Dangerous Damsels Deconstructing the Duke's Dynasty

“Good night, lady Antorha.” Reana gives a slight nod to the older woman before turning her attention to the Duke. She decides now would be a bad time to pry. “Is there anything I can do for you, my lord, or should I just leave you be?” She asks courteously.

 

The duke sighs wearily. "No, I think I should be alone. Thank you, lady Taerin."

 

(This is your last chance to do something at the ball. The night is coming to an end.)

 

“In that case I will not take any more of your time. Good night, Duke Norwin.” Reana bows slightly to the Duke and then leaves him alone. Tonight was certainly different from any similar occasion I can remember...

It is clear the night is coming to an end, so she goes looking for her servants, both to make sure that Anna, Lea and Isabel are alright and to find out what – if anything – they have overheard tonight.

 

The Jharl peals off from the party with the Duke to intercept the man who is listening in...

"Excuse me Milord, may I have a WORD with you?" He asks, voice perfectly calm. (Just like a coiled serpent camping beside a footpath...)

 

The night continues without further incident, and soon the party ends, with all the guests returning to their quarters or homes, and sleeping off the night's revelry.

On the morning of the next day, each one of you finds a letter has been delivered to you in the night, every one of them graced with the ducal seal.

 

To Reana's disappointment Anna, Lea and Isabel have not heard anything she doesn't already know. Note to self: Next time give them more accurate instructions. Having no desire to do anything more tonight the young noblewoman goes back to her quarters and retires for the night.

Reana wakes up early next morning, only to discover that a letter has been delivered for her. Not feeling hungry just yet she decides to skip breakfast for the moment and instead go find out what this is about. Maybe I will get some answers... probably not. She puts on a dress and goes looking for the Duke.

 

After long night, Lady Rousseau gathered her escort - four bannerwomen, Eusebia and Thea – and makes her way to the duke.

 

Havelock gets into his carraige and sets off towards his ducal appointment. It will be a long ride, so he opens up one of his spies' reports.

 

Allia rolls of the bed. Stretching her naked form she notices the letter. After reading it's content she puts it aside for the moment. Half an hour of preperation ensue. A light workout to be ready for the day, a quick bath, getting dressed. She chooses to wear a dress with a short skirt today that doesn't get in her way if things went physical.

'Now would be my earliest convenience.' she thinks, yawns and grabs the letter in case she needs it. Two weapons hanging from her hips, rapier and dagger, she leaves the room to find the duke.

 

(Sorry for the delay.)
You find the duke in the main hall, accompanied by several nobles (You, the players), Sir Vincent, an old man in robes sitting to in a chair, And, to your surprise, an elf.
She is, like all elves, slight of build, but she is tall and possesses a noble bearing. She has auburn hair, worn freely, and her skin is the color of caramel. She wears a scandalously revealing red dress, held on without straps, baring her neck, shoulders, and arms for all to see. It also has long slits along the skirt, revealing her long, perfect legs to her mid thigh. She wears golden bangles about her wrists, and her neck bears a heavy-looking circular golden amulet carved with tiny writing.
Her face is held with the haughty poise so common of elves, and her eyes are, rather disconcertingly, as gold as her jewelry.

The old man in the chair has piercing blue eyes, but you cannot easily discern more about his face, as most of it is hidden behind his long, grey hair and similarly long and grey beard. He has a curved, hawkish nose, and the demeanor of a man of great import. His robes are wildly inappropriate for an audience with the duke. They are a simple grey and brown affair, and though they are clean, they could not be any more worn without disintegrating entirely.

The duke looks to you as you enter. "Ah, you have arrived, good. " He turns to the elven woman. "My lady, do you find them worthy?" he asks, gesturing to you. The elf nods, and the duke continues, looking back to you. "Please introduce yourselves."

 

Allia narrows her eyes. She is not particularly fond of elves. "Marchioness Allia Antorha of Antorhall." she states her name and province as she represses the urge to lay her hand on her weapon.

 

An elf? Hopefully this one's not a complete bitch like the last one I met... “I am Reana Taerin, second daughter of Lord Taerin. Nice to meet you.” Reana introduces herself, then uses the chance to examine the people in the room in detail.

 

An elf... and that words. Irène tsked. It looks like the duke is up to something... no matter, my business here is almost done.

“Lady Irène Rousseau, the current head of Rousseau family.” she proclaimed haughtily.

 

The elf is of little importance. The (wizard? druid?) is the one really of note. He warrants a better look. "Lord Havelock, of Havelock Hall... m'lord."

 

The Jharl arches one eyebrow, but says nothing beyond his name. "Jharl James R.R. Ghembretton." He states, his eyes flash with a trace of some inner darkness.

 

"A pleasure to meet you all." The elf speaks. "I am Lady Eona. I represent the interests of the Elidrin Ascendancy. If you have any questions, ask them now, for once we begin time will be a luxury we cannot afford."

 

Allia shakes her head. "I don't care. Just get on with it."

 

The old man chuckles quietly to himself.
"I like this one!"

 

Reana decides that now is as good a time as any to get some answers. "What, exactly, happened last night during the party?"