Post by Carlotta on Dec 19, 2007 16:05:05 GMT -5
:: The wind was howling mad last eve as a touchy storm rolled through over the land. Now and then it would touch down allowing sparkling cold drops to chill the earth. It had made for a miserable night for sleeping if you were one caught up inside the resting place of a stable or outer porch. Garan the entertainer had been spending a great deal of his time in a place called the Kings Alehouse. No king, but a lot of interesting characters. Most spoke with crisp short phrasing there, unlike the Kings Hunt, where one might think to speak, but would have to wait a much longer time to do so. Yesssss.. this entertainer was quick witted, smart alec'd and a turn coat. Literally speaking, as he'd have to turn his coat inside out to keep it from fading. He'd heard the castle forum had been open to the public and never in all his born days had he seen the inside of a true castle. Clutching his satchel and gear his flat soled boots climbed sand stone steps which led him to the towering entry doors. An opportunity to knock to see if anyone was home- but alas, there stood sentries amid the raised platform there...... Clearing his throat he sounded well mannered, :: " Is there a doctor in the castle? " :: Castle replacing the word 'house', he was quite serious, and stood there waiting for one guard to answer. ::
Graf Otto Kessler hated England with a passion. He had experienced nothing but sheer misery since he had arrived last week. Desperately he pushed himself into the folds of that black cloak which wrapped around him like a second skin the Count pushed his way out of the carriage door. Not bothering in waiting for the driver to open it for him. Tossing him a few shillings before he stalked towards the guarded gates. The sentries by now knew him, and his station. Otto wasn't challenged but instead allowed inside. Everyone within court knew that Count Otto Kessler was the voice of the Holy Roman Emperor Charles V in England. Thus, the man was granted a measure of respect. But the people he had met so far had hardly been cordial. He had been met with veiled threats and hostility ever since he had presented himself to King Henry. Pushing such thoughts aside the big man headed towards the Hall. Desperate to get out of this cold, dreary, and depressing weather.
"You are going to make me trip." The words rolled from her tongue, heavy with the dead seas and arcane prophecy no hierophant could decipher. The boy at her side held onto her arm and guided her through the sea of bodies, crooking his right arm out to carefully cut a line for the pair. "You know, Michael," she began, inclining her head in a way that elongated the elegant length of her neck. "You could be leading me to the wolves and I would never even know!" The observation was quiet and laced with hushed laughter. Without sight, there was an overwhelming amount of trust put in other people; for better or worse, it became a necessity. Constance was flawless in pale blue and white; beauty came from poor and wealthy alike. When Michael happened to catch sight of a lovely lady of the court, his eye line dropped to watch the sway of her hips and he lost sight of where they were walking ... into a rupture of ground. Both went down in a flurry of fabric and gasps; tangled limbs flailed and eventually Constance stumbled to her feet and straightened herself out. "...I knew that was going to happen." Groaned as she patted around for something (or someone) stable to hold onto
Otto couldn't help but notice the..collision. Resulting in a tangling of limbs and body parts. He suppressed a sblack person of laughter. That face reverting to it's otherwise blank state. One gloved hand reaching out to capture the woman's flailing arms and pull her upright. The Count allowed one eye to rove up and down her body. She was quite the catch in a sense. A stunning woman. The other eye was looking for the boy who was still crumpled like a rag doll on the floor. Bending down slightly he wrenched the boy to his feet. '' Well, this is an interesting way to meet. '' A smile exposed those white ivory teeth. One gift that Otto had was he was a master of languages. His English hardly had an accent to it at all.
Eolus had been spending a great deal of time in court. He had found, to his mild surprise, that the atmosphere suited him much as water suited a duck. Why he had expected the nobility to be less susceptible to manipulation than the commoners, he could no longer fathom. People were people. The Lord Thomas Kent had more than proved this yesterday, as far as Eolus was concerned. Such appetites would have ill become a pig. And then there was the King, of course, with eyes for only one woman who was not his wife. It was all like the plays, like the histories, like everything that was comfortable and familiar to him. He chuckled to himself as he strolled up to the castle, pausing just behind the man who was inquiring if there was a doctor. When he heard that, he stepped back another stride. He had no inclination to be around a sick man.
A strong hand wrapped around her slender arm and straightened her up with little effort it seemed. "Oh, thank you. It seems my guide is easily distracted." While she looked toward him, it wasn't directly at him -- it was off and dreamy. The spill of dark hair was brushed from her face and her smile flared wide. "Interesting, yes," she laughed and brushed her hands down the swell of her hips, "you could say that." Michael brushed flecks of the dirt from her dress and muttered apologies. The sun splintered at her back and crawled up her spine like the touch of a lover, it brought a faint spread of red to her cheeks. "You ... aren't from around here are you?" Her hearing was a bit more acute than most, she noticed the subtleties that distinguished one person from the other. "Your English is impeccable, though." A siren song weave of her words, that seemed to suit the ethereal beauty. "I am Constance, this --" She leaned toward the man and dropped her voice to a whisper, "Michael -- sweet boy, but very clumsy."
:: Playing the guard> He'd look at the entertainer and his buffoon like mixture of attire. Gar of course was quite use to being stared at. It didn't bother him in the least. However, it was cold, his fingers closed in on the edge of matted fur tightening up his cloak. He'd watch as the count just walked right in, the warmer air snaked out allowing him to be tempted by its draw. Gar would look to the guard, :: " He didn’t get stopped, I was.... already stopped that front gates of the city. How many times does this happen?" :: Dark brooding eyes shimmered with the look of a fool, while inwardly the wolf of the Entertainers cast licked his chops. When the guard raised his arm unexpectedly Garan's right hand flew upward grasping the man by the wrist with lightening speed. Pressuring it with unsettling strength, ..not un-natural. It was a predictable response on his part, potent proof beneath his palm, which lessoned and released. :: " Pardon me, I thought you were about to be....... stung, by a wayward bee. " :: Jus then both sentries and Gar alike turned to find the peddling of our Lady Hell and a youth whom seemed curled together. If there was a sting to be had it might have been the boys expression. As the woman also ..proceeded on in, then visibly tripped his own imagination turned gears. For had he the opportunity to have rescued the woman, he'd probably have carried her over the threshold.......now that, would have been a first. The gloved hand of the guard finally flagged him in. He'd nod. Silence spun over him as he entered the castle's proper. ::
So it would seem. '' Kessler said that smirk widening. '' No doubt he was busy studying the fine..intricacies of court. '' A glance was thrown towards the woman who had gained Michael's affections. '' A noteworthy endeavor. You have a keen sense of hearing my lady. I am Otto Kessler. I hail from Vienna. It's a pleasure to make both your acquaintances. I'm here on Imperial business. Emperor Charles has sent me to court as a...'' He chose his next '' representative to King Henry and to show his support for his Aunt Queen Katherine. '' It was Otto's job simply to put an end to this foolish talks of annulment. But, he knew he faced considerable opposition especially at court.
The library had gained the attention of other Barristers and clergy, along with a few other's she knew not their position, who sought the knowledge from the many leather bounds upon shelves. This made it not safe to continue her present studies. Instead, books were collected and stacked, she'd then use a black silk material to wrap around them; a binding of leather to hold all in place. During the light of day, this would keep those volumes from open view and would be easily accepted in this state an easy way of transporting so many at once. Forest green intermixed with whites and gold were the colors worn this day. Ebon lengths allowed their freedom to cascade over left shoulder. Upon completion of the fastening, spectacles plucked from the bridge of nose to be placed in their velvet case and then a pocket. Hefting the weight of her treasures, she'd exit the library and enter the main hall. A stroll of sorts to be that visualized in the way she moved, unhurried and seemingly enjoying a late afternoon break. Though her mind wasn't at it's own leisure of rest, information toiled within in it, scenarios played out. As well as that mental search for a confidant in which she could collaborate with. She was in uncharted territory with this, impactual would be the end results for both sides involved. No matter how she tried to figure for an nonviolent outcome, it evaded her completely, blood shed was always it's end.
Eolus watched the scene play out between the man and the sentries, eyebrows raising gently. The devil there had been a bee in winter. However, his attention was also pulled the undignified spill of the lady, and her subsequent rough rescue by the Count. When he looked back, the man who might have by rights lost a hand to the guards was gone. Well, sensible fellow. For his own part, he submitted with good grace to losing his weapons, and proceeded into the thick of court. His gaze trailed idly, assessingly, over the crowd, though he wore a pleasant smile, and made the occasional bow and deep respectful nod here and there.
:: Gar's face was bathed in half light from an arching window, an odd golden wash of color spread over his features. It muted the harshness, the mockery most saw there, a small scar etched his jaw, pale against dark beard stubble. His eyes crept upward towards the ceilings, the expanse between walls, mentally counting rafters before his eyes fell downward along the interior walls. It was quite expansive over all. Even the width of the corridor which swept over into the main hall created an invisible barrier so that one couldn’t really tell where it started and stopped. His right hand swayed forward pushing his gear and an oversized sack in against his hip. He'd find himself coming up behind the trio, the count, the day tripper, and lad. :: " Good day to you all. " :: Brief glances given to each, :: " I am not one for intruding on others conversations.. Glad to see you recovered lady... I ah um, and seeking a healer, a physician? There is a.. friend of mine back at the King's Alehouse who is in need of one. " :: Friend indeed? He'd not even gotten her name yet, but for the past 18 hours he'd spent enough time with the young woman to find some reason for helping her. While the count had spent his time ogling the lovely creature whom thumbed down at the boy with disquieted blame for her spill, Gar winked at the boy. Scooping upward his free hand he'd spray his fingers before the boys face in some magical rhythm, snap his fingers and produce a wrapped piece of candy. :: " Ash a gift from a merchant candy vendor boy. " :: Offering it to him just before looking back to the representative and otherwise soft spoken woman whom he believed to be the boys mother. ::
"Oh! I did not realize who you were, you must think I am terribly ill-mannered." The blush burned a touch deeper this time around and she laughed nervously. "I hope I am not keeping you from important business. It seems you are of great significance to both --" Her sentence was clipped by the intrusion of another person. "I am not entirely--" Before she could finish Michael let out a shriek and latched onto her legs, causing her to wobble slightly and grip onto the Count with an apologetic smile. "Michael, what are you doing? What is wrong?" "He is a witch!" This didn't seem to warrant a verbal response from Constance, but she did gently pat his head. She still held onto Otto, standing shamelessly close to the man she had met only a few minutes before. "Perhaps, you know of a doctor?" This to Otto with a flip of brows, her eyes focusing in his general direction
Peasants. Otto had a deep personal disdain for peasants. How this upstart managed to get past the sentries at the gate was a wonder in itself. That cold calculating gaze settled on the man. One hand unconsciously moving towards the empty scabbard where his sword had been. Alas, it had been confiscated by the guards for no one was permitted at court with weapons. Otto stepped in front of the woman and her child. '' I know of a man. I can send you my personal physician. '' Anything to get the man out of the courtyard. The child was causing a miniature scene. Since all eyes seemed to be focused on the man who had offered the child candy. There was still a deep rooted belief in the supernatural in Europe. England was no exception. '' Tell me which residence to send him too and he will be there within the hour. But, I would suggest you leave quickly. The guards are coming. '' He gave a nod towards several visible armored shapes stalking towards the small group. Otto judged the distance between the two groups and calculated that the man had about two minutes to spout off the location and get the hell out of there before someone tossed the ruffian into the dungeons.
Soon she'd enter through the doors of the court, as soon as the thresh-hold had been crossed a pleasant, polite smile was in place. Nods offered to those in passing, Eolus would gain a nod and smile as well. Hefting her burden, she made way to where other young Barristers grouped together. Upon her approach, the men silenced to glance in her direction. Smirks touched their lips, a few elbows to nudge another. This was noticed, but it daunted her not, as with lifted chin she made way to one of the open chairs to place her bundles upon it's seat. "Such dedication she puts forth. Though I'm sure she'd get a lot further if she wore lower cut gowns." Hearing that uttered behind her, that back went straight and slowly she stood to turn and look at the group who stood snickering before her. No glare, though malice did register within chestnut hues. The smile remained upon her lips, but it held no humor or warmth. "Perhaps so, but that would be cheating now wouldn't it? I'd rather top all of you with my knowledge and skill. Something I have heard all of you lack." Snickering ended as they now turned to face her. "Watch your mouth, wench." Heard from the one closest to her, Thomas. To him attention would turn, smile to grow slightly. "Or you'll what? You forget your place my good Lord. I think you should reconsider your own warning and do so yourself..." Leaning a bit closer as her voice lowered. "...Wench!" At this eyes narrowed. Of course she'd use her Father's position when it suited her well. Manipulation, bargaining, the gift of words, that's what made a good Barrister, and she had learned the tools of her trade well. "Now while you lads stand and drool over things you can only dream of having, I'm going to find some food!" Satisfaction marred youthful features, as she turned upon heel with a flourish of skirts, and made way to the nearest buffet table.
:: Noting the boys reaction he'd slip in a comment to the lad, :: " Some hug tree's like that. "
Eolus, naturally, pivoted slightly in order to watch the confrontation between the Barrister and the group of young men. All of them had the attitude of dogs with hackles raised, as far as he could tell, and for some reason, he rarely grew tired of verbal sparring; there was always a chance that someone would emerge as spectacularly witty. He made a little so-so wave of fingers at his side when the conversation concluded: tolerably good performance, might have been better. Nonetheless, he eel through the crowd and caught up to the Barrister about when she caught up to the buffet tables. "A fine thing you've gone to the food, Miss Carlotta. To take your knife of a tongue to those lads was nearly cruel." Of course, Eolus sounded more amused by the 'cruelty' than put off.
:: He'd crouch down closer to the boys level, offering a calm presence. :: " No boy, I'm no witch. Witches are girls, Warlocks are like... boy witches." :: Speaking with a level of understanding for the boy. :: " I promise you I am neither. But I am the greatest swordsman on the earth and will protect you from any such fierce evil. In fact this candy was made especially for me out of gratitude from a woman who's family I helped save from a dreadful dragon, whom I have captured.. " :: Patting his sack once. :: " Would you like to see him? My name is Garan the Great, around me, nothing is ever boring. " :: Wouldn't you know the count would step in front of him right at that exact moment. A wry smirk grooved upward his bottom lip. Rising to his full height he'd be looking slightly down upon the fanciful courtier. The heavy hobnobbed boots of the courtyard guards would turn his gaze in their direction before returning to meet with Otto's. :: " I .. appreciate sir you offer of aid. The woman is like an Angel, save her wings are very worn out and she has oddly itchy fingers. " :: Trying not to grin at the sick woman's claimed profession. Often she can be found warming next to the fire place. " :: The offer of a physician he'd not sacrifice for her sake as it was quite apparent the count held prejudice towards him. Nobles were like that, proud peathingys, skinny legged and pickle noses. So he'd heard... Half turning as the guardsmen made their arrival his hands would spring upward offering the sign of surrender, and proving he was the one un-armed , at least with a weapon. ::
Graf Otto Kessler hated England with a passion. He had experienced nothing but sheer misery since he had arrived last week. Desperately he pushed himself into the folds of that black cloak which wrapped around him like a second skin the Count pushed his way out of the carriage door. Not bothering in waiting for the driver to open it for him. Tossing him a few shillings before he stalked towards the guarded gates. The sentries by now knew him, and his station. Otto wasn't challenged but instead allowed inside. Everyone within court knew that Count Otto Kessler was the voice of the Holy Roman Emperor Charles V in England. Thus, the man was granted a measure of respect. But the people he had met so far had hardly been cordial. He had been met with veiled threats and hostility ever since he had presented himself to King Henry. Pushing such thoughts aside the big man headed towards the Hall. Desperate to get out of this cold, dreary, and depressing weather.
"You are going to make me trip." The words rolled from her tongue, heavy with the dead seas and arcane prophecy no hierophant could decipher. The boy at her side held onto her arm and guided her through the sea of bodies, crooking his right arm out to carefully cut a line for the pair. "You know, Michael," she began, inclining her head in a way that elongated the elegant length of her neck. "You could be leading me to the wolves and I would never even know!" The observation was quiet and laced with hushed laughter. Without sight, there was an overwhelming amount of trust put in other people; for better or worse, it became a necessity. Constance was flawless in pale blue and white; beauty came from poor and wealthy alike. When Michael happened to catch sight of a lovely lady of the court, his eye line dropped to watch the sway of her hips and he lost sight of where they were walking ... into a rupture of ground. Both went down in a flurry of fabric and gasps; tangled limbs flailed and eventually Constance stumbled to her feet and straightened herself out. "...I knew that was going to happen." Groaned as she patted around for something (or someone) stable to hold onto
Otto couldn't help but notice the..collision. Resulting in a tangling of limbs and body parts. He suppressed a sblack person of laughter. That face reverting to it's otherwise blank state. One gloved hand reaching out to capture the woman's flailing arms and pull her upright. The Count allowed one eye to rove up and down her body. She was quite the catch in a sense. A stunning woman. The other eye was looking for the boy who was still crumpled like a rag doll on the floor. Bending down slightly he wrenched the boy to his feet. '' Well, this is an interesting way to meet. '' A smile exposed those white ivory teeth. One gift that Otto had was he was a master of languages. His English hardly had an accent to it at all.
Eolus had been spending a great deal of time in court. He had found, to his mild surprise, that the atmosphere suited him much as water suited a duck. Why he had expected the nobility to be less susceptible to manipulation than the commoners, he could no longer fathom. People were people. The Lord Thomas Kent had more than proved this yesterday, as far as Eolus was concerned. Such appetites would have ill become a pig. And then there was the King, of course, with eyes for only one woman who was not his wife. It was all like the plays, like the histories, like everything that was comfortable and familiar to him. He chuckled to himself as he strolled up to the castle, pausing just behind the man who was inquiring if there was a doctor. When he heard that, he stepped back another stride. He had no inclination to be around a sick man.
A strong hand wrapped around her slender arm and straightened her up with little effort it seemed. "Oh, thank you. It seems my guide is easily distracted." While she looked toward him, it wasn't directly at him -- it was off and dreamy. The spill of dark hair was brushed from her face and her smile flared wide. "Interesting, yes," she laughed and brushed her hands down the swell of her hips, "you could say that." Michael brushed flecks of the dirt from her dress and muttered apologies. The sun splintered at her back and crawled up her spine like the touch of a lover, it brought a faint spread of red to her cheeks. "You ... aren't from around here are you?" Her hearing was a bit more acute than most, she noticed the subtleties that distinguished one person from the other. "Your English is impeccable, though." A siren song weave of her words, that seemed to suit the ethereal beauty. "I am Constance, this --" She leaned toward the man and dropped her voice to a whisper, "Michael -- sweet boy, but very clumsy."
:: Playing the guard> He'd look at the entertainer and his buffoon like mixture of attire. Gar of course was quite use to being stared at. It didn't bother him in the least. However, it was cold, his fingers closed in on the edge of matted fur tightening up his cloak. He'd watch as the count just walked right in, the warmer air snaked out allowing him to be tempted by its draw. Gar would look to the guard, :: " He didn’t get stopped, I was.... already stopped that front gates of the city. How many times does this happen?" :: Dark brooding eyes shimmered with the look of a fool, while inwardly the wolf of the Entertainers cast licked his chops. When the guard raised his arm unexpectedly Garan's right hand flew upward grasping the man by the wrist with lightening speed. Pressuring it with unsettling strength, ..not un-natural. It was a predictable response on his part, potent proof beneath his palm, which lessoned and released. :: " Pardon me, I thought you were about to be....... stung, by a wayward bee. " :: Jus then both sentries and Gar alike turned to find the peddling of our Lady Hell and a youth whom seemed curled together. If there was a sting to be had it might have been the boys expression. As the woman also ..proceeded on in, then visibly tripped his own imagination turned gears. For had he the opportunity to have rescued the woman, he'd probably have carried her over the threshold.......now that, would have been a first. The gloved hand of the guard finally flagged him in. He'd nod. Silence spun over him as he entered the castle's proper. ::
So it would seem. '' Kessler said that smirk widening. '' No doubt he was busy studying the fine..intricacies of court. '' A glance was thrown towards the woman who had gained Michael's affections. '' A noteworthy endeavor. You have a keen sense of hearing my lady. I am Otto Kessler. I hail from Vienna. It's a pleasure to make both your acquaintances. I'm here on Imperial business. Emperor Charles has sent me to court as a...'' He chose his next '' representative to King Henry and to show his support for his Aunt Queen Katherine. '' It was Otto's job simply to put an end to this foolish talks of annulment. But, he knew he faced considerable opposition especially at court.
The library had gained the attention of other Barristers and clergy, along with a few other's she knew not their position, who sought the knowledge from the many leather bounds upon shelves. This made it not safe to continue her present studies. Instead, books were collected and stacked, she'd then use a black silk material to wrap around them; a binding of leather to hold all in place. During the light of day, this would keep those volumes from open view and would be easily accepted in this state an easy way of transporting so many at once. Forest green intermixed with whites and gold were the colors worn this day. Ebon lengths allowed their freedom to cascade over left shoulder. Upon completion of the fastening, spectacles plucked from the bridge of nose to be placed in their velvet case and then a pocket. Hefting the weight of her treasures, she'd exit the library and enter the main hall. A stroll of sorts to be that visualized in the way she moved, unhurried and seemingly enjoying a late afternoon break. Though her mind wasn't at it's own leisure of rest, information toiled within in it, scenarios played out. As well as that mental search for a confidant in which she could collaborate with. She was in uncharted territory with this, impactual would be the end results for both sides involved. No matter how she tried to figure for an nonviolent outcome, it evaded her completely, blood shed was always it's end.
Eolus watched the scene play out between the man and the sentries, eyebrows raising gently. The devil there had been a bee in winter. However, his attention was also pulled the undignified spill of the lady, and her subsequent rough rescue by the Count. When he looked back, the man who might have by rights lost a hand to the guards was gone. Well, sensible fellow. For his own part, he submitted with good grace to losing his weapons, and proceeded into the thick of court. His gaze trailed idly, assessingly, over the crowd, though he wore a pleasant smile, and made the occasional bow and deep respectful nod here and there.
:: Gar's face was bathed in half light from an arching window, an odd golden wash of color spread over his features. It muted the harshness, the mockery most saw there, a small scar etched his jaw, pale against dark beard stubble. His eyes crept upward towards the ceilings, the expanse between walls, mentally counting rafters before his eyes fell downward along the interior walls. It was quite expansive over all. Even the width of the corridor which swept over into the main hall created an invisible barrier so that one couldn’t really tell where it started and stopped. His right hand swayed forward pushing his gear and an oversized sack in against his hip. He'd find himself coming up behind the trio, the count, the day tripper, and lad. :: " Good day to you all. " :: Brief glances given to each, :: " I am not one for intruding on others conversations.. Glad to see you recovered lady... I ah um, and seeking a healer, a physician? There is a.. friend of mine back at the King's Alehouse who is in need of one. " :: Friend indeed? He'd not even gotten her name yet, but for the past 18 hours he'd spent enough time with the young woman to find some reason for helping her. While the count had spent his time ogling the lovely creature whom thumbed down at the boy with disquieted blame for her spill, Gar winked at the boy. Scooping upward his free hand he'd spray his fingers before the boys face in some magical rhythm, snap his fingers and produce a wrapped piece of candy. :: " Ash a gift from a merchant candy vendor boy. " :: Offering it to him just before looking back to the representative and otherwise soft spoken woman whom he believed to be the boys mother. ::
"Oh! I did not realize who you were, you must think I am terribly ill-mannered." The blush burned a touch deeper this time around and she laughed nervously. "I hope I am not keeping you from important business. It seems you are of great significance to both --" Her sentence was clipped by the intrusion of another person. "I am not entirely--" Before she could finish Michael let out a shriek and latched onto her legs, causing her to wobble slightly and grip onto the Count with an apologetic smile. "Michael, what are you doing? What is wrong?" "He is a witch!" This didn't seem to warrant a verbal response from Constance, but she did gently pat his head. She still held onto Otto, standing shamelessly close to the man she had met only a few minutes before. "Perhaps, you know of a doctor?" This to Otto with a flip of brows, her eyes focusing in his general direction
Peasants. Otto had a deep personal disdain for peasants. How this upstart managed to get past the sentries at the gate was a wonder in itself. That cold calculating gaze settled on the man. One hand unconsciously moving towards the empty scabbard where his sword had been. Alas, it had been confiscated by the guards for no one was permitted at court with weapons. Otto stepped in front of the woman and her child. '' I know of a man. I can send you my personal physician. '' Anything to get the man out of the courtyard. The child was causing a miniature scene. Since all eyes seemed to be focused on the man who had offered the child candy. There was still a deep rooted belief in the supernatural in Europe. England was no exception. '' Tell me which residence to send him too and he will be there within the hour. But, I would suggest you leave quickly. The guards are coming. '' He gave a nod towards several visible armored shapes stalking towards the small group. Otto judged the distance between the two groups and calculated that the man had about two minutes to spout off the location and get the hell out of there before someone tossed the ruffian into the dungeons.
Soon she'd enter through the doors of the court, as soon as the thresh-hold had been crossed a pleasant, polite smile was in place. Nods offered to those in passing, Eolus would gain a nod and smile as well. Hefting her burden, she made way to where other young Barristers grouped together. Upon her approach, the men silenced to glance in her direction. Smirks touched their lips, a few elbows to nudge another. This was noticed, but it daunted her not, as with lifted chin she made way to one of the open chairs to place her bundles upon it's seat. "Such dedication she puts forth. Though I'm sure she'd get a lot further if she wore lower cut gowns." Hearing that uttered behind her, that back went straight and slowly she stood to turn and look at the group who stood snickering before her. No glare, though malice did register within chestnut hues. The smile remained upon her lips, but it held no humor or warmth. "Perhaps so, but that would be cheating now wouldn't it? I'd rather top all of you with my knowledge and skill. Something I have heard all of you lack." Snickering ended as they now turned to face her. "Watch your mouth, wench." Heard from the one closest to her, Thomas. To him attention would turn, smile to grow slightly. "Or you'll what? You forget your place my good Lord. I think you should reconsider your own warning and do so yourself..." Leaning a bit closer as her voice lowered. "...Wench!" At this eyes narrowed. Of course she'd use her Father's position when it suited her well. Manipulation, bargaining, the gift of words, that's what made a good Barrister, and she had learned the tools of her trade well. "Now while you lads stand and drool over things you can only dream of having, I'm going to find some food!" Satisfaction marred youthful features, as she turned upon heel with a flourish of skirts, and made way to the nearest buffet table.
:: Noting the boys reaction he'd slip in a comment to the lad, :: " Some hug tree's like that. "
Eolus, naturally, pivoted slightly in order to watch the confrontation between the Barrister and the group of young men. All of them had the attitude of dogs with hackles raised, as far as he could tell, and for some reason, he rarely grew tired of verbal sparring; there was always a chance that someone would emerge as spectacularly witty. He made a little so-so wave of fingers at his side when the conversation concluded: tolerably good performance, might have been better. Nonetheless, he eel through the crowd and caught up to the Barrister about when she caught up to the buffet tables. "A fine thing you've gone to the food, Miss Carlotta. To take your knife of a tongue to those lads was nearly cruel." Of course, Eolus sounded more amused by the 'cruelty' than put off.
:: He'd crouch down closer to the boys level, offering a calm presence. :: " No boy, I'm no witch. Witches are girls, Warlocks are like... boy witches." :: Speaking with a level of understanding for the boy. :: " I promise you I am neither. But I am the greatest swordsman on the earth and will protect you from any such fierce evil. In fact this candy was made especially for me out of gratitude from a woman who's family I helped save from a dreadful dragon, whom I have captured.. " :: Patting his sack once. :: " Would you like to see him? My name is Garan the Great, around me, nothing is ever boring. " :: Wouldn't you know the count would step in front of him right at that exact moment. A wry smirk grooved upward his bottom lip. Rising to his full height he'd be looking slightly down upon the fanciful courtier. The heavy hobnobbed boots of the courtyard guards would turn his gaze in their direction before returning to meet with Otto's. :: " I .. appreciate sir you offer of aid. The woman is like an Angel, save her wings are very worn out and she has oddly itchy fingers. " :: Trying not to grin at the sick woman's claimed profession. Often she can be found warming next to the fire place. " :: The offer of a physician he'd not sacrifice for her sake as it was quite apparent the count held prejudice towards him. Nobles were like that, proud peathingys, skinny legged and pickle noses. So he'd heard... Half turning as the guardsmen made their arrival his hands would spring upward offering the sign of surrender, and proving he was the one un-armed , at least with a weapon. ::
