07.29.3013: Saimhann House Party
Summary: The Saimhann Family has invited nobles from the various houses to attend a party at the Drakholt in Spikka.
Date: 29 July 2013
Related: None
Jarek Victor Devon Agnes Chiron Una Tiriel Ronan Erik Johana Elodie Tristan Anabethe Hadrian 

Drakholt Mail Hall
(ooc note: Desc may vary once room is built for the grid)
The Grand Hall of the Drakholt is the Saimhann family's first impression aside from the look of the foretress from the outside. Inside, the hexagon theme continues. The large stone pillars that rise neatly along the edges of the hall are square cut, but have a rotating hexagon pattern set into them. The hexagons getting smaller the further in it goes, with a max of six steps in. Draped between these pillars are large tapestries depicting the history of the Saimhann household starting with the Second System War that lead to the ennobling of the family and on through to present day grand accomplishments. There is space near the end that allows for new tapestries to be added even. Nearer to the ground are holoportraits of various house members standing next to the body of a drake looking rather triumphant. The floor, walls, and most of the decorations are practical; Made from rock or metal to reduce wear on them and increase the life expectancy. Since anything brought in from a hunt is used, there aren't trophies of kills or weapons or things. The hall is instead decorated with art about the namesake of the mountains the Drakholt is in. Sculptures, pictures, and banners are set about six altar like tables one on each wall around the base of a pillar. Each table seems dedicated to a different god, though they seem more decorative than ceremonial, it is obvious they are well taken care of. The colors of the house are rampant through and through this hexagon shaped hall.

Tonight the hall has been decorated for a party, with drake headed streamers flying from one pillar to the next crisscrossing here and there. A large scuplture of one of the broodmothers is set nicely in the middle, holoprojectors make it breath fire at random intervals. There are plenty of chairs, several couches, a few tables with refreshments of various kinds on them. An mobile bar, with a notice that states no hard liquors sorry on it. To one wall there is a section that is set up like a dance floor with a music booth at the edge.

29 July 3013

The night is dark, stormy and thundering. The Saimhann invites went out a long while ago and the RSVPs they got were encouraging to say the least. Jarek stands in the Grand Hall of the Drakholt waiting for the arrival of his soon to be guests. He is dressed very formally with a long coat and ceremonial sword belted about the outside of it.

As the guests arrive, they will have been shuttled from the Waygate proper to the fortress to prevent damage to their clothing and bags, on account of the storm. However, funny enough, when the room is filled up with the attendees the storm dissipates. Jarek begins to greet people as the doors close after the last arrival.

You ask a Khourni to dress formally and he'll still bring his weapon, even when it's a heavy axe. He will, however, leave it with an usher at the door. And of course, his attire includes drakeskin, a sash over a black jacket in Victor's case. He's not much of one for formal events, so it's only just before the entrance itself that he remembers to actually offer out his arm to the almost-stranger who is to be his wife. Shrugging a little helplessly, the big man rumbles, "Sorry," in his low, gravelly voice. This is his mother's House, and so he knows several of the hosts, offering handshakes, shoulder-smacks, and introductions to Devon. When he reaches Jarek, the Khourni moves to cuff the Young Lord's shoulder with his right hand, then gestures to the relatively-short woman on his left arm, "Jay, this is Devon Grantham nee Volen. Devon, Young Lord Sir Jarek Saimhann. The boss-man decided we were going to get hitched."

Lady Sir Agnes Peake is dressed modestly, but surprisingly femininely tonight. She is wear a tailored dress the color of freshly churned butter with long sleeves and a tiny keyhole closure in the round neckline. Gold bracelets cover her wrists, and the dress skims the floor where gold sandals can be seen. Her hair has been tamed into a lovely wave, and she is wearing simple makeup. She enters beside her soon-to-be-squire, Chiron Quellton, who was also invited by Lord Jarek. She smiles warmly to the Young Lord, and presses a light kiss to his cheek in greeting. "Jarek. You look very dashing tonight. Thank you for the invitations." She looks at Victor in surprise and declares, "Congratulations!" because she's bad at reading social cues like that.

Elodie has been working some extra hours lately. Perhaps on a volunteer basis, so she told her family she would meet them at the Samhain fortress. When she leaves her usual fur-lined white cloak with the coat check, the crimson dress almost seems to burst forth in it's simple, elegant glory. Checking her ears to make sure the earrings are still in place, and smoothing hair, even though it's still pulled back with the braid wrapping the ponytail that swings freely, the young Iah takes a moment to remind herself that she is a lady, and being this dressed up is nothing new to her. Just… the color. And the cut. And the fact that her dress is actually meant to garner attention. One last nervous bite of her lip, and she advances into the main room to greet the host and search for her siblings.

Devon sweeps in alongside her Khourni husband-to-be. The hand on his arm might as well be a ghost based on the amount of pressure she places behind it. Her gaze lifts up around the hexagonal room, immediately sweeping toward the ceiling which is quite common for her. She refocuses into the here and now when Victor starts making introductions, and she offers soft smiles to each in turn. When she is escorted to the Young Lord, she bows her head respectfully. "Sir Jarek, the pleasure is mine of course. You must forgive my embarrassment, but I have never been to the Drake Mountains before now. They are dangerously lovely." Maybe the reason why Victor was saddled with Devon. She definitely has a sense of eloquence. She turns toward Sir Agnes at the congratulations, but she is lucky that Devon has mastered her expression by now, offering a serene smile in reply. "Thank you."

Una enters the party on Tiriel's arm, a pair of servants holding a large umbrella over the pair. She pauses just before they step up to greet Jarek, removing her white fur cloak to reveal the ice blue dress shot with silver that she wears beneath it. The cloak is handed to one of the servants, and then she turns to her wife to adjust the heavily embroidered silver tunic she forced the woman into before they came. She even made sure to arrange for a matching belt and scabbard for Tiriel's sword. "Now just don't fidget too much with it and you'll be fine." She murmurs, before sending the servants on their way and approaching Jarek. She can't help but fuss with her own hair a bit, but the servants did well on it, and it remains as it has all night, despite the weather. She nods to Jarek as the pair approaches, sending amiles to those she recognizes as she glances briefly about. "Sir Jarek. Thank you for the invitation. Its too long since my wife and I were able to attend such a grand party."

The soon to be Ibrahm is in his house colors today as well as the usual formal attire that he wears that lends to a more militaristic fashion. Erik had taken time to prepare himself for this formal gathering, something he is quite use to, being a Valen. Once dressed and ready, he took the Waygate to Obsidia to pick up his date for the night and betrothed. When she was ready, the pair departed for the Ways once more and arrived in one of the provided transport vehicles to keep them out of the rain. Entering the Great Hall, the Valen can be seen leading the Ibrahm heir, her hands around his arm in the proper fashion and immediately his eyes gaze about the area, to take in the decor and also those who are present.

To those that know him, it might be a bit of a surprise to see Tristan present at such an event. He's simply dressed in green colors at the moment, very simple in design compared to some of the others, yet still good enough to get by at such an event.. Looking a bit nervous about being in such a place at all, as he makes his way further into the room now. Glancing around every now and then to see if there's someone he knows there, how unlikely that would be.

For the last couple of weeks, Sir Roan Iah has spent every waking minute on patrols. Despite his fervor for bringing death to every last hostile that dares to stain the snow of Niveus, he, with some prodding, has come to the party. After all, it is important to be seen, to reaffirm friendships and make new ones. The invitation said that the event was a formal affair, so he is dressed to the nines. He is dressed in a long royal blue houpelande, which has a bit of a train behind it. Its sleeves hanging low in a deep dagged bell. Despite the fact that the young Iah knight looks perfectly sculpted in the outfit, every inch of yards upon yards of silken brocade in place, he looks a touch uncomfortable wearing so much. Entering behind his sister, Lady Una, he offers a respectful bow to Jarek, "Young Lord Sir Saimhann. Thank you for such a gracious invitation. " He grins over to his sister, "I am doubly appreciative that it has brought Lady Iah out." He does look at his sisters and wonder where the fairness is that they can show off skin and he cannot.

Another arriving with her betrothed is Young Lady Johana Ibrahm. Ana is wearing a shimmery black dress with thin straps, a slit in the side almost to her hip. Walking at Erik's side, indeed with her hand tucked into the bend of his arm, she wears a smile, the pair seem to be getting along fairly well. As does Erik, she takes a look around the area, noting the people, of course zeroing in on the other Khourni present. As they near Jarek, she gently nudges him. "We should greet the host.'

Jarek continues to greet people as they arrive. When Agnes gives him that small friendly kiss he works hard to keep the blush away, but returns the small kiss with a matching one of his own. He looks to Devon and Victor, "Well congratulations Vic, boss-man must have known you're up the challenge of marriage." he looks to Devon specifically, "You'd better challenge him harder than the hostiles do." he smiles to the Iah as they arrive, "Of course Ladies of House Iah, it is very nice to meet you. That was the purpose of this party, for the houses to gather and mingle and make friends." he turns to the rest of the arrivals now, allowing those he's spoken with to mingle and shuffle about the hall before he makes his speech of welcome.

A sense of eloquence that Victor quite clearly lacks, for when he looks over to Agnes at her congratulations, he frowns in confused recognition a moment, and then laughs, a low sound that rises from deep in his barrel chest, "Knight on a crutch…" he finds the name he's searching for, "Sir Agnes. Good to see you made it through the first wave." And then the congratulations come in, and he glances over to Devon, a smirk twisting his blunt features before he looks to the tall lady knight, "Thanks." He moves down the receiving line so that others can greet the Saimhann heir. Apparently not willing to damn his betrothed to faint praise — political match or not — Victor adds, "She was aSergeant in the Ash Legion. She kills Hosties good." And that's high praise from the hard-fighting knight. His steps begin to lead Devon, and perhaps Agnes as well, over to the bar so that he can get started on one of the other things he does hard, drinking.

At Johana's nudging suggestion, Erik inclines his head to his betrothed and his own gaze fixes on the Saimhann heir, seeing that others are also clustered around the man to offer their formal greetings. "Yes, let us. It is only proper, My Lady." With that, the Valen begins to lead his date in Jarek's direction, waiting for the line to thin until there is an opening where they aren't interrupting another's greetings. "Young Lord Saimhann," Erik starts with a respectful bow of his head, "Young Lady Ibrahm and I would like to thank you for the invitation to this event, and it looks like there is quite a splendid turn out tonight."

By the Six yes, Agnes needs a drink. She's made Jarek blush. She hustles after the Khourni and clears her throat. "May I introduce Sergeant Chiron Quellton, soon to be my squire. This is Sir Victor Khournas, and Sergeant Devon Grantham." She notes.

Lord Doctor Hadrian Orelle was dressed as to be expected a formal event. It was simple, in style, and at least since the revision: timeless. He seems unusually uncomfortable in the stiff mixture of doublet, jerkin and a pair of boots. He took stock, a hesitation, before he entered into a line towards Jarek to eventually offer a greeting- It did seem to be a lot of people. When he does come his turn he smiles, bowing slightly. "Thank you, for the kind invitation." Hadrian begins. "It really is a pleasure to be here." He offers then..

"I will do what I can, Sir," Devon says to Jarek. As they step away, there is something in Victor's words that gives her pause. She was a Sergeat in the Ash Legion. Past tense. It actually sends a frown across her lips as she starts to turn her thoughts inward at that simple sentence. Victor might not have meant it that way, he was being honest, but it still seems to give her a touch of withdraw. Thens he shakes her head a bit, clearing her head long enough to say to Victor, "Do they have anything strong?" She then looks back toward Agnes at her introduction, and she smiles serenely to Chiron. "A squire?" She asks politely. "If you squire with Sir Agnes Peake, then you must be a rare gift."

The Lady Sir of House Iah walks in with Una and Ronan behind. Tiriel's eyes flash about and even as Una adjusts her cloak she looks slightly indignant. "The case of Ice wine was sent as a gift, right?" She asks her wife and looks about at the table. She looks to the dance floor and rolls her eyes a bit, "Great. Dancing." She mumbles just loud enough for Una to hear or those that are close by. A shrug of her shoulders and she tugs at the collar of the cloak, "Thing is too damn right." Which it isn't… It's perfectly fitted.

Chiron enters the grand hall with Agnes. He is wearing a nice white-silk tunic with a black vest, and a rather dashing green cloak. He is silent and speaks only when spoken too. He looks very much out of place. He bows to Jarek as he is introduced, "My Lord." Then bows again when introduced to Victor and Devon. "My lords. It is a pleasure to meet you."

Once the initial greetings are finished, Una leads Tiriel away to make room for the next guests. She glances around with bright eyes, the gaiety of such a large party lifting her mood already. "Yes." She answers, once they have moved on, "The case was sent ahead. And you look /fine/. More than fine." The last bit is murmured as softly as Una is able, and quickly followed by a louder greeting for Devon and Chiron. "Lady Devon. Chiron. I'm so glad to see you both."

Staying at the fringes of this, Tristan is letting out a bit of a sigh as he looks between the other people present. A brief grin as he sees Chiron, before he looks back towards the doors again now. Keeping quiet, and trying to stay under the radar for now, it would seem.

Victor eyes Chiron a moment, then nods his greeting, pointing to Agnes, Chiron, and Devon in turn, "Beer? Beer? Mead?" Looking to the bartender without actually confirming, he orders, "Three beers and a mead." Even Victor recognizes Devon's withdrawl however, and he frowns, one hand rising up to run back over his bald pate and his lips tightening. But then Tiriel arrives, and Victor nods politely to the newcomers, holding out a hand, "Sir Victor Khournas."

"You look lovely, Lady Devon," Agnes says quietly to the young woman as Victor goes about trying to be sociable. "I gather this banns was a bit of a surprise to you both?" she asks softly, her eyes gentle. "The Six work in strange ways. I hope they guide you to happiness, both of you." She then takes her beer and gulps it, because her luck with the male of the species has been downright awful. Thank God for squires-to-be who can make sure she gets home ok.

Ronan leans a little closer to his sister and her wife. "Yeah, you are not the one that is over dressed here." He looks at Una, "Think I have time to go change into something a little less formal?" He glances around, his green eyes fixing on a couple forms in the crowd, and seeing how Chiron is dressed, "I so could have totally worn something more like that and not this monkey suit." He smiles and nods to a passing noble. "Well. I think I'm going to find something to drink. You too have fun."

As they arrive at Jarek's side, Johana offers him a warm smile. "Thank you for the invitation, Young Lord Saimhann, we are indeed honored." She does not want to linger too long and to take up his valuable time. As host, she does realize he will be terribly busy. With a smile to Jarek's own date, she greets her as well. "Sir Agnes Peake, a pleasure seeing you as well, and an honor to meet such a warrior." Giving her a quick wink, feeling a bit of a kinship with her.

Tiriel peers at Una a bit and sighs deeply, really in a dramatic way. "I just want to be home in my forge." She mutters and then draws in another sigh to put on the 'happy' face a noble must wear. She looks to Ronan, looks the man up and down, "More prissy than I will ever be." She snickers and then seems to have her mood lightened a little more. She then bows towards Lady Devon and the others in her company. "A pleasure." She speaks, "I do hope things find you well." Yep. Noble mode. Tiriel 2.1.

Now that she's done her duty greeting Young Lord Sir Jarek, Elodie finally manages to find her family, and steps closer to them as they move through the room. "Lady Iah, you are outshining everyone, tonight. I'm lucky I get to call you sister and bask in your glory," she grins as she finally catches up to give her older sister a greeting kiss. "And I'm sure you promised Lady Sir Tiriel something extra special tonight, as she is looking splendid as well." Ronan is saved for last, and she gives his posture a once over, grinning mischievously to him. She steps forward to hug him, speaking softly to him and then takes a place to his side as she looks around those gathered.

Now that she's done her duty greeting Young Lord Sir Jarek, Lady Doctor Elodie finally manages to find her family, and steps closer to them as they move through the room. "Lady Iah, you are outshining everyone, tonight. I'm lucky I get to call you sister and bask in your glory," she grins as she finally catches up to give her older sister a greeting kiss. "And I'm sure you promised Lady Sir Tiriel something extra special tonight, as she is looking splendid as well." Ronan is saved for last, and she gives his posture a once over, grinning mischievously to him. She steps forward to hug him, speaking softly to him and then takes a place to his side as she looks around those gathered.

"Thank you," Devon says softly to Victor as he orders her a mead, and then she turns toward Agnes at her very astute observation. She offers her a bit of a smile that does not quite touch her eyes. "Thank you, Sir Agnes. And yes, it was quite a surprise, yes… but marriages like ours ar enot unheard of. We now just have to find a rhythm." She nods. "I'm sure that the Six will guide us through this." Then she glances toward Victor, stepping up to him to take the bottle or glass of mead from him once he delivers it. When she looks up to him, her eyes whiten just slightly before she takes her place at his side once more. Then she smiles over toward Tiriel, who is familiar. "Sir Tiriel, good to see you again>"

Jarek smiles at those who've just entered, nodding to Johana and Erik. "Glad you made it." he smiles over at Tristan, oh no he's not getting away from the ever observant Jarek. "Lord Tristan, how good of you to come tonight." he then looks to Tiriel and Ronan and Una. "My father and I thank you for the Ice wine, we sampled a little last night, it was amazing. A bottle was taken to the Saimhann Chantry on Primus to be an altar gift." he then moves to stand at one end of the hall on a small riser so he voice can carry. The sculpture in the center is places on pause, "Greeting everyone, House Saimhann welcomes you to the Drakholt. And to Spikka, and to the Drake mountains. We are very pleased to have you all here tonight, and we hope this party will be quite fun. We've set up a dancing area if anyone would like, and the speaker system was set up so that the music will only be heared on the dancefloor. I encourage you all to mingle, chat, and have a drink. Food related refreshments are available on the three tables located about the room."

Six Saimhann knights come out in their finery and the tallest of the group clears his throat for attention. "He would like to give you all a demonstration of the fighting styles of the Saimhann clans." with that two of the knights move to a section of the floor and brandish weapons at each other. They begin their small spar until the third joins in suddently, surprising one of the two and causing him to fall. The demonstration boasts great flourishing displays of their skill and prowess. Then the knights bow to the crowd, and exit the hall.

Agnes watches the exhibition of Saimhann swordplay curiously as she sips her beer. At least the modest clothing request allowed her to wear flat sandals tonight. She chats amicably, if a bit nervously, with the other guests, sticking close to her squire and pointing out the who's who among the nobles.

Chiron now looks a little overwhelmed, it's obvious the country boy is /not/ at all used to formal events such as these. He bows, "Lady Una! I didn't think I would see you here… but then, I guess I should expect it. How are you this evening?" He seems slightly more relieved, seeing another familiar face. He doesn't leave Agnes's side as he flashes a smile to Tristan.

Una chuckles at Ronan. "You're fine. Surely, you at least have something underneath all that?" Then again its tight enough, perhaps not… A blush accompanies Elodie's words, though she shakes her head, "Too much, Elodie, really. Its only a gown. And yours is just as lovely. It suits you more, I think." Tiriel is given a sidelong glance, and a /much/ smaller though no less annoyed sigh before she too smiles to Victor, offering her hand in Tiriel's place. "Sir Victor, a pleasure. My wife, Lady Sir Iah." She gestures to Tiriel. She starts to say more, but then Jarek is taking his place at the riser, so she turns to listen. The speech and following spar are both given her full attention, her eyes widening slightly at the surprises. When it is finished she clapps along with those who do the same, her eyes going to Tiriel to guadge the knight's reaction.

Victor shrugs a little helplessly when the Iah's do their bow-nod thing instead of shaking hands, and he bows his head as well. Agnes' words cause him to chuckle, but Devon answers them well enough for him, and he just smirks down to the Grantham, "I'm sure They will eventually. May They Guide Us." The last is the traditional benediction of the Chantry, but for all his handshakes, beer-drinking, et al, he says it with all his heart. He hands out beers and mead, his shoulders stiffening ever-so-slightly as Devon's eyes go white, but then relaxing away again. He nods to her, and raises his bottle in salute a touch, then takes a swig. The announcements from the center draw his attention, and he raises up his bottle in salute again, then watches the sparring match, chuckling softly as the third fighter surprises one of the first, "Didn't watch his flanks." Still, he claps one hand on his thigh as they finish, so as to not jar or spill his beer. Somewhere in there he provided a more direct greeting for Lady Iah.

As the combat begins, Tiriel looks off and is interested in the fighting styles of the Saimhann knights. She rests a hand on her sword at her side, grinning now as she watches the knights and then looks back to Una and the others, "Indeed a pleasure, Lady Devon. May I introduce my wife, the Lady Una." She grins with pride but still is a little distracted with the combat that goes on. She applauds as they conclude. "That was nice. I'd like to see them on ice, though."

Devon lifts her eyes to Victor at his benediction, and she actually places a bit of pressure on his arm when she captures his limb once more. She takes a sip from the dark, rich, caramel-colored liquid. It is sweet enough to mask that it has the ability to drop the strongest Grantham in 3.5 bottles. She straightens up a bit in her poise as she is introduced to the Iah's Head of House, and she inclines her head gently to her with a gentle smile. "Lady Una, I was very lucky to have your wife escort me through Shelter. It is a lovely place." Then she glances toward the sparring Knights, though she smirks up toward Victor at his commentary.

Tristan lets out a deep breath as he's being noticed. "Young Lord Saimhann," he offers to the man. "Thank you for the invitation." Pausing briefly as he's said that, he goes back to glancing towards the door once more. Letting out a bit of a breath as he looks around once more, he nods to Chiron, offering the man a brief grin, before he looks to that demonstration of combat, while stepping back a bit quietly.

Ronan looks at Elodie, "This mouse plays in front of the cat as much as he does behind it." He sighs, "I have like two more layers underneath this… If I had known that formal was mother's formal light I would have underdressed." He watches the demonstration, smirking slightly at Tiriel's comment. "No I am truly going to find something to drink… And yes I know… and all things have their limit and in this do not cross that."

Leading Johana away as others begin greeting the Young Lord who is also getting ready to make his greeting announcement, Erik continues to look at the others that are attending the event. Some faces familiar, some aren't. When there is dancing mentioned, there is a gentle squeeze of the Valen's arms against the Ibrahm's, "So, do you want to find a passing servant for refreshments, enjoy ourselves on the dance floor like we did at my brother's wedding, or something else?" Options offered as there is plenty of people around mingling and whatnot. When the sparring knights appear, they are given a breif glance by Erik.

Una's nods to Devon with a warm smile. "I am glad she was able to do so for you. I feel we owe you a great debt, Lady Devon." She lets the Ash Witch return to her other conversations after her greeting, letting her eyes move to Chiron, then curiously to Tristan. Stepping up to the soon to be aquire she asks quietly, "Is that Lord Sir Tristan? Your sister has mentioned him to me, I've been hoping very much to meet him."

"Made you blush," Elodie half sings to her sister and she chuckles to Ronan before she subsides to listen to Jarek and watch the fighting. Her head tips slightly as observes the motions, and she claps appropriately, then, as her habit, becomes the Iah wall flower. She stands just slightly to her sister and wife, her gaze perplexed at Ronan's little speech to Tiriel as he goes to find a drink.

The last of the three knights, who've remained. Speak in unison. "Mind Your Step!" The motto of the house, and the three knights from earlier combat back out, this time dressed as hostiles (well mockingly so) and projectors hidden about the room. Suddenly, there are holographic tall grasses hiding the first thre knights. The 'hostile' knights begin to walk through the grasses, the grasses russtle with imaginairy winds and then. The 'hostile' knights find themselves surrounded, the knights who'd been hiding not in the same spots they'd been to start with. Not a sound had been made and the holograss clearly displaying that it responds to movements as their every move causes shifting in the holograsses. They begin to fight, the three knights work like a unit and take the 'hostile' knights down after a short seemingly tough won spar.

Jarek gets back onto his riser, "Please give a cheer for the finest of the house military. Golds One, Two, Three, Five and Reds Seven, Nine and last be not least, Blue Six." he pauses looking to the knights who come to attention when their names are spoken, "Dismissed, thank you." he says to them. They exit through the door… then, the lights die out. Every thing goes silent and nothing can be seen. There is a momentary (about ten seconds) flare as the holofire from the sculpture billows into the room, then all is pitch black again.

Victor nods at Tiriel, "Yeah, that stuff's," see, he's on good behavior, he didn't say 'shit,' "hell to run on or fight on." He takes another pull of his beer, making sure that he's out of the way of anyone else looking to get a drink. He looks down to Devon at the pressure on his arm, and his broad shoulders rise and fall slightly in a helpless shrug and a chuckle, "Well don't you just know everbody?" His chuckles rise slightly in volume, "I just thought you were an ass-kicker like the — " and then the lights go out.

Devon looks a touch abashed by Una's words, and she shakes her head. "I wish I could have done more for your mother, my Lady," the Grantham says quietly before she offers her an apologetic smile. Then she glances back toward the sparring Knights with a slight arch of her brows. She brings her hands together to clap gently, glancing over toward Victor briefly at his words. "Of course I do…" She says with an air of satisfaction. She is about to turn back to the Iah and then the lights go out.

"Is everything all right?" A voice comes from within the darkness. "Is this a part of the show?" One might be able to hear a hand on a sword as it slightly comes out of it's home.

A hand waving does nothing but move air, unseen through the deep darkness. There is fumbling around behind and in front, for a place to set something down. "Where are the lights?" A female voice calls out, concerned.

Blackness. Holding the arm of her escort tighter, she doesn't answer his question, but there is a bit of shakiness in her voice as a million reasons why there is darkness creep in. Most prominent is a time in the mines and memories rush in. "Erik.." The voice is only a whisper this time, but in the darkness it seems to echo throughout the room. "Don't leave my side."

A sigh is heard in the darkness. "I wish I had my armor."

A gravelly voice from near the bar puts in, "Well shit." There's a liquid sound of a drink from the bottle, and then a quick sound of rustling cloth. HThe voice's owner doesn't join in the hubbub asking about the event, there are more than enough people filling the air with those questions.

Jarek calls out with his battle field bellow, "Everyone stay calm!" he doesn't move from his riser for a moment waiting. There is a flare from the sculpture and all can see for a moment, he does step down then the flare up is gone again. "Right, core controls… we need to find the core control panel.. it's, er. hidden somewhere." right, that helps.

By the food and drink, "Highly irregular!" A man says with a bit of a frown. Even in the dark there is the extra *Crunch* of a second bite of whatever food he'd started on before the lights went out.

"Easy, folks." Anabethe Khournas' voice is clear and confident, almost amused. "Not afraid of the dark here in Khournas. Can I get a light from some of the Awakened?"

There is a flutter of silk amongst the gathering by the bar, and a slight noise as if someone stepped on someone else's foot. "What…"

When darkness encloses the room after the somewhat interesting and comical sparring match finishes its conclusion, his free hand goes immediately to the pommel of his sword. The one that was linked to his date though pulls her closer to his side, instinctively closer in case it was something else, "Ana, I'm here, and I won't leave you. On my life." The hand tightens on the pommel until the host is heard.

"If this is part of the fun, then someone is dire need of a dictionary." There is a sound of rustling fabric following the young man's voice.

"Everyone stay still. What we don't need is people moving around until it is necessary." Comes a female voice with a gravel tone. "Lord Jarek. Are you there? What can we do to help? That is, if this is not a staged event."

"No, this was not planned. Yes, Awakened… if you can." comes the familiar voice of the host, "I am here, stay where you are for now…" he looks around clearly unable to see. "Wait! No, Awakened don't flair up in here."

Most likely." A quiet voice speaks, a hand reaching out to find the one pulling the sword free, "Its probably just… ah. Well, perhaps not. Tiriel. Ronan, Elodie. Let me know where you are? Stay in place though, if you can."

"Just a moment, Anabethe," the soft tones of the Ash Witch reply. "I just need… a moment." And there's the sound of more fabric rustling as if someone is standing up after tripping over stepping on someone's foot.

The low, male voice grumps, "Ow… that fuckin' hurt…" in the wake of the foot-stepping on, and a bit of a clatter as the voice's owner finds a section of the bar to put his bottle down on. Boots shuffle on the stone floor, and he adds, "I do want my damned axe now if this isn't planned." Even those sharp, gravelly tones don't cut through the hubbub though.

"I haven't moved, Una. I hope I'm still just behind you," comes the complacent reply. Panicked the owner of the voice is not.

There is the clink of glass as something is set down near the bar. "This is why I dislike dresses. There was no place to put a weapon in this thing," a female voice gruffs as they try not to move too much.

Moving towards the sounds of the voices, he finds someone in the dark, "Those with powers, there is a defence field up right now… for the storm you'll cause an overload in the system according to an engineer… we need to find that control panel."

The woman's voice full of gravel comes, "Tiriel. Right next to you, Una." As her hand goes out to possibly find Una and Ronan. "Feeling around for you and Ronan." Then the voices comes again, "Then don't wear the damned things. I don't." Out in the general direction of the dress remark.

Darkness like that. Not a good thing. And so there comes a few muttered words over from near the wall. "Should have stayed at home… Never does anything good come out of something like this…"

"Yes." The quiet voice preceeds a hand reaching behind the woman, "I didn't ecpect you would." There's a chuckle for her wife's comment about dresses, "Perhaps the time for fashion advise is later, love. Now we need to find a way to help everyone see, or to find that panel."

Sometimes in the darkness whispers and sounds take on almost menacing proportions. As the sounds carry on, the woman with the vivid imagination from past events takes in each draw of the sword, each muttered curse. As the man at her side wraps his arms tightly around her and whispers reassurances, she presses closer, not wanting to be away from the safety of his embrace. Also, she remains quiet. Cannot find her if she doesn't speak, right?

Despite there being an expected flare up at the bar, it remains dark over there. A firm voice informs in the dark that, "As you wish, My Lord." There is a slight coolness there.

Since there is no immediate danger and solutions are attempted to be found, the man can feel his date pressing closer and holding tighter. He immediately recognizes why and the hand that was on the pommel leaves it so it can wrap around her, quiet whispers offered.

"Right, anyone have something that lights up? There will be flare ups from the sculpture… and the control pannel was in one of the pillars last I saw it." he voice comes through, "Agnes? You over here?" his hands reaching out about about his shoulder height.

"I am over here, Jarek!" comes the female voice near the bar. "The pillars you say?" There is the sound of shuffling, careful shuffling, towards where the Young Lord's voice originated.

"I have a flint that I use to light my forge." A voice comes, the female with the gravel. "Just a striker if you have something to light?"

The gravelly male voice by the bar drips wry amusement as it speaks quietly, "And you don't even get to show off your party trick, Dee." Raising upward, the voice continues, "Lady Iah, Sir Tiriel, you all want to help search the pillars over here?" There's another rustling of cloth, and then a pale blue flame comes into view in front of Victor's face, "Hah! I knew I had a lighter in here. No damned cigars, but at least there's a lighter."

"Pillars, excellent." The quiet voice firms, taking on a more commanding tone. "Is anyone near one of the pillars?" A sigh follows, though really its not so much of a bad thing at the moment, "Seriously? You brought flint to a /party/?"

"I don't see how a mere light ball could threaten the hall," the aforementioned 'Dee' says tersely to Victor.

The gravel voice comes, "I always have it on me. You dragged me out of the forge and dressed me." As a flicker of spark comes in front of Tiriel's face. "It's your fault." She keeps striking it for little bits of light to make her way to the pillars.

With the small flame and then the sculpture's holofire flaring up again, everyone can see where they are for a moment then they can just see the faint light of Vic's slightly illuminated face. "Lady Devon, if can keep the magic to a minimum for a moment, see if anything happens… perhaps the conductors are offline too." he finds his way to the one he was looking for, and places a hand to a shoulder he hopes.

"THAT'S NOT MY SHOULDER!" A female voice shrieks out.

"Umph." A man voice grunts. "Whoever is right behind me… would you please take a couple steps away from the sound of my voice… You're standing on my train." A second later, "Thank you…" Followed by, "That's it…" There is the sound of metal and leather hitting the floor, followed by quite a bit of fabric being moved about and a soft, muffled thud on the floor.

In the center of that oh-so-small circle of pale blue light from his butane lighter, Victor stands behind Devon. He shrugs to her, "Hell if I know how these damned generators work." The shriek causes him to look up, a snorting chuckle rising to his lips. Shaking it off, he calls out, "Anyone near some votives? Bring them over, and we can get some real light."

Devon straightens up a bit as the light casts a pale hue across her features. She merely looks ever-the-more blue. She looks mildly annoyed.

"Not me, I think," comes the quiet answer from over by the wall at the mention of being near pillars. "Why did I come here again…?" is muttered more quietly as it seems the person is starting to move a little, at least.

Tiriel moves towards the pillars as the light illuminates the small group. "So the panel is in the pillars?" As she moves around, feeling with her hands and trying to find the lighting console.

Feeling the arms around her, she buries her face against the fabric of the man next to her. After a few moments, panic resides and she breathes a lot easier. It wasn't the past, it wasn't like that. Still, she doesn't speak, but she seems stronger now.

"Agnes?" he asks perplexed for a moment, hand not moving. What is he hol… oh. "Ah, uh… sorry." his hand tries to sail up and to the left now. Then there's a loud popping noise as the sculpture's holoprojectors fail. He grabs for something on the bar, and gets a bottle. "Here Vic, light the fumes that should work." though he has no idea if they an see him.

At the edge of the circle, now barely illuminated, Una turns with a nod. She remembers being near a table. She takes only enough time to check to see where Tiriel stands, then turns to find the table that held the drinks. And hopefully a few candles as well. "Don't poke anyone with your sword, please." Is called out softly, with just enough amusement to make it clear that it is a joke.

There's the sound of a couple of steps, backing towards the wall, and then an elbow finds there isn't hard wall behind, 'oh, sorry,' comes a female voice as she realizes she's just elbowed someone, somehow. She sidesteps until she feels wall against her back, and then reaches down into her clutch. After a moment, a small pinpoint of light meant to look in people's eyes and ears can be seen as a floating pinprick of light.

A hand pats the one Jarek placed on her shoulder. "That's better," the female voice notes. "What does this contraption involve, beyond finding where it's hidden? I know nothing of electronics," she notes.

The lighter moves slowly away from Victor's face, leaving he and Devon in darkness as he extends it out in the direction of Jarek's voice, "Stuff a rag in it first." Someone knows how to create low-tech chaos. "Then light the rag off this. It'll burn longer."

"I wonder where you learned that," says the woman voice near Victor.

"OW!" comes the sound from the person by the wall, now right near the female voice that apologized. "Watch where you're going?" Not that such a thing is possible at the moment, but that's details. Footsteps again as the person makes his way along the wall for a few moments again. "Never again…" is muttered as well.

Taking the small flame from the hand it glows, Jarek comes into view for a moment. He reaches around the bar and gets out a rag, stuffing it into the bottle and letting it soak. Then he lights it with the lighter. It roars to life and provides enough light for himself, Agnes, Chiron a little bit, and then Vic and Devon to be seen. "Alright, lets get to the pillar near the back of the place… knowing these architects they would put it high up and away from the obvious."

"High up, naturally," Agnes groans. "And I'm in a dress. Climbing in a dress is really not my forte, Jarek." She follows the tiny lightsource as the Young Lord leads them.

The blaze of flame washing over Victor and Devon reveals her them standing close, facing one another, so as to not get in the way of those stumbling around in the dark. Victor nods at Jarek, turning his head around a little distractedly, "If you want, you can pass that 'round, get other things lit up. Just don't blame me if the whole place burrns down."

Now that she has light, of sorts, and her family is easier to see as it moves along with Tiriel's flint, Elodie carefully steps towards them. "Now we just need to find the right pillar," she says unecessarily at Una's elbow. Although she can see her sister in the small bit of light, she's barely got any light touching her.

Shaking her head, the woman quickly disagrees. "No, I want to go too, let's go see if there's anything we can do to help.

"I'll get the rest lit up." Una says, stepping into the light of Jarek's torch. "If you'll hand me the lighter, please."

There is a slight scuffing sound as someone hops up onto something. There is a clink of glass against something hard and wooden.

Jarek hands over the lighter to Una, "Thank you." then to nods to Victor, "You know Vic, if I knew any better I'd say you wanted to burn the place down." he grins slightly before looking to Agnes, "Well, I can help you climb if you don't mind my hand on you again." he says softly. He leads them to a pillar and hrms at it. "There was a way to tell which pillar it was too. Something about the midnight hour, and the hexagons." he looks at the most inner hexagon for a long moment seemingly unsure.

Devon looks a touch less annoyed, suggesting that perhaps someone has at least talked her down. She inhales sharply through her nose as she straightens a bit, offering a slight nod of her head to Victor's words. She turns her head toward where that clink of glass is heard. But then Jarek steps away and washes the two in shadow once more.

Hearing her, the man that is escorting her squeezes her arm to show understanding and begins to lead her towards the light sources, moving slowly as not wanting to bump into someone else on the way there.

From by the wall again, there's the sound of someone dropping to the ground, and then humming can be heard, quiet at first, then a bit louder. Sounds like the humming someone is doing in an attempt to calm themselves or something.

Agnes gives Jarek a bit of a stink eye. "How do I know this isn't all a setup to put your hand somewhere inappropriate?" she asks. But she smiles a moment later, clearly joking. "Midnight and the hexagons? What in the Six is that supposed to mean?"

"Ronan, will you and Tiriel take her flint and light a few bottles? Elodie, if you'll help me, we can pass these around while they look for the pillar, so everyone can have a little light." Una moves toward the bar, and with a bit of rummaging finds a few more rags. Half are offered to Tiriel, the rest to Elodie. "I'd rather use something other than these alchohol bottles, if we can find something. Though I suppose they'll do."

The gravelly male voice that can be presumed to be Victor's responds with a chuckle that bubbles up his throat like molassas, "Hell no, Jay. I've gotten drunk here too many times. And can't you Saimhann," which could very nearly be 'we' Saimhann "do anything without a prophecy?" Then the voice muffles slightly, the speaker turning his head downward to speak to his companion of the moment, "And I'm a Crimson Drake. Of course I know how to burn stuff."

"I should know this too… I mean I used to climb these pillars all the time." he grins at Agnes, "Do I need some hugely elaborate setup for that? Cause I can arrange for something…" he's also teasing her, he looks at where Vic's voice comes from. "Not that I know of Vic." he calls back, looking again at the hexagons. "Right! Look at the inner and outer hexagons… the two that line up with the points to midnight and six of the clock will have the panel hidden there somewhere and how." This pillar isn't it.

Placing her pen light back into her clutch, and tucking it under her elbow, she takes bottles as they're given to her and passes them around, glancing herself to look for the right pillar as she goes.

"So do they point up and down, or forward and back? Which plane is midnight and six on?" Agnes asks. She hits things with other things. Puzzles are not something she's versed at.

"Crimson Drake?" Asks a curious, but obviously Devon voice.

From the direction of the bar, "The alcohol here won't really burn anyway… nothing has a high enough alcohol content…" He pauses and fishes out a flask, "However, this might." The sound of booted feets together hitting the floor from a slight distance. Stepping into the light, Ronan is holding a silver flask. "This should burn without any problems."

There's a pause before Victor-voice answers either inquiry, and then he clears his throat, "Crimson Drake. A bunch of us knights and nobles who hang out with Bethe. Ride 'round, listen to problems of the Cits," There's another pause, "drink, hunt, fight. The good stuff." And then the voice rises up, almost … thoughtful for the man, "Tell me which one to climb, Jay, and I'll head up it."

"The flat plane? I don't know Agnes… I just live here!" Jarek says to her a little exasperated. If they were going for not seeming like a couple in public, since they aren't, they aren't doing a good job of it. "I think it's just up and down… only one pillar here points that way with both, I remember it was… right… these pillars have hexagons all the way up… it could be any one of them. Try the one with the altar to the Mother and Father either side of it. Knowing my house… it's that one."

"Thank you, Ronan." With a smile, Una accepts the flask and pours a bit into a few bottles to strengthen their burning ability. She hands it over to Tiriel then, and quickly makes a few 'lamps' to pass to Elodie. "Try to spread them out, that way we can have as much light as possible."

Agnes stops for a moment, and with a loud riiiiiiiiiiiipppppppp she tears off the bottom part of her dress from about mid thigh to the floor. "Can't climb like that," she notes with a grumble. "Give me a boost and give me the light, Jarek."

Tiriel strikes the striker and alights the small lamps and passes them on to Elodie to illuminate the room.

"How…" There is a pause, replying to Victor's description of this Crimson Drake premise. "Interesting…?" There is another pause, perhaps thoughtful before she asks. "What about wives of Crimson Drakes?" Then there is a touch of quiet as if waiting for Jarek's instructions.

Elodie takes the light from Una, and while she hands one over to someone else, she takes one for herself as well, looking at the pillar closest to her for the mentioned altars that she overhears Jarek mentioning.

Elodie takes one from Tiriel as well.

Jarek blinks at Agnes, right… mind on the task at hand Jarek, mind on the task at hand. He hands her the light and then gets behind her to lift her, surprisingly easily given that she's also solid muscle but then again she's not really that large aside from tall. He hoists her to the pillar, and even if she protests he places a hand on one cheek and the other moves to her calf to assist her in getting enough height. His head swivels to the Devon, "You able to use that magic to search for energy sources? Or something to that effect? Or can you try and pry that door over there open? The one to the hallway?"

Once she has a torch, Anabethe raises it a little higher, taking stock of the people in the hall. "Jarek, we're getting you upgraded after this," she calls over to the Young Lord. "We're Khourni, can't be having sub-par equipment."

Agnes lets out a little squeak when there is a hand on her backside, and thank goodness in the dim light no one can tell she's blushing a shade of red that would harken back to Old Earth fire engines. She inspects the hexagon's carefully.

Having gotten to his feet, and moved to get one of the torches, Tristan is still humming to himself as he tries to help making sure the area is illuminated. He can do that much, at least.

As light flares through the room, casting at least some glow onto most everywhere, Victor raises his head, one hand coming up to shade eyes that have become accustomed to the dark. He pauses a moment, looking down to Devon where she still stands before him, "A couple of the Drakes are married to other Drakes, a couple to non-Drakes." The lifting of nearly-dress-less Agnes causes him to look up, arching his eyebrows, his low, raspy voice inquiring, "Really Jay? Everything goes dark, and you're playing grabass?"

Tiriel watches as Agnes is lifted up and gives a little appreciative smile before she catches herself and looks back to Una with a sheepish smile.

Ronan helps disperse the makeshift lights. Hopefully this will help those in the darkness keep calm.

Devon straightens up as the light washes over them, and she squints her own eyes thoughtfully. Then she breathes out a slow sigh that seems to sink her shoulders a bit. She looks up to meet the glance down to her, and she seems a touch reluctant to step away as if any moment they could be in darkness once more. Then a bit of a sharp smirk settles on her lips and she casts Victor a slightly incredulous look.

Jarek turns to look at Vic, "You know though… I didn't actually plan for this… so happy surprise?" he jokes back at Vic. "You see anything yet Agnes? Much as I like holding you like this and all… better lighting might be good… plus use of the doors perhaps?" he calls up to her, then remembers Anabethe's words, "You know, we've had this issue before during storm season… this place is old. Built by superstitious architects."

"There's nothing on this one, Jarek, you can let me down now," Agnes notes, climbing as best she can back to ground level.

As the light flares again, Erik and Ana are arm in arm, with Ana blinking at the sudden almost blinding light. "Finally," she whispers softly, but remains there at the side where they had gathered to remain out of the main path so they didn't get stepped on.

Tiriel goes back to the pillar nearest to her and looks a little curious for a moment. She looks about the immediate area and then wraps her arms around the pillar and digs her feet into it for a moment as she launches herself up the pillar before she falls back to the ground, "I think we have one here." She speaks and pulls out her sword to tap the area she thinks is a panel.

Una passes out all of the lights save for one, which she holds up in order to search for her family. Tiriel is easily spotted, mostly due to the fact that she is suddenly climbing a pillar not far away. Moving closer, Una positions herself at the base to give her wife more light. She keeps an eye out for her siblings as she does so.

Victor returns Devon's smirk with one of his own, shrugging his broad shoulders helplessly. After a moment, he rests his left hand on her shoulder, then steps away, looking upward at the streamers passed from side to side. Three quick steps, and he leaps upward, his fingers brushing just shy of one of the streamers. And then he thuds back down to the ground, off-balance enough to sprawl onto his hands and knees a moment. Working his right knee, he shakes his head, looking up again and then grinning over to Devon, "Want to show 'em how it's done? Bet I can boost you high enough to grab a streamer, Dee, and I can use that to help me climb a pillar."

Elodie returns to Tiriel and Una after passing on the second light, the spectacle of watching Agnes and Jarek having diverted her attention from looking. As Tiriel jumps up, then taps at a panel, she nods once. "Maybe if I could get on your shoulders, I could take a closer look?" she offers.

Chiron has kept quite and sat still ever sense the lights went out, not wanting to cause any /more/ problems then the lights, but now that the room is becoming a little more illuminated he can see Agnes being held up by Jarek. The conversation about the situation doesn't help at all as he stands up from his chair and removing his cloak. When Agnes is let down he hands her the cloak and says. "I uh… Here you go, Sir." He tries very hard to keep eye contact and /not/ look down.

Stopping his humming as there's a bit of light again, Tristan looks around for a few moments, at the people present. "How about remodeling? Or something…" It's offered in Jarek's direction a bit quietly, before he hears Tiriel's words now. "Let's hope it's that one…" he mutters.

"Alright Agnes." and he does help to lower her to the ground. He gives her a little pat on the behind, "Guess you should take that cloak." he chuckles at her, "Sorry about the hand grabs… you know I didn't intend for all that right?" before he's moving in the direction of Tiriel, "Bethe, Vic, Devon lets get this place lit up."

All Aggie's important bits are still covered, it's just rather short. She thanks Chiron quietly for the cloak though, and drapes it over her shoulders to give herself a bit of cover that still lets her move. "Of course you didn't mean it, Jarek," she says quietly, still blushing. "As long as it doesn't wind up in the tabloids, all is forgiven."

Devon looks after Victor as he departs, though she blinks a bit at his suggestion. She looks around cautiously before she squares back her shoulders and offers a vague nod of her head. "Alright, but…" There is a warning note in her tone before she steps toward him, sweeping up her skirts a bit as she does.

"Una glances at Tiriel, sighing as she guesses the likely answer to her sister;s question. Turning to Elodie, she places a hand on her shoulder and murmurs, "Perhaps you should make a few rounds, make sure no one's panicing in a corner. Or injured, though I think everyone is hopefully still alright… "

Tiriel wrinkles her nose a little as Elodie offers, "I think I have this." As she looks to the pillar section once again. A little flick of each foot and she gives a bit of a jump to land at the corner of a table with her heel and then digs a boot spike in a wall and then the pillar. She reaches up to the now accessible panel and gives it a tug. "Locked or stuck. Got a key or shall I just pry it off?"

"Unless all it needs is a switch flipped, I'm kind of not your girl," Anabethe says with a rueful twist of her lips, shaking her head as she holds up her torch. "Electronics aren't really my gift."

Getting to Tiriel as she jump plants herself near the panel, "The hexagons rotate into place. You need to make it so the dawn rises according to the song thing… I know, I know." he says preemptively to Victor.

Elodie's expression goes blank at Tiriel's response, and she nods wordlessly to Una. Leaving her family group again, the young doctor travels about the room once more.

Victor shakes his head at Devon, "Naw, don't worry, I wasn't gonna suggest tearing your skirts, just boosting you up to get a streamer, so I can loop it around a pillar and cli — " Bouncy, bouncy, bouncy Tiriel. Victor watches her progress, and he grunts, "Well that idea's D.O.A." Looking over to Jarek, he arches an eyebrow, "Lit up? Whatcha got in mind?" He gestures up to the lady-knight up the pillar, "Besides that. And yeah. Everything with a prophecy. I'm surprised y'all can take a piss without one." At least he's grinning when he says that, obviously teasing.

Agnes watches Tiriel's climb, looking impressed by the woman's agility. She stands by Chiron, resting a hand on the young man's shoulder to reassure him.

Tiriel peers down at the person speaking to her, "A puzzle?" She looks back to the hexagons. "Seriously. You put a puzzle on a panel that controls your electronics. We just painted an ice bear on ours." She beams a smile down to Jarek and Victor. There is a bit of a look after Elodie and her nose wrinkles a bit, "Look. I don't give a darn about what I look like dirty… But I care about the women in my care. So… Let me do the dirty work." As she begins to try and solve the puzzle.

Ronan smirks, "Tir, that's because.. if the power goes out at home for too long, everyone dies. Practicality, you know…" He is leaning against the bar with a bottle of wine, well a wine bottle and some of its contents still present, in hand.

Victor calls up to Tiriel, "We just wrote 'fuse box' on ours." He looks around to see who has his lighter, making a beckoning gesture with it, "So if this is twelve, do we need someone at six too? I lost track of the prophecy of electronics repair." The last words are spoken with a grin on his lips.

Shaking his head as he listens now, Tristan goes back to his humming. Not seeming to realize that it might be a little irritating to some people, or something. Just looking around, not at any single person present.

Laughing softly, Jarek points to Vic, "Try that Tiriel, rotate the thing in the sunwise direction to six… so a half circle." then he pauses to see if that works… and, it doesn't. "Alright, just break the damn thing I'll explain to dad later."

Agnes facepalms. No really, she does. Leave it to Khourni vassals to just decide to break things when it's easier.

Tiriel stares at the puzzle and turns a few of the hexagons for a bit. It seems like nothing she does gets them any closer to getting it open. She peers at the puzzle a little bit more and then balls up a fist and punches the puzzle in a good section. The door pops open and she grins down at those below. One of her hands goes up and gives a thumbs up. "Aaayyyyeeee."

Una hands the lighter over Victor, then steps back to warily watch Tiriel try to solve the puzzle. A look to match her wife's tone is given to Jarek, but she keeps her own comments about puzzles and electrical panels to herself. Wincing, then letting out a rather unladylike snort, she reaches up a hand to her face. "Oh, love." She mutters under her breath, "The swords you will have to sell to pay for that… "

Most people seem to have actually been well behaved in this affair. Probably part of having most of the population trained for war, there was almost no panicking, and any 'wounds' are only minor scratches or bruises. Nothing that needs to be attended to by Elodie, but she makes the rounds all the same, taking her time to be sure there's no one still huddled under a table somewhere that might be injured.

Jarek gives a small cheer, "Right, so now take a look at the panel… according to the engineers this part is easy. Just pull out the power relay chips and slide them back in again." of course, looking at the panel, there are no chips… all wires. Tons and tons of wire. Most of which seem fused to together from what ever huge surge caused the outage.

Agnes looks to Victor and Devon. "Clearly, I should have taken some classes that didn't involve killing things with other things."

Victor shrugs at Una, "Hey… she was downright patient compared to what I would've done." He shakes the lighter when he gets it back, evidently satisfied that he's not run out of fuel. That done, he tucks it away once more, then moves back over to the bar to get another beer and a second mead for Devon, wherever her last drink went. Like the others, he watches Tiriel work her magic on the box. At Agnes' words, he half-turns his head, "Electronics are important for killing things too. Suit AI's a powerful tool."

Una leaves Jarek and Tiriel to the panel workings, though with a wary look. The longer she watches, she reasons, the more she will worry about the damage that restoring the lights might cause. Following in Elodie's footsteps, she takes a small walk through the crowds, looking for anyone her sister might have missed who could use help. This is how she spots Tristan, and with a small curious frown approaches him. "Lord Sir Tristan, yes?"

The Ash Witch casts a smile toward Agnes at her words, and she shakes her head. "Certainly being able to knap obsidian would not have helped in this situation." She squares her shoulders back a bit as she looks back up toward Tiriel. She glances down though as a glass of mead appears before her, and she takes it gently from Victor's hands. She smiles up at him gently. "Thank you…"

Tiriel gives a little snicker, "Right up my alley." As she begins to pull out some of the wiring. Her lips purse and she peers into the panel as she works. "Wire A into slot 4. Wire D into slot 1. The kneebone connected to the thigh bone…" She gets zotted for that little bit of singing. "Son of a…" And her voice drops off as she tries to go back into noble mode and wiring genius.

Seeing that Tiriel has it pretty well set, Jarek beings to take stock of the situation. "Right… well, I'm sorry this evening wasn't quite fun folks. It would seem our house need some major electrical upgrading done before we entertain quests again." he smiles, and then LIGHTS! The whirring and the doors slide open then closed. "Wonderful, thanks you Tiriel… and Una. House Saimhann will not be charging for damages, seriously, you are our guests and we couldn't even keep the lights on for you." he looks at the rest of the gathered, "You'll welcome to stay or go as you'd like. I think I'll lift my father's ban on the hard stuff… bar's open guys. Have it."

Oh thank the gods, hard liquor! Agnes heads right for the bar. She's been groped twice tonight. "Sir Victor, what do you recommend I drink to forget about the last twenty minutes or so?" she asks.

Continuing his humming, Tristan comes to a stop as he hears his name mentioned. "Yes?" Looking to Una, he offers her a brief smile, before he looks away again. And then the lights comes back on, and he lets out a relieved breath.

Tiriel gives a little push off the pillar and lands on her feet. Another shake of each of her feet and the spikes that suit the ice moon's terrain slip back into her boots. She gives a little salute to Jarek and bows, "Thank you for your hospitality." As she moves over to her wife and smiles at her, "How did I do?" She asks, quietly.

Victor nods to Devon, "Of course. Can't have you sobering up at a party in the Crescent." Agnes' question comes in the middle of a slug of his beer, but he answers as soon as he's swallowed, no hesitation at all, "Fireball Whiskey. Start with three shots straight, then one shot every five minutes until you forget. Or pass out. Or… if you're a Valen," he knows she's not, but he's still got to say it with a sneer, "puke all over me."

Ronan leans back and fishes a couple random bottles from behind the bar. The houppelande has long since been discarded on the floor. He offers a bottle towards Agnes, "You can start with this, Lady Sir Agnes."

"Wine is much too mild," Agnes says to Ronan as she moves behind the bar to search for this fireball whiskey Victor spoke of. She also sets out a long line of shotglasses, then goes down the line filling them for everyone. Amusingly, the darkness didn't bug her. She lives in a mountain.

Una blinks, looking up from her position near Tristan. She nods, though obviously uncertain what she's done but glad to accept the thanks at least for Tiriel. Tristan is given another mildly surprised look, then a nod. "Apologies, I didn't mean to disturb." She slips away to meet Tiriel halwway. In a rare show, she takes her wife's hand and leans up on tiptoe to kiss the knight's cheek. "Very nice. No doubt they'll be talking about you here for weeks."

Sighing Jarek walks over to Agnes, "I barely touched you, was it really that horrible?" he asks softly, before he takes a shot glass and downs it. He looks to Victor and Devon, "So, you guys still staying over? I know this wasn't the best preview but I think it had to do with the holoprojectors fo the demonstration."

Spurred by Victor's words, Devon takes a solid swallow of her mead, tilting her head back a bit. Then she releases a heavy sigh of breath before she casts a glance toward Victor at his suggestion. Her brows arch a bit curiously before she taps her glass. "Speaking of Valen," she says before she offers a gently nod of her chin, though she is stalled in finding a proper and possible dance partner by Jarek. She glances toward Victor cautiously before she smiles back to the Saimhann. "I have been wishing to see the Drake Mountains…"

Chiron smiles as Agnes declines the wine and heads for the liquor. As she pours the drink he takes a look around to room to check and see if people he knows alright, mainly Una and Tristan. He gives them both an awkward smile, then watches Jarek and Agnes interact.

Agnes arches a brow at Jarek. "For a man who couldn't even bring himself to kiss me, for fear of breaking my heart, groping is about ten levels above that in intimacy, my Lord." She tosses back a shot of the whiskey and sets the glass down gently.

Victor spreads his hands helplessly at Jarek's question, then looks over to Devon in question a moment, nodding at her words, "Fuck, man, even if it was still pitch black, just gimme a cot and a blanket, and I'm good to go." He lifts the beer in salute, drains off a goodly portion of it, then adds, "As long as there's booze." Looking back to Devon, he points off to where the Fireball Whiskey is being poured, "And you /r/really//, really don't want to drink that shit. Even I don't." The warning is offered sotto voce, so as not to detract from the shot-slamming. And then he arches his brow at Devon, his lips pressing together for a long moment before he lets out a breath, "Go on, find yourself a Valen to dance with." There's something a bit grudging, even grouchy about the statement, but at least he makes it.

Looking a bit surprised now, Tristan pauses for a few moments, as he looks around once again, offering a brief nod and a half-smile to Chiron, before he does the most sensible thing to him. Heads for the doors quickly, and flees.

Tiriel gives a little bit of a smile and looks like a kid falling in love all over again… That is until she realizes that people might be watching and clears her throat. "Well. There is light. It has been a good night." She says and looks to Una for another moment. "Yes. Light." She nods and chuckles a bit.

Speaking of Valen, indeed. Elodie looks around, content that everyone is in ship shape, and her sister and wife are happy, her brother now relaxed in lesser clothes and with alcohol in hand. All is well, so she slips to the coat check and collects her cloak.

"I wasn't protecting your heart, Agnes… I. I didn't think you really wanted a kiss from me. So I held back. Trust me, it's still a struggle." Jarek takes another shot, and looks at Agnes.

"Take that as a yes, Sir Jarek," Devon says to the Young Lord, but does step away just before she starts worrying about the emotions being unfurled by the Peake and Saimhann. She goes off to find a Valen to dance with, though she does glance toward Victor briefly.

Una Glances away fro a second, the flush on her cheeks visible to anyone close. "Yes. Thanks to you and the others, we have light again. And we should make themost of it." Taking Tiriel's hand with a mischevious look in her eye, she starts weaving her way toward the dance floor.

"I very much doubt there is a single woman in Haven who would not want to kiss you, Lord Jarek. Granted, most single women are not of my age." Agnes down another fireball shot, then a third.

Victor nods to Devon, his left hand twitching a moment before it rises up to swap his beer into his left hand, "And I am going to go find some knight or man-at-arms who has a cigar on him." And then he heads off toward the outskirts of the party, although he actually finds himself in conversation with a knight almost as scarred-up as he is under his formal attire, both of them looking out over the dance floor idly as the chat.

Chiron scratches his head, getting slightly worried at just how much Agnes is drinking in such a short amount of time. He says nothing for now, but will walk up to her side and give her a smile.

"That didn't say you want me to kiss you." Jarek moves around the bar to get out another thing of whiskey and starts to pour shots as well. "It's not a matter of emotions for me, Agnes… or desire. Both are rather firmly set." he glaces to Chiron, then back to Agnes while taking a shot then another.

Tiriel looks to Una and chuckles as her wife leads her to the dance floor. She speaks, "One dance." And holds up a solitary finger to Una. "One." Once there on the floor, she pulls Una in close and begins to slowly glide her wife across the floor. Seems the gruff woman learned something in her lessons, that is… How to dance.

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Jarek! If you want to kiss me, KISS ME!" Agnes bellows. The fact she cursed is probably more of a shock than the bellow. This is Agnes, after all.

Chiron's eyes go wide. This is /not/ Agnes. He finially speaks up. "Uhh.. Sir Agnes? Might I remind you that you're at a formal party with half a dress… and you're drunk. We should /probably/ be getting you home."

Jarek takes Agnes into his arms and plants a kiss on her. A long kiss, before letting go of her and then just looking at her for a long time. He looks at Chiron when the man's words register, then shakes his head slightly looking at Agnes to deal with her own squire and life. He's kissed her, finally after eight years.

Flail. Flail. Agnes is surprised, but once the surprise passes she kind of, sort of, goes all wibbly wobbly in Jarek's arms as one foot kicks back and up, just like in the holovids. When it ends, she blinks at him, stunned, but not angry or upset. She continues to stare at Jarek, tilting her head ever so slightly as she answers her squire. "I think, maybe, I'd like to dance first, Chiron. Thank you for your kind attention to my situation, though."

Chiron just scratches his head and takes a seat, not exactly sure what to do next. He watches as the two of them dance and eyes the alcohol, but doesn't take a drink.

Jarek doesn't even miss a beat, and he scoops up Agnes into his arms and dance guides her to the floor where he gives a single ordered song to the machine. A slow dance kicks on and Jarek begins to what they'd started at the wedding. "I know we said we can't be more, Agnes… and I know your reasons for that. I respect them I do…" he looks into her eyes, "But, I could kiss you until the sun burnt out." as they move to the slow rhythm of the music.

Agnes dances with Jarek, eyes locked with his, and she looks a little bit dizzy from the kiss still. "If you ask your father, I will ask my brother. I cannot promise anything, Jarek, and neither can you, because we are who we are but if you are willing to try, so am I," she assures him.

Chiron watches everybody leave, leaving Agnes and Jarek the only two left in the room besides him. he lays his head on the bar, trying to go over what just happened. "Are all noble parties this way?" He thinks to himself.

Ronan returns back into the hall to find some of the discarded clothing that he left behind, when he shed the draping houppelande during the black out. He walks up behind Chiron, "No.. some are actually fun."

Jarek looks at Agnes for a long moment, "You serious about that?" he asks softly, a bit unassure if she's just a little tipsy and kiss drunk as well. Since it was her first kiss and all. "I mean… we've been telling everyone all this time that we're not like that… then, if there's a sudden banns about us…" he looks at Agnes, "I'm not saying no, cause…" he pauses, "Agnes Lilynna Peake…" he starts, the music continues but he stops and gets down on a knee… "will you make me the happiest man in Haven and marry me?"

Agnes blinks down at Jarek, tears welling in her eyes. "If our families agree to it, yes, Jarek, I will. And I will find joy in being married to my best friend, one whom I can fight alongside and rest happy in the arms of." She cups one of his cheeks with a hand.

Chiron raises an eyebrow at Ronan, a little shocked. "Bold words said in the host's house." He laughs. He watches the two of them dance and his eyes go wide when Jarek proposes. "I uh… well. How about that."

Ronan shrugs slightly, "Perhaps thoughtless or careless words that just happen to roll off a bold tongue." He watches the two, then the purpose. "No, that would be careless words…" He looks to Chiron, "But if you doubt me on my words… I'll invite you along the next time I go partying and show you what a good time really looks like… Generally the only times the lights go out is when they are meant to."

Jarek stands back up, and though he's all smiles he can only nod, "Right… the need to ask them first." he takes a breath, "I suppose just knowing makes it all that much easier to accept if they don't agree… but I'll send my letter… and one to your brother as well." The music stops and Jarek looks over towards Chiron, "Perhaps we should talk to your squire?"

"That would be wise," Agnes admits, to both the letters, and talking to poor Chiron. She takes Jarek's hand and leads him to the young man and Ronan. "I think we can safely stay in Drakholt tonight with guestright, Chiron. I promise to be in my own room." She's veritably beaming.

Chiron laughs, "I like you. My name is Chiron, soon to be squire to Sir Agnes, over there. And I would like that, at some point." He motions to the two of them as they walk towards the group. "Guestright? To you or the both of us?" He asks, looking for clarification.

"Lord Sir Ronan Iah." He responds to Chiron, "And so I heard this evening… Congratulations, Soon-to-be Young Master Chiron. Though I will admit, I already know your name. We met briefly while your sister was recovering in my family's hospitality." He looks to the two approaching nobles. He offers Jarek a nod, "Young Lord, it was quite an interesting evening." He glances towards Agnes, "Very interesting evening indeed."

"Well, technically Chiron doesn't need guestright to stay here. If I'm teaching him anything, then he's always welcome to use a guest room." Jarek smiles at him, then looks to Agnes, "Hard as it may be to think of you as just down a flight a stairs and a hallway away… but I suppose I could restrain myself." he smiles, clearly he's fine if they keep it a kiss for now based on his tone. He smiles with a nod to Ronan, "I sure hope your Ladies Una and Tiriel weren't offended by the sudden folly of my own house hold."

"Lord Ronan, a pleasure," Agnes says solemnly, blushing a touch at Jarek's words. "Believe me, you waited eight years to kiss me, you can wait a bit longer for more than that, Young Lord."

Chiron throws his hands up and says apologetically, "Lord Sir Ronan, I remember now. Yes, I had forgotten and was rather distraught over my sister's… misfortunes on that planet." He frowns, and gives Agnes a look of thankfulness. "You're going to have to just tell me what the correct political course of action is here. Is it polite to stay, or am I free to go?" He says, turning his head to Jarek.

Ronan chuckles softly, "It is quite alright, Chiron. You were very tired and very worried about your sister. I understand that all too well." He cocks his head, "Well, if Guestright is offered, it would be impolite to refuse it, so long as there is nothing pressing that requires your presence to be dealt with of a sufficient importance." He smiles to Jarek, "Oh, Lady Iah is very difficult to be offended. I would not let it worry you for one minute, You Lord."

Jarek nods with what Ronan says about Guestright, "You, however, are a special case Chiron. You agreed to lesson from me about being a noble… as such, that makes you my understudy and therefore you do not need guestright. You may come and go as you please, you are never forced to be anywhere you don't wish to be." he smiles, and looks at Agnes. "Well, just a kiss wasn't all that waited eight years… but it would be rather… improper I guess." he chuckles softly, and places a light kiss on her cheek. "I'll show you your room's door, and see you tomorrow for breakfast?" he asks Agnes, before looking to Ronan, "Of course the invitation is there for you, but this place is a couple dozen times warmer than your home, so don't feel impolite to prefer your own bed."

"Thank you, Jarek. Chiron, you may stay or go as you feel necessary. I will be back in Khar-Mordune tomorrow, early, to finish some things for your squiring." Agnes smiles warmly at the young man, dips her head to Ronan, and then loops her arm through Jarek's to let him lead her to her room.

"I hadn't slept in about a day and a half… it was pretty scary." He said, shivering slightly. It's not sure if the shiver was from the memory of how cold the planet was, or if it was the memory of his sister being pulled up, out of the ice. "If it's all the same to you, I think I'd like to go home. I'd like to spend as much time with my family as I can, while I can." He gives the two of them a smile. "Thank you for having us."

Ronan nods. "You really must come back to Niveus and let me show the better side of my home." He grins and nods to Jarek, "Thank you, but I believe that I will, likewise, return to my own bed tonight… "

Jarek nods to Chiron, "Of course, and you do realize that just because you're squiring to Agnes dosn't mean you have to move to the mountain right? That is something you need to dicuss with her." he looks at Ronan, "Of course, see you both later." and then leads Agnes through a door, to a hallway and then they disappear.

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