Company+of+the+Phoenix+Session+8

 ** Session 8** **4/28/2016**    **The Celebration, A Princess and A Drow, and The Attack of the 5 Masked Figures**

Tiri asked to be notified if there were any changes in her brother's condition before agreeing to leave with Alaric, Charlemagne , and Alix in the dark of the night. A murmur of a crowd came from the distance in the right. As they got closer, they could hear music. Since the royal ball never occurred... some of the staff and citizens had put their own celebration together. Merry, the young halfling druidess they had met with the Wyvernspurs in the dwarven cavern underground, was standing on a box and singing with a few bards. Alaric cringed and turned back toward his companions, his back to the crowd where he recognized a woman among them, "Oh gods... hide me." Charlemagne looked inquisitively out into the crowd of party-goers, "From what, cousin? You are afraid of nothing..." "An old classmate," Alaric sighed, "At an awkward age where the girls were bigger than the boys... and she was a bit of a bully... her and her friends may have beat me up." "What did you do to provoke her?" Charlemagne raised an eyebrow at him. "I may have questioned her sexual preferences..." he averted his eyes, "But I was only 12!" The others glanced over to see Rhaine Blacksilver leaning against one of the lantern posts. An attractive blonde noble woman with a fencing sabre at her hip and a patch displaying the Blades of the Crown. A group of duelists who worked for the king. "I'm sure she's mellowed with age... You should go talk to her. Just don't mention me," Alaric nodded, "I'm sure she's made quite the name for herself, dueling." Charlemagne nodded, "Maybe I'll give her a run." "What about Urd ?" his cousin raised an eyebrow. "I was talking about the fencing... it's a bit of a light weapon... but I could work with it," the muscular warrior nodded. Tiri looked over the crowd, noting Al'Ashay with a hood up among the crowd speaking with a drow in the shadows... the same drow she had seen in the palace going down the stairs. It didn't seem anyone noticed them. "Do you remember that princess who was rumored to be sleeping with most of the court... but you said you were sure it was just rumors?" the young priestess asked. Alaric nodded to her, "Yes, I'm sure it's just rumors." "Well she's over there currently... talking with a drow that I seen in the palace," Tiri nodded in their direction. "And that means what?" Charlemagne asked. Tiri shrugged her shoulders, "Nothing... only making you aware of her presence." Alix nodded, "I'll go see what they're talking about." Tiri frowned, "Be very careful... drow see in the darkness like you see in the day." Charlemagne joined the crowd, dancing along as the circles of people drug him along. Alix stealthed closer to observe the conversation. The drow seemed agitated, "Did the Huntscrowns really deserve that? To be ex-communicated like that?" Al'Ashay shook her head, "This is not their first mistake... Their first one... by will of my sister was overlooked." "I didn't know that," the drow frowned. "Of course you didn't," the hooded princess shrugged, "It's a matter that you don't need to concern yourself with... it's been handled. The king is allowing the family to keep their estates outside of this city, but they have been banished from Suzail and they are no longer a noble family. Their estate here will be auctioned off as will all of the things in it... I want you to make sure they stay out of town. See to it that they get out." "Very well, my mistress," the drow nodded, "I will report to Lady Shadowfall and let her know." She bowed and faded into the shadows. Alaric kept an eye on Rhaine who poured a mug from the keg. Her patch showed that she had gained a new rank or two since he had last heard. He made his way over to barrels and filled his own mug, pretending not to notice her, and then used his magic to frost the mug and chill the ale. "Are you old enough to drink that now?" Rhaine's voice came from behind him, "It's been too long, Alaric." "Rhaine? Is that you?" he turned around, "I scarcely recognize you." "And I you," she nodded, "You've grown up quite a bit." "Age does catch up with us all," Alaric nodded, "I see you've added a few new rewards to your patches there. Making a name for yourself." "Only doing my crown's bidding," she answered. He nodded, "I can only imagine that with all that's going on... it's been a tense time for you and your companions." She nodded, "The open bar night was a little hectic. The young bravados were pretty quick to draw steel and there were some grievous injuries that evening... but you... tell me what you've been doing." He paused thoughtfully, "Well... after the last time you saw me, I went to the college for wizards for a time to follow in the family's footsteps... and I've organized my own company. The Company of the Phoenix." He gestured the badge he wore proudly. She nodded, "I've heard of this Company of the Phoenix. There is talk about you... the saving a noble family... what were their names? ...the Wyvernspurs, yes. Then more recently... Sebathian's best man... he is one of your company's brother, I'm told?" "Yes," Alaric nodded, "It is most unfortunate what happened." "Tragic," she agreed. Alaric nodded again, "But we have investigated these matters at the behest of certain parties." "I heard Nilyniel was pulling your strings," Rhaine nodded. "Well I didn't want to drop any names," the young sorcerer feigned modesty. "Since when?" the blonde duelist raised an eyebrow, "The once boastful Goldsword has finally matured." "It happens to the best and the worst of us," Alaric agreed, "And you... you look as though you've barely aged at all. You're still the lovely vision that I remember." "You are being fine to kind," Rhaine smiled, "As I believe the last time you were looking at me... it was from the bottom of a well." "Those were good times, weren't they?" Alaric nodded. "I hope that you will accept my apology. Those were much younger times," her cheeks blushed a slight pink. He smiled and nodded, "I would accept your apology if you'll drink with me and sit for some time so that we can speak." "I would find that most suitable," she nodded, following him over to some bales of hay where she sat down. Alaric handed her a mug of ale that he chilled with magic. "That's useful," she nodded appreciatively, accepting the mug. He sat down on the bale beside her, "I would welcome your stories from your time with the Blades. Certainly you've gotten into all kinds of interesting and dangerous situations. I'm surprised they don't have you out hunting this mysterious assassin who shot the arrow at Sebathian." She nodded, "That was our first impulse, and many of us went without being asked. We were recalled however, told to come back because they feared that too large of a presence would chase him out. He's letting Nilyniel's group handle it... which I'd guess is you and your group, as well as her mages... or so I'm told." "We haven't been asked to actually track the assassin down yet, but perhaps it is rather late and Nilyniel wanted that for the morning," he suggested. "If that's the case... I'm sorry for letting the cat out of the bag," she apologized. Alaric shook his head, "Even though it is uncommon to see one of the shao this far west... it is still like searching for a needle in a haystack." "A shao," she nodded, "So many foreigners are here now... they chose a very opportune time." "But, of course, me and my companions will do our very best," he assured her. "I have no doubt," she shook her head, "You should introduce me to them." "Of course," he nodded, "Charlemagne won the contest of blades a few days ago." "I have heard his name," she nodded, "A magic sword." "Yes, we did manage to find a fine elven blade during our rescue of the Wyvernspurs and he claimed it as his own," Alaric nodded, "He gave Lord Releque quite the beating." "Well if anyone deserves a beating," she muttered, quickly adding, "Don't get me wrong... they're a fine upstanding noble merchant family... they're just..." "A little proud," Alaric finished for her. "More than a little," she countered. "Some of us outgrow such things... some of us do not," he nodded. "You have me at a disadvantage," she smiled, "I'm still a little offended by it. Perhaps I am less mature." "Oh? And what did a Releque do to you?" he asked, "A personal sleight? I mean certainly a Releque would do well to find himself with a Blacksilver of such a high reputation." She looked disgusted at the though, "No, no... certainly his sights are far above a Blacksilver... his eyes have fallen on Ily'Aleera ." Alaric's eyes narrowed in disapproval. "Certainly he is easy on the eyes... and it's not my place... but I don't approve of the way that he speaks with her," she shook her head. "Princess Ily'Aleera can do so much better than him... I can't imagine that he can even speak with her on any sort of equal terms," the charismatic mage shook his head. Rhaine nodded, "Certainly... but unfortunately with Ily'Aleera being the financier of the country, she is obligated to speak with the merchant families... and I think he takes full advantage of that fact." Alaric sighed and nodded, "I imagine that she gets trapped into situations that she wishes she wasn't a part of... but when I met her at the party, she didn't seem to be the type to go for a..." "Merchant family?" the beautiful duelist raised an eyebrow. "Yes... a merchant family," Alaric nodded, "That's a polite way to put it." "As I said... I think she's occupationally obligated," she nodded. "Well I shall have to speak with her about it if I see her again," Alaric started. "You heard nothing from me," Rhaine quickly shook her head, interrupting him. "My lips are sealed," he agreed. "If you have grand pursuits of your own," Rhaine shook her head, "I don't want to know." "Certainly if I had such grand pursuits... I wouldn't talk about them while in the presence of such a beautiful woman such as yourself," he smiled charmingly. "Now you're laying it on thick," she folded her arms. Tiri waved in greeting to Merry who waved warmly back before the priestess stepped into the circle of dancing... Charlemagne was dancing in the circles, his happy feet kicking high as he swung to and fro with the festival goers, but Tiri's heart just wasn't in it. Her feet were slow and her swaying was to the sorrowful music playing in her head. She couldn't pull herself from the troubling thoughts of her brother and she stepped out of the dancing circles to find herself gazing over the table of drinks... She scrunched up her nose in disgust, but drank from a mug of ale anyway... it was dark, heavy, and rather bitter. Again... the drow passed her by. "I've been seeing a lot of you lately," the priestess's voice was sullen as she watched the black skinned woman walk through the shadows near to her. The drow turned to meet her eyes in surprise, "Why? Who are you? What are you doing here?" Tiri shrugged, raising her mug slightly, "Drinking ale..." The royal spy wrinkled up her nose in disgust. "I know," Tiri agreed with another casual shrug, "But it was the best available on the table." "I'm so sorry," the drow shook her head. "Me too," the blue-haired elven woman agreed with a nod, setting her mug back down on her lap. "I meant about your brother," the drow nodded. "Oh... thank you," Tiri nodded sadly, "Hence the ale." She watched the drow instinctively orbit around her to slip into the shadows by the barrels. "I'm sorry about that too," the drow nodded. "My name is Tiri'Elenae," the elven priestess nodded, "But I'm sure you already know that." "My name is Quarelle ," she nodded. "A pleasure to meet you, Quarelle," Tiri nodded, her voice still soft and sad. "It's a pleasure to meet you too," Quarelle nodded to her, "I was surprised that you and your company hadn't come to us earlier this week." "Us?" Tiri raised an eyebrow, "Who would be this 'us' that we didn't come to?" Quarelle frowned as she gazed out toward where Alix was, and shook her head, "Nevermind." Tiri raised an eyebrow, following the drow's gaze, "Were we invited to a party that I didn't know about?" "Not really a party," the young drow shook her head. "Well then at least I didn't miss out on any fun," Tiri nodded to her, taking another drink from her bitter mug. "Well I didn't say that..." the young spy smiled, shaking her head, "But I spoke to your companion weeks ago..." "Oh really?" the elven woman leaned back, looking over her archer companion out in the shadows and then returning her gaze to the drow. Quarelle nodded, "He must not have figured out the invitation." "That's a shame," Tiri shook her head, "It makes me sad and disappointed... I'm sorry that you apparently chose the wrong companion as he did not share the information with us... or at the very least not with me." "He showed all of the qualifications," the drow woman frowned. "Ah... dancing in the shadows a bit?" Tiri nodded. "Yes," Quarrelle nodded. "If you were looking for a stealthy person... then why would you have invited our whole party?" the young priestess peered over her mug with her blue eyes. "I shouldn't really be telling you any of this..." the young drow shook her head, retreating slightly deeper into the shadows, "There are interested parties in your success." "Oh... well I supposed that's nice, I guess," Tiri nodded. "It doesn't suck," Quarelle agreed. "I hadn't realized we had gotten so popular," the sullen elven woman took another drink. "It doesn't make any sense to me either," Quarelle shook her head, "Because we were given word even before the Wyvernspur incident." "Really?" Tiri arched an eyebrow over one of her crystal blue eyes, "We were barely together before that." "Exactly," the young drow woman nodded. "So who are these people who've been interested in us and our success?" Tiri tilted her head. Quarelle frowned, and reached into her cloak, tearing away a patch to hand to the young priestess. Examining the circular patch of black to find a black anvil stitched with a different cross threading of black, Tiri nodded, "A Black Anvil... interesting... is that who you belong to?" "Belong?" the drow woman shook her head, "I'm not enslaved." "No, no... that's not how I meant it," Tiri shook her head, "Belong... a member of... a part of... as I belong to the Company of the Phoenix. I assure you I'm certainly not owned either... more like companionship." "Let's go with that," Quarelle nodded, "We're the Shadowsmiths." "The Shadowsmiths. Sounds fascinating," Tiri nodded. "And I have already said too much, so I must be going," the drow woman nodded. The young priestess offered the patch back, nodding. "Keep it... you may need it," Quarelle nodded. "Alright... I'm sure I'll see you around," Tiri smiled. "Not if I work on it," the young drow woman shook her head, "And my heart goes out to your brother. He is a good man." "Thank you. I hope to be successful in his recovery," Tiri nodded her thanks. "I will pray for that," the young drow nodded and faded back into the shadows. The drow had scampered off into the shadows, and Alix was crouched near the hay bales when he heard Al'Ashay's voice come from behind him, nearly making him jump, "Did you enough of an earful of that?" Alix froze. "You've gone to great lengths to work yourself around the room... to eavesdrop on my conversation," the slender princess accused him, "Now... I know you and your company are... what do you want?" "Maybe some answers would be nice," Alix turned around to look at her. "Why do you want the Huntscrowns out of the city?" he raised an eyebrow. "Because they nearly killed 4 of my sisters... They betrayed the crown," she answered almost angrily before calming her voice, "You, yourself, nearly died if I'm not mistaken... judging by that fresh bandage still on your shoulder." "That drow you were talking to earlier..." he started. "What drow? I don't know what you're talking about," she denied the accusation easily. "Don't lie to me," he narrowed his eyes. "And I owe you the truth, why?" she raised an eyebrow. "Because if you don't," he began. She raised a casual hand to pause him, and warned, "Choose your next phrase... very... carefully." "Well... maybe some of those rumors about you could be true... and I could let them slip," he tried to threaten her. A smirk pulled at the corner of Al'Ashay's lips, "By all means... spread the rumors. Who do you think started them?" He shrugged, "Probably yourself... or maybe your father." "Really?" she raised an eyebrow, "Do you think the old man would like to get a piece of this?" She opened her cloak to reveal her very scantily clad body, "You are woefully out of your depth, young man." "I've been told that many times," he shrugged. "I don't doubt that a bit," she smiled with amusement, pausing for a moment, "The drow is an associate of mine." "An associate, eh?" he looked her over skeptically. "That's what I said," she nodded. "Well then maybe if I told you that I know something about her..." he suggested. "Let's see... what could you know?" she paused for a second before continuing, "You met her once before when you were in that dwarven hold where you saved the Wyvernspurs. She probably told you her name... and most likely extended you an invitation which you failed to arrive at. What else do you have?" "I have this," he pulled a circular black badge from his pocket with the anvil pictured in the cross threads. "Yes, the invitation," Al'Ashay nodded toward the badge. "This was the invitation? Really?" he glanced incredulously at the badge in his hand. "Hmm she must have chosen poorly," the youngest princess frowned, "I'm sure that you mean well, boy. Your company shines brightly. You have a good day. Enjoy yourself." She started to walk away. Alix mumbled with irritation, "You enjoy yourself, Princess." "I plan on it," she nodded and walked off through the crowd. Charlemagne continued to dance with the circles, working up a sweat and having a grand time. He finally stepped over to the tables to get a drink to see Tiri off by herself and Alaric sitting on a hay bale with a very attractive woman. An easy choice, the strapping young warrior took his mug to join the mage and his companion, "Cousin! Who is your friend? You haven't introduced us." Alaric nodded up to his more muscled brown-haired companion, "This is Rhaine Blacksilver. We knew each other as young classmates." "Blacksilver..." Charlemagne nodded. "It sort of rolls off of the tongue," Alaric agreed, nodding. "I bet she does," the young warrior grinned, "Charlemagne Rallyhorn at your service. Would you care to dance?" "I would very much like to dance... but only... if you show me that sword of yours," Rhaine smiled. "You want to see my sword?" a playful smile crossed his lips. "I've heard much about it," she nodded. "Oh, many women around town talk about my sword," he grinned. "I bet they do... big strapping lad like yourself," she smiled charmingly. "Watch your shins," Alaric cautioned her of his cousin's dancing skills, and added, "He shows his sword to as many women as he can." "Oh," she nodded. "I barely put my sword away... I almost always have it out," he grinned. "I think she's talking about Ashweaver," Alaric nudged him. "Oh!" Charlemagne nodded, "Sure... I could show you my sword. Why are you interested? Are you a swordsmith?" "I'm a duelist," she answered. He looked the quite beautiful woman over to see an elegant and light sabre at her hip and nodded to her, "A perfect lady's sword." He pulled Ashweaver from it's sheath, lying the blade across his arm with the hilt toward her to display it for the lovely young duelist. "It's extraordinary," she accepted, feeling the perfect weight in her hands, "It's obviously elven made... and very old. They say it called to you?" He nodded, "Yes." "It's very nice," she nodded, returning his sword to him before drawing her own to offer it, "This is quite different. Very light, but it's weight is deceiving. In the hands of the right person, it's quite deadly." "I'm sure it is... in your hands," he agreed, "Did you come in for the wedding?" "I serve the king here as one of his blades," she nodded to him. "Sounds like a good job to have," he replied. "There are worse," she agreed, "You said you were with the Phoenix Company?" He nodded and the two of them conversed for a few more minutes. She seemed straight laced and arrogant, but no more haughty than the other nobles. "I'm saving myself for someone special," he nodded. "Aren't we all?" she shrugged, "We'd all like to think that the one we find is special... so who did you have in mind? Is she here tonight?" "No... she isn't here. Well not that I've seen. I've been busy dancing... I love it so," he nodded. "So I seen," she agreed. "It's been a long evening," he nodded. "I hear that you have another long day ahead," she nodded. "Yes... there seems to be much tribulation these days," he agreed. "You guys are the hot name about town," she smiled. "People have seen us about..." he paused, his gaze falling on his blue-haired priestess companion who was swaying in her chair, "I think my friend has partaken too much." "Oh... I've never seen an elf drink that," Rhaine followed his gaze, "She's actually getting it down." "Well not for long," he shook his head, "It's going to be coming back up." "Be kind and hold her hair," the beautiful duelist agreed. Tiri was singing to herself. "You should probably go see to her," Rhaine nodded toward the priestess. Charlemagne nodded, "I'll go make her feel better and sing along with her." "You are indeed a good man," she nodded, "If you ever get some solid leads... I would offer my services to help bring those criminals to justice." "I appreciate the offer," he nodded, pleasantly surprised, "We often do need an extra hand or two." "Excellent," she nodded, "Then I look forward to the call." "It was pleasant seeing you again after all this time," Alaric nodded to her, "It brought back many memories." Charlemagne looked from his cousin to the duelist, "You'll have to tell me those stories sometimes. He doesn't talk about his past much... and he's become such a good leader for our group that I can't imagine him any other way." "He suffered at the hands of some very mean girls," Rhaine glanced back toward Alaric. "He suffered?" Charlemagne leaned closer, "Do tell, do tell!" "It's in the past and doesn't matter now," Alaric shook his head. "He has endured enough," Rhaine agreed. "Endured? Suffered? ...I like the sound of this," Charlemagne nodded, interested. "Believe me, the suffering continues," Alaric turned to Rhaine with a slight sigh. She smiled, "Not at my hands, thank goodness." She bid them a farewell, turning back, "I meant that though... should you guys get a good lead. Call upon me. I would see the Crown's will done." Charlemagne nodded, "We're glad to hear it." She nodded and took her leave.

"We should get back to the Goldsword estate," Alaric turned to his cousin and nodded toward the drunk elven priestess, "Some of us need to sleep it off." "It's such a long walk..." Tiri sighed, following them along. Alaric watched her skin turn a pale green and turned her toward Charlemagne as she vomited violently in the street. The muscled warrior caught her and drew her blue hair away from her face, holding it back in his hands as she wretched, and tried desperately to keep from being puked on or from joining her. Alaric and Alix heard a strange tapping noise on the road and looked up to see 5 figures surrounding them wearing flat black masks with sabers drawn and bucklers on their arms. "We have company," Alaric glanced back, warning his companions. "Good evening, gentlemen," Charlemagne gestured out with his arm, spraying vomit from his sleeve, "Welcome to the party." "Elegant as always," one of them responded. "Did you gentlemen come out for your sword lessons tonight?" Charlemagne nodded to them, stepping protectively in front of Tiri who was mopping herself up and still looking green. "That we have," one of them replied. "Well then... you're in luck. I just happen to be giving them away tonight for free," the brown-haired chiseled warrior drew Ashweaver from his sheath. "It's our lucky night... hear that boys?" another of them retorted with a chuckle. Alaric nodded to Charlemagne, "I'll take care of Tiri. You take care of these 5 fools." He wove a shield spell up around himself and stepped next to the priestess. Tiri prayed to Corellion and blessed her companions, boosting their morale. Alix drew his bow and pierced an arrow through one of their shoulders. Charlemagne charged forward with his blade, gashing open another's chest! Two of them teamed up around Charlemagne, both of them swinging wildly and missing the skilled warrior. One of them charged up, slashing Tiri in the back as another bounced his blade off of Alaric's shield. The last charged up, stabbing his saber through Alix's arm! Alaric turned to the one who charged him and sent fire from his hands to engulf the masked figure and slightly caught another who was attacking Alix as well. Tiri stepped forward, keeping her back to the sorcerer, and sent out a wave of warm blue energy to heal her companions' wounds. One of the masked figures slashed deeply into Charlemagne, but the other was met with the warrior's shield. Alix took a step back and shot an arrow into the now burnt figure. The man's body arched in pain, his mask glowed... and his body turned to smoke... vanishing into the night. "What kind of black magic was that?!" The stealthy archer blinked in shock, "Leave one alive! We need to know who they are." Charlemagne gashed his blade into one of the figures again taking a big chunk from his body! Alaric brought his hands up, sending out a cone of fire to burn one into ash against the wall! Tiri turned to the one continuing to slash at her and she released a sonic scream that only the figure before her could hear. The two teaming against Charlemagne each struck into him, spattering his blood! Alix shot his bow, sending two arrows wildly through the combat... one of them clattering off of Charlemagne's shield. The chiseled warrior called out the fire on his blade and struck swiftly into one of the figures who turned to ash, leaving a black inky smoke lingering in the air! Alaric stepped behind the remaining figure fighting his warrior cousin and dragon-like claws grew from his hands to slash into the figure's back! His green eyes glittered with golden flecks and became slitted for a moment. Tiri sent another powerful wave of healing energy over her companions. One of the figures swung at Alix, but the slayer dodged out of the way in the nick of time. The other slashed again into Charlemagne who was soaked in blood. Alix sent another arrow into one of the remaining figures. Charlemagne swung his fiery blade to cut the other in half, turning him into black smoke! Alaric brought his hands up to flash out another cone of fire, incinerating the last into ash. "What happened to keeping one alive?" Alix turned to his cousins. Alaric shrugged, "They had magic on them... If we took them unconscious, they turned to smoke and vanished. There was no taking one alive." Convinced by the words of the charismatic sorcerer, Alix accepted the answer and nodded. Alaric collected some of the remaining ash into a vial, "Let's get off the street before more of them come." He scoured the priestess with magic to clean her off. The group returned to the Goldsword estate where they were greeted by an enthusiastic Anuul, "Hiiii guys!!""Shhh! Tiri isn't feeling well. Try to keep it down," Alaric tried to calm the young kitsune."Oh! Okay, hi guys!" Anuul whispered loudly, still excited, but bringing her voice level down."Thanks Anuul! You're the best," Tiri smiled at her, leaning softly against the strong warrior behind her."I am the best!" Anuul whispered loudly, wagging her tail excitedly."C'mon, Alix will tell you the whole story," Alaric assured her as he slipped an arm around Tiri, guiding her up the stairs."Tomorrow," Alix nodded to his childhood friend."What?! Tell me what happened! You guys are all covered in blood and stuff!" she pleaded excitedly."It's not my blood," he assured her, walking off toward their rooms.Charlemagne headed off to his own room... and the companions settled in for the night.