Harvest of Fun and Folly

[Airo Maldorn]

Trandatum
Harvest of Fun and Folly
---The Fool's March---

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((Will of 8 + 3 of d4 roll))

The trencher sat before her empty as Airo licked the last of the sauce from the side of her hand before wiping what was left away with the napkin that sat in her lap. As she went to swing her leg over the bench, she gathered her skirts high enough to show a portion of her creamy white skin of her calf and the top of her soft green slipper before letting the soft silk skirts fall about her legs. Turning into the magic wave of warm almost inviting magic, Airo allowed the magic to wash over her and dissipate. Not really caring where the magic came from, she knew that at this festival displays of all sorts of magic were allowed and possible. Catching a passing service wench by the arm dropping a few silver coins into her hand before exiting the tent.

The bright suns light was a drastic contrast to the smokey candle lit interior of the tent. The crowd was thick, maneuvering was a little more difficult as she held on to the leather pouch that hung from her waist to deter the many pickpockets when she was pushed and jostled by people attempting to make their way through the throng. Thoroughly stuffed, the smells of different food was nauseating, but it did not deter her from making her way through the crowd.

In the distance a slow drum beat echoed through the rows of tents. Many around Airo turned their heads towards the distant beat as it picked up as it got closer. The crowd began to part as children were placed upon their parent's shoulders to get a better look. Trumpets blared as fifes, fifes and other instruments struck up a fun celebratory tune. It was not long before acrobats dressed in brilliant colors and painted faces. Tumbling and walking on their hands down the now clear thoroughfare as bards and minstrels made their music for the crowd. Spontaneous dancing erupted to Airo's left as a group of young teenaged girls joined in with a group of court entertainers after being invited. She couldn't help but smile at the sense of togetherness that seemed to fill the air.

As the last of the minstrels and bards past a group of tall, well groomed and highly disciplined Dragon Guard marched down the way carrying the crest of the Dragon prince Balian. Behind them followed the dower prince, dressed in a brilliant crimson doublet with matching trousers trimmed in golden thread and adorned with garnet buttons on a black stallion with cream stripe down its nose. Even in the most festive occasions Prince Balian could suck the fun out of the room, in this case, the Fool's March. His light brown hair shone under the light of the sun though his face seemed shadowed by some ill thought. Nearly all who were in the crowd bowed or curtsy in sincere deference to their prince. Airo swept into a deep curtsy as he passed, though she knew the rumors from his own personal guard that he was plotting to take the throne which had been brought to the attention of her beloved cousin Resvina, the Dragon Empress.

After the sour faced prince there were more acrobats, fire eaters, and many more displays of magic for the sheer entertainment value. Another great, upbeat song brought a roar of delight from the crowd as Airo slapped a small Ferdanie hand from her coin purse. "There is nothing but trouble for you there, my friend." Large brown eyes looked up at her as she motioned for him to move along. He gave a sheepish smile before slipping away to her right. Looking back to the passing parade of of fools and entertainers, she caught a glimpse of Ophelina sitting atop a grey speckled gelding. She waved and smiled at the crowd, always being the ham for attention and the crowd went wild. Though slight of stature, the saffron and grey gown she wore was perfect for her complexion of a soft cream, her glossy dark auburn hair tumbled over her shoulders and down her back. As she passed, Airo managed to catch her young cousin's eye and she waved at her a little more emphatically. Airo smiled returning the wave. Airo had a soft spot for her cousin, though she found her to be extremely naive at times. She was one of the few mages in Imperia with the magically ability to control nature on a small scale. The palace greenhouse and gardens were proof of that. If she was mad or angry the trees and plants seemed to grow as her anger grew and lash out at anyone unwittingly in the way or when she was happy, the flowers throughout the palace ground no matter the season would bloom brilliantly.

After Princess Ophelina had passed, there were more entertainment for the crowd but there were several men with large bags that hung heavy against their sides as they threw copper and silver coins on the ground as a gesture of shared prosperity. This had always been the gesture of e ruler of the Imperian people. Resvina sat upon a liter waving and tossing coin into the crowd. Her salt and pepper hair was bundled into a bun atop her head. Her regal features were softened by the smile that carried her lips. Though in her sixties and having had ruled for nearly forty-six years, she wore the burden of responsibility with a grace few in Solabren had. She was a leader who was for the people and would do anything to make sure that they were safe and able to prosper. Many Imperians looked upon her as a surrogate mother, for she did not turn away any who were in need and loved her nation as much as she loved her own progeny. All the Imperians in the crowd bowed and showed deference to their Empress. Those who did not understand what was going on pulled their hats from their heads and gave a short bow.

Once the Empress had passed, the party continued. Losing interest in the Fool's March, Airo slipped from the main thoroughfare as she knew her mother would be worried that she would not have enough time to get ready for the gala that was being held on a large pastoral piece of land hidden within the array of tents. Shaking her head, she moved quietly through the tents looking for the one with the grey eagle crest of her family's. She was not thrilled of the prospect of dealing with her mother, she steeled herself for the barrage that lay in store for her.

[Lorryn]

4 (Avg: 4.0)

(Total avg: 4.0)
(Will 6 + 4= 10) haha

************

Lorryn raised an eyebrow and watched the scene before her unfold, her lips slowly twitching into a fully amused smile by the time the cloaked figure had stopped gyrating her hips and slipped into the seat beside her, which is when her delight finally boiled over and she laughed, her heavy belly jiggling as she did. Even as she got a hold of herself and sat with her cheeks flushed from laughing and sore from the smiling, she wanted to laugh again as the man who had been looking at her in a rather suggestive way was now mooning over her new companion with a hungry look in his eye that could easily rival that of the wench now glued to her hip… and neck.

“Oh, indeed, after that performance!” Lorryn took her arm in greeting before waving another, thankfully unaffected wench over and ordered her honey mead & boar again, nodding towards Cam so the girl could get her what she wanted as well. It was obvious, at least to her, there was a connection between the sudden amorous attentions of a good number of patrons around Cam and the movement she’d done and why that particular wench seemed as unaffected by it as she was Lorryn had no idea and frankly didn’t care. She wanted her honey mead and roast boar, NOW. The squirming of her lil one confirmed the necessity of speedy service, guaranteed by the extra gold coin she slipped the girl before she ran off to fetch their orders.

“I’m Lorryn,” she replied, still smiling with amusement, even as the Knight Lieutenant apparently turned down her offer and stepped outside for the Fool’s March that drew several other patrons outside as well. Oh well, she figured, that tension wouldn’t be missed. And while the music did make her think back to when she was a child, yanking her older brother along to see the parade, she didn’t have the same interest now. Ignoring the cheers and pageantry of the procession passing by the tent, she looked over at Cam. “So was that a pattern you just ‘etched’ out or were you 'writing' something?”

Just then the wench returned with their drinks, plopping the wooden tankards down on the table with two soft thumps before turning and just barely missing running into a woman walking, rather purposefully up to Cam. The wench begged the woman’s pardon and promised to return with the plate of boar. Lorryn’s eyes drifted up to the woman as she took her mead in hand.

“That burst of magic was quite noticeable. It is a pity that I have some magic of my own.”

Lorryn grinned as she lifted the tankard to her lips for a long pull before setting it back on the table in front of her. “As many here can also claim in the Land of a Thousand Mages.” Her tone was playful, but still making a small point. She leaned back and rested an arm on her belly. “Magic is not forbidden at the Festival, and obviously it wasn’t of harmful intent,” she began, not entirely sure where the woman was taking her comment but not wanting her mood darkened by unnecessary trouble. “Otherwise I do believe the Dragon Guard’s Knight Lieutenant, whom you just missed, would have done more than give her a passing glance, wouldn’t you agree?” she asked with her lilting soft voice, a sweet smile, and sharper gaze.

[Deleted]

Even as she moved to say something, she took a second glance to the dwarf near the end of the table. Grinning saucily then, she held back comment. Redirecting her attention to the woman heavy with child before her, she nodded. “Thanks. I never have a problem with a free meal.” Smirking a little, Camilla ordered the same as the other woman. Stretching up in her seat a bit, Cam did not even dislodge the clinging wench still attached to her. As well, the man who’d had hungry eyes for the pregnant woman had walked past her and seated himself behind Camilla. His hands were utterly filthy and so he wiped them off on his shirt. Leaving nasty handprints on himself, he began massaging Camilla’s shoulders. His lips moved to her neck and ears.

The halfblood did not even seem to notice much. “It is very nice to meet you, Lorryn.” Her grin relaxed into more of a smile. As her back was to the Knight Lieutenant, she didn’t even notice the woman leave. Her posture though, had been one of disrespect. She did not always like authority figures and dealt with them only when necessary. She did try to follow the laws of cities she resided in though. People were leaving to attend the march and the woman felt no need to follow, happy enough with the present company and attention she was privy too. When asked about her particular dance, she rested one elbow on the table and cupped her chin in one upstretched hand. “How to answer that question, I wonder.” Long fingers drumming lightly against her cheek, she wondered how to reply. Up close, her red slit eyes had taken a dramatic turn. The sclera was red, not white…and her pupils were yellow vertical slits. She was quiet for a while, blinking a little as a tankard was plopped down in front of her.

“We could say it was a message from…” She paused for a moment, as if trying to find the right word. “From a friend. A very old friend.” Her expression was a bit shuttered now, as if mentioning it caused her a deal of pain. “Whatever the message might have meant.” The man’s hands crawled across her cloth covered flesh, kneading the muscles of her upper arms now. Straightening up and shrugging mightily, Camilla lifted the tankard and took a swallow. Her two clinger-ons adjusted their movements to match hers. The wench now seemed to be as fascinated with Cam’s musculature as the man.

Their hands had touched more than a few times as they felt around Camilla’s upper body. Feeling a tap on her shoulder, Camilla turned her head a little. Her free pointed ear twitched a bit and she grinned up at the person who had touched her on the shoulder. “I am well aware, madam.” She winked. “Why as soon as you stepped in the room, I could see no one else.” Waiting a beat, Camilla grinned. “Interested? I have a spot on me free…somewhere.” Somewhere, a third person had seemingly attached themselves to her right side. This one, another man, was finding himself running his hands over her muscled legs, rubbing them as if to ease any ache she might have.

Crossing her legs at the ankles, Camilla yawned mightily and showed off an impressive array of sharp teeth. To anyone, she was displaying all the qualities of a lackadaisy person She listened to her new companion for the time being as she ticked off points about magic not being forbidden. Granted, what the halfblood had released had been potent, her enchantment did not do harm…at least not normally. In fact, her “little dance” had saved her more times in the past year than she cared to admit. “True. I’m sure if I were in the wrong that Knight would have strapped me down and punished me.” Her features had slacked a bit and it was uncertain if she was joking or not. “Punished me like the big, bad girl I am.” Shrugging lightly, she nodded to Lorryn’s belly. She seemed to be thinking about something, her attention waning even as her now three human ‘friends’ moved to openly fondling her.

A nip to the tip of her ear dragged her back to the present. “Uhh…” Her voice had dropped a little and clearing her throat, she continued with her train of thought. “I wish you the best with the new child.” Her smile now was a bit wistful. “I was never around much with my own…” Which was true. Despite not wanting to become a part time traveling musician, she had achieved that feat as well as a host of other bad things. Of course, the fear of impending parenthood also had made her run…more times than she cared to admit. “I did bump into one of them recently though and hope he’s well.” It had been more than a year but that was better than nothing.

The other tavern wench brought over their food and as she set the plates down, Camilla lifted her tankard as if to make a toast. “To Jericho! May my son find his little worm wiggling for years to come!” With that pronouncement, she grinned and took another deep swallow from the tankard. The man really was her pride and joy, even if he hated her utterly. If she was honest with herself, she had not left a good first or second impression.

[Deleted]

Will Roll:

Roll 1d4+6:
3, +6 = 9. Crap. My first post and Renir gets seduced. LMAO.


The Ferdanie's spoon clatters against the wooden bowl of boar meat stew, shifting to the side when her wrist bumps it, her fingers plucking out a piece of boar meat. Chewing on the tough meat she looks around the festival with a cheerful air, her eyes stopping on the heavily pregnant woman as she waddles to her bench before losing interest. She turns her eyes to the bards, spotting the Maiar symbol tattooed to their wrists. Her brown eyes light up as she wanders over to them, plopping down closer. Swallowing the rest of her meat she looks up at them with a smile. "Could you play the official ballad sung at the Shrines to Maiar? I do like hearing that one."

She drops four coppers in the collection bowl at the feet of the Bards before looking back up at them expectantly, an attempt at a charming smile curling her lips, A rolled and weed stuffed piece of paper stuck in one corner of her mouth, a stream of smoke drifting up over her head. She slips the roll between two fingers, tapping the ashes out onto the ground before placing it back where it belongs; in the corner of her mouth.

She turns her head towards the commotion surrounding the tall woman, her breath catching in the middle of a puff as she finally acknowledges the situation just when the Bards start playing. After placing her stew to the side she gets up, wandering over to Camilla, stopping right in front of her. She folds her arms and smiles at her, the roll of weed dropping to the ground as she speaks.

"Got room for one more?"

[Deleted]

Alric's contemplation of the various backsides around him was interrupted by aa wave of familiar magic. No, he thought desperately, It can't be. He slowly turned his head towards the source and cursed under his breath. Camilla Desdemona Eldosia was standing less than a handful of yards away from him. Oh shit! She hasn't noticed me. She hasn't noticed me. He mechanically lifted his empty mug to his lips and cursed at the lack of anything to calm his nerves. He began to rise, Maybe i should- He caught Camilla's eye, Yeah I'm getting the hell out of here! He ran for the door as fast as he could, the proprietors upon seeing this gave encouragement with a rousing chorus of, "Stop thief!" This of course was ignored by the dwarf.

Really now, has any thief in the history of ever actually stopped when someones shouted that? If anything they just try harder to get away. He pondered as he slid under the outstretched arms of a drunken patron, Oh it seems a bit counterproductive... but then again, Throwing off the hands that snagged his collar, it does have this effect on people, maybe thats the point. He threw a bag of silver coins into the crowd, inadvertently striking a proprietor in the face with the bag, and shot out of the tent like a bat out of a cave. He felt a laugh bubbling up in his chest, Its gonna be one of those days.He cackled wildly as he shot down the street followed by a small angry mob.

[Deleted]

Ignisa raised her eyebrows delicately at the woman's suggestion. "I'm sorry, but you're not exactly to my ... tastes. Nonetheless," Ignisa glanced over at the other pregnant woman. "do not worry, I was just making a comment. I won't be doing anything ... rash. And besides, the Lieutenant didn't even glance in her direction. I moved past her as she walked out." Patting the woman carelessly on the shoulder, she moved away out into the bright sunlight again, swaying around a few drunken men who were threatening to reach out and grab any passing woman who they had taken a fancy, and dodging their outstretched hands, giving them a few slaps on the arm for good measure.

Shaking her head at the folly of the Imperian humans, Ignisa made her way out of the tavern and glided down the street with as much grace as she could muster whilst weaving through the crowd - not an easy thing to do when the entire street, indeed the entire city, was crowded and full of people dancing, laughing, and basically enjoying themselves. As she sat on the edge of a fountain, Ignisa watched as a procession made its way down the city, causing people to move aside, bowing. As it neared them, Ignisa saw the Empress of Imperia, the Lady Resvina, seated on a sedan chair, throwing coins of gold and silver into the crowd.

The crowd bowed low, and Ignisa followed suit with a curtsy, paying her respects to one who had dedicated her life to her own country.

As the procession moved along, Ignisa smiled as she played with the water in the fountain, causing it to take on a variety of shapes and streams to the delight of the children watching. Some even tried to chase the streamers of water as they danced about the fountain. Laughing along with the children, Ignisa splashed them as they splashed her, taking joy in the presence of each other.

[Airo Maldorn]

Trandatum
Harvest of Fun and Folly
Early Evening

First of the twin suns dipped below the horizon as the first lanterns bobbed into the sky. Large, bulbous paper balls with a small fae fire lit within then tethered by thin ropes to the posts of tents providing light in the encroaching darkness. Airo stood, leaning against a tether post a few feet from her family's tent. Parts of the tent flaps that had not been tied down securely or had broken free of their moorings folded and flailed about as if they were sails aboard a ship in the middle if a squall. An irritatingly high pitched voice roared with unearthly anger as the nearby fae fire lanterns burst into flames and fell to the ground as the paper was consumed. Apparently, she had arrived in time to watch the fireworks of her mother's explosive temper, at this point a most literal sense.

Since a very young age, Airo had learned to steer clear of her mother when she went on a war rampage in the home or pretty much anywhere her mother was. The Countess Maldorn appeared to be a meek woman with mousy brown hair and a pair of glacial blue eyes that could carry a stare so intense it was as she was looking right through a person. Even with her small stature she was a powerhouse in a verbal argument that was punctuated with a lack of control over her own magic. In the past few years though, her mother's temper flares were becoming more frequent. Normally her mother targeted her because she wanted her daughter to be a demure, obedient daughter who followed her brother's wives in giving her grandchildren to spoil but now, it looks like she has started to go after one of her daughter in laws.

"What do you mean she did not get into the Beligard school?" the shrill voice inquired as Airo ducked her head just enough to enter the tent door only to have to duck even farther as a brazier, filled with fire oil approached her at maximum velocity. Rolling away from the hot oil and flame, she rose to her feet. Members of the household staff were hiding behind any and all solid furniture they could find while her two of her older brothers, Uthan and Marcon stood by her father taking wine from a decanter and talking quietly among themselves.

Uthan, thirty-eight had gained a great deal about his midsection since the last time she had seen him. He had their mother's mousey hair but a set of rather dull green eyes that seemed to carry a lazy gaze. Many people who met Uthan thought him dim witted and on more than one occasion simple. However, looks and actions deceive, because despite his dopey appearance and his slow to react wit, he was the best at court when it came to playing the intrigue game. Among his family, he was an obnoxious twat that Airo loved to get under his skin and usually that only took a look in his general direction.

Lord Admiral Marcon, jack ass especiale, still attached to mother's tit and husband to the poor woman that was in the process of the verbal berating by their mother. At forty-three, he was the eldest of Airo's brothers. His black hair had started to pepper itself with grays and white while the rest of his squared features remained youthful and firm. Airo knew her brother to be vain and not above using magic to keep his youthful appearance and vigor. His wife, Mishalle, was considered the beauty of the court five years before she married her third husband after being widowed twice before. There was a rumor that her brother had paid someone to make a hunting accident happen since he had already bedded Mishalle and wanted her for his own. After they were wed, she became pregnant and gave birth to the first of four children, a fifth one was on the way, however, her once slender figure, and delicate, yet beautiful features have been ruined by each pregnancy and the stress brought down by her mother-in-law.

With her head down and her chin tucked into her chest, the scarlet haired Mishalle shook visibly as uncontrollable sobs wracked her body as she gave her apology. The Countess was throwing a fit over her granddaughter not getting into one of the best schools for a young mage with strong ties to the elemental school of magic. Ashaveillyan's voice rose even into higher octaves that Airo cringed as she attempted to slip through the tent to the passage that connected the reception area to the portion that was allotted for dressing. Just as she was nearly to the safety of the dressing area, the shrill, accusatory voice screeched behind her.

"You're late!" her mother crowed, crossing her arms after giving Mishalle a dismissive and somewhat degrading wave of her hand. "So what excuse is it now?"

"Actually, mother, I was caught in the crowd for the Fool's March. Cousin Resvina looked absolutely radiant." Airo said without much fear or care of the reprisal. Hell, it had been so often that her mother started in on her for one reason or another, she didn't care too much about the verbal beatings she took. Turning to face the open flap between the dressing area, she walked away without so much as giving her mother a second thought even when her father urged her mother to take the medicine the priests of Guinar had prescribed to keep her magic from flaring with her emotions an ailment most common with the older elemental mages. Even so, her mother seemed more argumentative and belligerent than normal.

Moving into the dressing area, Airo called out to her handmaid. "Eshan? Did you bring the black and gold brocade from the dressmaker?"

"Yes, milady." A short woman with a heart shaped face appeared from behind the dressing screen with the kirtle of her mistress's dress in her arms before laying it out across a low daybed that had been set up for any episodes of swooning that may happen, specifically after the gala where excitement had a tendency to make those who did the latest courtly fashions with girdles too tight had issues with breathing and fainted.

"How long did this episode go on with my lady mother?" Airo inquired slipping behind the dressing screen while Eshan busied herself with setting out the different components of the dress she would help her mistress in. Shaking her head, Eshan made a sign significant to Ishana to forgive her for speaking ill of her employer's mother.

"Since the noon day meal. Lord Kameryn had to leave with his wife and the new babe before the braziers' started to fly. If you don't mind me saying, Madame, your mother is worse than a Gorklin with its nether regions on fire." Eshan stated as she began bushing the velvet brocade with vigor. Airo peaked over the folded mother of pearl inlaid divide with scenes from the another of the elven tales she had grown to love, the creation of the elves. Standing on her tiptoes as she slipped out of her dress of soft green and yellow silk leaving a simple linen shift underneath. Stepping out from behiNd the dressing screen, Airo stood patiently as Eshan went about the business of addressing the layers of the gown her mistress had chosen.

"I think that's a record," Airo snickered as the kirtle was wrapped about her waist before the outer skirt and then the bodice that needed lacing. "Or was it the Mid-Winter Solstice Ball and Ophelina's fourteenth birthday two years ago." Eshan paused in the middle of lacing the back of the black and gold bodice as she thought.

"No Madame, according to the kitchen staff and the body servant of your father; the disaster she left in the dinning room took nearly a month to repair." Eshan stated bluntly as she continued to lace and tighten the bodice about Airo's torso causing her to grunt as the air was pushed from her lungs. Gasping a little, she released two buttons at the top of the bodice to help her breathe a little easier as well as the relieve the pressure of the ample bosom. Turning around to face her handmaid, Airo gave a smile as the fabric swished about her legs. Eshan brought a small stand mirror for her to see how she appeared before she entered the main room of the tent.

"The Countess will not be joining us tonight." Her father spoke with a footman as Airo re-entered the main chamber of the tent. His dark hair looked as though it had grown a brighter shade of white in the past few months. "Make sure she is comfortable, the draft she took has caused her to sleep."

Airo paused a few feet away from her father, "The Olax acting up again." Nethan offered his arm to his daughter and proceeded to escort his pride and joy out of the tent. He patted her arm with his free hand in confirmation.

"Let us not dwell on the inevitable and try to enjoy the pleasant fiction the night's events have in store for us."

[Lorryn]

Cam’s eyes certainly weren’t what she expected now that she saw her up close, but then when she thought of it, they rather suited her, given everything else about her, wings and all. It was in those eyes that she saw she must have struck a nerve, for it was though a shutter had been drawn over a window. Whatever the message had been, Lorryn felt sure Cam knew it, but had her reasons for acting as though she didn’t, so she let the subject die there.

Inviting Cam to join her was proving more and more to have been a very good idea indeed. The entertainment value alone was well worth however much she might indulge that evening at Lorryn’s expense. With the drinks delivered and her enjoying a long pull from her own tankard, she giggled into the wooden cup as Cam made the woman who’d approached her an offer. The winged woman had balls; she’d give her that. But the woman simply brushed it off and went about her way. It wasn’t until she was gone from the tent that Lorryn shook her head. “Alright, that was interesting….”

It was laced with sarcasm and just as quickly as the comment came, she had changed her focus to looking for that wench with her boar when a very familiar Ferdanie suddenly came up and headed straight for Cam. “Oh Gods, you too?” She laughed then, thoroughly amused, her belly jiggling as her cheeks colored and her eyes slightly watered. “I’m not sure she has room, but don’t let me stop you!” Lorryn seriously wondered how Cam was going to deal with all this attention; the poor woman was practically covered in admirers. A few more and Lorryn would lose sight of her!

“Oh,” she asked, genuinely surprised at the pronouncement, “How many do you have?” Cam didn’t exactly seem the ‘motherly’ type, and while it might not be particularly fair of her to make such an assessment, it was hard not to. “And thank you, this is my second,” she offered, absently giving her belly a gentle rub. She was about to inquire after this son, that much obvious by her choice of words, when the wench finally returned with the roast boar, Lorryn’s ravenous appetite easily redirecting her focus to the juicy portion laid out in a trencher before her. Lorryn smiled and plucked off a bite as another trencher was placed in front of Cam. After that first succulent taste, she lifted her tankard to her lips as Cam did the same and began to drink…

And promptly choked on the strong liquid at Cam’s words.

Sputtering into the tankard as she tried to lean somewhat forward, not wanting to dribble down her chin, coughing once it was safe to lower the tankard and her eyes fell on her guest. “J… Jericho?” she managed to get out as she had one more cough hit her. Lorryn recalled how she’d compared the woman’s height to Jericho’s as she approached, but surely she spoke of another Jericho. Her Jericho’s mother had been a Winterborn woman, Andora if she remembered correctly. “Not Jericho Almados?” she asked quickly, the hand on her belly giving away just why she was wanting clarification.

[Deleted]

Instead of seeming to be affected by the rebuff, Camilla merely grinned as her advances were rejected. “My dear, you have no idea if I am to your tastes. You might fit mine though.” Winking, she glanced away…immediately dismissing the woman. It was so strange. Camilla seemed to have a problem with her attention span…or was that her intention? To appear disinterested to garner attention. Granted, rotating her hips in invitation and spelling the word to activate her codpiece had been attention-grabbing enough. The fiend was nearly drowning in affection on a regular basis, be it by magical means or no.

Right now, she was seated and being fed a free meal while her three new ‘friends’ stroked and massaged the bits of her skin they could reach. Pulling of her cloak, one of her helpers scrambled to catch the garment, draping it over themself before resuming the massage of her back. A laugh rumbled in her chest, given voice after a few moments. Amusement lit her eyes. Hearing another voice address her, she glanced away from the table.

And looked down. Is this a child…?! Was the first question her bewildered mind asked. She had never thought the codpiece would work on someone so young. Even the fiend had limits and that was definitely one of them though. Wait…a child with breasts? No…that doesn’t make sense at all. Folding her arms, she lightly stroked her chin. Two of the people around her were on their knees, rubbing her shoulders and neck. They quickly adjusted to her change of position.

Curiosity piqued, she carefully looked over the new person who had walked towards her. Something was perched in one corner of her mouth, perhaps a smoking herb. She was sure that this was a woman, albeit a very small one. Grinning with fascination and intrigue flush in her, the tall woman nodded. Her wings twitched a little, the man at her back now massaging the joints in them. “Well…” She began, addressing the Ferdanie. “I would not wish to be rude. I’m sure I have space on my other leg.” The limb in question straightened up a bit, the booted foot tapping lightly. As if ordered, the person rubbing her right leg moved out of the way to allow the Ferdanie access to the left leg.

She moved again, her hanger-ons moving as one. It was almost eerie a sight, but for someone like her…it could almost seem commonplace. Glancing to Lorryn, the tall woman nodded faintly. “Yes. There are four that I know of.” The statement would likely raise alarm bells, especially her uncertainty. “My youngest is two years of age now.” She had squinted a bit as she spoke, as if trying to correctly remember. Grinning, she had returned to her drink. Of course, after her little toast, the heavily pregnant seemed to choke a bit on her drink. Should she pat the woman on the back? Dark brows furrowed as Camilla cast a worried gaze.

“Yes…Lorryn…” She drew her answer out, wondering what exactly the pregnant woman was getting at. Her attention was drawn to where Lorryn’s hand was resting, comprehension lighting in her eyes. She actually seemed to pale just a tiny bit, feeling a tiny pang. Was that longing in her eyes…or sorrow? “Yes. His name is Almados…my… My my my.” Good thing I did not try to bed her. She seemed to sober up considerably, but then that old saucy grin flit across her features. The tips of her high cheekbones actually blushed, as if she were privy to some private joke. “You’ll have to pardon me, but you’ve surprised me there.” Taking another swallow of her ale, an idea coming to mind then, she grinned. She was going to have to congratulate him…somehow. She was pretty sure her idea of a celebratory gift would be met with some offense, but she would have to try. Her muscled shoulders had actually tensed, evidenced by the attention of the tavern wench still tending to her.

“My dear, Lorryn…You may have known of his mother, but I am his father.” Her expression was dead serious. “Father in every sense of the word, though I’m sure the idea of that causes his daymares. He’s much like my daughter, Nienna. She looks completely human. She’s older than him though.” Her gaze kept straying to that swollen belly in front of her. “My grandchild…” Her nape kept rising and falling, the skin on the back of her neck twitching from more than the attention of the human at her back. “Of course I have been around for quite a while. I’m likely old enough to be his grandfather.” Noticing that her tankard was low, she turned her head towards the wench who had served them their meals. “More ale!” Under her breath, she muttered. “I am not drunk enough…” She downed the rest of the contents of the tankard and nearly cheered as the wench immediately came to refill the tankard.

“Oh, Jericho my boy!” She grinned widely, the sharp teeth in her mouth visible. Glancing to the tent overhead, she hefted her tankard again. Her voice as she spoke was more of a lilting tone. She was singing. “With blood raining down from an angry sky, bodies flying past by the by and by. Forms struggling and dragging him through the unknown, his cock rages on! HIS COCK RAGES ON!” The bawdy song was followed by a deep swallow. The fineness she held earlier seemed to be failing her a bit. “I’m going to be a grandfather…” She muttered before burying herself in the ale.

Face first. She seemed to be breathing easily enough and was actually drinking if the sounds were any indication.

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Renir first bends down to pick up the smoking roll of herb, brushing it off and placing it back in her mouth, before she waves at Lorryn while settling down on Camilla's knee. "Hello again Lorryn. I saw you from over by those Bards. I was more interested in hearing a song though." She puffs on the roll of foul smelling herbs while looking up at Camilla, adoration on her face. "I'm Renir, by the way. It's nice to meet you." She reaches over to pluck a piece of the boar meat out of the bowl in front of her, chewing on it as her stomach grumbles. "So who's this Jericho?" She looks from Camilla to Lorryn, picking up on the discomfort coming from Camilla, her left hand rubbing small circles on Camilla's left thigh. Blinking slowly, she listens to Camilla burst into song and then slurp up the ale in her mug. A small circle on her left ring finger is noticably lighter in shade than the rest of her already pale hands, one might assume that a ring used to be there.