The Land Of Rayneth

The week had been long and hard, but at long last the Festival of the Earth Titan had arrived. A sunny day of mild temperature set the perfect scene, with a few breezes to keep the air cooled. Guards and inquisitors stood watch over the roped-off ceremonial ground-- a clearing not far from the city gate-- which had been prepared for a wilderness feast- canvasses were laid out, strewn with dishes of food and kegs of ale, and no stools nor chairs were provided to sit upon. Piles of rocks, the size of men, were positioned around the clearing (quite possibly for the future game of dodge-rock). Entertainment had settled near the river, quiet in the moment. At the fore of the clearing, where guests would enter, was a familiar inquisitor- the same one who took the tributes at every event. He was prepared with scroll to take the names of the comers.

Urgoth was an early arrival with Maydril at his side, given that now perhaps it was more propper that he turn up to these events. However the templar had not regained his kind and joyful nature since the recent events and seemed to have a fairly stony expression set upon his face. As he arrived at the desk he nodded to the Inquisitor "Titans blessings" he growled and produced a wooden carving from his side to place it down on the table, a carving of a man holding a crossbow. It wasn't incredible, but it obviously had some personal value for the Master Templar to have offered it. He did not give his name, as it was not needed and stepped forwards, turning and waiting for Maydril to make her own offering.

Maydril seemed to be quick on Urgoth's heels. The look on her face was looser than usual - a contrast to Urgoth, and maybe even the two had switched places in expressions - her lips had the very, very tiny hint of a smile, but also nervousness. Upon finding herself before the Inquisitor come her turn, she slowly removed a carved, bone hunting horn from her neck, the ends capped in silver - it was used, gashed, though cleaned up. The item itself seemed quite old - possibly centuries. It was handed over with a catch in her throat, glancing over to Urgoth for support briefly.

Ravoul Devacartes wasn't sure how to feel about this whole festival thing yet. Still being rather fresh in town, Rayneth's new apothecary was not used to such festivals and events. Still, he decided he may as well poke his head in and stay for even just a little while to get some knowledge. And so there he was, in line, watching everyone give their tributes. Good thing he'd heard of that before hand. As it was his turn, he set in front of the Inquisitor his tribute; a stone-carved statue of a woman, and thin living flowers and vines wrapping around it.

Maydril gave her name once asked - "Maydril." - It might be noticed that she dropped her title, at least for now. Once let past, her feet really could not carry her fast enough, the few paces to Urgoth's side. "That.. was hard." Mumbled very softly so that only Urgoth might hear. She'd seem antsy to move away.

Urgoth looked towards Maydril and gave a firm, supportive nod as if to reassure her that it was alright, though unlike him he did not offer a smile, though his eyes shone as if he were proud. As she joined his side he turned to walk further into the area to stand where he could see all that was going on, hand on the hilt of his sword "It is always hard to let go." he said and looked off in the direction of the barracks, losing his train of thought for a moment "But joo are taking a big step today, and the earth titan will see this."

Emmerich: The day was plenty warm, which would make the Viscount's unusual dress stand out peculiarly like it always did. Today he did not come in ceremonial armour - had he even gotten that fixed since the last festival - and instead the fashionably early foreigner had himself layered as if it were winter. The Frenchdevil went without his usual red jerkin, and instead appeared striding toward the clearing in a leather vest and breeches, a thick black bearskin cloak over his left shoulder. In Emmerich's right arm he carried a sealed clay pot. It was just as plain and brown as the outfit he'd chosen to wear that day, with no decoration. Martinus brought his tribute to the table, and flashed a smile to the Grand Inquisitor as he set the earthen jar down. "Bon jour, Mauricio." he rumbled and pleasantly dipped his head. "For the Titan, le vicomte d'Asyle brings earth, and his left hand. I hope that is satisfactory as I can not stay long."

Aharon ben Elazar: Next in line came the Teuton - newcomer, and one of two reputed survivors of a recent bear attack. He was clothed in his most festive black and green, the hulking shapeless 'assistant' conspicuously, and perhaps wisely, absent, for the moment. He moved with a cautious air. Around his shoulders was draped a bearskin; a bear's paw was withdrawn from the pack he had carried. Both items were carefully cleaned, repaired and prepared, and both were politely and respectfully passed as tribute to the waiting Inquisitor.

Maydril had been around Urgoth for probably long enough during this upset in his life that she'd catch on to the look in his eyes. The woman walked with him, standing by his side, making an effort to harden her face to its usual look. Swollowing hard at his words, glancing up at him - the effort for hardened features broken. A soft smile creeped across her face, and he'd feel the brief touch of her hand to his arm, before it was gone, along with the smile. Her gaze cast about, soon taken to watching the new arrivals, face hardening to its dour look at Emmerich, slight confusion in her eyes.

Fashionably punctual, as he always is, the tall and haughty Duke, Kortril of Falmarimm. Quiet and regal as ever, and as ever unsettling, he slowly walks over to the Inquisitor's table and places on it a small pouch. When opened, a small, black, somewhat translucent bead rolls out. The strange elf nods at the ermine, and without offering more than passing glance to anyone else, enters the festival premises.

Twerkly Harding soon arrived on the scene pushing his cart out in front of him. The man seemed to be grinning his widest grin seen in public to date, and it made his face seem to small for his mouth. His clothes were as festive as one could expect of a hobo, and he delivered a wrapped package to the Inquisitor in complete silence, only tipping his worn tudor hat in greetings. After that, the man went back to his cart and manned it as usual, waiting for people to come by.

Blynde: An unusual attendee to the festival, not having been seen at one before now. He was typically invisible to the passerby, but perhaps those of the temple flock would recognize the vagrant that often sat outside peddling. A blind man did not navigate particularly well in crowds, but the slow movement of the line to the table was easy enough followed with the aid of his stick, the vibrations of the ground, the voices feeding him information at every turn. When he eventually reached the table and The Inquisitor, slender too-long fingers quietly set down - a rock. An incredibly polished and worn rock that had been worried down to a fine and slightly rounded oval of solid white. "A piece of this world filled with a lifetime of memories that I now return to the Mother-Father."

Urgoth glanced sideways at May at the touch and tried to offer a smile in return but his mouth merely twitched. "I haven't been to one of these since i arrived here. The last festival i did attend but very briefly...i arrived directly to it after my trials." he explained to her quietly, though anyone here who'd attended that festival would know anyway. He smiled at his memory of the fire titans festival "Greene brought me back a cake for the first one that happened after i arrived, turned me into a woman for five days..."

Gibbit, who lived in the forest increasingly close to the walls of Rayneth had overheard the sounds of the festival and had followed them to the border of the trees, climbing up until he had a good view over it all. "woahh" he breathed and watched for a while. He could see gifts being given upon entrance...some of them looked kind of lame. There was Blynde! ...wow his gift was really lame! Gibbit quickly slid down out of the tree, not caring that he splintered his thighs a little before running off back into the forest like a kid on a mission.

Maydril turned her eyes away from Emmerich as he was allowed to pass, the look on her face troubled. Her attention was returned to Urgoth, perhaps to ignore such odd happenings. Glancing around at the canvas holding food as the templar spoke. She caught the name of Greene, and attention fully snapped back. The thought of him as a woman brought a twitch of a smirk to her lips, but the signifigance wasn't lost on her. "Were your looks much improved?"

Ravoul Devacartes had just kind of...meandered off to the side for now and taken a seat on the ground, watching the others coming in. The cart of...stuff, was interesting, but he did not move away at all from his seat. Rather, he preferred to be solidly affixed to it. People. Hrm. Ravoul wasn't the most social of sorts, unless it had to do with business, and well...this didn't. But it would be better to at least come and be able to tell his customers he was indeed at the festival! It'd help build up some trust and comfort. So for now, he just...stalked, and stared at everybody with his one eye.

Twerkly Harding could be seen pondering and fiddling with stuff around his cart. The contraption on the cart bellowed out some smoke and steam, which strangely enough smelled absolutely delicious. It was almost as if he was roasting some boar in there. Soon after , he produced a big shiny brass plate from somewhere in the cart and filled it all up with nice steamy balls of what could only be his famed(infamous!?) mystery meat. Another sign had also been hung on the cart. "Free samples." it read in a script that was way too neat to have been made by a hobo.


Urgoth let out a rough laugh "Are joo kidding me? I was the most attractive lady i ever saw" he said with rumbling amusement, the coldness seemed to fade for a moment, but then he caught sight of Emmerich and peered curiously after the man, as if he didn't recognise him but wasnt sure if maybe he did, actually. Head turned back to Maydril "It was an interesting experience, to say the least."

Aharon ben Elazar: Harding's contraption, of course, couldn't go ignored by the butcher any longer, and soon Arron had found himself meandering nearer and nearer to the hobo's area, our of sheer curiosity.

Maydril seemed to be a rollercoaster of emotion this day, trying to keep them at bay, but, as usual around the orc, it was impossible. Lips were soft and not in the usual hard line at this point, twitching into small smiles that were fought relentlessly. "Even more attractive than I, one of the fair folk?" Her teeth, slightly sharp, were seen in the flash of a grin - and perhaps Urgoth might catch her sarcasm in calling herself fair. She didn't need to follow his gaze to know who he stared at. "Interesting? I should hope it might have been the best. Quite the gift." Was she being sarcastic at this point? Eyes continued to travel over the early crowd, perhaps lingering uncomfortably long on some, such as Twerkly.

Urgoth smirked "Are joo crazy? of course i was prettier than joo, it was the chest hair that did it" he said to May with no air of seriousness about him, letting out a few laughs before it fell away again. It had been short lived and the Orc was watching the crowd harshly once more.

Maydril seemed to turn into a statue beside Urgoth as he went to his harsh looks once more, after sharing their chuckle. They were a good mirror of eachother, her own hand resting on the hilt of longsword, occasionally budging the weapon toward one person or another, listening to the soft, muffled purrs it gave in response.

Kortril. Though hardly a part of the action, the Duke in black is still present and is unlikely to go away any time soon - even though some would probably prefer it if he did. Leaning against a nearby tree, enjoying the shade, he watches the festival with a completely neutral expression.

Morgue--No one would have been expecting Morgue to arrive, perhaps. But he did. Maybe almost unrecogniseable as he arrived. His hair was well kept and he wore a pair of shoes, some hide pants and a white shirt that were all very plain but smart on him nonetheless. His neck had a new scar on it, a burn it seemed in a circular shape. He stopped by the desk and produced some kind of weird necklace made of twine and the teeth of animals. It was given to the desk with the name "Morgue" stiffly offered before he moved on, unhindered by his blindness. The man stood still in the area for a while, turning his head side to side as if he were genuinely looking around until he saw the Duke, Kortril. He started making his way slowly towards the man in the shade with an odd smile.

Ravoul Devacartes had seen all he wanted to see. The stranger people were starting to come, and he certainly didn't want to be involved in the game of rockdodge, or whatever they were calling it. He got to his feet, after eating some of the food of course, and made his way as subtly as possible out of the festival. That was quite enough for one day. Festivals.";

Aharon ben Elazar: Arron grinned and plucked a meatball from Twerkly's tray, looking around in a theatrical pantomime of nerves - though he'd felt the dark elf's eyes on him as she'd surveyed the early-comers. His awkward eye-contact did not last long, and he quickly turned back to the hobo. "I would not be a good man of business if I did not ask several questions first. Or one, rather - what am I about to sample?"

Gibbit's slapping feet could be heard from a mile off as the boy ran as fast as he could back towards the festival, panting loudly for breath. As he burst out of the cover of the trees, one could see that he was brandishing a young buck's antler in one hand and as he skidded to a halt at the table he put the antler on the top of it breathlessly and bounced wildly on his heels as if he was excited to attend a festival, a real festival! "D-does that co-count? i hunteded it myself- is that all i need to do?" he rambled off a list of questions to the poor Inquisitor.

Twerkly Harding put his hands together as Aharon choose a mystery meatball . The man received quite the puzzled look from Twerkly as the question was asked "A wonder of science." was the only reply Twerkly offered before pointing up at the sign above the cart. "It's completely safe..." he nervously fiddled with his goggles before quietly adding "...most of the time."

Maydril would bristle slightly as Arron returned her stare, even if not for long. Staring harder at him, marking his face. The gaze switched to follow Morgue, at this point after briefly locking onto Blynde - if she'd seen him before, she would forever look surprised -, following the unknown-banshee. It raced ahead of him, then, along his projected path, locking on to Kortril now. The darkelf was quite the anti social one, and this was perhaps her first time seeing many of the people here. Kort recieved the open staring, perhaps even more intensely than anyone else to date. She'd been taught of many of the surface elf breeds - this one, too, but this was the first such specimen she'd ever seen.

Blynde: If his offering was deemed acceptable and he was allowed to move on - asking for a name would lead to a pause and then an answer of 'Blynde' - then the vagrant would make his way carefully through the crowds until reaching the riverside. It was there he would lower himself into a crosslegged sitting position once an acceptable patch of grass was found under his bare feet. With hood up and head lowered, staff across knees, he listened to the festival without indication of any direction of focus.

Kortril's stare meets Maydril's for a moment - unblinking. Other matters get his attention soon enough, though - such as Morgue, who approaches him and is regarded with a slightly raised eyebrow. "Your presence here is unexpected, brother.", the elf says in but a whisper, to make sure no one but the banshee hears him.

Aharon ben Elazar: "Science, yes?"Arron caught the last part - but he only tilted his head; regarded Twerkly with his odd stare."I will take 'most of the time!'" And with that, the mystery meatball was gone!

Urgoth too was watching the surroundings but with less emotion or response given away in his expression. The orc glanced down at Maydril and let out a grunt "Joo should relax, at least joor expression. Don't let anyone think joo are on edge." he murmured quietly to her.

Morgue bowed his head as he stood facing Kortril "I did not expect to be here, either" the smile seemed forced, but now seemed a little more genuine "It is good to see you. I have been given an opportunity." he said and tilted his head away from Kortril to show the burn on his neck, a circle with a drakes head at the center.

Gibbit gave his name to the inquisitor "Gib....bit, that's how you spell it, Gib, it." apparently not an educated kid, well obviously! The boy ran off towards Blynde but faltered by Twerkly's cart and suddenly stomped over with wide eyes, sniffing "Woahhh what are these? can i have one?" he said with a dreamy, hungry expression.

Maydril was shocked out of her staring by Urgoth's grunt - glancing up at him with a small start. "Ah..." Breathed out, perhaps the slightest colour coming to her hace - rather, darkening. Taking a soft breath, she tried to relax some - he was right, she was very tense. Slowly tried to control it, though her eyes wandered over around briefly once more. They kept returning to Kort and Morgue, though the look had lessened in intensity.

Twerkly Harding smiled at Aharon as he gobbled the meatball, almost squeaking with delight that someone was actually eating it. And his joy continued! Another customer! Twerkly nodded "One, even two! Enjoy!" he said with delight before his face was suddenly hit by a few puffs of smoke from his contraption, sending him in a coughing fit. He recovered soon enough, face covered in soot as he stared at his customers. "And if you enjoy that..." he started to say as he pointed to a small black pot "For a one copper donation to science, I can make you a personalized one."

Gibbit looked awed by it "Oh i wish i had a copper to give you, but i dont. but uh if i find one i'll give it to you!" he said and then took two of the mystery meatballs "Thank you mister!" he called and turned tail and fled exciteably towards Blynde , suddenly dropping down beside the man on his knees rather loudly "CABBY! i got you something!" he exclaimed and offered the meat ball towards the elven mans face "it smells great- try it!" he insisted and crammed his own into his mouth and chewed messily, murmuring happily.

Kortril. "Then you would do well to not squander that opportunity. Be who they expect you to be, and earn their acceptance.", says the blue elf to Morgue. He pauses; looking around once more, he notices Maydril's glare on both of them, again - and this time, he returns it with a small grin which, like everything about this creature, seems very practiced and not genuine at all. "It would appear we are being watched, brother. Some people in this land are complete strangers to politeness."

Aharon ben Elazar: Arron had eyed the machination with much fascination and some suspicion, but the mystery meat however, had proved more fascinating: a bit of boar - though he would have never admitted to having tried it before his arrival in Rayneth - and something implacable. "I am not very sure what it is I am tasting in addition to this, but it is not bad! Well done, altermann!" He gave Twerkly a handful of change, before excusing himself to wander in the direction the boy had come. "One moment," to both Blynde and Gibbit, and surreptitiously passed one copper to the excitable boy.

Twerkly Harding almost gasped at the sight of so much coins at once. The man adjusted his goggles and put a hand on one of his levers with a grin "Oh, it's showtime." he whispered to himself as he pulled the lever with an overly dramatic gesture "I'll need to do some measurements first, sir!" he yelled out to Aharon as he ran off to give the boy a copper. In the meanwhile his contraption seemed to spew out more steam and it was making a slight growling noise. Twerkly added a bucket of something in a hatch on the back, together with a handful of other stuff he produced from one of his many bags.

Blynde leaned back a bit from the sudden intrusion into his personal space, but accepted the offering with one careful hand. "If it isn't my strange little friend," he said by way of greeting, using his free hand to lower his hood. A wild green mane of ridiculous proportions and the fluffy ridge going his neck were revealed in the sunlight. It was no wonder his hood seemed to sit strangely, it hid both strangely shaped skull and the mass of hair atop it. This meat was of suspicion to his developed remaining senses, but a hungry old beggar did not bother to concern himself over it.

Morgue nodded his head calmly "I will" he said simply. Though upon being informed that they were being watched he turned his head and bared his teeth at no one in particular, letting out a low growl before stepping away to be more at Kortril's side instead "Perhaps after the festival, i could go with you"

Maydril bristled, once more, as Kort smirked and glared back at her. The small shift of her sword at her side would be seen, the hilt pointed toward him - he was too far away to hear the purr - before she shifted to turn her attention elsewhere, slowly, subtly moving closer and closer to Urgoth. She'd speak softly, "I was unaware sea elves ever crawled up to the surface." She was close enough at this point that the orc might occasionally feel the brush of her armour.

Urgoth lifted his head to look in the direction Maydril was glancing and it was just in time to find the Duke's eyes on them. He frowned and turned his head away to Maydril as she spoke to him "Sea elves?" he rumbled as if he hadnt heard the term "Is that what he is?"

Gibbit looked pleased with himself as his homeless friend ate the food he'd aquired, but then as Aharon came by and gave him the copper he stared at the man and took it with bright, wide eyes, too stunned to even thank him. "Cabby wait right there!" he said and ran over to the cart Twerkly was working at to offer the copper, shouting a few thankyou's to Aharon "Can i get a personali...per- a special one for my friend?!" he asked loudly and bounced on his heels.

Maydril nodded gently, eyes following the general crowd at this point. She seemed uncomfortable as more people came. "As far as I'm aware. What I've been told of their lot, they're incredibly secretive.... Untrustworthy." Pausing, pursing her lips. "I've heard nothing good of them. Like most of the common elves of the surface." Shaking her head.

Twerkly Harding looked at Gibbit from behind a whole bunch of lenses, stroking his beardless chin "Just you wait." he replied with a mad cackle as he pulled a few more levers "Anything particular you have in mind, young one? I can give it whatever shape you want. Hell, I'll even give it a special flavor if you like. Your wish, is my meatballs." In the meanwhile he seemed to be preparing a few instruments, glancing to and from them and Aharon.

Kortril. "Perhaps, Morgue. Perhaps.", the elf repeats, and leaves it at that. His eyebrow raises slightly and his smile fades when the hilt of Maydril's sword is pointed at him, but he doesn't comment on it, nor does he react, dismissing it as something unremarkable.

Urgoth smirked tuskily and used an elbow to give Maydril a fairly light nudge "Im sure, i bet joo heard lots of good things about Orc's though." he chuckled roughly and eyed her expectantly.

The entrants were dwindling, most already having settled upon the ground and had already begun eating the Empire-supplied food (rather than nabbing something from the peasant's cart) and soon the band began to play a low and mellow peice that accented the feast rather well.

Gibbit uhmed and ah'd but then he giggled stupidly "Make it look like a bear!" he exclaimed exciteably "Make it taste like uh- cooked beef!" he grinned toothily, the two snaggle teeth on show goofily.

Late but not unprepared came a cheetah-taur: Lady Forest. She sacrificed a beloved instrument (an ocarina), before being on her way.

Maydril's face gave Urgoth a smile, but it faltered. Strange looks passed over her face, and she glanced away - Perhaps, from their time together at this point, Urgoth would know this would be the time the dark elf would usually excuse herself and disappear for hours. Her back was to him at this point, though she hadn't moved from her incredibly close quarters to him. It'd take a good moment, before: "... would you like some food or drink." Voice pitched in a way that suggested that flat-lipped look fat back on her face - as anyone else before her might see.

Twerkly Harding tapped on his contraption "Beefbear. Simple enough." he said ponderingly as he decided which levers to pull and which valves to turn. A slush of meatgoo sprayed into an almost perfectly placed bowl and then Twerkly was seen in action with various cooking utensils as he sculpted the meat as if it was a piece of art. Soon enough he managed to hand a decently-looking bear to Gibbit. Strangle enough the meat seemed to have been cooked by the time he was done sculpting. "Enjoy." Twerkly said with a smile before turning his attention to a far more generous customer. He picked up a weird stick, covered in script "Now. Let us begin!" as he pointed it at the man.

Morgue left it at that too, he turned away from the sea elf and turned his head to 'watch' the auras at the party, keeping a safe distance from everyone.

Gibbit giggled happily and took the bear, running back to Blynde and sitting back down, breaking it in half and offering the beefbear's top half to the hobo "I got you a special one, it looked like a bear but i want a little bit too"

Aharon ben Elazar: "Hä?! Wait, sir, what are we beginning-?!" Arron, who had been idly observing the others (and who had only slightly twitched an eye at the odd little boy's request for a meat-bear). He held up his hands, belt-adornments jangling, 'I-didn't-do-it' written on his face...

Twerkly Harding shrugged, stepped from behind his cart with the stick "Nothing to worry about, good man." he said as he pointed the stick at the man's lips "Just lick this if you will. And then I'll blow your mind." Twerkly pondered his statement for a moment before adding "Figuratively, of course. It's not a firewand or something."

Urgoth peered to Maydril and offered a tired smile "That would be nice." he said and turned to guide her towards the provided food, his hand briefly on her back but he stood back to let her pick what she wanted first "I could do with sitting down somewhere and enjoying the atmosphere, i think."

Maydril stiffened slightly at the touch to her back - perhaps poor Urgoth did not know what she did when she disappeared - but the woman walked, anyway. She leaned down briefly, grabbing a few choice items from the canvas - she seemed to grab for anything that might be fish or mushrooms, and also surprisingly had a sweet tooth - before slipping off toward a more peaceful edge, eyes flicking over anyone nearby. She seemed to feel Urgoth would follow her of his own accord, taking a seat and, food in lap, mushrooms being quickly done away with.

Aharon ben Elazar: Wait one moment! "Altermann," he said, pointedly ducking away from Twerkly's stick, utterly bemused. "I really should be thinking about more food, there is some over there, and perhaps meeting my assistant for the game that is scheduled- oh, listen, there is music-!"

Pernosco stepped out of the shadows of the trees. When had the inspector arrived? apparently before everyone else if he was already here. Surely he must have been standing there the whole time. His large amber eyes were fixed directly ahead and his head slowly bobbed up and down as he focused on anyone of interest, silent in his observation. Though two peasants nearby quickly ran away to sit far far away from the terrifying man who'd appeared, discussing heatedly among themselves if he was meant to be here and who was he?

Twerkly Harding lowered his stick, disappointedly. "I...if you wish, Sir." Twerkly said with a sigh as he returned behind his cart and started packing up things "I should be leaving soon anyway. Need to resupply. My food was more popular than anticipated!" he said as he gestured to the nearly emptied plate. Gibbit's enthousiasm had without doubt inspired others to try it out. "Blessings of the Titans upon you."

Urgoth followed Maydril, serving himself a plate of food, especially fish too but not so much the mushrooms. The Orc followed the rookie templar to a place to sit, peacefully staring out at the river as he soaked up the music and the evening's atmosphere, sighing deeply and then turning his attention back to Maydril "Are joo enjoying joorself?"

Aharon ben Elazar: The tall man visibly relaxed. "And to you as well, sir! You will know where to find me, yes. Or I will find you! Once you resupply!"

Maydril seemed briefly startled at the emergence of Pernosco, watching the peasants move quickly away, a frown clear on her face as she stuffed her mouth with another, large mushroom. As Urgoth sat next to her, she glanced away from the strange man, eyes trailing from the orc's plate to his face. "I'm more interested in the game I hear is going to happen. ... Will you be participating?" She didn't exactly know what was going to happen, other than the obviousness of its naming.

Urgoth nodded "I suppose it would be a good way to get out a little bit of anger" he said "I like to try and participate... - did i tell joo about the time i won the fishing competition yet?" his chest puffed a little and he put a slab of fish in his mouth. He had indeed already told her, perhaps more than once but he seemed to forget.

Maydril - So perhaps Urgoth wasn't as oblivious as he might sometimes lead May to believe. Her face darkened again, murmurcing "Just a bit," glancing away as he started on about the fishing competition. "A few times, yes." She didn't forget. She elf busied herself with fish in her mouth at this point - glancing over at the sea elf, if he were still there, as if the fish reminded her.

Kortril is indeed still there, and as if knowing that he is being looked at, looks right back at Maydril and smiles some more - a smug smile if there was ever any. He even goes so far as to wave, just to make sure that she knows that it's her he's looking at. Such human gestures look very wrong on such an odd being.

Urgoth smiled "Ah .. i always forget who i've told, maybe i should stop telling so many people" he chuckled and let it go, eating happily, unaware of the interaction going on behind his back "Im enjoying myself more than i thought i would, at least."

Ze'evi: Fashionably late, and seemingly attempting to look as inconspicuous as possible, shuffled a large, shapeless, solid hulk of a creature. Its hood and cape were an appropriate shade of green, and in large, slick gloves, it brought a basket of various cuts. On top, a small flower. It left it with the other offerings and lumbered toward the butcher, who had been milling about in the meantime (happily sampling more conventional foodstuffs and drink, this time).

Maydril seemed lost in the interaction to Urgoth's words, staring hard at the sea elf's actions, stuffing a sweet treat in her mouth as she waved back - his actions were reminding her of the intrigue of drow households. The brief flick of her fingers turned into slowly petting the hilt of the sword, staring at him briefly longer, before finally affixing orange eyes elsewhere: Namely, the freakish thing lumbering through the grounds toward who knew. The sword was jerked partially out of the sheath, silver shining as it let out a -now audible- purr toward Ze'evi. Baffled look crossed her face, head was shaken, and sword shoved back down with a frown.

Ze'evi: With a CRACK, the head whipped around to face Maydril at her movement. It remained frozen, seemingly staring at her from the two little eye-holes of its hood. And then, it curiously tilted its head.

Kortril's smile fades the moment Maydril's attention is directed to someone (something?) else - clearly it was just for show. With mild curiosity, he glances at the lumbering creature, but it is apparently not enough to interest him, how odd. Even after it so oddly moved to stare at Maydril with what must be its eyes, Kortril seems disinterested. Or maybe the beast's presence just made him realize it is time to leave - with steady, slow steps, the Duke leaves the festival's premises, heading towards the city gates.

Maydril missed the Duke's departure, as she was glancing between the sword and the monster-thing, her brow raised questioningly. But she let it go. Glaring at the contraption until it went away, but doing little else. She was on her best behaviour, after all!

Soon, after a group prayer to the Great Mother-Father, the game of dodge-rock would commence to one-half of the clearing. Among the participants were a bulky merchant, the butcher's 'assistant' Ze'evi, the High Templar Urgoth, a guard named Aydar, and a templar-in-training, Maydril. What game proceeded was a predictable blur of hurled stones and ended in loads of bruises, blood and broken bones. The last man standing, and declared winner, was the High Templar himself.. but the next day would yeild far more than the word that he'd won.