(ES1704) A Court without a Crown

[Cayce]

Great roleplay everyone! Keep it up!

A silence descended throughout the restaurant when the challenge was declared, a silence that held as the true Movers and Shakers among the Lost of Sacramento debated and discussed. Dinbrane, whose response to her Queen had been cut off by the sudden and impertinent challenge, gave Mhairi a pointed look before she transfered her gaze to the fresh blooded Ogre, @Cynthia.

"It is my pleasure to serve," the dark winged hand maiden declared, "and so that is why, after I fetch something with spice, I would be most honored to accept a duel on the Dread Queen's behalf. Though, the duel I would accept would not be under a coward's terms. Only those ruled by their own fears would abandon all sense of protocol and tradition, after all, and attempt to issue a challenge that soley favors their strengths. A truly honorable duelist would abide by the terms of the Hedge, where weapons are words and thorns as much as they are steel and bone, and where the Wyrd itself acts as arbiter."

And, Cosette, for her part, also spoke up.

"I would not presume to say whether a duel is fitting, or not, but I find monsieur Lucien's words to be quite wise, as are those madamoiselle Bellanar and monsieur Green. Besides, I would sooner set my tongue to my own knives then I would allow anyone to duel near my restaurant, and so I think that we should remember that there is food and drink, and conversation to be had, rather than blood."

[Malcolm Green]

Green sat on the sidelines as Cynthia's challenge rippled out amongst the gathered Lost. The mountain could understand Morgan being so edgy about it, having been beaten in the Flesh Market's Pit. Lucian, the newly arrived Fairest tried to redirect the flow of conversation; and Cosette made the limits of her hospitality known.

He sighed, loudly.

"Fine. Sit with us. Eat. Its what you are here for, yeah. We can talk."

And then with painful slowness he turned to face the Ogre, ignoring the ominous creak as his seat groaned in protest.

"And when we've talked we'll talk about a Good Neighbours Pact*. I am still Constable of this 'Hold. Consider it an investment so I don't have to keep checking up on you, yeah? Of course... We could always step out into the Hedge away from here and duel it, if you want to test me. We need fighters right now; if you win, you're in 'cause you've earned it. I win, we Pledge. At least until the turn of the season and the Crimson Sovereign appears... If they appear."

Was there a gleam in his gemstone eye when he said this?

*P188 of Changeling Core. It a way of ensuring friendly relations with no major duties on either side.

[Mhairi Ankaa]

The Summer Ogress speaks, and Mhairi shakes her head. Disbelieve threading through her being. She knew the Ogre would be stubborn, but she didn't think that a Summer would push this far as to want an oath-bound brawl.

The soft undertones of decaying leaves transform with her temper, sharply plunging from something that simply teased the nose to a pungent scent of death and decaying of a full forest's leaves. The pitter patter of her rain, shifts, changing so it's less of a spattering and more of a shower. Her fell-flames flicker and steam rises from her as the rain meets the motes that manage to escape.

"No." She says, barely hearing what the other Lost had said in response to this-this idiot! "Don't you get it? We are a Freehold without a Sovereign. The Cycles's broke any one of Them could barrel down on us at any fucking moment! We have a fucking Dragon at our doorstep, and the Autumn Queen - me - and the Freehold's Constable - Green - have entered a Pledge that in a year if we don't end that bastard and tear out his tongue and his fuck heart and give them to one of Them. Me and Green are going Back!" Mhairi huffs her moonlit flesh heating with her anger, but instead of turning a true red-orange of fire, it begins to match her fell green fire that escapes her eyes. "I was willing to wait until the evening was drawing to a close, but we are at war. Something I thought Summer understood. But clearly, Summer only favors you for your blood thirst, So you will swear my Pledge of Good Intent or you will leave."

[Morgan Bellanar]

When Mhairi went imperious and shot down the challenge completely, Morgan calmed. When Cynthia back down, she let out a sigh of relief, "Good, no violence tis good. Nary as bad as past courtiers were, heh, that tis good." They'd had quite a few members that would've come to blows quite easily. The old Summer even had cage matches on occasion if she recalled right. "Heh recollect heh how I pissed off all four sovereigns whence I first arrived, heh-heh...huh?" And then Lucien was offering food. Morgan's fire had dimmed down to almost nothing, the veins barely visible and only little embers inside her pupils whilst she'd been panicked about a duel. When Lucien popped over, her Fireheart nature came back like someone had turned a dial up, because the glow was back to full strength.

"Uh...sure Lucien," she turned back to Mhairi, giving her Queen some space, "Uh, Imma gonna socialize with the joyful noob about club speak. Seems less tense by much. If ye need aught or wanna talk Mhairi, or if ye hath troubles I'll be right there. Instantly. Wave, shout, and I'll be beside ye fast. Or certainly in range too if needed," yes, she still had knives on her. Next she spoke very loudly: "And thank ye all heh who art here! Tis grand to avoid voilence amongst friends and future friends that might join our community! Ye hath mine gratitude."

She then joined Lucien at the table.

Morgan did try one of the cheese appetizers, "Hmm...little spicy. " She coughed to clear her throat, "Well I can tell ye that norman or norma tis heh a term for normal folks, not Lost. And club tis the heh 'hold. So club members are vowed, officers art, well, officers, and club speak tis our slang for our slang," she paused in thought, "That sounded better in mine heh head. Tis mostly so we can speak on club business, erm, about changeling business around normans, heh, that tis normal people without a worry for exposure." she tilted her head in curiosity as she wondered what terms Lucien was looking for in particular. No harm in asking: "Art there any part of our changeling lexicon, oh that twas the right word, wait sorry tangent, heh. Meant to ask if ye art curious of any specific phrases we hath club speak versions of...so, uh, do ye?"

[Malcolm Green]

Green's mouth opens as the Ogre backs down - dramatically so.

"Um. Yeah. Okay. Uh... Sit with me and eat something. We can talk."

He gestured to the table he sat at; turning his attention to the menu.

[Mhairi Ankaa]

Maybe it was the way Mhairi wasn't backing down, or maybe it was the desperation igniting within her fiery gaze, but the Ogress backs down. In an extreme way.

Mhairi blinks.

But she nods, gotta roll with the punches...
...or an ogre on their knees.

"Your punishment, is that you're going to take some yoga, and some meditation. You need to learn to calm down. I understand Wrath and all. But there is a time and place. And you'll swear the Pledge of Good Intent. To me. Right now.

"For a Season. Until Springs fragrant flowers, are smothered under Summer's brutal heat, I swear to protect you Cynthia Pike* Ogress of Summer, with the keen edge of my blade...as long as you do not betray those within the Freehold of Sacramento. By word or deed. You will fight for us, and not against us."

Mhairi's will comes to bare, she's already invoked the Wyrd, the weight of it can be felt as it waits...for a response.

Pledge and OOC

*Sorry to use your name here, I know Mhairi doesn't know it, but it sounds cooler, but if you don't like it, we can just say that Mhairi said 'you, Ogress of Summer' instead of using Cynthia's name ^^

Pledge of Good Intent
Type: Vow
Task: Medial Alliance (-2)
Boon: Adroitness (minor +1 Skill) (for Mhairi this is +1 Weaponry)
Sanction: Curse(-1)
Duration: season (+2)