Winds lowers her glass to the table, looking Jacopo in the eye not with fear, but with anger and contempt. "My betters?" She snorts scornfully. "I have been told about your notions on what makes a 'better' magus. You will not see me weep because I do not embody it." With that she focuses once more on her meal, attempting to feign indifference to the scene Jacopo is creating around her.
Korvin tries to remain calm while watching Jacopo.
This is the boogie man of the White Lady. This is Cato's monster and the subject to many stories by the other Redcaps who server the Greater Alps Tribunal.
He remembers to breath and takes a small drink.
Jonathan doesn't mind. He flexes his chest muscles, and stands up himself to right the old man on his feet.
When the servants dispersed, did I see that pretty girl? What is her name? I ask the other servants if my character doesn't know her name.
"Hmph!" Nonna Francisca puffs up, like a ruffled bird. "That was going to wait for tomorrow, dear, and bringing it up was frightfully rude." She turns and hobbles over to Cato, placing a dry hand on his shoulder with a slightly forced smile. "It's all right, Cato, he's just an ass. There's men like him all over."
Apple has a neutral expression on his face as he watches Jacopo's entrance, Cato's reaction, and Jacopo making the rounds, "putting everyone in their place".
Now that there is a quiet spot, he'll speak in a quiet voice. "I thought you would have been taller. Funny how it's never the way you think it will be, isn't it?"
He motions to Winds at the other end of the table. "Can you pass the bowl of turnips He-of-the-Miraculous-Entrances wasn't standing in?"
Lowering her knife to her plate, Winds will look down the table to Apple. Trying to emulate his reserved facade, she replies with cool couresty, "But of course, Lord Apple." Winds picks up the bowl of turnips sitting beside her and hands it to Korvin. "Would you pass this along, please, Lord Korvin?" Glancing back down the table to Apple she asks, "Would you care for the salt as well?"
::rolls his eyes at the Lord this and Lady that talk...and passes the turnips::
(Jonathan is looking for an excuse to slip away, perhaps something was spilled on me?)
The girl’s name is Rosa. She was one of the first to go, and appears to have disappeared down a long hallway heading toward the kitchens.
Sure, whatever you like.
Cato pauses to compose himself. He squeezes Nonna’s shoulder for a moment, and then stands.
"I tire of this game, for I think we shall have enough opportunity to play it later. Good evening, everyone. Jacopo, see that you do not forget our meeting this evening. Nor you either, young magi." He stands and walks briskly out the door, not looking back.
Jacopo grins, showing predatory yellowed teeth, and snatches a turnip from the bowl as it passes by. His nose twitches, as if he can smell fear. As Winds continues to ignore him, he places a large hand on her shoulder.
With shocking speed for his thin build, he picks you up and slams you bodily against the table. It's jarring and a little painful. His lips are peeled back in a sneer, his crooked nose and bloodshot green eyes are eerily close to your own face.
"You are weak, little Bjornaer. Too weak to face your master’s legacy, too weak to stand up to your betters. Too weak to stand up even to me!"
Apple will smile sedately. "These turnips are a bit bland. Winds, can you please pass me the salt?"
There is a bit of commotion at a door as a figure enters - tall and broadshouldered, appearing far more physical than most any mage, and still with a dusting of snow across his cloak and hair.
He looks up and scans the scene, his ice blue, not-quite European eyes narrowing a bit.
"You deprifes maga uf mashical pbowers agains, Shokopo?" he says, in somewhat labored and oddly accented Latin. He fixes him with a cold stare, squaring his stance directly to Jacopo, hands low but free and ready, as if they were any two ruffians in a common alehouse, daring the other to make the first move.
He then shrugs and scoffs a bit, possibly as if it were nothing new to him, nor particularly any of his concern beyond a comment, or just not worth the trouble. He moves to the hearth, and warms his hands, turning his back on the scene, shaking the last of the snows off of his clothing as he does with a stamp and a shiver.
As Winds reaches for the salt to pass down the table, Jacopo pounces. The wind is knocked out of her lungs with a silent 'oof' as Jacopo whacks her onto the table. She blinks and glares back at him, hatred in her eyes and a sneer on her lips. And then she is gone, out from underneath him and away from his grasp.
She reappears again a couple paces behind Jacopo, with the salt container, now empty, still in her grasp. Winds spits onto the ground in front of her. "Too weak to dance to your rotten tune? I believe it was Albertina ex Criamon that told me once that as we grow older and get closer to the time we must meet He who created us, we revert back to as we once were, newly created."
With that, she strides purposefully to the door, pausing before she opens it, her hand resting on the handle, and turns her head to talk over her shoulder. "Come at me again, and I will see you at Tribunal." Winds glances over to Andrei, looking for support, though not really expecting to find any.
(One Giant Leap, ReCo20 (Re 8 + Co 4 + Sta 2 + Aura 4 - Quiet 5 + Roll 6 = 19))
invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/1915899/
The figure at the fire glances over his shoulder, with a nod of approval in the direction of the departing maga and a dry grin, then turns back to the flames...
Apple, with a grin, watches Winds exit. When the door shuts he turns to look at Jacopo and says, "I would ask you to pass the salt, but I'm afraid you would let that slip through your fingers as well."
Apple pushes his plate away. "Well, that's as much dinner as I can take. Thanks to the White Lady for the hospitality."
He glances again at Jacopo. "Cato said something about a meeting later? Is that for all of us?"
Winds storms out into the growing gloom of evening, aimlessly stomping through snow as she attempts to distance herself from what just happened. Stopping to pull up her hood as a particularly violent gust of wind comes down off the mountains, she considers her destination, and realizes that she still holds the salt container. Refusing to return to the dinning hall again tonight, she stuffs the small recepticle into a pouch and heads off to the entrance of the valley in search of the stables.
After much meandering and questioning, she finally gets directed towards a small, run down building that seems to be retrofitted with a door large enough to emit livestock. Winds fights the door open with much tugging and cursing, and lets herself into what the villagers consider "The Lord's Stable."
Crammed into a building barely large enough to hold a laboratory are a donkey, five goats, and her little mountain pony. Winds walks over to pony, scratching behind her ears, and winning a particularly wet snort when the pony discovers she didn't bring a treat with her.
Excellent 
. I will use the gravy spill on my clothes as an excuse to ditch this turnip conversation. "My apologies everyone, allow me to clean myself and my attire" I head into the hall, and instead of turning to go up to my room, I head down towards the kitchen to find Rosa. The subtle biting commengts and secret quarels of this turnip convovation are making me crazy! I am skipping the meeting and going on a date.
Nonna Francisca bundles her outermost coat back on and bustles out after Winds. She follows the footprints in the snow outdoors as they meander, and eventually finds her way into the tiny stable. She stamps the snow off her boots and smiles at Winds. "Are you all right, dear?" she asks.
Wiping a snotty hand on her robes, Winds looks up as the door creaks open to admit the elderly lady from dinner, Nonna. Sighing, she goes back to scratching the pony's head. "I'm alright, I guess. I certainly didn't envision this kind of reception." Her hand slows as she continues. "Though I'm not sure why I am so surprised. I knew my pater for 17 years, and not once did he return here, or express any desire to do so, until his deathbed. Now he will rest forever in this accursed place." Winds removes her hand from the pony and turns to Nonna. "What brings you to The White Lady, if I may ask?"
As Winds begins to cast her spell, Jacopo opens his mouth as if to say something (to cast a spell?), and then closes it and thinks the better of it as she teleports away. He is silent and makes no move to stop her as she leaves the room.
Once she has left, Andrei hems and haws. He moves slowly toward Jacopo, as if to chastise him. Jacopo turns to face the poor Guernicus and stares him down.
"Erm, well, technically, our new arrival has a point that, um, er…" Jacopo continues to stare, his eyes boring into the timid young man. "Yes, well, uh… never mind? No harm done…" Like a whipped dog, Andrei sits quietly back down in his seat, not making eye contact.
After Andrei is thoroughly cowed. Jacopo grins as Winds leaves, his lips quirking up in a ghost of a smile… almost.
"Good, a little spine after all. There may be hope for that one."
He turns to Ilmari. "Barbarians and fools should know better than to quote the Code at me, little Finn. If you wish words, or more someday I will gladly indulge you, but I fear I am on a schedule for tonight. Enjoy your fire. I’m surprised you know how to build one."
"It is indeed, O father-slayer. I will see you all there… I’m tired of playing with you all, for now."
He turns and walks out the door, quiet as a shadow. Dinner appears to be over, because the servants certainly aren’t coming back. The room is still warm, and you can stay and chat with your sodales, or return to your rooms, or anything else.
Those of you who return to your rooms will notice that your things have been looked through, and not subtly. If you posted guards, the guards saw nothing. On your bed or a piece of furniture is an elegantly penned note.
The first full meeting of the council will be in the hotspring, at the stroke of midnight. Ensure you are not late. Dress warmly, and be prepared.
-J.