"The smithy will be finished at the end of winter. I shall begin work on your armor in spring."
Tiana goes to Alexandro in the winter of 1230 and asks him if he'd marry Fedora. "It will strengthen our argument to keep the Mercer House here at Andorra," she explains.
Pardon me?
But...
Are you daft woman?!?
"No, I'm not, and you'd do well to remember that sexism is strictly not tolerated by House Mercere. Look, our superiors want to pull out the Mercer House from Andorra. But the one thing we all understand, the one thing we all respect, is family ties. The more roots Fedora and I have within the Andorran community, the more reluctant they will be to make us move. I'm not asking for much, it's just a ring on a finger, and of course you should give her at least one child. Can I count on you to serve your covenant, Alexandro?" She bats her eyes at him and places a hand on his arm.
And what is sexist about asking if you are daft? And may I remind you that you are the one that is trying to sell a woman's hand in marriage for political reasons.
What you need to do is stop thinking up ideas for trickery, and start thinking what the plain facts are. Facts will win your case, the Truth always prevails.
"Addressing a maga as woman. I have a name: Sebastiana, and I'll thank you to remember it in the future."
"Spoken like one with no understanding of politics," she muses. "Fedora will definitely need to marry someone more shrewd than to believe in such blind idealism, oblivious to the world's workings. Forget I asked." She turms on her heels and walks away.
(((OOC: It isn't sexism, it's machismo 
))
For her part, Fédora spends a lot of time the next few weeks socializing, in her own morose way. Mostly discretely checking out the menfolk, making inquiries amongst the people as to who's available, who's spoken for, who would make a good husband, who's good-looking. Preferably not one that has a sheaf of testimonials about how good he is in the sack. She actually has Intrigue, specialty: gossip. Her roll, if needed, is Int 1 + Intrigue (Gossip) 3 + die roll of 2 = 6.
When I have time, I'll go through and see who I see as viable options, unless anyone of the covenant's fine eligible bachelors wish to volunteer their services.
At the end of summer (1230), Vulcanus invites Vibria to his studio. When she arrives, there is a tea service steaming hot on a small marble table.
Prominently displayed in the center of the studio is an exquisite suit of armor. It is chainmail of the finest toledo steel, with reinforced plates of brass impossibly textured with cold iron; tiny rubies form elaborate runes in the breastplate.
"Would you like to try it on?" the burly smith asks, grinning.
Vibria stops, stunned at the exquisite masterpiece, her hand rising to her neck in awe. She reaches out and gingerly runs her fingertips along the runes and caresses the engravings on the brass plates and the iron.
[color=red]"I'm almost afraid to," she says reverentially, [color=red]"it's too beautiful."
But she will take the armour into the next room and put it on, coming out after a few minutes to let the Verditian Flambeau get a good look at how it looks on Vibria.
[color=red]"What do you think?" she smiles.
The smith laughs heartily. "What good is a thing of beauty, if it serves no purpose? Believe me, it will be most beautiful when it stops arrows from touching that fair skin of yours."
Vulcanus smirks. "I already know it's the finest armor in the entire Tribunal. What do you think, is the question? But before you answer, you should know what it does, first." He moves behind Vibria and flips a springloaded catch, so that a copper panel rises up and exposes a large area on Vibria's back. "Now walk outside and say, 'Fugio.'"
When Vibria does does so, she feels an itchiness between her shoulder blades, and suddenly an enormous pair of crimson dragon wings springs out of her back. She can feel that the armor is maintaining concentration on the spell, just waiting for her will to direct where she wants to fly.
***OOC notes: The armor is toledo steel and excellent +1, and an item of quality, for a total soak of 18. The item has a total capacity of 24 (I'd previously forgotten that toledo steel bumps up one step for vis capacity) of which 21 remain. The Iberian Runes give a bonus of +6 to dragon-related effects, and here is the total list of shape & material bonuses you can choose to take advantage of:
- Armor: Protect wearer +7
- Brass: +3 to Ignem and Music, +4 to angels and demons
- Cold iron: +3 to bonds, +7 to harm or repel faeries
- Copper: +2 to passion and sex magic, +3 to bloodshed, +4 to deftness and to effects that change one's own shape
- Rubies: +3 to courage, battle wounds, blood; +4 to leadership in war; +6 to fire-related effects
- Opals: images +2, imagination +2, invisibility +2, memory +4, travel +4, eyes +6
[color=red]"Thank you," Vibria says shyly as she blushes.
((Is the catch where Vibria can reach it easily?))
Vibria grins like a kid on Christmas, then looks up to one of the covenant towers. She leaps up, willing the wings to take her in a couple of lazy circles around the roof before bringing her back down to the ground. She runs over and hugs Vulcanus tightly. [color=red]"Oh, thank you so much! It's incredible! And more than I dreamed of! I can never thank you enough!"
Yes, and it won't release on accident either. It's "magic" right?
He returns the hug, and maybe lingers close to her a little longer than strictly necessary. "Just, be safe, and take care of yourself."
[color=red]"I'm a Flambeau...what do I know of being safe?" she japes before she eventually breaks the hug.
[color=red]"Out of curiosity...how fireproof is the armour?" she asks as she looks down and caresses the gemstones.
"It hasn't been enchanted against fire yet-- I thought you might want to do that yourself-- but it uses strips of incredibly fine-linked chain, where most armors would use leather. So if you set it on fire, it will stay put."
[color=red]"That's good to know. I can't remember the last time I've been so embarrassed."
She will hug him again quickly and take her leave to get used to the new armour. And she wears it pretty much constantly for the next several days, still beaming. Or at least, every time Vulcanus sees her, she's wearing it.
(Still in Winter 1230) Vulcanus seeks out Vibria. "I need your advice..." he mutters uncomfortably. "The Redcaps are on the prowl for husbands, and Ludwig says they both have their sights set on me. If I ever marry, it will be for love--" he studiously doesn't look at her when he says that-- "though Cupid never strikes magi, and I DO NOT want to piss off the Mercere. What do I do?"
((Sniped! 
))
Vibria offers her cognatus some wine and offers him a seat, taking a seat across from him. She takes a sip of wine as she looks at him, with a hint of a smirk on her face.
[color=red]"Most men would kill to be in your shoes, Vulcanus. Two beautiful women chasing after you with only one thing on their mind?"
She shakes her head. [color=red]"I'm sorry, I can tell this is a real concern for you, and I don't mean to make light of your dilemma." She sets her goblet on the table and leans forward.
[color=red]"This may sound obvious, but have you considered telling them how you feel if they approach you? I've seen you face down a dragon, and most women are less fearsome than dragons."
((Int 1 + Order of Hermes Lore 1 + die roll of 7 = 9.))
She sits back again and takes another sip of wine. [color=red]"And who says Cupid never strikes magi?Merlin loved Nimue," and she uses the above roll to name a couple of other magi she's heard of that had fallen in love.
[color=red]"As far as not pissing off the Mercere. Surely they have to respect your honesty and integrity when you tell them why you can't marry either one of them. I know I would."
"I wouldn't have most women. As for them approaching me, I have been hiding in my workshop and sending away all callers, much to my staff's amusement."
"Fat lot of good it did them! She sealed him away in a tower and stole his magical secrets from him! Just like those Redcaps would do to me! If I ever fathered a Gifted child, she would grow up to be a Flambeau, and I would teach her my craft! ...Or him," he adds, as an afterthought. "But if I were forced into marriage with some Redcap, I would never get to see any of my children, they would be stolen from me by those obsessive dynastic people and I'd never see them again."
"Must they? I swore an oath of loyalty and fealty to the good of this covenant. 'I don't want to marry you' is a poor excuse when the covenant's future may well ride on what the Mercere decide about the future of their operations in Andorra." He looks down absentmindedly and seems surprised to see that he has crushed his wine goblet in his hand, spilling wine all over his trousers.