This map will show you exactly where to go!

"Well 'tis better than spending this season alone again." He said to himself. "And whilst home does still call, I know my friends can look after it for a few days more." He got up from where he had been sitting, the book he had previously been studying fell to the floor, now forgotten. Storme headed inside, motioning for the messenger to wait for a minute as he decided how to dictate his response. Walking to his own writing desk, Storme moved through his house, mumbling as he went. Grabbing a fresh sheet of parchment and a quill, Storme began to write his response.

-C

It shall be a pleasure to come and attend your feast. I must, however, inform you that I may be slightly late due to other plans that are currently in place.

-Storme of Hauk

Storme nodded, it looked OK, and he could not see any obvious mistakes with it. Happy the ink had dried, he folded the letter up, put it in an envelope and sealed it. Looking down at the seal he frowned. It was on an old relic of his, from when he had still called himself Auran the Blazing, and its insignia was different from the one he used now. He sighed, it was done now and not a lot could change it. Finding some silver coins, he made his way out and handed both the coins and the letter to the messenger, quickly bidding him a good and quick journey.

Heading back inside once again Storme began to write up more letters, hoping his birds could carry them safely to his friends back home. He would visit them after this was all said and done. He smiled, sometimes wishing he could go back to those times where things were much simpler, but then he would think of what he had done since and realise that, perhaps, some things are just meant to be.

Stockins commented intelligently, holding up the letter.

'Waurgh,' He added to his essay, holding the letter up further, observing it against the light.

'Gwaaurgh!' He continued, eyes widening.

'Could I please have my letter back?' Lord Reedy asked, drawing himself up and brushing his (very fancy and expensive) coat.

'Gwghaaaaurgh!' Stockins exclaimed, turning around and walking off. The clattering of his equipment rose and dipped like a really bad orchestra.

'Um. Can I have it back, now?' Lord Reedy said, slowly approaching.
Go on a walk alone, he had told himself. Get away from the crowd, he had told himself. Be yourself, he had told himself.

'Please?' He stepped closer, feeling a dreadful, choking warmth rising in his face and neck.

'Glarlrgalrgh!' The short merchant argued, walking off, staring into the letter.

His knees wobbled. A weight pressed against his neck. He wiped the sweat off his forehead, and looked at his hand. It was small, thin, and weak, gleaming with oily sweat.
'Can we be reasonable?' He babbled.

The merchant spun around. His eyes were practically swirling with madness.
''Course, 'course. I'm a proper businessman, of course. I'm being stupid, pardon.' The merchant thought he was saying.

'Hrrnghrrrng.' Is what came out. He clattered and tinkled, pulling something out of a pocket.

Lord Reedy squeaked, as a silvery object flew out of the merchant's hand, clinking against the cobbled ground.
He looked up, watching pathetically as the merchant continued down the path, muttering and babbling.
He caught a few words, like 'payment,' 'business,' 'letter,' and, most frequently: 'feast.'

((I'm probably available. Er. Probably. I might not be, but I can't imagine why.
And, hey, he might not be nobility - but he's a proper businessman, you know!))

looked up from sweeping last week's moldy rushes off the floor to notice a pair of well-dressed women enter, stamping their boots and complaining loudly of the weather. She could tell from their livery that they were the servants of someone of rank, but the heraldry was unfamiliar to her. They ordered hot drinks -- "don't care what kind, so long as they're steaming" -- and sat down at a table near the window, far from the other customers (a family of new arrivals, poking with bemusement at their complimentary "Newbie Pastries").

When their mugs of Hot Stuff arrived, they fell silent, drinking as voraciously as possible without burning the roofs off their mouths. Once they were warmed somewhat, they began to speak again, this time in whispers.

Catherine swept herself a meandering path which made a figure-eight around two tables, passed the piano, and gradually, entirely by accident, made its way to right behind the pillar nearest the classily-garbed strangers, where she found that the rushes were stuck to the floor with a glob of something rather nasty, forcing her to remain there for several minutes.

". . .stupid Christmas party. . ." she heard one of the fancily-attired women mutter. Catherine loved parties. She leaned a little closer.

". . .new knights. . . think they're all that and a bag of. . ." her swankily-clad associate commiserated. A new knight? Was their faith in the cause pure? Did they sally forth and return shrouded in a haze of righteously-spilled Marizu blood? Were they meritous, brave, and true? Were they -- her heart thudded -- handsome? (She mentally slapped herself. She had a girlfriend out there, somewhere. Farming in Vidya Gaym, or perhaps traveling Weab. . .)

". . .ugh, all the way. . .in this weather. . ." Catherine strained to hear. From whence had these strangers come, in clothes of such fine make? There-- there it was! She could swear the second woman had said: Tumblar.

How far was that? She had counted herself lucky to find lodging anywhere in Plort, but perhaps another journey was in order. Perhaps, for such a big party, the knight would consider hiring some extra help.

". . .on earth. . .serving girl. . ." Catherine managed not to jump. With utmost nonchalance, she continued her circuit of the room.

((OOC: Might crash the party, if that's okay. I don't think I have any other plans for that day.

And yes, I believe this is Catherine's first appearance? I think I've mentioned her before, though, and I have a backstory for her if you want it. It needs serious editing, but I can do that pretty quickly now that finals are just about over.))

--Key

"I am known to the noble knights of Plort?" he murmured. "I had not thought any of them knew my name..." He sat down and reread the missive. Should he? It might be helpful to get to know the knights, especially as he one day desired to join their ranks, and he had heard they were all fine folk, but to be so bold? Perhaps the message had been sent to the wrong person. But he did wish to go, and there must be some way he could exit gracefully if it had arrived at the wrong destination. He looked about his workroom, and his eyes lit on his spectacles, Michael, and he recalled an idea he had toyed with concerning them. He smiled. It would take some planning, yes, and it would be difficult to acquire the materials and assemble them in such a short time frame, but if he could manage it, it would be quite rewarding. But first, to reply, and find an appropriate pseudonym. The young man considered for a moment, then was struck with a burst of inspiration. Yes, that would do quite well. He found a piece of parchment and a pen, and wrote out his acceptance.

Sir Cipher,

I offer my congratulations on receiving your heraldry. I most humbly accept your gracious invitation. If it does not trouble you greatly, I shall attempt to arrive before the sun sets upon the day of the feast. I am greatly anticipating this joyous occasion.

Sincerely, Granz.

Alexander returned to his door, and was surprised once more, for the messenger had waited to receive his reply. He turned over his message, then quickly hurried back inside to fetch more parchment, ink, and a slab of wood before setting out to search for supplies. It might be best to be able to see the materials he would be able to work with as he planned.

I look forward to the day of revelry.

There is nothing that requires my immediate attention now, anyway.

-Signed, Baron Thanasius Ampelius, etc

Dearest Cipher,

It is with my pleasure that I accept your invitation. However, I must also provide a caveat that I will be busy with hunting for most of the season, given that I must provide for all of my creatures in these trying times. I therefore may not be able to stay for very long, but I will try to make my time worthwhile regardless.

Take care, and I hope to see you at the party!

Sincerely yours,
Skaer'morys the Silver

(OOC: In other words, the house rules will make my participation difficult, which is a given, but I'll still try to join you guys whenever I can!)

Dear Sir:

Allow me to offer my sincerest congratulations on your new heraldry. I accept your invitation with pleasure, and look forward to hearing from you and my fellow knights.

-Dame eatpraylove

Wiping sweat off of his brow, he greeted the messenger. He took the note a wrote the following in reply:

Noble Lord Cipher,

I trust this reply made it to you in good time. I will be leaving the day after sending this note. I do reside close, so I expect to make it to you within the day.

-Sir Matthias Snow

I am interested in learning how everything here does... so you can expect me to at least try to be there! I have something to attend later in the evening, so I may have to bow out early, but I will do my best to make an appearance.