Roleplay

[center][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=29585308] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/350/295854/29585308_350.png[/img] [/url][/center] Gwydion was tired. It wasn't eye-itching tiredness, though. It wasn't even an ache in his bones, nor something that made his head droop. No, this was something in his soul; something that kept him from sleeping or eating even though the Fey Calamity was supposedly over. Every Fletching dragon had been called to help with rebuilding the palace, but Gwydion wasn't made for manual labor. The months spent in the cold and crowded longhouse hadn't exactly built on his physique, either. But he was still the Arcane representative, after all. Both clan ambassadors had been sent elsewhere to call on aid, and with the entire Council of Suns up to their horns in work, it had been decided that Gwydion would be the best person to greet the leader of an Arcane ally when she arrived. He, personally, disagreed. As he stood shivering on the front steps of the broken palace, waiting and listening for the bells that would announce a new arrival, the skydancer cursed himself for his lack of interest in inter-clan politics. He had been able to cram in a little information from the records in the library on Clan Wanderlost, but it was all horribly out of date. And, as nervous as he was, Gwydion wasn't sure he would even be able to remember the names of the most important members. Oh, well. All he had to do was be polite and cordial, and he could pass the guest off to the Queen as soon as she was back from the dungeons visiting her family. He could do that much.

@Fletcher [center][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=18020678] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/350/180207/18020678_350.png[/img] [/url][/center] She had been journeying for days, alone with her thoughts, but even after all this time she could not puzzle out why [i]she[/i], of all the four Skylords, had been tapped to serve as emissary to Clan Fletching in their hour of need. Really, any of the others could have been more helpful with this mysterious "calamity." Lord Sarius would consult his ancient spellbooks to understand the strange magic at play. Lady Elyzabeth would be all business, all swift efficiency, diligently organizing the reconstruction. Lady Perle - [i]hmm, my darling[/i] - would perhaps have been the best of all, healing the wounded and comforting the bereaved in that gentle way of hers. But no. Instead, Clan Fletching would receive Her Excellency Lady Gracewing of Shatterblood, infamous bloodmage, infamously wily and capricious. The House of Shatterblood was not known for their empathy or political maneuverability. Gracewing would come, and see what there was to be gained. She would help Fletching it suited her. If they bored her, well, it had been a while since she last destroyed a clan. "Tell Queen Amdiffyn that I send my regards," Sarius had told her as she prepared to take her leave. He had looked at her with no little concern, as if he knew how indifferent she was to this whole endeavor. The flight from the Isles of Wanderlost to the Windswept Plateau was dangerous, especially in crossing over the Plaguelands. One would expect a noble lady to travel with guards, servants, a whole retinue, yet Gracewing travelled alone with confidence. She was versed enough in battle magic that little could threaten her, and she needed no companions. Her loyal knight Carmilla must remain behind to oversee the affairs of the clan. Perle, though. She would miss - [i]don't think about her. There's no use.[/i] Still, at the very least, Perle sustained her. Without the skydancer healer around, Gracewing would have to find [i]other[/i] sources of nourishment. Soaring on the uplifting breezes of the Wind territory, she drew near to the spot that they had agreed on with Clan Fletching. Below, Gracewing spotted a pink skydancer male and angled her descent towards him. She landed gracefully on the front steps of the broken palace, casting her gaze about at the wreckage around her. [i]Well, I fantasized about destroying a clan, but it looks like someone has beat me to it here.[/i] "Hail and well met," she greeted the Arcane representative. Her voice was perfectly composed, her accent posh, and she looked him up and down with a sidelong eye and an air of appraisal. You could never tell whether Gracewing was flirting with you, and you could only hope that she wasn't. "I am Lady Gracewing, Skylord of House Shatterblood, emissary from Clan Wanderlost of the Arcane lands. To whom do I owe the honor?"

@Kassiel

Gwydion's heart kickstarted at the sight of the other skydancer. He suddenly felt very inadequate, even with the rich crimson silks cascading over his back and the lace roses braided into his mane. Something about her made the familiar feelings of anxious dysphoria twist in his chest, but he swallowed and bowed his head, forcing a polite smile onto his face.

"Lady Gracewing, welcome. I am Gwydion, Fletching's Arcane representative. Ah... the Queen will meet with you shortly, after... after she finishes her current affairs. I was sent to greet you and get you acquainted with the--"

The sound of arguing voices from within the courtyard interrupted him. Stuttering to a halt, he twisted around to look inside the massive opal doors. One was still hanging off its hinges--they really needed to get that fixed. He thought that he could see Belenus' back around the corner.

"... now, she needs to see this, even you should know that..."

"We cannot respond to threats so rashly, Whisper."

"We shouldn't have put them in the dungeons so rashly!"

Gwydion shuffled his feet. "My apologies," he mumbled over the commotion, trying to bring himself to look Gracewing in the eyes again. "I'm not sure what's going on. But we have your rooms prepared, or if you would rather wait in the Queen's..."

"I'm going to the dungeons right now whether you approve or--!"

A shriek echoed from within the palace.

"Get off of me!"

Exasperated and more than a little afraid, Gwydion looked apologetically at Gracewing before poking his head through the door, ready to offer a warning of the newcomer. His eyes widened as he saw Belenus with Whisper pinned and struggling on the cracked tile floor, while Fynzel looked on with an amused tilt to his head.

"What is going on?" he asked, flabbergasted.

Belenus didn't let Whisper up. "Word just arrived that the Gladehavens are threatening to break our alliance if Ikelos isn't released from the dungeons."

@Fletcher

Gracewing only arched a cold, aristocratic eyebrow when the newcomers arrived, and said nothing throughout their heated exchange. Things in Clan Fletching were far more chaotic than she had imagined. A brewing fight in the entry hall, in front of an honored guest of another flight? This would never fly in Clan Wanderlost, land of glamours and intrigue and courtly danger, where words dripped like poisoned honey and grievances festered in the darkness. If a Shatterblood dragon had embarrassed the Clan like this, Gracewing would have had their throat.

But this was not her house or her court. She had heard of them somehow, somewhere, and vaguely recognized them as dragons of the Council of the Suns. Their political position reminded her of the Skylords of Wanderlost. In rank and title, they seemed to be her equals. In terms of wit? She would have to see. Perhaps they were not as oafish as they seemed. But still, what a strange first impression.

Gracewing was superficially familiar with the situation involving Amdiffyn, Ikelos, and their children. She inclined her head in polite greeting to each the new arrivals. "I would prefer to see Her Majesty, as soon as possible," she said with a faint air of amusement, in answer to Gwydion's query. "If dragons in leadership are prone to fight, perhaps I should fear for my safety. I should like to at least meet with Queen Amdiffyn before someone tackles me to the ground."

Her tone was playful, but there was a subtle bite to her words all the same. Wanderlost was known for its magic and for its decadent politics, and a dragon who would be Skylord could be no slacker in either department. Gracewing had been talking the talk for years now. She could play the game with the best of them.

@Kassiel

((I'm so sorry for taking so long to reply. Some crap went down again with the issue I told you about, but I think everything is finally resolved. <3

I also noticed as I was writing this that I have so many characters while you only have Gracewing, so if you want to retcon somebody to have come with her, that's fine with me!))

-

Shock crossed Belenus' face, but Fynzel barked a high-pitched laugh.

"Lady Gracewing, your reputation precedes you," he said, bowing while Belenus stepped away from Whisper, his wings shaking. The skydancer turned without another word and stormed out of the room. Whisper got to her feet, clutching the letter in her hand with her head held high.

Gwydion felt himself shriveling with embarrassment, but Fynzel seemed to take it all in stride. He tapped his claws on his mask.

"Shall we take a jaunt to the Fletching Clan dungeons with the leader of Wanderlost? How quaint," he said, and Gwydion could hear his smile.

Whisper gave a polite nod, obviously not in her element, before turning and leading the small party through the winding halls of the palace. Gwydion tried his best to introduce the various sections of the palace, but his voice was dying in his throat even as he spoke. Eventually he just gave up, and padded silently behind the austere figure, wondering what he had ever done to deserve the shame. Fynzel disappeared somewhere along the way, much to the skydancer's chagrin.

The door to the dungeon was strangely unguarded, missing Vajra at her usual post. Inside, a short spiral staircase led the group down to a set of cells. The bars were wrought with black steel, and the place was lit only with a set of spindly silver candelabras on the walls. Queen Amdiffyn turned to look at them as they came in, and upon seeing Lady Gracewing, she stiffened and stood even straighter than she usually did. She took a step away from the cell where her mate and daughter sat. While Ikelos was pressed to the bars, Ankarea sat back against the wall, the very picture of fading beauty. Her dark eyes followed them as they entered.

"The illustrious Lady Gracewing," said Amdiffyn, cutting a bow just low enough to be polite, but not so low as to place herself below the visitor. "What a place to meet my ally." She didn't smile, but her voice was light.

@Fletcher

(It's nice to hear from you again! I'm sorry for also taking a heckin long time, I've been really busy IRL these last few weeks :P College is back in session!

Also, don't worry, I'm completely fine with just using Gracewing! It's probably easier this way since it would actually take me longer to RP two characters.)


Gracewing simply folded her wings neatly and followed her guides as they led her through the halls of the palace, the very image of composed nobility. Although she did not show it, she paid careful attention to Gwydion as he described various parts of the palace, and was inwardly disappointed when he fell silent. She wanted to know more. She was a stranger to this place, and if the Arcane had taught her anything, it was that knowledge was power.

Still, she filed everything he said away in her mind. Beneath her nonchalant demeanor, she was also paying careful attention to the route that they took through the palace. She did not expect to be truly threatened, or for things in Fletching to devolve into anarchy - but still, one never knew when one would have to beat a hasty retreat.

Descending into the dungeons, she felt Amdiffyn's presence before the two dragonesses even laid eyes on one another. Gracewing was a bloodmage, a powerful creature of fantastic tastes, who could draw magic from others through their blood. And oh, there was magic - dark, powerful - beating in Amdiffyn's veins. In Ankarea's too, though diluted by a generation. She could smell it.

Gracewing felt an all too familiar thirst ignite in her throat, and her eyes took on a strange gleam. It had been long since she'd last seen Perle. Almost too long. Almost.

"Hail, Queen Amdiffyn." She bowed in response and smiled - bright-eyed, sharp-toothed, a hint of fang showing - a strange smile that wasn't quite human. "I wish that we met in less trying times for your people. But Wanderlost honors you, and our alliance, for I have been sent to help. May Clan Fletching rise again, stronger and more prosperous than ever before."

Like most political pleasantries, it sounded grand but was meant little. At any rate, nothing she said was a lie. Gracewing had indeed been sent to help. Whether she would actually help was entirely up to her, and remained still to be seen.

"And you must be Ikelos, and Ankarea." Gracewing turned and her eyes swept over the male. His blood was common and did not much interest her. But her gaze lingered on the figure of the violet pearlcatcher huddled at the back of the cell. "Greetings to the both of you, your highnesses."

@Kassiel ((No worries! We can work on this slowly between homework, ahaha
Apologies if this part is a little unpolished or confusing, it's terribly late where I am))

Ankarea sat up, unaware of the way her tail swished along the floor, back and forth, betraying her anxiety. She had never seen so many dragons in her cell--most of them she had never even met before. And she couldn't decide whether she liked or hated the way that this powerful skydancer--a foreigner?--looked at her. She watched the crimson-and-white dragon carefully, sensing the raw energy she exuded. I'm not a "highness," she wanted to hiss, but the pregnant silence following Gracewing's purrs said it well enough for her.

Finally, with a bit of shuffling and clearing of her throat, Whisper withdrew a now-crumpled set of papers she had tucked under her wing.

"This is the reason why we invaded your privacy, my Queen," she said quietly, holding them up. She glanced at Gracewing before continuing. "The Gladehavens threaten to break our alliance if Ikelos isn't released from the dungeons."

The atmosphere in the room shifted dizzyingly as the two prisoners shifted, looking up at Amdiffyn. The Queen stood with her back straight as ever, no flicker of hope or fear crossing her expression.

"This would be best discussed with the Council," she said. "We can call a meeting, but I must first attend to Lady..."

"Three-quarters of the Council already know--"

"What does it say about me?"

Ankarea's quiet voice somehow cut through the commotion, satin but defiant. She held her chin up as all heads in the room turned to look at her--and she glared directly at her mother. "What does it say about me?" she repeated. "Does Gladehaven care if Ikelos' daughter remains in prison to rot for crimes she had no part in?"

Just as Amdiffyn's carefully-kept guise of calm began to break, a sharp voice interrupted them all.

"What is the meaning of this?"

Half the room jumped at the volume. At the top of the stairs, Vajra, the Lightning representative and head guard, cut a fearful silhouette against the light spilling in from the dungeon doorway. Fynzel's laughing eyes peeked out from under her outspread wings.

"This is unacceptable. Only the Queen was permitted in here. All of you must leave. Now."

Gwydion was the first to obey, scampering up the stairs to disappear into the library, leaving Gracewing in the hands of more authoritative dragons. Vajra glared Amdiffyn out of the dungeon too. The massive ridgeback gave no notice of Gracewing, seeing her out with the rest before she planted herself in front of the dungeon door.

"After whatever politics you must attend to, my Queen, please send Fynzel to me for reprimand," the ridgeback growled after them. The masked coatl had already made his escape, presumably aware of the trouble he would be in for distracting the guard and letting the party into the dungeon.

The Queen left Whisper to regroup the Council before leading Gracewing up the tight spiral staircase to the floor of the palace which housed the living quarters and sitting rooms. "I am sorry that your first moments at Clan Fletching came to pass this way," she said, now returned to her formal mannerisms. "I will make certain that your first impression will not be the precedent for the remainder of your stay here. Now, would you care for tea in my chambers? Or would you prefer to get settled in your own accommodations?"

The skydancer didn't like leaving the timing of the decision on the Gladehavens up to a foreign ambassador... but she also wanted to make certain that Gracewing saw that she was not so ruled by her emotions that she would put off such an important visitor for the sake of her consort.