Ylena Returns to Kaitain

["Vdot Mail" <emessina@vdot.net>]

SCENE: Prepararing for the Fete, Baron Boris, na-Baron Andrei, Lord Laadislas, and Oberkapitan Jakkar socialize in the Baron's Study. Andrei has just arrived on Kaitain.

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Baron's Study -- Harkonnen Embassy (Kaitain)(#533RntJu)

The Baron's study is a circular, high-vaulted room with a sunken floor. Tall metaglass windows, showing the skyline of Kaitain city, are angled into the southern wall. The floors are tiled in deep green Grumman marble; the walls paneled in rich, dark fogwood with silver ram's-head motifs. The Baron's massive desk stands along the wall near the windows. Installed next to the desk is a huge, floor-to-ceiling solido tank, showing the domains of Harkonnen space. A set of high-backed chairs are arranged in the center of the chamber.

Players:

Andrei Jakkar

Klevek

Exits:

Sliding Doors <N> leads to Gallery of Portraits -- Harkonnen Embassy (Kaitain)

Laadislas looks to Jakkar with an inquisitive stare.

A long moment passes when the Baron stares at his son.

Jakkar moves closer to the pair, placing his hand lightly on the hilt of his kindjal and looking fiercely at the na-Baron.

Laadislas seems offended by Jakkar's ignorance of his questioning.

Finally, Boris throws back his head and roars in laughter, opening his arms to Andrei. "Andrei! Come here, my boy! A hug for your father, eh?" he bellows, laughing wildly.

Laadislas gives the na-Baron the smallest smirk of victory.

Laadislas looks defeated.

Jakkar moves away from the two, easing his posture slightly.

Laadislas moves to the Baron.

Laadislas says, "Will you need my counsel further, Lord?"

Andrei bows his head lightly and murmurs:smiles, and slowly moves to embrace his father. "Father. It is.. Good, to be home again, yes? You'll be having a fete for my devil of an aunt, will you?" Laughing he embraces his father. "When I met her last, she was at a fete for my birthday! A good coincidence, eh?"

Boris snaps at Laadislas, "Wait a bloody moment, Laadislas! I've not seen my son in months, eh? Let us get reacquainted, eh?"

Jakkar smirks at the na-Baron's wit.

Laadislas bows and says in a monotone, "Of course, Lord."

Boris pats Andrei on the back and steps back. "So what's got all your faces so low, eh? You'd think we had lost a war to the Bajazets, eh?"

Laadislas chuckles softly.

Jakkar shifts his weight and grimaces slightly at the mention of the House losing a war.

Andrei gives a soft snort. "They'll be dogs living on a victory of empires past, but a dream. Let them be crushed by the hammers of time." Shrugging, he motions around the room. "What is with all the new faces, oh my father? efurnishing with Giedi-merchandise, are we?"

Laadislas glares at the na-Baron but not so much that the Baron will noticew.

Jakkar frowns as he is mentioned as "merchandise".

Boris shrugs. "Well, the place was getting empty, what with you gone on your adventures, lad. And I tend to have them killed and replaced at a higher rate than you do, eh?" He roars with laughter, nudging Andrei.

Laadislas gives Jakkar a glance of disgust.

Andrei chuckles merrily, with just a hint of steel to the laugh. He nods his head and says, "You'll never stop to spoil yourself with servants, father. What of your new toy? Now that you've tired of the little girl with the cat?" His voice is pleasant, even friendly, yet somehow its apparent this is an old conversation, argued about ages past between father and son.

Laadislas eyes Klevek and wrinkles his nose.

Boris grins. "She was a lovely thing, eh? She made my loins throb just to look at her!" he shakes his head. "Have you seen the new Courtesan, lad?"

Klevek rises and pads across the room to Laadislas, sniffing at his bootheel.

Andrei gives a soft, quite amused chuckle. "As I was refering to in the first place, father.."

Laadislas does his best to keep satill so his face will not betray his fear of dogs.

Laadislas sneezes loudly.

Laadislas covers his mouth, eyes wide.

The reptile looks up at Laadislas with slitted eyes.

Laadislas says, "Oh, a liz....excuse me Baron."

Laadislas bows slightly, relieved.

Boris says, "What a beauty, eh? Hips like liquid velvet. Laadislas, you must try her."

Laadislas says, "I would be honored, my Lord. Thank you."

Laadislas says, "May I pick it up?"

Klevek brushes his scaly hide against Laadislas' leg.

Klevek(#441np)

The Baron's loyal pet kuven is the size and shape of a large, wolf-like dog, covered with black alligator-like scales and a bony ridgeline along the back. Klevek's head is shaped like a spearhead, narrowing to a jaw filled with razor fangs; at the other end wags a viciously barbed tail. Klevek's beady black eyes gleam with malignant intelligence.

Laadislas says, "Hmmm....on second thought, it's a tad large..."

Laadislas is visibly frustrated with himself.

Andrei chuckles softly. "You'd have my cousin dead." Chuckling, he nods his head once. "Yes. In any case father, I'll not weigh heavily on your time. Matters on Giedi are stable, as ever.. And most of our holdings are quite safe from terrorists.. I'll stay tonight, for the fete before I must return.

Laadislas cocks an eyebrow at Andrei.

Boris claps his son's shoulder. "Grand! Grand!" He rubs his hands together.

Laadislas smiles at the Baron.

Laadislas says, "Lord Baron, I must prepare for the fete. May I be excused?"

Boris dismisses Laadislas with a gesture. "Yes, yes, and take that cursed animal with you, since you seem to be so fond of it. He's eaten someone that's given him gas and is quite intolerable!"

Laadislas says, "I shall go, My Lord, but I don't want to take it with me. Perhaps Jakkar would like it. Goodbye."

Jakkar smiles briefly, realizing the beast is something of a competitor for his position.

Laadislas bows deeply to the Baron.

Laadislas walks to the north and passes through the Sliding Doors.

Laadislas has left.

Jakkar glares harshly at Laadislas as he departs.

Lydiah walks in from Gallery of Portraits through the Sliding Doors.

Lydiah has arrived.

Lydiah enters, with a soft ruffling of her robes.

Boris says, "So, let us go and---Eh? Lydiah! Come and greet Andrei, eh?"

Jakkar bows slightly to Lydiah as she arrives.

Andrei turns halfway to greet the newcomering, his eyes narrrowing to slits as he studies her before tipping his head in a greeting.

Lydiah walks in, crying out loud "Cousin Andrei! You're back, I haven't seen you in sooooo long!" She pounces onto Andrei and kisses him on both cheeks.

Lydiah doesn't stop chattering. To Andrei: "So, tell me! You've been off-planet, so Uncle has told me. Which worlds did you visit?"

Andrei laughs softly, gently distansing himself from his blood-relation. "I've been mostly at Giedi. I've been.. Inspecting our house holdings for my father. There has been rumors.." He shrugs lightly. "No matter. But what does matter is all that the beloved family, minus my most annoying siblings are gathered for a fete, dedicated to that devil of a woman named my aunt, eh?"

Laadislas walks in from Gallery of Portraits through the Sliding Doors.

Laadislas has arrived.

Lydiah giggles, and adds "Giedi Prime, what a boring place! Although Uncle's palace at Harko isn't too bad." Turning to her uncle she says "Hello, Uncle, how are you today?"

Boris says, "Your uncles's hungry, niece! So let's stop all this chattering and go down to dinner, eh?"

Laadislas smiles heartily.

Andrei gives a nod of agreement.

Jakkar whispers, "A short word before we begin my Lord Baron?"

Throughout the Harkonnen Embassy, a mighty chime rings. Dinner is served in the Dining Hall!

Lydiah nods, and walks towards Laadislas.

Laadislas says, "Yes, my Lady?"

You mutter to Jakkar, "Eh? A word? It's dinner, Jakkar! Oh, very well, it had better be good."

Jakkar whispers, "Is there anything I should know to better protect my Lord Baron?"

Lydiah curtsies. "Hello, m'Lord. I seem to remember you. Aren't you one of our cousins?"

Boris blinks as he hisses at Jakkar. "That's your job to know, isn't it, lad?""

Laadislas bows and smiles. "Why yes, m'Lady. How may I be of service to you?

Jakkar whispers, "I know not everything which takes place within our House. I simply wish to protect my Lord Baron as well as one possibly can."

Lydiah giggles. "Oh, none, I was just wondering." Turning to the others, "I am hungry too! Dinner time!" She runs for the door.

Lydiah walks to the north and passes through the Sliding Doors.

Lydiah walks out, her footsteps faintly heard.

Lydiah has left.

Laadislas walks to the north and passes through the Sliding Doors.

Laadislas has left.

You mutter to Jakkar, "Then you'd best find out as best you can, Jakkar, or we will find someone who can, eh? See to Lydiah and Ylena this evening."

Jakkar whispers, "Yes my Lord Baron."

Jakkar bows deeply, leaving the room.

Jakkar walks to the north and passes through the Sliding Doors.

Jakkar has left.

You walk through the Sliding Doors.

Klevek> Boris has left.

Gallery of Portraits -- Harkonnen Embassy (Kaitain)(#530RntA)

This long, steeply curving corridor has walls of scarlet marble shot with deeper red veins. Along each wall are solido portraits of dozens of illustrious Harkonnens from the past millenia. Each one is larger than life, leering, almost grotesque in its realism. Here you will see the visages of the first Harkonnen, Obeshev, the Bashar Abulurd, the pious Vasilii IV, the bloodthirsty Pimen Harkonnen-Rabban, the frail Petr III, the dashing Andrei, the wise Irina, and the most un-Harkonnen Dmitri IV.

Exits:

Green Doors <NE> leads to Silver Suite -- Harkonnen Embassy (Kaitain)

Wooden Doors <E> leads to Marble Suite -- Harkonnen Embassy (Kaitain)

Bronze Doors <W> leads to Heir's Suite -- Harkonnen Embassy (Kaitain)

Sliding Doors <S> leads to Baron's Study -- Harkonnen Embassy (Kaitain)

Metaglass Door <N> leads to Obeshev Landing -- Harkonnen Embassy (Kaitain)

You walk through the Metaglass Door.

Obeshev Landing -- Harkonnen Embassy (Kaitain)(#527Rant)

This broad circular landing gives access to the noble residences beyond. The white marble floor and walls, trimmed with gold, are kept spotlessly clean. Uniformed Harkonnen guards stand at attention and check the credentials of anyone passing through.

Exits:

Golden Door <N> leads to Solarium -- Harkonnen Embassy (Kaitain)

Suspensor Lift <U> leads to Ornithopter Pad -- Harkonnen Embassy (Kaitain)

Metaglass Door <S> leads to Gallery of Portraits -- Harkonnen Embassy (Kaitain)

Grand Staircase <D> leads to Giedi Hall -- Harkonnen Embassy (Kaitain)

You descend the Grand Staircase.

Giedi Hall -- Harkonnen Embassy (Kaitain)(#492RantJ)

Every square inch of this huge domed hall is decorated in baroque, almost obscenely gaudy detail, displaying the vast Harkonnen wealth. The high walls defy description, as far as the eye can see a dizzying patchwork of gold, silver, ivory and brass in scales, chevrons and circles. The floor tiles form an intricate, seemingly random spiraling pattern in azure and teal. Statuary depicting Harkonnen victories stand in niches lit by floating glowglobes high overhead, glowering down at you. In the very center of the vaulted ceiling far overhead is an irregularly shaped skylight.

Exits:

Grand Staircase <U> leads to Obeshev Landing -- Harkonnen Embassy (Kaitain)

Translucent Doors <W> leads to Librariat -- Harkonnen Embassy (Kaitain)

Spiral Stairs <D> leads to Abulurd Landing -- Harkonnen Embassy (Kaitain)

Ivory Doors <S> leads to Salon -- Harkonnen Embassy (Kaitain)

Burnished Doors <N> leads to Garden of Bitterblooms -- Harkonnen Embassy (Kaitain)

The twin slave girls hold the ivory doors open for you as you enter.

Salon -- Harkonnen Embassy (Kaitain)(#497Rt)

A long, low-ceilinged room, lit by freefloating suspensor lamps. In the very center of the room bubbles a small indoor fountain.The walls are paneled in comfortable dark woods. There are a variety of tables scattered about the room, promoting conversation and relaxation. Smoke usually fills the air. A low dais, accessible by a short flight of stairs, runs along the eastern wall, with more tables up there. Along the western wall is a sideboard, where Keffi waits to make guests comfortable.

Players:

Boris

Exits:

Sloping Tunnel <D> leads to Arena Grandstand -- Harkonnen Embassy (Kaitain)

Embellished Portal <S> leads to Dining Hall -- Harkonnen Embassy (Kaitain)

Ivory Doors <N> leads to Giedi Hall -- Harkonnen Embassy (Kaitain)

Keffi glances up and curtsies to Boris. "Good evening, my Lord Baron! One large goblet of wine coming right up."

You walk through the Embellished Portal.

Dining Hall -- Harkonnen Embassy (Kaitain)(#501Rat)

Gargoyles with oddly human faces decorate the walls of this room, which are covered with pink marble shot with black veins. This room's centerpiece is long carved table made of highly-polished mahogany. High-backed suspensor chairs surround the table. Hanging low over the table are three immense chandeliers of ornate design, each throwing off flickering light from a hundred tiny glowglobes.

A huge oval metaglass window in the southern wall gives a view of the arena beyond.

Players:

Boris Lydiah (table)

Jakkar Zelaria

Laadislas

Exits:

Embellished Portal <N> leads to Salon -- Harkonnen Embassy (Kaitain)

Jakkar flushes momentarily, "Pardon my manners my Lady." the Oberkapitan gets out of his seat, greeting the Baron as he arrives.

Boris bustles into the room, scanning the set table. "I am quite famished, eh? Well, well, it's good to see you all, quite good."

Jakkar moves easily towards the Baron, standing still as a statue beside him.

Laadislas says, "Excuse my sudden departure."

Lydiah ponders to think.

Zelaria slips to her feet quickly, smoothly from her spot at the table as the

Baron enters. She performs a deep curtsy, looking at him through her lashes. The smile that slips across her lips is full and warm as she breaths softly, "My Lord Baron."

Laadislas stands to the Baron and flutters his velvet robes extravagantly. "My Lord Baron.

Boris reaches his hand to Zelaria. "And you, you radiant creature you. I'll be expecting you later, eh?" he chuckles.

In the arena, Tiko enters the sandy floor of the Arena.

Zelaria rises, her hand slipped into the Baron's as she murmurs huskily, "You may be certain I will be there for your pleasure, my Lord Baron."

In the arena, the crowds in the stands stir and begin hooting wildly.

Jakkar looks about uneasily, hearing the sounds of coming battle echoing from the Arena.

Boris chuckles. "Pleasure, yes." he bellows.

You sit in one of the iron chairs at the Dining Table.

Lydiah sighs. "Oh, not one of these fights again...."

Zelaria sits down at the Dining Table.

Zelaria sinks back into her seat after the Baron does, her dark gaze unwaveringly fastened on him as she does so.

Zelaria just looked at you.

Laadislas says, "Ladies and Gentlemen, I must depart now, but only for a moment. I will be back soon."

Jakkar moves towards the table, taking a seat quietly and looking about the table.

Slaves begin rolling out carts of food, serving it up in huge crockery dishes that are more bowls than plates. First course is a greasy-looking black soup with chunks of meat floating in it.

Boris scowls at Lydiah. "Niece, do learn to enjoy it, eh? You'd think a little bloodshed would be exciting!"

Jakkar sits down at the Dining Table.

Lydiah, taking her spoon, answers her uncle. "You know what I think of it. Such good meat wasted that could be of use for work or pleasure."

Jakkar looks at Lydiah pointedly, a flash of surprise visible in his eyes.

Zelaria's attention turns to the combat now, though her head remains cocked in the direction of the Baron. Her smile of pleasure deepens, lips parting on an indrawn breath as she watches the fight. One fingertip circles the rim of the soup bowl placed before her.

Boris points out the window. "What, all that? If it's pleasure you want, I'll make a gift of one of those gladiators, girl! With their agility and endurance, I doubt you'd find much to complain of..."

Lydiah sighs again. "Sure, Uncle, if you like." She starts eating her soup.

Jakkar begins work on his soup with a detatched manner, keeping an eye on all at table.

Filarion walks in from Salon through the Embellished Portal.

Filarion has arrived.

In the arena, Tiko, the Embassy combat trainer, stalks to the center of the Arena. His reedy voice rings out over the sands. "Honored Baron! Lords and Ladies of Harkonnen! Guests! We welcome you to this evening's entertainment! The first bout--a warrior of Chakramurthi against a starved kuven!"

Laadislas sits down at the Dining Table.

Boris shakes his head. "Laadislass, have you ever heard of such an impertinent girl? She will surely be the death of me."

Laadislas laughs heartily. "Yes, Baron, ha ha."

Lydiah smiles at Boris and Laadislas, before gulping a spoonful of soup.

Zelaria's eyes widen at the announcement and she shifts to lean forwards in her chair, a hand resting just beneath her throat and fingers stroking lightly, absently. The index finger of her other hand dips into the soup and then lifts to her lips.

Lydiah shoots a quick look at Zelaria's doing, and stares at her soup.

Hands clasped behind his back the Count Filarion enters, a somewhat bored expression portrayed on his face. "G'd eve, My Lord Baron" he states with a bow towards the Baron, eyeing the others present briefly. Finally the man takes a few steps towards the table, pulling out a chair with his left, the right hand still behind his back.

Laadislas stares at Zelaria, somewhat amused.

Boris glowers at Laadislas. "You'd like to see me dead, cosuin?"

Jakkar's eyes move over Zelaria momentarily, whereupon he returns to his half-full soup.

Lydiah nods to Filarion, as he walks in, and dips her fingers in her soup, in imitation of Zelaria.

Laadislas smiles slightly. "Of course not, My Baron. My life would be emptiness."

Lydiah starts licking her fingers, and gives Zelaria a warm smile.

In the arena, The trainer backs away, and the warrior marches in. He is armed with a kindjal and body shield, but is otherwise unarmored. His skin and hair are dark like the natives of Chakramurthi. The warrior raises his sword and salutes those in the dining hall.

Laadislas starts to eat his soup, then looks up at the warrior.

Jakkar shakes his head slightly as his gaze meets that of the warrior.

Boris smirks at Laadislaas. "Oh, come. Emptiness? With all your hobbies?"

Quite an amusing gathering, though Filarion seems somewhat obvlivious of the moods of those around him. Carefully seating himself, the young Count tries to take in the situation, his brow quipped. "I am not interrupting... something, yes?" he inquires sarcastically, picking up a goblet of red wine he is offered by a slave.

Filarion sits down at the Dining Table.

Boris says, "Filarion! Do sit, eh? Have you met everyone, my boy?"

Zelaria glances towards Lydiah and casts the young woman an answering, smooth smile. Her gaze runs over Lydiah, speculative, and one brow arches as she bites on the tip of her finger, winking to Lydiah. Filarion's entrance draws his attention then, though, and she fixes him with a curious, almost hungry stare.

Laadislas smiles. "But Baron, all my hobbies revolve around you. It seems your son has given me the new hobby of leading him all over the embassy."

Lydiah raises her eyebrows, blushes, and returns her attention to her soup.

"Ah, at least that's a useful hobby, I've heard of worse." Filarion is quick to comment, raising his glass into Laadislas' direction with a thin smile.

In the arena, the Chakra warrior assumes a fighting stance. Far across the sandy circle, a portcullis raises and out pads a huge, muscular kuven, perhaps 200 kilos of pure savage reptilian power. The crowd roars its approval.

Laadislas raises his glass back, smiling dryly.

Boris says, "Aye, good thing he doesn't give you a hobby like jumping off the Embassy roof, eh?"

Jakkar keeps his eyes movement away from the large window to the arena bitterly.

Jakkar chuckles at the Baron's wit.

Laadislas smiles. "do you plan to tell him to do that, Baron?

"And My Baron, indeed I think I have at least read about the illustrous characters assembled tonight." the Count adds, leaning back in his chair as he has a good sip of the wine, eyes still darting back and forth between those seated.

Zelaria's regard slips along Filarion, appreciation glowing in her eyes as her lips curve in a welcoming smile.

In the arena, the animal and the gladiator square off, the reptile snarling its rage at the man, the man waving his sword in defiance.

Lydiah shoots a glance at Zelaria, then to Filarion, then back to Zelaria, while still eating her soup.

Laadislas rolls his eyes in the direction of the warrior. "The futility."

Slaves pour copious goblets of Giedi Red, making sure no glasses are ever left unfilled.

Laadislas says, "Ahh, finally."

Boris tucks into his soup, gulping it down hungrily, soaking it up with slabs of black bread. All of it disappears down his maw.

Laadislas drinks eagerly.

Laadislas eats his soup slowly, savoring each loud slurp.

Zelaria's eyes drift to her soup, but quickly move away and back to the arena. A glitter of anticipation darkens her gaze as she watches the lone man against the beast. Her fingers leave off their stroking at her throat to capture her wine goblet and hold it lazily.

Jakkar sips at his wine, gazing momentarily into Zelaria's eyes.

Larkov walks in from Salon through the Embellished Portal.

Larkov has arrived.

Not even remotely paying attention to the event in the arena, Filarion now regards his newly served soup, probingly stirring the food with his spoon. Finally, the man shrugs and starts consuming the precious food. Raising his head and lowering the spoon as the warmaster enters, the count bows his head slightly in greeting.

Laadislas says, "Good evening, m'Lord"

Larkov steps into the Dining Hall, his everpresent frown worn like a mask. He silently walks over to the table and bows formally before his Baron. "Forgive my tardiness, my lord. The transport from Helman ran late."

Boris says, "Larkov! Do join us, eh? Have some of this soup, eh?"

Zelaria's attention turns to the person walking through the door, and upon him her gaze narrows in speculation. She takes a sip of her wine, watching him over the rim with cool, intent regard.

Ylena walks in from Salon through the Embellished Portal.

Ylena has arrived.

Larkov sits down at the Dining Table.

Laadislas stands and bows grandly.

Laadislas says, "My Lady, such a pleasure, My Lady!"

Lydiah smiles brightly as Ylena walks in. "Aunt Ylena! I'm so happy to see you!"

Zelaria leaves off her study of Larkov to note the arrival of Ylena, and she immediately rises to perform the appropriate obesience to the woman.

A smile curls Count Lankiveil's lips as he bows his head from his place at the table, "A pleasure as always, M'Lady"

Jakkar gets out of his seat cooly, bowing deeply to Ylena. He retakes his seat as the woman nods in his direction.

Larkov accepts a small bowl of the soup and gives a look to the woman who enters. He doesn't say anything immediately, rather gauging her appearance.

A whisper of silk pressages the stately Countess' arrival. Kid soled slippers tap softly across the floor, a steady tattoo of elegant rythm, rising to echo off of the chamber's wall. With a natural, measured grace, she sweeps into a deep, courtly curtsy, eyes downcast, a small smile curving at the corners of her lips. "Well met, Brother, My Lords, and Ladies, well meet this merry eve!"

Boris rises to embrace Ylena. "Sister!" he roars, happily, madly. "What a merry eve indeed!"

Laadislas sits, smilling at the Baron fondly.

Zelaria straightens, a warm smile playing about her lips as she looks to Ylena and reclaimes her seat.

In the arena, the battle rages on, the kuven slashing at the man with its claws, dripping venom from its fangs. The Chakra struggles for his life, his only defenses his wits and his small shield.

Larkov looks downward at the kuven and the Chakra and smiles, "How interesting. I used to know a kuven handler. I wonder if I might have a go at taming the beast."

Jakkar looks up at the Warmaster's statement. "My grandmother taught me in the ways of beast breeding and taming, perhaps I could be of use to you in this endeavor?"

Laadislas says, "But we would all miss you so badly."

Laadislas says, "That is, if you were to fail."

Lydiah shivers. "Ooooh, I wouldn't even think of it..."

Boris calls out, "Unless that fellow cuts him to pieces, eh? I'll wager a thousand solaris on the man, eh? Who's against me!"

Slaves pour copious goblets of Giedi Red, making sure no glasses are ever left unfilled.

Zelaria's eyes turn from Jakkar to Laadislas in turn, the warm smile on her lips undiminished at the polite conversation.

Laadislas returns the smile.

Laadislas says, "Do I amuse you, My Lady?"

Zelaria arches a delicate brow, her goblet held before her lightly while the fingers of her other hand stroke the stem. "My Lord," she says in a rich, musical tone. "I always am fascinated watching the dealings of such a prominent figure as yourself."

Laadislas smiles gratefully. He wipes his mouth delicately and leans over the table when he looks at Zelaria. "Why, thank you, my lady, but you needn't flatter me."

Jakkar whispers to Laadislas.

Boris says, "What, will no one take my wager? Lady Zelaria, how about you?"

Boris reseats himself, chuckling.

Laadislas sticks his nos in the air, looks at Jakkar, and harrumphs snobbishly, going back to his wine.

Zelaria's attention centers on the Baron and she replies with a fierce smile, "Your bet is taken, my Lord Baron. I will enjoy my profits."

In the arena, the kuven tags the warrior, opening up his upper thigh, spilling crimson blood on the sandy floor. The crowd shrieks! Blood!

Boris makes a fist and raps it on the table. "Splendid!"

Sweeping agily to her feet, Ylena returns the embrace full force, glee twinkling in the violet of her eyes. "My Lord Brother, too long, once again have I been parted from Thee and Thine. Now I truly again feel home." As slender fingers snap, a slave rushes forward to deposit a glass of Geidi Red firmly in the Countess' waiting hand.

Laadislas smirks. "Wasteful, but thoroughly amusing.

Jakkar grins, surprisingly enough. "I wish your credits a good home in our Lord Baron's purse my Lady."

Larkov looks down and chuckles, "The poor fool. A pity the beast wasn't set before a true warrior."

Leaving his food as it is, Filarion leans back in his chair, a hand reaching to idly touch the pendant he wears around his neck. Outlining the lightning bolt with his index finger, the Count listens quietly, while not actively taking part in the conversation.

Zelaria lifts her glass towards the Baron, her smile salacious once more. Sideways to Jakkar, "I believe in high stakes, Lord Jakkar. If one is unwilling to risk, what reward can one hope for?'

Laadislas says, "You speak too soon, my Lord. If the fool is not a warrior, then shouldn't he die disgracefully? The beast is proud. Animalisically though."

In the arena, the Chakramurthian staggers slightly, from blood loss, scrambling away from the beast at the last second. He seems stunned, a little unfocused.

Laadislas says, "At least he does not writhe with pain. Not that that wouldn't be pleasurable for me to watch, though, of course. And My Lord Baron."

Ylena turns her eyes and her smile to the Count of Lankeveil, her voice touched somewhat with light amusement, and also with genuine warmth. "My good Count, how does life find you these past days, it has been too long since I have enjoyed My Lord's company.

Jakkar looks at all those dining, his eyes lingering on Zelaria and Laadislas for particularly long. "Tis' a shame Master Alexi is not present for this fete, logic is often a rather rare necessity in the revels of celebration."

As a slave pours the wine into Lydiah's glass, a few drops splash out and stain her dress. Speechless, she turns red with fury while the slave recoils. "You offspring of a rat, you. I'll kill you!", she blares, "Uncle! This slave has ruined my dress! It's useless!"

Laadislas mutters, "The fool."

Jakkar stands abruptly, drawing his kindjal and looking towards the Baron.

Laadislas looks to Lydiah and nods.

Lydiah wails "Feed it to the kuven!"

Ylena raises an eye in Lydiah's direction, her thin lips pursed into a set line.

Boris raises a bushy brow. "Eh? Jakkar, take this one out and deal with him, eh? And find another slave to clean my niece's dress."

Zelaria casts the slave a cold look of disdain before turning her attention back to the combat in the arena. She leans forwards once more, on the edge of her chair as she watches the blood and desperation with glittering eyes and a small smile.

Larkov smiles and withdraws a small blade and slides it across the table to Ylena, "Would my lady care to have the honors?" Upon hearing the Baron however, he frowns and motions for a slave to retrieve his blade.

Jakkar chuckles frighteningly, grabbing the slave's stringy arm brutally and dragging him out of the room.

Jakkar walks to the north and passes through the Embellished Portal.

Jakkar has left.

Laadislas clucks his tongue and smirks as the slave as he is led out.

In the arena, the kuven gathers its legs under itself and launches itself at the man. The warrior tries to get up his sword, but he's dizzy, stunned. The beast slams into him and with a quick crunch of its jaws, it's over. The kuven lifts its massive head and howls in triumph, gore running down its chin and chest.

Jakkar walks in from Salon through the Embellished Portal.

Jakkar has arrived.

Boris says, "Damn!"

Laadislas jerks his head sharply towards the baron, clutching his hands together and frowning.

The slightest shiver runs up the Countess' spine, hidden mostly by her rigid and concealing gown. With an askance glance at her Neice, she turns to her Brother, replying in a soft voice, "Must we sully so happy an occasion with the messiness of a slave's death?"

Lydiah, cursing, stands up and walks towards the dining hall's portal. "I will get changed, presently. Please excuse me."

After the first commotion about the spilled wine has settled, Filarion tilts his head towards Ylena with a smile, "It finds me at the desk more often than I would prefer, but alas, the work has to be done. Though what little spare time I can muster, I use to.." The Count turns to survey what happened in the arena that might have sparked the Baron's anger.

Lydiah walks to the north and passes through the Embellished Portal.

Lydiah walks out, her footsteps faintly heard.

Lydiah has left.

The crowd in the Arena roars its approval of the violent death.

Zelaria turns a triumphant grin towards Boris, swirling the wine in her goblet before she takes a drink. "Ah, my Lord Baron, tis always a pleasure to wager with you."

Laadislas says, "A shame that I found that enjoyable."

Jakkar returns, stepping into the room. "The servant my Lord Baron requested should be arriving soon. I apologize for my Lady's inconvenience." The Oberkapitan sheathes his bloodied kindjal and resumes his seat at table.

Jakkar sits down at the Dining Table.

Lydiah walks in from Salon through the Embellished Portal.

Lydiah has arrived.

Lydiah enters, with a soft ruffling of her robes.

The Baron shakes his head. "If he weren't dead, I'd kill him myself! Shame a man can only die once, eh?"

Lydiah sits down at the Dining Table.

Larkov smiles at the beast in admiration. "Now if only my soldiers could kill with such grace. I think I shall make an example. He stands, "Would my Baron be so kind as to allow me to pay him tribute with a glorious arena battle?"

Jakkar raises an eyebrow as he realizes his slaying caused him to miss a glorious finish.

Zelaria's eyes are fixed on the Baron above the rim of her cup, one closing in a wink as she sips her wine.

Boris says, "Ah, Lady Zelaria. There will come another time, eh? What is that tally--I believe you won the last bout we wagered on as well! Is it some witchery you have that lets you see the outcome?"

Ylena twists the fingers of one hand into the voluminous folds of her skirt, then takes a seat at the table, seemingly ignoring the visions and talk of blood.

Laadislas shakes his head in disgust. "That fool could die a thousand deaths and still not enough for that idiot. I wouldn't care to watch, though." He looks to

Lydiah and smiles.

Jakkar's eyes dart quickly to Zelaria as "witchery" is mentioned.

Zelaria's voice rings with satisfaction and lightheard teasing as she replies to the Baron, "Nay, My Lord Baron. I know that you are merely being kind to me since you know how dearly I love to acquire new clothes and... other items for your pleasure."

Lydiah does not return Laadislas's smile. She comments "Incapable things, these slaves. Hah!"

Boris orders Larkov, "Pay tribute to my sister, Warmaster! She's the guest of honor. Tis been too long since we saw you fight."

You mutter to Zelaria, "And you look even better out of them, lady."

Laadislas shakes his head, his smile fading. "If only the capable were slaves and the incapable the noble-born. But that is not meant to be."

In the arena, Handlers net the mighty kuven and haul it away, as it struggles and kicks. The body of the gladiator is dragged off without ceremony as the crowd applauds.

Larkov offers a rare grin and bows to Ylena, "My lady." He steps out of the room and makes his way to the Arena.

Again Ylena raises a perfectly sculpted eyebrow at Lydiah, her eyes unreadable. No words rise from the woman, she sits, in fact, near as still as a statue, except for the intermittent sip of her Geidi Red.

Larkov walks to the north and passes through the Embellished Portal.

Larkov has left.

In the arena, Larkov comes from the Slave Pits.

In the arena, Larkov has arrived.

Laadislas holds his head and sighs. "I'm afraid that I may be suffering from a bit of a headache."

Lydiah returns Ylena's gaze, and tries a faint smile.

Over your communicator's secure frequency, a man's voice says, "Message from vehicle 1792, bound for Harkonnen Embassy, requesting clearance, "Count Cesare requesting clearance." You clear the vehicle over your communicator. Over your communicator's secure frequency, a man's voice says, "Clearance has been granted for vehicle 1792, bound for the Harkonnen Embassy, by Boris."

In the arena, Larkov enters the Arena and removes his cloak. A slave takes it and rushes away from the frowning man. He moves forward to the center of the Arena and bows respectfully to his Lady.

In the arena, Tiko announces the next bout to the crowd.

Jakkar whispers, "Should I tend to our new arrivals?"

In the arena, Tiko says, "We are joined by an illustrious guest! The mighty Warmaster Ivanovich will himself duel in the next match!""

Zelaria smiles enigmatically at the Baron's murmured words to her, her attention going back to the arena a moment later.

Jakkar senses, "Boris nods. Yes, yes."

Cesare walks in from Salon through the Embellished Portal.

Cesare has arrived.

Cesare enters the dining hall, shown in by an attentive servant.

Jakkar glaces in the Baron's direction, shrugging.

Laadislas snaps at one of the slaves. "Get me something to ease this headache, and be quick.

In the arena, Larkov looks around to the crowd and slowly turns, allowing everyone to view him before he duels.

Lydiah stands from the table and curtsies to Cesare.

Boris says, "Cesare! My boy! Come in, come in! We werre just about to move on to the main course, eh?"

In the arena, The crowd applauds the Warmaster. "Larkov! Larkov!" they scream,

Zelaria swivels in her chair, noting the arrival of Cesare with curiousity and watching the Baron's reaction to him. She gives the man a warm smile then.

A soft sigh is audible from Filarion's lips as he is visibly striving to remain quiet at the young Lady's comments. Afterall it is common knowledge that the Count himself has taken it on him to raise a small child, else almost certainly doomed to slavery. "Ah, 'tis a pity that our dear warmaster values his own life so - " Raising from his chair as the Siridar-Count enters, Filarion allows himself a formal bow. "Count Moritani." before he slowly reseats himself.

Boris says, "Do you know everyone?"

Laadislas stands. "I don't believe I have made the Count's acquaintance." He bows.

With measured grace, Ylena rises from her seat, and sweeps into her characteristic curtsy. "My good Count Moritani, I am honored to once again be in My Lord's comany."

Cesare grins genially to Baron and nods to all present, a bit longer notice to the Lady Ylena, "Not all of them, though no doubt I shall quite soon. As is most often the case, your folk become like second family to mine and vice versa, eh?"

Jakkar looks at the Siridar-Count, rising promptly and bowing, "I apologize if that worthless slave's corpse has not yet been removed from our salon."

Zelaria blinks as she studies Cesare for a moment longer, then recognition flickers in her gaze. She flows from her chair into a curtsy, watching Cesare through her lashes as she does so. Watching the large signet ring on his finger.

In the arena, Larkov calls out loudly when he faces the crowd. "Harkonnens! Guests! I dedicate my duel tonight to her Ladyship. The Lady Ylena! May my battle be worthy of her honor and please her tonight in her hour of welcome." Larkov steps to a far wall and removes a long bastard sword, two handed and sporting a wicked blade that gleams.

Jakkar resumes his seat at the table, turning his attention to the Warmaster's situation in the arena.

Ylena seems somewhat indefferent to the goings on of the arena, and focuses her full attention on the Moritani Count. "I hope that My Lord has been well? Again I find I was called away from the bosom of my family here upon Kaitain."

Pushing the bowl of soup dangerously close to the table's edge, Filarion silently watches as it is picked up and quickly carried away by a slave that seemingly only is present to respond to subtle signs like that. Raising a gloved hand to tap a finger onto his chin, the young Count turns his head in order to be rewarded with a better view of the arena.

Zelaria's eyes go half-lidded as she studies Cesare, sinking back to her seat with a liquid movement.

Lydiah was about to speak to Cesare when Ylena started talking. She pauses, and then sits down back at the table.

Cesare grants his most winning grin to the Lady, seating himself as close to her as possible. "I have been doing quite well but more importantly how have you been my dear Lady Ylena? It has been far too long, has it not?"

Cesare sits down at the Dining Table.

In the arena, Tiko announces, "The Warmaster will be duelling a matched triad of gladiators, each armed with spears and shields! The fight shall be to the death!" The crowd hoots at this.

Lydiah sips her wine, aloof, looking at the arena.

Slaves roll out huge pots of boiling oil into the dining hall, the oil rich and fragrant.

Ylena's eyes light up merrily, as her head bobs in agreement, "Aye My good Count, too long I fear. I have been as well as one may be when they are separated from all those they love."

Zelaria casually pushes her bowl to the edge of the table, a subtle gesture, as she leans to her side to watch the battle with anticipation. Her nose crinkles once as she inhales the exotic scent, her form tensing for a moment and then relaxing once more.

The slaves roll out another cart, this one has a wire cage atop it, filled with little chattering marmosets, their eyes wide in terror.

Cesare looks expectantly to the pots and then to Boris. "You're not serving... Oh, Boris! Tell me we are having marmosets!"

In the arena, Larkov watches as the trio of warriors steps into the arena and display their armament. He steps forward to meet them, his blade held to the side, as if daring a gladiator to strike.

In the arena, the trio bows towards where the Baron and his guests sit. Then they bow to Larkov and spread out in a circle around him. Each one turns on his shield, the air hissing and crackling about him.

Jakkar looks cooly in the direction of the arena, seeming strangely uninterested.

Suddenly, a slight palor washes its way across the Countess' face, and she quickly averts her eyes from the pot. She retrieves a napkin from the table and gently dabs at her forhead with it, while taking a hearty draught of her wine.

The problem with those goblets is that they are emptied far too quickly. From out of nowhere, a slave appears to refill Filarion's glass and whoever else might be in need of some more exquisite grapes. Raising his glass towards the 'higher' nobility, consisting of Boris, Cesare and Ylena, the Count's eyes glitter with mirth as he regards the cages. "Ah, always the one to enjoy exotic foods, My Count." he adresses Cesare.

The maitre'd opens the cage and seizes a marmoset in a gloved hand, and lobs it into the boiling oil. The little critter shrieks and goes under in a cloud of steam, kicking its legs and flailing. He tosses three more in, quickly.

Cesare winks towards Count Filarion before dispensing a slightly concearned look to Lady Ylena. "Always my favourite, marmosets. I have always maintained that there is no adventurous a palate as that of the Harkonnen."

Jakkar pays only passing attention to the plight of the small mammals, obviously uninterested.

Laadislas grimaces. "Oh, how....lovely. Heh heh.

In the arena, Larkov flicks his sword up and at the ready, an open smile on his face, taunting the trio to make the first move. He says nothing, and to the trained eye, he is obviously gauging the shield units for weaknesses and flaws, not to mention the gladiators ability to use them well.

Ylena manages a small smile in the direction of the Moritani, then says quietly to her brother, "I fear I have not much of an appetite this even, My Lord." She flicks a quick glance in the direction of the squealing Marmosets and shudders slightly.

The slaves scoop the fried marmosets out of the oil, serving the creatures up to each guest on big platters. Each one is twisted in agony, clearly having died hideously. Added is a little garnish of parsley.

Laadislas says, "Whyever not, My Lady? The dish is ever so appetizing."

In the arena, one warrior rushes Larkov from the front, while the other tries to impale him from behind.

Over your communicator's secure frequency, a man's voice says, "Message from vehicle 1582, bound for Harkonnen Embassy, requesting clearance, "I am Steffan Lear, na-Marquis to House Ginaz requesting clearance to enter the embassay.""

Filarion says something into his communicator. Over your communicator's secure frequency, a man's voice says, "Clearance has been granted for vehicle 1582, bound for the Harkonnen Embassy, by Filarion."

Jakkar says, "Excuse me."

Boris says, "So squeamish, eh? My poor sister, how does she ever put up with us? I think your stay in other houses has made you so, Sister!"

Jakkar walks to the north and passes through the Embellished Portal.

Jakkar has left.

Zelaria tilts her head as she looks down at the marmoset, expression bland. She sips her wine and averts her gaze back to the arena.

Not turning from the arena, the Countess Lydiah calls to the slaves "Give me some of that hot sauce, quick." To the assembled guests, she adds "Marmosets, how lovely. Their bones are so brittle and their flesh so tasty." She shoots a quick glance at the Count Moritani.

Cesare looks with delight at the dish before him and, taking up knife and fork, splits the crisp mammalian flesh from neck to thigh

A bright red stain creeps up Ylena's cheeks and she casts her eyes down into her goblet. "It must have been the Witch's finishing school, my Brother, the sensabilites that is.."

Boris frowns. "I was always against that, you know. I knew nothing good could come of it!"

Lydiah skewers her marmoset with her fork, and proceeds to eat it, crisp fur, bones and all.

Laadislas picks at the marmoset delicately, then takes a small bite. He wrinkles his nose. "Oh, this is (uggh) /so/ delicious. You have such good taste, My Count.

Cesare grants a nod of approval to the Lady Lydiah. "I especially find the eyeballs delicious. They're quite crisp on the outside, but upon biting upon them they split, filling the mouth with the most savoury liquid. Quite delectable."

In the arena, Larkov closes his eyes briefly and inhales to give him a moment of strength before lungeing forward and ducking. He swings his blade out to rake across the gladiator in front's leg. Then sidesliping to the right, he angles his sword to press quickly against the two rear fighter's shields, using the protection of the shield to his advantage and driving the rear fighters back for a moment.

Seemingly not the least worried by the animal's fate, Filarion makes full use of the instruments he is equipped with, namely knife and forth. With almost clinical precision he opens the verily crunshy skin, and uses his fork devour the animal - slowly, but his expression conveys that he's actually surprised that the taste is better than one would expect after that treatment.

Lydiah nods and smiles to the Count Moritani, ostensibly biting one of the aforementioned eyeballs.

Zelaria delicately picks up her fork and knife, sectioning the marmoset with efficient cuts before spearing one morsel and lifting it to her lips. Her eyes are on Cesare as she eats it, half-lidded.

Ylena once again takes a rather large swig from her wine, her eyes carefully averted from the contents of the dining table.

In the arena, the trio are held off by Larkov's dexterity and skill. Shields seem to protect them from Larkov for the moment, the forcefields sparking. They circle again, trying for another opening, to ring him about with spears.

Over your communicator's secure frequency, a man's voice says, "Message from vehicle 1582, bound for Harkonnen Embassy, requesting clearance, "Master Varota inbound on summons from the Lord Baron."" Filarion says something into his communicator. Over your communicator's secure frequency, a man's voice says, "Clearance has been granted for vehicle 1582, bound for the Harkonnen Embassy, by Filarion."

The Baron lifts his own and tears a leg off, munching on the flesh happily.

Cesare eats the flesh of his marmoset with relish, expertly cutting apart through muscles and sinew, intestine and skin.

Ylena immdietly brightens, and sets her goblet down, her hands clapping together with an almost child-like glee. "The Master Varota, here? Dear Brother this is a treat beyond compare!"

Boris says, "I asked him by especially for you, sister! He's on the payroll, as it were."

Steffan walks in from Salon through the Embellished Portal.

Steffan has arrived.

Laadislas sums up as much courage as possible, picks up a lg, and devours it in three bites, then smiles. "Well, this is delightful!"

In the arena, Larkov stands his guard for the moment now, blocking spear thrusts with sword parry's. Waiting for an opening, he takes a swing at one of their spears, attempting to break the weapon with a slice of his sword.

Zelaria consumes the marmoset languidly, savoring it with a smile and a purr of pleasure. She looks towards the arrival, gaze moving slowly up and down him with one brow lifted in catlike curiousity.

Ylena once again rises, then drops into a deep curtsy before the Na-Marquis.

Cesare picks up the marmoset's fried and blackened, though still fluid-filled bladder and flicks it from his fork at the new arrival. "Whoops!" he exclaims even as it hurtles through the air.

Lydiah pulls on the marmoset's stomach with her teeth and starts chewing it. Her eyes widen, and she says, "Oh lovely, they've been fed cherries!"

Laadislas rises, bows stiffly to the na-Marquis.

Bowing his head towards the Ginaz, who enters along with two additional guards that take position strategically placed in the room, Filarion greets the na-Marquis. "My Lord, a pleasure to have you."

The diners are seated about the vast table, eating deep fried marmosets and drinking wine by the liter. A vast array of foodstuffs is piled high on the table before them. Outside a battle rages between Larkov and three gladiators.

Steffan stops for a moment and looks about the hall for a moment. He then nods to those at the table and approaches.

Laadislas says coldly, "Such a pleasure to see you, My Lord."

Lydiah puts her meal down, wipes her mouth, stands up and curties prettily to Steffan.

Steffan nods again to Laadislas and Filarion, "Pardon my tardiness Gentilemen, business at the embassay has delayed me..."

Laadislas says, "Of course, my Lord."

Cesare notes coldly to the Ginaz noble, "Steffan, I have always said that it would be a pleasure to have you for dinner. Thank you for making that fondest of dreams come true."

Zelaria rises from her chair, her obesiance to Steffan smooth and polished. As she straightens, she inhales deeply, slipping back to her chair.

Jakkar walks in from Salon through the Embellished Portal.

Jakkar has arrived.

Boris says, "If it isn't Lord Steffan! Join us, eh? Will you have wine? Perhaps a little blond to help you relax first?"

Varota walks in from Salon through the Embellished Portal.

Varota has arrived.

The diners are seated about the vast table, eating deep fried marmosets and drinking wine by the liter. A vast array of foodstuffs is piled high on the table before them. Outside a battle rages between Larkov and three gladiators.

Lydiah giggles at Cessare's attempt to hit Steffan with the bladder.

Laadislas does not seem to be able to stop staring at Steffan.

Jakkar bows to all present. "Please excuse my absence." After saying this, the Oberkapitan takes his seat back at table.

Jakkar sits down at the Dining Table.

Ylena worries her bottom lip between her teeth, trying to surpress what to her, seems like a very un- Ladylike chuckle.

In the arena, the Warmaster's blade penetrates one shield and the man sinks to the ground. The second one's spear is broken and he tosses both halves away, scrambling for the fallen man's weapon. The crowd goes quite berserk!

Steffan steps up to the table, and only breifly acknowledges the Moritani Count, "I was asked to come here and represent the Ginaz...."

Steffan sits down at the Dining Table.

Curling his lips into a smile, actually one looking pretty honest, the Count of Lankiveil is just about to explore the deeper truths his goblet might whisper to him as Varota, garant of good entertainment makes his entry. Waving a hand in greeting a grin splits on Filarion's lips. "Ah, the master Varota! Greetings!"

Laadislas says, "I'm glad I'm not part of tat damnable rabble."

Boris says, "Varota! Come in, come in, my sister was wondering where the hell you were, eh?"

With a quick glance about the room, Varota steps in to the dining hall. Upon hearing the greetings sent his way, he zeroes in on their origin, and strides straight and sure towards the Baron's table.

Cesare mutters softly around a piece of marmoset, "Not that bloody lute-playing human libido of a lunatic!"

Laadislas smiles at the Count as he finishes off the last of his marmoset.

Zelaria, having only just reclaimed her chair, rises once more at Boris's words to offer a curtsy to Varota, her smile restrained.

Lydiah' gaze falls upon Varota, and she stares at him for a while, before returning her attention to her marmoset.

Before resettling herself in her seat, Ylena bobs a curtsy to the Master musician.

Eyes laughing with amusement upon the constant getting up and sitting down at the table, Filarion extends his arm, only having to wait an instant before a slave is present to refill the empty goblet with Giedie Red again.

In the arena, it would seem that the Warmaster would laugh or even smile at the moment of victory, but his face is only a stony coldness, moving towards the still-armed fighter. He allows the disarmed man to reclaim a weapon and he brings his sword to the ready. He speaks to the slave. "Come....come...fight for your Baron...come..."

Cesare takes his fork and, with other arm crossed in front of his chest, brings it up under and jutting skyward in an obviously obscene gesture. "Varota! How pleasant to see you!" he states in mock ecstasy.

Laadislas pushes his plate, wiped clean, away from himself.

Varota bows deeply, right hand brushing the floor, head down and feet pointed perfectly. He says, a bit loudly, "My magnificent lord and patron, good eve to you."

Lydiah hails for more wine.

A servant runs to Lydiah's service, afraid, and pours her another glass.

Zelaria resumes her chair once more, sliding the plate of the marmoset away from her, mostly consumed. She tilts her head to one side, then the other, watching Varota.

Steffan looks at the plate of food set infront of him, eyes it for a moment. He then cuts off a piece and puts a piece of the marmoset in his mouth.

Laadislas looks up at the servant and smirks.

Boris raps on the skull of his marmoset with a spoon, smashing it open and then dumping the contents of the brainpan into his mouth. Around a mouthful of brains, he says to Varota, "Yes, it's splendid, eh? Come, have a seat." He chews and swallows, with relish. "Everyone, this is the famed balisetist Varota! He's promised a new compostion to us this even, isn't that so, Varota?"

Jakkar begins to work on his cold marmoset without remark.

Laadislas says, "Splendid!"

Lydiah raises her glass. "Hooray for Varota!" She seems quite elated now.

Ylena snaps her fingers for another goblet of Giedi Red which she downs rather hastily, all things considered. Her food, remains, as yet, untouched.

In the arena, one is down and is not moving. The other two exchange a glance and try to spit Larkov, one going high, the other low, their shields blurring their outlines.

Laadislas smiles fondly at Lydiah's enthusiasm.

Varota is a good actor, but not that good. His suprise is evident, although quickly passed over. "Why, yes!," he replies glibly. "Yes, Baron, so I have!"

Cesare mutters to Ylena, "... and... spoken word... meaningful How... my... it?"

Jakkar looks cooly in the direction of the musician.

Laadislas can see right through Varota. He glares at him.

Cesare leans across the table and softly speaks something to Ylena.

Lydiah shouts to Ylena. "Aunt Ylena! If you're not finshshing this marmojet of yours, I'll gladly have it!" With this she reaches over to Ylena, and spills her glass doing so.

A grin forms on the young Lankiveil's face at that. "Ah, 'tis one to honor the Baronial sister, I assume, Master?" he inquires, tapping a finger of his right onto the table's plate idly.

In the arena, Larkov waits....waits....and finally steps to the left and swings his sword towards the fighter going high, a beheading strike... At the same time, he braces himself at the legs for a blow to the lower section of his body, trading a hit for a kill.

Zelaria's smile to Varota is pleasant, but her attention slips away from him and around the table again, studying each face with that cordial expression across her delicate features.

Steffan sips a bit from his goblet and then breaks off another piece of the marmoset and then smiles.

Lydiah says, "Oh my, shilly me." Raising her voice, "Servant! Some more!"

Laadislas frowns at Lydiah.

Varota frowns his eyebrows together, but he was ready for Filarion's barb. He bows solicitously to the Count, saying, "Even so, milord. Even so."

With a muffled gasp of surprise, Ylena fairly bolts out of her seat, wine trickling down to soak into the fibers of precious silk. With a frown of dismay she shakes her head. "Now I am not fit for proper comapny"

Laadislas stands and bows to the Baron. He is very pale. "Lord Baron, woulld you mind if I left for a moment. I am feeling somewhat ill.

Varota smiles blithely at the lady Ylena. "Worry not, madame", he says. "Varota is nowhere close to being proper."

In the arena, the first man catches Larkov's edge right in the side of his head, and he stumbles and falls, his shield sparking where it contact's Larkov's. The second one runs his spear right through Larkov's side, impaling him neatly, and then snaps the weapon off, tripping and going down as well.

Zelaria's smile towards Laadislas is sympathetic as she says, "I am certain that someone of such important position and gentle upbringing as you, lord, has a discerning palete and delicate stomach."

Lydiah stands up. "Oh, I'm so shorry, Aunt Ylena. I didn't mean to dirty your dress!"

In the arena, the crowd roars, "Two! That is two! Two kills for the Warmaster!"

Laadislas says, "Baron?"

Jakkar's eyes widen slightly as he looks at Laadislas somewhat worridly.

Laadislas clutches his stomach. He appears to be almost violently ill.

Laadislas says, "Lord Baron, I am sorry, but I need your pardon."

Ylena smiles so sweetly sugar near drips from her lips. "Be glad, my Niece, that you are more fortunate of position then that slave, earlier this eve.." Her voice trails off, but the barb is coated in layers of syrup and silk.

Cesare looks to the lady Ylena and actually grins in the mist of her distress. "Ah, providence is indeed good! A dirtied dress means you can get to my gift all the sooner!"

Lydiah walks towards Ylena, and looses her foot. She manages not to fall by holding onto Cesare's shoulders.

Steffan reaches into his cloak and produces a small case. He clicks it open and removes a thin cigar and poises the end of it into his mouth.

Cesare brings back supportive hands and helps the lady steady herself.

Laadislas says, "Lord Baron?"

Boris makes a brushing gesture towards Laadislas. "Don't puke here, cousin! Go and be sick in a proper place, eh?"

Laadislas whimpers and sits down, in obvious pain.

Laadislas says, "Thank you, dear Baron."

Laadislas runs out, clutching his stomach.

Laadislas walks to the north and passes through the Embellished Portal.

Laadislas has left.

Zelaria drowns a smile in her goblet, her expression back to sympathy for

Laadislas after she takes a deep drink.

A faint grin, a mischievious one at that plays around Filarion's lips upon the sight of Laadislas' pains. "It seems the wine had a rather unpleasant effect on the good Lord Laadislas." Shaking his head, he notes Steffan's movement and pulls out his pipe as well.

Boris says to Zelaria, "So my most bloodthirsty and delightful of courtesans, shall we wager again?"

Cesare mutters to Lydiah, "..."

Jakkar whispers, "Worry not my Lord Baron, our dear Advisor's pains are free from external malice."

The Chusukien looks around the room nervously, wondering exactly what exactly he's gotten himself into.

Lydiah shouts "Yes! More wine! And shome for my aunt Ylena!" She turns back to her place and slumps into her chair.

From a lower pocket, Steffan produces a lighter, the Ginaz house seal clearly visable on its front. He then lights the cigar and puffs briefly on it.

In the arena, Larkov sneers and grunts, almost falling to his knee, but manages to continue standing and only drops his sword in the agony. He keeps the spear in him and withdraws his dagger. Moving towards the fallen fighter and grabs him roughly, his face the embodiment of cold rage. He grabs him by the tunic and hauls him up, for the world to see. He brings his blade up and cuts the slaves throat, allowing the spurts of blood to cover them both. He stands there for a moment before dropping the slave. He moves slowly to a washbasin and a medic, cleaning his wounds and bandaging them before moving back to the middle of the arena.

Lydiah sips on a fresh glass, observing the other guests.

Cesare looks to the Ginaz and notes, "Quite an inferior brand you smoke there, lord . . . or are you even officially a lord, Steffan?"

Zelaria's expression is the picture of innocence as she blinks to the Baron.

"You wound me, My Lord Baron, that you call me bloodthirsty." She laughs then, leaning forwards. "What did you have in mind, My Lord Baron?" She glances to the arena and frowns then, giving an aching sigh of disappointment.

Laadislas walks in from Salon through the Embellished Portal.

Laadislas has arrived.

Laadislas sits down at the Dining Table.

Laadislas says, "Forgive me, Lord Baron."

In the arena, Tiko rushes over to the Warmaster and raises Larkov's hand. "The Victor!" he exclaims. Applause and cheers rock the stands.

Lydiah points her finger at Laadislas. "Ha ha hahaha! You weak of the shtomach!" With that, she starts coughing, choking on her last sip of wine.

Boris sneers, "You look seasick, cousin. it's just a little blood, eh?"

With a slight huff, and another glance at her niece, Ylena regains her seat, and rearranges the folds of her skirts to hide the dregs of wine seeping into it.

Laadislas tries to smile. "Assuredly, Lord Baron.

Steffan flicks a few ashes into an ashtray on the table, "it is from our own homeworld, Count, one that I have always prefered, and as for a Lord, you dare to ask? "

Boris glances towards Zelaria, disappointed. "He's too good," he explains. "The bastard. We shall have to wager another time."

Cesare snorts indignantly. "I do not dare. According to the Forms, you are about on the level as those gladiatorial chattel down there. Why not go join them?"

In the arena, Larkov stands, and bows formally to the crowds, his bandaged wounds unable to hinder the proud warrior. He slaps Tiko roughly on the back and heads for the exit, making his way back to the dining hall.

Gracefully, Filarion lets his pouch of tobacco rest on the table, the head of his thin black pipe, obviously made of a sort of rare wood resting idly in his left palm. Using the fingers of his right hand to open the pouch, he takes a delicate amount of tobacco - only as much as he can hold between two fingers and fills it into the pipe, using his index finger to compresss the dried and crumpled leaves of the tobacco plant. Producing a long match from a pocket of his suit, he quickly runs it over the table, igniting it that way. With a content nod the Count ultimately lights his pipe.

Lydiah observes Cesare and Steffan attentively, her head swaying.

Steffan gives Cesare a cold stare, his eyes beginning to narrow, "If it were to face you old man, I would gladly do it..."

In the arena, Larkov bows to the crowds and calls out loudly, "The blood of these slaves was spilt in honor of Lady Ylena. Let her be welcome in the Harkonnen Court and let my actions honor her entirely." He bows and moves off to the dining hall.

Laadislas sits back in his seat, sighs heavily. "The marmoset was delicious, but did not turn out to be very good in th long run. Very well, It's over now, I suppose. Don't mind me."

The slaves bring the third course, slabs of roasted ribs of a dinosaur-sized animal, cut up into one-foot lengths. The ribs are coated in a spicy sauce reeking of cinnamon and cloves.

Jakkar speaks nonchalantly, "My dear Lords, this is an occasion for merriment, is it not? Please, for our dear Baron's sake, let us all be calm."

Cesare rolls his eyes indignantly. "You'd not stand a chance you insolent whelp. Go back to sucking on your mother's teat or better yet, go castrate yourself and join your father in his rediculous devotions."

Ylena pales slightly, then manages to smile her thanks. "Such a to-do, for me, I am touched."

Laadislas says, "I fear that if I eat more I shall vomit publicly. Please excuse me, Dear Baron."

Varota looks down at his hands, looking quite engrossed by a ring on his finger.

Coughing heavily, Filarion's eyes fill with tears of surpressed laughter, blue puffs of smoke rising from his nostrils.

Larkov walks in from Salon through the Embellished Portal.

Larkov has arrived.

Zelaria essays a soft sigh and nods towards Boris, replying with a bit of a pout, "He is indeed too good. We need to see something that is more of a challenge, I think." Her attention goes to Steffan and Cesare then, her eyes glittering in bright anticipation.

Boris chuckles. "Lads, lads. This is a celebration of my sister's return, eh?" he cautions, voice jovial but his tone with a distinct growl to it.

Laadislas raises his glass. "Hear, hear! To the lady Ylena!"

Jakkar raises his glass smoothly, moving along with the Advisor's toast.

Lydiah stands, and interrupts Steffan. "Izh that right, you not even the rank of Lord?" Her voice is loud, and the wine has obviously affected her.

Cesare raises his own glass, quite forgetting the unimportant Ginaz, "To the beauty of Geidi Prime and the one to whom all the hearts of Kaitain are once again captive!"

Larkov steps into the hall, his side bandaged, although sporting a small stain of crimson. Upon hearing a call to Ylena, he offers another bow and a neutral look. "My Lady, how did you find the battle?"

Laadislas glares at Cesare. Please." He says coldly.

Boris lifts his own glass. "To the Black Widow of Harkonnen, her beauty renowned across the cluster!" He winks broadly at Ylena, his affection clear.

Zelaria raises her glass in toast, echoing the words spoken, melodioiusly, "To the Lady Ylena."

About to raise his glass as well, Filarion disgruntedly notices it's once more empty. Trails of smoke curling up from his pipe, held firmly in his left still, his right expectantly awaits the refill. As that is done, the Count raises his glass in return. "Well said by the Count Moritani." he notes with a grin, slowly the alcohol is having its first effects on the Lankiveil, it seems.

Steffan sips his wine for a moment and then peers at Boris and then nods, "Indeed Baron, I did not come here to battle." He then looks at the Count, "but someday we /shall/ meet....and only one of us will walk away..."

Jakkar raises his voice unexpectedly, "To the Lady Ylena!"

Laadislas jerks his head, startled.

Ylena purses her lips into a thin line of disgust. "Gentlemen, My Lords cannot we get along for just this evening? I fear that I shall have to take my leave if there is to be violence amognst My Lords."

Cesare shakes his head at the homecome lady, "I should not sully this momentous event by shedding such insignificant blood, m'lady."

Lydiah raises her glass swiftly, spilling some wine on Laadislas. "To Auntie Ylena!" She gulps her wine down and asks for a refill.

Boris nudges Varota. "How about a tune, Varota? Something suitable for the occasion. Not some barroom song like you usually give us, eh?"

Laadislas stands, still sickly. "Baron, I must leave. My illness has grown too great. I cannot stay."

Larkov steps to the table and sits down, obviously ignored, but the Warmaster doesn't care. Upon being seated he nods, "I grow tired of the fighting at any rate. The trio were amusing enough for me."

Ylena's eyes flutter shut for an instant at her Niece's behavoir, a sigh escaping her lips to mingle with the cacophony of sounds eminating throughout the room. "I think My Lord." A smile offered heartily to the Moritani Count.

Cesare winks blithely to Zelaria and notes to the ill advisor, "A courtesan a day keeps the doctor away."

Laadislas says, "I must go."

Boris says to Laadislas, "A weak constitution makes me quite cross, cousin. Sit and stay, eh? There's six more courses, and then desserts!"

Laadislas bows to all, then turns to the Countess and bows especially grandly.

Lydiah stands up and laughs at Laadislas, pointing at him with her finger. With that she trips, looses her balance, and topples over onto the ground.

Zelaria laughs lightly at Cesare's words. "Indeed so, and many other ailments as well, my Lord."

Laadislas says, "I am so sorry, My Dear Baron, I'm afraid, I would just get in the way. I bid thee all farewell. Goodnight."

Laadislas walks to the north and passes through the Embellished Portal.

Laadislas has left.

Steffan nods to Ylena, "my apolgies...."

Cesare grins mischeviously. "And certainly good for the odd . . .aerobic workout, no?"

Jakkar rises, moving towards the Baron's niece. "Are you well my Lady?"

Ylena stiffens, her face going white as a the finest linen sheet. Softly she states to her brother. "Remind me, Brother dear, to teach my dear Niece about the niceties of parties.."

The fourth course is served, a variety of pasta covered with a sort of quivering slime.

Boris nods to Ylena.

Jakkar bends down, aiding the Baron's niece to stand and helping her to her seat.

Lydiah sits up on the floor, and looks around, aghast.

You mutter to Ylena, "She's a bit unpolished."

Jakkar whispers something to Lydiah.

Count Filarion may be slightly buzzed, but the view that is offered to the neutral spectator is far too grand. Shaking his head, he notes towards Larkov, "And you thought you were fighting the real fight?" He inquires with a grin. Adding an approving nod he amends, "Though I admit, your wit with the tip is remarkable."

Lydiah allows herself to be helped to the table.

Ylena mutters to you, "If I didnt know better I would think she was being deliberatly rude...."

Jakkar returns to his seat, and, after bowing to the Baron's Sister and Niece, retakes his seat and begins to eat again.

Zelaria swirls her wine in her goblet, watching Cesare over it with a positively predatory expression. "Exercise and flexibility are good for all, my Lord. I advocate them in the extreme."

Larkov smiles to Filarion, "I was hoping that my battle was observed. I had a fleeting thought as I engaged in the battle on whether or not any wagering went on, as with the previous fighter..."

Lydiah sits silently, looking at her plate, not moving.

Cesare chortles, "I am certain the Baron quite appreciates your pithy advice, m'lady."

Ylena lounges back in her chair, eyes hooded, expression masked.

Boris strokes his beard. "Isn't she a gem, Cesare? As splendid a woman as was ever bred. Worth every solari I paid for her!"

A smile curls the Count's lips, "I do not wager, Warmaster, I was quite sure how the battle would end - one way or other." Blue smoke is curling up as Filarion exhales the fumes of his pipe, "Though indeed, if I recall correctly there was a wager..." his eyes trail over to the Baron for an instant, then back to the puffs of smoke above the table.

Larkov sits down at the Dining Table.

Zelaria's gaze slides to the Baron, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. "The pleasure of My Lord Baron is of greatest concern to me. Although I will not forget my bet with him just to make him happy."

Boris says, "You can keep your winnings, my witch, and make it up to me after dessert, eh? Eh?"

Steffan puffs on his cigar again, sitting back in his chair letting out a thin smile.

Lydiah moans "Uncle, ... can I leave ... the table?" She looks terrible, obviously drunk.

Cesare nods to Boris, "You have found a diamond to be certain, Boris. You Harkonnen always have the most remarkable flare for producing the most ravishing and witty women."

Lydiah whispers something to a servant, who runs out of the hall.

Zelaria's cheeks glow at the praise from Cesare and she offers him a wink before replying to Boris, "After? I would call it... a continuation of desert."

Boris nods to Lydiah, chuckling. "Yes, yes!"

Ulev walks in from Salon through the Embellished Portal.

Ulev has arrived.

Lydiah stands up and reaches for Ulev.

Boris reaches over and taps his thick forefinger under Zelaria's chin, chortling. "Splendid!"

Ulev walks to Lydiah and helps her walk to the door.

Larkov looks over at Lydiah and sighs, shaking his head as he engulfs a glass of vodka. Upon the speaking of Harkonnen women he offers a slight smile but does not comment, obviously women aren't a high priority with this man...

Lydiah walks to the north and passes through the Embellished Portal.

Lydiah walks out, her footsteps faintly heard.

Lydiah has left.

Ulev walks to the north and passes through the Embellished Portal.

Ulev has left.

Zelaria's chin lifts at Boris's touch, her eyes drifting shut briefly as she inhales. She fixes him with a deep, private smile regardless of the people all around and leans back in the chair.

Govindha walks in from Salon through the Embellished Portal.

Govindha has arrived.

Boris says, "Now this is a surprise. Master Govindha! Brought us any gifts, old fellow?"

Getting up from his place slowly as the Ix representative enters, Filarion bows formally, still, pipe and goblet remain in his hands. "Master Govindha, a pleasure as always." he notes before slumping back into his chair, first action being a deep drag on his pipe.

Cesare raises his glass to the arriving Govindha. "Good eve, sirrah. I've oft been an admirer of your fleshly masterpieces, but do not believe I have ever had the chance to meet their Michaelangelo."

Larkov stands slowly, his side a bit stiff now as the bandage constricts his movement. He bows respectfully and then sits, never speaking a word.

Govindha shuffles in with two wrapped packages under his arms. "Two gifts, dear Baron, two!" He motions to the two servant boys that entered behind him. "These slave boys ought to serve you well." He gives the wrapped packages to a Harkonnen attendant. "Those boxes... er... empty. Don't even know why I brought 'em."

Zelaria turns towards the arrival, sliding to her feet to perform the perfunctory obesience as well. His eyes do attract her attention, though, and as she sits she studies them quickly.

Jakkar rises from his seat as Master Govindha enters. "My grandmother practiced your ways Govindha, and was quite an admirer of your work, Master."

Boris says, "Slave boys, grand, grand. What's special about 'em? Secret pheromone glands, I'll wager, or elongated genitalia?"

Govindha pulls out a chair to sit, but, realizing that he has yet to acknowledge the siridari present, bows thrice with clockwork precision.

Cesare querries, "Or possibly hermaphrodites?"

Zelaria perks up at the discussion of the finer points of slave boys, eyes unblinking as she looks at Govindha.

Govindha shakes his head. "No, dear Baron; those were your May and August shipments, respectively." He nods to Cesare. "And February, dear Count. No, these slave boys were gifted with seven inch tongues."

Jakkar sits, keeping his gaze on the Bene Tleilaxu.

Boris chuckles. He roars with laughter, stomping his feet.

Cesare nods appreciatively. "Is there an Tleilaxu Creation of the Month Club?"

Zelaria gives a low purr of satisfaction at the words of the man.

Steffan looks at the boys curiously, as puffs once again on an almost spent cigar.

Larkov looks curiously at the slave boys and hmms, but decides on taking another hit of vodka. If women didn't interest this man, boys wouldn't either...

In demonstration, one of the boys grabs an cocktail weenie with his long, prehensile tongue from a servant carrying a tray of the weenies.

Boris applauds, wildly.

Filarion wets his lips silently, studying the reactions upon the Tleilaxu's explanation silently. Remaining silent as the 'boys' demonstrate their gift, he rather raises a glass of wine, squinting at the slaves, lips drawn into a thin smile.

Varota covers his face with his hands, not to be exposed to this bizarre spectacle.... well, maybe just a little bit exposed.

Steffan looks at the boy, his eye's widened for a moment, then chokes a bit on the smoke from his cigar.

Govindha pulls out a chair and sits down at the table. "So, dear friends, what did I interrupt?" he purrs.

Govindha sits down at the Dining Table.

Zelaria watches the tongue trick with definite wonder and no small measure of appreciation. Under her breath, though not /too/ much under her breath, she murmurs something about wanting one.

Larkov looks over at Zelaria and mutters to himself, although not quite inaudible, "No doubt." And he takes a plate of the slime-covered pasta, and begins to eat heartily.

Slaves bustle about, filling and refilling glasses of wine.

Boris says, "We were just about to be entertained by Varota here."

"You were?", Varota chimes in.

Cesare sighs deeply, "Joy of my utter being. I can breathe, for Varota will play tonight."

Boris says, "Oh, come, Cesare, is't as bad as all that? He did write a song about me, eh?"

Cesare chuckles slightly, "Yes, that he did, and didn't portray you as an /entire/ rogue, which takes some doing, eh?"

Boris chortles happily. "Indeed, my boy!"

Zelaria looks towards Larkov and smiles, the expression deliciously wicked. "I take it that you would have little use for a seven inch tongue, Warmaster?"

Steffan smiles at Zelaria's remark as he sips a bit more wine, "you never know Zelaria, it could provide a momentary distraction....all that you might need during a fight..."

Larkov coughs a bit and shakes his head, no longer making any pretense of muttering. "I should hope not, madam. Our skills do not parallel so much as for me to find such needs."

Boris teases, "The Warmaster denies his needs, eh? His discipline will not permit it."

Varota shrugs one shoulder as he steps away from the table. He calls the maitre d', and hurries some instructions to the man.

Leaning back once more, Filarion has been quiet the last few minutes, only now paying attention again, eyeing Varota's preparations from under an arched brow.

Steffan nods to Boris, "indeed...I should not think that one always use one's talents for battle..."

Zelaria's delighted laughter chimes from her as she winks towards Steffan. To Larkov she says with utmost innocence, "I am certain there are a dozen or more uses I could come up with for a boy with a seven inch tongue that have nothing to do with the finer things in life, even."

Larkov looks to the Baron, the teasing apparently working. "Its not 'needs' my lord. I have no need for such things. Only capable men to aid me in carrying out my duty to my lord. Everything else is secondary and therefore unnecessary."

Larkov looks back to Zelaria, frowning, "I think our views on the 'finer things' do not coincide, madam."

Cesare shrugs to Zelaria, "Why stop at 7 inches? Such a measurement would prove . . . inadequate under other circumstances."

Boris blinks. "I don't believe him. Not a word!" he chuckles. "Why, a night with

Zelaria here would melt the teeth in your mouth, Warmaster!"

Zelaria matches Larkov's frown, though there is a teasing sparkle to her eyes. "I should educate you on teh matter sometime, Warmaster." She turns to Cesare, the laughter spilling from her again. "True enough, yet I have found finesse to be a greater requirement in such matters."

Govindha chuckles warmly. "Oh, I'm sure a clever warmaster could find a use for them, Larkov." As a demonstration, he tosses to tiny cocktail swords to the boys. Each catches one with his tongue, and they proceed to fight a "duel" equal parts art and obscenity.

Larkov shakes his head and scoffs, on the verge of losing his temper. "Really madam, my lord. Such luxuries would only dilute my effectiveness. And such dilution would earn me my ...dismissal." The last word comes out with an ominous ring.

Boris chuckles. "Don't worry, Larkov, I'd never dismiss /you./ Kill you, yes, feed you to my kuvens, certainly. But dismiss you? Never!"

Zelaria links her fingers before her and stretches her arms above her head, the movement displaying rippling curves at their best. She gives Larkov a sorrowful smile. "Then perhaps another time. For me... would you permit me to depart now, My Lord Baron, and attend you later this eve?"

Larkov mutters, "Perhaps not." and finds solace in his everpresent glass of vodka.

Govindha motions the two boys to stand down. They retract their tongues and assume places near the door. "But enough with the gifts, and on with the entertainment! This place is so quiet that I fear a CHOAM meeting may break out!"

Boris nods. "Yes," he snaps. "Don't be late, eh?"

Steffan laughs almost inaudibly, while observing the warmaster and puffs the last puff of his cigar.

Zelaria rises and glides to drop a deep curtsy before the baron. "I would not keep you waiting, My Lord Baron." She straightens and turns on a heel, slinking from the room.

Boris watches the woman slink out, fixing her with an appreciative stare.

Zelaria walks to the north and passes through the Embellished Portal.

Zelaria has left.

Larkov frowns, "A pity. Those slaves died to fast. I should have played more." He scoffs in annoyance and eats some more of the pasta.

Boris pushes away his pasta and pats his stomach, which rumbles with an ominous hollow sound. Slaves bring the next course, live fish swimming in a buttery yellow sauce.

Govindha pokes his entree with a fork. "Can I get a new one? I think my entree is spawning."

The High Master's plate is promptly replaced with a non-spawning one.

Boris says, "Larkov, you are simply too good with that blade, eh? I could have won some money back on you...But you killed them all too fast!"

Looking puzzled after Govindha's remarks, Steffan carefully begins to look over his on entree.

Obviously way too concentratet on attending to the assortment of wines he is offered continuosly, the Count of Lankiveil only half heartedly eats from the next dish, his head now and then turning to regard the slave girl serving him his wines. "Ah, so your knowledge .... not only ... vines, I take?" he asks her in a low voice, a mischievious grin playing around his lips.

Larkov frowns, "I'll be dulling my blade tonight on more things while you enjoy your ...second dessert my lord. I'll try to go slower next time."

Boris spears his fish with a small javelin, popping each one into open mouth while it's still flopping. "Delicious!"

Boris says, "Excellent."

An Embassy guard leans close to the Baron's ear, and speaks urgently to him. The Baron looks up and shakes his head, sighing.

Govindha has partially disconnected.

Boris says, "Can you believe the bad fortune? Something demands my attention, and that of my good cousin Filarion as well. But please, my lords, stay, enjoy yourself, there are at least three more courses to go...And of course, any of my slaves are at your disposal, should you feel the urge. I recommend the redheads--Hibernians trained on Gamont, eh?"

Boris rises and motions to Filarion to accompany him.

Boris says, "Good even, all! Come, Count!"

"Those indeed are the best." the Lankiveil comments as he rises, reluctantly leaving behind the wine and the girl serving it.

Steffan pokes his fish inadequately and it plops on the table flopping around. With an embarrased look he says, "Pardon...." He then stabs it, getting the fork now stuck in the table for a moment and manages to stick the fish finnally in his mouth.

You walk through the Embellished Portal.

Boris departs the Fete.