Love is in the air...

["Ed Messina" <emessina@vdot.net>]

Boris ventures to the Imperial Hotel...

 

Lobby -- Imperial Hotel (Kaitain)Upturned lamps line the walls of the spacious room at regular intervals bathing the room in a subdued light. A gold pattern of lions runs through the deep burgundy carpet. Near the center of the room a settee surrounds a marble fountain. Attendants are placed throughout the lobby, waiting on the pleasure of the hotel patrons.   (See 'hhelp' for a list of hotel commands.)Players: Boris                                Exits: Marble Doors <O> leads to Circle of Stars -- Central District (Kaitain)  Northern Arch <N> leads to Dining Room -- Imperial Hotel (Kaitain)  Western Arch <W> leads to Lounge -- Imperial Hotel (Kaitain)  Elevator Door <ED>
You pass through the arch and enter the hotel lounge.

 

Lounge -- Imperial Hotel (Kaitain)The lounge of the Imperial Hotel serves as a more casual alternative to the prestigious dining room. Even though simply decorated everything is of the highest quality. The tables are made of the finest dark hardwoods of the Imperium. Exquisite paintings are spaced evenly along the walls. Portions of a cloth tapestry lies behind glass frames behind the bar. The meta-glass window on the south wall provides a view of the Circle of Stars. Servants stand ready to answer the needs of patrons.Players: Boris                                 Lochinvar (window-table)               Etta (window-table)                  Exits: Arch <E> leads to Lobby -- Imperial Hotel (Kaitain)  Corridor <NE> leads to Dining Room -- Imperial Hotel (Kaitain)

 

Lochinvar says, "My family's land is half open plain and half..."

 

Lochinvar stops as the Baron enters.

 

Boris looks about,grinning, his usual knot of guards and retainers in tow. "Ah, it appears all the damage has been repaired, eh? Good, good." He rubs his hands, bellowing for service. "All right, all right, enough gawping, let's eat, eh?"

 

The maitre'd and staff give a collective roll of their eyes and move to clear a table for the Baron and his party, producing jugs of Giedi Red. One of the Baron's guards leans close to the maitre'd to order a meal for the Baron.

 

Etta notes the Baron's entrance as well and gets to her feet, giving him a reverent curtsey by way of greeting, "My Lord."

 

Lochinvar stands following Etta's lead and bows, "My Lord Baron."

 

Boris grins broadly. "Lady Etta! Well, that's the Karposzev spirit, eh? You've come right back to the Lounge, even after all that's happened here." He nods to the Sardaukar. "And you, Colonel."

 

Lochinvar:
The Sardaukar Major stands at 5'10", his wide shoulders give him a stocky, brutish appearance. His muscles are clearly defined and ripple through out his body from hours working out at the gym. His black hair is cut short in a High and Tight fashion with the top spiked a litte, thin black eyebrows, and his eyes are covered by impenatrable, tinted oil-lense glasses with gold wire frames. His skin has a orange tint to it do to his Native American heritage. He carries a 56 inch long, heavy battle assault sword in a sling on his back and a 7.5 inch utility/combat fighting knife on his utility belt on the left side, while on the right side of the belt he carries a shield device. His gray uniform is clean and his boots are polished to a reflective shine. The face is handsome without blemish, clean shaven, and full lips in a straight, unsmiling line.

 

Etta smiles, "I couldn't stay couped up in the Embassy forever, regardless of surprise attacks."

 

Lochinvar nods.Boris shakes his head. "No, no, suppose you couldn't. Perhaps we'll launch a few surprise attacks of our own, eh?"Etta says, "A plan to my liking, My Lord Baron."

 

Lochinvar keeps looking on in his stoic way.

 

Boris seats himself, gesturing for you both to join him. "So tell me, Major, do you speak, or does it take a beautiful woman to get a peep out of you?"

 

Etta leaves her seat the the table near the window.Etta moves to the Baron's table.

 

Lochinvar leaves his seat the the table near the window.
You take a seat at the long table.

 

Etta murmurs to Lochinvar, "Tell him about the wager you'd like to make."

 

Boris leans forward, wine goblet in hand. "Wager? What's that, Major? Speak up!"

 

Etta joins you at the long table.

 

Lochinvar breaks his stoic look and smiles, "My Lord I find it better for people of higher status of my self to address me first so not to be disrespectful. The wager? Oh, yes, your champion gladiator has challenged me to a gladiator game."

 

Lochinvar joins you at the long table.

 

You say, "Hektor? Has he now? You're not frightened, are you?"

 

Etta blinks in surprise, "I didn't know...I thought...are you going to accept?"

 

Martin enters from the hotel lobby.Martin has arrived.

 

Lochinvar smirks, "No my Lord. Sardaukar are incappable of fear. And to accept my dear Etta I would but..."

 

Martin walks over to the bar and slides onto a chair.Martin takes a seat at the bar.

 

Boris makes a dismissive gesture, concerned for Lochinvar. "Don't worry, I'll tell him to go easy on you, Major."

 

Etta notes Martin's appearance and smiles at him, waving hello as he makes his way to the bar.

 

Martin:
Tall, well-built man. Martin is usually wearing a fashionable jacket in a rich blue. A brillant white shirt could be seen under the jacket. A small gold chain can be seen from the collar. His trousers are of a matching rich blue with a thin black strip along the side. He has a pair of black confortable boots with silver spurs. On his lapel is a gold pin of House Moritani. His brown hair is short and usually neat. His eyes are blue. Over the jacket, a blue overcoat hangs off of him, once in while flapping in the wind.

 

Lochinvar finishes, "Easy has never been part of my vocabulary. I would except but how could I deprieve you, my Lord, of your favorite gladiator?"

 

Martin stands from his chair and bows to the party at the long-table. He gives a smile to Etta as straightens up.

 

Boris strokes his mustache, scenting easy money. "Of course, of course. But you could make it worth my while." he chuckles. "What's your wager, then?"

 

Etta beckons the Moritani over and points to an empty spot at the table.

 

Martin slides back onto his stool and orders a drink from the bartender.

 

Lochinvar shrugs, "My Lord do you mean money or something else?"

 

Boris glances from Etta to Lochinvar. "There are many things of value besides money, Major."

 

Martin takes his drink and walks over to the table. "Good evening, My Lords and my lady."

 

Lochinvar nods, "Yes I know, but the Emperor frowns at his disciple gambling."

 

Etta reaches for the wine decanter and pours herslf a glass, "You can't have a fight without a wager...it's not done, that's all."

 

Martin leaves his seat at the bar.

 

Boris nods to the Moritani joining the table, then turns to Lochinvar. "You're not like all those other Sardaukar, Major, I can tell, eh?"

 

Martin joins you at the long table.

 

Martin turns to Etta. "So how are you, My Lady?"

 

Lochinvar looks up at Martin, then nods back to Boris, "True, my Lord, you must have talked with Master Nestor."

 

Etta smiles at Martin, "We're deciding on an appropriate bet for a fight...I believe the Major is going to meet the Baron's chief gladiator...is that right?" She looks to Lochinvar.

 

Boris asks Etta, "A servant to Count Cesare, Lady Etta?"

 

Lochinvar nods, "Might as well, dear. I get bored just dealing with puny things these days, proably another reason why I am retiring."

 

Etta says, "Oh...My Lord, you haven't met...he is diplomat to House Moritani. Forgive me."

 

Boris nods, then turns back to Lochinvar. He gulps some wine. "Retiring? I thought Sardaukar never retired. Just slit their own throats or jumped into hot lava on Salusa Secundus."

 

Martin bows with his head to Boris. "My apologizes for not introducing myself, I didn't want to interupt you, my Lord. I am Lord Martin Rinaldi Legate for House Moritani. We have meet before, but it has been awhile."

 

Etta arranges for the waiter to bring Lochinvar another lager, then enjoys her own glass of red.

 

Lochinvar smiles, "We may be fanatics, but we are still human, my Lord. After all I have something in my life that makes me happy."

 

Boris snorts. "I knew you were nothing like those others, Major! And what's it that makes you happy, eh? A puppy, perhaps? A hobby, like coin collecting?"

 

Etta hides a grin in her wine glass.

 

Martin takes a drink from his glass. He listens to the conversation with interest.
Lochinvar shakes his head, "No, my Lord, a woman."

 

Boris blinks. "Ah, a woman! Of course! Some slave girl, tied up in a cell somewhere, for you to use as you please, eh?" He grins. "I can supply you with more, should you strangle her in your excitement, Major." He chortles, "We have the most lovely slaves from Hibernia, eh? Trained on Gamont!"

 

Lochinvar sips his lager, "I appreciate my Lord's kindness, but I this lady captivates me and holds my heary hostage."

 

Etta nods in agreement, not bothering to clarify the misunderstanding, "Yes, lovely slaves."

 

Boris corrects, "No no. You've got it all wrong, Major! You must be bold! She is the slave, eh? Unless you favor that sort of thing, of course.." he winks, lewdly.

 

Etta giggles, avoiding eye contact with anyone.

 

Martin chuckles as he takes a drink from his glass.

 

Lochinvar smiles at Etta the turns to Boris, "My Lord the only thing that I am a slave to is love."

 

Etta laughs and finally can't stand it anymore, "He means me, My Lord. He is in love with me and wants to be married."

 

Boris boggles. "What? Love? By my grandfather's liver...I think you mean it."

 

Martin smiles and finishes his glass.

 

Lochinvar sits speechless at Etta'a actions but smiles at her for speaking up, "I do my Lord."

 

Boris shakes his head, sadly. "Time was, when they'd take a mad Sardaukar out and drop him from an ornithopter onto some good hard pavement."

 

Etta laughs, "Now they give them leave of absence and allow them to retire...maybe they figure marriage is the same thing as falling out of an ornithopter onto pavement?"

 

Boris snorts derision. "Love has nothing to do with marriage."

 

Etta doesn't say anything to that. Instead she makes sure the Baron's glass is refilled.
Boris gulps his wine. "Is he noble born, Etta?"

 

Lochinvar looks to the Baron, "Yes, my Lord."

 

Etta says, "He has an inheritance from a House Minor."

 

Lochinvar looks to the Baron behind the dark oil-lenses.

 

You say, "Good, good. Well, will you be wed to her, Major?"

 

Etta grins teasingly, "Unless he loses me in a bet."

 

Lochinvar casts a glance to Etta, then back to Boris, "We have not set a date yet."

 

You say, "That's no marriage, then, that's concubinage. Let me take care of everything, eh?"

 

Etta glances over at the Baron, "We wouldn't dream of imposing on you, My Lord."

 

Boris scoffs, "Imposition? If it were an imposition, Etta, I'd not have offered! We'll hold the wedding in the Embassy, eh?"

 

Lochinvar shrugs and lookd to Etta.

 

Etta blinks and then nods, speechless, "Yes...of course."

 

Lochinvar nods, "If my Lord pleases."

 

Boris shakes his head, not much concerned with the couple's wishes. "Excellent, excellent!" He tosses off the last of his wine, wipes his mouth and rises. "My best wishes to you both." he says, gleefully. His guards fall into place about him."We'll speak again soon, eh?"

 

Etta rises as the Baron does, and curtseys as he takes his leave.

 

Lochinvar rises and bows, "As my Lord wishes."

 

You pass through the arch and enter the hotel lobby.