On the near-death of a Rat.

["Amit Sabnis" <ajsabnis@stanford.edu>]

Tonight's featured film:

*Exchanging Pleasantries in the Garden of Bitterblooms*

-=or=-

*The Day They (Almost!) Got Satrat*

Featuring:
(in order of appearance)





*Chief Diplomat SATYAVRAT DEVHAPTI of HOUSE RASTANYEV*

        Brown eyes encased in a blue sheen gaze thoughtfully at you from a
narrow face framed by coarse black curls whose aberrant wanderings are the
sole features keeping the word 'gaunt' out of your mind. The man's skin, the
color of sun-warmed earth, is clean-shaven but rough where a beard once
rested...signs of this harshness barely gleaned over with a delicate nicety
are apparent in the rest of his carriage as well.

        A sharply creased Rastanyev uniform, blue and bronze and black and
brown, covers his form in well-tailored folds. A knee-length jacket of the
modern style, vertical strips of leather and fabric, hangs heavily on his
shoulders, with two embossed stars of three points each adorning the upper
arms, glinting in flashes as he moves. An overly ornate shield-belt, twin
phoenixes of iron and bronze in arched combat, serves to both tighten his
jacket around his waist and bear an ornate crystal-shard kindjal, a gift
from the Earl Rastanyev.

        Underneath the obvious signs of his allegience, you begin to notice
some small niches of independence in a man otherwise all but painted in
Rastanyev colors. He wears the low-ankled footwear of the out-freyn merchant
class in shades of auburn, matching the otherwise unremarkable kindjal
scabbard. Tiny glints of copper peak out from his curls every now and then,
small jewelry dangling from his ear to match a ring on his right forefinger.
And although his face might reflect any expression ranging from subservience
to concession, his brown in blue eyes are tiny mirrors of an inner sense of
independence.
Carrying:
portfolio

*Warmaster-Delegate ALEKSEI PODZIUNEV of HOUSE RASTANYEV*

A man dressed in the uniform of a Cossack, the legions that are elite among
the forces of the Rastanyev. He look as if he is in his mid-forties, and has
a slight greying of his dark blond hair. He is tanned, tall and fairly well
built, a little over two meters tall and probably about 200 pounds. His
uniform begins with an red overcoat with gold trim, a wide blue waist sash
is draped on him, and his black pants and boots finish his uniform. A crest
adorns his right breast pocket and on his collar is the rank eupalets of a
full General. To complete the uniform, a sword is sheath at his side. He
maybe a little old for the military sake, but he still lookes like he could
defeat an army by himself.


*Siridar-Baron BORIS HARKONNEN of HOUSE HARKONNEN*

Boris Harkonnen is a great bear of a man, his body a slab of muscle now
turning to fat with age. His head is shaven bald, his full white beard
plaited in braids that spill down his barrel chest.. Crystal blue eyes glint
maniacally under bushy white brows. The Baron is resplendent in a
high-collared midnight-blue tunic, elegantly embossed with a silver ram's
head insignia on his left breast. He's wearing loose-fitting white trousers,
with a silver stripe running up and down the side of each leg. A
midnight-blue cloak, tied with a gold cord, is draped over his shoulders.
Boris' left leg is in a cast up to his knee, the cast of dappled plasticlike
material that flexes as he walks.


*The Lady Ambassador ZELARIA DELANEY of HOUSE HARKONNEN*

Possesed of the sculpted form of a dancer, Zelaria moves with languid,
prowling grace. Her skin is golden-hued from a dusting of powder across
face, arms... any bare skin... and her eyes are a deep jade green, slightly
slanted and cat-like in their study of the world. Hair the color of flame is
intricately woven into several tiny braids next to her face, the tip of each
adorned with golden bells that shimmer with melody in time to her movements.
The rest of her hair is left to fall in a silken river of fire to brush the
small of her back.
Thick, heavy silk in a burnished copper shade is draped around Zel, the soft
fabric alternately concealing her figure and molding to it with each
movement. The sleeves are long, but split to reveal lithe arms, and the
skirt falls to her ankles. Sandals with golden beads along the straps adorn
her feet.


*The Lady ULRICKE HARKONNEN of HOUSE HARKONNEN*


        Ulricke Harkonnen is a tall young woman that appears to be in her
early twenties. At just an inch under six feet tall, she manages both
statuesque voluptuousness and lithe athleticism. There's nothing soft about
her, yet she maintains an almost aggressive femininity. Her white-blonde
hair is sleek and straight, pulled away from her face by a black bandana and
left to fall free around her shoulders. Her blue eyes tend to vary in shade
depending on her mood; the more intense her emotion, the more bright and
intense they become. Her high cheekbones and full lips provide her with an
arrogant, dangerous beauty, an image assisted by her confidant, predatory
stance and movement.

        Her chosen clothing for a work-out or a spar is surprisingly
minimal. A black, cropped bodice covers her chest, leaving the rest of her
upper body and her stomach bare to reveal lithesome, rippling musculature -
sleek and strong, without being bulky. Loose, black pants cuff tightly at
the ankles, making the pants-legs billow slightly. A pair of black forearm
guards cover each wrist to just below the elbow, and her feet are covered by
sturdy black boots, however she has been known to go barefoot at times
during combat.

-=and=-

*The Gladiator HEKTOR of HOUSE HARKONNEN*
        Hektor stands at 6'1, a proud young Harkonnen. His long blonde hair
is pulled back into a loose ponytail, hanging down between his shoulder
blades. Skyblue eyes stare out at the world, taking all that is around him
in. His body is lean and muscular and skin tanned from his exposer to the
outdoors. Thin scars grace most of his form, showing he has been in a lot of
battles or something close. Only a plain, loin cloth covers his lower body.
Making it pretty easy to see what is underneath if one so wished. Strong,
muscular legs lead down to his feet. Besides, the hair on his head, his body
is completely smooth. No hair anywhere else, all of it shaved off.
        Tattoos grace most of his body, all done in black ink. First seen is
a collar around his neck, clearly showing he is owned. On his broad chest,
the Ram head symbol for the Harkonnen can be seen and around it are the
scenes of a battle. Of course, the Harkonnen are crushing their enemies.
Poisonous vipers twist down around his arms, fangs ending up on his fingers.
He may be owned but there is something proud about him.


Lights!  Camera!  Action!

(Director's OOC Note)

The note which is referenced below was sent by a concubine of the Baron
Harkonnen to the Diplomat Satyavrat Lord Devhapti.  It's contents were not
in keeping with the Forms, to say the least.  There were overtures therein
of a less than professional relationship...the details unfold below.


Dune III - Thursday, August 31, 2000, 9:20 PM - Satyavrat
---------------------------------------------------------
Traffic Loop -- Harkonnen Embassy (Kaitain)(#644RntJ)

     A wide plascrete roadway loops in a semicircle before the front gate of
the Harkonnen Embassy where ten slender flagpoles, each flying a large blue
banner, tower over the drive. A three-meter-high, spiked wall surrounds the
embassy grounds and, set into the wall, are two massive, embossed fanmetal
gates, topped by short spikes. The entrance to the embassy is guarded by
four Harkonnen troopers in blue and silver dress uniforms, maula pistols
held at port arms. Ground traffic busily fills the loop, picking up and
discharging passengers.
     In the center of the loop is a huge granite statue of a springing ram.

Players:
 Aleksei
Exits:
 Slidewalk <N> leads to Negara II Plaza -- Embassy District (Kaitain)
 Fanmetal Gate <SW> leads to Garden of Bitterblooms -- Harkonnen Embassy
(Kaitain)

You walk through the Fanmetal Gate.

Garden of Bitterblooms -- Harkonnen Embassy (Kaitain)

     The roughly circular outline of the vast embassy garden is hidden
beyond a wild tangle of flowers and plants. A stone path snakes from the
outer walls of the embassy grounds, past a chain of lilyponds and hedges, up
to the doors of the embassy itself. Other footpaths stray deeper into the
garden, amid the white bitterblooms of Giedi Prime that lend the garden its
name. One trail leads the way to a gently sloping hill topped by a folly of
Giedi marble columns. Moss-covered stone steps reach up the hill in a
zig-zag pattern, bordered at every turn by marble statues and plascrete urns
overflowing with inkvine and translucent roses. An artful fountain,
fashioned to resemble a natural brook spilling over smooth stones, is set
into the side of the hill.
     A dense profusion of flora from many worlds creates intimate arbors and
bowers where vines and tree boughs are twined together and harbor small
grassy areas or benches. Elacca trees shade the lilyponds where miniature
alligators swim. A stand of Caladanian dogwoods shelter the bloom of
fragrant black lotus. Topiary hedges form living partitions throughout the
garden. A bridle path for horseback riding follows the curve of the
surrounding wall, provided with a variety of terrains ranging from smooth,
grassy field to steep, rocky slopes. The main building of the embassy is
visible through the foliage from almost everywhere in the garden: a squat,
ponderous structure built of white plascrete, with black ribbed buttresses
supporting the weight of the whole structure.

Players:
 Boris                                 Satyavrat
Exits:
 Fanmetal Gate <NE> leads to Traffic Loop -- Harkonnen Embassy (Kaitain)
 Burnished Doors <S> leads to Giedi Hall -- Harkonnen Embassy (Kaitain)
Aleksei walks in from Traffic Loop through the Fanmetal Gate.
Aleksei has arrived.

Escorted by several Harkonnen guards, the Rastanyev emissaries are led into
the large Garden from the street beyond. The diplomat, of slighter figure
than his companion, walks to the front and right, clearly in the position of
prime importance.

Boris stands near his alligator pond, leaning on a slender ironwood cane in
his left hand, left leg in a cast up to his ankle. A slave stands nearby
with a tray full of chunks of bloody, raw meat. Boris lifts one and tosses
it into the pond, where it's snapped up with much thrashing and splashing as
the baron chuckles.

Boris glances over. "Ah, Ambassador, good to see you. And your companion
must be the illustrious Lord-General, eh? Well met, sirs." he says with a
grin. "Would you care to take a turn feeding my pets?"

Aleksei walks along behind the Diplomat, he looks around the area, admiring
the embasy.

Satyavrat smiles engagingly as he bows. "M'Lord Baron...how thoughtful of
you. We had similar pets on my homeworld," he remarks casually, leaning
forward to inspect the alligators closely. "Those on Gangishree are of an
understandibly leaner constitution, of course..." The man looks at the large
plate of meat. "Might I?"

Boris nods. "By all means, Ambassador." he suggests. He warns, "Mind the one
on the end, there--he's got a sharp eye and he'll snap your hand off if you
let him."

The gators shuffle and splash in the pond at the sight of the new feeder.
The one on the end lies in wait, making like a log, biding his time.

Aleksei bows also along with Satyavrat and says to Boris, "M'lord Baron, it
is a pleasure to meet you." and he looks towards the alligators, "Perhaps, I
will watch for now."

Satyavrat's eyes squint slightly as he surveys this silent hunter. He
relieves the Baron's slave of a particularly slippery hunk of flesh, and
rolls up lightly onto the balls of his feet, keeping his eyes on the far
alligator throughout. He inhales sharply, then heaves...pulling his arm back
from two snapping mouths just before one closes firmly on the large morsel
of food. "Endearing pets," he remarks as he rocks backwards to regain his
balance.

leksei watches the alligators and nods, "Impressive how quickly they devour
their food."

Boris gives a laugh of amusement. "Aren't they beauties? Pure predators." He
claps Satyavrat on the back in encouragement.

Satyavrat stumbles forward, reaching out a desperate hand to steady himself
on the balistrade lest he fall prey to the pure predators. Smiling lightly
to make nothing of it, he turns to his fellow Rastanyev and says, "Quite
like some soldiers we know, hmm, General?"

Aleksei chuckles as he looks at the diplomat and says, "I wonder what
soldiers you are talking about?" and adds a smirk.

Boris turns to Aleksei. "You're a Cossack, eh Lord-General? I've heard
admirable tales of your men's prowess. They say your men fight like demons
and screw like Salusan bulls. Is that true?"

Aleksei chuckles and looks towards Boris, "well, I guess our exploits are
heard on other parts of the universe. And your men are thought to fight
better then any houses."

Boris nods. "They'd better, is all I can say," he says with a laugh. "They'd
simply better. So, my friends, will you take refreshment?" He gestures to a
slave, who steps up with a tray laden with wineglasses, each filled with the
green wine of Gamont.

Satyavrat inclines his head graciously. "You are too kind, m'Lord Baron," he
says, picking up a glass with his left hand. He patiently waits until all
who will drink have taken a flute, then raises his own. "A toast, if you
would have it; to the continued well being of the Houses Major, and the
prosperity of the Imperium."

Boris clinks his glass against either of yours, "Hear hear," he cheers.

Aleksei takes a glass and says, "Thank you, m'lord Baron", clinks the glass
against the two and adds his own "Hear hear."

"Tell me, Baron," the diplomat continues after tossing back a large wash of
the Grumman vintage. "How does the House Harkonnen prosper in these times? I
trust your Lordship's Family is secure and content?"

Boris grins. "I'm a lucky man, sir," he says to Satyavrat. "My three
children, the delight of my life, are all here on Kaitain! Although in these
 times, perhaps it would be best for them not to be, eh? Sons getting killed
with their fathers..."

Aleksei takes a drink of the wine and looks towards the Baron, listening to
the conversation between the two.

Satyavrat's face falls into a politely concerned grimace. "Aye, Baron, it is
indeed a dangerous hour on Kaitain. Although I am sure m'Lord and his
closest shall emerge from the present situation as...how did your
Swordmaster put it? Ah, as 'jovial' as ever." Satyavrat concludes with a
friendly smile and another sip from his drink.

Boris chuckles. "No sense going all to pieces, eh? The Imperium's weathered
worse than the death of one idiot Emperor. We're secure enough her." He
takes a gulp of wine. "But surely, sir, even with all this security,
communications between our houses remained strong. You did, after all,
receive a note from us, did you not?"

Zelaria walks in from Traffic Loop through the Fanmetal Gate.
Zelaria has arrived.

There is a slight crack in the diplomat's carefully tailored facade. Ever so
slight, but surely noticeable to someone watching closely. "Indeed, Baron,"
he says carefully, not wanting to trigger any violent response. "As you say,
the relationships between the Houses of the Landsraad must remains trong,
particularly in such situations as these."

Aleksei takes another drink of the green beverage and looks around the place
noticing the many guards and such.. he looks back to the Baron and nods to
the diplomat's words.
With a swaying, languid pace, Zelaria enters the gardens. The remote,
thoughtful look on her face fades, though, as she looks around the garden
and sees the gathering. Feline delight shifts across her features and she
checks her steps, headed towards the gathering.
Zelaria discretely looks you over.

Boris is speaking and drinking wine with the Rastanyevs, Ambassador and
General, near the alligator pond. He has a glass of wine in one hand, an
ironwood cane in the other.
Aleksei is drinking the win also but is fairly quietly listening to the conv
ersation between the ambassador and the Baron.

Boris presses, "How good it is that channels remain strong between our
houses, Ambassador. I'd hate for it them to weaken, eh?" He greets Zelaria.
"Ah, Lady, you are a vision this day! Do you know our Rastanyev guests?"

Approaching the delegation, Zelaria slows to a stop and sinks into a
curtsey, murmuring a soft tribute to the Baron as she does so. Through the
fringe of her half-lowered lashes, she studies the two men with the Baron
before replying, "Nay, my Lord Baron, I have not had the pleasure." A
curious smile curves her lips.

Satyavrat tears himself away from the Baron's gaze, a pretty smile on his
face for the sake of this newcomer. He bows to her, and the brief relief he
feels in her arrival is announced through a slight rush to his voice.
"Satyavrat Lord Devhapti, His Grace's Chief Diplomat on Kaitain, m'Lady," he
announces.

Ulricke walks in from Giedi Hall through the Burnished Doors.
Ulricke has arrived.

"Lady Zelaria Amarise Delaney, Ambassador of the noble House Harkonnen,"
Zelaria returns in kind. "A pleasure to make your esteemed acquaintance."
Surreptitiously, she steps closer, next to the Baron.

And thus Zelaria makes a fourth to the group standing, speaking, and
drinking wine next to the crocodile pond.

Aleksei bows also to Zelaria, "Aleksei Lord Podzunski, Lord-General of the
Cossacks, m'Lady."

Boris is speaking and drinking wine with the Rastanyevs, Ambassador and
General, near the alligator pond. Zelaria stands near him. Boris has a glass
of wine in one hand, an ironwood cane in the other.

Ulricke strolls out into the garden, a slave holding equipment following
behind her. She's dressed for a work-out, and her eyebrows arch as she notes
the little garden party.

A slave steps up with more glasses of wine.

Zelaria's regard shifts to the older man, her eyes moving over him with
curiousity and appreciation. "Again, a pleasure. What brings these noble
visitors to our House?" she inquires, gaze now turning questioningly to the
baron.

Boris calls to Ulricke with a chuckle, "Good afternoon, my jewel. Will you
come and greet our guests?"

Satyavrat takes the opportunity of this new distraction to quickly ingest
his newly filled glass. He leans slightly towards Aleksei, but his face
remains set in a pleasant, if abstracted, smile.

Ulricke's eyes flick down to her couture. "I'm rather underdressed, Father."
she smiles.
As the Baron's daughter approaches, Zelaria looks to her and immediately
sinks into a curtsey, greeting the lady softly but with a respectful smile,
nontheless.

Boris says, a little less jovially, but with no less a smile, "I was just
telling the Ambassador here that I'm glad that relations between our houses
are so strong. Even when our Embassy is locked down, they still can count on
communications from us, eh?"
Ulricke looks over. "Good evening, gentles, Zelaria, Father." she walks
closer, hand on her hip. "You'll excuse me if I refrain from the wine until
after my work-out...I can take myself elsewhere if you wish." she smiles.

"Indubitably so, my Lord Baron. Let it never be said that House Harkonnen is
not to be relied upon, even in the most tense of times," Zelaria murmurs her
soft agreement with the Baron, though she waits for Ulricke to finish her
words before doing so. Never interrupt the Baron's daughter.

Satyavrat decides that he has been silent long enough. Bowing to the
'underdressed' Lady Ulricke, he replies, "Not at all, m'Lady Harkonnen," in
an assuring tone of voice. He turns back to the Baron Harkonnen, remarking,
"Sadly, the Earl is quite busy with his forthcoming marriage; he sends
myself and the Warmaster-Delegate to assure his Noble Cousines that they may
rely upon communication from the Rastanyev."

Aleksei looks towards Ulricke and bows after she finishes, "Good evening,
m'lady Harkonnen." and he looks back towards the conversation...he ain't a
big speaker is he.

Ulricke inclines her head. "Good evening." she says with a winsome smile.

"And how are arrangements coming for the Earl's wedding?" Zelaria inquires
lightly, tilting her head to the side as she studies Satyavrat.

Boris grins. He fixes his clear blue eyes on Satyavrat. "Good, good. I'll
look forward to attending his wedding, eh? Now, you did get our message,
sir, personally?"

Zelaria's eyes slip sideways towards the Baron, one delicate brow arching as
he speaks. Slowly, her attention centers on Satyavrat again, this time much
more speculation behind her gaze.

Ulricke mms thoughtfully. "I do hope the Earl will have time available in
the coming weeks despite the wedding. Especially since the na-Emperor is
looking forward to meeting Lady Tat'iana so."

"Quite well, m'Lady Delaney, quite well," Satyavrat replies to the Lady.
There is a flash of desperation in his eyes as he turns to the Baron.
"Personally, m'Lord Baron?" he asks lightly. "All messages entering the
Embassy are screened by the Lord-General and his staff, per the occasion of
our times. One never knows when a simple message may carry a deep threat, is
it not so?"

[[[[For your OOC enjoyment...]]]]
<Rastanyev> Satyavrat eeeks.  "This is NOT good."
<Rastanyev> Satyavrat says, "Leks, if I die here, get yo'self out of the
Embassy and back to Mik."
<Rastanyev> Aleksei chuckles
<Rastanyev> Satyavrat says, "Let him know that I regret...a whole bunch of
stuff, and that I never should have joined the House to begin with."
<Rastanyev> Aleksei says, "I never leave a man behind.. well perhaps I will
grab the top half of you right?"
<Rastanyev> Satyavrat says, "Go for the least bloody part."
[[[[Thank you.]]]]

Boris doesn't relent. "A message under Harkonnen seal, my lord? A threat?
What d'you mean? Warmaster, did you get our message, then?"he asks the
Cossack.

With a soft laugh, Zelaria echoes Satyavrat's words. "Yes, one never knows
when a simple message may carry a deep threat." She directs a pleasant smile
towards the flustered diplomat.

Zelaria's eyes glitter as the Baron's anger becomes more apparent, and
though her smile is still pleasant, it is also... somewhat darker.

Somewhere, deep within this diplomat's mind, something clicks softly into
place. He returns the Ambassador's smile with one of his own, although there
is a coldness present in it which is simply...off. He silently waits for the
Warmaster's response, clasping his now empty glass behind his back.

Ulricke watches it all with a pleasant expression. This is /so/ informative.

Aleksei says, "I recieved the letter from a guard, who had recieved the
letter from a courier. It bore your seal and so therefore I did in fact
debate checking the message."

Aleksei sweats slightly and finishes his speech, "The seal seemed very
original so therefore I had it delivered to Lord Satyavrat."

Aleksei nods slightly, "I do infact attempt to hand check all messages to
the house, perhaps it was derelict of my duty for not opening the letter
before hand."

Boris gestures at Satyavrat with the cane in his left hand, a slender cane
of ironwood with a silver ram's head on the top. "Well, sir, what did you
think of the message?" he rumbles, his voice raising slightly.

<<Satyavrat thinks: Lords of the deep, protect us! The man must be
bluffing...>>
<<Zelaria thinks: I wonder how ravenous that one crocodile is today....>>

Zelaria looks from the large form of the cossack to that of the diplomat,
assessingly.

Satyavrat clears his throat...time, time is needed. Delaying might be
accepted...within limits. "Baron, I found out it as enlightening as any
other document which has borne your Seal. The Harkonnens have always served
the Imperium and the Landsraad in the function of Sentries, warning when
danger was near. This note carried on such an august tradition, as it
ought." His eyes flick back to Aleksei. Admirably, he does not shake.

<<Satyavrat thinks: Dare I utter a word in Russkiy? Why outside, damn it
all!>>

Ulricke walks a little bit away from the group, and over to the slave
carrying her equipment. He hands her a pair of swords, which she absently
tests for sharpness.
Whatever her assessment of the physique of the two men might be, the speech
that Satyavrat delivers is so friendly, so cordial, that Zelaria's smile
grows broader still, sharklike.

Boris studies the smaller man in blue and bronze. "August tradition, eh?" he
probes. "What is your response to the message, then, Ambassador?" He's not
moving, his knuckles whitening on his cane as he grips it.

Satyavrat's own hand slips slightly from his back so that the rear of his
wrist lies lightly on the hilt of a kindjal at his waist. He swallows, and,
with a great force of will, smiles broadly and blinks. "Why, m'Lord Baron,
my response is that the warning is duly noted and observed. Caution is
needed in all things, even to the point of abandoning previously
cultivated...goals."

Zelaria sways a half-step back, not retreating from the promise of violence
so much as standing so that her body is shielded from any spraying blood by
the Baron's form.

<<Satyavrat thinks: A false motive, then. Just as I gave poor dead Etta.>>

Ulricke calm as you please begins performing a slow Ginaz sword dance,
rather like a yoga practicioner's morning ritual.

Hektor walks in from Giedi Hall through the Burnished Doors.
Hektor has arrived.

Ulricke is working on a Ginaz sword dance some distance from the conversing
crowd. Her blades glimmer under light, and a slave standing nearby has
equipment, for two people if necessary. He nods to Hektor, beckoning him
over.

The Rastanyev diplomats, the Baron, and the Courtesan-turned-Ambassador
linger near the alligator pond, sharing drinks and conversation. A subtle
air of tension surrounds them.
Aleksei hmms as he watches the swords dance, and looks back to Boris and
then to Satyavrat, he waits for the silence to be broken, and he doesn't
know what will occur.

Hektor follows the slave's summoning. Heading over to Ulricke and who she is
sparring with...

Boris glances at his cane a moment, as if in contemplation of something. His
eyes flick to Satyavrat. He swallows, then manages to show his teeth.
"Caution!" he cries, grinning. "Indeed, I'm glad we could have this exchange
of views, Ambassador, eh? Caution's always prudent, especially in a new
situation. You never know where there's danger--even here in this lovely
garden, someone could have slipped chaumurky into these wine glasses here.
The very wine you've drunk so deeply of!"

Hektor says, "M'lady?"

You sense: Zelaria's eyes flare slightly in surprise, and a flicker of
appreciation and humor shifts behind them for an instant as she contemplates
your response. The expression is quickly smoothed away, though.

Ulricke is swinging solo this eve, practicing the ritual forms of one of the
Ginaz sword dances. And it's obvious that Hektor should not disturb her
until she completes it. The two blades continue their blurring motions as
she steps, whirling and ducking.

Aleksei looks over his wine for a second and shrugs a little, drinking down
the rest, and he looks to Boris and then back to Satyavrat, wondering why
the emotion.

Hektor pauses and waits...

A soft, rippling laugh spills from Zelaria at the baron's words, but the
sharp quality to her smile intensifies, the edge of it like a blade as her
gaze trails from the two diplomats to the glasses they have drunk from .

Satyavrat's smile melts into a laugh that sounds of steel rasping against
iron. "Danger everywhere, Lord Baron," he agrees, lifting up his now empty
glass. Holding it in his left hand, he lets it hang in the air between the
two men. "Calculated risk, of course. Surely, my fate would be far worse
were I to challenge the Baron's hospitality than were I to merely quaff
poison and be done with it. Subtle dangers are often much more difficult to
avoid, but the wise steer clear of them."

Aleksei looks then to Ulricke, and watches the blades. o O (if only combat
should be so beautiful.. even with the crimson...) and then looks back to
the Baron.

Boris chortles. "How true that is, eh? My hospitality is legend throughout
the Imperium and I'll brook no challenges to it!"

Ulricke finally ends, and with a spin, turns and sends a blade whirling out
torward Hektor. There's people in the universe, whom if anything are even
more potent of presence when one sees them sweat. Ulricke's one of those
people. Every movement lethal, every muscle taut and tight, she slides into
a beginning stance and waits.

Satyavrat bares his teeth in a grin, letting his right hand slide off of his
belt and up to the wine glass. "And my good sense shall surely keep me away
from anyone who would threaten to do so, Lord Baron."

Aleksei nods to Boris and comments, "The wine is definitely of a good
vintage, M'Lord Baron."

Hektor is not caught off guard by such things as he takes one step to the
side and lashes a hand out, snatching the whirling blade handle first from
the air. Swing it around, around his waist then back to the front. Hold the
blade with both hands.

Boris offers his elbow to Zelaria. "Shall we retire, my lady? I'd hear your
impressions of our new Emperor."

Ulricke crooks her finger at Hektor, and suddenly engages him in a quick
flurry of slashing and darting attacks. Steel meeting steel rings across the
garden - are they wearing shields?

Zelaria's hand lifts and she gracefully links her arm with the Baron's.
"Indeed, my Lord Baron. There is much that we need to discuss."


Boris walks to the south and passes through the Burnished Doors.
Boris has left.
Zelaria walks to the south and passes through the Burnished Doors.
Zelaria has left.

Aleksei looks towards the two swordfighters, and watches with the eye of a
General noticing the executions, and looks back to now leaving Boris and
Zelaria and then back to Satyavrat.

The diplomat in turn swivels to face the Warmaster-Delegate, and, without a
word, leaves the Garden with a forcibly slow pace.

===========FIN============

In tribute to the Harkonnens, let me say that I was actually sweating while
this was taking place (and this was not due solely to foul and humid local
weather).  Thank you to everyone for making this a *truly* memorable
experience.


-That Satrat fellow.

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