Log 2: Christmas with the Atreides

["Kathie Care" <kathie@availablelight.net>]

12/27/2001
Logfile from DuneIII-Ophelia
Where the Great Houses vie for power in the Padishah Imperium....

Grumman Hall -- Moritani Embassy (Kaitain)

        Constructed with a single purpose in mind, to illustrate the wealth
and influence of House Moritani, this magnificent hall accomplishes its
goal. Colonnaded hallways make up the eastern and western boundaries of the
vast three story hall. Immense marble columns support the arches that rise
nearly one hundred fifty feet above. Resting upon the four arches is a huge
golden dome with small windows ringing its base. Shining down from the top
of the rotunda in gold filigree is the symbol of the Lion Throne, serving of
a constant reminder to all of House Moritani's service and loyalty to the
Padishah Emperor.

        Directly opposite this magnificent golden lion, inlaid in the floor
by mosaic, is the Moritani coat of arms. Easily two hundred feet from top to
bottom, the mosaic is set within a circular field of black marble, which in
turn is surrounded by white alabaster that blazes brightly when caught by
the light from the windows of the dome.

        Today, however, there is a new addition to the usual appearance of
Grumman Hall. The Moritani are in the midst of celebrating their Giorni di
Natale, or, as some call it, Christmas. The Hall is decked out in grand
Moritani style for the 15-day long fete.

Exits:

 Grand Staircase <U> leads to Great Landing -- Moritani Embassy (Kaitain)
 Oaken Doors <W> leads to Chapel -- Moritani Embassy (Kaitain)
 Alabaster Arch <E> leads to Banquet Hall -- Moritani Embassy (Kaitain)
 Ornate Arch <S> leads to Consistory -- Moritani Embassy (Kaitain)
 Colossal Arch <N> leads to Reception Hall -- Moritani Embassy (Kaitain)


Over your communicator's secure frequency, a man's voice says, "Message from
vehicle 979, bound for Moritani Embassy, requesting clearance, "This is the
Lord Mintor Atreides, being accompanied by the Lady Emilia Cleomenes
requesting clearance.""

You clear the vehicle over your communicator.

Mintor walks in from Reception Hall through the Colossal Arch.
Mintor has arrived.

Emilia walks in from Reception Hall through the Colossal Arch.
Emilia has arrived.

The air within the vast hall is certainly warm, and festive. And not to
mention, thick with the scent of the fresh evergreen tree that has been
hauled in and decorated. The crates bearing these decorations have all been
unpacked, and, hidden away somewhere else in the embassy, while the embassy
serving staff rushes about putting a few last touches here and there --
ribbons on evergreen garlands on the balconies above, the last sprigs of
mistletoe to be hung around the doorways, and, too, big urns are being
filled with presents near the doors to the reception hall.

All of this activity is being overseen, of course, the Contessa Moritani
standing by the grand staircase with a warm, exhuberant smile on her face.
Some of the servants even sing, though their songs are in the language of
their homeworld, Grumman, and so their meaning is unclear.

Mintor walks in quietly, with the Lady Cleomenes behind him.. he walks
straight towards the Contessa and bows deeply.. Thank you for allowing us to
come see you on such a... busy holiday... The best of wishes from House
Atreides."

Emilia swiftly turns her head around, gazing in admiration. She finally
turns to the Countessa, cursteying head down. Her eyes sparkle as she tries
to pick up the melody lines the servants sing.

Martin walks into the grand Hall from a nearby archway. He grins as he
watches the scene before him. He momentarily leans against the wall as he
listens to the servants sing. It is a joyous time for all members of all
ranks. Seeing vistors arrive, He approaches them from behind, waiting
patiently to greet them in this happy time.

Ophelia turns as she is addressed, the surprise evident on her face. "Of all
the Houses invited... Atreides is not one I'd expected," she notes quietly.
"But welcome, just the same, to our friends of the Hawk. Buon Natale!"
Martin's presence is noted behind the Atreides pair, an eyebrow twitching
slightly in his direction.

Mintor nods.."is it not a time to put past greivances behind, 'Good Will
Toward All' and all that?" He turns towards Martin when he notices Ophelia's
gaze.."Ah, Lord Rinaldi.. It's been a while.. I take it that your trip back
from Alvsgaard was well?"

Martin grins and bows to his lordship. "Yes, My Lord. I, unfortunately, had
too much of the mead. I made it to the hotel and slept through my wake up
call, missing my transport."

Ophelia smiles softly. "I am unfamiliar with tradition on Caladan, m'lord...
our tradition demands a focus on sharing the home and the feast with friends
and family. There are none here on Kaitain this day who we would turn away
from our door."

Mintor smiles and nods to Ophelia.."Well then, thank you Contessa.. We
appreciate the hospitality.." He turns towards Martin.."Ah well... I could
think of worse planets to be stranded on.."

Emilia allows a small smile to spread over her face, she speaks with an
offworld accent sounding much like offworld Galach, "You have an enchanting
celebration prepared here, and a warm welcome too it seems. The people of
Grumman have truly generous traditions. We have a similar festival called
Traveler's Vigil on the Dalta, during the darkest days of the year."

(OOC) Emilia says, "Antiquated Galach"

Martin smiles and nods. "It was unfortunate that we had to visit it in such
a sad occasion?" He looks to Her Ladyship, giving a smile and bow. "Pardon
me, My Lady. What occurs?"

Ophelia nods as she listens to Emilia's explanation, her head even tilting
slightly as she strains to focus on the antiquated Galach so that she
understands all of it. "It sounds quite lovely," she remarks.

Emilia looks with some concern at the mentioning of the funeral, before
speaking of the traditions of her small island chain, "Well, it takes place
over the period of a few nights. Five usually. It's called Traveler's Vigil
since every house prepares a large feast for travelers and wanderers during
those darkest nights of winter. A band of village youths then dress in
costumes and go from house to house, "Calling Out" the people. They go
through an elaborate ritual, after which the family gathers up the feast
food and carries it with the steadily growing band."

Emilia laughs, "There are many other traditions, and provincial nuances,
such as the Dove Candles...but I came to hear of the Moritani customs.
What's all this evergreen?"

"It reminds us that life continues, even in the season of death, the
winter," Ophelia supplies. "When all the other branches are bare... these
are the trees that continue to look so alive. And so we decorate our homes
with them, to bring some measure of cheer in to them."

<<Emilia>>
Fingering her watch absently she glances around listening to Ophelia's
explaination, "What a touching sentiment..and to think we'd never had full
trees of pine. I shall have to start a new trend when I return. What are all
these baubles covering the tree for?" she inquires.

Mintor stands quietly with Martin as the two women converse..

Martin turns to Lord Mintor. "May I ask you a question, My Lord?" He asks
quietly, not to disturb the ladies.

"I don't really know," Ophelia says with a light chuckle. "It's just one of
those traditions that are so old... no one remembers why, or who started
it."

Mintor raises an eyebrow and nods..."Why, most certainly.. How may I be of
service?"

Martin simplely shrugs. "It's nothing really important. I was curious how
you were able to conceal such a large metal shield under your cloak on
Alvsgaard?"

Emilia smiles broadly, "I heard that it is customary to give gifts at
Christ-Mass," she says as she removes an elacca wood box from a pocket of
voluminous jacket.

Mintor shrugs.. "A rather large cloak I guess? I never gave it a thought.. I
was not trying to conceal it, justkeep it out of other people's way.."

Ophelia lifts a hand, gesturing to the urns being filles with presents even
as they speak. "On Grumman, we pass the urn... the Urn of Fate, we call it.
What you get is what you get.. and on the 15th day of the fete, the old
crone, La Befana, makes an appearance to give gifts to the children.
Children who have dutifully left letters for their parents, expressing to
them how much they love them, and all the good things they expect to do in
the coming year."

Martin smiles and simplely shrugs. "Not at all, My Lord. I was simplely
curious. It seemed rather heavy and with the wind blowing as it was, I was
surprised that no one saw it. It was very touching."

Emilia laughs lightly, looking around at the urns, as if to place the box in
one, "Should I?"

Mintor nods.."Yes.. I figured that the Ginaz would bring a sword.. It seems
to be a usual thing with them.. So I decided a shield would be a good thing
to bring along when fighting demons, ineer or otherwise, while walking
through the afterlife.."

"If you wish, m'lady... though as fate is a fickle thing, I cannot promise
who will receive your gift," Ophelia cautions, though she grins
mischieviously.

Martin smiles and nods, his attention is drawn back to the ladies. A large
grin appearing.

Emilia walks over to a large urn placing the finely carven box in. Her face
holds the excitement of adventure, "And I expect the children never do all
that they write? A study in the art of cheerful good-intentions?" she
chuckles.

"Some do, some don't, though most are too afraid of the old witch, La
Befana, to lie to her," Ophelia grins.

Martin steps foward. "I'm sure that the children have good intentions, My
Lady." He says with a smile.

Mintor chuckles and nods, listening to the stories..

Lady Cleomenes's lips form an O, "A witch who's agenda is to bring good
behaviour, how clever. And what does she do to disobedient young children?"


Marco walks in from Reception Hall through the Colossal Arch.
Marco has arrived.

"They get no presents.. just a lump of dirty, black coal," Ophelia chuckles.

Emilia laughs, "And what of adults? Do you place coal in your urns as well?"

Ophelia shakes her head. "No... because there is no controlling who gets
what gift. It wouldn't be very polite to give coal to the wrong guest, hmm?"

Emilia walks over to admire the tree, "Ah, but fortune despite her many
admirers and detractors has never been...polite"

Martin grins. "Pardon me, My Lady. It is the witch who gives coal." He says
almost teasing.

Emilia grins turning her eyes to Martin, "And do you not have a Bene
Gesserit in the household, my lord?"

Marco steps in to Grumman Hall, a worried look over over his normal cool
expression. Near breathless he makes his way over to a guard. After a short
conversation and the guard checking his com, a negative reply is given back
to the Count. Marco sighs but makes his way over to the group with
occiasonal glance to his chronometer. "Good evening everyone."

Mintor bows at the sight of Count Marco.."Good Evening and best wishes, Your
Lordship."

Martin nods. "Yes, We do." He looks to Marco, smiling to him. "Good evening,
My Lord."

"Ah... true, but, as much as we might influence fate during the holidays, we
will. There are no poorly chosen gifts in our urns," Ophelia says lightly.
"And yes, we have a Bene Gesserit here, though I don't rightly see what Lady
Conium has to do with La Befana, and our Giorni di Natale?" Marco is given a
warm smile and nod, though she holds silent for an answer to her question
posed to the Atreides lady.

Emilia inclines her head, "Good evening, Count Marco." She turns back to
Ophelia, smiling secretively for a moment, "Oh, no offense to the Lady
Conium, but many among the peasantry of the Dalta insist on identifying the
Bene Gesserit Sisters with witches. Almost as many as do with priestesses. I
was curious if a similar line of thought existed on Grumman."

"Best wishes to you as well, Lord Mintor, Martin." The Count nods to them
all but gives a nervous smile to Ophelia. He hears something with a
concerned look, "What about Conium?"

"Such a line of thought most certainly does not exist within this embassy,"
Ophelia says flatly, an eyebrow arching.

Emilia parts her lips as if about to speak, but thinks better of it, before
inclining her head slightly and saying, "You are the mistress of your house,
Countessa"

Mintor looks to Emilia.."you'll soon realize that the Sisterhood is treated
with respect here on Kaitain.."

"The Bene Gesserit have shown no evidence of meaning, or causing, any harm,"
Ophelia says, a bit gentler. "I think much of the slur placed upon them
comes from men who are jealous, who fear they are powerful, men who cannot
stand the thought of a woman with more power than they. Though the Bene
Gesserit are more service-oriented... they do not seek power, as I have
seen. They exist, as it is their mantra, to serve. I can find no fault with
that."

Emilia raises an eyebrow sharply, "Of course, they are invaluable servants
of the empire. And certainly potent women, excellant teachers too. I can
attest to that." Mumuring softly under her breath she says, "Kept so taut by
political concerns, you'd think they could step out for a sociological
discussion."

"Ah, but therein lies the nature of the problem, my dear lady. They are
women," Ophelia says with a small chuckle. "Women, your own Duchess and
myself included, have not found it an easy time on Kaitain. Our cousines in
the Landsraad find it troublesome, sometimes, the small matter of our
gender. It is no wonder the same hysteria has spread to the Sisterhood...
especially on homeworlds ruled by men."

Marco raises an eyebrow about the talk at hand and glances over to Martin.
Bene Gesserits, a couple of thoughts can be remembered about a few, perhaps
one in particular. But the Count keeps his silence and returns to watching
the door anxiously.

Martin turns to Lord Mintor and smiles, speaking quietly with him.

Martin mutters to Mintor, "... the accompanyment... the..."

Mintor raises an eyebrow as he speaks with Martin...

Mintor mutters to Martin, "... yes....."

Emilia laughs, finally her face lightening, "Ah, I too was called a witch by
certain Daltan insurgents. I must say though, Countessa, that despite the
grumbling of men, for that is all they choose to do most times, women have
secured considerable sway in the Imperium. Why three House Major are guided
by women's wisdom. I recently acquired the marquisat of my House Minor.
Largely our success though seems to be at out living our male counterparts.
They seem proned to accidents. You know duels and such."

Martin shrugs and continues talking quietly with Mintor.

Martin mutters to Mintor, "Nothing... Bene... You... have enjoying..."

"Among other things, yes," Ophelia agrees with a healthy nod. Her dark gaze
lands on Marco, and she asks, "What time is she due in, m'lord? You're quite
on edge."

Mintor mutters to Martin, "Ah..... I... things... The... the... to... Lady
Sisay... and... feel that... time... her,... more... know..."

Over your communicator's secure frequency, a man's voice says, "Message from
ornithopter 979, bound for Moritani Embassy, requesting clearance, "Lady
Fenring inbound for the celebrations.""

Marco shrugs his broad shoulders looking worried and turns to the Countess,
"I don't know, they wouldn't give me a time for her arrival. I hope that
nothing has happened." He tries to put on a more controlled face.

Natalia walks in from Reception Hall through the Colossal Arch.
Natalia has arrived.

And the last bit of preparations are completed -- a table off to the side of
the hall is hauled in and set up, while trays of sweats, breads and cheeses,
wines of all colors and glasses and utensils are placed upon it carefully.
And at its center, a very fragile-looking lily plant is set. But on closer
inspection, the lily can be seen to entirely be of sugar.

You clear the vehicle over your communicator.

Martin grins and nods. "Of course." He speaks quietly again.

Martin mutters to Mintor, "... certainly understand,... Lord. Maybe you
should take... mistletoe..."

Emilia glances with some concern on Marco and then inquisitively to the
Countessa. Rapidly her expression changes to one of pleasant calm, as she
looks over the table.

Emylie walks in from Reception Hall through the Colossal Arch.
Emylie has arrived.

Natalia rushes in to the room followed by a few servants from Marco's House.
Her dark eyes search the room. The nanny who tries, to keep the child undert
control, loses her grip on the four year old. The little girl squeals and
yells, "Daddy!"

"Ah," Ophelia says, seeing the table brought in and set up. "Refreshments,
my dear guests... please, make yourselves at home. There is much more where
that came from, we've plenty!"

Mintor chuckles and nods..

Mintor looks up as others seem to have entered the Hall..

Marco looks up at the sound, eyes glowing bright as the child runs towards
him. The worried look disappears from his face, replaced now with a broad
grin. "Natalia!" Marco meets her half way scopping her in to his strong arms
and hugging her close. The girl wraps her arms tightly around his neck. The
Count holds her, "I missed you so much."

Emylie strolls into the room, escorted by Moritani-clad servants. She
immediately takes in the room, examining the occupants in silent
contemplation. Spotting the tree, she gasps in delight. She carefully makes
her way towards the tree.

Martin grins when he sees Marco scooping up the little girl in his arms. He
chuckles lightly to himself, before turning to watch the servants leave
after serving the table. He opens to speak, but sees Lady Fenring approach.
He grins and bows to her.

Emylie returns the bow with a polite curtsy of her own. All smiles, she
advances towards Martin. My dear Lord Rinaldi.

Emilia has disconnected.

<<Network issues demanded my departure at this moment, regretfully.>>

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