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Post by Zoilus on Mar 6, 2018 0:37:59 GMT
Almas Wildeye had arrived at St. Arno's lake only an hour ago, but those moments now seemed like they'd happened in another life. His Guild of Brewers had been given the responsibility and honor of organizing the Tlem Festival of this year's Revolution Week, and he'd decided they'd go further and aim higher than any before them: instead of one Pyracle's dreary city squares, Almas had managed to acquire the small lake from the old royal hunting grounds. The water was beautiful, clear and calm, and already had some of the basic facilities they'd need for such a large event, docks and a hunting lodge and such. Over the past months, the Brewers had built a vast pier, requisitioned giant pavilions from across the kingdom, and even done a little bit of work to make the hunting lodge less of a depressing hut. Getting enough booze had cut right into the Guild's profits, and food had burned him more than a few favors with the other Guilds, but in the end it had been worth it: when he'd arrived, the tables were set, the tents ready, the cooks smiling...but then the festival-goers actually started arriving.
It started with the elders, of course. They'd traveled quite a ways to carefully judge every aspect of the event, and they'd be damned if they weren't thorough. Almas had watch his dear old mother slide up the table where lemon caper chickens were roasting, take a deep sniff...and smile. She gave him a nod. Approval. Remarkable. And her fellow old-timers seemed to be having similar reactions, despite themselves. Good, but they weren't the real test: that came with the arrival of an entire tribe, albeit a small one, from one of the distant isles. Children, men and women, who'd traveled a long way to celebrate. They spread out, looking for their favorite foods and the best of the alcohol, and within the hour, the dancing had begun.
That first tribe set the tone as more and more guests arrived. There was feasting, drinking, dancing, and even the smell of greenhand smoke started to permeate the air. The guests were dressed in the traditional Tlem fashion, of course: the men in their turbans, airy shirts and baggy pants, all covered in decorative patterns of every color. The women in their just-tight-enough gandoras, just as decorated and colorful as the men's. Everyone had at least a bit of jewelry too, armbands, earrings, necklaces, and piercings of all kinds. Some, men and women, wore a traditional and very revealing article that amounted to little more than a sheet, with a hole for the head and the sides left open for freedom of movement. Such confidence!
It had been a long time since Almas had seen so many Tlem together, celebrating like this, but the event wasn't entirely for them. No, any Routais or guest could come and experience the Tlem at their best too, indeed, it was encouraged! How else could they know what they were missing, not being born to such a people? How else could the king know who he was the king of? Yes, Almas thought, anyone who comes here will remember it.
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Post by Retrograde on Mar 6, 2018 21:09:12 GMT
Marielle wandered to St. Arno's Lake while attempting to not make too much of a fuss. That she was going to be recognized was inevitable - not only was she the most well-known Tlem woman in all the kingdom, but she was also dressed with a takchita in the traditional green of the Tenderheart clan. A few people stopped her to talk on the way in, looking excited as ever to take part in what was the largest gathering of Tlem outside of the Islands ever. She politely conversed with them, but was more than eager to get moving and meet with Almas and the others. Not to mention she was getting rather thirsty and knew a healthy mug of mead would do wonders for her.
She had been trying to arrive early, but it seemed that with all the days that she ended up more or less on time. She sashayed to the music as it played, seeing some seared, spiced fish being served on a stick at a free stall and taking two of them, waving to the owner and heading off deeper into the crowd. People were dancing everywhere, and it actually quite hard to get where she was going. She couldn't bring herself to actually be annoyed, however. It was nice to see that her people were actually enjoying themselves. It had been what she had fought for, in the end.
Finally, she laid eyes on him. Almas Wildeye, Master of the Brewers Guild. Using the intensity of the crowd, she was able to sneak up on him without even really trying. She leaned up and over his shoulder, handing him a stick of seared fish.
"Here you go, uncle," she said, speaking in Tlemkhet and using the traditional term of familiarity for an older man. She did not know Almas much at all, but she wanted to throw him off and besides, she planned to be making friends with him anyway. It was important that the Tlem with positions of power in society stuck together. Otherwise, there was always going to be a chance things returned to like they were before. "A gift from Clan Tenderheart."
She grinned at him, waiting for him to turn around.
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Sabelle walked along the shoreline with Arturas, eyes wide at what she was seeing. She was dressed in Tlem clothing, as was expected, and wore her hair down. She'd taken some effort to straight it a bit, leading to it draping down over her shoulders and to her chest from under her hood. She looked at Arturas occasionally and smiled shyly as she realized just how often her mouth hung open, yet she remained enraptured by the wonder of it all anyway.
"It's beautiful..." she said softly. "Do you have any Tlem in Luska, Sir Cosella?"
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Fernanda sat upon the palanquin, chewing on some taffy that had been brought up from Alendron. She too wore the traditional dress of the Tlem, complete with a replica of a crown that they used for their royalty a long time ago. She had specifically insisted on purple, and was more than elated to find that she was accomodated. She kicked her legs, lost in her own little world. Occasionally, she would look at the belly of the royal guest she was traveling with.
"Auntie," she said, referring to Aelin. Though the woman was not actually her aunt, Arno said she was like a sister to him and that made her an honorary family member in Fernanda's eyes. "Why are you showing your tummy?"
The Tlem were a strange people. She had some as servants when she was even younger, but they had gone away once Arno won the war. Her nursemaid was the only Tlem she really knew outside of Marielle, and nursie didn't really talk much about her own culture. She didn't know that they dressed different or had different music. It was all very confusing. Normally they dressed like normal Routais people. What had changed?
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Post by Zoilus on Mar 6, 2018 22:10:00 GMT
Clan Tenderheart? Could it be...? Almas turned around, and immediately had his suspicions confirmed: Marielle Tenderheart, hero of the Revolution, General of Routaille's armies, Mary Mayhem herself. This was not how he had intended to meet her, but perhaps it was better this way: no formalities, one Tlem to another.
As long as he didn't make a damn fool of himself, anyway.
After waiting perhaps a bit too long, he took the fish. It wasn't one of the more traditional (and expensive) imports, so they must've already been fishing the lake. Ah well. He took a bite, and swallowed it as quickly as possible, "Clan Tenderheart is generous, niece," he said, returning her Tlemkhet and grin. "Organizing a feast for everyone else leaves you surprisingly little time to eat yourself, not that this," he motioned around, "isn't worth it. Doubly so, finally getting to meet you. It really is an honor."
"Let me return the favor, if you have a bit of time to spare. The Guild brought some of its best here, but we're keeping it in reserve for the grand finale. For you, though, a bottle could disappear." Almas motioned for her to follow.
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Aelin and Maximilian sat in the royal palanquin with Fernanda, both increasingly anxious over attending the festival. Despite themselves, they both felt a bit out of place in the Tlem clothes provided, especially Aelin, whose pregnancy was on display for the world to see. Fernanda's questions, of course, were not helping.
Maximilian decided to step in first, "Well, princess, this how pregnant Tlem women dress, or so we were told. Since we're all wearing Tlem clothes, this what your Auntie had to wear if she wanted to attend. We wanted-"
Aelin rolled her eyes at Maximilian, and interrupted, "Sweetie, we wanted see everything Routaille had to offer during our time here. This," she looked down, "is just the dress code. You, on the other hand, look just darling. That crown almost looks as good as as my favorite, way back home!"
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Iudicael Cadeyrn had managed to escape the certain, abject misery of the royal palanquin, and had hired a carriage of his own to take him from Pyracle to the festival. He'd even managed to get the carriage driver to go for half price, once he'd offered him free reign at the festival once they'd arrived. Just as they were about to leave, though, a Routais woman in Tlem dress approached, "Hardly sporting of you! Driver! You must let me pay the rest of the fare, this is the only nice carriage left in the city, and I will be on it!"
Iudicael was not a man to let an opportunity like this pass. "Easy there. If it gets you on this carriage, I'll pay full price for us both!" She raised her eyebrows at him.
"Is that right? Well," she sniffed, "you must save where you can no matter the circumstances," and carefully climbed on board. Iudicael and the carriage drived gave each other a look, and he paid the man, two full fares, before following the woman into the carriage.
"It's going to be a bit of a ride. We as well try to repair the damage that little scene caused to our future friendship. What," he smiled, "is your name?"
Checking her fingernails, she sighed, "I suppose. It's Carline Bruya, if you must know."
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Post by Grim on Mar 9, 2018 15:47:25 GMT
Arturas we seemed to continue to be suprised by Sabelle. She definetly was shy and perhaps a bit simple, but the last little bit she had seemed to grow some. It was actually her idea to come to this festival? Party? He wasn't sure what to call it exactly. He couldn't lie to himself he found himself loving her little shy smile.
He looked over the shore of the lake, it was coved and orderned in the traditional stylings. The colors seemed to cover every color there was. The intricate designs of fabrics on display where a bit breathtaking.
He looked her over as they walked towards the ever approaching tents, Sabelle looked he thought even cuter with her hair all down, it helped her look a bit more mature. He couldn't help but look her way from time time as they walked. Arturas himself was in the traditional clothing, it cost him a fair amount to get a set on short notice, but the was able to create a fine set of clothes made of a grayish blue with intricate designs on it.
"I am sure we do, but unfortunately we probably don't even have a small fraction of those just here at the lake. I wish I knew more about them personal, seem like a great people." He responded in kind to Sabelle's question.
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