House Darius RP

[artemitavik]

Derik Ranloss is seen entering the Lyre and inquiring about the druid Teris. However, Captain Vera gives him no information and none of the bartenders seemed to be around to ask.

The large warrior then left looking mildly annoyed.

[artemitavik]

Derik is seen swinging by the Lyre again, this time apparently looking for Carah and Oth who are out doing whatever it is they need/want to do. He leaves a small message with Capt. Vera and departs.

[abousalif]

A courier from the the Order of the Radiant Heart brings a letter to House Darius addressed to Nathan Goldenmane.

[kersplunk]

OOC Note: The accompanying soundtrack song for this post was written and recorded by my husband specifically for this event.

LINK: Soundtrack - "Divergence"

"...And that's the last place you'll need to look if there's an interruption in the shipments."

Pushing her hair from her face with her thumb, Carah sighed, offering a little smile to Ani before looking away. She promised herself she wasn't going to cry when it came to this, but good gods it was harder than she imagined it would be.

The blond woman smiled back, dipping her chin once with a slow blink. "I've managed to not drown in all this while you were away in Amn, Miss Evenwood," she said reassuringly. "I'll be all right."

Carah rolled her eyes, scoffing through a quiet laugh as she shook her head at the satchel sitting by the door to the office she'd called hers for almost three years now. "How many different ways can I tell you to just call me Carah, Ani?" she chided, side-eyeing her assistant. "I swear I'm running out of ideas."

Ani shot her an impish little grin. "Well, since I don't technically work for you anymore, you can't really tell me what to do, now can you?"

With a little wince and a wrinkle of her nose, Carah huffed, flashing the other woman a bit of a playful obscene hand gesture. "Low blow, Ani... low blow."

Ani laughed, and stepped forward, opening her arms to embrace the Tethyrian. "Come here and give us a hug," she teased, and Carah was only too happy to oblige.

They lingered in the tight embrace in silence for several moments, eyes closed, standing in the middle of the office that had been cleared of Carah's personal effects.

"Nathan's right, you know," Ani whispered, sighing heavily. "You can come back anytime if you change your mind."

Carah didn't answer immediately, remaining in the hug for several seconds more before parting, looking the blond woman over and busying her hands and attention by brushing a bit of lint from her shoulders before letting her hands linger on Ani's shoulders. She sniffed, unable to meet her eyes for more than an instant as she blinked away the haze in her vision. Finally, she responded with a small smile and nod. "It's... it's time for this, Ani," she managed to say back in a little voice, fixating on the seneschal's chin. "But... Thank you. I'll definintely remember that."

Ani touched Carah's cheek, and shook her head. "I know," she replied softly. "You'll do wonderful wherever you go from here. And thank you, Carah. I mean that. For everything you've done."

Carah nodded, looking at the floor, and swallowed the lump in her throat with a quick, stubborn wipe at her eyes, laughing quietly. "Gods, look at me," she mused. "I'd better go before I really lose it, huh?"

Ani nodded again, squeezing the Tethyrian's shoulders once more before stepping back. "Be safe in your travels, and congratulations again on your betrothal."

"Thank you, Ani," Carah replied, smiling warmly to her former assistant again. "I mean that."

With a heavy breath, she turned for the door, gathering up her satchel, and reached to turn the knob for the final time. She hestiated, lingering in the bittersweet memories that surrounded her all at once in that moment. Everything that she had come to both love and hate about this place... there was no denying that while she needed to move on with her life, this House would always be an irreplaceable part of it.

She had thought on this for many a moon now. The people here would always be her family; she loved them, and nothing would ever change that. No matter what disagreements they would have, no matter how much she knew she needed to leave this place and this city behind, she would always love them. But the time had come for her to move on. So many people had told her that she needed to do things for herself as well, and she was well past the point of realizing that they were right.

She deserved to be happy, too.

The knob turned with a click, and the door opened to reveal the hallway. To the left, the dormtories and the room she had called home for three years. To the right... the portal to the road ahead. The next chapter of her life, and the unknown.

[Cinta]

A sun elf dressed in dark leathers arrives in the compound one night, and receives a thick bundle that was left there for her sake. Brows quirk at the shear volume of the papers it contains, then walks up to the bar to order a sherry or something stronger to accompany the read. A quiet and separated corner is chosen, she spends the next few candlemarks there.

[Izsu]

The night of the 16th of Tarsakh has the peace interrupted as a shrieking cackle erupts from the private room section of the Lewd Lyre, echoing throughout the hallways. Over the ensuing minutes it devolves into angered screaming in a foreign tongue, continuing until the woman's voice gives out some time later as an uneasy silence settles in. The guards remain at their posts exchanging confused looks with eachother.

A rather tired-looking tiefling woman exits the back rooms, making her way to the bar where she haphazardly grabs two random bottles, carrying them with her in a bucket as she walks back whence she came.

(( ))

[Fire Wolf]

The rarely seen Gondsmith Cicero was drawn from his lair as he worked hard alongside the golems in the Lewd Lyre to try to keep the building as much in one piece as possible as destruction rained down.

[Izsu]

Ever since Mystra's deathrattle echoed throughout the Realms, the skittish tiefling woman often seen in the company of House Darius has been nowhere to be seen, be it within their holdings or the city itself.

[Fire Wolf]

In the Darius estate, a strangely intelligent rooster wanders about dropping off folded pieces of paper addressed to each member of the house. Oddly, these papers seem to be apology letters for the rooster's behavior over the years. It seems the current chaos has been an awakening for the usually misbehaving familiar.

[Oarthias]

I would like to place an order for two large sharks to be delivered to Doron Amar.

~Councilor Vanira

(this part seems to have been added as an afterthought.) Add two bubbly pies to that as well.

[Izsu]

Following the events of the 7th of Marpenoth, the grey tiefling woman usually sighted around House Darius' holdings is no longer seen in their company after the strange and sudden events in the Palace District that night. Details are slim, though some passersby noted upon seeing her and the company's chamberlain in a hushed conversation before she left.

[Shadowspinner70]

An elven woman with colorfully dyed hair leaves posters posted in front of the Lyre, throughout the rest of Baldur's Gate city, and at the Friendly Arm Inn. She whistles as she works and doesn't leave any poster she puts up until the glue dries.

((OOC note I forgot to add! The game nights will be hosted on Mondays at 6 pm est, starting on the 21st!))

[Tantive]

A sun elven woman, dressed in decorative mail and a sword on her hip, entered the Lyre and went to the dining area. She looked if anyone was on duty to serve customers, then headed to the waiting hall. She sat there for some time, enjoying a piece of fruit. But her attention would follow to any one entering the establishment, in particular those that might be an elf. The waiting sunelf may seem familiar to someone frequenting the city a number of years ago.

[Shadowspinner70]

The assigned day for game night has shifted.

((Because of RL scheduling issues, game night will now be held on Thursday nights around the same time! Thanks for being patient.))

[Blackhorizon]

On 20 Flamerule 1359 a group of visitors entered the Lewd Lyre. The staff would say that apparently they were looking for Mr Off or rather Mr Oth. One of them left a note on a napkin addressed to Mr Off.