(LOG) Feast of Ghosts

[#] The evening of the great Feast has arrived, and every soul is dressed in their very finest, from the lowliest peasant, to the King, himself. The tables in the great diningroom groan beneath the sheer weight of the fare atop them. Roasted boar and fowl, broiled fish, shellfish brought all the way from the coast, syllabubs, vegetables, fruits, puddings, nuts, pies, cakes, pastries, and the richest wines the kingdom has to offer. In the midst of it all dwell the ethereal guests of honor. Though they cannot physically touch, nor taste, they are still present to experience the wonder of the feast through their earthy descendants and aquaintances. A night of wonder, it will be, and fill of mystery, and startling surprise. The Queen, clad in all of her splendor, awaits in the diningroom, ready to welcome one and all.

Danele Valenti stood in the great hall, clad in her velvet finery, and appearing every inch her regal self. Despite the sheer number of ethereal figures surrounding her, all seeming to speak at once, Danele was quite relaxed. There was little need for nervousness, for as long as everyone did as they were bid, then the spirits would be satisfied. The hall was a sight to behold, bearing a myriad of smells from roasted meat, to sugary concoctions, to candle wax from the hundreds of lit candles. The bell had been sounded. Now, it was time for everyone to arrive.

Leon Alexander walks in slowly from the stables and it indeed was very much warmer in here, he could tell just by passing though the door. He had cleaned up very well and even had his hair tied back into a ribbon and he hardly looked like the servant boy he started here as. His eyes grew wide at the sight of everything, so they had been working very hard in here while he was working hard in the stables. Amazing he thought to himself, not yet uttering a word as he watched others entering and wondered when they ghosts would show up and hoped he was prepared for it all.

Colletta Bodelle sat on the rug in the main hall, dressed in one of her mother's finest outfits. The soft shades of amethyst played perfectly with the tumbling chestnut curls. How useless the woman felt as she remained still as her mind tumbled about the festivities. Taking a quick look around, she frowned lightly. Osanna was no where to be seen. The beast had left her to her own fate. Perhaps she was still getting ready? One could only hope. Her fingers intertwined with themselves as she simply took it all in. At least the fireplace was warm and her leg didn't feel like it was exploding from the inside out. Fates be damned if she hadn't already popped the stitches at least three times already. Best not go for four.

Airina- the little spirit of the girl looked around the room, the audible sound of awed gasp emitted form her form. She tiptoed up to the head royalty present, the Queen, curtsying. "Everything looks wonderful this eve, Your Higness" she smiled up and looked around, finding the familiar face of Garnett and her baby. Nothing could stop the bee-line approach of the crown princess. "M'lady! You look very lovely" she beamed. Everything the little ghost did was sweet. "And you kept your promise!" all the food the little girl discussed with Garnett was present. "I can't wait to eat it all!"

Synaria ran into the room, heart racing from the ghostly sword that had dangled above her head. Her men came running after her, trying to keep up as ran. When she saw the gathering she slowed her pace, henna inked hands running up to brush at the rogue locks of her hair. Gaze frantically searched the crowd for someone to hang onto, but she found no one. But, really, who had she expected? Raij? Ha, even to keep up appearances she would have found it hard to cling to him. Ys? Only if she wanted to hang. No, there was no one to calm her fear. It was up to her alone. Taking a deep breath she approached the table and offered a low bow to them all, yet stayed silent.

Midnight Valenti emerged from the gardens sniffing his way through the enticing smells. A pink tongue ran over his black canine lips eagerly. The pup was starving. After spending time in the stables with Leon, he seemed well rested. A small wag of his tail followed in the wolf's wake. His big wet nose sniffed the air for his human. The assualt on his nose was ungodly and brought a sneeze forth. He eagerly padded his way over to the red headed royal. The ghosts completely ignored for the time being. Why should he care about the dead?

Uhtred Valenti descended the stairs with his arm crooked to secure his wife's arm, a reassuring smile upon his face. She had been spooked, and there'd been no time to find what had affected her so severely. Women were of course naturally inclined to to be unreasonably afraid of ghosts. So he patted her hand, unable to ease her suitably for the moment, and came to join the unholy and mortal host that awaited them. Such a feast was presented the likes of which he had only seen on these occasions. Almost immediately, his wife was set upon by the little girl of a ghost, one that he could almost find himself liking. "My dear Garnett works miracles, don't you know," he told the spectre, before parting ways with his wife's arm to pull out a seat for her.

Eilella approached the main hall, taking a tentative step and and walkign right back out. No! What was she thinking? It was a feast, and there would be people she knew. Why was she so damned embaressed? Unfolding the fan, she held it over her face, obscuring the frustrated look. Her mother, bless her, had sent her a lovely dress that she should have been flaunting. Eyes sought some familiar face, going from the Princess Garnett, who seemed to be busy with a little ghost, to a few other acquaintances, to Leon, and then to Lottie. She passed by Leon, smiling. "Ah, so you have come out from the stables then? Good, you worked hard to help with this. Now enjoy it." Striding past him, she went to Lottie. "I trust you feel better?" she said under her breath to the woman.

Genton made his way out from the kitchen's with a large belch. The greasy fingers entwined in his red locks holding his head up as he made his way through the throng of ghosts and humans alike. "Outta the way you silly gits!" The broken neck a hideous sight to most in the room. "There's food to be had." He licked his fat lips eager to eat taste the food...well as best he could. "We will see just how good of a cook this current cook is!"

Mokavi arrives just a little later than all the other guests, she's been busy preparing and its resulted in a fashionably late entrance. She emerges from the upper floors and pauses at the top of the stairs to survey the crowd, see and be seen. She descends the stairs then at a leisurely pace and carefully picks her way through the crowd, occasionally brushing up against someone but with a nod and a smile and the occasional "Beautiful dress Milady." whispered to women she passes. Brushing past Leon she pauses a moment, "I'm so happy to see you out of the stables." Hand falls on his shoulder and she goes ahead and makes her way closer to the table.

Garnett had scarcely been able to dress for her trembling, and her stomach felt as though it would keep nothing down, but with the aid of her servants, she emerged pale and noble in the wonderous gown the Queen had gifted her with. Scented oils smoothed her hair into ruddy ringlets, pins holding them in place on the crown of her head so they hung in regal fashion to frame her face and throat, gems glittering on her hair and neck. For all the glamour of her ensemble, she felt distant, her cheeks drained of colour beneath her careful powders, but it was Uhtred at her side that kept her knees from giving out on her, her thin hand resting formally on his arm, chin high. Pale eyes widened at the rush of the child toward her, and she managed as wide a smile as she could, though it wasn't much. "Thank you, dear one. You look lovely." Cheeks managed to rosy at Uhtred's fine complement, her head dipping though a small look of alarm flitted over her face when he stepped away from her. Gratefully, she followed him to her seat, a beaming smile shot toward him along with a pleading look to stay at her side.

Danele Valenti smiled at the small spirit of Airina. Well, that was a first compliment. Not off to a bad start, that was for sure. As everyone began to mill in, she looked upon the glittering finery. The sound of rustling silk and velvet was almost musical to the Queen's keen ears. A brush against her hand brought her gaze down to touch on Midnight. Not surprisingly, a large smile followed. Her pale fingers sank into the thick, onyx fur on the back of his neck. "Even you look quite fine, my friend. Tonight, you will feast with the rest of us." Then, Genton made his infamous appearance. "Sir Cook, I do trust you to be on your best behavior this eve, lest no one will be able to eat." The backlash he would recieve from the spirits would be like none other if this feast was ruined.

Colletta Bodelle nodded her head softly upon catching Eilella's nod. A soft laugh passed her lips as she contemplated the true answer to that question. The nightmares had become steadily worse, however the current physical pain seemed subdued. "I am well enough thank you Lady Ella." Her voice just as low and peaceable as she kept her eyes to the ground,

Scorn Falor walked in through the wall and looked about the main hall, they had done a good job and as far as he saw everyone dressed very nice and the sught of the food, well he wished he could still eat, drink, and taste it all. He smiled but paused as he felt something stage and he stayed put, what was this he felt? His gaze cast towards Synaria and he just smiled at her.

Leon Alexander smiles when he saw the Queen and bowed to her slowly in greeting and stood up straight, wanting to present himself very well to everyone and all the spirits and the little girl was the first he saw. "Good evening your highness." He said to the Queen then glanced over his shoulder to Eilella and smiled. "Yes I have, this is a very important feast and Lordknight gave me the say to come." He said then felt a hand on his shoulder and he smiled. "Thank you Mokavi." He said to her then noticed, Uhtred and bowed to him. "Evening Lordknight, Princess Garnett, and you too Midnight." He said softly.

Julius Descartes stood against the wall, away from the outer fringes of the circle of royalty and servants. He was not one to... socialize. Knowing the importance of the event, he had realized that it would be the largest gathering of the residents in the area and it would be useful to listen to the conversations. It was the best chance to gather observations and to glean what he could of their personalities. He chastised himself for being so paranoid beneath his breath, continuing his odd habit of mumbling to himself when he was thinking. Julius let his gaze roam across the room, taking in what he could yet trying hard to avoid eye contact lest it lead to an inevitable conversation. He was garbed in his usual clothing, but he had taken the time to wash his clothes and shine his boots. The chains wrapped about his arms had been hidden away, though he had decided to leave his daggers in case of an emergency. Yes, at this kind of an event, an emergency was bound to happen.

Midnight Valenti wagged his tail happily at the feeling of the Queen's elegant fingers through his blackened fur. A small lick was given to her hand as he leaned up against her peaceably. His head canted towards the ghost that the Queen had so duely addressed. These humans, dead and alive both were something else. A shake of his entire body showed the comforr that seemed to overtake him. At the sound of Leon's voice, he simply wagged his tail all the more.

The Nameless Lady appeared from no where with a pulse, the deep green, followed by the rest of her. The soft spoken woman who looked so like the Crown Princess hung back from the crowd, eyes staying locked on that flame of red hair that looked so much like her own for a long while. But she did not approach. Instead she looked to the back of her husband's head and there she let it rest.Arms folded together the shock of green pulsing almost continuously. So much food, she was almost afraid.

Genton mouth gaped open as he looked to the Queen. "Here now love! Tis nothing quite like that! I'll be on my best behavior just for the likes of such a lovely queen as ye'self." In a kind gesture, the phantom brought his hand forward in an akward dipping bow of the head. "Now if you'll excuse me. I'd like to get a bit more comfortable." The ghost set his head rather delicately for a change, upon his shoulder and settled into his seat.

Synaria felt the eyes upon her, head turning toward the silent, grinning ghost. She felt the chilly finger of fear roll down her spine, but she managed to smile back with a gracious nod of her head. "Good evening." She said gently before her bright blues wandered elsewhere, so much happening, and the cook, Oh gods was he a disgusting and terrifying display. She wanted to sit, her knee's feeling as though they'd buckle under her at any moment, but she waited. Finger latching onto her rings and twirling them around the flesh.

Danele Valenti inclined her head to all who greeted her. "Good evening, everyone, and welcome to the Feast. Please, make yourselves comfortable, eat, drink, and be very merry. And just remember, this is the eve where anything is possible. The King will be joining us momentarily." As usual, Wyld had a few things to attend to before he could free himself for the evening. " May I also say that each and everyone of you look absolutely splendid!" It was a wonder she did not clap her hands together. Without further ado, she reached over to the table and plucked up a slab of roasted beef, then held it down to Midnight.

Airina smiled up to Garnett. "That dress looks even prettier on then when I saw it before!" she gazed up at the princess. "If I would have growed up, I would want to look like you!" She would never intentionally make anyone feel upset about her prospects, especially not the friend she had found in the Princess. The little one looked around. "That is the Princess Synaria, right? She looks really pretty too!" she recognized most of the people, with the exception of the lady in red and gold and the wolf pup. And the boy who had addressed Garnett and Uhtred previously. "Who is that?" she pointed to Eilella.

Wyldrigrenkledrysllthen was preceded by a short column of finely-clad guards into the Main Hall, clasping his trembling hands behind his back. His face showed no fear, however; he'd been to too many of these feasts to feel more than a twinge of the macabre. The only exception to his regal attire came in his lack of arms...he would not insult the ghouls by presenting weapons to them, some of which had been lain to rest by the sword and axe. The men of his honour guard flanked him silently, each looking grim. The King seemed oblivious to the pockets of conversation between the living and the dead, and addressed all equally. "Each one of us has assembled on this evening to honour those who came before us. There is no need for any among you to fear while in my Hall and under my roof. Those who still draw breath would do well to honour those who do not; the next feast you attend might be from the other side of the Veil." Wyldrigrenkledrysllthen glanced to the guards, who silently took up positions about the room. "Settle at your plates, and let us begin." He brought his great hands together for an ear-splitting clap. Almosti mmediately afterward the air hummed with an odd sound, like water rushing through hollow copper pots, which slowly resolved into the distorted sounds of an undread band of musicians, just beginning to play.The King took his seat at the highest chair and expected everyone else to follow his lead.

Midnight Valenti moved forward and took his place behind the Queen. A quick flop to the floor brought him to rest behind her with a simple wag of his tail. Perhaps he would adopt the Queen for his new human. The woman Garnett didn't allow him to sleep in the bed any longer and the smells that issued from the bedroom....he was much happier in the stables, sleeping amongst the hay. A delicate nibble was given to the hunk of meat that was passed to him. If he'd been taught anything it was that one with food should never be bitten. His ears flicked forward as the King made his entrance. A slight grumble of what appeared to be protest. However when everyone began sitting, he stayed close to the Queen, opting to flop behind her chair. Afterall, she had the best goodies.

Scorn Falor smiled and bowed, this was the first smile he had pt on in ages and he sat down slowly in his seat. In front of the wine no less and dipped his head down then glanced at Synaria. "Do not fear me." He said but there was more meaning behind that, a chuckle rumbled from him and he looked up to her more. "Tis a feast Milady, you should be..." He paused as the king began to speak, by the number of guards and how they were garbed he knew they were for the king. Sitting down as the king did he bowed his head slowly. "Your Magisty." He said softly.

Garnett found the movement and shimmering and scents all quite overwhelming, thus missing the entrance of her wolf. Belatedly she lifted a finger to call to him, only to find the beast already settled with food. An uneasy smile slipped toward Synaria as she held out a hand. "Do sit by me, sister." Eyes bulged at the little ghost girl's energy, the words on her growing up making the poor princess even more wan. "Yes, child, that is Princess Synaria..and that is Lady Eil-" Immediately with the entrance of the King, she cut off her words, one finger pressed to her lips with a pointed glance to Airina. Silently, she listened to the King's brief address, shivering at the musical close.

Uhtred Valenti gave Leon a slow nod, smiling as thinly as a lordknight should and giving the lad a cuff on the shoulder. "Good to see you're arse isn't too sore for sitting," he told the lad, giving the queen a slight glare. He had not read his letter, not yet, and so the old animosity was still upon him as he took his seat beside his wife. Oddly enough, he felt eyes boring into the back of his head. He turned around and, for the first time, locked eyes with the woman who matched her. A tilt of his head was given, but he could not focus for too long, for his father had come. Something like a smile came over Uhtred's face. Oddly enough, he'd missed his somewhat nightmare of a father. A little nod was given as he took his seat... right in front of a roasted pig. Ah, yes. Life was good. Sod the ghosts. This was a time to eat! Never mind that strange stare at his head...

Colletta Bodelle brought her eyes to rest upon Princess Synaria. The poor woman looked terrified. Was it the ghosts or for other reasons? Time could only tell. A kind smile was sent to the foreign lady, who was doubtless terrified by the odd customs of the dead. A quick glance was returned to Ella, only in time to hear the King's entrance. She bowed her head low and listened with little interest in the speech that went about year after year. As everyone began to file to their seats, Lottie motioned a servant girl over. "Grab a guard and ask him to assist me." Once the guard made his way over and helped her up, she eased her way into a seat closest to Genton. Once a servant, always a servant in death and in life.

Danele Valenti smiled quite brilliantly when Wyld finally made his appearance. How handsome he was, in all of his finery, and every inch the King he was. Once he had spoken and taken his seat, she followed suit, of course, and took her place at his side, followed by Midnight. If she caught Uhtred's glare, she made no indication of it. "We have quite the feast tonight, your Majesty. What will tempt your pallette?" Was she offering to serve him? It seemed like it. Another juicy tidbit was offered to the wolf, followed by a stroke between his ears.

Julius Descartes felt a faint smile pull at his lips, turning the corners upwards the slightest degree. Naturally, people were being put off by the presence of ghosts and were making an especially hard effort not to show it. He could see it in the little motions, the slow fidgeting they hoped wouldn't give them away, as they talked in louder then usual voices or voices gone much too quiet. Of course, the crowd quieted down with the apperance of the King and gave great attention intently to his regal demands. The smile that had given such a quick appearance left his visage, leaving his usual stoic expression. Eyes still roaming, he found them focusing on Colletta's familiar face, who would perhaps give him some amicable quiet while everyone ate. He followed everyone else to teh table, taking his seat next to Colleta and greeting her with one of his almost unseeable smiles.

Eilella smiled at Lottie. "I'm glad you are feeling somewhat better, then. I hope to see more recovery in the future" she gave the woman a kind look. There were....so many people; living and deceased. It was a bit intimidating at first. The woman moved to take a tentative seat , still hiding behind her fan. Eyes stayed on the little ghost and she smiled brightly to Garnett. "Good evening, M'lady" she called to the princess. No corset, she took it to be a sign of good fortune. "How are you this evening?" It had been long since she spoke to the Princess and was anxious of her health.

Mokavi can't see the king from her small height but she can hear him quite clearly and she listens to his speech with a keen ear and eager expression. She doesn't make to move to the table however when the invitation is made, her stomach is in knots from having so many ghosts about and she doesn't feel like she could take a single bite to eat. Despite her display of bravado and flirting she's a wreck and she heads for the back of the crowd with her head low, muttering polite 'excuse me's as she tries to slip away unseen.

Garnett edged over in her seat to press lightly against Uhtred's side, looking as though she might rest her head on his shoulder childishly, but she caught herself, straightening with a nervous blush. A shiver coursed over her spine, a glance around the room showing her that ghost that was much like herself, feeling near tears at the words she'd spoken. Tearing off a piece of roast fowl, she clicked her tongue at her wolf, trying to entice him close to her for she'd seen little enough of him lately. "Midnight, to me." She called gently, her gaze lifting to the Lady Ella with a faint smile. "Quite well, Lady Eilella, and you? Have you had the opportunity to meet my husband, Prince Uhtred yet?"

Leon Alexander watched the king enter and speak and as he looked to where he sat he noticed the ghostly knight and looked away from him. He appeared young and feeling Uhtred's hand he nodded. "Yes Lordknight, though a little sore I may be that would not be a good excuse to miss a feast as this don't you agree?" He asked with a smiled and moved to take seat by his side then bows his head to everyone. He hoped he looked well enough though he really did feel sore and his workouts after working and doing his duties in the stables didn't make it any easier. He looked up and caught Mokavi seeming to try and move away, his gaze fixed on her for a moment before he looked down. Perhaps she was just trying to find a seat.

Genton shifted his shoulder so he could see the new King's face. Soon enough he too would be rotting in his grave, looking forward to this teasing occasion of senses with taste, smell and touch. The fat chubby fingers worked up through the long decrepit strands atop his skull, pulling it up to nod forward in another delicate bow. "Well thankee for havin' us." The ridiculous grin passed over his fat grubby cheeks. His eyes turned to the food as his mouth began to water. In his excitement, the grip loosened, sending the fat round head crashing to his chest with a bounce. "There it goes again. Every damned time. You'd think I'd not eaten before."

Synaria nodded to Scorn, though her eyes never really landed on him for too long. "Of course not." She said gently to his words on her fear. Thankfully the King's entrance stopped any other awkward words that may have came from her mouth and she slowly settled down into the seat Garnett had pointed out. Teeth grasped the inside of her already shredded cheek and she made a show of looking over all the food before looking around at the crowd, giving a small smile to Lottie and a faint nod of her head. Gods if she could only find means of escape. But, there was none to be had. With a sigh she looked back to the wines upon the table and reached for an already full glass in front of her. If there was any time to get toasted, this would be it.

Wyldrigrenkledrysllthen looked with approval as the gathered nobility sprang forth to obey him; it would not do to have the Courtesans of old look upon him as a weak or unworthy ruler. Men with names he'd only read about as a child were gathered around the table, most standing and looking longingly at the dishes piled high. He acknowledged his wife with a cordial nod and dutiful peck upon her cheek, just to show the proper amount of affection; the passion which burned within him was no one else's business. He took the lead in tearing into a roast duck, racing his son to be the first to plant lips around foodstuffs. He gulped the first bite as quickly as he could, and was rewarded with a slight nod of longing from a near ghost. After he gulped the bite down he inclined his regal head to Genton. "Thank you for attending," he allowed, before returning to his meal.

Midnight Valenti took the meat delicately once more between his massive jaws, chewing at the food gently. The last thing he wanted to smell was fear. A small wag of his tail was given at the tasty tid bit the Queen had given. The sound of his human's voice brought his massive head up. The click be damned. He was hungry! A quick lick was given to the Queen's hand before he padded his way eagerly towards his human. The taste of the delicious meats watering his mouth, causing the pink tongue to drip drool on the palace floor.

Airina looked up at the woman who had addressed Garnett. "Lady Eil? Oh, Eilalla" she mused. "Pretty." The little ghost looked up at the King's entrance, eyes widening at the sight of his entourage. "Ooh" she exhaled. "That's the king?" windend as sought Garnett and then back to the King. Generally, she would have approached him and given him her sweetest look but the sight of him intimidated her slightly, enough to where she hung back by Garnett and Uhtred, to whome she gave that sweet smile. "Good evening, your Lordship" she curtsied. "It's very nice to meet you. Princess Garnett only says nice things about you!"

Danele Valenti accepted the polite, and dutiful kiss, then nodded when a plate was offered her. However, the moment she set her eyes on the sliver of roasted boar she had been given, her stomach began to roll. Discreetly, she pushed it to the side, sad to see Midnight had gone, and picked up one of the freshly baked rolls. Bread. That would settle her belly, for sure. She chewed in silence, listening to the surrounding coversation.

The Nameless Lady slid closer to the table, gaze finally moving from Uhtred as she stood, hovering behind Garnett. Pale, watery gaze floated around all of the people, finally landing on the King, and locked there, between he and his wife. She cared not for the other spectres, and usually she cared little for the food, but... it was growing on her, that need to taste, to touch, to smell the things that were so close, even if they were like smoke curling through her fingers, leaving her with but vague wisps. Head cocked then, noticing the woman trying to escape and she gravitated to her. "Why do you not sit?" She asked Mokavi gently, hand reaching out as if to touch the woman, but she did not.

Colletta Bodelle looked over to Genton with a shake of her head. "Honestly, in death you're not safe from me either cook." She wiggled a finger at the disgusting creature. Honestly she couldn't help herself. The fat old fart made her giggle. At the sound of the chair moving besides her, she turned to see Julius. A warm smile worked its way over her lips. "Oh you're that guard from the other night." A hard blush leeked over her feautres. "You will forgive my frame of mind..." She allowed the words to drop off into nothing nervously as her fingers curled around the fabric in her lap. She'd never been so embarressed in all her life.

Scorn Falor looked at the wines which he liked the most along with the roasted game but he waited, still seeming to have what honor he died with though he was ready to grab a glass and down it even if nothing could be done of it. He looked at the young ghostly girl,she seemed hyperactive and he wondered if he was like that as a child. It didn't matter, he couldn't remember as it was too long ago.

Mokavi is caught trying to sneak away and she pauses, cringing visibly. What a terrible thing to happen! Caught not only sneaking off but by one of the ghosts they're supposed to be honoring and respecting! Putting on a brave pace she stops, turns around neatly and bobs a polite and swift courtsey. Her voice is lowered so as to not disturb those at the table, speaking as privately as possible with the ghost. "I came out of respect Milady. I have a great many duties to take care of." Her words are a little choked, she's been preparing and looking forwards to this all day and now she's left feeling ill and overwhelmed and completely unfit to share the table.

Genton laughed loudly at the woman's words. "We shall see about that my fair lady." The King's words brought a smile over the fat face. "Thank you Highness. It's always a pleasure to be able to come and taste food. Recipies evolve and it's not doubt that the roast duck is my old recipie." A slight frown went over his features as he sampled a portion for himself, head boucing lightly with each chew. "Well now the rotter's gone and done it! How the hell did he screw up roast duck!" A huff passed over his lips. "You'll forgive the horrendous taste King. I'm capable of higher quality than this!" Despite all the complaints, the ghost continued to eat the duck.

Uhtred Valenti scoffed at Leon and called him earsling, but the reality of the matter was that he was enjoying himself. He felt himself relax visibly as the ghost's eyes gravitated away from the back of his skull. The other, littler dead woman was received graciously, but only after he took his hand away from the blood pudding that he was precisely three inches away from swallowing whole. "Good e'en to you, m'lady," he said to her with a seemingly suave grin. But when she told him of the nice things Garnett said, he appeared to look appalled. "And you believed her?" he asked the girl, before shifting his face into an crooked grin. He couldn't be too concerned with all of this polite talk, however, for the blood pudding looked delicious. When he bit into it, blood exploded in his mouth and a trickle dribbled down his beard.

[#] A great number of sevants circled the table, and hall, ready to dispense whatever beverages were desired. Everything from wine, to a variety of liquors, to hot tea and juices, were available. In addition, there was the inevitable champagne. One passing servant did have the discreetness to offer the Prince Uhtred a fine, cloth napkin.

The Nameless Lady shook her head to the woman and pointed back toward the table. "There is no business on this day, even the servants have been granted time from their duties. You will sit, and you will eat." She tried to sound demanding, her veins pulsing with that deep green ooze. "The King would not be pleased if you did not." There was no hard look in her eyes, instead they were soft, and she appeared utterly concerned with the woman's well being. "Please. Join the rest. I will come with you." The woman without a name held her hand out to Mokavi, but quickly took it back, remembering how unpleasant her 'touch' had been to her live near twin Garnett.

Julius Descartes nodded his acknowledgement of her words and cocked his head to the side as he watched her fidget. Women tended to be much more open with their nervousness and the ghosts seem to be bringing out strong emotions among the people. Julius was unfazed though, their ethreal forms causing feelings of comfort within him and allowing him to relax more then he usually would. Taking up his utensils, he cut away pieces of roast and lay them on the side of his plate in a neat pile that he did not bother to eat. He was making the motions, but he prepared his own meals instead of giving someone the chance to poison his food. He brought his focus back to Colletta, curious about the outcome of the stitches he had put in her leg the other night. "I trust you are doing better?" His voice was subtly soft, like the purring of a contented cat.

Garnett managed a small giggle when he teased the little ghost, her eyes taking on a faint sparkle. It faded, however, when she saw what Uhtred had chosen to eat, her stomach giving a dangerous lurch. Clearing her throat, she turned to smile overly brightly at Synaria. She searched her face, lips twisting apologetically for leaving her to the terrifying ghost. Tea was taken gratefully when it was offered, Garnett sipping slowly as her free hand slipped back to scritch Midnight behind the ears. She offered the wolf more tidbits of meat before wiping off her hand and settling it beneath the table on Uhtred's thigh, still not daring look at him...and feeling eyes of a few ghosts on her disapproving for she'd not eaten yet.

Eilella pulled down the fan, smiling graciously. "Quite well, M'lady" she responded to Garnett. "Quite well indeed" she smiled and hid a small laugh at Uhtred's response to the little ghost. "M'lday, it seems to me you and your husbad have found a little friend" she nodded politely to the adolescent spirit. Taking her usual mint tea, the woman dug into the fine food, resisting the urge to wrinkle her nose at the obese ghost. It was a time to honor them. All of them. The duck seemed fine to her! She kept her mouth shut, with the exception of stuffing her face.

Leon Alexander looked around for someone but he did not see her anywhere, a look of disappointment was in his eyes for only a moment before he smiled and watched Midnight come back to Garnett's call. "Such a wonderful night." He said and though he looked at the food he did not touch, gaze quickly going back to Mokavi as she came back. He heard Uhtred call him by earsling though he just smiled, they both appeared to be enjoying themselves. He watched Uhtred eat the blood pudding and he slowly looked to the roast game in front of him and from the broth and bread he had been eating this was a slice of heaven not to have any puns intended.

Colletta Bodelle applied herself to the food, shaking her head at Genton's protest. She worked her weathered hands into a pile of rolls and extracted the perfect one before ordering champagne. No shame in it since everyone seemed equal tonight. The servant quickly brought her peer a glass and set it upon the table. A few other dishes were sampled before she brought her own focus back to Julius. "Yes...they are well enough. I am hoping that is the last time I will have to have them." Her voice was hushed amongst the din of guests. She really didn't want in known that she had to get new st- what the hell was that?! The wolf caught her attention and caused the woman to tremble. And it was so close to Garnett! The woman nearly lost her cool composure before realizing it seemed to be a pet. A shudder danced over her spine. "Ug. Wolves."

Airina blinked again. "T-the Princess...would never lie to me" she sniffled. But as she saw others smiling, even Garnett herself, it became apparent it was a joke. Which made her go "oh" but the little ghost perked up. "Oh, m'lady!" she turned around. "Mama is here with her ladies" she pointed over to a group of women, one looking particularly royal. That one looked with disapproval upon everyone, ghost and living both. "I got her to show up" she smiled.

Mokavi was on the verge of reaching out for the namless lady's hand herself, momentarily relaxed as she's caught offguard. "If you insist Milady." She naturally gravitates towards Leon, him being the only person besides one other at the table that she knows. A spare glass is taken and she takes up a bottle of wine too, apologetic glances all-round while she pours herself a single glass and puts the bottle back. Shakily she brings the glass to her lips and takes a sip, so utterly shocked by the confusion and importance of the occasion that she can barely hear anyone else talking, the roar of conversation and feasting but a background murmur to her.

Scorn Falor lifts a glass and a bottle of champagne and poured himself some then set the bottle down and looked at the King and Queen and lifted the glass to them and then he did the same but to the other ghosts in the room around them. He was quick to drink the wine and chuckled before he grabbed a leg ofroast game and bit into it. Well this was just fine to him and he continued to eat just as the cook and girl seemed to be doing.

Midnight Valenti took the pieces of meat he was offered and licked his blackened lips eagerly. His head canted to the side once the tasty morsels stopped being handed over to him. He was still hungry. You can never feed a wolf too much. A small whine elicited from his throat as he nudged at Garnett's leg. How could she just sit there and touch that other human when he needed food? His glowing yellow orbs came up to look over the table. Ooo. Giving a quick glance to the humans, he brought his massive head up to sniff at the table. If he didn't get caught, he'd swipe a hunk of meat and run to the stables with it.

Julius Descartes chuckled, the sound rumbling deep from within his chest and shaking his shoulders. He was highly amused by her negative reaction to another living creature while she was surrounded by the floating forms of the dead. "Wolves are quite loyal if you can get one in its youth. I wouldn't mind finding one for myself because it would be difficult for me to kill one by accident. They take care of themselves and are helpful in a tight situation." Picking up a rather large piece of roast, he slowly let his hand drop to his side before he loosened his fingers and felt the hunk drop to the floor. Julius was enjoying himself for once and was rather glad that he had decided to come.

Synaria stayed silent, completely. There was too much going on, too many voices, too many hands. She felt the old darkness creeping up on her. The sanity slipping by tiny increments. She couldn't hear their words, couldn't understand them, the fire.. oh god the fire. She jumped, pulled out of the daydream by her own fear and loathing, hand instantly finding her glass and without caring of propriety she drained it. Shaking arm reached out to snag another bottle and fill it quickly. The food before her... was left untouched.

Tyltin Valenti IV appeared before them from the ether, his head bowed and his stance spread as he leaned on his claymore. For awhile, he did nothing, as though he was unfamiliar with the concept of movement. Then, slowly, thin-boned fingers began to clasp and unclasp the hilt of the scabbard. The anima began to flow in his cold veins, and with soft sigh, Tyltin the IV lifted his head and looked upon the congregation. It was not pleasant to suffer his gaze, for they told a story in the form of horrible thoughts. images of broken, splayed bones and women who bled too much from their wombs, children holding the fingers of their left hand in their right while waving the stump in the air for help before the weights around their necks drowned them in the river.

Genton nearly choked on his piece of chicken as the new ghost began to emerge. It brought a shiver, even to the long dead man's somewhat palable body. His head drooped forward, but with a quick shift of his shoulders, it rested back in the usual place. The once rowdy jovial ghost remained silent as he applied himself to the food. No glance was given, no word was spoken, just silent polite eating came from Genton.

Wyldrigrenkledrysllthen caught sight of the Nameless Lady and would have fielded her conversation, but thankfully the woman was distracted by a lowborn girl. Breathing a sigh of relief, he tucked into his food, largely unaware of the action around him...distracted by the weight of attention of the undead, and haunting memories of what had happened the one time he'd refused to serve them the feast. He spoke of that time not at all, even to those who asked. The King nearly choked on his food when he felt the presence of Tyltin Valenti; only a chest-pounding gulp saved him from joining the spirit. Not even the hot meat and vegetables he'd already consumed could stay the chill which stole through his bowels, and he didn't need to turn around to confirm that the venerated, feared Ghost King stood close behind him.

The Nameless Lady nodded happily to Mokavi and stepped aside to allow the woman through. Then hovered beside her, watching her drink. "Eat, please. The duck." She said softly, voice tinkering like distant bells. Pale gaze stayed seared on her, until she felt the presence of Tyltin. Head whipped around and the girl shrank back slightly, moving behind Moka as if the flesh would sheild her. "Avoid his eyes." She said quietly into the woman's ear, her breath like a chill winter's wind. A small warning.

Leon Alexander picked up a cup of tea that was set in front of him and even though he had hopes of trying the wine he would settle for this. He sipped his tea and looked around slowly at the ghosts. The knight, the cook. the girl, the servant, and now who else was this that was showing up? He took a leg of game and bit into it, oh gods did it taste wonderful! Better then broth and bread though when he swallowed he looked up and saw the ghost with the claymore and he nearly dropped his leg but looked over to Synaria who thankfully had broken his stare. But his gaze fell back to the ghostly figure by the king and he bowed back to it slowly. He felt his body grow chilled and he shivered which was not at all normal for Leon.


Garnett followed the point of the little ghost's finger to see the women lingering in a group nearby. Something in that gaze reminded her of her father's wife, and she simply lifted her teacup toward them. The glares though for her not eating were becoming unbearable, and Midnight's whining did indeed net him a meaty bone plucked from the remains of boar ribs and a swat on his head. "Behave, you." She grumbled at him fondly, quite glad he'd returned to her side. Giving in, she began nibbling on a few slices of duck, ignoring the complaints and conversation of it..before a strange sigh broke through the conversation. It chilled her, and she glanced sidelong toward it, ducking away the moment the ghost came into view. She swallowed hard to keep the small scared noise from sounding, but her leg pressed hard into Uhtred, every inch of her trembling violently, the meat in her mouth tasteless.

Danele Valenti opted for a glass of apple cider, and was lifting it to her lips when the long dead King made his arrival. Instantly recgonizing him, she bowed her head in complete, and abject, respect. "Your Majesty," she said softly. The long dead King's portrait still hung in the library, testament to the ancestor of the Valenti's. Gaze slid toward Synaria, then, and a small frown ensued. Her daughter was definitely out of sorts.

Colletta Bodelle shifted in her seat with the appearance of the dread dead King of old. He truely was as terrifying in death as doubtless he had been in life. All thoughts died as she turned to look toward Genton. If the Cook had become silent, so would she. Julius momentarily forgotten as she shuddered lightly in her seat. The woman wanted to scream and run for the hills. She'd heard the tales. Her nightmares couldn't begin to compare to the being that was Tyltin. The terrors of her dreams would be blessings compared to the horrors that Tyltin could bring. Her eyes remained locked to her plate as she ate quietly along with the ghost.

Eilella looked up, startled. The chill that had descended on the crowd found her. She set her tea down, keeping eyes downcast from the ghost King. Eyes went to Garnett and the little spirit. The little one, how different she was from this ghost. The one who caused the feast to be silenced. Hands wrung one another and she bit her lower lip gently.

Synaria caught the old King's entrance, and before she could bring herself to look away, all that horror that he projected slid back into her mind, as it did in the garden. Her daydream had been enough, but now he had plagued her mind again and her glass thumped roughly onto the table, though did not break, and her hand pressed hard against her lips from screaming. Only a small, strangled sound came from her before she finally forced her eyes away from him. Her heart pounded in her ears and she squeezed her eyes shut, missing the Queen's look and frown.

Scorn Falor set his glass down and when he saw the old king he froze and his eyes seemed to shrink as he gazed at this ghost that even put terror into his own dead heart. "Your Honorable Highness.." He said softly and bowed, not crossing his gaze with the dead king's. Everyone seemed to suddenly change and he easily and quickly noticed this.

Uhtred Valenti now understood why Garnett feared this day. Ghosts had never concerned Uhtred. As a lad he had gotten in trouble for fraternizing a bit excessively with a prankster headless torso that sometimes came even when it was not feast time. But to look upon this new spectre, a man whom he did not know, was to fear. His hand drifted below the table, which was a bit rude in the way of manners, but the need to squeeze Garnett's leg both for her sake and his own took priority. His weathered sigh racked his body and he received the images in the way of a man who simply could not look away; eyes wide, unwavering, moistening with saline.

Midnight Valenti felt the presence of evil slipping through the air and quickly ducked his tail to flee for the stables with the meat still in his powerful jaws. There were some things that even the wolf could not protect his human from.

Airina looked up. She had seen that ghost before...he seemed trouble then and even still now. She backed away from the table. Eyes darted to Synaria breifly before she looked down. Was it wrong for her to have talked to that ghost before? She did not know but wished not to find out. The girl sat on the floor, wishing not to draw any sort of attention to herself. Eyes sought her mother's, who even seemed concerned about this spirit.

Mokavi is finding it completely totally and utterly impossible to cope and so she gives in entirely to the ghost lady directing her. She's leaning over the table for a piece of duck when the dead-King enters and a chill sets goosebumps up her arms and a shudder through her whole body. The rest of the group suddenly seem very much less scary. She hears the warning too late and she's looking up to see the new ghost. Horrible horrible images fill her mind and despite her usually strong constitution it's just too much for her to bear. Knees feel weak and her legs turn to jelly as she sinks heavily to the floor right where she'd stood. She's still grasping the slice of duck but her lips tremble and her fingers twitch uncontrollably. She seems listless and unresponsive, head lolling a little forwards.

Tyltin Valenti IV turned on Danele far quicker than he had beheld the congregation, his eyes pounding his hate into her skull. Somehow, his presence made sounds far away, tastes bland and unconcernable... He quelled the life for which he hated them all so. He replied to the Queen's greetings without a sound, but through his eyes the message was somehow clear. YES. MY MAJESTY. MINE. Now his gaze fluttered down to this... king. MINE. It would almost seem childish if the sheer lifelessness wasn't so prevelant. Suddenly, the claymore swept into the air, the point pointing so that if he were to throw it, it would lodge in the dead cook's eyes. TELL YOUR STORY.

Julius Descartes stopped all motions as a series of images blasted through his mind like the chill of cold water. Clenching his jaw and furrowing his brow, Julius felt the muscles of his body tense up as a wave of memories followed after the new images. Waking up to the feeling of suffocation and small hands pressing a pillow in his face. The desperate struggle as he rolled out of his bed and then launched himself at his attacker. And what else could he do to win, but to destroy the source of danger? His fingers had tightened around the other's throat and squeezed with a strength he had never known before. When the body finally lay still, he curled up into the corner of the cell and whimpered. He waited for daybreak in hopes that the light would make everything better, but it had only made it worse. She had just been a girl, barely 12 years old, trying to stop another cellmate from violating her and... His head snapped upwards and the hardness of his face vanished into indifference.

Garnett's guilt at abandoning, or rather being forced to abandon, Synaria in the garden forced her glance up at the woman, eyes anywhere but on the disturbing presence cross the table from her. "Synaria!" She called in perhaps an overly bright voice. "Have you met Rina here?" She beckoned to the little girl after setting her teacup aside. "She's brought her lovely mother too. It's so ki-" Her voice sounded loud in her ears, but the ghost King's was louder, her voice drying up to nothing in her throat as she hunched against Uhtred's side, trying to draw his attention away from the ghost. She knew what he was seeing. Childishly, she tugged on his arm as she whispered his name, offering him a fruit tart that she'd grabbed. Behind her, a several servants scurried to move Mokavi to the cushions by the fire, the woman relieved of her food.

Wyldrigrenkledrysllthen kept turned resolutely to his food in order to avoid the visions which always accompanied any direct eye-contact with the Ghost King. Taking a deep draught of his wine to wash down the hard-swallowed knot of food, he sighed himself to mirror his son. Straightening with the feel of the Ghost King's intense gaze, Wyld dared to look the spectre in the eye, just to show he was not afraid. The overpowering visions were more than a match for anything he himself had done in the name of Nharati, and even though Wyld was steeled for them, he still staggered in his chair. Tearing his eyes away, he shovelled a bit of food into his mouth, knowing what was to come.

You say, "[Correction..she didn't hear Tyltin..but she still shut up]"

Genton brought his head up as he trembled visibly. Those eyes of hate and malice caused the poor portly cook to stutter over his words. "I..I..I was the C..C..Cook for the great house of Valenti. I loved my food." His eyes moved over the various items upon the table. "From the smallest grape to the biggest slab of meat. I loved it all! One of the palace children fell sick. A royal child by the name of Mishia. She was a beautiful little thing that loved to spend time in my kitchen with me. We'd talk for hours about sauces and soups. Sadly she fell ill. I was devistated that the poor child should be sick and brought her food myself so I could check up on her. When she passed, the current King ordered me hung, blaming me for her death and to this day still does." His once jovial face fell as he thought back to the little Mishia.

Leon Alexander set his leg of game down onto his plate as hunger left his body and only a bitter coldness filled him. How he wished she was here and also, how he wished he could see his father or mother but he shook the thoughts from his mind and made sure not to cross the eyes of the dead king. Just then he glanced up and froze, he started to see an image of his mother laying dead in her bed and then one of his father, laying lifeless on a battlefield. Tears appeared at his eyes but he broke away and closed his eyes for a moment, breathing hard as if he had been running miles. In his chest his heart just pounded hard, how he wished she was here by his side right now. His eyes had grown wide and he stared at the table.

Synaria could barely hear Garnett's words, every sound mixed with the next until she thought she would loose the wine she had drank. Ys' face broke through her inward nightmare, the memory of a fierce look in his eye, and it steeled her. He would be shamed if he had seen her cowering this way. A magician does not cower. Right? She breathed in deeply and forced her eyes open. "Yes I've met her." She finally stated quietly, straightening her posturing. She retook the glass and refilled it, drinking heavily as she made a show of listening to the cook's story.

Danele Valenti saw those images, felt that hate, and it damned near doubled her over. That would teach her to show the proper respect! Blindly, she searched beneath the covering of the table until she found Wyld's thigh. Small hand clamped down, as if seeking some type of comfort. Unfortunately, she only half heard Genton's tale.

Wyldrigrenkledrysllthen wathced Genton as the man spoke of his demise, remembering stories from the Valenti perspective, but he held his tongue and his mind lest any of the spirits hone in on his thoughts in the matter. "Thank you for sharing your tale," he said with uncharacteristic politeness. He waited for the next ghoul to speak up; in all his years he'd never figured out a rhyme or reason to the order they spoke in, but he could not complain of the lack of structure. He placed an arm on Danele's shoulder, pulling her into a comforting embrace. Silently a guard gathered up the fainted woman whom the King took no particular interest in, hauling her away from the Feast of Ghosts.

The Nameless Lady flinched as she saw Mokavi look into the King's eyes, and reached out to catch her as she fell. But the woman went right through her grasp, the cold probably enough to shock the poor woman further. With a soft sigh she looked away as the servants hauled her off and settled into watching the cook speak his woe. Finding the place the woman had fallen to crouch down, as if to hide, while gaze still lingered over the food.

Colletta Bodelle kept her eyes glued to the table, fearing what the ghost King would put into her own brain. She moved a hand over to squeeze at Julius's leg firmly. Anything that would help bring him out of the nightmare. Her free hand plucked a roll from the basket and brought it up to her lips. Silent servants went unnoticed most of the time. If there was anything Lottie could do right, it was be silent. The commotion of the fainting woman went largely unnoticed as Lottie simply kept eating. To look up from the plate was to meet terrors far worse than any she'd yet encountered.

Tyltin Valenti IV lowered his claymore and reached for food that he could not have, plucked at the plate so that his fingers impotently slid upon bland-feeling substance that would have made his mouth water if he still possessed saliva. The frustration made his surrounding area feel hot without changing the temperature, and it was obvious to the rest by the way his shoulders quaked with impotence. Some foul dolt of a woman made a small ruckus, and he was far from pleased to see that a ghost was responsible. Instantly, that wicked, broken sword stabbed through the air to aim in her direction. TELL YOUR STORY, he told her with his eyes, his chest seeming to heave with the effort.

The Nameless Lady quivered beneath the weight of those eyes upon her, she shimmered for a moment, all but her gown and that pulsing green substance in her veins winking out of exsistance, as if to hide back in the ether. But she knew better than to completely hide. Slowly her face returned to view, but all that remained of the rest of her limbs was a faint sparkle, and the green. "I..I do not remember my name, do not remember my time, all there is is poison. My love.. he... thought I did something... aweful. B-but I... I did not!" She pleaded to be believed. "He pretended to forgive. H-he had a dinner made..." The deep green pulsed brightly, sliding through every tunnel, her face breaking out in green green lines. "It was posioned." She choked out, almost feeling the pain burning through her again. So close.

Genton was relieved his story was told, though the sadness still hung in his heart. He didn't seem to notice the rest of the world around him. The food had lost it's taste and suddenly the darkness sounded appealing. Somewhat restful sleep awaiting in the shadows of death. His mind bent on little Mishia as he appeared to begin fading. The fat greasy fingers curled into his hair and tugged the head up to rest upon his shoulder more comfortably. The sound of the tormented woman's voice brought him out of his thoughts with a soft nod, facilitated through the greasy fingers upon his head. Perhaps he could comfort the dealy poisoned woman. Betrayal had lead to his death just as easily as it had to hers.

Garnett's eyes seemed glued to the table too, the princess forcing herself to eat mechanically. Stories began to flow over her, her gaze lifting blankly to the cook as he spoke so fondly of little Mishia. Still, she tried to poke soup into her mouth, unable to taste anything but ash in her mouth. A flinch shook her when a quiet voice spoke near her elbow, and she tried to close her ears against the story she'd already heard, but she found herself looking toward that familiar face with agony, lips working on a silent apology, and she surprised herself, extending one hand, palm up for that terrifying chilling sensation..a gesture of comfort though the woman could never feel it.

Leon Alexander gripped his own legs so tight he felt a twinge of pain, bu that was just barely enough to calm him but he was still shaking and almost stated to lean to Garnett but he stopped himself before anything happened. He whispered the words father and mother softly and tightly held his legs, taking slow breaths to calm himself and it was slowly starting to work but for how long? His hunger and thirst were long gone, gaze moved to Garnett and he looked up at her then to Uhtred and slowly back to the table.

Wyldrigrenkledrysllthen's attention shifted to the Nameless Lady, only then seeing her resemblance to his daughter-in-law. His eyes widened for a moment, but another long gulp of wine helped to clear his mind, his ears peeled for her story. Her shimmering disappearing act caused him to blink and gulp once again, but he did not look away. He took a deep breath, remembering her tale even as she told it, but he could not allow any empathy to show on his features, even as the story tore at his heartstrings. His gaze turned swiftly to Garnett when the girl reached for the Nameless Lady, preparing to speak up, but his voice failed him at the last instant. After a moment's breath he nodded. "Thank you for sharing your tale with us," he allowed, still turned away from Tyltin.

Danele Valenti leaned into Wyld's embracing arm, taking refuge from the solemn chill that had fallen. The stories were listened to, but no comment was made. Gods, so much of the Valenti history was steeped in blood and lies.

Uhtred Valenti put his head in his hands. He felt so heavy. Something was beating down on him now, making him feel as though he wanted to sleep. Without a single moment's further hesitation he reached out and grabbed a leg from a fowl, ripping it and forgetting the napkin. He was hungry. He was so hungry. He stuffed as much meat as he possibly could into his mouth, the grease lining his lips with a light sheen, expelling gastric tension thereafter with a rumble in his throat. God help him, but he could not help himself.

Julius Descartes felt strings of his control snapping with each command from the ghost of a King across the veil. With every yelling demand, Julius could feel words pushing up from his throat and trying to break past the barrier of his closed teeth. The thoughts of what he would say roared through his head. "What is the point!? Your memories are horrible, yes I will give you that, but these people will see things just as painful throughout their lives! You make us remember the things we must erase from our minds to stay sane. The night is ruined and our dreams will be tainted because you were selfish. It will be ruined because you demand that everyone feel the only emotion that you can." The impulse was pressed down and ignored while he listened to the stories. Feeling Colleta's hand on his thigh, he reached down and grabbed at her fingers with a strong grasp. Julius used her hand as a point of concentration as he continued to ignore the raging thoughts within his mind.

Colletta Bodelle listened to the depressing tales, feeling her own heart sink into her chest. Sure she'd heard them before, but they still had the power to depress her. The shift of her hand into Julius's brought her a surprizing amount of comfort. The strict attention to her plate eased as she simply squeezed back lightly, letting him know without words how nice it was that he could comfort her in Endy's absence. Ha! The Jester...he'd left her to suffer the insufferable as well. The words of his undying faithfulness echoed in the chasm of her mind. If he was so faithful, where was he? Probably off sneaking out with Osanna. Damn them both for not being here and causing her to rely upon the guard, whom she barely was acquaintanced.

Tyltin Valenti IV snarled. He was stepping onto the table, now. The plain, stern visage that he had been carrying throughout the day couldn't be kept any longer. He was stepping amongst the food without leaving a footprint in it, now, thrusting his sword at each ghost in turn until it reached the knight. When he pointed his sword at him, he did it with a bit more reverence than the others. The one-way communicae of TELL YOUR STORY seemed less screamed to the others. Tyltin had always liked knights in life. And this knight was dead, which meant that the king did not begrudge him the breath that he didn't take.

Scorn Falor slightly trembled in fear and he could not help it, knight or not he did fear this king and who could not? He swallowed and knew he would have to tell his tale or as much as he could recall. "I was one of the youngest Knights, not the first but I was one of the few youngest knights. I earned my keep early and got my sword." He said and tried to keep a calm voice. "I slew my first enemy when I was thirteen years old though I nearly lost my life even then. But then one day we were told an army of the enemy was making it's march towards the castle, I rode by the crown prince's side into the heat of the moonlit night. Upon the battlefield many were slain and I looked for the prince and saw he had fallen from his horse, an arrow to his leg. I left my horse and went to his side only to freeze when a sharp pain filled my chest and I looked to see two arrows... in my chest and through my heart. I felt my body growing cold but the prince was in danger so I went to his aid and slew those near him. two, four, then eight more arrows flew into my heart all nearly at the same time. It was then I fell to my knees and then to my back. I stare up at the starlit sky breathing my last breath. My last wish to the prince was to burn my body and the last words I heard were Damn fool, so young and you threw your life away. Your death is nothing. and then I passed on into darkness." He said calmly and looked up to him. "Those words haunt me and make me hate the living for thinking a young one giving his life is meaningless." He said and then lowered his gaze to the table. "that, is my story."

The Nameless Lady looked to Garnett, suprised at the open palm and rushed to take it, though she stopped herself midway and only hovered, one hand above and one hand below, close enough to cause a small chill, but not enough to cause the dear woman any true pain. A heartwarmed look upon her face. That woman was so very kind. She turned then, dropping her hands at the Living King's remarks and nodded her head gently to him, feeling a strange sense that he might know who she was. If only she could corner him, make him tell her. But... she was fully aware how short her time was now, and let the sad thought remain that she might never know. Her head bowed down again and she remained utterly silent, wallowing in her sadness, and shrinking away from the table a few paces listening to the sad tale of the knight, who she thought died quite bravely.

Wyldrigrenkledrysllthen guzzled another gulp of wine and shoved more of the duck down his throat, feeling the compulsion of undead eyes on him, not stopping now even as Tyltin mounted the table and walked over it. He paused only when that claymore came to rest while pointing at the knight, Sir Falor. That gruesome tale was nevertheless as blessedly brief as the first. The King tried to rack his memory; he seemed to remember much longer, more involved stories from his youth, but they could have been amplified in his mind by the intervening years. Nodding, he shared a momentary look with the Nameless Lady before nodding, offering a hint of a smile to the knight. "And a fine story it is, too, Sir Falor. Thank you for sharing it with us."

Garnett shivered at the touch to her hand, a small smile offered to the ghost before she drew her hand back to fold it in her lap. Uhtred, however, drew a puzzled gaze at his utter ravenousness..hungry, yes, but usually the Crown Prince had manners at least. Frowning slightly, she touched her hand to his arm, giving it a squeeze as the stories rumbled onward, Garnett feeling as though she could take no more heartache of these stories. The feast would be over soon..and they would be leaving, she reminded herself, forcing a deep breath and a bite of fruit.

Synaria reached out for a bit of the duck, pausing when Uhtred made that noise, and a brief flicker of disgust overtook her face. So short it was it could have been a face made from the effort it took to stretch. She snatched the meat right before the dead king's ghostly feet hit the table. A flicker of a glance cast up to him before immediately returning to the meat in her hand, which was placed onto her place and half-heartedly cut as she listened to the stories, mind reeling now on how she herself my die for her wrongs, should they ever be exposed. The meat, growing more unappealing by a moment until she abandoned it all together for her wine glass.

Genton watched the green ghost as she made her way close to the living woman who's life he sensed beating within her womb. He nearly protested at the touch when the woman's hands gently hovered over the living one's. It had been so long since he'd see a human touched by a ghost. From what he could recall from his half eaten brain, it was never a good thing. The gentle softness of the dead woman caused another feeling to rise. No. It could never be. She would never find comfort in the arms of the fat portly ghost like him. What was he thinking? His eyes flicked up at the dead King who walked through the table of food. Fat stubby fingers quickly moved a plate of cake out of the way and towards his chest. Gotta save the cake afterall.

Tyltin Valenti IV was in a rage now, and he twisted around and swept his claymore back, glaring at the king with threatening eyes. BE SILENT. BE SILENT, YOU ARE A FRAUD AND A FOOL. Could he hurt him? For the love of all things holy, it seemed very possible to the ghost. But he could hurt the ghost who dared to be touched by a mortal. His eyes hardened on her and he acted to scramble her thoughts, to send back into hibernation for that pathetic display Candles and fires began to shiver without the impetus of flame. The dead form twisted back and round and thrust his sword at the child, now. The last story to be told except his own. None of those pathetic, living creatures would ever glean anything from his story, or any other's. He twisted around and began to step off the table.

Scorn Falor bowed his head to the living king and offered a light smile back to him. "You are welcome your Magisty." He said simply and then eyed the young boy besides the princess, he knew something already then looked away. Time was running short for him and he would soon have to return to the old battleground where he died, that was his grave.

Airina blinked. "M-my story?" Even she wished to avoid the ghost's eyes. "'Tis a sad one, I must say" she looked to the entourage of ladies, who all looked away. "My mother is-- was a princess. My father, a prince naturally. From their union I was born. And most happily too" another look was cast to the ghost ladies, of which the royal one smiled at the daughter, the first sign of love yet. "Unfortunately not only did my father love my mother, but so did a knight. As I have heard, the knight believed if I was gone, he and my mother could finally be together. So, he stabbed me. Right here" she pointed to her heart. "Though it was not so, for she rejected him and ordered him hung. But the damage was done...I was...gone. That was when I was four" she looked back to her mother again, who was looking down. "But the execution never happened. He ran and ran".

Julius Descartes closed his good eye as he let pictures of forests and cold snow flow over him, quelling the fire of his fury. He was trying not to imagine their deaths as they were described to him, sure it would just enrage him and break his concentration. Air rushed in through his nostrils, circulating out through his mouth in a cycle that calmed him with it's difficulty to maintain. The muscle in his jaw ceased it's twitching as his muscles loosened and relaxed. The techniques he used when in pain worked just as well when he was infuriated, a revelation he was surprised to discover on this night. The grip of his hand had also relaxed and the thumb of his hand had begun to trace circles across Colletta's skin. He frowned and gently pulled his hand from hers to stop the relationship from proceeding past acquaintances. People were dangerous, much too dangerous to keep around.

Leon Alexander for a moment he nearly felt ill but grabbed a bottle of wine and a glass and poured himself a full glass then took a long slow sip and closed his eyes as he downed it all without losing a drop and set the glass down. He needed that, one and only one glass of wine and he was very silent and did not look upon the dead kill but he still felt as if he were to be ill and even his face paled. He hoped in the early morn he would feel better because it was only then he could start work once again in the stables.

Danele Valenti wanted to cower. She truly did. If she could have, she would have. However, when that glare was sent toward her own husband, she stiffened her spine, squared her shoulders, and tightened her hand where it still rested on Wyld's thigh. However, she was wise enough to stay silent.

The Nameless Lady felt the shivering tension, the dark dank pull of the abyss closing in, grabbing at her with it's invisible hands. Pale, watery gaze locked onto the dead king's, wide and fearful. Her mouth formed the words 'No, please' but her mind couldn't work out the sound. Fingertips reached for the table, and but she couldn't remember how to work the ghostly form. She shimmered violently, the green pulsing in great, bright waves. Mouth opened as if to scream, but again, nothing came of it. And when the candles flickered, so did she, her form bursting into nothing. And she was returned to the black, empty place, to wait.

Colletta Bodelle continued to listen quietly to the tales, gripping Julius's hand tightly in hers as a reminder that she was not alone. The blinders of her mind allowed her the graciousness to focus upon her plate. The slow circles that were traced over her weathered skin brought a small shiver of joy down her spine. With the current circumstances though, it would easily be mistaken for a shudder of terror. Her hand cast desperately into Julius's lap as he pulled from her. How could he abandon her?! It was all the shattered woman could do to keep from standing up and bolting as she was. She continued desperately rifiling in his lap until she found his hand and gripped it tightly. There was no way she was letting him go.

Garnett felt a violent shiver course through every inch of her body, her eyes on the ghost she had touched as she seemed to explode out of existance, and for an instant, her gaze snapped 'round to the terrible ghost king. The princess remembered an instant before her gaze caught his face not to meet his, teeth gritted as though she were in pain..but the true came with the story of the murdered child. Tears spilled from her eyes as she heard that childish voice explain so reasonably why she had been killed. A sob shook her, marring the silence that had held above the ghost's voices, Garnett pressing her face into Uhtred's arm to muffle the sound.

Wyldrigrenkledrysllthen felt the claws of fear raking the insides of his belly, his mind buffetted by the booming, psychic voice of his n-th greats grandfather, the Ghost King. Deep emerald eyes widened at the scream and the whipping weapon, but the King did not budge, prepared to take the icewater of a ghost's touch to the humiliation of flinching before the incorporeal. His eyes slid to the little girl, his beard twitching as he heard her tale. "Surely he's long dead, though, to trouble little girls no longer. Thank you for sharing your tale with us, little one." His grip on his wife's shoulder stiffened in support...for her or for him, he couldn't rightly tell. his gaze narrowed when his daughter-in-law sobbed, but aside from a stern glance to the Ghost King, he did not respond.

Synaria blinked at the child's story, bright blues turning to the young one, feeling her heart want to explode. Mind raced with the 'what could have been's' what if she had concieved... would the man she loved do the same? She shuddered violently and shook the thoughts away. She was sure she was safe from that kind of torment, but the thought still pulled on her heart. Eyes watered, but she said not a word, keeping her mouth occupied with her drink, placing on the cold stone mask.

Julius Descartes turned his head to look at Colletta, a look of concern coming over his features for once in his life. He let her take his hand, strengthening his grip once more to reassure her that she would be fine. An urge to lean in closer to her came over him and a primal urge below that called for him to do... what? He didn't know, but he felt it sometimes and could not deny that it was powerful. Julius had been trying so hard to ignore the entire event with some polite respect and now he was distracted with such ease. The primal urge in him tried to claw it's way out again, angrily whispering that he could have never violated that little girl because he did not know how and had never learned. Julius looked away, still frowning as he tried to decipher what his instincts were trying to tell him.

Colletta Bodelle didn't offer the guard a returned glance. The sound of Garnett's sob struck her ears maliciously. A slight cringe passed over her entire amazonian figure. She simply must to cry. If she started, she would never stop. The child's voice echoed in her ears, though she never took the eyes from her now bare plate. The reassuring touch was the only thing that allowed her to keep her stoic composure. A hard swallow brought the remainants of the food to settle in her ever souring stomach. She was beginning to grow weary. Dark circles seemed to appear beneath the woman's eyes as she shifted lightly in her seat to prevent her from falling from the chair. She'd not been up and about lately and the festivities began to take their toll upon the servant.

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End of the RP of the Feast