feast & after-party ♔ empty my heart | i've got to make room for this feeling

[wynn]

♬ Can't Take It In - Imogen Heap

WHO || Wynn, the new Squires, any and all Knights
WHAT || Squiring Ceremony Feast & Afterparty
WHERE || Knights Headquarters, the Dining Hall & Ballroom
WHEN || February 9th, 2012, 7:00PM / 9:00 PM
HOW || Prose OR Actionspam

While every dinner served in the Knights' exceptionally large Dining Hall manages to have a sense of occasion, given the sheer quantity of food necessary to serve the hundreds who take their meals there, the 'feast' Wynn's ordered for after this squiring party outdoes the norm. It's not a problem to produce so much food at the drop of the hat when mages can magically summon up entire banquets, and so the room teems over with the smells and spices of hundreds of unique dishes. Centerpieces built with peacock feathers and sweet smelling flowers dot the table at intervals. A silver cage in the very middle of the table includes several live birds, their feet and tufts each appearing to be silver as well. A banner hangs from the top of the cage, with the Knight's symbol of a black dragon on a silver field.

The food has a distinctly medieval flair to it today, which several of the older Shadowkind Knights express their boisterous appreciation for as they dive in. The first course consists of a civet of hare, a quarter of salted stag, a stuffed chicken and a loin of veal, the latter two covered with a German sauce with gilt sugar-plums and pomegranate seeds. At each end of the table is an enormous pie, surmounted with smaller pies, which form a crown. The crust of the large ones is silvered all round and gilt at the top; each contains a whole roe-deer, a gosling, three capons, six chickens, ten pigeons, and one young rabbit. Serving as seasoning or stuffing, a minced loin of veal, two pounds of fat, and twenty-six hard-boiled eggs, covered with saffron and flavoured with cloves.

A second course follows: aroe-deer, a pig, a sturgeon cooked in parsley and vinegar, and covered with powdered ginger; a kid, two goslings, twelve chickens, as many pigeons, six young rabbits, two herons, a leveret, a fat capon stuffed, four chickens covered with yolks of eggs and sprinkled with spiced powder de Duc, and even a wild boar.

Next came wafers and stars; a jelly, part white and part blue. A fourth course of cream with Duc powder, covered with fennel seeds preserved in sugar; a white cream, cheese in slices, and strawberries; and, lastly, plums stewed in rose-water.

Besides these four courses, there's a fifth, entirely composed of wines, and of preserves, which consist of fruits and various sweet pastries in the shapes of dragons.

---------------------------

Following this, assuming anyone is still capable of moving at all is the after-party: a black-tie affair in the lavish, opulent ballroom, every new Knight's chance to mingle and meet some of their new brothers in arms. Per usual, a couple hours are provided following the feast for everyone to change, do hair and makeup, and choose from the vast array of formal attire in the closets of the balcony "dressing rooms" located at the top of spiraled staircases on either side of the ballroom. A separate dressing room exists for men and women, and they include full bathrooms (with, thankfully, very modern plumbing).

The squires are usually among the last to arrive, and the ballroom is full to the brim with a fancy array of people, of all shapes, sizes and species.

Hope none of you are shy. They're all here to meet you. 

All open feast threads should be made under the FEAST heading below. Any other threads below will be for the after-party. Feel free to make your own open threads for people to come congratulate your newly pledged knight.

Comments

dex check: 15, cha check: 19

[witchwoman]

[To her credit, Myri only lets out a small yelp of pain when his Highness steps on her delicate toes. Now with the added courage of an even playing field, she gathers her wits about her and takes a half step back to adjust their stance and guides him back into form. As they move, she leans towards the nearby couple.]

Our sincerest apologies. Consider it newly knighted nerves? Otherwise, I'd have to wonder how much wine should be allowed at the next feast. [She smiles politely and turns her attention back to Arthur.] Or perhaps the Stargods are teaching you a lesson not to tease a woman about her earlier misstep?

[king]

[ He lets her lead, tight-jawed and abashed, looking up through his lashes like a scolded little boy. At that last, he grimaces, gives a short ha. ]

Perhaps they are, at that. I hope I haven't broken any toes.

[ He's still a little humiliated, but once he's not thinking about it, the movement of the dance is easier, and if he fumbles a complicated step or two, he doubts too many people will care. ]

So tell me, who are the Stargods when they're at home.

[ Or when you're at home, he supposes, but doesn't say aloud. ]

[witchwoman]

[Once he has his bearings again, Myri shifts her grip and lets him lead if he wishes. She doesn't want to embarrass the man, since so many seem so drawn to him.]

Nothing broken, I assure you. I wasn't built of glass.

[Turning her head up to look at him, Myri wonders how many people might ask her about the Stargods here. This isn't her world- she knows that, but is Kardia Hodos the only land that was blessed by their gifts?]

It's said that they emerged from the belly of a great white dragon, fully grown. If names were known, they were lost long, long ago. They are simply gods who were brought to us from the stars. They named our land and saved our people.

[king]

A dragon.

[ He murmurs it, and seems a little amused by her mentioning it — he's been hearing a lot about dragons lately. ]

That certainly sounds benevolent of them. I'm afraid I don't believe in gods, though.

[witchwoman]

[Never having seen a dragon before, Myri can't really comment further on it. She only knows the tale.]

What do you believe in, then?

[king]

Real things.

[ Arthur studies their joined hands like the answer lies there. ]

Myself. My kingdom.

[witchwoman]

[She recalls the way the crowd gasped at his name. And the title that Wynn bestowed upon him. Myri wonders if she's only of the other people who has no notion of who this man is.]

What is a kingdom but lines drawn on a map? Land so easily trades hands- I would hardly consider it ever truly owned. Is your faith also so easily traded for the right allegiance?

[king]

No.

[ He meets her eyes now, and there's no sarcasm or scolding there, but he's so serious. ]

Maps don't make kingdoms. People do. People who look to one man to delegate out how best to keep everything running smoothly, and people again to grow the crops and hew the roads and fight when the lines on the maps threaten to change the way they live their lives. It's far greater than the sum of its parts.

[ He seems to have gotten the hang of the dance: having noticed another couple trying the move, Arthur with a Dex check of 19 shifts his hands, dips Myri backwards for a heartbeat, and draws her upright again. The serious facade breaks and he smiles. ]

I believe in my kingdom.

[witchwoman]

[He certainly commands attention to his words and actions. Myrilandel is silent, studying him as he paints a picture of a better world. The only Lord she's known rules the city of Coronnan with fear and perversion as his right hand. His advisers stalk her, threaten her, and ache to see her flesh burn in the name of some false demonic cleansing. Myrilandel has never had faith in any one man to hold so much power.

And yet when Arthur proclaims his vision, she does not fear his inevitable following. This man will move mountains, should they ever stand in his way- but more likely, he would only need to politely ask them to step aside and a valley would be formed.

Her body tenses for the briefest moment as he dips her, but she relaxes just as quickly. His arms cradle her weight easily. All the while, Myri's eyes never leave his. There is much more to him that she originally believed, and that fascinates her. As she is righted, she lets out a breath that she didn't know she was holding.]

Indeed you do. [She says quietly.] I think I may now as well.

[king]

[ But if Arthur occasionally provides insight into the man he will be, the man he is growing into, he is also still filled with glimpses into the boy he was. His grin at her words is young and wholly idealistic. ]

I'm Arthur Pendragon.

[witchwoman]

[A boy perhaps, but an older man than the 19 year old witchwoman he dances with tonight. It's in those youthful smiles that she finds herself less wary of him, though.]

Myrilandel de Tanos [She returns with her own easy smile]

[king]

Myrilandel.

[ Yet another person who has doomed themselves to hearing all four syllables every time he speaks to or of them. ]

So what made you want to be a knight?

[witchwoman]

[She enjoys her full name just as much as a shortened version. If Arthur should so wish to use it, she sees no harm.]

To be truthful, I'm not so certain. Not for lack of desire to do good in the world, mind you, but I've never been a person of any notable worth. And I've certainly never been knighted.

I'm just a witchwoman. Nothing more. Perhaps Wynn made a mistake.

[king]

I don't think Wynnefalshond is the sort to make mistakes.

[ But don't tell him Arthur said that, okay? ]

But when you say witch-woman...?

[witchwoman]

I mean that I have been blessed by the Stargods in the gift of healing. [She finishes, raising her chin up, not ashamed to proclaim her gifts, but at the same time, wondering if this dance will end suddenly due to her nature.]

An ally worth keeping for any man running off to play war.

[king]

You mean that you have magic.

[ He frowns, though he doesn't seem disgusted. Disapproving, perhaps, and considering: magic makes him aware of the gaps in his memory, his unknown unknowns. Part of him thinks magic is wrong, but he has nothing further to substantiate the feeling. Still, the fact of it turns him distant, her presence in his arms far more impersonal. ]

[witchwoman]

Indeed I do.

{She's seen that look, heard that tone. It's something like distrust or perhaps fear- but whatever it is, it's never good and usually leads to her being run out of a place.

And that experience causes her to halt her steps.]

Worry not, your lordship. I can show myself off the dance floor.

[She quickly removes herself from his hold, distanced as it now is, and weaves her way through the crowd.]