Log:Twilight at Voidlight

Twilight at Voidlight

OOC Date: July 27 2022
Location: Delaya
Participants: Nora Frayus as GM, Aryn Cortess, Ulani Kalgaav, Wil Eastim, Kalkat Eastim, Ulani Kalgaav, Bors Thul, Galen Dawnstar, Corto the Drifter, Ejnar Celchu

The forests outside of Castle Frayus are lush and dense. At the peak of summer, the leaves on the trees are flat and broad, blotting out the sun during the day and the moon and stars at night. These forests yield, however, when one reaches the foot of the mountain on which the Voidlight Forge has been carved into stone. Starlight and moonlight pour down from the night sky above, blanketing the lush grass and wildflowers in a silvery light. The sound of crickets fills the air, and the wind carries a warmth and scent of mature growth and damp soil.

Wooden flooring, railings, and lamp-posts have been arranged around a masssive old-growth tree that reaches up towards the Heaves. It grows so tall in this rich soil that it seems as if it nearly accomplished its task. Lights are strung up from lamp-posts, woven in an intricate tapestry to provide additional illumination towards the dance floor and seating areas.

Above it all looms the tall peak of Mount Sennequet, its snow-covered peak, and the eerie purple light that pours from the Voidlight Forge.

[ Nora Frayus (Nora)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

The Rekindling of Voidlight is typically a rather private and solemn affair. A time for contemplation of the lives lost on Alderaan, and a reminder of House Frayus' failure to uphold its charge. The flame of Voidlight, you see, had burned for thousands of years. It was up to the Head of House to maintain its flame. To keep it burning hot, and to use its flame to build the weapons that the House built its reputation from. The Rekindling of Voidlight was Count Corwen Frayus' favorite childhood memory and, today, serves as a reminder of one of his greatest failings.

But Alderaan endures, does it not?

Corwen himself stands off to the side of the party, which began some time ago. Servants and chefs weave through nobility, friends, and guests alike with grace. They serve drinks, snacks, and individual small plates to pair with both. Larger faire is being served and carved off to the side of the dance floor, where Lady Nora Frayus is dancing with her little sister Luci (cheek-to-cheek, mind you) to a slow and lazy tune. Though the music is gentle and relaxed, there is a certain lively din that has begun to lift up throughout the night air. It is, perhaps, aided some by the celebration, but most likely more to do with the free brandy, wine, and bubbly that flows like water for those who wish it.

"Corwen, dear, quit frowning and look at your daughters," Countess Adni says as she straightens his tie. He tugs on his suit coat and gives a heavy sigh, managing a smile from behind his thick, dark beard. "When I look at them, I only see their mother."

Countess Adni smiles softly and takes his hand, leading him towards the dance floor. Sorry Ulani.

[ Ejnar Celchu (Ejnar)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Ejnar Celchu was busy hiding from his Mother and Father who were out and about schmoozing political opponents and allies alike. Indeed, dressed to the nines in his rather overly fancy military Class A dress uniform, the Lord Lieutenant of Alderaa Squadron had a plate in his hand, was about four drinks deep and currently noshing on one if not a mishmash of several different hors de vours offered at this function. It wasn't couth and he did his best to stand in the corner, his pale blue eyes awkwardly watching couples dressed opulently pass by him.

A couple of females, dressed to impress. passed by him all glancing as he stuffed his maw. He gave a smile, his mouth still stuffed with hors de vors. They giggled and moved on, he swallowed and frowned.

[ Corto (Ct)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

The shindig, as it's referred to in the common Tatooine parlance, was a social affair for people to forget their woes and ply their wiles with a drink and some song. Now, a fancy shindig was much the same thing, but a lot better dressed and a lot quieter in tone. Ain't no barnstormin' or rabble-rousin' here folks, just some haughty 'oh yes indeed would you like a scone' over glasses of wine more expensive than the average starship. With that in mind, the question is begged.

What is the Drifter doing here?

The seven-foot-five Feeorin stuck out like an extremely sore thumb on the best of days, so having him here amongst the gathering of Alderaanians far and wide had folk ogling him like the latest freak show attraction, to amuse them between bites of scone. He'd made an effort, at least. The poncho was replaced with his least-worn leather duster, you know, the one that started black but was now some shade of grey. His sharpshooter gloves were gone, as were his shotguns, which had brought about a highlight of the night when he had unsuccessfully argued with the doorman that he needed to keep them for religious reasons. Not even good old fashioned wisdom could stand up against an Alderaanian who knew what was Right and Proper and shotguns were /neither/.

Capping it off was a bolo tie that was possibly older than he was. We get it, Corto, you're old.

"Ain't want none of this fancy stuff," he rumbledrawled in the direction of one of the staff members that was dealing with the food platters, "just a cup of caf, ain't no blue milk or sweetener. Just pour it straight from the... the... that machine you got that does all the brewin' for ya."

He had been asking for this for half an hour now.

[ Galen Dawnstar (Galen)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Galen's not hiding from anybody although he's not dressed in extreme fancy pants mode but he's made an effort to at least be dressed up for the old scout his clothes are even clean! Making his way over towards the Feeorian tryin to get cafe he looks at the tall Feeorin, "No luck on a decent drink?" He sighs a bit as he looks over the options for a beverages and sighs giving up a bit, "Can I just get a water please?"

[ Bors Thul (BT)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= The Thuls were mixed among the party goers, Uypiia and Vanko dressed in dark tones with their hangars on, the various cousins, siblings, cousins of siblings, aunts and uncles intermixed like dark spots blotted with crimson. Exotic in their regalia, high collars, some flared some simple, tailored clothes and capes lined with metallic threading.

Among those on the dance floor is Bors - who has claimed Ulani (SUCK IT COUNT FRAYUS) and is putting her through her paces out there with his years of courtly training. YEARS.

Even if he was a fighter pilot for a long time. Mom and Dad made him learn to dance. A lot. A lot lot. Sweeping steps and twirls and whirls - because Uypiia wants him making the house look good. So that she can sit back and look gorgeous.

SOP

[ Wil Eastim (Wil)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Like Ejnar, Wil Eastim has gone with a military uniform for the evening. It's maybe not the nicest thing he owns but it is the easiest and safest means of dressing for a noble event. He is not accustomed to such soirees. Or shindigs, whichever the case may be. But he is here and has found himself a glass of some high quality wine, which he holds and sips from now and again as he makes the rounds. It seems he's been sent as the representative of his small house, as he's the only one here. And so he mingles, mixes, offers polite hellos and polite smiles as he walks the fringes of the dance floor. There are familiar faces, of course, but he refrains from lengthy interaction for now, giving everyone a chance to get settled.

He does pause, however, as he catches a contingent of Thuls moving about, searching the group for Bors and eventually finding him out there on the dance floor. The man can certainly dance and Wil takes a moment to...appreciate it? Maybe be a touch baffled? Though, it does make sense considering the man himself. With a smile and a shake of his head, he watches the dance floor and sips his drink, occasionally glancing about to see if maybe his sister has snuck in.

[ Aryn Cortess (AC)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Aryn Cortess stands in a gorgeous midnight blue dress with silver heels, and a stylish cape that hid her bare shoulders from view. A matching silver and gold tiara rests atop her head holding back the bright blonde hair, which she has oriented in intricate braids and a fancy style that leaves no hair out of place. Aryn is among the fortunate few not needing make up, thanks to youth, but the absence of such leaves her scar (the one over her eye) more emphasized. This, too, is Alderaanian in nature because scars were worn like medals. To possess one, or many, marked an Alderaanian who had stood up against adversity at the cost of their own safety. Courage and bravery were hallmark traits coveted by the fancy folk.

Aryn clutches a glimmering flute of wine between two gloved hands and appears to be smiling while in conversation with Ser Lars, the First Sword. Lars is a tall man, tall for a human at least, wearing ornate armor of gold and white with a large sword of similar style sheathed at his side. His cape is green, matching the colors of the Royal house with clasps at the shoulder the bear his House Sigil. He appears in good spirit, laughing as well.

Lord Ty Killesa, a younger and thinner Lord is wearing a long naval coat with a placard marking him as Captain. A fancy leather baldric is worn diagonally across his torso serving as the home of a saber scabbard of a weathered and well used blade that had likely been held by more than one generation of Killesa. His trousers bear the bloodstripes of Alderaan, and the ranks on his shoulders were forged of the Old Alderaanian remains, symbolizing that Alderaanian officers bore the weight of Alderaan on their shoulders. Elaborate cuffs on his sleeves segue to long gloves, which matched the folded cuffed boots he wore giving him a nautical style. Lord Ty was missing a hat, but the youth did not seem overly fond of wearing one. He had a distinct scar along his cheek that was still pink and healing, fresh from the liberation of his home and seat, Last Light.

[ Ulani Kalgaav (Ula)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

It's been a nice of eating and drinking and dancing. So much dancing. For a woman that is used to getting caught in a dance just moving from her living room to the kitchen and back again, there is a measure of difficulty when it comes to formal affairs. Especially when her dance partner, ever eager, gets into the swing of things. Literally.

Ulani starts out strong on the moves following step to step with Bors; spinning and twirling with a ferocity that bellows out her silver and black dress and threatens to undo the tight, elegant hairstyle held in place by an obscene amount of hairpins. But towards the middle, she inevitably falters. This well-meaning, soft-hearted Lady-to-be so prone to tripping up on her own feet.

She staggers and lurches into Bors, almost falling over fully but by the grace of him knowing her oh-so well, is caught and they spin back into rhythm again. Meant to do it. Totally. "You're relentless," she laughs breathlessly to him. Poor girl will need a break soon.

[ Ejnar Celchu (Ejnar)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Ejnar may have been valiant in the cockpit or even in battle, put on the political stage and socially, he was every bit a coward. His prowess and skill and a politician was nowhere to be found, a great disappointment to his mother yet in her own way she still loved him. Even if it was tough love. She also knew where to push him to strive in his strengths so that's why she trained him in her Martial Arts.

"There you are..." Said a female voice, sort of rasp. Ejnar turned his pale blue eyes on the body it had escaped. A blond woman, her honey blond locks done up in a bun. A Republic Uniform tugged just right at her body expressing her feminine curves. Red lipsticked lips quirking in a smirk, almost similar to that of a Corellian comrade some around here might have known. Her half brother after all. She couldn't have been for that five foot five, Ejnar towering over her.

The Lord Celchu gulped, "Oh.. hey... Lieutenant Blaze."

"Oh hey is all I get? After the fun we had back on Azzameen Station?"

"I wasn't expecting to see you so soon. How'd you get invited..."

"My brother was a Jedi. I know a few people. I worked with them."

Ejnar is silent, scratching the back of his head. "Do... you want..."

Pyretta shakes her head and grabs Ejnar's hand, dragging him to the dance floor. "Come on, you really are something."

[ Nora Frayus (Nora)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Nora Frayus and Luci Frayus continue to dance cheek-to-cheek during the slow little tune being played. At the far end of the dance floor, a grand piano sits with starlight glistening off its pristine ivory-colored surface. A young woman with a low-back dress plays slowly and deliberately. With her hair done up in a bun, the muscles of her back clearly shift as she plays, body swaying as she continues to dance those fingertips across the keys. It is a slow, almost whimsical sort of tune. A bit nostalgic, and one fitting of this affair that is equal parts celebratory and nostalgic.

"Look at Bors and Ulani," giggles Luci Frayus, prompting her older sister to glance over her shoulder and look at the pair of them. "Mmmm, yes, well. He is a fighter pilot, hmmmh? Perhaps double tempo is his preferred speed," she replies. Nora can feel the grin on the side of her face and she turns to look down at the shorter girl with pretty blonde hair. "No laughing. This is a somber affair," Nora says with a laugh of her own.

Corwen and Adni continue their slow dance off to the periphery of the floor. "It is nice to celebrate with people, is it not?" Adni asks Corwen. The man is tall. Lumbering, even. And thick to boot. But he does clean up nice, even if he can't ever seem to quite wipe a scowl off his face. "Hmmmmh," he says, and Adni just smiles. That's close enough to agreement.

The song ends, Count and Countess bow, sister and sister curtsy, and the dance floor... shifts. Little Luci bounds off, having kicked her heels off moments after arriving. Bare feet tap-tap-tap across the ground as she makes her way to Aryn Cortess. She's often shy at these gatherings, but on this land? Her home? A little more bold. She finds her manners somewhere between the dance floor and where Aryn and Ser Lars are chatting, and gives the princess a formal, pretty curtsy. "Your Grace. Ser Lars," she says, and then some manners bubble away. She rocks forward onto the tips of her toes. "I love your tiara!"

Countess Adni has moved away as well, choosing to approach the more... roughly-dressed... guests. Corto and Galen. She offers them both a smile and a nod.

"You must be Nora's friends," she says. Clairvoyant, this one. "I hope you are both having a pleasant time."

[ Nora Frayus (Nora)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Another tune begins. This is slightly more up-tempo than the last, but it still holds motifs and beats that hearken back to Old Alderaan, the ruins of which are slowly drifting across the night sky at a perfect zenith to the Voidlight Forge and its strange, otherworldly purple light. Though it's impossible to see that rubble with the naked eye, almost every Alderaanian present can tell you precisely where it is. The scar in the night sky.

"Nora," Corwen says, and offers a hand for a dance. Nora's pale blue eyes flick over her father's hand and follow it up to his own eyes. She inherited her mother's fair complexion. Blonde hair, pale skin. But Corwen and Nora have the same cold, blue eyes.

She takes his hand, and the two begin to dance. "You know I detest when you are right," he says.

Nora smiles and looks back towards the crowd that had gathered. The party was, after all, her idea.

"I know," she says, and twirls on his lead.

[ Bors Thul (BT)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Ulani is spared and so Bors takes her arm to walk with her to the edge of the dance area with the cessation of music. Slow dance. Pah. You can uptempo if you try.

Uypiia and Vanko are present when Corwen and Adni have vacated the floor, bowing heads politely, "My dear Lord Count, again we need express our gratitude for the honor of visiting at this, in the past, private affair. House Thul shall need make effort to prove this, properly, once Gravenheim has been wrought from the mountains." the Countess smiles through it all - authentic, false? Hard to tell but she's pleasant about it. Remaining so when Nora steals Corwen away.

Bors himself brings himself to where the rough sorts have gathered, Ula with a hand raised cordially, "Fair well met, friends ours to brighten doors even as you pass through them. Gads a tall one as mine eyes did espy on our wander to rescue Lord Killsea's family from imprisonment most vile!" there's a new song brewing and his ears twitch. But Lady Kalgaav requires a break, even if he's crazy and could keep going.

[ Corto (Ct)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

"Ain't never any luck, but, gotta just roll with it," Corto concluded to Galen, finally ceasing his efforts to get a half-decent cup of caf in this strange party. Not that it was strange, but the Feeorin was more given to saloon drinking and sitting quietly during bar fights. The bolo chafed, and that might not be metaphorical.

The approach of the Countess was unexpected but not entirely ill-tidings. The Drifter turned, and raised that ever-present wide-brimmed hat off his head, revealing the tentacles that stood in for hair on the possibly-amphibian originating alien. No one really knew where Feeorins came from. "Pleasure t'make your acquaintance, ma'am." Every lady was ma'am. Countess? Ma'am. Street cleaner? Ma'am. Sith Empress? Ma'am. Nora? Walking Billboard for Art Supplies. There were exceptions. "Ain't sure this shindig is tailored to us rough folk, but a good time nonetheless. Yer feller," he must be referring to the Frayus Patriarch, "doin' alright after the thing with the tree?" And of hallucinations most rude, but that's a story for another day.

[ Aryn Cortess (AC)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

"My Mother once told me when a Lady kicks her heels off, that is the start of the true celebration," Lars intones at the arrival of little Lady Luci. He offers his hand to take hers, bowing politely. The effort is painful for the tall Knight, but any complaint he might have voiced is hidden by the music, or the soft tick-tick-tick of tightening leather from the straps on his armor; the tension loosens when he is at full height once more. "You look.."

"..absolutely singular," finishes Aryn, who cut over the First Sword's voice with a more calculated response. Aryn's smile is sly, knowing, and familiar as she reaches out with one hand to the rocking Lady Luci to take her hand and squeeze. "I trust you have another dance in you; Ser Lars loves to dance." Aryn shares a look with the Knight, who doesn't miss a beat. "Tis true," he comments, wearing a crooked grin. "A hundred ladies would duel for the honor," Aryn adds, grinning more.

[ Ulani Kalgaav (Ula)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Just like in the air, Ulani is here to keep things at a slower, more reasonable pace. Except for those times that the A-Wing gets antsy and speeds forwards, leaving the X-wing to bring up the six. Lead from the floor before she breaks too much of an unsightly sweat, Ulani steals for herself a moment's breath and a flute of chilled dessert wine. "Fair met, indeed." She at least doesn't sound winded in by all accounts appears quite put together. Just a song to stand out. That's all she needs. One song.

"Is that Mister Corto?" Who the hell else would it be? Look at him! "And Lord Ty, as well. I've not seen him since Last Light. I've been meaning to send word to the Killesa. Oh!" She is still looking around and spies something interesting, indeed. "Who is that dancing with Lord Ejnar?"

[ Galen Dawnstar (Galen)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Galen nods a bit as he gets his water and turns to watch the approach of the Countess Adni offering her a bow of his head, "Sorry I'm not well versed on the social queues for a party of this standing. However it does appear to be lovely and fancy!" He looks around for said Nora and nods some, "I suppose friends would work. Comrades for sure. I'm a bit new to the group however I'm lookin forward to getting to know them all much better."

[ Nora Frayus (Nora)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Luci Frayus gives a sheepish smile to Ser Lars as he points out her bare feet. She lifts one up from the floor, as if to hide it into the skirt of her dress. She does attempt to interrupt his bow, knowing some of the gravity of Ser Lars' recent injuries, but is too quiet and too slow. When he rises and Princess Cortess finishes his sentence, she just offers a polite smile and a nod. "Thank you, Your Grace. Nora picked it. She is much better with clothes than me," admits Luci.

Luci takes Aryn's hand when offered, her eyes lighting up at the mention of another dance. Her head swings, as if on a swivel, back towards Ser Lars when he seems to agree. And now it's Luci Frayus' turn to be a little charming.

"I should like to see them try. Father says I have been taking fencing lessons since the day I could learn to walk," she says. She takes Ser Lars' hand and starts to drag the poor man (slowly, of course) towards the dance floor.

[ Bors Thul (BT)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

"Oh, the ahh... agent from Azameen station." Bors offers in explanation to Ula as he closes the distance and now adds to Corto's distractions, and Galens as it were.

"Hullo to you dear lads." craning his neck to look up up at the feoorin, "My I thought it was just the battlefield want granted thee the length of trees, but you -do- disrupt the clouds, don't thee?" adjusting his monocle and swinging his gaze to Dawnstar begore he sweeps one arm out and moves into a shallow bow,

"Bors, Lord of Thul - Champion to Uypiia, Countess of The Most Ancient and Noble House. An utmost to have chance to acquaint absent the fires of plasma blasts, blood, screaming and other general disarray of those seaward encounters ere I at least first saw thee, noble sir." the very last for Corto before he motions to Ula,

"I present Ulani, Late of Kalgaav and affianced to join the Noble House of Thul. Pilot, roboticist and horticulturalist as well!"

[ Nora Frayus (Nora)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Countess Adni is a creature of poise, dignity, and grace. 'Ma'am' does not phase her, nor does Corto's own admission that the party is not quite to her liking. She simply laughs and covers her lips with a gloved hand. "Well, you know. I am not entirely certain that this 'shindig' is tailored to anyone," she says, a nod to Galen Dawnstar as well. At the mention of the business of the tree, Adni glances over her shoulder to regard the old growth tree whose blood-red leaves spread out like fans around them. She pauses, and then nods. "Disturbing business, that. I am thankful you were all able to rid us of it. House Frayus will forever be in your debt. "It was a pleasure to meet your acquaintances. If you'll excuse me, I need to rescue Mr. Eastim she says. A bow is given to the pair of them, and Countess Frayus takes her leave.

"Sir Eastim," Adni says to the man in military garb. He's given a slight bow as well, despite the Countess herself holding slightly higher station. "I hope you are having a pleasant evening so far," she says, with a glance over her shoulder to the dance floor. "I do not suppose you would care to dance?"

[ Ejnar Celchu (Ejnar)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

It's an odd sight, seeing a lady lead a man onto the dance floor. Ejnar is still a bit surprised as they get there, "But I don't..."

"It doesn't matter." Pyretta says, "Just follow my lead." And so the Lady Cometburn starts to lead the taller Lord Celchu in the faster paced dance. She winces a few times as the ace pilot steps on her polished shoes now and again, scuffing them slightly.

"Ach! I'm sorry, I told you." He exclaims.

"It's alright, really... you're doing okay." Pyretta sugar coated it a bit but he wasn't as bad as some other's she danced with.

There is a long pause as they move into a more symbiotic dance, Ejnar finally getting a slight hang of the pattern. "Who was your brother?" He finally breaches the silence with a question.

"Elrych, Elrych Cometburn." Pyretta says with a wistful smile.

There's a bit of recognition in Ejnar's pale blue eyes before he blinks himself back into the moment. "What happened to him?"

Pyretta frowns, looking down for a moment before looking back to Ejnar with a bit of vulnerability. "I'm not sure, I've been trying to look for him but... I can only say for some reason he left the Order and well..."

Ejnar knew that look she gave next, the sadness in her eyes. "It's okay... you don't have to go on. Let's just dance huh?"

Pyretta nodded in affirmation and that's exactly what they did.

[ Nora Frayus (Nora)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Uypiia is given a nod from Corwen, though diplomacy and... charm... has never been the man's strong suit. "I... look forward to the opportunity to see it finished," he says, shortly after pulling his daughter in for the dance. The two move in a practiced rhythm, almost anticipating one another's steps. Curiously, however, it is difficult to see which of the pair is leading. It seems to shift, with one moving for the offensive while the other steps a bit more defensively. Following her twirl, it's Nora who pulls herself back and then around, the maneuver earning her father a flash of pearly white grin.

"Mmmmm, father, she is extending her gratitude and an invitation, not inviting you to a funeral," Nora says, apparently having inherited her grace from her mother. The attitude? Tough to say. "We would be honored to join you when it is finished."

And the father and daughter twist away, moving to the rhythm of the slow-waltz at a practiced pace. Corwen gives his daughter another twirl, and this time, it's Count Frayus that pulls her back around. It's Count Frayus that flashes a small, brief grin.

"Have you prepared your speech?" Nora wonders, causing the grin to vanish and eliciting a soft groan from Corwen. Nora stops her motions and reaches up to adjust the neck of his shirt, and then the tie around his neck.

"Corwen Frayus, mountain of a man, laid low by the most terrifying thing of all... public speaking," Nora says, biting back a smile.

"Do not start, Nora."

[ Kalkat Eastim (Kitkat)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Kalkat Eastim is a late addition to the gathering. She arrives in a light blue wrap dress reaching her ankles, cap sleeves at the shoulders and silvery bracelets hanging from her wrists. Her dark hair is up in an intricate twist, something like a double chignon.

"Wil, Wil," she mutters, rounding a table supported with what appears to be a wine barrel. She pluck up a drink, probably water, off a serving tray and continues on while knocking it back with dogged determination best left to a habitual patron in a pub. Her eyes seek her brother, scanning the milling nobility with something akin to distaste.

[ Aryn Cortess (AC)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

"Have fun, my Lady.." Aryn calls after Lady Luci and Ser Lars. Lars moves surprisingly well when dragged out to the floor, and transitions into a perfect pose when their dance begins. He takes hold of Lady Luci and begins to lead her through the motions, looking poised and natural, grinning even as she was taken through a small spin. "Fencing, you say? I learned fencing when I was young. My father was a great swordsman, among the finest. He said no swordsman is worth their salt unless they understand finesse, timing, and balance. Not many have the patience to learn the old art, so it delights me to hear of your training.." The First Sword knowing a thing or two about sword fighting? Noo.

Aryn remains off to one side, one arm crossing her torso as the other holds her flute of wine to one side in a dainty grasp. Watching Lars and Luci dance reddens her cheeks a bit, and she smiles. Lord Ty arrives by Aryn's side, his hands tucking behind his back nervously. "..good--Ahem--/Good/ evening.. your Grace?"

Aryn turns slightly to regard the unfamiliar voice to find Lord Ty there beside her. "Captain Killesa; Ser Ban speaks highly of you. He said your navigation of the stormy bay during the battle of the Last Light was unparalleled. I am told you earned your Captaincy from the battle?"

"Yes ma'am. The Green Knight is kind to say such. It was all .." Lord Ty glances off to one side, staring down a moment. Aryn rests a pale hand on his shoulder. "..well fought," Aryn says. "Count Killesa must be pleased?"

"Yes ma'am, very. I am told that I will join the campaign and take on responsibilities in the fleet patrols." Ty adds.

"A life of service is an adventurous one. Are you eager to return to the sea?" Aryn asks.

"No, ma'am. The sea I know and understand. I have trained my entire life upon the waters, in the storms. However, /this/.." He motions around them to the party. "Being a part of something large, you know? It is different. They say the Houses have not united since the cataclysm. When Last Light was liberated and returned to my family, I felt hope. I saw that this notion.. " He gestures politely with one hand, and Aryn nods. "..was not so far out of reach."

[ Ulani Kalgaav (Ula)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

"Azameen station?" Ulani watches the pair of Ejnar and Pyretta dance together; the answer to her question generating only more questions. Ah, but it would be rude to talk about someone who already stands in the same -- if quite large -- room. So for now her curiousities will have to go to the back burner as introductions are in order. Bors pulls her attention to an unfamiliar man and Ulani extends her hand out towards Galen: palm down, fingers relaxed. "A pleasure to meet you, sir." Because when in doubt, call them sir. "Forgive me. I would offer you a dance, but I am still stealing some respite for myself."

The flute of wine is sipped, cooling her core wear she needs it most. Though she's not quite at remove-the-high-heels part of the evening. Oh no no. That will be at least another dance or three before she hits that limit. "It's a wonderful turn out, isn't it? Glorious to share so much celebration and tradition even amongst the trials of war both here and abroad." She sets her glass onto the empty tray of a passing servant and hooks her arm with Bors'; glancing over towards Nora and her father with a curious tilt of her head.

[ Wil Eastim (Wil)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Wil only catches sight of the countess approaching him when she's nearly upon him. Though that's far too predatory a turn of phrase to describe her elegant and welcoming approach. As the woman stands before him and bows, the young man bows more deeply, "Good evening, Countess Adni. Yes, I'm having a lovely time, thank you. I am appreciative of the invite." when she asks him to dance, he looks to the dance floor and then back to the countess with a nod. "Of course, yes. Just a moment." he glances about for a place to set down his drink and finds it in a moment before offering the countess his elbow so that he might escort her the short distance to the dance floor.

His bearing is upright. Military. No surprise, considering the fancy uniform. "I hope you're not expecting something akin to Lord Thul's acrobatic enthusiasm, Countess. But I think I can make a good account of myself." he hopes with a warmer, more relaxed sort of smile. Only right before the dance begins does he notice his sister over there, giving her a quick wave before focusing his attention on the Countess Frayus.

[ Corto (Ct)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

"Ma'am," was the word of departure and that left Corto and Galen once more alone at the drinks table, the Feeorin despairingly caf-free. "Gotta do the needfuls," was his quiet acknowledgement towards the shorter man (not that that was hard).

The only things on offer now were waters and wine. Water itself was a hot commodity in the Drifter's parts, so he took a glass, sipped it, and winced at the sheer purity of it. "Y'know, I heard a lot o' stories, but I ain't heard yours. Dawnstar, huh? Ain't know if it rings a bell up here," he tapped the side of his head, "but I reckon it oughta."

[ Corto (Ct)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

"Ma'am," was the word of departure and that left Corto and Galen once more alone at the drinks table, the Feeorin despairingly caf-free. "Gotta do the needfuls," was his quiet acknowledgement towards the shorter man (not that that was hard) as he beheld the approach of further Alderaanian nobility. Something familiar about these two, though there was a solid argument that all humans looked the same when your view was obscured by the stratosphere. "Corto," he introduced himself, bereft of title and pace. "Y'know I can barely understand a word you're sayin'. You have a hard time talkin' to the common folk?"

[ Nora Frayus (Nora)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Lady Luci Frayus is far from an experienced dancer, though it's likely owing to age more than anything else. She's a handful of years younger than her older sister, but like Nora, she's tall for her age. It makes the height disparity between her and Ser Lars significantly less awkward. "They say you are the best, Ser Lars. But I think I am better," Luci says with a cheeky little laugh. And, when she spins, that deft footwork is on display. Those lines that they trace do not come natural, but those steps? As natural as breathing. She twirls back in with a happy giggle that pierces through the slow, waltzing tune.

Countess Adni takes Wil's hand as they move to the dance floor and joins the song towards the tail end. When Kalkat's eyes scan the crowd for her brother, they just might find Countess Frayus' own peering back at them. The young woman may have a sour taste in her mouth for the nobility milling about, but she's met with a warm smile and a nod of acknowledgement.

"Please, Lord Eastim. I am an old woman," she says. She is not an old woman. "If I tried to keep up like Miss Kalgaav, I am afraid I might need to retire to bed early," she says. A glance is given to that military uniform that's followed with a smile of approval. "Alderaa Squadron? It will be good to know that you are in the skies over Delaya and New Alderaan. A strong military is peace of mind, mmmh? I am sincerely grateful for you and your family's service."

[ Kalkat Eastim (Kitkat)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

The black-haired teenager stops short, the hem of her dress grazing the toes of her scuffed but fancy heels, when she espies Wilcam getting pulled out onto the dance floor by an unfamiliar noble with gloved hands. Probably some dilettante with more money than sense. Her mouth twists into a 'yuck' face, but she conceals it by dropping her eyes to her drink instead. Waving her brother off with a dismissive hand motion, Kalkat resolves to find him later when he isn't busy doing nobility's worst-chore-ever.

Retreating from the dance floor, the younger Eastim moves toward one of those barrel-tables and sets her flute of clear liquid - water, seltzer? - down on the table before her. Folding her forearms on the surface, she leans her weight forward and watches the scene unfold like one waiting for a shuttle. Kalkat smothers a yawn.

[ Galen Dawnstar (Galen)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Galen looks at Ulani's hand palm down and cocks his head off to the side before he reaches over to give it a shake, "A pleasure to meet you ma'am." Yeah he's another ma'am and sir kinda guy. Corto and him might get along great down the road, "I'm Galen Dawnstar." He looks around at all the nobility and gallantry, "And before leavin the CDF back home was a career NCO this is completely outta my wheel house. So please forgive any social transgressions I may make."

[ Wil Eastim (Wil)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

"Oh, don't say that Countess." he doesn't dispute Adni calling herself an old woman, but Wil does pshaw the whole notion entirely. Wil's dancing style could be described as formal. Maybe a bit rigid. He probably learned from some old family member, like a grandparent. He's not out there busting the moves those hip young kids are doing wherever it is they do it. Oh no! Nice and formal and safe for Wilcam Eastim, thank you.

"Yes, my lady. Just recently joined. Lord Thul plucked me from the ranks of the regular military and I'm grateful for it. I'm looking forward to getting out there and doing my part. My cousin, Cian, has joined the unit as well. I may," he pauses slightly to glance over toward where Kalkat was, finding her gone. Is it a coincidence he turns in an elegant circle with the countess? No, he wants to find Katt. There she is, "excuse me. I may attempt to convince my sister to join. She's studying medicine. It seems unlikely, but I like to urge my family to do their part."

[ Bors Thul (BT)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

"Ah be it that so many have to gain formal learning of the old speeches, but that is a burden to bear for mine own self. That your ears may not catch the meaning I speak. Unfortunate, but good sir I was noting it was pleasant to see thee again outside of battle as was had at Killsea's home and surroundings."

One of Bors's hands comes out to give a friendly slap to Corto's arm, like old mates meeting up after long separation by time and circumstances. "You may need keep your shorter friend to be reminded to relax." eyes flicking to Galen now and the Lord Thul's smile goes up to full wattage. Get out your sunblock,

"But ere thee be given so much as the mildest cuff of reminder!" both hands go out to grab Galen's shoulders and give a friendly shake, "Relax, sirrah. Be thee not clenched for your surroundings - lest thee have stashed away a hunk of anthracite thee seek to create the allotrope of carbon we call Diamond, eh?"

Did he just suggest Galen looks wound so tight if you put coal up his ass he'd make diamonds?

[ Aryn Cortess (AC)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Ser Lars' laugh is natural and charming. "I am certain you are," better than him. "We all battle the same enemy eventually, and it is undefeated." He says in a tone of wisdom, stepping easily, and carefully, to avoid Lady Luci's little toesies. "Time. It is never with us." He brings Lady Luci back, segueing nicely into another bit of dancing. "That is why we face youth but once, so in our twilight years we might reflect and ponder what might have been. In my own, I thought as you do; and proved it. One day, you will do the same, I imagine."

"This notion is within our grasp, but it is not something one family might achieve alone, Lord Ty. We must all want it for it to work. Alderaan's history is a deep river of blood, and it is filled with all those foolish, or brave, enough to come forward with an idea of unity. We play a dangerous game, Captain."

"Yes," Ty responds, turning his gaze to the crowd, "..and Lana plays it well. I do not envy you, Your Grace. The idea of Alderaan absent that witch is a pleasing thought. Though, they say you are a witch, too. How are we to measure the trade of one, for another?"

Aryn sips her wine and smiles. "An apt question, my Lord. That is what you say when you do not have an answer." Ty chuckles.

[ Nora Frayus (Nora)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

The song winds to a close, and Nora gives a formal curtsy to her father, who bows in return. "It is always a pleasure to spar with you, Gingerbell," Corwen says, which tugs out a groan from his eldest daughter. "I hate it when you call me that," she responds. "Of course you do," Corwen replies. Having managed to obtain the last word in this particular joust, Corwen's mustered enough courage to move up towards a wooden podium that has been laid out beneath a cluster of those lights that dangle above. The music quiets to silence, until there is nothing to hear but the sound of Count Frayus and the wind that shakes the thick, broad leaves of the old growth tree.

"Friends, companions, and allies of House Frayus," Corwen says, pausing deliberately while regarding Princess Cortess while delivering the term 'allies'. Corwen's voice is rough. Gravelly, but it carries. It carries above the sound of wind, and the yawning of the mountain. It carries over murmured conversation, and giggled remarks. "It is my distinct pleasure to share with you our family's century's long tradition of Rekindling Voidlight with all of you."

[ Ejnar Celchu (Ejnar)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

As the dance slows Pyretta hands off the lead to Ejnar yet somehow he manages to bump into other couples around them. He blushes, Pyretta laughs. Eventually they pair make their way to the sidelines where they can no longer be a menace. A waiter comes by with drinks for them which they take and sip from as they watch the dancers who could actually perform. "I met him once... your brother. I was in Logistics towards the end of my stint with the Republic Military. He taught me this nuts maneuver..."

Pyretta laughs, "Sounds like him."

"Anyways... if you need help trying to find him. You have me to help if you wish."

Pyretta looked to him for a long moment, searching his features but there was nothing but honesty coming from the Alderaanian Lord. She smiles softly, "You're something else Ejnar Clechu."

They both look back to the crowd and down their glasses.

Off in the distance Winter and Tycho Celchu are spying on their son from a far. "Well isn't she fetching." Tycho says to winter.

"I don't know about her, she's a little off..." Winter responds.

"Well... so isn't our son.

Winter can only purse her lips in contemplation. They heads of House Celchu then turn towards Corwen as he starts his speech.

[ Kalkat Eastim (Kitkat)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Kalkat drums her fingers against the barrel-table, trying to blend in as another listless noblewoman with nothing better to do than attend these sorts of galas; she manages to merely appear paranoid about failing to do so, in truth. There is something restless and ragtag about the way her eyes skirt those gathered, ever-moving but never lingering too long.

Tipping back her wine flute a little too high, a little too far, Kalkat smacks the empty drink down on the high top table before her and swipes the back of her hand across her mouth. All those private etiquette tutors really put the effort in with this one. Mayhap they were public etiquette tutors instead.

When Corwen begins speaking, Kalkat perks up and looks in his direction. She notices Wil approaching out of the corner of her eye; she turns to blink at him in confusion - wasn't he dancing with that matron? Their families prospects weren't the best, but she didn't expect that courting older noblewomen for credits was part of his modus operandi. As he nears, Kalkat shakes her head. "Will, we'll pick up extra routes. You don't need to debase yourself." Her eyes are big and limpid.

[ Corto (Ct)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

"If you need help figurin' him out, I gotcha," leaned in the Drifter conspiratorially towards Galen, while still trying to piece together the trainwreck of nobility that was every word from Bors Thul's mouth. "He reckons it's good for us to see him," ventured the old Feeorin, completely missing the meaning of 'thee', "and he thinks you need to... invest in a diamond mine." The sharp nod that followed was one of absolute certainty that he'd deciphered this whole noblesse oblige. If that's what it's called.

[ Nora Frayus (Nora)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

"For thousands of years, the embers that burned within House Frayus' Voidlight Forge did so without yielding, and every year, we would celebrate during the Rekindling. It was my duty -- my charge -- to ensure that fire remained burning, and yet I watched from an escape shuttle as our home was destroyed. For thousands of years, House Frayus built -weapons of war- for its fellow Alderaanians. Storied steel that cut our teeth and our enemies. With steel in our hands, we stood in the face of tyrants and we -won-," he says.

He pauses, and takes a moment to look up towards Mount Sennequet behind him. At the mountain's heart sits The Voidlight Forge. A towering, imposing, oppressive structure that billows smoke and emits from its core a strange, purple glow. Dozens of workers begin up the path and start to file into the forge. The Rekindling has begun.

"Today is a special day, you see. In our night sky, and for House Frayus," he says. He turns his head to look up, and lifts his finger towards the stars and planets above. "For decades, when I looked up at this night sky on this very day, I saw the scar. The hole left by the Empire, and the wound that never healed. Today?" He pauses again.

"Today, I see a planet. A gift -- a new home and a new hope for our people -- from Princess Aryn Cortess," he says. "That is why today, on House Frayus' most -sacred- day... I am going to make a promise."

[ Ulani Kalgaav (Ula)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Ulani, having grown up wealthy and sheltered and now so used to mingling with the nobility of Alderaan and their allies, is genuinely surprised when her hand is taken and... shook. It takes a moment for her to realize what has happened and then the young, crimson-haired woman breaks into musical laughter. "Truly a pleasure indeed, Mister Galen. Mister Corto." Those two on once side and Bors on the other is like looking at the opposite spectrums of the galaxy itself. And she does find pleasure in both. "High Galactic can be a bit of a test to the ears at first," she concedes to Galen. "But quickly you learn the cadence and patterns. When Lord Bors and I first met---"

The men are spared a story from Ulani when the Count raises his voice to speak. Out of deferance, she goes quiet to give Corwyn her full, respectful attention. Lest she forget why they are all gathered here today.

The further he goes in, the more intrigued she becomes. Especially at the mention of a promise.

[ Galen Dawnstar (Galen)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Galen taps his fingers on his glass as he listens to Bors then listens to the totally accurate and valid translation from Corto, "You know that's not a bad idea to invest in a diamond mine. Or well any crystal and precious mineral." He turns towards Bors, "Do you have any recommendations on which ones to invest in?"

[ Aryn Cortess (AC)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Aryn and Ty grow quiet while Count Frayus delivers his speech. Aryn feels the gaze of many people shift to her as the Count names her specifically, yet her gaze only lifts to look at the distant green planet of New Alderaan, the new sister world of Delaya. The emerald jewel shines bright in the sky, taking the place of Old Alderaan. Its planetary ring now encompasses the grave yard of the old world, glittering in the sky, even from the ground. Aryn smiles at the sight of her home and brings her gaze back down. Ty continues to look up at New Alderaan, intoxicated by the sight. The forge being rekindled felt like hope was, too.

Ser Lars and Lady Luci come to a slow stop and the First Sword leads her to one side, holding her hand until she was safely away from the dance floor. He released her hand and turned his attention to the crowd, looking over those gathered with a weathered eye, his hand resting atop the end of his sword's pommel.

[ Bors Thul (BT)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= "Oh to be prospecting in such qualities one might seek thee first a world less inhabitable than most and quiet of tectonic ability - where there had been such in turmoil but time had quieted some time ago." Bors begins, only to silence himself and turn to Corwen's address, hands folding behind his back and his posture turning to courtly ramrod.

Gaze to Aryn and then the sky in turn, the noble's expression tightens some. That rock and tumble gathering towards New Alderaan having been where he spent his first six months of life before fortune carried he and immediate family away days before the Tragedy.

His ever running gob remains quiet, lips pursing for a bare moment.

[ Ejnar Celchu (Ejnar)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

While the speech continues, Ejnar as Pyretta pay attention. She hooks her arms around the closets of Ejnar's. He glances down surprised but accepts her closeness. He looks towards Count Frayus, listening carefully.

[ Wil Eastim (Wil)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

When his dance with the countess is complete and polite compliments offered, Wil slips away to go toward his sister, approaching with a smile. He is otherwise silent as he comes to stand beside her, turning his attention like everyone else toward the Count Frayus and is speech. Promise? The anticipation is building! Once he's standing beside Kalkatt, he glances down at her drink and ponders taking it. In the end, he doesn't. Instead he murmurs a low, "Hey." the greeting muted as most of the soiree goes fairly quiet.

[ Nora Frayus (Nora)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Nora Frayus watches from the crowd with a curious expression. If anyone is looking to the Lady for any sort of guidance or clue as to this promise, they will find no purchase in her. She looks as stunned as anyone. Countess Adni, having gracefully bowed away from a dance with Wil Eastim, is free to slip up behind her and wrap an arm around her waist. "Did you know about this?" comes the natural question from her eldest. Adni just smiles knowingly, and says absolutely nothing at all.

Luci Frayus has joined Nora and her mother as well, Countess Adni slips an arm around the younger girl's shoulder as well. "Look at your father," she murmurs, her attention rapt.

Corwen Frayus straightens his spine, and turns to look towards Princess Aryn Cortess. He does not formally bow, nor make any grand, diplomatic gesture. He simply works his jaw, grinding bone against bone, and speaks. "House Frayus recognizes Aryn Cortess as the One True Heir to the throne of Alderaan," he says, to a chorus of gasps from some of House Frayus' most notable allies that have, up until this moment, enjoyed the privilege of neutrality in the ongoing civil war. "And she will have the full weight of our support, and the might of our army. Until every blade we make and every bone we have is broken. We will drive this false harpy from her throne, so that our people may know peace. So that my daughters may know peace."

Corwen pauses again, and turns his eyes away from Princess Cortess and back to the three women looking up at him from the crowd. He opens his mouth, words caught in his throat. He pulls a breath in and when he exhales, he musters the courage to speak.

"And to you three, I make a promise to do be--"

KRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRASH

A sudden streak of green, the same color as the weapon that shattered Alderaan, streaks across the night sky. Atop Corwen Frayus' head, it drives into the heart of the Voidlight Forge. The sound of screams within are abruptly silenced from an immediate, percussive report. An explosion from within. Green mixes with purple and the entire mountain shudders. Stone cracks as the walls of the forge collapse in on itself, the eruption within reflecting in Corwen's pale blue eyes.

Up above, the source of that canon fire appears through thick clouds, and from its hull stream hundreds of shuttles that erupt towards the ground. Some tip on their axis, and take a direct intercept course for the party.

A shriek pierces the shocked silence and snaps Corwen from his fugue.

House Frayus is under attack.

[ Ulani Kalgaav (Ula)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

One moment she is listening to a loving, heart-lifting speech and still riding the high of a lovely night complete with socializing, good company, and dancing to her heart's content. It's a wonderful night out and a thousand-year-old tradition carries over. Alderaan endures.

Or does it?

The sky alights green and Ulani has only enough time to make note of the change when the angry bolt rips through the clouds and screams towards the planet's surface. She only gets to draw in a breath of shock before impact destroys the forge in a burst of immense energy. The aftershocks of which fan out from the epicenter and fan out in all directions.

She, like everyone else, is hit by the force and topples; blood already rushing as her body is preparing for fight-or-flight before her brain can comprehend what just happened.

[ Kalkat Eastim (Kitkat)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Kalkat turns her regard to Mount Sennequet and presumably The Voidlight Forge within. From there she watches the line of laborers moving up into the forge to feed it. As Corwen points up, she too lifts back her chin, eyes to the skies. Distracted, she stares, the stars and galaxies seeming to pinwheel around her if she looks too far above her head. Dizzy, Kalkat drops her regard to Wil, using him as an anchor to keep herself grounded on the mortal plane.

The world spins, turns, and Kalkat places one hand on the edge of the table next to her for balance. The vertigo lapses, and she finds she can focus once more. "I need to eat," she mutters to herself, slightly embarrassed. To Wil, she nods, standing next to him in that comfortable way of family members. "Hey, Wil."

And then all hell breaks loose.

This time, Kalkat isn't surprised or shocked. She isn't even panicking.

In fact, as the shuttles roll out and dive for the party, she looks resigned to a deep exasperation. "For the last fracking time," she curses, turning a narrow-eyed look at the mountain and then the source of the shriek. Grabbing her glass, she edges away from her brother, a little behind him - she's no fighter.

"Why won't the Mandalorians leave me be, Wil?" The question is small and pained.

[ Ejnar Celchu (Ejnar)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

A moment before the green blast streaks through to hit the forge, Pyretta's eyes go wide as if she had felt it coming just before it happened. "Ejnar!" She shouts, pulling at his arm away from the incoming blast.

Ejnar notices the green hue as he's being tugged away, turning his body in the direction of Pyretta so the smaller being is protected by his body. Then the blast hit and everything went to hell. He looked up to notice the craft coming in, his hair waving in the wind caused by the aftermath of the initial salvo. His lips pursed together, teeth clenched, and a rather dangerous look in his eyes.

[ Aryn Cortess (AC)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Aryn has a moment of clairvoyance, turning away from the honor Count Frayus is paying her toward a source of alarm that tugs at a sense not everyone has. The blast follows and her ears are left ringing and bleeding, instinctively, she ducked. Lord Ty caught completely off guard by this has fallen over, while Ser Lars draws his sword in one smooth motion. "To arms!" He calls out, not even considering leaving the Frayus allies to fight on their own.

Aryn reaches down to unlatch her heels, dropping her shoes to the ground and stepping lightly forward, barefoot. The party just begun.

Ser Lars arrives by Aryn's side and hands her a curved hilt. The glowing purple activation button is covered by her thumb before it's pressed and a sapphire blade emerges with a snap-HISS. "Count Frayus.. if we are to defend your family, we must know where to go. Lead the charge, my Lord." Aryn calls out, shaking her head to rid of the ringing in her ears, but the proximity left her bleeding from them.

[ Wil Eastim (Wil)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

The sound of the beam ripping across the sky has Wil squinting and then immediately moving to grab Kat but she's already moved behind him. Convenient. He braces a bit and dips his head down, expecting some rush of air and debris from the aftershock of the sudden blast. "I don't think this is Mandalorians, Kat." when he's done squinting, he lifts his gaze toward the forge and only then sees the shuttles moving toward the party. Wil frowns. This is not unusual. "You should run to the house. Maybe. I think. I need to find a weapon. Stay close to me for now, Kat. Don't run off. Please."

[ Corto (Ct)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

They say in moments of great stress and turmoil, your first thoughts go out to your loved ones. It's as instinctual as it is insidious, and it's perhaps why the Drifter's booming cry of, "SHOTGUNS!" cut through the din as it did. Two giant dinner-plate hands raised and the still wind ripped through his palms, grasping his treasured fraternal twins and wrenching them from the cloakroom. The Orbak's Leg and the sawn-off single barrel were snatched out of the sky as though Corto had caught a couple of bugs and tucked away in the no-longer-too-light holsters.

Religious reasons. Pah. He could have gotten them back at any time!

"Let's get the civilians to safety!" ordered the huge Feeorin, starting to point towards areas of egress. "Warriors! We stand here so others might not fall!" Now he was starting to sound like the knight of eld he once claimed to be. "So stand we must!"

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-