NationStates Jolt Archive

Rashkta looked upon the ledges, her face staring down as her hair softly flowed as a white stream as she watched him, her fingers upon the metal piece, her eyes gazing towards his bare head, as the man kept walking, her form upon the stone ledge. Rain was pattering softly upon the town, blanketing the city of Rephalim in a soft, small dense of water and fog, the dark nights amidst a glorious spray of lights and signs. As Rashkta sat there, she awaited for her man to emerge, as he soon showed his face through the large oak doors, a large black umbrella emerging as he walked down the street, the lightning scattering as a heavy downpour came down. Rashkta sighed. “I hate this weather.” She detested with disgust, before locking him in her scope, the smooth black rifle camouflaged amongst the night, pressing the trigger as the man quickly fell onto the ground. Within that moment, the nearby Jenrakians ignored the death of that stranger, walking by in fear – it was tantalising, it was absurd, but it was normal in the Azhujurius. Government assassinations were typical, the people understanding that to succeed you must place your safety above all else against them, and in this, Rashkta fired her bullet into a blood soaked corpse.

From the stronghold of Aulocos, the soft butchered scenes and the torturous bloody rooms, he sat as he watched the recent assassination through the eyes of machines, nodding as he chuckled, a gloomy, shadowy figure sitting behind him on his cot of a bed, his legs crossed, his arms thin and his fingers latched around a pair of rusty hooks. “She’s never going to get married.” The shadowy figure said, as Aulocos chuckled.

“There is still Egos.” Aulocos implied. “Egos is there for her, Gelectriax, and I distinctly remember her – infatuation – for you earlier during the Vizith.”

“Correction, it was loyalty to me, and Egos is the one with the infatuation for her.” Gelectriax slyly retorted, as Aulocos nodded, his nod slowly turning into a swivel of movements.

“So – what are you suggesting?”

“You obviously know well what I am suggesting.” Gelectriax finished.

A message to the World.
In this instance, I place the greatest of the Jenrakian prizes up for anybody with the power to take – I offer the Queen of the white Hooks, my dear Lady Rashkta Nirandu. She will provide the introductions – the variable to this meeting is simple – submit age, country of origin, likes, dislikes, habits and any relevant information of the candidate towards me, and I will personally make sure she receives it. A picture will assist us greatly, and her as well.

Aulocos

OOC: I refuse to post a picture of Rashkta, mostly since it will simply be a gyped off picture from somewhere else, and she has a very unique beauty. Also, OOC MUST be in small text such as this. PS - this is open.

OOC: Hey, Jenrak, I've got planety of potential and capable 'contenders', but I've added a tweak to my nation since I was Green Sun and Pananab. We're Drow Elves. Is that OK?

OOC: How different are these 'Drow Elves' you speak of, Green Sun?

OOC: 1) They live really long lives. As in, around 700 years. 2) They have black skin and white hair. 3) The Elven long, pointy exsist on them. 4) They can see in the dark well, as in have infared vision. 5) Their society is female-dominated. 6) Spiders are holy to them. 7) They're sensitive to light and have better hearing. 8) They're bad shots. My Drow Elves have very little experience with modern technology, they're still adjusting to NS life. But they've since converted to a Constitutional Monarchy and are looking for political influence to spread about. But other than those 8 things, their's not a lot of difference between humans and my Drow. And I only make use of their special abilities (Like better hearing and sight) when it's given to me by other players. I just wanted to do sometyhing different after my other accounts expired.

Castle Von Wolf, Northern-west Romania, The Dominion

The Count looked through all of his message, some strange and some weird. Most dealing with things happening in within the land of the Dominion. He stopped on one message, one from his allies, the Jenrakians.

“Now, what is this?” he asked out loud, as he open the message.

He reads the message to himself a few times before laughing. “She will be harder to get. I’m too old to try and get her young hot self. Plus, I don’t need eight brides.”

He wrote something down on a piece of paper next to him. A note or something for him to keep an eye on this.

Meanwhile in Northern-western Russia, The Dominion

The night has fallen on the snowy surface of the ground, Prince Jibade (http://www.freewebs.com/thetransylvania/Jibade.JPG) ran forwards into a enemy in red. He was fighting vampire hunters. He ran his blade into the head of his enemy.

Behind him came four armored men, wearing the armor (http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y101/CountJWolf/LosguardiasdeDiablosArmor.jpg) of Los guardias de Diablo, the Devil's guards, the royal guards. Their flags (http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y101/CountJWolf/LosguardiasdeDiablosFlag.jpg) flew proudly in the wind.

The Prince, their leader, charged forwards into the vampire hunter armed with swords and axes. The battle last fifteen minutes with all vampire hunter killed and rotting on the snowy ground. Jibade stood over the body of the leader of the vampire hunters.

“That will teach you.” he said at the lifeless body.

One of Los guardias de Diablo walked over to him. “My lord, Lord Gahiji asked for your wishes to go and try to get the hand of Lady Rashkta Nirandu.” said the armored man as he bowed his head.

Jibade thought about who this Lady Rashkta Nirandu was and why his first son would want her hand in marriage. “Very well, tell him he has my best wishes on his mission.” said the Prince.

“Yes, my lord.” said the armored man before heading off to deliver the message.

Lord Gahiji was already in the air, heading toward Jenrak, when he got the message from his father’s men. He opened up his laptop and send a message to Aulocos.

---------

Dear Aulocos,

I write this message to you for the offer of Lady Rashkta Nirandu’s hand in marriage. I know it will be hard because of who she is. But I’m up to whatever I will have to do to get her hand. I know what my cousin, Remy, had to do to get the hand of Denise. So I know it will not be easy.

I’m 3,273 years old, my father is Prince Jibade and my mother was Japanese warrior. My mother has long been gone from my life, she was never turned into a vampire. So my sister and I are half vampire and half human hybrid.

About my country of origin, it is ancient Japan. But as of today, I’m from the Dominion.

My likes are anything to do with Japan, the ways of assassins and ninjas, and people with white in their hair. You will see why I have the last part wrote down after you see my picture. My dislikes are idiots, vampire hunters, and people with bad manners.

My habits: I’m was raised to become an assassin and one I have became. I use weapons of ancient times over firearms of modern days. Being a hybrid, I don’t have to fear the sun like normal vampires. Most of my days, I have hunted down vampire hunters or anybody that is a threat to me or my family. I know I would make a better assassin in any nation of the known world for my knowledge and training with my weapons.

Here is a picture of me: http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y101/CountJWolf/Gahiji.jpg

It is the uniform I wear during missions. I do have a face but the half mask hides it.

Signed,
Lord Gahiji

...

OOC: Sounds alright.

...

Replied Message from the Ahkhaz'aduu
Lord Aulocos is currently in debate with Senior General Dorian at the moment. He will send a reasonable response back soon.

Replied Message from the Ahkhaz'aduu
Lord Aulocos is currently in debate with Senior General Dorian at the moment. He will send a reasonable response back soon.

Very well, my plane should land in at a Dominionite base in six hours or less. So, I will wait for his message.

Signed,
Lord Gahiji

-----------

On the plane, Gahiji pulled out a dagger from his bag and started cleaning it with sword cleaning things. He was wearing a three thousand dollar three-piece blue suit, which his grandfather got him. His hair was in the same way it always looks like. The same way in the picture he sent.

The following form was wired to the relevant authorities from 4th Border Guards Regiment:

Name: Beckenbauer, Ernst
Age: 22
Rank: Lieutenant, 9th Company, 2nd Batallion, 4th Border Guards Regiment (Army)
Distinguishing marks: missing top of left ear (shot off during a skirmish), walks with a slight limp
Likes: swordplay (regimental representative at the Skgorrian Swordplay Tournament), poetry, Skgorrian National Socialist Party
Dislikes: knitting, weakness, Jews

OOC: Is this MT/PMT or FT? Also, do you have a thread where I can go to find some of your history? I need to know because if you have a good reputation, I will be more inclined to send a submission.

“I'm quite confused as to the nature of this meeting-”

“Cut the crap Osman,” interrupted Minister of State James Drucker, cutting off his colleague, Minister of Health Osman Loewe, in the middle of his remark. “You've seen the report already. How much more shit can we take? Don't look at that question as rhetorical- I'm asking you how much you think we can take.”

“Look, James-”

“You realize that this was the last straw? There's a 6-7 lock in the Council right now, with those 6 wanting to have Gamal lined up against a wall and shot. Quite frankly, after this last incident, I'm leaning towards that myself. I mean, for God's sake Osman, can't you control him?”

Loewe shot a sour look back. “You think I haven't tried? You think I haven't requested myself to have the Institute watch and detain him? Do you know how hard it is to ask State Security to do that to your own son?”

“And, yet, it didn't work. He's had the remarkable ability to slip out from under those watching him and doing the most annoying things to the citizens of whatever place you stick him in. Sniping a gang who he felt insulted him, knifing three men outsidea bar, kidnapping and then murdering the student who ran against him for class office at Unversity- Osman, he's gone too damn far with that last one. Christian was the son of an Assembly member and now the man's threatened to go to press with this. Gamal has become a liability and we need to get him out of here.”

Turning away with a snarl etched into his face, Loewe tried to break away from the conversation he was now stuck in. “So it's now to be 7 for him to be put up against a wall.”

Drucker grabbed his arm and turned him back around. “Did I ever say that? He's a problem, but we've invested too much in him. There's another way- one that will put him in a system that seems to encourage the behavior he shows and will provide us with what amounts to a diplomatic coup.”


To: Lord Aulocos
From: Osman Loewe, Minister of Health, The Almighty People's Republic of Samtonia
Regarding: Marriage

Sir,
After receiving word of your offer of the hand of the Lady Rashkta Nirandu to a suitable suitor, I have been tasked by the Council of Thirteen to offer as a candidate my son, Gamal Loewe. As you are certainly not aware of, Gamal has been involved in a number of incidents that have forced the Council to, in essence, send him out of the country. After receiving word on your offer, it appears to the Council that Jenrak is the most suitable site for Gamal. He himself is excited at the possibilities that life in Jenrak and marriage to Lady Nirandu both present.

Regarding the brief biography (though I'm certain you agree with me that a personal meeting is necessary in any matter such as this), here is the information requested on Gamal. I do hope that this matter works out for the best for both Jenrak and Samtonia.

Name: Gamal Loewe
Age: 28
Nationality: Samtonian
Personality: Beneath a taciturn and social exterior lies the competitive and often violent heart of a man who wishes to carve himself a secure and comfortable position in whatever society he finds himself in. Fiercly competitive, but without the ego generally associated with that condition, he can be considered to be an erudite and charming person when he wishes to be, or a violent and cruel sociopath when he wishes. He takes as hobbies anything in the area where he is that is considered an acceptable form of competition- chess, fencing, jousting, or dueling, should the locale he finds himself in count any of those as their competitive mainstay, for instance. Sports are a favorite- participation, not observation, as they provide another competitive outlet.

Picture (http://www.egypttoday.com/imageview.aspx?ID=2612)

OOC: By the way, it IS possible to have a half-Drow.

It's hard to surprise a Drow. Really, REALLY hard. But this was a plain shocker to Tazuriee Melith (http://www.geocities.com/krystal_realm1/males/caped-drow.jpg) when he heard the news that he was to court a human Queen. His Mother, the Matron Queen Vasryn, and Matron Mother Alyae had both agreed to this. He was still a Noble and he understood a bit about Human politics, where only Nobles could marry Nobles legally, but he was a Drow! A Wizard Drow at that! A scientist, a magician, an adviser! He should be locked in his room with mountains of books and a computer, not off having sex with some human! Was a union between a human and a Drow? He had heard rumors of such, but none confirmed! Tazuriee pleaded to his older Brother, Hatchavin, to get him to change the mind of Alyae and his mother, but Hatchavin was teh one who had suggested it in the first place!

"I am one of the most antisocial, grumpy, lonely creatures on the planet!" he pleaded to Alyae, near a state of tears, "I won't even let spiders into my room!"

"You're sensitive!" she replied with a smile that almost scared him, "You're the Fourthboy of House Melith, the most powerful House in the Drow Empire, which effectively holds two seats in the Council and its former Matron Mother is the Queen! You're incredibly intelligent, physically capable, and I've heard stories about you and Drow women. How many daughters do you have?"

Tazuriee sighed.
"Alright, alright, I'll do it, and I'll put my dammest into this, but I really don't see why it has to be ME."
"Because you're the only Melith son left. We've married the others off already."
"What about one of your brothers?"
"Morons."
"But I've no political experience at all!"
"You do now. Now shut up and write that damn letter before you make me angry."
He left it at that. He wasn't that anxious or objective to this. He was just in the middle of a very neat book called "Karma Sutra for Dummies" and was in the middle of translating it. It was about Human Martial Arts moves or something. He made sure his books were looked after and wrote up his letter. He soon realized that he had few Human linguistic skills and had it translated by a Wizard whose family was knwon for their translation skills. he bought a neat ring that empowered him to speak whatever language the person he was talking to spoke to make things easier. He then had the book he was working on translated, and soon realized it was a book about human sex moves, and read it while he had the time between packing and pacing back and forth, waiting for news.

Respected Lord Aulocos of Jenrak,

As you have undoubtably have figured out from the mere presence of this letter, I am writing for permission to court Lady Rashkta Nirandu for her hand in marriage. My name is Tazuriee, Fourth Boy of House Melith, the Ruling House of the Sch'Naggio Imperium and its subjects, age three-hundred twenty-eight and looking rather well for one of my age. I am a scholar by profession, which has become my true passion. My People, my culture, and my Empire are new to this world and we are adjusting well to the sudden changes, and I have made it my personal goal in life to study all I can about other nations. Aside from my profession, I am an avid writer, deeply religious, a pet-keeper (Several lizards, a rather large rat, three cats, two dogs, and various species of insects and bugs) and I often enjoy the occasional sport, foreign or otherwise. I rather dislike those who do not attempt bringing up their mental abilities, surprises, sensless things, and unused weapons. I have attatched a shrunken copy of my portrait. I hope that these transactions will at least bring about an understanding of each other's cultures and our worlds, but I do hope that it will end in much more than that.

Sincerely,
Tazuriee Melith (And then a long list of his titles and achievements.)

"There. Human women do like spiders, don't they?"
"Of course they do," his brother assured him, "If Drow and Human women are anything alike, they'll LOVE spiders."

[SIZE="1"]...
OOC: I don't know. Ask around. It'd be egotistic for me to assume my own reputation.

...

...

...

General Message from lord Aulocos,

As if this moment, the current applications are accepted, and I will leave the door to courtship open for only a little while longer, but for those who have earlier sent in applications, I will be paying for your fare, first class towards the grand city of Ouridna, where you will be met by myself personally.

I look forward to you there.

Lord Gahiji’s, well his grandfather’s plane lands at Base Omega in Raunin, Jenrak. The plane slowed itself on one of the many runways at the base. As the base stopped, Gahiji was met by ten Dominionite soldiers.

They lead him to a waiting black H-92 Superhawk transport helicopters. With his bags in the back and him in his seat. The large helicopter entered the air, heading towards Ouridna. Two black Ka-50 Black Shark attack helicopters formed up on each side of the transport copter.

The first to arrive in Jenrak, lucky for Gahiji that Jenrak and the Dominion are close with already two members of the House of Wolf married to Jenrakians. It was three but that is a long story.

Office of the prime minister of the UK in Exile

to: Aulocos

regarding: marriage proposal

dear sir, I write to you regarding an endorsement of a friend of mine for the hand of Lady Rashkta Nirandu. naturally since i am writting in his stead you may have formed the opinion that he is a shy individual, indeed let us be frank you may see him as a coward. i can assure you nothing is further from the truth, the Principality of Achillean, from which captain Hans Wolfslarr hails practices voluntary conscription and he has served in the front lines showing particular distain for enemy fire and a positive relish for hand to hand, however he felt that given his some what broken schooling (even in my presence he rarely utters a word, many assume him to be mute) his suite would be best pressed by the tongue of another, the captain himself is a young man, appearing not a day over twenty five, he has travelled much of the world but it would be fair to say that his intrests lie best in nature, he has a positive dislike of crowds and formal occasions, generally not reacting well to them but placed in a forest or a garden, even a nearby field would do then he is a master of his environment, any accomodation arrangements would be best ordered with this in mind. in truth such habits are maybe part of a darker history, his people spend much of their time wandering the forests, his love of nature may be no more than this but locals tell tales of darker things occuring in the woods of his home, beast that talk like men and men that acts like beasts, the captain himself, though as i have previously made reference not a talkative individual, would undoubtably be a rather better source on the credence of such myth than I.

since your time is short i will say no more other than the captain desires very much to meet Lady Rashkta Nirandu and hopes to attend with a small entourage, (of no more than three I assure you). however regardless of their acceptance he intends to attend, indeed it was something of an effort to persuade him that writting to you in advance was a worthy activity.

I await your response with breathless anticipation

Kurichicuki Rukia
Office of the prime minister of the UK in Exile

*scrawled at the bottom*

i hope verry much that u will conzent to meting me

HANS WOLFSLARR

http://bukkorosu.net/manga/hellsing/captain.jpg

OOC: oh and heres a picture i haven't got photo bucket or art skills so i have to poach pictures, not mine disclaimer here

To: Aulocos
From: Domingo Jesús Castaneda Pérez
Regarding: That Marriage Proposal

A little birdie told me that Queen Rashkta was in need of someone to get married to. While I'm the farthest thing from the government officials and the like I see offering themselves up for this job, I'd like to give it a try anyway.

Name: Domingo Jesús Castaneda Pérez
Age: 26
Nationality: Tejano
Description: Latino, short black hair, dark brown eyes, large mustache. Tall, muscular, has scar across left cheek from the Tejano Civil War.
Personality: I'm an easygoing type of guy. It's very hard to get me angry, although it's definitely something you don't want to do. I'm outgoing, talk a lot, but I know when to shut up. Usually.
Interests...basketball, the saxophone (I play one at a jazz club in downtown Santa Miguela), and hip-hop music. There's other stuff, of course, but I'm much more likely to start blabbing about the new El Guerilla single that just came out than have an intellectual discussion about...whatever it is people who have intellectual discussions usually talk about.

[URL="http://bukkorosu.net/manga/hellsing/captain.jpg"]...
OOC: OOC in small letters, damn it!

*bump

ooc: Am I approved or not?

A large package was sent to Aulocos, mostly full of gifts of gold and silver jewelry. Laid upon all of the paper wrappings was a note, which said:

To the Divinely Gifted Lady Rashkta Nirandu, Eternal Love of My Life

At the bottom of this declaration, Prince Leopold Salisbury had signed his name.

Also in the package was a gently wrapped painting and an envelope sealed with the Royal Seal of House Salisbury. Inside the envelope was a letter, written in very large, artistic print by the King, detailing all of the information desired by Aulocos and then some:



http://img172.imageshack.us/img172/9138/cotenshirecoatofarmsee2.png

To the Most Beautiful Lady Rashkta Nirandu, Queen of the White Hooks, and the Noble Lord Aulocos,

On this day, granted by the Divine Providence, Cotenshirish Christian God, the Most Honourable, Most Sublime, Most Potent King William Salisbury V submits, with divine consent, to the Most Gracious Queen Rashkta Nirandu, Queen of the White Hooks, a proposal, conceived in thought through unparalleled wisdom by the Most Christian, Most Potent, Most Serene King, and inspired under guidance from the Most Holy and Undivided Trinity, Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.

Enlightened by the Noble Lord Aulocos, whom through correspondence the Most Glorious, Most Serene, Most Potent King hath been enthralled, the noble and Christian wish, that being of Holy Matrimony, which brings jubilation even among the Most Divine Seraphs of Heaven, of the Most Beautiful Queen Rashkta Nirandu hath been acknowledged by the Most Serene, Most Potent King. So be it.

It is with Great Enlightened Holy Splendor that His Cotenshirick Majesty, the Most Potent, Most Serene, Most Christian King, now presents forth, in sincere countenance as wished by the Holy Divine Providence, a Most Sublime Submission, inspired by the Divine Providence, from, and only from, whom all blissful and eternal blessings of salvation are channeled, to the Most Magnificent Queen Rashkta Nirandu, Queen of the White Hooks, for consensual marriage and other such acts as redeemed by the contracting parties.

It is with great and industrious haste, as not to exceed and strain the breath of a Queen, that the Most Sublime, Most Potent, Most Serene, Most Christian King presents for the approval of Queen Rashkta Nirandu, Queen of the White Hooks, and the other Great Lords of Jenrak, the Most Potent, Most Serene King’s son by moral birth, the Most Noble, Most Fertile Prince Leopold Salisbury, as surely the Most Sublime Submission to be received by The Most Beautiful Queen.

Be it endowed in the following articles the components required by the Most High Lord Aulocos:

I. A Most Proud, Most Majestic chap, Twenty-six years of age, with fair skin and round, tender shoulders. Hails from Cotenshire, a Most Noble Candidate from its Most Noble House of Salisbury. Enjoys majestic hunts, commandeers a Most Noble Steed, fulfills his Christian duties to the Lord, and delights salons with his performances on flute, piano, and harpsichord. Disengaged and angered by vulgarness, recklessness, and heathens, which he oft do slay in his Most Noble and Glorious Campaigns. Is Majestic and Powerful in all that he does, as only a Most Noble Prince, Second in Line for the Most High, Most Christian, Most Splendid, Most Holy, Most Potent Throne of The Kingdom of Cotenshire should. A more Noble, Pure candidate will never be found.

It is for Most Righteous, Most Noble pursuits that this declaration is now concluded on the seventh hour by the Most Serene, Most Potent King.

Signed,
I, the King



The painting in the package was a portrait of Prince Leopold (http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/e/ed/Louis_Gauffier_-_Portrait_of_Prince_Augustus_Frederick.jpg), painted by an artist of the court.

Tazuriee was glad he wore sunglasses and lots of clothing, despite the heat from the sun. It was very bright this day, and the rays would have stung his eyes and his skin. He sighed as 'servants' held up several banners of the Drow Empire, Melith, and of the Scholars' Academy (Formerly the Wizard's acedemy.) Why did everything with humans have to be so flashy? Why can't they be more effecient and stop whining about Nuclear power when it has virtually no risks? Hell, the Drow used the waste in colloseums and war-traps. Useful stuff, of course teh Drow were more resistant to nuclear radiation than humans. Maybe he could start bragging about Drow immunities and abilities to her? He never intentionally attracted women. He was the Fourth Son of Vasryn Melith, he didn't choose, he was chosen. Most of his competitors had more power than he did. Their nations had more technology, political influence, military power, population, vast areas of land...What did his have? Natural immunities and muscle control? Ruthlessness? The Drow were largely unknown, even in Kologk. The Drow hadn't done much other than a few Black Ops operations and political manipulation there.
Then he remembered that they were Drow. Drow have everything.
He puffed up his chest a bit, unhid his sword, and walked to the Jenrakian palace. This wouldn't be hard at all.

All are approved, and the meeting of Rashkta will be in due time once upon Ouridna.

Lord Aulocos

Colour. That was what splashed the room as the tall marble pillars stood amongst gloomy statues, knives and swords of stone standing and leaning against built bodies of marble, steel crutches holding up the massive temple as its ceiling loomed with a shadow of its own. Enormous, gargantuan, immense – those were the words of one who had never seen the architectural marvels that were the temples within the Azhujurius, the massive monuments built in the name of Enkur. Upon this colourful display, Temsplaces roamed the place, their eyes hidden beneath a stone like helmet, their shields as thick as tank armour, their body moving swiftly within their shells, the clanging of metal loudly reverberating from their feet. From here, Aulocos nodded, preparing his game, his twisted game of test and wit and might. It was time to see who was worthy, and who was not.

As Rashkta stood there, her eyes scanning across Aulocos’ swift metal-gloven fingers, she had a look of boredom within her, her soul cast a shade of disgust as he viewed the profiles and the letters. Raising his head, his face charcoaled and torn of flesh beneath the cold steel and porcelain mask, Aulocos rasped out words that seemed barely audible. Holding up the prospective bachelors, Rashkta looked at the pictures, the files, the information supplied by each one. “These men are enemies of the state. Do not show, do what is needed to rid them from the Tsellia.” Aulocos said to Rashkta, as she looked at the sheets with interested, before looking back at Aulocos.

“They don’t look like threats. They look like lonely men.” Rashkta said with wonder, trying to pierce into Aulocos’ mind, but the afflicted King of Hooks sigh carefully. Rashkta did not know that Aulocos offered her hand in marriage to the world – she assumed that these men were political enemies, not prospective husbands. “Are you sure?” She asked, her silvery hair flowing perfectly upon her chest, her fingers running along her side as she looked at the paper once more, her shimmering black eyes peering back up occasionally to dot a glance at Aulocos with interest. “This is a lot in one assignment, Aulocos.” Rashkta warned. “Why me? Egos is perfectly suited to a body count like this.”

“I need your touch in this.” Aulocos said. “There will be a mock party in the main hall. They will gather there, take them out.” Aulocos said to Rashkta, as she sighed, and then nodded.

“Alright. This shouldn’t take too long.” Rashkta quipped, before walking out, her fingers at her side.

To all the approved prospectors, a party is being held in the main hall of the Ouridna City Quarters, where Rashkta will personally greet you all.

Sign, Aulocos

OOC: Everyone is approved. No more applications, please.

((Oh, I see how it is. Nobody loves Tazuriee the Drow.))
Tazuriee had been to several parties, many of them rather formal, so he had a pretty good idea on how to act. Stand around and drink. Not obnoxiously like Duergar formal parties, which usually end in a lot of spilled ale and several fights, but really just stand around, drink, and talk about idle things. After the plane ride, which made him unnaturally queasy, he needed a drink. He hoped that Human drinks weren't wimpy. Tazuriee made best haste to the Town Hall, glad his family hired a personal automobile with a chauffeur. Teh car seemed nice; It was long for a car and shined a bright black. Tazuriee thought it was an insult to the color. He hadn't a clue what was to happen as he made his way into the building and finally saw his competitors.

Gahiji, Gahiji Yoshikage, the Master of Death, walked through the large doors of the building in Ouridna. The building where he would be the others trying to take Rashkta’s hand, his lady’s hand in marriage. She was an assassin and he was the oldest assassin in the whole world.

He smiled, knowing that he was going to pass a test set up by Aulocos, as he walked into the massive room. His bag of goodies over his right shoulder, his dragon handled katana in the center of his back.

Gahiji knew what the Jenrakian were like, he knew the games they would play. Deadly games, he hoped for. Maybe he did not have to take out all of them by himself.

He stepped into the main hall and looked around. Even with one eye covered by his black and white hair, he saw everything in the room. He listened to the heart beat in the room, seeing in the dark area of the room. The young looking man had more surprises up his sleeve, he was born a mutant. But would he need to use those power, he will wait and see about that.

The five foot ten inch tall, dark suited rich boy with a katana and a duffle bag is what he looked like or that is what his competitors would think.

ooc: i take it i'm not invited then?

ooc: i take it i'm not invited then?

OOC: Jenrak said everyone is approved. No more applications, please.

The dining hall was filled with a buzz of noise, and as the foreign men did whatever they were doing, Rashkta looked upon them from a massive catwalk hidden beneath the shades of curtains, her eye cold, her mind thinking carefully. She knew what they were, that some of them were different than others, and thus she employed her skills to her best ability. She wasn’t, after all, the most woman in the Tsellian world for nothing – there was a reason, and her skills that gave her the way to the top was this. As she sat there, a sleek black rifle in her arms, she prepared the final touches of the trap, looking at the bachelors with disgust. She didn’t know they were there for her hand – she thought they were enemies that must be dealt with, no matter what. While the details seemed sketchy, her past murders have always seemed sketchy, odd, unheard of, but she still kept going. She kept quiet, she stayed silent, not a single slither of noise, but she never underestimated her targets, readying her rifle as she looked down upon them, seeing what believed to be a matt of hair poking behind a pillar.

With that, she pulled the trigger, and with the trigger pulled, a blast of noise engulfed the main hall, flares of light blasting all over as she fired off a burst of lead against them, the shrieking noise piercing all over, throbbing noises everywhere in the corners as she kept firing. It had begun.

Hans Wolfslarr, part time soldier and full time introvert stormed into the hall with all the grace of a gutshot deer, the collar of his storm coat pulled up tight around his face and his cap firmly pulled down over his eyes he made no attempt to make eye contact with any of the other guests, instead he found a corner as far away as possible and sat, his back leaning against the wall, were from the slit left between collar and cap he could peer out at the assembling suitors, waiting for the white queen herself to show.

his coat draped over him concealing any weapons he might have been carrying and making anything but the vaguest of phsyical appraisals meaningless, one thing however stood out, he was bigger than your average human.

Gahiji, knowing some fishily was going to happen, dropped down at the sound of gunfire and pushed his duffle bag across the room. Nobody in the room would know who top use his goodies unless they were an assassin of the old world.

He rolled to dodge the hot lead from the shooter, during his roll he drew his katana. He stopped about five feet from his located and stood up. Now, it was time to use the others in the room as cover.

He moved to the left, dodging the hot lead, listening to the sound of the bullet leaving the barrel of the gun. He was going to show what he was made of, he was a members of the House of Wolf. A grandson of JWolf. A destroyer of life. He charged towards the location of the shooter.

Using servants as cover, letting them take the bullets. He was moving fast then a normal human. The shooter was having a hard time saying with him but he could tell he was not the only target. The shooter changed targets then back to Gahiji. But where was he? Did he escape? He was just gone, nothing left of him to be seen.

“Hello.” came a voice from behind Rashkta. The voice was had a small hint of Japanese accent in it. “Not nice to try and kill off a royal family member from the Dominion.” He looked at the shooter and saw her white hair. He knew who it was without looking at her face.

Rashkta chuckled. “Welcome to my world.” Rashkta said with a slight tone of sly thought in her voice. It was evident that she was not surprised. “I read your file, and trust me, I have enough experience in dealing with your kind.” With that, a gaseous blur of smoke waved around her, the small slights in the room blasting up as the whit light shun a shield of invisibility about her, a horrid screeching noise piercing throughout the room, small thumps and bumps heard everywhere, small taps to confuse him, as she heightened the sound, the screeching unbearable as she disappeared into the smoke, nothing more than a soft glitter of the noise heard. The screeching continued.

The light blind him and the screeching noise just made it worst. He was blind and deaf with a killer that could be in his class level. He didn’t attacked towards the taps, she could have kill if she wanted. She was playing with him.

“Well played.” he said out loud, trying to get his bearings. He cupped both of his ears and started out of the room. To get away from the noise. He walkeds like he drunk.

Being a vampire has it’s pros and cons, Gahiji just played with two of those cons.

From the soft tampering shatter that was the noise that frittered down into a silence, the room was blasted apart, the walls showing signs of bullet holes and the food and glasses shattered in Rashkta's rampage of death. Her firing was superb, as seen in the straight, deliberate lines, though she missed them all due to her unforseen visitor. From the cielings, notes were seen flashing down into the floor, small black inklings of letters written on small white strips.

Welcome to Jenrak.

Two big strong hands grab gahiji under his armpits and dragged him towards the door, steadying his course, Hans wolfslarr hauled the vampire out of a door and into safety, before dropping him unceremoniously on the floor, ignoring the half breed for a moment, he turned and sniffed the air before, stabbing his finger decisively in a direction and giving the vampire a quizzical look, the message could not have been clearer are you comeing?

OOC: Let's not do that again, Achillean. Don‘t RP with my characters again.

To the shock of this large man was that it was not Gahiji that he threw out the door. It was him that he picked up but Gahiji got his bearing back and replaced himself with a servant.

He could see but his hearing was still a little messed up. He ignored Hans and heads toward his duffle bag. He placed his katana up and picked up his duffle bag. He looked around the room, looking for someone. The someone that invited them here. Looking for Aulocos.

"Mommy! I want my Comrade Juan action figure!"
"Well, niño, you'll have to wait."
"Mommy, I want my Comrade Juan NOW!"
"Please, Mario, be patient!"
Domingo couldn't stand another second of this. Jenrak was a seven-hour flight from San Eduardo, after a two-hour bus ride from Santa Miguela. All nine hours, he had been seated next to a bratty seven year-old whose mother was always seated two or three rows in front of him. His mother also happened to have his bag, for whatever reason. Finally, his mother was too lazy to get up and give him his Comrade Juan doll...er, um, excuse me, action figure.
So, these four phrases were all Domingo got to hear for nine hours, first on the run-down bus to San Eduardo, then on the packed Ilyushin Il-86 to Jenrak. And Tejana de Aviación planes were always cramped, they had no first class and were always built with seats so close that the person in front of you was usually in your lap.
The plane landed. The second the plane was docked to the terminal, Domingo dashed out into the airport. After haggling with a taxi driver out front, he took the long ride to where he was supposed to go.
The building was ridiculously grandiose. There was nothing at all in Tejas that resembled it, simple as that. Domingo clashed with it horribly, wearing a pair of baggy black jeans, a black T-shirt with a throwback jersey over it, and a beat-up pair of tennis shoes.
He walked through the big doors. First thing he did? Grab a drink. Second thing he did? Drain it.
'Weird,' he thought, 'Where the hell is this Rashkta chick anyway?'
Then he heard a gunshot from above him. Suppressing a, "Los fascistas! Los fascistas! Andale, andale!" he ducked behind a pillar, pulling his Tokarev TT33 from his pocket.
'So, where, exactly, does 'courting' come into this picture?' he thought.

OOC: sorry, only trying to help.

Hans was bored first the wriggly ninja had vanished in the fire fight when he could have used a friend, now the trail he had been following had run cold, bored and frustrated he wandered the halls, idly wondering if the pretty lady was going to be doing so much running and so little fighting if she could at least send some of her friends to entertain him instead.

Tazuriee was rather surprised to find that his glass of wine exploded in his hand as the firing began. He looked up to see the woman we was to try and marry with a gun, aiming at his general direction. Knowing that's it's generally a bad idea to get shot, he ducked out of the way, accidentally into another guest, as he was not among the most graceful of Drow. His infravision spotted the hot pieces of lead and barass expelled by the rifle litter the floor. He felt his cape tug a bit as he dodged the bullets fired at him and realized that they had shot through his cape.
"This is my best Piwafwi!" he moaned as he studied the ornamental cape. Another bullet barely missed his head.
"Hatchavin's going to die for this," Tazuriee grumbled as he found a sturdy stone sculpture to hide behind. Suddenly, just as it had started, the firing sort of stopped and little pieces of paper fluttered to teh floor, each saying, "Welcome to Jenrak!"

Prince Leopold had arrived at the Main Hall before the calamity broke out. He had been accompanied by his father and mother, the King and Queen, as well as one of their servants. The Prince felt somewhat jittery, because the flight here, the longest flight that he had ever experienced, was not well to him. He was dressed in his most formal suit, which was made out of a deep blue velvet. He had on his best wig, which bothered him because it was very itchy. On his person, he only had his flute, which he hoped he would get a chance to use to woo Rashtka.

As the Prince stepped out into the open room, the King attempted to follow, but his wife grabbed his arm. The King whipped around angrily. “What are you doing?” he demanded, quietly but sternly.

“We should not be following him so closely,” she said.

“I must make sure that he does not screw this up!” stammered the King.

“If we see him being introduced to Queen Rashtka, then we will go introduce ourselves. Until then, let us stay here and get a better view of who he is up against.” And so they waited along the side of the room, watching the other suitors.

Prince Leopold proceeded into the room, looking to see if the woman he was supposed to marry had arrived yet. He also saw the other candidates that had arrived, and was distraught that not one of them had dressed properly for this event. Seeing that Rashtka was not yet here, he looked around to see if there was any wine. He was about to ask the Hispanic-looking man to fetch him some when the first gunshot was fired.

Prince Leopold quickly dashed behind the nearest pillar he could find, positioning himself on the other side from where he thought the gunfire was coming from. He heard more shots being fired, and the room was sinking into pandemonium around him. The Prince had some combat experience, but he was never on the front lines, and, in this situation, was unarmed, so fighting back was not an option. Someone of my importance must remove myself from this danger immediately, he thought, and hope that those over-armored guards that I saw can take care of this despicable assassin.

A bullet ricocheted off of the wall and almost hit him. The Prince realized that he was not safe where he was and ran to the nearest exit of the room, keeping his head down to try and prevent the assassin from recognizing and targeting him. The exit to which he ran happened to be the door that he had come in.

During this whole ordeal, he had not seen his parents. He assumed that they had gotten out of the room before he had. Not knowing where to go, he ran in front of the first Temsplace that he saw.

“Halt at once! I am Prince Leopold of Cotenshire. Escort me to a safe area.”

OOC: FYI, Tazuriee is dressed quite formally for a Drow.
"In case you haven't NOTICED, their queen is SHOOTING AT US. You think they're going to help you out if their leader is shooting at you?" Tazuriee asked in a somewhat Spanish accent. His lavender displayed his sword, which he had little experience with for a Drow but more than humans get in a lifetime. A large piece landed on his head, and he decided to move to another, less shot statue.

What the Prince heard from the fiend that had just screamed at him was too idiotic to further contemplate. The Prince had not seen who was shooting, but why would a woman, especially one as delicate as a Queen, lure her suitors into a party and then attempt to murder them? Prince Leopold turned to see what kind of knave could be implying such incredulous things. “Quiet, you burnt skinned oaf,” he said dismissively, keeping his eyes on the Temsplace.

Gamal Loewe had been having what amounted to one hell of a boring time. Table full of punch and drinks- there was always a table filled with punch and drinks. Waiters wandering about with food- again, something there always was at parties of any kind. The other single men lounging about- well, yes, always a fixture at parties. The sound of gunfire and noise tearing through a ballroom, along with a hail of bullets and sporadically flashing lights? Not a normal feature at parties.

Loewe had begun to turn to dive under the nearest table when a bullet hit him, punching cleanly through his shoulder. "Fuck!" he screamed as he up-ended the table, punch and alcoholic drinks flying everywhere on the floor. The thing was thick enough to stop at least some bullets- and it gave a lot more cover than the rather small pillars around the room. Laying almost flat on the ground, he counted himself at least somewhat safe for the time being.

With safety out of the way, he looked at the smoking hole that was neatly placed through his expensive Pacitalian-made suit. "Damn it!" he swore, examining both the hole and the wound. "They fucking shot me! And ruined my suit!" With that thought etched in his mind, he drew the hidden pistol he had gotten into the reception past security, idly checking to make sure it was loaded. Snapping up, he popped off two quick shots in the direction he thought the murderous fire had come from, before dropping back down, swearing as he saw the other suitors either hiding or leaving the room- not shooting at something to try to keep the shooter's (or shooters') head down.

"Fucking savages!" he snarled, preparing himself for his next move, muttering to himself the entire time. "Go to Jenrak, Gamal! Go court the person you're supposed to be marrying! Go walk into the middle of the fucking national firing range!"

Tazuriee drew his blade and moved towards teh spoiled prince, but another shot ripped the top of his shoe.
"If I wasn't getting SHOT at I would chop off your head and send it to my sister as a gift. In fact, that's exactly what I'm going to do the first chance I get," Tazuriee snarled. He wished he had memorized some spells the previous night so he could burn the man to a crisp with a single thought, but the threat itself probably was going to send the City into war with whatever nation he was from. He didn't care, the Drow warriors would like the sport.

Gahiji stopped looking for Aulocos after he heard the words of the gray skinned pointed ear person and the royal ass commanding Temsplace. With his duffle bag over his shoulder, he calmly walked over to them both.

“Get your fact straight, Drow.” he said. He knew that this man was a Drow for the fact the Dominion ran into them in Kologk, which is a Dominion Protectorate now. “Rashtka is not the queen of Jenrak. She is the leader of a bunch of crazy man eating warriors. Rashtka was not shooting at us, you have no proof. The shooter was on the massive catwalk hidden beneath the shades of curtains, you fool. But it was a she.” OOC: I’m the only one that knew who did it. She was hidden from everybody.

Then he looked at Prince Leopold. “And you are a royal jackass, Temsplaces are not here for you to boss around. Now, hush up and chill. Your royal butt is safe. Listen, no shooting. And you can thank me for that.”

With that, he turned and started walking off….

"Yes, thank you for correcting me. It slipped my mind. The Queen of the White Hooks. She's still Nobility here in Jenrak, so the thought still stands. And if you notice, there are no women in this room, and yet I smell a distinct combination of gunpowder and artificial human scents-Perfumes, correct? And they are only worn by human women, save for a few demented individuals or old Monarchs. With her history, I came to a conclusion. I like this place," Tazuriee went on, then caught himself rambling. He didn't blame himself for that-He was a Scholar, and one who was just shot at. It was only natural, but he had to look cool after the shooting. He watched Gahiji walked away and smiled.
One less competitor, he thought.

As Rashkta looked at the sheets, she had a look of interest – how did they live? She wondered, readying her magazine, the lead filling into her machine gun as she waited upon the coastal edge, the soft water splashing upon the beach. “Political enemies, my ass, Aulocos. What’s going on?” Rashkta looked, before a slosh of noise was heard behind her, followed by heavy cursing. As she turned around, her left hand quickly latched upon her blade, her right hand holding a revolver, she saw the ragged red robes, the shining blood-stained armour, the featureless swell of the shadowy face hidden beneath the helmet. She laid down her guard, smiling for the first time, her face radiating to ten times her beauty, her silver hair shining amongst the faintly lit sunlight. “Sir.” She acknowledged, as the blood-stained figure sat there upon the lifeguard chair.

They were the only two upon the beaches. “Rashkta, a pleasure to see you.” Gelectriax nodded, her metal gauntlets tapping on his steel knees, an eerie, rhythmic silence following them both. “How is your assignment?” Gelectriax asked, as the Lady of the White Hooks looked at him with curiosity.

“What assignment?”

“I know that Aulocos gave you these…assignments…to rid these political foes. That’s why they’re so dangerous, so cunning. Looks are deceiving, Rashkta. They’re a lot harder to kill, which is why you underestimated them, and they got away.”

“I’ll make sure they won’t live to see the sunset, Gelectriax.” Rashkta warned him, but with a coy, almost playful voice. “I my best on the case, both the Lords Eidhekhon and Azhu’jaazuun.”

Gelectriax shook his head. “Azhu’jaazuun – you still employ that bloodlust of a man? He’s going to kill you one day, you understand that?”

“He’ll try.” Rashkta corrected him.

“Of course. However, I’ve been informed by certain sources that their immediate deaths are not the best of our interests. They know things, and this could be advantageous to the Azhujurius.”

“What about the Aursauk? Surely those children could use work.” Rashkta said, as Gelectriax nodded.

“No, they need to talk to an attractive woman such as yourself. Thaurausk is too distraught after Alaik’s betrayal to do anything properly, Ashili and Denise are both married, and I don’t think they would respond well to men flirting with them.” Gelectriax joked and quipped at the end, as Rashkta laughed heartily.

“Alright, my Lord. I’ll do what you ask.” Rashkta confided.

“Saaskra’duun siliath [Who is he?]?” The Temsplace looked at Prince Leopold, his face hidden beneath a thick racket of stone and metal, his clanking armour noisily heard as he looked towards the other Temsplace nearby, the massive warrior shrugging as his rocket launcher was held softly in his fingers, his gargantuan sword at his side as he looked at the Prince.

“Kama ithrimm [Looks foreign.]” The other Temsplace looked, turning around. It was obvious that they did not understand nor speak English. It was also blatantly obvious that these hulking machines of men did not waste their time talking to foreigners, no matter who it was.

With that, a personal message was sent to the bachelors, the courtiers, by Aulocos himself, save for the Drow, on which a message emanated from Rashkta herself. “Hi, how about lunch?” She simply asked through the message, her voice sweet and tender.

Tazuriee had to fight a big, goofy grin from erupting. He hadn't known how good she was. She was good, and very ruthless, from what he'd read and found out about. It sounded like all of his former mates. He was able to muster it down to an equally pleasant smile and made a slight bow.
"I would be happy to join you for lunch, Lady Rashkta. I doubt this place would be suitable for the mid-day meal. Did you have something specific in mind, or would you like to see something..."
He thought for a moment.
"Foreign?"

The poor Drow though wrong, if he thought Gahiji was walking away from this. He was on a mission to track Aulocos down. He looked around the room, looking for the leper. Where are you at? he said to himself.

Damn, Rashkta is a nuts. he said in his mind. What type of game is she playing with us?

He placed his duffle bag on a table and looked over at the folks that wanted the hand of the woman that just tried to kill them. He would be the assassin, watching the others before he strikes.

With that, a personal message was sent to the bachelors, the courtiers, by Aulocos himself, save for the Drow, on which a message emanated from Rashkta herself. “Hi, how about lunch?” She simply asked through the message, her voice sweet and tender.

OOC: Since Rashkta cannot be in multiple places at once, I only sent it to Valley of the Giant, mostly since he was the first to reply to my thread. H-Town and Trans, please edit your posts, you'll still have enough to do by chatting with Aulocos. Valley is the one who's going to lunch with Rashkta.

ooc: Sorry, it was fuzzy to me the way you wrote it.

“A Dominionite. I’m sure you’re more than aware of my borders, and vice versa, Mr. Gahiji. I see you’ve come to try and seek out the greatest prize of the Tsellian world – the hand of the infamous Lady Rashkta, the woman whose words can lead to wholesale slaughter, pillaging and rape of entire nations. Tell me, why did you answer my request?” Aulocos asked, his voice a slight rasp.

OOC: Don’t worry about it. My writing is written in a very different lore. I tend to write much more longer posts when I’m in the mood, as most people on II can confirm.

OOC: Oh, damn, I was hoping that it was because he was Drow.

“A Dominionite. I’m sure you’re more than aware of my borders, and vice versa, Mr. Gahiji. I see you’ve come to try and seek out the greatest prize of the Tsellian world – the hand of the infamous Lady Rashkta, the woman whose words can lead to wholesale slaughter, pillaging and rape of entire nations. Tell me, why did you answer my request?” Aulocos asked, his voice a slight rasp.

Gahiji looked over at Aulocos, he bowed his head. “I don’t know what is in Dominionites and wanting to marry Jenrakians. Maybe it is in our blood, Lord.” he said. “Or maybe it is the fact that she and me are alike. Both assassins, allied together and we would create a dangerous team. Am i right?”

“Early was fun, she did get me back. Playing on two of my cons.” he added, still looking at the leper.

Gamal, after having cautiously and slowly made his way from the room that was now littered with the chipped stone, metal slugs, and slightly burning tapestries so characteristic of a full-scale ambush, was, to skip the flowery language, about as pissed as he could be.

He stormed from the ballroom, pistol still in his hand, and positively burst into the antechamber that the other suitors had quickly moved into once fighting started. The sight in that room confirmed it- he was in a seriously messed up place. The other suitors were simply standing around, chatting with some Jenrakian who looked important. As if nothing had happened. But, of course, none had stuck around after firing started and none had had their new (Brand new! Expensive!) suits (and shoulders) shot through by whoever it was that had shot.

Loewe shook his head ruefully and began ripping off excess cloth from his shirt to try to bandage the wound, which had begun to bleed a bit more than at first. "Okay- you. Ahh.... Aulocos, I think it was. I've got a few questions, most notably being where the hell is your security? And, second, what the hell were they doing that put me smack in the middle of what appears to be a shoting range designed for my benefit?"

“My security?” Aulocos asked, a sly temper in his voice, his face hidden beneath the porcelain, red blood stains upon its surface as it glimmered with the piercing, drenching sunlight that poured in wafts. “My security was right here, though it’s apparent that the shooter seemed to have more experience in dealing with check-ups than I thought. While there was security, I did not bother to heighten it to any respectable level – after all, this was to be a simple matter of meetings.” He rasped, his cold voice a short sliver of silence. “Though I understand your digress, and I will offer that new loss of personal items be replaced immediately by us, and I will have you move into safe hotels where you will be watched over by the Temsplace.”

After the shooting had subsided, Domingo had followed the other suitors into an antechamber, where this Aulocos guy who had sent out this letter in the first place was to meet them. The brother was dressed freaky, in a bloodstained mask and armor.
Upon entering the room, Domingo had sat down at the table in the room, leaned back, and kicked his feet up, whistling the tune to "Guerrero Revolucionario" by MC Kalashnikov. However, despite how relaxed he look, he was really pissed off, especially when one of the suitors, who hadn't come here with everyone burst in and started yelling at Aulocos for "putting him in the middle of a firing range." He had been hearing nothing but bitching for nine hours straight already, hadn't he?
On top of that, where was Rashkta? Besides Elf-boy's tinfoil hat theory about the assassin being Rashkta, he hadn't seen a trace of her. He thought the lady would've at least had the courtesy to show up. Maybe Aulocos knew.
"¿Habla español?" he asked the Jenrakian, "My English not so good."

Aulocos jeered his eyes behind his mask. “I do not speak Spanish, no.” With that, his voice increased in power, in magnitude, his rasping voice no more as a great roar of charismatic noise echoed from his hearth. “You are all here for one thing – Rashkta’s hand. But I have something else for you to go through, a test to see if you are loyal to Rashkta, and above all else, to the whims of the Tsellia. Rashkta is a Tsellian, and if you love Rashkta, you love the Tsellians.” Aulocos logically reasoned. “Thereby, for the hand of the lady of Rashkta, I give a task to you men – I will give you Rashkta’s hand, if you give me the shooter’s head.” The premise was simple.

Gahiji just smiled at that last comment. Looks like I have to watch her back, now. he said to himself in his mind. He relaxed on the wall next to the table. Waiting for the time to talk to Aulocos alone, without his enemies around him.