Classic-Castle Roleplay: July 2005

[Lord_Of_The_LEGO]

"Honoured guests," came the Emperor's voice, "let us bow our heads in a moment of reflective silence to thank the powers that be for the food, drink, and good cheer with which we are blessed."

All heads bowed respectfully in silence. After a half a minute or so, the Emperor raised his head, and again spoke.

"You may all be seated. Enjoy your meal."

Grid: J-10
Location: Orion

Viktor Okzskcarouldghf was quite uncomfortable. He was at one of the medium-sized tables bearing mostly Crusaders, sandwiched between the newly promoted Admiral Johnson and Captain O’Brien. He felt hot, out of place and very awkward.

Why did I ever let that tyco King Robert convince me to come to this tyco celebration? the Eastern Knight’s Kingdomer thought to himself as he fumbled for a fork.

Well, being an honored guest is a privilege. Think of it was a new adventure. he argued.

Some adventure. Which of the five forks do I eat with? Ooh, the peril, oooh, the intrigue, oooh, the suspense!

Stop it. This is a royal tyco ball for the Wooden Duck’s sake. I should be honored.

I am honored. That’s why I’m here. I’m here as King Robert’s honored guest for helping to save his precious daughter.

I am so cynical. Just enjoy the good food. Them maybe later I can slip away before the dancing starts.

Viktor ceased his internal debate and then began to chug down a glass of strong wine. While he drank, he suddenly saw a familiar face through the glass. Viktor nearly coughed and put down his glass.

Jaythus, Mathias, Santis, Danju, Rascus and Jayson entered the Dinner, each with their tickets presented.

"This is it lad," Santis whispered, "now enjoy yourself!"

"That, I will, Si- er Santis, that I will!" Jaythus answered.

“Rufusclaw!” called Viktor, then went red slightly when several snooty-looking guests looked his way.

The big red knight turned. His busy beard split into a grin.

“Why, isn’t it General Ozkuh -- General Okskerg -- General Ozcuru -- er, er, Viktor!”

[Lord_Of_The_LEGO]

Four hours later, the trio left Slacsentius Manor, finely garbed, in a carriage being driven by one of the servants. At the gates of the Yellow Castle they alighted, and headed for the banqueting hall.

"Give me your arm," Cate hissed at Adrian. Flustered, he did so, and they walked along, Adrian acutely aware of Hans' stare behind his back, and of the warmth of Cate's skin. At the top of the stairs before the banqueting hall, he presented two invitations to the steward, Julius.

"Lord Sicl, and Lady Slacs-Sicl?" he said, peering over his glasses at them. "I thought you were older..."

Cate laughed. "Shall we call someone over to prove our identity?" And without waiting for answer, she laughed, and gave Adrian's arm a tug, steering him onwards. "Come along, Henry dear." Julius pinched his lips as they went on, but said nothing. He turned to Hans.

"Master Archivist Lentawl?" he said, frowning as he read the description, but he smiled at Hans. "This should really have been turned in for someone else, Master Hans, since your father didn't want it." And with a slight pat, he pushed the young archivist forwards, and turned to the Ninjarians waiting behind him.

Hans tipped his gigantic hat slightly in thanks, then rushed onward, following behind Cate and Adrian. He was uncomfortably aware of his wet underarms. He was sweating like mad. Good thing he had lathered on that herbal deodorant Cate had bought him. Hans sighed, and looked back a old Juilius. Lucky break for Hans, that. Stern old Julius must have been in a good mood to let him through. Technically Hans wasn’t the Master Archiver, and since the invitation wasn’t for him, he should have been turned away. Ah well, one hurtle done.

Hans quickly caught up with Adrian and Cate, who were being led to one of the lower tables in the Hall. Their six dining companions were a couple of rather old, and wealthy, Classic noblemen, and the four delegates from the Bull Knights.

Hans, rather reluctantly, was led to the opposite side of the hall, where he was seated with seven very wealthy Classic merchants. As soon as the servant that had led him there left, he dashed over the table next to Cate and Adrian, and traded places with an egregious Crusader shipping magnate, who leapt at the opportunity to sit with the merchants.

After placing his mammoth hat aside as not to harm the others seated nearby,

Hans leant back, and bumped his chair into Cate's. Adrian and Cate both craned their necks to talk to him.

"Very fancy," Adrian noted. "Wonder what we're going to be served."

"I haven't been near the kitchens since you showed up," said Hans. "I haven't actually spent much time in the Castle at all. It'll be good though."

Adrian looked down Hans' new table, seeing who was there. Seated across from Hans was a very pretty young Classic noblewoman, with her mother. The rest of the table was filled with a bunch of elderly Classics and Royals. The girl winked at Hans, who didn't notice.

Adrian grinned. This could be fun.

Hans turned away from Cate and Adrian to do his own survey of his table companions, and received another wink from the pretty young noblewoman. Hans went red and smiled back. The girl blushed. The mother thankfully didn’t appear to be the stern type, and wasn’t even paying attention to the flirtations passing over the table.

At that moment

Julius came to the front of the assembled guests, and called for silence.

"Will you all please rise to welcome his Imperial Majesty, Constantius VII, Emperor of Legoland, King of Orion, Overlord of Dametreos."

The guests rose to their feet. Trumpets were sounded, and the Emperor appeared in the doorway, with an escort of twelve Cavaliers in dress uniform. They marched to the high table, where Constantius took his seat at its center, and the Cavaliers took up positions along the back wall.

"Honoured guests," came the Emperor's voice, "let us bow our heads in a moment of reflective silence to thank the powers that be for the food, drink, and good cheer with which we are blessed."

All heads bowed respectfully in silence. After a half a minute or so, the Emperor raised his head, and again spoke.

"You may all be seated. Enjoy your meal."

Steaming dished were brought forward and laid elegantly in front of the guests. The girl opposite Hans wrinkled her nose.

“Ugg…I hate snails.”

Hans, who had already taken a bite of a lumpy thing that he had thought was a dumpling coughed so hard his spectacles fell off and into his pea soup.

“Tyco!” he swore, and then, going really red, mumbled quickly, “Sorry.” Then, remembering his etiquette, his embellished, “Beg pardon for my foul language, milady.”

The young noblewoman nodded graciously and smiled.

“It is quite alright, good sir.” she said, winking again.

Hans fished his spectacles out of his soup and wiped them on his napkin.

“Are they really snails?” he asked, slipping his spectacles back onto his face with a push of his thumb.

The noblewoman laughed.

“Yes!”

Hans laughed a little, inwardly annoyed, then took up his fork again.

The young noblewoman offered, “I am Lady Monique DiVico. My father is Governor DiVico of Gadiusus Province.”

Hans had heard of the man in passing, but that was all.

“I’m Hans Lentawl, Junior Archiver of the Classic Archives. My father is the Master Archiver, Lee Lentawl.”

Monique fluttered his eyelashes.

“A scholar? You must be very smart…”

Hans went red, then heard a hysterical snort behind him. Adrian has just coughed pea soup onto his neighbor. Hans kicked Adrian from under his seat for good measure before returning to Monique.

“Well, not that smart…” said Hans.

“Is it very dusty, your work?”

“Well, not very much so…”

And so began a long discourse, where Monique asked dumb questions interspersed with flirty and flattering comments, while Hans alternately went red and answered her questions, getting more and more bored. Monique wasn’t exactly a bad companion, she just wasn’t exactly Hans’ “type”. Unfortunately, Monique didn’t seem to realize that, and apparently was getting more and more infatuated with Hans every minute. Hans was understandably getting very uncomfortable.

This had better happen to Adrian. He thought to himself.

[Lord_Of_The_LEGO]

Grid: J-10
Location: Orion (where else? )

Elbadar turned back to his plate and finished eating, but it was a large plate, and very rich. When finished, he leaned back and groaned:

"I think I have heartburn."

“I need a Tums.”

Caimlin looked at Elbadar with narrowed eyes.

“A what?”

Elbadar shifted and pulled something from his pocket.

“A Tums. Some potion that’s supposed to cure heartburn. I got a bottle of it years ago when that traveling techno-mage Taylor Road came to Dragonar.”

Caimlin nodded.

“I remember him. He gave me a little green stone. Useless thing. I gave it to Targon…”

The conversation between them died as Elbadar’s Tums began to do it’s magic and Caimlin scanned the crowd. Far across the room, arriving behind some garishly-colored Eastern Knight’s Kingdomers, two more Dragon Masters enter the dining hall.

“We be sorry we’re late,” said the taller of the two, handing their invitations over to Steward Julius, “We be just getting into Orion this afternoon.”

Julius scanned the invitations and nodded. “Welcome, Masters Ajaxx and Japheth.”

Julius returned the invitations and the two Dragon Masters pocketed them. Japheth whistled.

“Be quite a gig, this.” he said, his single eye scanning the crown.

“Aye.”

A trim purple-clan butler approached them and bowed.

“This way, sirs.” he said, and began to lead them to the Dragon Master table.

Halfway there Japheth halted.

“Tyco!” he swore.

“Keep up.” said Ajaxx calmly.

“Don’t ye see him?” hissed Japheth.

“Aye.” nodded Ajaxx, “I be expecting he be here.”

“This be not good!” growled Japheth.

“This be no worse than any other time.” replied Ajaxx.

By that time, they had reached the table. The butler pulled out the two remaining seats and Ajaxx and Japheth sat. Ajaxx nodded cordially at the person sitting across from him.

“Greetings, Lord Void.”

[Formendacil]

Grid: J-10
Location: The Banqueting Hall, in the Yellow Castle, Orion

This had better happen to Adrian. He thought to himself.

To Hans' irritation, however, it wasn't happening to Adrian. Not quite anyway.

Cate was having a grand old time playing the married couple, and Adrian couldn't contradict her without making both of them look extremely foolish. Which meant that Barbod, Gerrik, Jerral, and Rulph, the four Bulls at the table, were being treated to a show that Hans would have dearly loved to have seen.

"So, you two been married long?" asked Jerral, who was seated directly across from Cate.

"Almost a year, isn't it dear?" said Cate, gazing up at Adrian in an adoring fashion. Adrian managed, he thought, to avoid blushing.

"Ten months," he said, "in August."

"Pregnant yet?" asked Barbod, rather bluntly. Both Cate and Adrian blushed very noticeably, and Hans choked on his snails. Rulph, as the Bull ambassador was the most distinguished, kicked Barbod hard in the shins.

"What?" said the Bull King. "That's what people get married for. No shame in it. You had six little ones before you were my age." Rulph frowned at his twenty-fivish yearold king.

"Uh no..." said Adrian. "Not yet. We Classics tend to wait a little while..."

Hans totally missed what Monique was saying as he listened.

"Well, you should get on it," said Barbod, who was aware he was playing the country boar, and was enjoying it. "You've got a country to repopulate."

"Hmm, yes, dearest," said Cate, playing up to Barbod, and making Adrian even more sweaty and uncomfortable, "I do think a couple of little ones would be so sweet to have around. Dear old Elsie would love to have some young ones in the nursery again. Should we start on that tonight?"

Hans spewed a gobletful of wine right across the table and all over Monique's bosom. Adrian started to choke on his own snails, and the Bulls roared with laughter.

"It might be a good idea to let us take this little husband of yours in hand for a good long night in the pub," Jerral said to Cate. "He needs to be told a few things about the birds and the bees, it seems."

As the Bulls continued laughing, and Adrian gulped down a goblet of water, Hans was busy trying to apologise to Monique about the spewage. She seemed to accept his apology, but dashed off immediately with her mother to try and clean up.

"Oh, I rather like him the way he is," said Cate. "He says the most delicious things when we're alone."

I'll say, Adrian thought sarcastically, as his face went red again.

"That husband of yours sure goes red a lot," said Barbod. "A bit of a sheltered one?"

"I'm naturally red," said Adrian, "all the time."

"A drinker then," said Gerrik, with a wink and a wise nod to Cate. Hans had to start coughing to stifle his laughs. The elderly Classic couple beside him looked at him in askance.

"I suppose I do partake, now and then," said Adrian. "It's good for the constitution."

"Well said!" cried Barbod, who, sitting beside him, clapped him hard on the back. "That's why we Bulls have such hardy constitutions!"

The Bulls laughed, and Cate gave a little giggle.

"I guess you aren't drinking enough then," she said with a winsome look at Adrian, "because you seem dreadfully weak sometimes."

The Bulls laughed, Hans spluttered, and Adrian thought: Is this dinner never going to end?

[Lord_Of_The_LEGO]

Grid: J-10
Location: The Banqueting Hall, in the Yellow Castle, Orion

This had better happen to Adrian. He thought to himself.

To Hans' irritation, however, it wasn't happening to Adrian. Not quite anyway.

Cate was having a grand old time playing the married couple, and Adrian couldn't contradict her without making both of them look extremely foolish. Which meant that Barbod, Gerrik, Jerral, and Rulph, the four Bulls at the table, were being treated to a show that Hans would have dearly loved to have seen.

"So, you two been married long?" asked Jerral, who was seated directly across from Cate.

"Almost a year, isn't it dear?" said Cate, gazing up at Adrian in an adoring fashion. Adrian managed, he thought, to avoid blushing.

"Ten months," he said, "in August."

"Pregnant yet?" asked Barbod, rather bluntly. Both Cate and Adrian blushed very noticeably, and Hans choked on his snails. Rulph, as the Bull ambassador was the most distinguished, kicked Barbod hard in the shins.

"What?" said the Bull King. "That's what people get married for. No shame in it. You had six little ones before you were my age." Rulph frowned at his twenty-fivish yearold king.

"Uh no..." said Adrian. "Not yet. We Classics tend to wait a little while..."

Hans totally missed what Monique was saying as he listened.

"Well, you should get on it," said Barbod, who was aware he was playing the country boar, and was enjoying it. "You've got a country to repopulate."

"Hmm, yes, dearest," said Cate, playing up to Barbod, and making Adrian even more sweaty and uncomfortable, "I do think a couple of little ones would be so sweet to have around. Dear old Elsie would love to have some young ones in the nursery again. Should we start on that tonight?"

Hans spewed a gobletful of wine right across the table and all over Monique's bosom. Adrian started to choke on his own snails, and the Bulls roared with laughter.

"It might be a good idea to let us take this little husband of yours in hand for a good long night in the pub," Jerral said to Cate. "He needs to be told a few things about the birds and the bees, it seems."

As the Bulls continued laughing, and Adrian gulped down a goblet of water, Hans was busy trying to apologize to Monique about the spewage.

"Oh tyco!" Hans sputtered going his reddest yet, "I'm -- I'm -- oh, sorry!"

Monique was understandably surprised, but not angry.

"Ohh! Goodness!"

To Hans' intense embarrassment and to the disgruntlement of the antics of the noblewoman, Monique stood -- sending her chair tumbling backwards, and thrust her upper body forward over the table, jutting out her bosom.

"Quick!" she said, suddenly back in her flirtatious mood, "Wipe it off!"

"Er, er..."

Confronted, cornered and burning red, Hans was forced to do just that, wiping his napkin over Monique's chest, clearing it of most of the wine. The other occupants of the table sniffed disapprovingly. Monique sat back and wink again.

"Thanks, Hans." she giggled.

Hans sank deep into his chair, wishing his ordeal would end. But he had no such luck. Back at Adrian's table, Cate was saying:

"Oh, I rather like him the way he is," said Cate. "He says the most delicious things when we're alone."

I'll say, Adrian thought sarcastically, as his face went red again.

"That husband of yours sure goes red a lot," said Barbod. "A bit of a sheltered one?"

"I'm naturally red," said Adrian, "all the time."

"A drinker then," said Gerrik, with a wink and a wise nod to Cate. Hans had to start coughing to stifle his laughs. The elderly Classic couple beside him looked at him in askance.

"I suppose I do partake, now and then," said Adrian. "It's good for the constitution."

"Well said!" cried Barbod, who, sitting beside him, clapped him hard on the back. "That's why we Bulls have such hardy constitutions!"

The Bulls laughed, and Cate gave a little giggle.

"I guess you aren't drinking enough then," she said with a winsome look at Adrian, "because you seem dreadfully weak sometimes."

The Bulls laughed, Hans spluttered, and Adrian thought: Is this dinner never going to end?

Hans was thinking the same thing.

I would kill to disappear right now. he thought.

"Now really, mother, I am fine!" cried Monique, "The red wine blends perfectly with my crimson dress!"

Monique's mother tutted, and Monique said, "Oh, very well, then, mother!"

They both rose and left the table. Hans stared at his pea soup and tried to ignore the accusatory looks from his table neighbors.

"Are these seats taken?"

Hans looked up. Two young ladies, both heavily made up in makeup, winked and giggled at Hans before sitting.

Oh dear Chodan... moaned Hans, will this trial never end?

[Sir Drake]

Grid: J-10
Loc.: Orion

"Alright, can any of you youngsters see the table were Bjarn's supposed to sit, he said he would leave a place for us" Voolmark asked the others of the small group.
"I think he's over there" Radjar stated, nodding to the east of the hall.
"That's not him. According to me, he's over there" Aaylah said, nodding to the south of them.
"Excuse me. Voolmark?"
"Yes, what's the matter" the old wizard said when turning to see the man who called his name "oh, lord Bjarn"
"I was waiting for you to show up, what kept you so long?"
"Finding you, of course" Fraun replied.
"Anyway, follow me, I'll take you to your seats"

There were that many guests that, finding the way to their places, was like finding the exit of a maze. But finally, after ten minutes, they found their places. As they wanted to sit

Julius came to the front of the assembled guests, and called for silence.

"Will you all please rise to welcome his Imperial Majesty, Constantius VII, Emperor of Legoland, King of Orion, Overlord of Dametreos."

The guests rose to their feet. Trumpets were sounded, and the Emperor appeared in the doorway, with an escort of twelve Cavaliers in dress uniform. They marched to the high table, where Constantius took his seat at its center, and the Cavaliers took up positions along the back wall.

"Honoured guests," came the Emperor's voice, "let us bow our heads in a moment of reflective silence to thank the powers that be for the food, drink, and good cheer with which we are blessed."

All heads bowed respectfully in silence. After a half a minute or so, the Emperor raised his head, and again spoke.

"You may all be seated. Enjoy your meal."

"Tyco" Lhorn said "I just wanted to take a seat"

After the Emperor's small speech, they could take a seat.

[Sir Kohran]

Easily my longest CCRP post yet...

Jaythus, Mathias, Santis, Danju, Rascus and Jayson entered the Dinner, each with their tickets presented.

"This is it lad," Santis whispered, "now enjoy yourself!"

"That, I will, Si- er Santis, that I will!" Jaythus answered.

Grid: J-10
Location Orion Dinner Hall

Jaythus quickly departed from the Knights' Kingdom group, eager to explore the immense horde of visitors. However, his initial excitement was soon wearing off. Jaythus had no idea of what to do or who to talk to or what to do. He wandered about aimlessly, through the crowds of laughing, eating and drinking people. They completely ignored him, or worse, the snootier Classics gave his bright blue armour odd looks. Jaythus tried to avoid eye contact with them.

Soon he found a vacant seat at a table corner and started nibbling at a slice of apple pie. The food and drink arrayed on the plates before him was amazing: Smoking roasts, brown beer, cream-topped pastries, red and white wine, carrot cakes, red meat, golden pies, fruit juices, jam scones, roast beef...to name but a few. Jaythus quickly forgot his loneliness as he joined in with the other guests, eating and drinking with them all. When he had eaten his fill, and felt quite full, he sat back in his chair and watched the other guests. A few young Classics were flirting madly with eachother. Jaythus chukled inwardly at their antics. He had never really considered having a girlfriend of a wife before; all those years around papers and old men had dulled his snses. Laughing, he shoved that thought to the back of his head and watched the flirting, interested.

“Rufusclaw!” called Viktor, then went red slightly when several snooty-looking guests looked his way.

The big red knight turned. His busy beard split into a grin.

“Why, isn’t it General Ozkuh -- General Okskerg -- General Ozcuru -- er, er, Viktor!”

"It's been a very long time, Rufus!" Viktor replied.

"Aye, that it has," Santis answered.

"So, what's been happening lately?" Viktor asked, grabbing a small keg of beer.

"Oh, nought much. I've mainly been galloping around Morcia, and keeping young Jaythus over there out of trouble. And you?"

"Oh, all sorts. After I left Banteras, I met up with a tough girl, Rosa I think she was, quite good with a knife, and had a few adventures around with her."

"Did...anything, um, happen..." Santis murmured, trailing off.

"Chodan, no! Who d'you think I am?" Viktor burst out, in mock seriousness. "So, fancy a good old drinking game?"

"Ah, why not?" Santis answered, as he buried his face in a mug filled with frothing ale. Viktor grabbed his own bubbling cup from thhe edge of the table.

The two men were soon drunk, as they had both consumed over six glasses.

"Well, uh, whatdayaknow, there's a way outta there," Santis moaned, his eyes wandering vaguely over the scene.

"Hey, there, an Alendani, c'mon, fight like a man!" Viktor groaned, waving a half-full cup like a sword. Santis joined him in the imaginary fight. People stared in astonishment at them.

"Let's 'ave these cowards, uh, I can fight six of you!" Viktor droned.

The next day, as the ship was crossing the ocean, Solesstorn sat alone, on the back of the deck, enjoying the cool summer night air.

Yes, it was all coming together...

As soon as the ship arrived at the coast, Solesstorn wasted not ime in heading for Orion, leaving only a small bag of gold for James Dernack to find, as a token of thanks. Soon he had found a wild horse, that was running free in a pine grove and was crossing the plains that led towards the Yellow Castle.

Solesstorn had taken a liking to the horse, it was a dark grey buck with a shaggy mane and a firm body. It had been tricky to tame at first, but gradually Solesstorn had gotten the beast under control, though it denied him a saddle. In fact, Solesstorn was pretty sure that it wouldn't let any man saddle it. So he let the horse be.

One odd thing that he noticed was that the horse never cared about his left hand-the corrupted one. With other horses that he rode, they buckled in fear under the touch of his hand. Solesstorn had shuddered. It brought back unwanted memories.

After a two-day ride, Solesstorn arrived at the gates of Orion, right at the start of the trade fair. He was blown away by the majesty of the city and its castle. He soon found a stable for his horse, and entered the Yellow Castle for the Dinner.

When he discovered that an invitation was required to enter the Dinner, however, he had to resort to teleportation. Solesstorn never liked teleportation; it felt like cheating. However, he was prepared to forfeit just this once.

So he focused his will through his staff and moved himself to the main dinner hall of Orion. Immediately, he knew he was on time.

[Lord_Of_The_LEGO]

“Rufusclaw!” called Viktor, then went red slightly when several snooty-looking guests looked his way.

The big red knight turned. His busy beard split into a grin.

“Why, isn’t it General Ozkuh -- General Okskerg -- General Ozcuru -- er, er, Viktor!”

"It's been a very long time, Rufus!" Viktor replied.

"Aye, that it has," Santis answered.

"So, what's been happening lately?" Viktor asked, grabbing a small keg of beer.

"Oh, naught much. I've mainly been galloping around Morcia, and keeping young Jaythus over there out of trouble.

“And what’s been happening with you? Last I heard, you were kicked outta the army!”

Viktor scoffed.

“I was honorably discharged, Santis. You know King Matthias likes to rotate out the older brass for fresher blood every few years.”

Santis nodded in understanding. The Eastern Knight’s Kingdom policy didn’t affect the elite knights, but for the main bulk of the army all of the older captains and generals were ‘purged’ from the forces to make way for younger, stronger men. The reasoning behind this was that an army functioned better and more efficiently with younger, spryer recruits. Some argued older men should be kept for their wisdom and guidance, but they were always overridden.

“What you do after that?” asked Santis, supping his beer.

“Oh, I just about got myself killed -- several times. Then I was run off by Crusaders and forced to hide amongst pirates. Then I got mixed up in a tyco lot of trouble, and somehow, end the end, I wound up saving the Crusader princess!”

Santis whistled.

“You get all the fun.”

The two old friends sat and began retelling past adventures, embellishing them beyond recognition.

The two men were soon drunk, as they had both consumed over six glasses.

"Well, uh, whatdayaknow, there's a way outta there," Santis moaned, his eyes wandering vaguely over the scene.

"Hey, there, an Alendani, c'mon, fight like a man!" Viktor groaned, waving a half-full cup like a sword. Santis joined him in the imaginary fight. People stared in astonishment at them.

"Let's 'ave these cowards, uh, I can fight six of you!" Viktor droned.

Then he clutched his head.

“Ohh…had a mite too much to drink…”

“Waiter! Coffee! Good and shh shh -- shhrong!” bellowed Santis.

A miffed Classic waiter soon brought the two drunk “Rainbows” (as the waiter thought of them) two steaming mugs of coffee. Viktor and Santis then down it all, scalding their throats but easing their pounding heads.

[Lord_Of_The_LEGO]

“Don’t ye see him?” hissed Japheth.

“Aye.” nodded Ajaxx, “I be expecting he be here.”

“This be not good!” growled Japheth.

“This be no worse than any other time.” replied Ajaxx.

By that time, they had reached the table. The butler pulled out the two remaining seats and Ajaxx and Japheth sat. Ajaxx nodded cordially at the person sitting across from him.

“Greetings, Lord Void.”

Grid: J-10
Location: Orion

Lord Void returned the nod, his monocle flashing in the light. Inwardly, he was wracking his brain, trying to place the names of the two men who had just arrived. Their accent easily placed them as Boriasians, so…

“Greetings, Dragonsbane.” replied Lord Void, his thin hand reaching out and bring a champagne glass to his lips.

Ajaxx imitated the gesture.

“Governor Drock be kind enough to send two invitations to meself and Japheth.” Ajaxx said.

Lord Void nodded.

“So good of you to come. Travel far, did you both? It’s many, many leagues between Borianis Dracis and Orion.”

Japheth shifted uncomfortably and stuffed his mouth with food. Ajaxx replied dismissively, “I chartered a Royal merchant ship that be happening to be heading north. The timing be excellent, it was.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” said Lord Void dryly, again sipping at the wine. He hadn’t touched any of the food on his plate. Neither had Ajaxx. They both stared at one another calmly, politely but coolly. Japheth kept his single eye focused on his plate. Caimlin, sitting next to Lord Void, returned to talking with Elbadar. Oris Del Grakken was also eating like Japheth, but his eyes kept darting about like a rat’s, as if prepared to do something quickly. The silence dragged onward, until it was broken suddenly by the only non-Dragon Master sitting at the table.

“My God, dahling, this food is atrocious! Horrid! Ghastly!”

Ajaxx, Japheth, Elbadar and Oris Del Grakken turned to stare at the tiny Elsa Byrd.

“My architect,” introduced Lord Void lazily, “Elsa Byrd. She has designed me a new fortress.”

“The be good.” said Ajaxx, “The Dragons Masters have been too long without a proper capital.”

The way Ajaxx intoned the word ‘proper’ made Lord Void arch an eyebrow.

“Indeed.” he said.

Japheth continued to eat rapidly. Then he sat back and moaned.

“Here,” offered Elbadar, “Have a Tums. Works wonders.”

The quietly tense moment was broken.

[Lord_Of_The_LEGO]

Grid: J-10
Location: Orion

Reno Regga was feeling uncomfortable and out of place. Shainya had left him to seek out the nearest garderobe, leaving him sandwiched between Aaylah Jerlock and Lhorn Bloodseeker, two persons he certainly didn't want to be around. Surrounded by people whose interests were completely different from his own, Reno hastily excused himself and left the crowed table, to find himself a drink, preferably containing alcohol.

After dipping a ladle into a fruity-looking punch, Reno filled his glass and turned about, smacking hard into a big, brawny, bushy-bearded man.

The man grunted and Reno snapped, "Arg!" before they both caught sight of one another.

"Barbod!" cried Reno.

"Reno!" cried Barbod, and then they were pounding one another on the back.

Attracted by the commotion and just as eager to get away from his fellow Forestdwellers, Bjarn left his table and ambled over to them, grinning.

“Greetings, you two.”

“Bjarn!” Barbod roared, grinning wider.

“Hello, Barbod.”

The quiet greeting that came from behind the Bull King caused all three of them to go quiet. Barbod whirled around and bellowed, “YOU BLOODY FALCON!”

The Bull King grabbed the Black Falcon with beefy hands and crushed him ina bear hug. Several purple-cladCavaliers, thinking that they had a homicide-in-progress at hand, rushed forward. But Bjarn shooed them away and tapped Barbod on the shoulder, grinning.

“You’d better let Prime Minister Drakko go,” he chuckled, “Or the Black Falcons might just invade you again.”

Barbod released Drakko and stared at his long-lost friend. Drakko coughed and managed a smile.

“Long time, no see, Barbod. Glad that you regained your kingship at last.”

“And you!” cried Barbod, “Prime Minister!”

Drakko smiled.

“Well, looky here…”

Reno, Barbod, Bjarn and Drakko turned to see two men dressed in blacks and grays and browns approaching.

“Willem! Graygon!”

There were handshakes and back-pounding all around. Reno winked at Graygon.

“So you’ve opted to represent the Wolfpack at the Ball, eh?” he said.

Graygon winked back.

“At this moment.”

With a quick movement, he removed his outer jacket, flipped it inside out and put it back one. Now he displayed the blue and white colors of a Black Falcon. Reno whistled.

“Nifty.”

At that moment someone lightly punched Reno from behind. Reno whirl about and cried, “Aros!”

“The one, the only.” Aros grinned.

“What are you doing here?” demanded Willem.

Aros shrugged.

“Me and a few other buddies of mine did the city of Orion a great service, repelling the attack of some golems and gargoyles. The Emperor invited us personally to the ball.”

“Welcome, then!” said Graygon, laughing.

Then everyone looked at one another. Bjarn broke the silence.

“The Misfits…”

There was a bit of coughing. They all smiled, attempted to hold back tears of joy and remembrance. The Misfits had reunited.

[Dragoman]

Grid: J-10
Location: Orion

“Your invitation sir?” said the Steward, while glancing at the gentleman’s clothing which had just passed as proper attire for an event such as this.

“Ah yes, here you are good sir” replied Charles Augustine as he quickly poled the invitation from his pocket.

Looking over it briefly Julius then waved him in.

A little while after he was seated, Charles began to look about to hall and the many individuals who were now seated with him. He looked at each of them, wondering about their various stories amazed at the diversity of peoples who were in the same room as he.

When seven o'clock came, and virtually all the guests had assembled, Julius came to the front of the assembled guests, and called for silence.

"Will you all please rise to welcome his Imperial Majesty, Constantius VII, Emperor of Legoland, King of Orion, Overlord of Dametreos."

The guests rose to their feet. Trumpets were sounded, and the Emperor appeared in the doorway, with an escort of twelve Cavaliers in dress uniform. They marched to the high table, where Constantius took his seat at its centre, and the Cavaliers took up positions along the back wall.

"Honored guests," came the Emperor's voice, "let us bow our heads in a moment of reflective silence to thank the powers that be for the food, drink, and good cheer with which we are blessed."

All heads bowed respectfully in silence. After a half a minute or so, the Emperor raised his head, and again spoke.

"You may all be seated. Enjoy your meal."

Being famished from his journey, Charles did just that.

[Formendacil]

Grid: J-10
Location: Orion

Thomas and Sir Dractor were seated with a mixture of Black Falcons and Fright Knights.

"Pleased to meet you, Mr. Valt," the Batlord across from him was introducing himself. "I am Vækadær, senior Batlord of Envika Sorgoth. You are a Dark Forester?"

"Yes," said Thomas, a little bit uneasy at the figure in black and red across from him. "This is my first time away from the Fell Isle, since I was a kid."

"Interesting," said Vækadær. "And you are training under the great Sir Dractor. How is he doing?" Vækadær's attention turned to the big knight.

"Quite well," said Sir Dractor. "He has good coordination and is quick on his feet. It's only a matter of time."

"But, of course, he will hardly be another Sir Dractor," said Vækadær.

"Oh, he might," said Sir Dractor. "He might. But it would probably be better for him if he did not."

"Talent like yours- in any field- is quite rare," said Vækadær. "As I am aware myself. I too, have my own unique talents."

"Such as?" asked Sir Dractor.

"It would be verging on a state secret to say," said Vækadær with a slight smile. "And we wouldn't want that to happen."

"Of course not," said Sir Dractor. "That would be such a shame."

[TheOrk]

J-10 Orion

The noise in the banqet hall was deafening. It must have been years since the Emperor threw a party this big.

General Theodore soon was inthralled in a relatively boring conversation with a Count from the Batlands named Belzo or something like that. Valric didn’t mind not getting in the conversation. Taking a dagger in one hand and a fork in the other hand he tore ruthlessly into the ranks of the enemy.

Some nearby noble type folks stared in horror as he devoured a whole roast pig complete with a side of strangely cut potatoes called “fries”. Making a loud belch he gulped down a flask of fine old Black Knight wine and proceeded to rip a chicken limb from limb.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The merry sounds of the banqet could be heard throughout the Yellow Castle. For the occasion the Emperor had allowed the soldiers and man servants of the guests not on duty to have their own controlled party in an area of the grounds.

Kale sat in a dark shadowy corner populated with a number of the less civialized guests. The Dragon Masters, Fright Knights, Wolfpack and some drunken fools calling themselves Bulls sat around him.

They swapped a few wild tales of distorted rumors of the current events of in Dametreos. The one rumor that the least believed to be true was about some madman building something out of megablox. Kale didn’t laugh at that one. If Pythos wasn’t as nutty as BloodVaine then the Megablox had made sure he was worse.

Suddenly Kale felt a stabbing pain in himself. Everywhere. Groaning he stumbled out of the tent. He clutched his sides and head and stumbled away. He soon found himself at the grove of trees where Belzzar’s windships were set up.

Kale knew what the cause was. It was the megablox. The only time he ever had the pains before was when he drank the strength increasing megablox potion Pythos gave him. Gritting his teeth he decided to go for a walk.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Belching for the fourth and final time Valric stumbled to his feet. Theodore was still on his first course of the meal and still talking to Count Belzcul or whatever his name was.

Valric left the table narrowly avoiding the urge to puke his guts out. Maybe if he sparked a conversation with somebody it would take his mind of his stomache.

[Formendacil]

Grid: J-10
Location: The Yellow Castle, Orion

The dinner was over, the delectable desserts finally picked over. The Emperor rose to address the guests. A bell in the background signalled for their attention.

"Now that we have enjoyed this most delicious repast, I invite you all to make your way to the Grand Ballroom, where the Imperial Orchestra will strike up the first dance in precisely twenty-two minutes."

Cavaliers escorting him, Constantius departed the Banqueting Hall. As soon as he had left, the guests began to make their way out as well, to refresh or to go straight to the Ballroom. Twenty-two minutes later, most had regathered around the dancefloor in the large, high-ceilinged room. The east wall was open, great arches allowing for the inflow of fresh air from the terraced gardens.

The First dance began. The Emperor, widowed, did not lead it. Neither did his son, Crown Prince Clement, whose wife was absent. Instead, the opening dance was led by the newly-wed Viscout and Viscountess of Quoran: Bernard and Elwen Quorandis.

Soon the floor was covered in couples, elegantly circling the floor to the melodious sounds of the Imperial Orchestra.

[Lord_Of_The_LEGO]

Grid: J-10
Location: The Yellow Castle, Orion

The dinner was over, the delectable desserts finally picked over. The Emperor rose to address the guests. A bell in the background signaled for their attention.

Hans gratefully cut short his polite nothings with the two flirtatious (and air-headed, in Hans’ opinion) young noblewomen and turned about in his seat to look at the Emperor. Everyone else also broke off their conversations, including the reluctant Bulls, who had been guffawing at Adrian because of a suggestively sly comment Cate had made. Emperor Constantius stood and announced grandly,

"Now that we have enjoyed this most delicious repast, I invite you all to make your way to the Grand Ballroom, where the Imperial Orchestra will strike up the first dance in precisely twenty-two minutes."

Cavaliers escorting him, Constantius departed the Banqueting Hall. As soon as he had left, the guests began to make their way out as well, to refresh or to go straight to the Ballroom.

Luckily for Hans and Adrian, most of the young women hurried off to “refresh” themselves in womanly ways that are always an unfathomable mystery to all males. Among this exodus of females was Cate and Han’s two female acquaintances. As Hans fumbled with his mammoth hat, Adrian broke free of the Bulls, who were still winked and snorting, and tapped Hans on the shoulder. Hans grinned and tipped his hat elaborately,

“By my troth!” he exclaimed theatrically, “Dost thou wife be off?”

Adrian fingered his sword and glared.

“I’ve just about had it with this husband-wife business.” he grumbled, “I prefer my bachelorhood.”

“I’d so trade places with you any day, man.” exclaimed Hans, both of them now going with the crowd toward the Ballroom.

“No you wouldn’t.” Adrian firmly.

“Yes I would.” said Hans, “At least you’re ‘taken’. I’m, like, totally free, open, available! I haven’t been claimed yet, and therefore it’s in ev’ry gal’s interest to check me out!”

“I thought you were looking forward to mingling with the ladies.” Adrian nudged Hans. They were now in the Ballroom, watching the other guests mingle and the musicians prepare their instruments.

“I, er, was!” snapped Hans, ducking behind Adrian to avoid being seen by the newly cleaned-up Monique, “But I prefer girls with…er…”

“You prefer girls who have more than fluff in their heads, eh?” Adrian suggested.

Hans nodded, causing his hat to bobble dangerously.

“Aye. Totally. I like girls like…Cate…”

Hans went red and Adrian chuckled evilly. Hans punched Adrian lightly.

“Let’s see who’s laughing once the dancing starts, Mr. Slacs-Scl. Here comes your wife…”

Adrian turned swiftly to see Cate rushing toward them, her skirts hitched up, her face glowing.

“Adrian, Hans!” she caught up to them, “Isn’t this absolutely marvelous!”

“Aye.” nodded Hans. Adrian merely grunted.

At that moment the thrumming of cellos and violas filled the air.

The First dance began. The Emperor, widowed, did not lead it. Neither did his son, Crown Prince Clement, whose wife was absent. Instead, the opening dance was led by the newly-wed Viscount and Viscountess of Quoran: Bernard and Elwen Quorandis.

“Come one!” cried Cate, seized Adrian’s hand and literally dragging him out to the dance floor.

Hans chuckled.

“Good luck!” he called, and winked.

Adrian, looking like he would have preferred to remain at the dinner room and eat snails all night, grimaced before being swept away by Cate.

Soon the floor was covered in couples, elegantly circling the floor to the melodious sounds of the Imperial Orchestra.

Hiding underneath his hat, Hans managed to avoid Monique until she was grabbed up by handsome Knight’s Kingdomer. Eager to delay the prospect of dancing as long as possible, Hans made his way to a small bar of sorts where several men and woman where having drinks. Hans passed by two bearded Eastern Knights Kingdomers, one dressed in bright red armor, the other in Crusader garb, and took a glass. He leaned against the table and listened idly to the slurred chat of the Eastern Knights Kingdomers.

“I tellee…Viktor, ye should come with us. Ye know, me an’ Jaffon…Jeffsoon…Jaffuss…er…me young friend over there in the blue suit and purple helmet…”

“I might just…I might just do that…Santis…”

Someone tapped Hans’ shoulder. The teenager turned.

“Let me congratulate you on your fine choice of headgear.” a man bowed slightly, a Black Falcon with a huge moustache.

Hans nodded graciously, staring at the black and blue behemoth that sat atop the Black Falcon’s head. It was even bigger than Hans’, being a least three feet across from brim to brim. It was solid black, and a giant dyed feather at least as long as the hat was wide looped gracefully out of one side.

“You’ve got quite a kick-butt one too, dude.” said Hans, forgetting his ballroom speech.

The Black Falcon chuckled.

“Totally.”

Hans cocked his head slightly, surprised. He didn’t know some Black Falcons spoke the same way he did. The Black Falcon stuck out a hand.

“M’name’s Vanderdious Shiringtonbergville, yer gov’ner’ship.”

Hans shook Vanderdious’ hand firmly.

“Hans Lentawl, and I’m not a governor of anything.”

“Aha! But you are, lad, but you are!” exclaimed Vanderdious, raising a gloved hand winking jovially, “I’ve heard of the family Lentawl, young Hans. Bunch of scholars and whatnot, eh, laddie?”

“Yeah, that’s right,” said Hans, tried to get used to Vanderdious’ varying accent, “My Dad’s the Head Archiver at the Classic Archives.”

“And you’d you be, then, the Junior Archiver, eh?”

“Yup.”

“Jolly good!” chortled Vanderdious, “And can ye guess who I am, laddie?”

Hans was stumped. The man was dressed as a Black Falcon, but alternately spoke as a Classic, Royal and Crusader every other sentence.”

“Er…a duke?”

Vanderdious laughed.

“Nay, lad, nay. I be--” he said dramatically, “an actor!”

Vanderdious bowed with a flourish.

“Wow.” said Hans, slightly taken aback, “So that’s why you…er…speak funny…”

“Roight, then.” said Vanderdious, “Thar ye be roight.”

“How do you, er, speak normally?” asked Hans.

“Like this, Hans, yer gov’ner’ship.” said Vanderdious in a much more normal Black Falcon accent, “But these stuffy Classic types like to think more of one who has an impressively snooty accent.”

Vanderdious raised his nose high into the air and said,

“I say…sink me, good sir, but I’m nearly out of snuff.”

Vanderdious withdrew a small snuffbox from a pouch, put two small pinches of snuff on his wrist, and then breathed sharply, inhaling the snuff.

“Sink me.” he exclaimed again, twirling his moustache.

Hans laughed.

“That’s great!”

Vanderdious grinned and shed his Classic nobleman accent.

“Glad you like it, yer gov’ner’ship. Iffin ye be ever up at Falconis City, stop by to see a show!”

Vanderdious withdrew a card and handed it to Hans.

“’Til we meet again, your gov’ner’ship.”

Vanderdious bowed again, and left, off to impress more guests.