Reese is at the bar and has a mug of mead cradled her gloved hands. She looks over to Warrick. "We will be sure not to help you home then." She says, but her voice his gentle and she has a faint smile for him that touches her blue eyes. She seems to be in a somber mood.

Riagnon has joined the Wobbly Table.

2 Silvershields, 6 House Velenosa Guards, Sir Erron, Roger, Aurum arrive, following Mydas.

Reese puts Dazzler, a leaf-bladed short sword in a willow woven basket lined with petal pink wool.

Lydia turns about on her heels, looking about the establishment. Yes, there's the table she set aside with candles and a pair of Cassius' old boots, but aside from that it's just another night at The Spirits. "Come on everyone, this is a wake, not a funeral!" She forces a smile as the musician returns from his break and encourages him to start up a lively beat.

Ian sits in the back with a glass of whiskey. He's not advertising why he's here exactly. Maybe just to drink. But his intense eyes take in the goings on with interest.

Riagnon claims a seat, doing his best to wear a solemn expression. It's a struggle as bright smiles and goofy antics come so easily to him. At Lydia's suggestion to be more lively, he glances around with wide brown eyes to others in attendance in the hopes that one of them might lead the way. Also, he's keeping his hands firmly on his drink or clasped together to keep from fidgeting or worse.

Atila, Tempest arrive, following Signe.

Signe drops A wooden cask containing Nightgold's Stone Mountain White Whiskey.

Mydas is not smiling when he walks in, wake or funeral. But then, perhaps one shouldn't expect the Nightgold-turn-Acheron-turn-Velenosa to smile at the best of times. And this? This certainly doesn't count as the best. He arrives clad not in umbra, but in rubicund plate bearing the colours of House Velenosa, with a rather substantial entourage of guards. He's accompanied by Aurum, the great black beast glaring at the others present with eyes matched by its master. The prince nods his head in Lydia's direction, but otherwise says nothing. Maybe he's in a bad mood? Who can tell!

Reese looks over to Lydia, nodding ins response to her words, but she seems to be having a hard time with cheerfulness. Still she does smile, a somber smile. She looks over to Ian, giving the man a nod of greeting as he arrives. She peeks over to Riagnon, giving him a nod, but Reese doesn't seem to know him.

Sparte has come to pay his respects to Cassius, though he isn't sure how this is supposed to go - and it shows. He gives the hostess Lydia a nervous smile before approaching the table full of candles. The one with the boots. He rubs at one forearm for a few seconds while he stares at the table, not seeming sure what he should say or do. Eventually he lifts a hand to a press against his chest in a salute, before backing away to go find a place to sit at the bar.

Sigurd is here, to make an appearance certainly. But probably drink a lot of whiskey. His normal shout upon entrance doesn't happen, and he steps surely to approach Lydia. Because thats the person you greet first. "Duchess." Eyebrows furl and raise towards Mydas, brothernotbrother and his posse.

Sparte has joined the Bar.

Despite the reason for the occasion, Valerius Thrax doesn't seem particularly bothered. Entering the Spirits at a leisurely pace alongside Lianne, he's dressed in nothing out of the ordinary--Princely silks and a red jacket of the Inquisition. Even so, he wears a bright smile, anticipation clear on his features, as he settles in a spot near the door, at least for the moment. "I've decided tonight I'm going to celebrate the dour idiot how /I/ think we should," he starts aside to his companion as he scopes out the familiar bar, "If we did it how he would, we'd just stand in a corner all night frowning, and I'm quite certain he'd tell us all to shut up and get on with our lives if we saw us doing this." There's a pause, eagerness washing over him as he tilts his head towards the bar, "So let's drink?"

Lydia passes by Ian's table, "I see you found something already." Her dress moves about her calves as she makes her way, "Lord Riagnon, it is very good to see you!" She spots his iron grip on his beverage, "I see you are taken care of." A sound at the door and she turns and looks up to find herself face-to-face with her cousin, Mydas. "M-Mydas...!" She flushes, and is left at a temporary loss for words.

Harlen arrives, following Duarte.

Reese has one of her gentle and somber smiles for Sparte as he joins the bar. "Hi Master Sparte." She then looks over to Valerius, giving him a nod. "Yeah....he used to have so much advice for me. He would probably say to stop sulking, maybe. But is hard for me to know what he would say. It was always very wise and not always what I would expect."

"Thrax," Ian says to Lydia, by way of explanation. Of course he's already drinking. He was probably drinking before he got here.


Rosalind left for a bit, likely to get cleaned up. When she returns, it's in a dress and with a smile upon her lips. Red hair is braided and looped atop her head, a few flowers finding their way into the locks. Pausing, she looks about, then heads further into the tavern, nodding to a few she knows, taking up a glass of whiskey whenever she finds some to drink.

Pasquale is here for the wake. He comes walking in with Lianne and Valerius, dressed in dark silks for his part. Expression grave, green eyes bright and watchful as he takes in the room and those gathered in it. His "Mmm" at the prospect of Northern drinking is less than buoyant, but to it he goes.

Lydia turns suddenly as Valerius speaks. She is all in support of the levity, and manages to choke out a "Here here!" To Mydas she asks, "Can I get you something? Or did you bring some of that rotgut you tried to pass off last time?" She manages to hang onto her own smile, and offers it to Ian briefly before tearing her eyes away.

"Lydia." The tone is polite, even familiar, and while it is not especially warm, neither does it bear biting cold. "You've done well preparing his Wake." he compliments, while his gaze moves to cover the entire room, pausing on Sigurd, nodding once. And then Valerius, recognized, if not officially met just yet. Not since the wedding. And then back to his cousin. "Don't let me hold you up, plenty of guests to greet, I fear."

Signe hurriedly appears from the back while brushing whatever may have been collected onto her hands. As the gathering swelled she witnessed her cousin tend to the greetings of others then. In her passing by of Lydia the young shaman gently touches her shoulder on her way to meet up with her brother Sigurd. She'll stand beside one of Nightgold's lords and casually whisper to him.

"If we're still standing when the night's done, I'll take you back to where I used to drink with him," Lianne answers with a nod for Valerius' suggestion. The marquessa--and last standing Voice of House Pravus now that its Duke is dead--wears an awfully easy smile for the occasion, though she's dressed all in black. Really, she's often in black, and that plunging neckline fits with her usual style, nothing out of the ordinary for the occasion. There are sleeves, though, the weather growing far colder than the Lycene would like. She smiles to Lydia, to Mydas, to Signe. Even to Sigurd, though he gets a longer look.

Celeste, the realist messenger arrives, following Percephon.

Lydia's attention is easily caught by Marquessa Lianne. The color drains from Lydia's face, and in an instant the girl is white as a sheet. But the Marquessa offers her a smile, and her complexion slowly returns, her momentarily horrified expression becoming one of some confusion.

"No. Much as I'm sure Cassius would dislike the company, I'd rather not see any of the guests die from Foolsbane." answers Mydas to Lydia, with questionable humour. Or none at all, for indeed he could be entirely serious. He then moves further into the room, quite happy with being the resident Cassius and spend the whole time stern-faced in his corner. Perhaps it's his contribution to the Wake? Still, upon Lianne's arrival, he nods towards her, but makes no move to step into her conversation with Valerius.

As his cousin passes by to greet those in attendance, Riagnon offers Lydia a faint smile that soon grows into a dumb, lopsided one. His posture and the rest of him perks up briefly until her attentions move on elsewhere -- at which point he relaxes once more. Mydas's appearance does elicit a glimmer of interest from the Acheron lord, but he certainly doesn't appear surprised. Oh, right! He goes back to trying to be serious and glum.

Valerius grins broadly at the prospect Lianne proposes, his head dipping down in an agreeable nod before he breaks away from her and Pasquale to make his way to the bar, a trio of drinks to be obtained. Upon spotting Mydas, however, he stops, a rather exploratory look overtaking him, but for the moment he leaves the man be. Instead he pauses by Reese, one hand moving to press to her shoulder in passing, "Like you said, he'd tell us to stop sulking, so stop sulking. I'm gonna get a drink, Princess, and you should join us and have a few shots. It's impossible to look back on the bastard without anything but fondness, so get to it. There's lots of stories to tell by the night's end, I'm sure of it."

Reese seems happy to get a drink with Valerius, but after she gets such, she falls into this somber silence. Maybe she will talk more later!

Reese has left the Bar.

1 Grayson Guardsmen have been dismissed.

Peaches, a lovely white war filly with a peach saddle have been dismissed.

Deliverance, an albino falcon have been dismissed.

Stormy, a silvery gray hunting hound have been dismissed.

Rascal, a hyper terrier have been dismissed.

Rosalie, a lady in waiting have been dismissed.

The Halfshav lord enters, pallid and weary, although it could be blamed on too-much work and not-enough sleep. Also, it ought to be noted that the dark colors he favors do him very little favor. A pale, ink-stained hand lifts to card through mussed auburn curls, dark eyes peering over the rims of his spectacles as he takes a look around -- considering -- attempting to take a read on the audience before he dips a shallow bow. Hands tucking behind his back, Percephon murmurs, dry: "All and sundry. Whiskey, is it? If there's tea to take it in, that is."

Duarte slows his brisk stride when he enters and his insouciant air sombers just a touch in recognition of the event - but not too much so. He passes off some silent greetings as a courtesy while moving to the make-shift memorial where he offers a few moments of silent regard for his fallen friend. Once done it's to the bar with him. "A character as strong as anything produced by a Stonedeep forge," Duarte offers in remembrance before placing a silent order for whiskey.

Lydia seems about to crack. "Mydas!? Would Cassius really have disliked us so much for ... for ... for f*ing [a swear word Lydia never, ever uses but is so eminently northern in character] coming together because we miss him already?" She looks confused, and half-heartbroken.

Percephon has joined the Bar.

Lianne doesn't follow Valerius directly, though she does smile after him, approving and fond. No, it's best that she begin with addressing that horrified look from Lydia, approaching the duchess directly, her smile unwavering. "He was family to us both, and I believe you, having known him your entire life, rather have the stronger claim." Ah, there the smile falters, lips pressed into a thoughtful line. "For all that I was irritated with the empty sentiments in the whites, I do believe that we see to our own mourning, however we see fit. And this is fitting, to get those of us who loved him together. Thank you for this."

Sigurd glances between Liane and Lydia once or twice. Of course its a thing he doesn't know anything about, and it certainly isn't new. A slow nod towards Mydas, and Sigurd moves briefly to acquire a glass of whiskey, and returns to Signe arrival. Little sister gets a huge smile. "Hello." Mutterings being exchanged.

Ian finishes his drink in a shot. "He'd have been pretty pissed off about his name being kicked around for some kind of bullshit emotional politics," he remarks in a dry voice. Unlike Lydia, Ian's just fine with swearing; he does it with unaccentuated aplomb. There's something humor-adjacent in his voice, but it's not gentle laughing with you humor. "I don't know how northern wakes are done. Am I the only one with a story to tell?"


Rosalind downs the whiskey after a silent toast to the fallen man. As more gather within the tavern, she looks about, not knowing many within by this point. Edging towards the entrance, she bids her time, and after a while, steps out as someone else enters.

Mydas stops in his movement when Lydia reacts, the armoured man tilting his head to the side slightly, as if in contemplation of the question asked. "A rather difficult answer to give. Would he wish death and for others to join him on the wheel, or would he rather be left alone and see all live?" He turns then, to face his heartbroken cousin, and his voice softens. "He would hate hated the Wake, for the time wasted out of everyone, for the gestures that would bear no practical meaning to a man already gone back to the Wheel who could never even know what was said and done here tonight. He'd hate it, because he never put much faith in his own life. He'd see it as a waste, because he never valued himself enough. Your sorrow at his loss would ill-fit him, because it is not how he saw himself, how he thought others should see him. So no, Lydia. I think he'd have hated this. And I think he deserved nothing less than what you've prepared for him."

6 House Velenosa Guards, Ibasia, the Velenosa Lady-in-Waiting arrive, following Jaenelle.

"Thank you," Pasquale mutters to Valerius as he goes off to obtain drinks. Whatever his enthusiam for Northern spirits, he's happy to have the ordering done by someone else. He finds a convenient place to lean and track the remarks about Cassius, and the relative suitability of his mourning. As if trying to find his balance in the midst of it.

Once at the bar, Valerius acquires those three drinks--along with a trio of other shots that he just. Does. They're downed with efficiency and practice, a motion he's surely perfected at this point. Regardless, he turns about to approach Lianne, his drinks offered to her and Pasquale as well. "One of my favorite things about Cassius," the Prince starts, to Lydia and Mydas in particular, "Was that when you wanted to do something he wouldn't agree with, your best option was to just do it anyway. He'd forgiven me for putting in quite a few precarious positions, because that was the kind of man he was." He pauses for a beat, adding with a more serious enthusiasm after, "Frankly, it's probably /because/ he'd hate this so much that we /have/ to do it. One last precarious position to put him in, even after it's all done."

Lydia sniffles, and takes a deep slow breath and straightens her shoulders carefully. "Ian is right." Moving from her cousin's explanation for the moment she listens to Valerius. Then she turns to look admiringly at Ian, "Please, share you story, too. That is what this night is for."

Duarte chimes in, holding his glass with both hands. "Yes, Duchess. He would abhor it, truly..." a beat, "...for about 15 minutes, as he drank, and then he would enjoy it entirely as the night wore on." He considers that a moment, "I know he would, however, find humor and be tickled at the notion that his loved ones (or the ones who loved him, I should say. I make no claims to know just who he loved) should gather, and then instantly bicker about just how to pay him proper regards. So if /that/ is the true intention of this, then I believe it is quite fitting indeed." He smiles and eases on to the bar. "Though I did not know the stoic and staid soldier of faith I keep hearing about. I knew a merry making man with a dry wit that could cut you in half and I'm almost certain many claims about his severe mien are merely those wry moments flying over some heads. I also knew him as a particularly talented author and a fabulous kisser." He takes a sip from his whiskey glass.

Signe wore a small smile, sombered by the mood. "Hi Sigurd." She nudged at him with a gentle elbow before her gaze wandered over all that had gathered. The shaman listened as Mydas spoke, sharing his thoughts of whether Cassius approved or not. Whatever her thoughts the Lady Nightgold gave a tug to her brother's arm to encourage him to mingle with the others. "Let's get you a drink. Oh and there's Vala Khanne's husband. We should steal this moment while it is here. Come on Sigurd."

Taking a seat at the bar, Percephon pours a little bit of whiskey from the shot that's ordered into his cup of strong black tea. He offers a grateful glance to the individual behind the bar before he turns away, settling there. Taking small sips from his fortified brew until the ruddy color of good health returns to his cheeks. Staying quiet, more as he continues to observe and listen. "I new of him -- not directly -- not as familiarly as my lady Khanne did. I attend in her place, this evening, although I do wish I had the appropriate stories to tell to honor Cassius with."

Listening to Duarte, Lydia nods emphatically, "Yes, yes, that's who I remember!" Lydia starts to move again, taking shots from the bar and passing them around to anyone with an empty hand to hold one as she soaks up the remembrances.

"I rather liked his discipline, myself. His straightforwardness. He was a man to be counted upon, no matter how dire the situation, no matter if it was your own fault to be there in the first place. Not one likely to let you forget, however." Mydas remarks to Valerius, as the discussion wanders. "You had many run-ins with him then, Prince Valerius?" he asks, his attention for now upon the Thraxian prince.

Lianne tips a nod toward Ian for his first words, smile skewing ever so slightly to the left for his talk of stories. She's surely got a few. When Valerius approaches with that drink, she accepts without hesitation. His words, though? Those are met with skepticism. A little shred of that uncertainty is angled toward Mydas as well, but most of it lays squarely on the Thraxian prince. "I believe your relationship with him was far different than mine. Did I tell you about the time he almost killed me?" She's not going to start with that story, it would seem. No, she's going for her drink instead. Her attention flickers toward Duarte only at the mention of what a fine kisser Cassius had been, humor glinting in her eyes.

Ian lifts his glass in the general direction of the bar in the universal drunk sign for 'more booze'. "So the first time I met him was right after he got married to Duchess Belladonna. She was having some kind of event -- a people scavenger hunt? I didn't play, so I don't know the details, but I think you had a list of things, and you needed to find people who matched them. Stuff like 'born at sea' or 'owns at least three dogs'. I got the sense that he hadn't been in Arx for long -- or at least he hadn't mixed very much. He didn't know anyone. He showed up at the Queensrest Inn with a card that wasn't filled out at all, and no idea how to start, and that man was desperate not to disappoint his wife. I don't know if it was love or fear." He pauses, thinks about it. "Well -- probably at least a little of it was fear. Anyway -- I helped him out. And he repaid me a couple of weeks later when I managed to piss off Duchess Belladonna somehow. ... This is why I'm hoping one of the rest of you has a story, because most of mine are either this, or drinking at the training center and sparring drunk."

"Lianne, my dog almost killed you once. It's just on par with the course where you're concerned." Mydas remarks dryly to Lianne, a slight tug of his lips hinting at a smirk.

When Jaenelle arrives to the familiar bar, she stands by the door for a moment to scan the room and judge the mood. Her brother is noted, a smile given to the younger Thraxian before her attention rests on Lianne. A dip of her head is given to the woman and her attention continues. Her blue eyes fall to Mydas, and it is there she moves and his side she finds herself standing beside. She slips her hand comfortable through his arm without word.

Riagnon nearly chokes on his drink on his drink at Lianne's mention of nearly being dispatched of. He recovers just barely, bringing up the back of his hand to conceal any liquor that might have shot out of his nose. Nothing to see here.

Tempest have been dismissed.

Atila have been dismissed.

"Drinks, yes please." Sigurd nods quick to Signe's 'offer'. He'll filter through the people with Signe back towards another drink, his empty glass left behind on some table. Between people and towards Percephon and his inky fingertips. "Pardon me, Lord Halfshav. I think I'm supposed to share a drink with you."

Lydia claims one of the spare bottles of Nightgold whiskey and brings it eagerly to Ian's table. Her eyes go wide at Lianne's claim of mortal danger and she actually chuckles at Mydas's retort. With people starting to open up, she does her best to stay out of the conversational way and help the staff keep the social lubricant flowing.

Signe is overheard praising Ian for: For remembering Cassius and sharing his story!

Lydia is overheard praising Valerius for: For remembering Cassius and sharing his story!

Lydia is overheard praising Ian for: For remembering Cassius and sharing his story!

Signe is overheard praising Duarte for: Remembering Cassius and sharing his story!

Ian lifts his glass in silent thanks to Lydia and takes a drink.

Lydia is overheard praising Signe for: For helping me with arranging Cassius' wake!

Lydia is overheard praising Duarte for: For remembering Cassius and sharing his story!

Sigurd is overheard praising Mydas for: For insight

Ian is overheard praising Lydia for: For getting us drunk, as is right and good.

The question Mydas poses to Valerius has the Prince pausing for a moment, the glass in his hand held firmly against his chest as he idly taps his index finger against the rim. Just in time for Ian's story to start, it seems, an appreciated reprieve as the Thraxian man holds his silence. Once it's done, however, he turns back to the Velenosian--and Jaenelle, who gets a fond smile. "Cassius wasn't my brother by blood," he eventually decides, his tongue poking lightly against the inside of his cheek that gives way to a fond, if melancholic, smile, "But he was my brother. The second time I met him I threw a chair as his head--and I think the lovely idiot liked me more for it. He was family."

Lydia is overheard praising Mydas for: Still my cousin, whatever circumstances are.

Signe is overheard praising Valerius for: Remembering Cassius as the kind of man he was!

Pasquale takes his drink from Valerius, nosing it skeptically rather than sipping it immediately. "I cannot say I knew the man, for my part. A thing I regret, given how large a presence he plainly was. I am a sworn vassal to House Pravus now, though, and he was my Duke. And so, I come to know him by those who did." Lianne and Mydas' exchange prompts a loft of his brows, and finally drink.

Lydia is overheard praising Pasquale for: For loyalty, and being with us as we celebrate a life.

Lianne tsks quietly at Mydas, though her smile's decidedly grown. "Aurum would never," she asserts with convincing certainty. Even as she creeps just a smidge closer to Valerius, handsome and handy meatshield, while eyeing the dog with just enough wariness to belie that confidence. With a lift of her drink toward Ian, she assures, "He'd been here quite some time already," plainly remembering that game and its timing. Jaenelle, as she slips in so quietly, gets a warm smile and an incline of her head. And a lift of her glass, a small drink taken for the new couple, aside from the whole wake thing. When Valerius mentions how that second meeting with the departed duke went down, her brows arch high, plainly curious, but there's something in her smile which says, yes, that's the Cassius she knew. Some of that warmth, then, is turned toward Pasquale, gratitude in her expression. "He is, in part, the architect of our house." But it seems that, too, might be a tale for another time.

Signe is overheard praising Lianne for: For surviving Cassius!

Lydia is overheard praising Lianne for: For bringing comfort when it was needed.

Aurum stares back at Lianne. And slowly opens his jaws to let out a low growl. That's how he says hello. "And where did you come from?" Mydas asks his wife Jaenelle as she slips in, and he finds her upon his arm. "As good a time as any to meet most of my Nightgold family." he remarks, though his attention shifts to Valerius before he can begin proper introductions. "That sounds like Cassius, yes. He was just the kind of man to appreciate a chair to the face." he remarks dryly, before his gaze shifts to the others in the room. "Is that... Riagnon?" he asks to no one in particular as the gold eyes rest upon the young man. "And when did you join your sister, cousin?" is asked, deep voice easily cutting through conversation to reach the young Acheron.

Signe's near the bar with Percphon and Sigurd after encouraging him to wet his pallet. She listens as all others speak of their departed kin. And loudly she proclaimed, "Cassius could be a downright asshole, a funny asshole! But he was OUR asshole who loved his family unconditionally no matter how much he disapproved of our choices. His son Valkeri lives on to carry the spirit of fallen kin. He lived courage, he believed in his faith of the Sentinel. The Knights of Solace lost a great man. A great brother who will never be forgotten. From the depths come courage!"

"And you assume that I do not know everyone in the city already" Jaenelle easily tells Mydas, her smile turned upward as she tilts her head to look at his face. Her rather friendly demeanor is certainly offsetting with her husband's...not. "Though please, I would be honored to have you introduce me to them. My brother has said he sent you a messenger, shall I also have to do the same in return and make proper introductions? I do not believe he will offer the same sort of greeting that Galen did, so you might be safe. We'd not wish to upstage Cassius on this lovely day of rememberance with your death by flaying."

Lydia is overheard praising Jaenelle for: For wearing the pants in her cousin's household.

"There we go!" Valerius offers in response to Signe's words, his glass raised and held and drained in the span of a few seconds. Which, unfortunately, leaves him with an empty glass, something that must be rectified immediately. "I'm going to grab an--three or four more shots. Actually, I'll just get a bottle. I've catching up to do." As he shifts to move, he pauses to listen to Jaenelle's words to Mydas, the whole thing drawing forth a cheeky little grin that lingers even as he reaches out to clasp his new brother-in-law's arm firmly. "I'm not going to threaten to /seriously/ hurt you like Galen," he insists as he begins to move, "But do remember that if she says one bad thing, I'll pick you up and throw you across a room. No pressure!" And with that, a bottle is procured.

Lydia whispers aside to Mydas, "You knew the job was dangerous when you took it." She grins unreservedly for perhaps the first time this evening.

Pasquale casts a look over at Riagnon. To where the man is politely listening, or whatever it is he's doing. He raises his drink in the fellow's general direction and semi-toasts. Before sipping again, and wincing. "Did you...know Duke Cassius?" he asks, in an attempt to make polite conversation, even if his brows remain arched a touch in what might be skepticism at the fellow.

"A little after you joined yours, I imagine?" Riagnon glances up to Mydas with a wide faux-innocent blink that soon gives way to the rascally, crooked smile that's characteristic of him. "I was rather hoping she'd follow suit, but it hasn't happened yet," he offers in jest. The knightling's laughter sees him rocking back his chair onto just two legs... and of course, just about almost falling right over. "Cousins," is the young lord's answer to Pasquale as he throws out both arms and flails a bit for balance.

"Of course." Mydas answers, utterly unfazed at the idea of being thrown around. "And the same to you if she does." Is said to Valerius as rubicund gauntlet clasps his arm, about another woman. "Though I'll have to be more creative than throwing you around a room." He even smiles. And then his attention shifts to Jaenelle. "Mm, no, I wouldn't wish for you to waste your time when you already know everyone. It would be utterly against Cassius' spirit." he smirks.

"And how have you taken to your new home?" Mydas further asks of Riagnon, some amusement showing in his eyes at the reply. "Have you had time to visit Aviaron's Peak as well yet?"

Lianne makes a point of finishing her drink as Valerius moves off to go get that bottle, rather intending to enjoy a refill, a rarity for a woman who drinks sip by sparing sip over the course of the night, seldom finishing half a glass of anything. Her verdant attention scans the room, watching Riagnon, sudden center of attention, as he laughs, before moving on to the pair nearer to Signe. Casting a look between Sigurd and Percephon, she speaks up and says, "I've been trying to recall a proper /story/ I might have to share about Cassius that isn't awful, and none come to mind. Not only was the trip the four of us took up into the mountains terrible with all that snow that wouldn't stop falling, all that /death/ we found when we got there, but there's very little /pleasant/ to be said about an entire disappearing village." Let's hope her glass has been refilled by now because she means to lift it in toast. "No one's ever drawn me into as much awfulness as Cassius did, and I loved him for it. For what he saw in me to drag me along." It's a sentiment that deserves a drink.

"He gave people room to fall on their faces," Ian remarks to Lianne; his tone indicates that this, for him, is something to be emulated and admired. "He didn't hesitate to spar with me, even before he'd seen me fight. Took me at my word that I could handle it. I can probably count on one hand the number of people that's true for."

Jaenelle laughs as she overhears the praise spoken by Lydia, her nose wrinkling in amusement. "We are equal, unfortunately" she says as if this very thing is disappointing. "He is my better half and partner, truly, and he knows full well just as dangerous it would be for him to hurt me, ir would be equally as dangerous for anyone else to wish to hurt him." Her tone is sweet, that same smile never faultering. A casual glance is given back towards Mydas as if she werent just speaking of him, "as you wish, Ettore, though I do not know that man. I am sure I have never met that one either." She points towards Riagnon and Sigurd. "Would you ruin my night by failing to do as you originally said you would?"

Signe's unchaining herself from the bar after grabbing a glass for herself to nurse very slowly. Before a sip was taken she raised the clear contents following Lianne's shared memory. "The thrill excites us all Marquessa Lianne! I just wish I had been there." Signe commented.

Lydia continues her rounds, in apparently much better spirits. She continues to refill and distribute the whiskey where it is wanted and listen to the banter. Cassius brought these people together, and that's enough for tonight, for her. Lydia isn't the most extroverted person and seems happy to let the room become whatever it will. At one point, she's left with an extra shot in hand and with nobody laying claim on it, she knocks it back herself and slams the empty upside down on the bar with an "ah!"

"I don't," Valerius says in response to Signe as he moves to settle back in besides Lianne, that bottle procured immediately used to fill her glass, "Cassius was constantly surrounded by dangerous--everything. And he had to work so /hard/ to find it, too. I'm sure it's a thing to be emulated, but Gods am I glad I only got to see him in, well, calmer circumstances, I suppose." He pauses a moment, the bottle in his hand given a thorough look-over before he lifts it to his lips and takes a long pull directly from its head. The action serves to bring out a kind of awkwardness, and despite himself--and the mild inebriation he's currently experiencing--he steals a few glances aside towards Jaenelle whenever he moves to take another sip. Eventually, he just calls out to her from over the bar, "Sister, you're making me nervous. At least tell me you're not going to try and take my whiskey away."

Lydia is overheard praising Riagnon for: Acheron, represent!

"Princess Jaenelle Velenosa, may I present to you Lord Riagnon Acheron, brother to the current Marquessa, and a cousin of mine, relatively recently arrived to Arx." he indicates Riagnon. "And in turn, might I present the man I've called my brother for most of my life, Lord Sigurd Nightgold. The young lady with him is Lady Signe Nightgold. Both my siblings, in spirit if not in blood and name." he goes on to introduce. "And of course, Duchess Lydia Nightgold, currently making the rounds, my cousin." he keeps on going. "That should get you started for a while, I believe."

Lydia is overheard praising Sigurd for: For keeping up with current events!

Mydas is overheard praising Lydia for: It's a Wake!

"Yes," Lianne is quick to answer on the wake of Ian's words, her smile gone for the first time tonight. She's serious in this, wholly sincere. "Room to fall and room to rise. He took us as we were." Her brow knits, a perplexed look angled toward Signe, and she reiterates, "It was awful," to emphasize that it was not, by her measure, thrilling. Didn't she mention the snow? She slips her hand about Valerius' elbow and draws in closer than she probably should, letting her smile resituate itself after another drink. With a tilt of her head toward him, she murmurs something soft.

Sparte is overheard praising Lydia for: For letting us gather and remember Cassius

Pasquale side steps another few inches from Riagnon, while the man is flailing. "Ah. Your kin seem like very staunch folk, my lord." A polite dip of his chin is offered to the Nightgolds as they're introduced in turn.

In comes the giant form of Sir Jeffeth Bayweather. Frowning lightly as he enters. The behemoth looks around at those gathered, looking a bit somber for the occasion. When his eyes alight on Jaenelle, the big man immediately is heading over towards her side. A deep bow is given to Jaenelle, then Mydas. "Your Highness. Your Highness."

Lydia returns when summoned to curtsy before the Princess Velenosa, "A pleasure to finally meet you. I am so sorry I missed your wedding."

Center of a attention?! Bring it on. Settling his chair back onto all four legs, Riagnon shifts his weight with playful bounce before taking another swig from this tankard. "Well met, your highness. Notoriously silly person, here. I apologize in advance," he offers of himself with a hand to the heart for Jaenelle's benefit. He bobbles his head some to Pasquale, eyes bulging theatrically for loss of a better response than: "Quite."

Lianne is overheard praising Lydia for: To be clear: Pravus supports Nightgold in its remembrance of our duke and your brother.

Brother? Sigurd glances up from where he hide his face in a whiskey glass and offers a broad smile towards...Towards Princess Jaenelle. "I still call the man brother. He is stuck with me." His hand offers out towards Jaenelle. "I'm the blunt one. Signe is the cute one. Mydas is...Well, Mydas is everything else."

Lydia laughs!

"I do know Duchess Lydia, we met when Nadia decided to gather a few women for a spa day and I was beaten with a rod" Jaenelle remembers. Who would not remember when Lydia beat you with a rod? "It is no trouble, Duchess, I do hope perhaps you will come to the reception being held in a few days time" she says when the woman in question reappears. "That is when the more amusing parts of any wedding happen after all." An incline of her head is offered towards Riagnon, "silly is something I value above most. It shows imagination and flexibility in all situations." Sigurd is greeted next in turn, a dip of her head, "he certainly is. You each have your positons within the family much as my siblings and I have ours. We assist where one faulters and those are tremendous advantages. Valerius I would never, but do not drink that whole thing" she tells her own brother without glancing at him as she just knows the bottle is at his lips.

Riagnon puffs out his little birdlike chest, side-eyeing his cousins pretty hard. Cause he's imaginative and flexible in all situations. They better have all heard that!

Jaenelle's eyes lift upward as a shadow appears to cover her small frame, "Sir Bayweather. Aren't you a handsome creature if I ever saw one" she smiles impishly at her protege.

Sigurd is overheard praising Lydia for: Running a good thing!

Singe hears her name and wanders a few steps closer to Mydas and her new sibling. She gives a smile back over her shoulder to Sigurd. "Mydas is treasured just as he is." The young shaman refocuses her attentions on the newly wed pair, "Well met Princess Jaenelle. Sister now."

Lianne calls over to Jaenelle, "He won't be drinking it alone," as if her sharing in that task might somehow make it a little more acceptable.

"Mydas is treasured like the treasure he treasures." Sigurd points a finger at Mydas, glass in the same hand. The man is a poet!

The bottle is absolutely at Valerius' lips when Jaenelle responds, the whole process forcing him to pause as he looks towards her from the corner of his eye. He spends a few moments looking between her and the whiskey, appraising the situation as best he can, before he idly shakes his head and continues drinking--this time more than enough to tip him over the edge, if not a little more. After a beat he leans aside towards Lianne, tucks the bottle underneath his arm, and breaks away from the Malespero woman to quickly give his sister a kiss on the cheek. "If I stay, I'll finish the bottle, and that'll leave me too drunk for a wake and you forced to carry me home," he offers to her before moving to clasp Mydas on the shoulder, "I'd still like to sit down with you and speak, new brother. Cassius and I had a lot in common, there's a conversation you, Jaenelle, and I need to have." But, with that, he breaks back to his companion, and moves to leave.

Sparte remains at the bar where he sat down after paying his respects. Quiet, keeping entirely to himself. Drinking... Something non-alcoholic, probably.

"I married the wrong man" Jaenelle laments as she looks back towards Sigurd and the poetry he offers, sighing as she touches a hand to her chest. Singe is given a curtsey, "you are quite right though, he is an onion." Her expression is completely unreadable as she calls her husband an onion. "Thank you Lianne!" she then looks towards the pair with a smile.

"Your Highness." Jeffeth rumbles lowly to Jaenelle with an ever so radiant smile. His bright eyes shine down on the woman, practically dancing over her. Before then his eyes rest on Valerius. "Your Highness!" Jeffeth calls out. The big man steps a way as if to intercept Valerius briefly. One large hand going to engulf the Prince's shoulder briefly. "It's good to see you. I'm sorry under such unfortunate circumstances. On our first meeting you talked at length about Duke Cassius."

The big man frowns lightly, giving Valerius' a light squeeze on his shoulder. "I am sorry. Your Highness." Jeffeth rumbles lowly before stepping out of the Prince's way and stepping back up to Jaenelle's shoulder.

Signe points to one of the booths in the Spirit, "I think I favored that booth over there to slumber in when I consumed to much Prince Valerius."

"Sir Jeffeth." Mydas, or Ettore, which is it?! nods to the knight in greeting. "Well met." Yet before too long, his attention shifts, taken by his family being... family. "An accurate enough description." he remarks to Sigurd's response. And then actually smirks at Signe's in amusement. To Valerius, he nods. "Aye. That we should. Until we next meet, then." he tells the Prince, before shifting his attention back to Jaenelle at the onion comment. "As good a moment to take you back home as any, before you get any worse." And with that, he leads his wife away. Because he's the responsible one.

Riagnon glances after the booth Signe points out. ...since that information is pretty relevant to his general way of life.

6 House Velenosa Guards, Ibasia, the Velenosa Lady-in-Waiting leave, following Jaenelle.

Sir Erron, Roger, Aurum, 6 House Velenosa Guards, 2 Silvershields, Jaenelle leave, following Mydas.

"It's appreciated, Sir Jeffeth," Valerius offers to the bigger man with a smile, his head dipping as he reaches out to pat him on the shoulder, "It's good seeing you. We should share a drink sometime, my Inquisition work has been stealing a lot of my time lately, which subsequently means I'm drinking less. It's--a shame. Help me change that." He pauses, a glance given back towards Jaenelle before he adds, conspiratorially, "And don't tell my sister."

Lianne breathes a quiet laugh at the prospect of Jaenelle needing to carry Valerius. Or maybe at the princess calling her new husband an onion. "Has he made you cry?" she calls over with feigned concern. Entirely rhetorical, to be sure. She gives Jeffeth a moment of consideration at the way he intercepts Valerius, but it's a brief thing. Once the Thraxian prince is again at her side, she tucks in close and seems, yes, ready to leave. Without goodbyes.

Riagnon chokes some on his next sip in appreciation for Lianne's onion follow-up. His eyes twinkle dumbly with a kudos in her direction before his attention darts off to the next thing.

Fajra leaves, following Lianne.

Lydia gathers the last of the hangers on for the wake, "If you would like, Signe has arranged a bonfire just outside... a nice way to send off a lovely evening and Cassius."