Closed | Ladies Adventuring League #1

[coquettish_trees]

WHO: Evie, Freddie, Lexie, Gwen, Sonia, Wysteria
WHAT: Genteel ladies on their Nancy Drew + Tomb Raider + Babysitter's Club + Booze game
WHEN: Early Harvestmere
WHERE: A small ruin an hour's ride from Kirkwall
NOTES: Rated PG13 for some scenes of mild peril and rough unladylike language

One morning, it had been generally agreed upon that Kirkwall was a dour place that really could not be looked upon anymore that day lest a terrible ennui descend upon every single pair of delicately sloped shoulders.

And so, after a brief council, it was decided that a ride into the countryside for a picnic in the lovely crisp air was precisely what was called for. Baskets packed by servants, horses saddled by stableboys—or, in the case of the intrepid, by themselves—a procession of ladies departed the town in search of somewhere properly picturesque to spread themselves out and enjoy the day outside the grey walls.

Being as all are daring and fancy-free, the road is soon abandoned for the grassy low hills of the area, and it is at the top of one of these that a small and curiosity-piquing half-structure of stone is sighted, low enough between two hills that setting themselves up within it would save them from even having to see Kirkwall on the horizon. Besides, dear Freddie likes ruins, does she not? What lucky circumstance!

And so, the horses are tied in a small grove nearby, the blankets spread within the shelter of the ruin, the light repast unpacked, and perhaps most importantly, the wine poured. It promises to be precisely the kind of excursion that had been called for.

Comments

Picnic!

[coquettish_trees]

[ for all your gaily chatting needs ]

[elegiaque]

( gwenaëlle did not bring the whole project of her veil, because that would be insane, but she has brought with her an embroidery hoop to occupy her hands (when they are not occupied by cheese or wine) and to show lexie her ideas, because they will soon be putting them together properly. it paints a positively idyllic picture of young ladies at leisure, except for the conversation that she makes—

which is typically colourful. )

I still have to bat my lashes at my grandfather to secure the house and get that Lakshmi woman his purse open for the rest of it. I did think maybe the courtyard, since I gutted the ballroom while I was living there, but it'll be fucking cold.

( her lips purse, and she tilts the hoop this way and that, imagining— )

Maybe I can prevail upon a few mages to get inventive.

[coquettish_trees]

[ lightly, from where Lexie is lying on the blanket in a graceful sprawl with her hat drawn over her face to as to avoid anything so unbecoming as sunlight touching her: ]

Do you not know one or two whose culture is such that they may dispense with the need to think it up themselves?

It should not be a terrible wedding gift.

[heirring]

Couldn't you have some braziers?

[Wysteria had brought a book with her, but is using it as a place to rest her cup instead of for reading. In counter to Lexie's steadfast avoidance of the sun, her broad brimmed hat hangs against her back held there only by the emerald ribbon still about her neck. She's eating a fruit tart, quietly shedding crumbs onto her skirt and surreptitiously sweeping them away at steadfast intervals.]

A cousin of mine had his wedding in a dancing hall in winter, but even indoors it was really quite cold enough that I wish they'd just done it outdoors and had little fires going.

[aventuriere]

Or go fully rustic and have a great bonfire in the courtyard [ is Freddie's helpful suggestion, from where she is reclined on the blanket opposite.

She's brought a book as well and appears to be actually reading it, occasionally even drawing a tiny nub of pencil from behind one ear to make some sort of note in the margin. She's doing so now, speaking without quite looking up. ]

You are marrying an elf, after all, surely some sort of primitive woodland theme would not be considered any more inappropriate than the rest of the affair.

[elegiaque]

Quaintly aesthetic, ( she proposes in a drawl, off freddie's suggestion—that sounds like something that iorveth would probably like if it were suggested less patronizingly, and that thranduil would not, and it is immediately entertaining.

the moreso for the fact she isn't actually going to be terribly involved in this sort of decision-making. )

As long as I'm not cold, I'll be happy, but I think the liquor will help with that first and foremost.

[coquettish_trees]

Liquor is most efficacious that way. [ Lexie's hat agrees amenably. ]

Is it only cold that can make inroads on your happiness, or shall we be on guard for other such miseries?

[heirring]

Terrible music, perhaps. [Wysteria supplies helpfully, hurrying to catch an especially large crumble of the tart.]

Though I'm not actuallt sure spirits help with that one much, come to think of it.

[elegiaque]

Well, I've never wished for an identical twin who could stand in for me more, ( laughed, reaching for her wine. ) Fucking weddings.

[coquettish_trees]

If that worked, I am sure dear Evie would have had me stand for her ages ago, [ says the hat, with wry amusement, ] if only to escape from the fraught and terrible world of our Lady Mother's parties and letters of horribly disguised entreaty and to the comparative tranquility of the battlefield.

[heirring]

Oh!

[It's such a bright, sharp interjection, even delivered around the very last of the fruit tart and from behind Wysteria's hand.]

Are you and your sister twins? How perfectly lovely. --But surely you tried it at least once, didn't you? To switch places, I mean. Oh, if I had a twin I'd want to trade out with her all the time. I imagine that's something you'd have to coordinate from very young; like, say, both of you dressing in a very particular color or being known for a favorite ribbon. That way people would know to look there first and not question anything past it--

[A pause. She clears her throat.] But yes. Fucking weddings.

[bouclier]

Lexie always liked dressing up as me more than I liked dressing up as her.

[ Evie adds in from where she stands with her horse, feeding him one of the apples from their picnic and scratching him under his chin. ]

We haven't switched places as adults in quite some time. I don't know if we could pull it off any longer.

[heirring]

Oh I'm certain you could. Take myself for example - the way you do your hair and the style of your clothes is so very different that I'm not sure I fully recognized how exactly you duplicate one another until this very moment. I'm certain if you emulated the other's dress and way of speaking that no one would be the wiser. Not for some time anyway. I guarantee you could get away with it.

[Which is, frankly, a delightful idea in her book.] Really, you should at least try it and see what happens. If I had a twin sister, I would insist on trading places constantly.

[coquettish_trees]

[ Lexie sits up, pulling her hat to her breast excitedly before replacing it—with some minute adjustment—back on her head. ]

Oh, Evie, let us be each other for Satinalia! Do say yes. I shall even promise not to kiss anyone.

Curiouser and curiouser...

[coquettish_trees]

[ accidental discovery of a deeper part of the ruin! gasp! ]

[vorbratta]

Sonia's quite enjoying the picnic and the opportunity to socialize -- and the breath of fresh air -- but she does have a tendency to wander. After grazing a bit, feeling contented, she explores the ruin at a meandering pace.

She almost doesn't notice it, but her boot catches on a rock and she trips forward, grabbing at one of the larger stones to balance herself, but her weight against it pushes it forward, and there's dark beneath it -- a space below. Curiously, Sonia nudges some of the other crumbled bits of wall out of the way until she can make out what it is.

"Oh! Come have a look at this," Sonia calls, waving the other ladies over. "I think there are stairs down here -- they've been covered up for quite some time, it looks like."

[coquettish_trees]

Stirring herself from her indulgent half drowse, Lexie pulls her hat back atop her head and props herself up on her elbows to look curiously in the direction of Sonia's voice. Dark against the stone that surrounds it, the uncovered pathway has a delightfully forbidden and adventurous feel to it that is enough to overcome even the siren song of continuing to enjoy a breezy afternoon of lying about and injecting remarks into bright cultured conversation at her leisure.

"Can you see where they end?" she calls over, "Oh, do say you cannot, for then we shall be put in the position of finding out for ourselves."

[aventuriere]

Freddie finishes pouring her wine (priorities, after all), but once that is complete she carries her glass over to investigate, taking a sip as she steps carefully between the rocks to join Sonia and Lexie.

"A hidden chamber!" she says, with obvious pleasure, "How marvelous, that is just what the afternoon required. Shall we light a torch and investigate?"

[elegiaque]

“It's not going to investigate itself,” is Gwenaëlle's philosophical contribution, though she does briefly take pains to check that she's remembered to be armed in some fashion today. One never knows what investigation might yield, and exactly how unyielding it might be—best to approach prepared, and with some measure of wariness.

Not enough by the measure of anyone not present, probably, but some.

[vorbratta]

Armed? Who said anything about armed? Certainly not Sonia, who owns an ornamental knife at most, but didn't think to bring it. She hasn't yet learned to be mindful of danger in the wild.

"I'm going down," Sonia announces definitively, tossing her hair back. "It looks deep...who's got a light?"

[coquettish_trees]

"I imagine if any of us thought to bring a torch it should have been dear Freddie." There is an expectant look directed towards the eminently well-prepared baroness.

"Elsewise I'm sure a few sturdy branches, shorn off bits of blanket, and the judicious application of brandy ought to suffice. I did find a bit of flint in case we decided to stay out into the evening and have a lovely fire."

CW: mild peril

[coquettish_trees]

[ why, it seems we're not alone down here! (it's a couple of shambling corpses, perhaps erstwhile adventurers caught in a landslide that sealed up their entry point) ]

[heirring]

Poking about in dark, underground, long forgotten ruins had been well and good. Wysteria had, up until just a moment ago, honestly been enjoying herself immensely. Good food, a few nice drinks, pleasant company, some dusty old would-be tomb for exploring - what wasn't to like?

Well, strike the 'would-be' part from that earlier thought apparently. There's nothing quite like a few corpses rising from the places they'd fallen, skin drawn tight over bone like canvas on a a picture frame, and shambling into their circle of torchlight to take the afternoon on a rather more malicious turn.

Wysteria, level headed and sensible girl that she is, jumps two feet out of her skin and shrieks like a child as the first corpse shifts out of the darkness. Without thinking, she does the first and most automatic thing that occurs to her: she chucks her torch at the creature, the cobwebs and paper dry scraps of clothing hanging from its gaunt frame igniting like kindling.

[bouclier]

The curses that escape from Evie's mouth at the sight of the corpses are hardly befitting a lady or the company she's keeping, but half of them are in Orlesian so at least they sound nice. She is at least a chevalier who is always prepared, even if she doesn't have a shield she has her sword strapped to her side, and she draws it even as Wysteria throws her torch.

"I bloody hate dead things that keep moving. Ladies if you're ill-equipped to defend yourselves get behind me!" She doesn't spare the women a glance, striking out with her sword at one of the corpses not ablaze, sweeping it's head from it's shoulders in one motion.

[coquettish_trees]

Lexie would heavily disagree that her sister's curses are unladylike; it seems like an entirely fitting reaction for a proper woman of the peerage to have to horrible half-rotted suddenly upright and shambling grotesqueries.

One goes up in flames with an audible 'whoomph', the fire eagerly eating into its new tinder and throwing the rest of the cave into sudden chiaroscuro as it howls and stumbles forward, reaching. The brighter light reveals a third corpse just as the one Evie had summarily relieved of its head moves forward and takes a heavy (and now poorly-aimed) swing at her before falling to the stones beneath it.

For her part Lexie emits a high yip of surprise, is suddenly holding a quite lovely knife, and then is suddenly not holding a quite lovely knife anymore as it finds a new home buried in the throat of the now merrily burning creature. It's really too bad they don't have to breathe. And that she's also now regretting the trained reflex that has left her defenseless.

[heirring]

Wysteria's hand closes as a vice about Alexandrie's wrist. With a decisive (or panic stricken) tug and a few scrambling steps, she is hauling Lexie back behind the protective arc of Evie's sword arm. Heads roll. Corpses crumble. Wysteria lets out a dismayed squawking noise as the burning creature staggers toward them. Hand still about Lexie's wrist, she turns to resolutely-- flee up the corridor from whence they came, given the chance.

Resumption of Picnic!

[coquettish_trees]

[ that was exciting, let's do it again sometime! ]