Knight's night out! [Anadwen]

[Gabriel Graves]

-Late night, the great knight's feasthall of Ketra-

This..was an interesting scenario.

A half hour ago, Eric found himself getting ready for bed in an extremely fancy room guarded by two stern looking elvish knights. Now he found himself quietly looking at a rather full pint of mead as a guest in one of biggest celebrations in Ketra, in a room filled with knights. The wanderer had to wonder how he had gotten himself into this situation. Yes, he had done something to get the town's attention, but did that really mean that they had to put him in a position that was starting to resemble imprisonment? (Albeit imprisonment with some of the nicest accommodations Eric had witnessed since he had killed the brimstone dragon several years ago).

The story was as interesting as it was strange, having begun several days ago when Eric singlehandedly took out not one, but a pair of wyverns attacking a small yet rather wealthy village on the outskirts of Ketra. After the skirmish, the former Adelan knight was confronted by a rather sizable group of elvish knights, whom promptly requested he return to Ketra to be debriefed on the attack. When Eric explained to them who he was (and his feat of killing wyverns was confirmed by the townsfolk) they then requested that Eric remain in town for a party they were having. Under watch of knightly guards, of course.

It was quite a party: probably once of the nicest Vinland had been to in a long time. Still, that didn't change the fact that he felt ill at ease and somewhat misplaced among such a crowd. He was a dragonslayer: both revered and hated by those that had known what he had done in his homeland. These were elves, noble, proud and disciplined, even when drinking to the bottom of a dozen pints. Granted, Eric had heard tales of some more interesting behavior from elvish women when inebriated.

Vinland swallowed a lump in his throat and continued to watch the festivities from what he hoped was a quiet and secluded enough corner that he could possibly escape when the knights became drunk enough and the partying became rowdy enough.

Hopefully the flagbearer wouldn't be caught up in them. Or before someone got more word out about his identity and got Eric in even more trouble than he might already have been in.

[Anadwen]

"For the love of gods! Please! Anoriel! Don't make me do this!" Athran groaned, and covered his face with his hands. Anoriel grabbed his arm and pulled him towards the door of the hall. "Athran... You can't avoid company all of your life! There will be other knights there, maybe even ones you know."
"And that's the problem. I don't want to meet anyone I know. Do you really think I'm that beloved?"
"Do it for me, Athran."
"No."
Anoriel narrowed her eyes. "There will be free wine."
"Maybe I will." Athran shrugged. "But if there will be one man turning around you, we are leaving, whether you want it, or not."
"However you want it to be." Anoriel nodded. It was the best she could get out of him, and in the end, he never mentioned her turning around men.

They entered the hall - Athran, this time in a chainmail shirt, less worn and more elegant black hauberk, and off, course, his black sword, hanging by his side, while Anoriel was dressed in a long dress, white as snow. She headed towards the biggest group of knights around, while Athran went immediately towards the red wine. If he has to be on a celebration, he'd rather be there drunk.

Anoriel quickly found herself talking to not one, but five other knights and soldiers at once. A hand reached out, offering her a glass of white wine, and everybody was polite and courteous. She was in this position on every celebration... And she enjoyed it. Unlike her brother, who tried to avoid company, she was seeking it.

[Gabriel Graves]

Anxiety crept over Eric slightly as eyes were on him. It wasn't everyday that anyone met someone like the Flagbearer of Adela, or even got a look at him. People (especially women) seemed to be catching glances of him. Most other knight would have likely been moving about the room looking for a lass to swoon for the evening, but Eric was not exactly that kind of knight or man for that matter, Despite the false rumors about him.

Words and rumors that were spreading around the hall. Apparently, people were starting to take notice of him, and knowing his history and exploits that was something of note. Some raise a mug or glass to him, others shot him a menacing look or glare. An occasional maiden gave him a wink or other suggestive gesture, which made the somewhat shy knight's gaze quickly change its focus.

He simply wanted to lay low until he could find a way out and escape from the gaze of his pseudo-captors and find a relatively peaceful place to get some sleep. He had to admit though, there were quite a lot of beautiful ladies at the party. In particular, a silver-haired elvish woman whom men seemed to be throwing themselves in front of. She was...quite something. Even the women were shooting her jealous glares as the more distractible men and knights started to give her looks. Eric simply tried to keep a quiet gaze for an exit at the moment, though the silver-haired elf maiden caught his gaze every few seconds.

She was really something.

[Anadwen]

The company of knights and soldiers kept trying to woo Anoriel, and she laughed at their jokes, but was still looking for one that would be special. The ones that surrounded her were already known to her, but she was looking for a man that would be at least half as mighty as her brother. It didn't have to be a demon-slayer and master swordsman... But she wasn't one to go for the average.

In the meantime, Athran found one of his old companions. They begun discussing the events of past years, when the man mentioned wine. Athran's lips twisted into a grin. "Drinking contest?" he chuckled, his eyes glinting with mischief.
"Aye! Bring the wine!" the knight replied.
"You stand no chance against the Black Sword."
"I'd doubt that..." The man grabbed the jug in front of him, filled with wine to the brim. Athran's hand clenched around one, too. A few others were watching them, smirking, and making bets.
"Three, two, one, and drink!" someone counted.

Athran immediately turned the liquid, filling the goblet, into himself, letting the thick substance of red wine flow into his mouth and down his throat. It was cool, and yet he soon felt its warmth spreading through his body. He wasn't the first to put his jug down, but stood steadier on his feet, and while his companion was already stumbling, and struggled with the third jug, his hands were steady even around the fourth.

"Still going, Deathstorm?" the man questioned him, wine flowing down his beard. Athran nodded, and picked up the fifth jug. The glass thudded as the other soldier put his goblet down. His eyes crossed and he stumbled back, falling into the group of knights behind him. Everybody laughed, and only then Athran put his own jug down. He stared into the distance, feeling like everything is turning around him, spinning wildly, but still stood without wincing. "We have a winner!" someone roared.

Anoriel heard the shouting and cheering, and immediately turned, sensing that her brother is more than likely to be involved in whatever is happening. Her slender figure slipped through the crowd, to find Athran amid a group of cheering knights, obviously already drunk. She smacked her head, and disappeared again.

It wasn't anything to worry about. He'd get into this state at almost every celebration she pulled him to - all she could hope for was that he wouldn't try to set his harp on fire.

[Gabriel Graves]

Good.

Apparently another knight of some status by the title "Black Sword" was getting into a drinking contest with some fellow elvish knights. A contest that drew away many of the stares that Eric had been getting. Quietly standing (well, as quietly as a knight of his size and stature could) Eric started slowly making his way behind the crowd, watching the drinking spectacle to convince others he was a spectator and not an "escapee". So far, so good. As the somewhat well-dressed knight made his way past one of the barmaids, she gave him a seductive smile. This seemed to get the attention of a knight who had his attention on this particular barmaid, who called out to Eric outside of the spectacle.

"Bored, Vinland? Come and have a drink! we could use the fun. Your one of the more famous people in the room, we're eager to hear your tales as well!"

"I need a bit of fresh air: too much wine."

"Nah, what you really need it to find a fine lass to get to bed with then, have some fun then turn in for the night." A squire teased over the rowdiness of the drinking games.

"I doubt I'd be so lucky to run into-"

Eric was about to say "a pretty lady" when he literally did just that. The man literally ran into the silver-haired elvish maiden he had been eyeing earlier, knocking himself and her over in an unusual case of clumsiness. He barely caught himself before he landed square on top of the woman, his face barely avoiding sailing straight into her chest. Thankfully, the group of drunken elvish knights were too busy playing games and drinking (or playing drinking games, the mix of the two) to notice. The speed at which the flagbearer stood up was astounding, not wishing to let the spectacle drag on and embaress the woman any further. Offering a hand to help her to her feet, his voice was apologetic as he stammered out an explaination.

"I-I-I'm so sorry, my lady, I wasn't looking where I was going. Are you alright?"

[Anadwen]

Anoriel took his hand and swiftly sprung to her feet. "Don't worry, it's not something I wouldn't be used to. My brother is a dragon rider, but down on earth, he has the grace of a wooden log!" she laughed. "Had too much wine?" She showed him a wide smile, when another figure appeared behind her back.

"Anoriel. I warned you..." Athran glowered. His hands were still holding a half-empty goblet. Anoriel rolled her eyes over. She grabbed the harp of someone, standing by, and handed it to him. "I'm not a child, Athran... What about you go and play something?"
"And I am not a child either, my dear. If this is an attempt to get rid of my attention, it failed miserably."
"It's not. It's an attempt to make you do what people do on celebrations, except for getting mindlessly drunk!" the elf-maiden crossed her arms on her chest. Her brother was once again being unreasonably overprotective.
Athran sighed. "Do as you wish. But I'm watching you!" he warned her, and walked away.

Anoriel shook her head in laughter, and turned her attention back to the knight in front of her. "What is your name?"