RP:Special Delivery for House Dragana
Summary: Joan visits Dragana manor hoping to find Larewen, however, it soon become obvious to the merchant that Larewen is missing and the barony has been passed to Quintessa Dragana in her absence. Kasyr handles the new Lady's affairs while she is out attending to 'Quin things'.
House Dragana
Towering over the abyssal forest, the dark mass of House Dragana is no less eerie than the vegetation, or lack thereof, in which it stands. The mansion's outer perimeters are flanked by the twisting trees and there are no gates to prevent the seemingly less desirable denizens of the forest from trespassing upon the property. A sleek, obsidian walkway runs from the house's entry to the path. The only source of light without comes form wrought-iron lanterns that are placed on either side of the walkway, spaced perfectly from one another. Within them, an eldritch glow of a deep, verdant hue flickers. Those brave enough to approach House Dragana's doors will be greeted with iron knockers bearing blackened skulls, their eyes set with emeralds that glow with the same light from the lanterns. Within the house's walls, there is no shortage of decadence. Only the most elegant of furniture is placed throughout its rooms. A grand staircase of blackened wood leads to the upper levels, where rooms for those that reside within the house can be found. Midway up, the stairs split to the left and right, spiraling upward. Here, there is a landing with a set of double doors that leads to a large ballroom. The lower level of the house plays host to a dining area and kitchen, though rarely used, a grandiose library filled with grimoires and tomes, and a small museum of artifacts collected by the house's residents. Though there appear to be no candles to light the way, an ethereal glow floods the innards of the house, providing ample reading light - undoubtedly arcane in origin. Dark magic is weaved into the house's existence as a measure of protection.
Joan was here to deliver some items Lady Larewen had backordered from Joan, Joan was a vampire merchant and ally of House Dragana, tho only those that belonged to Lady Larewen’s house and family would know that.
Kasyr doesn't necessarily belong in house Dragana. Certainly he's there, and he's even in the process of putting a cauldron to rather good use- by making a very ...palatable? ...tolerable? ...potentially digestible stew. Just ignore the wisping purple steam emanating from it. The eye of newt, or gizzard of Gremlin is probably responsible. That said, his miserable attempt at making something to eat is briefly interrupted by the door, and, given that Quintessa is busy...doing Quin things. "Violence, problement. Or training to be violent. Not that I can judge." well, that leaves him here to answer the door. So, what Joan gets answering the door, is a mildly tired, but mostly dour looking Kensai. He hasn't bothered with shoes, or his trenchcoat, but he's at least wearing the laziest fashion ensemble of black pants, a black shirt, and his vest. And, well, a sword at his side in case something fun's going to happen. ...Yeah, he really can't judge Quin, there.
Joan blinks a few times as she takes in Kasyr’s tried but comfortable look. “Hello, I’m Joan Blackheart, Lady Larewen had some items backordered, I just got them back in stock and came to deliver them.” She side steps so Kasyr can take in the view of the covered wagons behind the vampire merchant. “These were for her houses...*coughs politely* soldiers for her...ah...hostile take over of the vacate throne.” Joan shrugs...the guy might know and not know what Lady Larewen was up to.
Kasyr seems entirely unphased by the last tidbit, if anything- it just seemed to make him look a little bit more tired, as he proceeded to lean against the door sill and fold his arms, “Yes, yes. You know, if you were really that concerned with it being private, tu could have said something like keeping her men fed as she engaged in prolonged political engagements, ou quoi-ce-soit.” He leans a bit forward there, standing up further on his toes to get a better look of the wagons, “Do they need to be signed off on, or? Et er, if you were being specifically contracted for a war effort, there might be a slight delay. If you haven’t been kept abreast of the news.”
Joan shrugs, “It was well known Lady Larewen was campaigning for the vacant throne. And no...*a slight blush is given, she did feed recently.* I have been busy with my houses’ own affairs, studying for the next level in the Necromancers Guild, and tracking down a few business connections.” She does produce a clipboard with the official orders and bill of sale. “Hm, I heard a few things, and ran into Ayras at the tavern...it’s not going to be pleasant when she decides what to do about all the news and happenings.” A pencil is produced also.
Kasyr accepts the clipboard offhandedly, before cradling it into the crook of his elbow., his fingers flicking over the pages in an offhanded manner. It looked fairly in order- but he’s also not really sure what the financial status of the house is. Generally the nickname of ‘The Mad’ does not necessarily correlate to savvy fiscal or political decisions. “Well, I don’t think you’ll have to worry to much about her returning to fix things, enfin. Last I heard, she’s rather abruptly vanished. Et doing so at such a time es not the sort of thing that’d be doing her favors if she plans to return.” Kasyr accepts then pencil then, if only to scribble his own signature there, and pass it off to Joan, “Ayras though, Aye? Like…yay tall? …Sort of a flighty jerk. Pointy fangs. Little stabby sometimes.” There’s like, a rough approximation of their height given, though, it’s rather possible it might be off. When was the last time he’d seen Hamlet.
Joan takes the pencil and clipboard back with gentle grace, nodding her agreement with what the fellow said, checking to see if the signature was readable, only to pause as she reads over the signed name a couple times before staring at Kasyr in mild surprise...”Oh dang it, is it really you?!” She offers a half bow from the waist, hand with clipboard clutch to her left side, head bowed. I mean...how else do you greet the former king?! “I’m sorry...I did not know it was you...*flushed pink now all the way to her pointed earlobes.* And Ayras is of the female gender now...but yes, 6’2 redhead all in amour with a crabby personality.”
Kasyr manages a well practiced smirk, complete with a tooth popping out over his lip, and then runs his hand through his hair to help showcase the Calico cat ears which pop up in the wake of the movement, "Really me, oui. Anyways, I'm here on business. There's been a lot of strife in Vailkrin, lately. As you well know." There's a sort of exasperated eye roll that accompanies the motion, though his tone grows a bit warmer at further clarificaiton on Ayras, "...Huh. Huuuh. So, like Dami, Sort of. Anyways, I appreciate that. I haven't seen them in a long while." Reaching up behind an ear, he plucks a cigarette, that had been stashed there somehow, and sets it to his lips, "Anyways, es there anything else on the itenerary for the er, "He gestures towards the wagons in a vague manner, "Supplies et quoi-ce-soit?"
Joan straightens up from her bow, doing her best to control that pink flush that colored her normally pallid complexion, even going so far as to fan herself with the clipboard, was it all of a sudden hot...no-no this was gloomy old Vailkrin, did she just fangirl?! Gods strike her back to life if she did...vampires, especially noble family ones did not blush and fan girl...right-right, deep inhale of breath....slow exhale, build yourself back up, strap steel to that spine, no wobbly kneeing! But...yes, once more controlled composure, less flush, cool vampire. “Y...yes, for now, other supplies will roll in once the boats are offloaded, payment was already received.”
Kasyr has a lot of practice at keeping a straight face, but there is something so familiar with the expression and overall sort of feeling there that he's already formulating exit plans, just in case. The fact that Joan actually seems to put a fair degree of effort into getting her composure back is actually a bit of a reassurance, "Well, I appreciate the news, enfin. I'm not sure if I'll be here to help with the rest of things, Madamoiselle Blackheart, but I'm glad I could help facilitate this in the meantime. I think, however, that you may have to make the rest of your arrangements with the current caretaker of the manse, Quintessa." Kasyr casually starts to snap his finger beneath the edge of the cigarette, a few errant sparks of electricity forming so he can start smoking, "If that's all...?"
Joan inhaled and exhaled once more, now back to a slight pink flush to her cheeks, and to her nose...gathering herself Joan would offer out her hand towards Kasyr, “Yes, tho if I could make an appointment to speak with you at a later date on matters pertaining to my sire’s noble house, and a small detail of personal matters.” She answered in her normal everyday tone, even, clear. “It was a pleasure to meet you, and I hope to do business with you in the future.”
Kasyr offers a cordial shake on the matter, and nods slightly, "It was a plaisir, et I suppose a bien tot. Though, I am curious what I could do either personally or in regards to the matter of your house. Still, I can afford the opportunity to hear you out." There's an angry burbling in the background that might be that horrid stew Kasyr's been trying to make. "...Later, yes. Have a good evening." And then the doors shutting behind him, and he's shuffling away.