Arrival IV

"His Imperial Highness, The High Duke of Ellikir, The Earl of Illiandor, Sarian K'Lestior K'Damurill D'Illiandor."

The newcomer wore a robe of royal blue, a silver tree, a replica of the elven guardsmen's, grew across his torso, the leaves spreading without end, yet the tree did not get bigger. Did not leave the bounds of the robe. Magic was at work here, used as a mere decoration.

It almost distracted me from the circlet on his brow. A simple band of silver, a small sapphire set in the centre.

What is it with these elves and their silver? - In fact, I realised his hair was silver, cascading freely around his shoulders. Someone needs to introduce these elves to diversity, too much of a good thing and all that...

His eyes never wavered as he approached and the courtiers parted before him, like the red sea before Moses, their inane chatter quieted by his entrance.

He stopped his advance just inside my personal space. Right at the point where you want to step back. The wall behind pressed into me. Trapping me.

His eyes roved my form, searching for something, something that this Garb would block from him. And at that I let out the breath I didn't realise I was holding. Right. He didn't know who I was, he thought I was someone else. He thought I was this 'Duchess'. I could do this. Bluff my way through this confrontation, and maybe a few after. Find a way to escape.

"Daughter." A statement. filled with meaning, memories, a past shared, a past I had no part of. Shitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshit...

Who was I kidding? I can't do this. There's no freakin' way this man will miss my ruse. Anyone else, maybe I could bullshit it, but family? This man? I should just come clean, explain what happened, it was just an accident after all. I can't be blamed!

I breathed deeply, prepared to do just that, but I met his eyes before anything came out.

I said earlier that the eyes are the window to the soul. After looking into this man's eyes, I believe it. This man, this elf, was a good man. A good father. A good leader.

He would understand what happened. He would know it was an accident. He wouldn't blame me. I knew this from just a glance, a small peek at what makes him, him.

I also knew he would never forgive me. I knew I couldn't survive his retribution. I killed someone he loved, and if he ever found out I would suffer for it.

I let out my breath. The room was still quiet. The wall was taking a turn holding me up. A small part of me, hidden beneath the terror, the uncertainty, thanked it.

And now I was feeling gratitude towards inanimate objects. Wonderful. What next?

"I am... sorry, daughter," thankfully he interrupted my internal gibbering. "I know this is not what you wanted. I know you fought against it. I am sorry..." he broke off at this point. His eyes finally left me, his form sagged, collapsing inward. Gone was the warrior, the leader of men. All that remained was the father. And he was grief-stricken.

I wondered what he had asked of his daughter to cause the man who commanded the room just moments before to transform so. I was overcome by worry for this 'Ceremony'. Another major unknown on my list of scary things. A list that had become way too long since arriving here.

Not for the first time I hoped the welcoming message was just a grand joke being played upon the first players. Or maybe that someone had hacked the game, and we were stuck in here for a while.

I could live with that. I wouldn't like it. But I could live with it. Unfortunately this place, even with its pop-up windows, fantasy creatures and magic, felt all too real, even for a supposed virtual reality.

Another flash of gratitude washed over me for the wall behind.

I must stand tall. I must not wallow in self pity. If this is real then I must survive. I have to get through this, so I can keep on living - and if it's fake? All just part of a video game, a joke or hack of some kind. Then, well, I'll just keep playing.

It's nothing if not interesting.

Once finished with my internal pep-talk, I noticed my 'father' had also recollected himself, his back straightened, his shoulders squared.

"But," he continued, voice even. As if nothing had happened. As if I had not seen his moment of weakness. No, I realised as the noise in the room built again, awoken by his resolve, as if they had not seen his moment of weakness. A chink in his armour he could not allow them access to, lest they strike, faster and deeper than any blade. "It is necessary, for our family. For our people, and for the Empire." He paused, eyes finally flicking back to me. "Thank you for finally seeing this, daughter. Thank you for following your duty to your family over your own desires."

He broke off again to grab a drink from a passing waiter.

"Gah, that is terrible. What is it- no, never mind, I don't want to know," he put the glass back on the tray and picked up the last two drinks, downing them in quick succession. He placed the empty glasses beside the first before turning back towards me, a wry smile on his face.

"Ancestors." he cursed, "I needed that."

"Still won't speak to me?" he said once the waiter had left. "I don't blame you, I wouldn't want to speak to me if I were you, either." He turned and stood beside me, surveying the room as the room surveyed us.

"I'll just wait right here, if you change your mind."

Well, that wasn't so bad. I didn't even need to say anything – I thought my luck was supposed to be bad? I did my best to ignore the shivers that crawled down my spine at that thought.

"Ho- ahem- how much longer do you think?" I asked, hoping for more information on this 'Ceremony'.

"Ah, so she can speak," he chortled. "Shouldn't be long now, see," he pointed at the entrance he'd just come through. "The Master of Ceremonies has just started moving people out."

I saw he was correct, I'd lost track of the room when he spoke to me and I had had a minor panic atta- no, a crisis of... ah who am I kidding, I totally had a panic attack, ugh - the Master of Ceremonies – hereafter to be known as MoC, because he deserved to be mocked, wearing that robe. Pretentious sod – was wandering through the room, seemingly at random, and occasionally whispering a word a two to one of the courtiers. Immediately afterwards the courtier would make their way out the doorway. In this manner the room was steadily clearing.

"He seems to have some sort of order he's sending them out in," I said, finding my voice again.

"Of course, he's sending them out in rank order, lowest to highest." He answered my question lightly, seemingly happy to have his 'daughter' talking to him.

"Of course," I said, and taking a guess, "then... we'll be last..." it seemed likely after all, I doubted there were many of these 'High Dukes' or 'Duchesses' after all.

He nodded his head slightly in response. "However, remember, this time I will be preceding you, for you are more important for this Ceremony." The wry smile returned at this statement. "I'm sure you'll enjoy one-upping your father, eh?"

"Right, because normally you'd be last in." I said, attempting to probe for more information.

"Right." He gave me a funny look at this, then sighed and shook his head. "Time to go." And indeed it was, The MoC was headed toward us, the room cleared out masterfully – heh, see what I did there? Aaand I'm talking to myself again.

I took a turn shaking my head as the High Duke stepped forward. The MoC bowed artfully, gesturing to the exit, then spun on his heel and strode off.

Great, another person who didn't believe in walking at a proper pace. Are you bastards all trying to make me trip? I began breathing deeply again when I followed my 'father' out the room.

More guards closed in around us as we left the room, the purple-wearing guards assumed the lead again, and my guards followed behind. Four more guards in royal blue - like that of my 'fathers' robe and of the bottom part of my guards gambesons - joined us. Two in front, two behind. Sandwiched in the middle was the MoC, the High Duke, then me a few paces behind, struggling to keep pace.

Congratulations! You have increased to level 10 in the Skill: Disguise!

You are now a Novice in Disguise!

Charm +2. EXP +250

The Skill level-up window almost caused me to yelp in surprise. I managed to stifle the noise before it passed my lips, however. Unfortunately this made it sound like I'd strangled myself. The High Duke turned his head briefly at the noise, but after ensuring that I was fine, he turned forward again.

Damn was I jumpy right now.

Happy with the large boost of exp, I checked my [Status] page... Yup, seems I was right. That boost from becoming a Novice in [Disguise] – whatever that means – brought enough exp for me to unlock my next level. I mentally hit the level up button for my base class before I could deliberate too long, perhaps leveling up while navigating the winding halls wasn't a good idea, but I figured doubling my level before the 'Ceremony' would be a good thing.

Your Elf (Planar) Class has increased to: Level 2!

You gain 6 Free Stat Points and +1 Resistance, Willpower, Vitality and Luck.

You receive a bonus inventory space due to the nature of your Race!

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

New level get! I wiped away the level up window and the [Status] page without adding the free Stat points, I didn't have the time to consider my options properly. I also ignored the still blinking [Insert Name Here] as I was terrible with names – I would be keeping my first name, as changing it would just confuse my brain more, but my last name of 'Jones' was boring - and I wanted some breathing room before I made more life changing decisions - though, my rushed Race choice did seem to turn out well – also, due to my low starting luck, the rest of my Stats were crazy high compared to my level, an extra six probably wouldn't make much of a difference, so I held back on adding those too.

It took almost ten minutes to reach our destination. The halls we walked through were covered in the same ostentatious art as my previous journey, I'm pretty sure I recognised a few, but most were new to me.

We only went down one set of stairs, one of those massive marble things that fill a whole room and can fit a dozen people side by side and not feel cramped.

It made me question the size of this place, we weren't exactly walking slowly and I reckoned we'd walked through over a mile of hallways – including my first trip – by this point. And apart from the occasional walled-in courtyard, we'd yet to leave a building. This place is monstrous, clearly the residents are compensating for something!

The guards peeled off and lined the walls of the hallway, once we reached our destination – including the purple-wearing ones this time – they joined a multitude of other guards, wearing an array of colours, each split diagonally with royal blue at the bottom. There was clearly some kind of theme at play here.

The MoC walked up to the archway at the end of the hall and stood opposite an elf who could almost be his twin, excepting that he was, perhaps, two feet taller - well over 6 and a half feet in height. His Robes also differed, following the theme I was starting to cotton onto, his robes were a deep purple, in-line with the palace guards, trimmed in gold. I could see what looked like black fur at his collar and the inside of his sleeves. His staff, too, was a step above the man who'd led us here's, some kind of white wood, gilded with golden spirals. The orb at the top was the same sun-yellow however, and the staff was much longer – as befitting an elf of his stature. The two elves scowled at each other, then settled into a staring match. Clearly they were not fond of one another...

The High Duke turned to face me, "While we still have some time, I just want to reiterate how much I love you, and how proud of you I am. And-"

"Time!" Barked the taller elf, the staring match broken off so he could turn his glare on us.

"Can you not just give me a minute or two to spend with my daughter before we enter?" The High Duke questioned, his voice, however, was resigned. He was not expecting his request to be received positively.

"You know well, Your Imperial Highness, that the Emperor waits on no man! Not even one of your stature." His glare intensified at this, and with a huff The High Duke acquiesced. Not that he had much choice in the matter, the tall elves gaze was not something you wanted to be focused on you.

"Very well, we will delay no longer. Come, daughter, let us enter the killing floor, eh?" With this ominous statement he strode forward into the room beyond, not looking back.

"His Imperial Highness, The High Duke of Ellikir, The Earl of Illiandor, The Earl of Ellikir, The Earl of Beroit, The Marquess of Karilnor, The Viscount Monyei, The Viscount Ilye, The Baron Elrington, The Baron Fotiz, The Baron Alros of Bainbridge, The Baron Eaglemont, The Baron Isslebrook, The Baron Melsz, Sarian K'Lestior K'Damurill D'Illiandor."

How did a man even think straight with that many titles!? I lost count after six and the tall elven man announcing this cascade of noblesse did not even hesitate once, nor trip over any of the alien – to me – names. He didn't even pause to breathe. These Masters' of Ceremony must train their lungs incessantly to keep up with the demands of this type of crazy. That and their memories, for; if everyone has that many titles then I can only commend his mind, and his training. I've already forgotten most of it after all...

The Elf, finished with his announcement, turned to me in expectation. As the echoes of The High Dukes passage into the next room faded, I pushed away my inane ramblings about his title – that I was using to distract myself of what was to come – and stepped forward.

I stumbled as I crossed the threshold into the next room, not just because the Garb, in the moment of imperial fanfare, decided to shift into a tutu of some-kind – wtf?! - but, instead, because of the crowd waiting for me.

"Her Royal Highness, The Duchess of Evendale, Countess of Illiandor, The Countess of Eeyersmar, The Viscountess Idlessweir, The Baroness Kealsbor, The Baroness Edwick-upon-Szir, The Baroness Bearsfoot, Aelwinel A'Esille A'Meilleri D'Illiandor."

Haha, The Baroness Bearsfoot... Bearsfoot... hehehehe... I could barely contain my laughter. In fact, a snort escaped me before I could strangle it, the sound echoing around the room, quelling the already dying echoes of 'my' announcement. This caused me to sober up faster than a donkeys fart. I didn't really find the name all that funny, but it was laugh– snort like a pig – or find myself a nice corner to curl up in. I chose the former option of course, I was trying to be optimistic after all, and I'd thought I'd excised all thoughts of panic in the previous room.

Being confronted with a room filled to the rafters with people – some alien in visage – almost broke my resolve though.

That's... that's.. a lot of.. um.. people.. eep.. stop staring at me... please... I surveyed the room as I turned to my right and followed in the footsteps of the High Duke. The 'killing floor' as The High Duke named it – a quite an apt description I decided, upon seeing it – was probably big enough to fit two tennis courts end-to-end, inlaid in the floor was a mural of an island – the land I was in, I assumed – and while it was quite large – it encompassed the entire floor after all – there was no sense of scale, nor was there any writing. I did not give it much more than a cursory glance, my attention mostly focused on the bleachers and the people standing there. Here, I found the courtiers that left before me, and many more besides.

The benches on either side rose up almost to the ceiling, stretching over 50 metres in height, the benches the courtiers were standing upon reached from the back of the room to about 10 metres before the dais that I was walking toward.

I figured there was literally thousands of people rammed into those stands. I guessed that almost half were human, the next most common being elves. After that it was a general mix-up of races. The most recognisable of which looked like Dwarves, Gnomes and Orcs. But, I could also spot the odd individual with feathery wings, a few with only one eye and a few with three or four. There was also space for Centaurs at the front, standing side-by-side with a race that had a massive ant body for their bottom halves. I didn't spot any spider hybrids, fortunately.

Lining the stairways, the back rows, the front rows – a line facing inward and one facing out – were countless guards, each in full armour, purple gambeson and holding a pike of some sort in their right hand. All the guards were humanoid in nature, of varying sizes. The amount of guards must have equalled everyone else in the room, or – I corrected myself, noticing more guards wielding crossbows, stationed in the parapets above the stands – even outnumber them!

Thousands of eyes watched my progress across the 'killing floor', progress almost halted when I realised my Garb had swiftly shifted through a tutu into a dress that rippled like water, it flowed down me, the hem extending with every step forward, growing longer and heavier as I progressed to the dais, and the half-dozen men and women waiting there.

Fortunately, when I reached the first step up to the dais, the hem – which, at this point, still extended all the way back to my place of entry – rolled back in, the material shrinking and changing yet again. God damn, I hate this thing.

Reaching the dais, I studied the people waiting there. There were six in total, four men and two women – at least I'm pretty sure the dwarf is a woman, it's hard to tell under all that armour – who stood in a circle along the edge, flanking me. Immediately to my left, Sarian – my 'father' - was standing impassive. Feet shoulder-width, hands clenched behind his back, and eyes staring straight ahead. He did his best to remain stoic, in keeping with the situation, but didn't seem to be doing a great job of it.

To his left, the middle of the three on my left, was another male elf, he wore robes similar to his elven brethren – in fact, apart from the dwarf, they were all wearing identical robes, only the colours and insignias differed. Are these all High Dukes? His robes were emerald-green, the hems done in gold, the insignia on his torso was that of a horse galloping. Poor thing, wonder if it gets a rest when he's not wearing it? To his left, at the far end of the dais was a human woman, going by looks I'd normally say she was the oldest here, but with the other races standing beside her it seemed unlikely. She wore her age well, standing tall despite her weathered skin and stick-figure proportions. Her robes were a sunset-orange, the hems black and the insignia that of a sailing ship.

"I still say my people would have managed it if that damned-" a gnome, standing centre right, was cut off from his exclamation by the dwarf he was conversing with – even after my entrance - elbowing him.

"Shush now, Geral, the duchess is here," she – and I was certain she was a she now... Her voice! Just the right combination of husky and sultry to pierce my chest and set my nerves afire – admonished.

"Now you shush me," he huffed, "when you know you're about to be shown to be a thief-" he cut off again when the armoured dwarf threatened to elbow him again, causing him to massage his ribs in remembrance. Good choice buddy, I wouldn't want her elbowing me either... She could do some other things to me though, I wonder if she has a body to match her voice hidden under all that metal... The dwarf's armour was polished silver and what looks to be a phoenix flew around the surface, flitting in and out of view.

The gnome had a robe of sky blue with white highlights, a bubbling cauldron sat beside a roaring forge on the front.

"Hey! Watch it!" I shouted, as the purple-robed MoC barged past me. I stumbled and fell towards the last man on the dais, a young human wearing red, I didn't notice what his insignia was as he caught me. I stammered out an apology when he stabilised me and helped me back to standing, thankfully the Garb was being cooperative, for now.

"Not a problem" he whispered to me, then winked as he continued, "Belloff is a complete dick..."

I snorted, and opened my mouth to offer my gratitude, but my words died in my mouth when I met his eyes. Mmm, such dreamy eyes, a lovely sky blue... And those lips... so full and kissable...

A shiver ran down my spine, and I had to shake my head to clear it of my thoughts. Not the time or place for this, first the dwarf, then this man... What is wrong with me?

My common sense recollected, I walked forward to 'Belloff' - and isn't that just an unfortunate name, what were his parents thinking?! - as he gestured for me to join him before the throne. I came to a rest on his left as he turned to speak to the room.

He rambled on and on about the history of the empires founding, a no doubt exaggerated tail of how the Emperor's distant forefather conquered the lands through righteous conquest, astounding diplomacy; making the previous monarchs into the High Dukes they were today. I blocked off most of it as he somehow made the fantastical tale long winded and dry. Also, I was way too busy formulating, then discarding escape plans to listen to his pompous ass.

I lost track of how long he spoke for, but when he finally came to a close, it felt as though an age had passed and I was surprised the old woman hadn't keeled over. Actually, after a closer inspection, I noticed her eyelids were closed. Did she just sleep through that? Wish I'd thought of that.... actually, can I sleep now? As I watched, the elven male to her right reached over and gave a her a poke, giving her a start and which caused her eyes to flutter open. I felt a small pang of jealousy at her ability to shut off the world around her. I didn't have that privilege anymore.

In the silence following the MoC's tirade, a door - previously hidden from my sight – creaked open behind the throne and a figure strode out.

"All rise for His Imperial Eminence, Emperor Terrius Mius Belbair The Third!" The MoC boomed unnecessarily, for as far as I could tell, everyone had already been standing from before I entered the room.

The Emperor waved his hand when he reached the dais, causing everyone not on it, and not a member of the ever increasing guards – apparently another contingent of guards had filled the 'killing floor' during the Emperor's entrance - to sit down on their benches, an action that set off a sigh of relief that echoed around the room.

The Emperor faced me on the dais, my view of the old woman blocked by his large frame. I didn't mean to imply he was overweight – though I guessed it was possible – he was simply a very large man. He was probably of a similar height to the MoC who stood to my right – his left – before he put on his eye-catching armour, the gold and purple monstrosity reflected the light so well he seemed to have brought a part of the sun inside with him. My more sensitive eyes – even before the [Low-Light Vision Skill] I would get at level 10 - had definitely improved since my 'Race-Up' and could barely take in his grandeur, my vision filled with spots and I attempted to blink them away.

Due to this I missed the first part of the MoC's newest oration, and after listening in for a few seconds, I ignored him again, I could barely follow his flowery words and overbearing prose. Besides, considering the matter of his previous speech, I doubted it was that important anyway.

Nope, not as important as those guards disappearing from the parapets above, and being replaced by guards wearing similar-looking, but not-quite-the-same outfits. The hell is going on here?

When I considered interrupting the tall elven MoC's speech I realised he had already stopped and was staring at me, waiting impatiently for something.

"Uh..." I muttered eloquently and looked around in a slight panic. What'd I miss? What'd I... My eyes fell upon my 'father' The High Duke Sarian, who was nodding his head at me emphatically. Well then, thanks 'dad'.

"Err, yes?" I said, questioning.

"Very well." He replied, and my shoulders slumped with relief, apparently that was the right response.

Crisis dealt with, I turned back to my observation of the parapets and the funny-business afoot. Actually, they all seem to have been replaced, how did they manage that without an alert sounding? I turned back to the Emperor, planning, again, to voice my concerns, when he responded to a question from the MoC.

"Yes, it would be my pleasure."

"Very well, I now pronounce thee husband and wife!"

I... WAIT?! WHAT?!

*