A Challenger Appears

For the umpteenth time, Adaliz ascended the Blue Palace's stairs to mingle with the local nobles, as was custom. As much as the young Breton despised having to suck up to his superiors, it was necessary in order to worm his way into their good graces. After all, with friendship comes funding, something his fledgling investments were in dire need of. Putting on an inviting smile, he arrived in the main hall. That smile quickly turned sour, however, when he noticed that the clique he had spent a great deal of time working on lately seemed to be huddled around someone out of view, and having a grand time of it as well. Ada snorted and not quite stomped over to the group to determine just who was going around butting into his own machinations. Eventually, he found himself right outside the ground. Despite his efforts, however, he was unable to see anything, due to his own hei- the freakish tallness of the local nords. Suddenly realizing he must look completely pathetic standing awkwardly outside the crowd, Adaliz quickly backs off and aloofly leans against a pillar in order to salvage some of his image. "Oh gods I hope no one important saw that..." They think, glancing quickly around to assure themselves that their gaffe had not been noticed. While it might seem like a small thing, these sorts of events could have the tension of being surrounded by slaughterfish if you were one of the smaller fish in the pond. The whole place was filled with young nobles much like Adaliz, each seeking to curry favor and fortune from the established families. If one of them saw the opportunity, they wouldn't hesitate to humiliate a potential rival for even the slightest faux pas if it meant earning the attention and admiration of their peers. As Adaliz ruminated on the cutthroat nature of the upper class, the crowd began to thin, and on the edge of his vision a figure stepped toward him. Snapping his gaze upward, he caught sight of a fashionable looking you Bosmer leering down at him from a couple inches up. "Ah, I thought I saw someone interesting enter the hall. My name is Brirannir Elmhollow, of the Elmhollow logging company. We've opened a branch in Skyrim and I have personally been nominated to spearhead it. But enough about me. Do tell me, who exactly are you?" The human youth looks warily at the elf. Yes, he knew who the Elmhollows were. A rising star in Cyrodiil, known for their ability to produce a great deal of wood in a profitably short amount of time. It was also rumored that they did dealings with the Thalmor, though no one spoke openly of such things. So this was their representative? Already, Adaliz could tell he would be trouble. Brirannir had to have done his research before actually attending the party, so acting like he didn't know Adaliz was definitely a deliberate snub. But why? Trying to hide the note of caution in their voice, the breton responds. "My name is Adaliz Suriquardt Locanitte-Fithelorn, esquire. I currently am the landlord of several very important and prestigious establishments in this city, and gods willing I'll be doing more than that in the future." Such a brazen declaration of ambition ought to take him aback and give me the advantage, Ada thought triumphantly. But his feeling of victory were snatched from him as this interloper simply nodded in acknowledgement and changed the subject. "Those markings. They're so interesting" He stated, his voice dripping with honey. "Do tell me about them." Adaliz was caught off guard by the query, but responded as best he could, smiling politely. "Oh you mean these?" They touch their cheek. "Its a symbol of my family, er, clan. My father is a Bosmer like yourself, you know. Uungiel Fithhelorn. Perhaps you have heard of him. He is a very prestigious cattle baron, after all." The elf's own smile widens, and they lean over the breton just enough to make him uncomfortable. "Really now? I've never heard of him. But I'm sure you can tell me all about your father's history, what with your clan symbols painted on your face. So do go on, enlighten me." Adaliz stutters, their mind searching for something that wasn't there. "W-w-well I mean, father never told me that sort of stuff, he just taught me how to apply the symbols is all. A-and I don't need to worry about that sort of thing anyhow! I'm a breton after all." They wave dismissively. "There is no need to know of such things when the rest of my family has such a glorious history." The elf's smile doesn't waver, and perhaps turns a hint more predatory. Their arm suddenly darts out and slams into the pillar, staying straight and adjacent to Adaliz's head, and preventing him from rejoining the crowd unless he intended to make a fool of himself by awkwardly ducking under it or circling around the pillar. A few quick glances confirmed that there were more than a couple faces turned to watch the encounter, and trying to leave would only show weakness. Effectively, he was pinned. Brirannir leaned in. "So, you say you aren't even familiar with the deeper symbology scrawled on your face? And rather sloppily, I might add." He tapped a finger to his chin using his free hand. "You know what I think? I'd bet that you are just a fraud, a poser. You only draw that paint on your face because you think it makes you look exotic or interesting. Well, to be completely honest, I think you and your mongrel family is a disgrace to all proper wood elves in Valenwood and beyond. So listen here. If you talk to me again and those little squiggles of yours are still on your face, I'll make sure that you end up the laughingstock of this court, have I made myself clear?" Adaliz's mouth opens but no words come out. They seem absolutely stunned, their face reddening rapidly from both sheer embarrassment and overwhelming indignation. Brirnnanir doesn't even pretend to keep up appearances anymore, their once pleasant smile contorted into a self-satisfied smirk. "No need to reply. I'm sure I'll have your answer the next time we meet. One way, or the other." And with that, the elf leaned away from gobsmacked human and slunk back into the crowd, already beginning to flirt with one of the young ladies as though the prior encounter had never happened. Adaliz, for his part, regained his senses a few seconds later, and only barely kept himself from storming out on the spot. He carefully and calmly walked back down the steps, his face devoid of emotion as he returned the way he came. Upon arriving at him, he was met with Yvenn's worried countenance and a curious look from Serinal, as the two of them spoke almost in unison. "Why'd you come back so soon, master?" "M-master, are you crying?" Adaliz silenced them with a glare and stormed upstairs, throwing himself into his bed and using a pillow to muffle his exclamations of anger and frustrations. Oh, that Bosmer would pay. He'd regret ever thinking he could say things like that to the future richest man in Skyrim. Maybe not today, or tomorrow, but soon. Oh yes, he would pay.