So, darlings, to Winchester, surely the very high point of all our social calendars! With our noble King himself as host, it was certainly time for everyone to get done up to the very nines, and strut their beautiful stuff as well as they were able.
I'm pleased to report that, as so often happens, the Winchester court saw the introduction of some delightful new friends for our social gatherings - what a lovely little collection they were too. The mighty and the merry all popping up to say hello.
Who could fail to be impressed by the lovely Steven Finch, a new addition to the Ventrue Clan. Introduced by his delightful and charming Sire Simon Laertes, Steven seemed a little bit overwhelmed by the night's proceedings, but I'm sure he'll find his feet soon. And how nice to see our lovely Mr Laertes out and about again - he spends far too long away from court, and it's splendid to see him moving around again. My spies tell me he was as impressive as ever and made a good impression wherever he went.
Rhiannon also popped along with her own Childe, the sweet little Maevebh. Quiet and curious, she seems a credit to her line.
But perhaps most exciting of all, not only a visitor from Bristol (why do we so rarely hear tales of that beautiful city? Surely intelligent and sophisticated residents of that city would love to bring us stories of their lives?), but news of a new line of the Ventrue! Yes indeed, it seems unknown to all of us the 'Janet-Something' line has been contributing to the history of mankind down the ages. How could the 'Janet-somethings' have remained hidden to us so long? Who can say, but at last Wessex has its own representative of this splendid bloodline in the dynamic form of Samuel Wilson. Bringing tidings of Bristol, he also stood proud and acknowledged his line before us all.
Now, friend reader, you, as I, might have wondered if such a line as the 'Janet-something' was but a myth, some fiction or deception of history. How could such a great and wondrous thing exist without us knowing of it? But oh no! It is we cynical and doubting fools that are wrong. For as we all know, Ventrue recognise their own, and Samuel Wilson, and his line, were warmly welcomed by the Ventrue of Wessex, particularly the scholarly Antonius Dashwood, thus confirming our hope, our dream, that this was indeed a whole new noble line and not, as in our sordid little minds we might have imagined, a horrid little Caitiff passing himself off as a Ventrue so as not to get his neck wrung.
Never mind, I'm sure Elizabeth had the most essential business elsewhere, and anyway the roads between Winchester and Portsmouth are just terrible this time of year. Perhaps the Prince of Portsmouth, our much beloved Benedict Hawthorne, was keeping her busy for the evening, as he seems to have had too much to do himself to make it to Winchester. Never mind, those stalwart Southampton Toreador soldiered on without their two best Portsmouth friends to keep them company, and seemed to just about enjoy the evening without them.
Step forward the latest recipient of these educational experiments, Mike Fibbens, introduced to us all by that minxy lovely Violet. Some would have thought it unusual for the Toreador to turn to the Gangrel to instruct and introduce their own, but after the sad death of India it was perhaps felt that young Mike would get his best chance learning some of those rough, tough, no-nonsense ways that the Gangrel seem to specialise it. Lovely to see Clans working together!
And one can hardly wait for young Mr Fibbens' debutant ball. Of course it is a little unusual for him to have been introduced to court without his ball first, but, well, we can forgive Violet her little slip this one time. What a magnificent night out we can look forward to, as the Gangrel throw a celebration for the debutant Fibbens'. One can picture the scene now - a moonlit field, the star spangled sky above us, the finest cows provided for us to snack upon, leaves artistically rustling in the background. What will one wear for best effect, do you think? Are Wellingtons passe, would you say? Will there be games? Catching greased pigs, climbing trees, that kind of thing? Well, I'm sure the Gangrel and Mr Fibbens will show us a splendid time!
Worry no more friends! We are all happy to greet the long awaited return of our long sleeping cuz Walter Vastel, noble and upstanding member of the Hellenic line. Asleep for long centuries, he returned to Wessex in order to sort out a minor political misunderstanding with regard to the Dominion of his wonderful islands.
What a charmer he proved to be - winning almost every member of the Royal Primogen over to his cause with his subtle, considered use of words, and his amazing grasp of the modern world. We can all rest easily knowing that such Kindred as these walk the land once more, and are looking out for all our interests.
Still, I'm sure no one would hold such a misunderstanding against Mr Arpidge. The efficient, no-nonsense way with which so many members of the Wessex court are now treating him should tell him as much. For a man who wishes to get down to business quickly it should be a great relief that many are not even pausing to bother with such inefficient, and worthless, niceties as saying hello.
to Good Evening!
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