Wedding bells! (Wedding part II)

The day of the wedding dawns gloomy and rainy in Qeynos and perversely sunny and bright in Freeport. Dragonfly goes in to the Temple of War make her apologies to Cultist Levonicus, who is also the Dismal Rage's chef. A painful chunk of lost faction later, she exits and heads off to the clothier to pick up her gown. Her mother is already there in a slinky black silk number that shows more belly and backside than most of Dragonfly's trousseau.

"God Mother..."
"I'm a Shadowknight dear, we don't wear "nice" dresses..."
"I know but...god...mother..."
Elsbeth switches to skeleton form, the dress dangles on her bones. "Better?"
"You look like a clothes hanger."
"You make me want to eat my young, sometimes, dear... let's see your dress." Dragonfly obligingly fetches the dress. "Bloodstained robes? And you didn't like my dress! Darling, we can do better than this...try this on..." She pulls a tissue wrapped package from her bag and red silk drips into Dragon's hands.
"Ooooo flowing red gown!" She makes a move to hug her mother and catches herself. "Put your skin on..."
Elsbeth changes back to her human form for a hug, then back to skellie with a cackle.

Meanwhile, Lemonsalot is running about Qeynos on last minute errands, continually being bogged down by noiseome frogloks and their unsolicited (*yawn* *groan*) advice.

One foot in the door to the bank and a horrific croak behind him, followed by lengthy throat clearing... as a crusader of good, he can only stand and wait for the inevitable onslaught of longwinded frogbreath.

"By Mithaniaaaaal Marrrrrrr you young children...! Running about in fine armor... ... ... .. .... In myyyy *FROAK* day, young frogloks were not permitted to wear such things until they had achieved Destroyer status...it is a point! of honooooor *CROOOOAK* *throat clear* to earn one's dress armor... ONE does NOT ROLL their EYES at a Froglok, I say!"
"My apologies Percivious, an eyelash..."
"As I was saaaaaaaying...."
There's the thud of running feet and a booming voice.
"Would you look at the time!" and in a blue flash Lem is relocated to the Qeynos Castle steps.
"Oh thank Tunare you came along, I might have been there all day"
"My pleasure, my little friend" smiles Welf. "Now let's get you into the shiny stuff and off to Stormhold!"
"I have a problem..."
"I can see that..."

Lemonsalot is standing there looking like a harlequin in a mix of fabled chrome armor and ebon.

Some ponderment and griping later, Welf drags him off to the city merchant where they patch out his gear with shiny parade armor. They then head out to the griffin. Various members of the wedding party are milling around the Qeynos Gate griffin station. Lemonsalot sourly observes a few lowbies under 20 in the party.
"I thought we specified 'no kids'?"
"Couldn't be helped, chap."
"well this is going to be interesting... is someone grouped with them?"
"Naw...we're making them train down to the chapel" Leif deadpans. "Just kidding, of course...they'll be just fine."
"Hm...if you say so..."
"Elsbeth says they're running a few minutes late...small problem with a troll in East Freeport on the way to a bell."

The party moves out and heads off to SH, where they arrive and clear the chapel without incident. Flowers and candles have been set up already. There is no sign of the officient or Bride and her mother. In the hall outside the chapel comes the occasional sounds of battle, complete with the sounds of bodies hitting the floor and groaning their last. Leif stands up and shouts: "Chivalrous/Stargazer wedding in the chapel... could you people please die somewhere else for a while?"
A few ornery /ooc responses and mumbled apologies and the noise dies down.

The clatter of armored feet in the hallway announces Holee's arrival. He rushes up to the front of the chapel, mace swinging from his back, and out through the side door. He's doubled over with his hands on his knees, gasping for breath when Leif finds him. "You alright chap?"
"Went...to Temple of War by mistake... ogres... that guard! oh my god..." His greyish blue skin has turned violet. He digs into his bag and pulls out a flask, takes a couple stiff gulps and wipes his chin. "She said she'd show me her breasts..." Leif watches the Templar's eyes glaze. "I couldn't get out of there fast enough...couldn't even get on the griffin...had to run all the way..." He slumps into a chair and rubs the back of his head agitatedly. "Never again... that place..." He shudders and seems to come back to himself for a moment.
"Well you got it easy, my friend, the first time I snuck through Freeport, I was waylaid by a troll looking for a date... took me years to not auto-evac whenever I saw one."
The erudite fixes him with a level stare and says "There is no bottom to your well of compassion."
Completely missing the sarcasm, Leif slaps him on the back and replies "Anytime, my friend."

A creaking door over to their right makes them both jump, but it is only Elsbeth with a flushed and grinning Dragonfly in tow. "My beautiful girls!" Leif smiles, and goes to hug them both. "If I'd known you were coming naked, love, I'd have waylaid you in Nektulos" he tells Elsebeth, running a finger around her bellybutton.
Dragonfly targets Elsbeth and casts Bristlepelt. Leif jerks his hand back just in time. "This is MY wedding day, Daddy. You two can do whatever you want later."
Holee quickly changes from a gape mouthed leer to a disapproving raised brow when they turn back to him.
"Ah sweet Ogre..." Leif mutters, and Holee's skin goes flat gray.
"Point taken," murmers Holee, and sets about gathering his books and pulling his robe on over his armor.

There's a clatter from the chapel and a high pitched yelp, followed by mayhem. "Crap, repop!" Leif remarks and pokes his head out the door. Thomas and Mary are slaying the skeletons, but a level 11 bard lays dead on the floor. "Who let him ungroup?" demands Mary, as she rezzes him. People look at each other and shrug. Rainbow chuckles from her spot near the alter and says "I think he disbanded on his own."
The Bard looks groggily around then sits back in his chair, staring straight ahead under Mary's level gaze.

Holee goes to stand at the head of the chapel. "Everyone please take your seats, we are about to commence with the ceremony. Lemonsalot, if you would join me here at the alter"

A unidentified voice in the back says "Is that an alter or a tomb?"
"It is both, and you'll be interred in it too if you don't shut up" snaps Gabriella, taking her place on the bride's side of the alter.

A Troubadour and a Dirge strike up a tune that in a vague and cacophonous way resembles the wedding march as played by a pair of bagpipes at half wind. They glare at each other. The Troubadour bows sarcastically and steps back, giving the Dirge center stage...the Dirge starts out with a mournful tune. Someone in the back guietly coughs and Elsbeth leans towards the Dirge and gently informs him "that's the Funeral March, dear...perhaps you could perform for us at the reception and our Troubadour friend will take care of this part?" The Dirge steps down and finds a seat.

The wedding march underway, the wedding party equips their red torches and the chapel glows with a warm red light. The doors open, and Dragonfly steps forward, resplendant and glowing in her red silk. Lemonsalot looks over, gapes momentarily, then grins and blushes furiously. Holee keeps a pleasant, fixed smile on his face, well aware of Leif's stare fixed on him from the sidelines.