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In memoriam:
The Golden Age of Lucantea
Peacekeeper
One
He looked with interest and appreciation at the girl who was being ushered into the room where the gathering was held. Her head was well placed on her shoulders, with a sensitively cut nose and grayish green eyes. Definitely the kind of girl one would look at twice, or at least, Farell would. He noted her dark hair, which lay back in long gorgeous waves which ended a fair bit under her shoulders.
“I'm seeing what you're doing there, Farell,” the voice of Allen made him jump.
“Judge's nuts!” he swore as he spun around in the chair, “Are you always out to get me by sneaking up on me all the time?”
That got a laugh from Allen. He circled the table and pulled one of the oak chairs, sitting on the opposite end of the round table.
“Straight after promotion, and it's only a week, you're already getting yourself interested in... them?” Allen gestured at the small group of the rich folk, owners of successful trade-houses, who had turned up for the gathering.
“Oh, I swear, Allen, if anyone there ever needed a partner for a dance, you'd be the first one there,” Farell laughed.
“I don't see much wrong in-” he started.
“Yes, yes, being the nice guy, always. Since you're usually so enthusiastic about such, how about you get us a glass or two?”
“That wit of yours, Judge deem you a servant of the Convict for that!”
Both men laughed at his comment. Allen stood, then straightened out his coat.
“Lyriannus?” he asked.
“Lyriannus.”
After Allen left, leaving Farell with only his thoughts once again, Farell found his thoughts moving from his experiences ever since having joined the Peacekeepers of Ridgeburg to his current position. His eyes wandered around the hall, stopping when he caught the girl from before once more. She was standing by the far end of the hall, engaged in conversation with the other folk, amongst them, one which he recognized as a silk merchant whose familiar face he had seen oh-so-many-times, but would never catch his name, for they have never really conversed.
Beside them was the walkway, which bore a purple carpet of which the guest-of-honour would then arrive and walk upon to his most ceremoniously decorated table. Farell had almost laughed when he saw the table, for the guest-of-honour himself would probably be not as well-decorated as the table would have been.
Allen returned to the table empty-handed, sitting himself back in the chair which he did not push back under the table moments ago when he left. “It's coming, I asked for two bottles.”
“Are you trying to get us drunk?” Farell chuckled.
“Not you, you'd probably down a those two bottles and still be able to summon forth the winds,” Allen countered lightly.
That was true, Farell thought. He found it interesting how Wind Seers alike him would generally be able to hold more liquor than most common folk. He sighed.
The valet returned with two bottles of the white wine they ordered on a tray, setting them upon the table along with two glasses. He opened one of the bottles almost skillfully, if such could be considered a skill, and half-filled both glasses. Inclining his head and murmuring something barely audible, he turned on his heels and vanished into the crowd before Allen or Farell could say anything.
“Do you ever regret joining the peacekeepers at times?” Farell asked suddenly.
Allen lowered his glass after taking a sip from it, “Perhaps once or twice, when I was as green as ever, but never. I'd figured. Nothing in life is as exhilarating and as satisfying, and the term peacekeeper itself – I have always looked up to.”
“And little did we know, when we joined that one day we would be among these well-respected people, and such a grand gathering. A pity, though, a pity...” he left his words unfinished as he sipped from his glass, savoring the flavor the bitter-sweet wine.
Allen remained silent, for he know what Farell meant.
They were peacekeepers, only recently having been promoted to stabilizers, one of the highest-ranked. A pity, though, he had meant to say, a pity that having to attend this gathering was but part of their job and not an occasion in which they could truly celebrate their promotion, for during the event, there was bound to be attempts on certain High-Merchants.
Given the situation, here was Allen and Farell, although barely showing, on high-alert, seated in as members of High-Command, however in reality, loyal Stabilizers, maintaining the order Ridgeburg has managed to hold for the many centuries.
Then, as if on prompt, everyone seated in the hall stood, and turned facing the heavy silver doors, which swung open elegantly to welcome the guest-of-honour, who stepped in, flanked by two Royal Guards. He was revealed to be the leader and representative of the High-Merchants, Sir Haryn, as Farell recognized. The enthusiastic crowd's applause echoed loudly withing the walls of the large hall as Sir Haryn walked the purple carpet, and up two shallow steps to his table, where he gave a wave of his arm.
As the applause died down, and he spoke a single line, lifting a glass of wine which was already set upon the table before he arrived, “To this beautiful evening, and to all of you!”
He drank from the glass.
Everyone lifted their glasses, and the stabilizers did as well, as they have stood along with the crowd earlier on, and drank.
As the crowd settled and began to sit themselves back down, as did Sir Haryn, Farell frowned a little, and Allen noticed it immediately, even as the expression faded.
“Why, Farell, best enjoy the time while we can,” he smiled.
The band began playing soft music, and the people began dancing on the dance floor, each with a partner. There was no need for Allen or Farell to step in yet, for part of their job, as they were ordered, was to look out for anyone, if they were isolated and to offer to dance with them. They continued drinking from their glasses.
It didn't take long, though, until the lit candles on the on the classy chandeliers blew out, and the powerful shine of the glow-stone embedded in the ceilings and along the side of the floors of the great hall faded into darkness, the stone returning to their unlit state. The band stopped playing, the crowd lapsed into silence – a sharp scream piercing the suddenly still air.
Farell's heart beat quicker, his lips dried, senses heightened by the sudden adrenaline rush as he sprang into action.
I really wanted to see this happening. Actually, I'd boil down the whole thing and condense it--start with a description of them watching carefully, looking for an attempt. Why? It's much more interesting! Then you can add the other stuff, with him watching the girl, and the entrance of the guest of honor, as the action unfolds. That way you don't have to explain that they're Peacekeepers, since it'll be obvious that they're there as some kind of law enforcement. 
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