The Fox Hunt, a Gathering of Nations (IC Empire3! Event)

[BootStrapTommy]

Spring, 1020

Rhune was an ancient city of well over four hundred thousand, having stood long before the age of Ananda and having once been the seat of an empire of its own. Huge, ancient walls encircled the inner part of the large metropolis, while the outer city seemed to sprawl in every direction around the monumental walls.

The coastal region know as Fall Harbor was once a town of its own, but it had been swallowed into the urban mass many generations past. One of the nicer wards in the city's coastal stretch, it still sat near the outskirts of the urban sprawl. Its harbor, pleasant dwellings, and proximity to the edge of the urban sprawl made it the prime location for hosting an event to that put the city's best face forward.

Tents stretch for a considerable distance along the shores outside the pleasant seaside ward, a makeshift bazaar having formed around the festivities. The majori5 of the wares on display were those of travelling Alepoúsói merchants. The markets bustled with activity, the merchants eager to capitalize on the opportunity that such a large a prestigious event would provide. Rumors spread that the Curia had invited numerous foreign dignitaries and diplomats, promising an event of a size unlike any in personal memory.

The Fox Hunt had a long and somewhat morbid history. In the days long past, it was an instrument of oppression against the Alepoúsói, where young members that race were released into the hills to be hunted by Rhunite nobility in a violent and dangerous blood sport. But the prophet Ananda had famously denounced the barbaric practice. Those it persisted in the years that followed, it drew the Church's ire. It was under Vajetamahar the Great's empire that the Church gained enough power to end the practice. However, the event soon saw a rebirth in the later days of the empire, not in its former form, but as the largest annual gather of the Alepoúsói people within the lands surrounding the Church's holiest sites.

The estate of Senator Vajet Aëtius sat at the edge of the sprawl of tents, a distance from the city and perched top some short cliffs on the shore. It was a magnificent villa with gardens and a stunning view of the sea, home of a former Equestrian whose valiant efforts as general over the Alepoúsói Auxilia had earned commission to built a large merchantile empire. An influential member of the Curia, his palatial estate was volunteered to host those foriegn dignitaries that Suzerain had extends and invitation.

The gardens of Senator Aëtius' estates were expansive and verdant endeavors, filled with colorful flowers and large artificial ponds. It was in an exquisite gazebo beside the largest of these pools that those members of the Curia assigned to host guests resided to greet arrive diplomats. Vajet Aëtius was prime among them, a large Phenite with broad shoulders. Senator Aëtius was not the most handsome of men, but he had a pleasant and trust worthy appearance, serving as a gregarious and dutiful host. Other members of the Curia of high standing joined him.

The Harbinger Maya Lepída sat near the edge of the gazebo, her vulpine eyes darting suspiciously between the foreigners arrive. She was to serve her role as the voice of the Alepoúsói to the foreign dignitaries, a role that she, as a former field officer of the Alepoúsói Auxilia, was duly unsuited for. Her eyes settled on a strange and out of place figure separated from the rest of the hosts. Clad in flowing dark garments, a remarkably tall figure stood on the other side of the large pool among some trees. A plain, expressionless ivory mask adorned the figure's face, stamped on black paint with the print of a hand.

The Phœnīx Suzerain stood staring into the waters of the pool, as guests began to arrive

[Tentreto]

Two hundred and fifty years ago, the Calis fled from the North, searching for a new homeland.

Two hundred and fifty years later, Kalus Mensus realised he would be the first noble to go back.

Kalus was a worried man, his youth, intelligence and piety all values King Anlos claimed would make a great diplomat. Left unsaid was the very important 'expendable,' and possibly 'scapegoat.' Kalus was only slightly entwined in the noble population by having his grandmother being an Insulus, one of the two highest family names. All he had to do, he was told, was point to where we are on the map, say we won't attack anyone important, and nod.

With a bump, the ship bounced against the harbour wall, knocking everyone apart from a few sailors over.
Kalus decided that if he returned, he might tell the court that the harbours are different here, and there were actually cliffs. Kalus stood up, his short fair hair glistening, and began organising his delegation to get off quickly, as well as giving the Captain a berating for crashing the ship.

Kalus and his delegation were quickly escorted to the estate of some important and apparently enterprising Senator, if judging by the location and size of the house. Although the house itself was grand, what shocked Kalus the most was the sheer size of the gardens in the area. While Kinright was somewhat arid, and towns such as Eterna were pleasant with farmable land, gardens of this size were unfathomable to him. He resisted the urge to examine the flowers, and drew his delegation together for a quick briefing.

'Kinsmen, we have arrived, the first to do so since the Calis fled and the Ligians warred. Remember, insult no one here, we are guests, and have been invited. Would you belittle your host's house or family? Ours is not the only peoples to have felt war and persecution, and these peoples have faced as many trials as us. Yet I must also ask you be honest in dealings, as without honesty, we will be marooned diplomatically.' Kalus adjusted his turquoise cloak over his white robes and drew out his silver amulet. 'And above all else, do not spit on the Church. If I find any who have, you will be deemed mad and be thrown in the sea on the way back! Am I clear?'

The delegation nodded as one, each clutching their own amulets.
Kalus turned away, and waited patiently for...he wasn't entirely sure what. But he decided it would be rude to impose on their host so soon. Thus he glanced around, anxiously. He wished he hadn't. The Phœnīx Suzerain was the first thing he saw, and that reminded him that the Caligonians were essentially new to international affairs, and he was probably the first true diplomat that had ever existed. He closed his eyes, and prepared for what was to come. He had apparently arrived first, and therefore he assigned men to watch closely each delegation that came.

[QuintonBeck]

A slender brightly festooned sailing ship, now separate from its escorting convoy so close to the docks, sailed into Fall Harbor. On its bow the ship bore a singularly brightly dressed figure whose yellow and orange robes whipped about his form in the sea breeze. The colors themselves would have been enough to identify his great standing within Zhentanna but seemingly as some deference to foreign unfamiliarity of such meaning the figure also wore a delicate crown of silver that glinted in the sun.

As the ship grew ready to disgorge its occupants and cargo the man in yellow moved to lead the official procession off the boat. As the plank extended and the man stepped down its length onto the dock the residents of Fall Harbor for the first time could see the features of this foreign visitor. The man's skin was a chestnut brown, not dissimilar to the Estates' own Phenites, but unlike the locals the man possessed wine red eyes and two small horns the size of a thumbnail protruded from beneath the silver crown. His black wavy hair was pulled behind him and twisted into three plaited braids down his back. He was mostly clean shaven showing a handsomely shaped face whose slight feminine features were negated by the short black patch of hair trailing from below the center of his lip to his chin.

Three women and three men, each "dressed" in varying states of provocative undress flanked behind and danced to a song now being struck up by an accompanying band of minstrels. As the song still rose a clear herald's voice announced his lord's arrival.

"Presenting Prince Jarah Sanu Ina Abahar, Prince of Kinneret and Zhentanna!"

Jarah smiled warmly to those who looked in his direction but maintained focus on reaching the gazebo where the host awaited his guests. Jarah led the expedition now fully accompanied by his retinue. Directly behind him his six dancing companions twirled and teased the crowd with their silky scarves. Each was a paragon of beauty, no doubt a testament to their unrecognized royal heritage, and they appeared to have been trained to embrace and utilize this beauty to the best of their ability. Behind them followed a small band, or at least small by Zhen standards. Two trumpeters, two drummers, four flutists, and a setar player played a wide selection of Zhen music intended to provide a beat for the dancers and to energize the crowd. Following behind these entertainers a few large men carried chests and boxes decorated with intricate carvings and inlays up the hill towards the Senator's gazebo.

When the procession reached the gazebo holding the host the music came to a crescendo and Jarah stepped forward to give a respectful but flourishing bow while the dancers spun out into the gazebo and attempted to find companionship among the dignitaries waiting to greet guests. The Zhen Prince raised his head from his bow and met his host's eyes as the music that had accompanied his arrival died down.

"I bring greetings and good tidings from the kingdom of Zhentanna, please allow me to thank the gracious host of this affair directly for such hospitality is well rewarded by the Zhen."

As he spoke the strong men moved forward to lay the three heavy chests down behind the smiling prince.

[Catrus]

The ship that slipped into the harbour was much like those that built, and sailed her, short, and sturdy. A fairly narrow and low hull, with armoured gunwales, and a large, thick, and heavily reinforced iron prow. The masts fell as it approached the docks, letting the oarsmen guide it in. Then the oars retracted inside the ship, and it docked at the pier.

As the crew set busying themselves about the ship, the passengers appeared above deck, and disembarked. A dozen and a half bodies stepped off the ship, and looked about. Six of whom were admiring the harbour, and the ships that laid within, while the remaining dozen surveyed for potential threats and hostiles, taking formation surrounding the six. The six muttered amongst themselves, then separated, wandering off in different directions, each set on exploring the city in their own way, each intent to discover something new and exciting to speak of back home. With the dozen rapidly dispersing into groups of two, following each of the six on their meandering journey.

Ozek Kahraman, chief diplomat for this particular voyage, took his time as he wandered about the docks, admiring the ships, their crew, and their goods, as he slowly made his way to the harbour-master's office, intent on seeing the native bureaucracy at work. Making idle chit chat with the various sailors, soldiers, merchants, and whatever other random riffraff he encountered along his way. Once he had ensured that everything was in order, and that the ship had been properly recorded in the ledgers, he set off towards the estate the invitation listed as the locale of the event and meetings. Briefly making a slight detour for a quick browse through the bustling bazaar, then a few more, slightly shorter stops, to seek directions from various guards along the way.

Arriving at the named estate, Kahraman looked around. Admiring the lush gardens, slowly making his way to where the food and drinks were being served, stopping frequently to, literally, smell the flowers.

Kahraman, dressed in a dun coloured kaftan, trimmed with brown and white fur, worn over a dark grey haubergeon shirt. With a beige and white keffiyeh loosely wrapped around his neck, and up over a simple taqiyah. Upon the thick black leather belt, worn over his kaftan, hung a large flanged mace. Almost always, but never actually, touching or dragging upon the ground. While his escorts were adorned in similar haubergeons, with cuirasses over top, and a sturdy flat topped helm. Both carrying a large thick shield, each as tall as the man that carried it, with a long handled warhammer hung at their belts, with a small crossbow fastened to their backs.

[Icilia]

Trotek Xalo wipped away a small sweet that had formed on his brow. His bare and muscular chest rippled as he held the his massive war horse in check beneath him. Both he and the nine clansmen that made up his escort had stripped off their shirts and hide armour, leaving on their heavy riding pants and boots. None of them were used to this kind of heat. Trotek simply sighed at the heat, and nudged his horse forward towards the estates. Behind him, his escort followed, leading ten fine Cryf horses to be offered as gifts.

Those at the estate heard the coming of the Mi'varan delegation long before they could see them, with the sound of some twenty plus horses thundering forward. As soon they reached the estate, all the men dismounted, and Trotek again realised how short he was. Although he stood in at over six feet, the Highlanders around him were still taller.

"Stake the horses out, or ask a servant if they have stables for them. I'm going to head inside and meet with our host." Trotek noticed the garden sprawled out before him. "And don't let the horses into the garden. I'm sure our host would be none to happy about that."

Trotek then headed inside to announce his arrival, and to offer his gifts.

[DimpleLoamsdown]

The waves of the sea seemed to grow colder as a large, black, wooden ship glided into port. The flag of Land of Bearmen flapped loudly atop the highest mast of the ship, hung over the menacing black sails of the HILBMS Ugroza. The Strongmen crew of the ship, almost melting under their furs promptly raised the sails and set the plank down with a heavy thud. The crew then stood at attention, as though waiting for something. In to straight lines parallel to the sides of the ship they stood, for several minutes, until a creaking from below deck was heard. Boris of Medved emerged from below the deck of the ship. Any men who had been slouching slightly straightened their backs instantly and any men who had been muttering to each other instantly went silent. The only sounds coming from the ship were the waving of the Bearmen flag, the rocking of the ship in the waves and the steady paces of Boris of Medved towards the center of the ship. Once he reached the center of his men, they all hopped on spot and went to their duties. Eight men followed directly behind Boris, ten men went to clean and protect the ship, and two men took fipple flutes and followed behind the first eight men, playing the national anthem of Land of Bearmen. Boris led the progression off of the ship, and towards the primary location of the event. Standing eight feet tall, Boris was far taller than any other man with him. He was clearly a very muscular man, despite being covered in layer after layer of fur cloak. Atop his balding head sat a fur hat, keeping further heat in on his body. Secretly hoping that the hosts would offer him and his men to be relieved from their cloaks, coats, hats and other furs, Boris entered the building, his face covered in sweat and his muscles tired after a long day of sailing and of training. He needed something to eat and something to drink, his men even more so.

If anything in the above is too futuristic for the setting, please feel free to let me know and I will make the appropriate edits.

[Legionary]

There are no posturing warships or flamboyant parades of trumpeters and dancers to herald the arrival of the Slavian diplomatic delegation. Instead the solemn Slavian entourage makes their reserved entrance with relative discretion. A foreboding black carriage, flanked either side by two columns of knights, makes its way through the winding cobblestone streets of Rhune to Senator Aëtius' estate. The mounted juggernauts are an imposing sight to behold, giant men silent in duty and clad in dull plate armour, adorned with iron masks that hide their battle scarred faces, riding atop mighty steeds strapped in thick barding. Small purple and black banners, the heraldry of their infamous Duchy, hang off their long lances, proudly fluttering in the coastal breeze. Their shields bear the sigil of the dreaded Von Orlok family, a menacing skull with a crown of gold atop its head. It is a grim reminder of the bloody act of regicide that had earned the sinister family their Shamaran nobility all those long centuries ago.

Having taken the long overland route from their homeland to Rhune, the journey had last just over two weeks. When the black carriage finally reaches it's destination, the splendid garden estates of Senator Aëtius, it comes to an abrupt halt. It's doors swing open and from it two young handmaidens gracefully descend from the vehicle. Their affluent attire is like a living insight into past, with Slavain fashion being based of their former Shamaran roots but often decades behind modern trends. If the unsettling rumours ring true, then the frilled collars worn by the pair of young ladies could be strategically adorned to hide their mistress' bite marks upon their soft necks.

In tow of her two her lackeys, Lady Isabella Von Orlok, steps forth from the carriage. As she does, one of the handmaiden opens a large black sun umbrella that shields her mistress from the strong evening glare. The ruling Duke of Slavia's first born child is an uncanny sight to behold, with her striking feminine beauty off set by her unsettling pale, almost corpse like, complexion. An opaque black lace veil covers her face, masking her intentions and giving the same mysterious vibe as the knights of her entourage. Ironically an intricate silver pendant depicting the holy symbol of the Shishiyan Church also hangs defiantly above her cleavage, dispelling perhaps at least one myth regarding the infamous lady. Lady Isabella pauses for moment, soaking in the atmosphere of this foreign metropolis. It was such a stark contrast to the homeland she had put behind her. The bold colours of the flowering trees, the rosy face children playing in the streets, the enticing aroma of the street vendors and their exotic dishes. It was warm, bright and welcoming. And the cold woman under that veil loathed every about it.

One of the knights, identifiable by his more ornate though equally drab in colour armour, quickly takes to Lady Isabella's side upon dismounting. Although it is difficult to confirm with his pale visage hidden behind his iron face mask, his proud stance betrays his likely identity as the Lady's cousin, Sir Letho Von Orlok the Younger. The towering armoured behemoth stands over seven foot tall, head and shoulders above his kin. He takes her seemingly fragile hand in his giant armoured paw, as the pair begin to make their way into the grounds of Senator Aëtius' estate. The steel clad knight lumbers forth, whilst Lady Isabella follows with unparalleled grace as her long dress gives her the almost unnatural impression of effortlessly gliding across the ground.

There is a frosty air of indifference surrounding the Slavians as they make no bold declarations upon their entrance. Instead Lady Isabella's narrowed eyes dart from envoy to envoy, as she silently takes in both the hosts and those fellow foreign emissaries that had already arrived. Many hailed from distant lands too far for a formerly isolationist Slavia to be concerned with. There were no neighbours here. No friends.

[DoomHat]

The Goblin King Floyd's caravan had set out from Gobsfull in early winter. It was hastily assembled under dubious circumstances, as this supposedly 'official' diplomatic visit technically constituted the newly crowned Sovereign of Goblinkind merely playing hookie from his responsibilities back home.

The journey from Bigguest'hat City in Gobsfull to the City of Rhune in The Phœnīx Estates took Floyd and his company across a vast stretch of Celessa. The road was long, winding, and weird. Incredible legends were born of the quest to survive the journey. Quite literally 'incredible' as few can lend credence to many of the absurdities endured by the journeyers and encountered locals alike.

Remarkably, the retinue gained almost as many new faces along the way as it had endured casualties. They snaked into the outer city of Rhune like some remarkable parade of cultural oddities, mercenaries, wandering expatriates from up to half a dozen lands, and of course perhaps most particular of all, armed and armored goblins. The Goblin King himself, a thin and rakish human lad, barely old enough to be considered a man (if at all), sat atop his troll driven carriage laughing and gesturing flirtatiously to those members of the city's throngs who'd gathered along the roadside to gape at the spectacle of the arriving diplomats.

After some confusion at the city's gates, the party finally reoriented itself toward the festivities fairgrounds, but made it no farther then surrounding market. The bulk of his entourage dispersed with varying levels of permanence, Floyd, surrounded by his core group of attendants, now haggles feverishly with an Alepoúsói merchant over the asking price of ship in a bottle...

Anyone feel free to contribute to GoblinKing Floyd's party. I'm going to be PMing Elemental and Technokami to make sure they know they're specifically invited to bring in their respective characters.

[BootStrapTommy]

OoC: Time bubbles, ahhoooyyyyy!!!

Two hundred and fifty years ago, the Calis fled from the North, searching for a new homeland.

Two hundred and fifty years later, Kalus Mensus realised he would be the first noble to go back.

Kalus was a worried man, his youth, intelligence and piety all values King Anlos claimed would make a great diplomat. Left unsaid was the very important 'expendable,' and possibly 'scapegoat.' Kalus was only slightly entwined in the noble population by having his grandmother being an Insulus, one of the two highest family names. All he had to do, he was told, was point to where we are on the map, say we won't attack anyone important, and nod.

With a bump, the ship bounced against the harbour wall, knocking everyone apart from a few sailors over.
Kalus decided that if he returned, he might tell the court that the harbours are different here, and there were actually cliffs. Kalus stood up, his short fair hair glistening, and began organising his delegation to get off quickly, as well as giving the Captain a berating for crashing the ship.

Kalus and his delegation were quickly escorted to the estate of some important and apparently enterprising Senator, if judging by the location and size of the house. Although the house itself was grand, what shocked Kalus the most was the sheer size of the gardens in the area. While Kinright was somewhat arid, and towns such as Eterna were pleasant with farmable land, gardens of this size were unfathomable to him. He resisted the urge to examine the flowers, and drew his delegation together for a quick briefing.

'Kinsmen, we have arrived, the first to do so since the Calis fled and the Ligians warred. Remember, insult no one here, we are guests, and have been invited. Would you belittle your host's house or family? Ours is not the only peoples to have felt war and persecution, and these peoples have faced as many trials as us. Yet I must also ask you be honest in dealings, as without honesty, we will be marooned diplomatically.' Kalus adjusted his turquoise cloak over his white robes and drew out his silver amulet. 'And above all else, do not spit on the Church. If I find any who have, you will be deemed mad and be thrown in the sea on the way back! Am I clear?'

The delegation nodded as one, each clutching their own amulets.
Kalus turned away, and waited patiently for...he wasn't entirely sure what. But he decided it would be rude to impose on their host so soon. Thus he glanced around, anxiously. He wished he hadn't. The Phœnīx Suzerain was the first thing he saw, and that reminded him that the Caligonians were essentially new to international affairs, and he was probably the first true diplomat that had ever existed. He closed his eyes, and prepared for what was to come. He had apparently arrived first, and therefore he assigned men to watch closely each delegation that came.Senator Vajet Aëtius arose from his seat within the gazebo at the sight of the first delegates to trickle into the villa, an excited look on his face. Aëtius was a plain, middle aged man, with a warm, pleasant smile. His skin was tanned like many Phenites, and his dark hair was peppered with grey. He wore the tunics common of the region, a nearly knee length shirt girded with a leather belt, a yellow band in the middle flanked by purple on the outside. His legs were clad in light colored leggings that terminated just below his nears, intricately laced saddles adorning his feet. A small thrusting sword was belted at his waist.

"Greetings, guest! I welcome you to my home, and to the City of Flame on behalf of the Curia Phœnīx and her demesnes. I am Vajet Aëtius Patria. Welcome to the Estates." He greeted the yet unannounced guest, a warm smile across his face.

Across the pool the cloaked figured stirred, slowly making the long way around the pond to the gazebo, staring at his feet as if still in contemplation.


A slender brightly festooned sailing ship, now separate from its escorting convoy so close to the docks, sailed into Fall Harbor. On its bow the ship bore a singularly brightly dressed figure whose yellow and orange robes whipped about his form in the sea breeze. The colors themselves would have been enough to identify his great standing within Zhentanna but seemingly as some deference to foreign unfamiliarity of such meaning the figure also wore a delicate crown of silver that glinted in the sun.

As the ship grew ready to disgorge its occupants and cargo the man in yellow moved to lead the official procession off the boat. As the plank extended and the man stepped down its length onto the dock the residents of Fall Harbor for the first time could see the features of this foreign visitor. The man's skin was a chestnut brown, not dissimilar to the Estates' own Phenites, but unlike the locals the man possessed wine red eyes and two small horns the size of a thumbnail protruded from beneath the silver crown. His black wavy hair was pulled behind him and twisted into three plaited braids down his back. He was mostly clean shaven showing a handsomely shaped face whose slight feminine features were negated by the short black patch of hair trailing from below the center of his lip to his chin.

Three women and three men, each "dressed" in varying states of provocative undress flanked behind and danced to a song now being struck up by an accompanying band of minstrels. As the song still rose a clear herald's voice announced his lord's arrival.

"Presenting Prince Jarah Sanu Ina Abahar, Prince of Kinneret and Zhentanna!"

Jarah smiled warmly to those who looked in his direction but maintained focus on reaching the gazebo where the host awaited his guests. Jarah led the expedition now fully accompanied by his retinue. Directly behind him his six dancing companions twirled and teased the crowd with their silky scarves. Each was a paragon of beauty, no doubt a testament to their unrecognized royal heritage, and they appeared to have been trained to embrace and utilize this beauty to the best of their ability. Behind them followed a small band, or at least small by Zhen standards. Two trumpeters, two drummers, four flutists, and a setar player played a wide selection of Zhen music intended to provide a beat for the dancers and to energize the crowd. Following behind these entertainers a few large men carried chests and boxes decorated with intricate carvings and inlays up the hill towards the Senator's gazebo.

When the procession reached the gazebo holding the host the music came to a crescendo and Jarah stepped forward to give a respectful but flourishing bow while the dancers spun out into the gazebo and attempted to find companionship among the dignitaries waiting to greet guests. The Zhen Prince raised his head from his bow and met his host's eyes as the music that had accompanied his arrival died down.

"I bring greetings and good tidings from the kingdom of Zhentanna, please allow me to thank the gracious host of this affair directly for such hospitality is well rewarded by the Zhen."

As he spoke the strong men moved forward to lay the three heavy chests down behind the smiling prince.A pleasantly surprised grin stretched across Senator Aëtius' face as an attractive, scantily clad foreign woman sat next to him unexpectedly, her eyes bearing into him. His pleasant grin turn up to the Prince he spoke, then back to the woman staring at him with expectant eyes. He let out a hardy laugh, taking the woman's hand and giving it a kiss, before he stood and returned the Prince's bow.

"The Exalted's light shine upon you, friend. I am Vajet Aëtius Patria of the Curia, and I welcome you to my home and to the City of Flame, dominus. The Zhen have honored the senate by gracing us with your presence. I hope our hospitality will suit your needs, and that your travels have seen you well." His eyes shot back to the flirtatious Zhen girl, before returning to the Prince with a nod.

Leaning against one of the pillars of the gazebo, Maya Lepída stared at the girls with barely disguised contempt, her ears lowering atop her head as her tail twitched with agitation. She was herself quite beautiful despite her alien features, and wore a green tunic of a style not unlike that of the Senator, though shorter. Over her tunic she was clad in a laminar breastplate, a large, one handed spatha at her hip. In lieu of leggings and sandals she wore over knee boots of the style common to the wandering Alepoúsó. Long, fiery red hair framed the Harbinger's pretty face, the same color as her tail and hears. The darkness in her emerald eyes softened as her gaze feel upon the prince, a mildly amused smirk beginning to form on her lips.


The ship that slipped into the harbour was much like those that built, and sailed her, short, and sturdy. A fairly narrow and low hull, with armoured gunwales, and a large, thick, and heavily reinforced iron prow. The masts fell as it approached the docks, letting the oarsmen guide it in. Then the oars retracted inside the ship, and it docked at the pier.

As the crew set busying themselves about the ship, the passengers appeared above deck, and disembarked. A dozen and a half bodies stepped off the ship, and looked about. Six of whom were admiring the harbour, and the ships that laid within, while the remaining dozen surveyed for potential threats and hostiles, taking formation surrounding the six. The six muttered amongst themselves, then separated, wandering off in different directions, each set on exploring the city in their own way, each intent to discover something new and exciting to speak of back home. With the dozen rapidly dispersing into groups of two, following each of the six on their meandering journey.

Ozek Kahraman, chief diplomat for this particular voyage, took his time as he wandered about the docks, admiring the ships, their crew, and their goods, as he slowly made his way to the harbour-master's office, intent on seeing the native bureaucracy at work. Making idle chit chat with the various sailors, soldiers, merchants, and whatever other random riffraff he encountered along his way. Once he had ensured that everything was in order, and that the ship had been properly recorded in the ledgers, he set off towards the estate the invitation listed as the locale of the event and meetings. Briefly making a slight detour for a quick browse through the bustling bazaar, then a few more, slightly shorter stops, to seek directions from various guards along the way.

Arriving at the named estate, Kahraman looked around. Admiring the lush gardens, slowly making his way to where the food and drinks were being served, stopping frequently to, literally, smell the flowers.

Kahraman, dressed in a dun coloured kaftan, trimmed with brown and white fur, worn over a dark grey haubergeon shirt. With a beige and white keffiyeh loosely wrapped around his neck, and up over a simple taqiyah. Upon the thick black leather belt, worn over his kaftan, hung a large flanged mace. Almost always, but never actually, touching or dragging upon the ground. While his escorts were adorned in similar haubergeons, with cuirasses over top, and a sturdy flat topped helm. Both carrying a large thick shield, each as tall as the man that carried it, with a long handled warhammer hung at their belts, with a small crossbow fastened to their backs."The world is a canvas, the Exalted is an artist. Such beauty does the Great One paints across the lands and in the great bounties of nature. I can see why the Senator favors such a garden. I find myself currently at a dearth of time to truly contemplate and appreciate its majesty. Strange, for time is a gift of which I have been given an abundance. What wonder fruits do men make with the gifts of the Exalted?"

The voice spoke as Kahraman stopped to smell one of the flowers. A dark clad figure stood unnoticed only a few feet away, his face not turned toward the Dağcılar as he spoke, but at a small copse of tree not far in front of him. The figure stood well over six feet in height and wore a dark grey cloak wrapped around his shoulders, a hood shielding his face from view and the cloak trailing down to his knees. The cloak framed from dark traveling clothes, a leather tunic with a coif on the shoulders and black belt atop leather pants that seemed to be swallowed up into large knee high boots.

The figure turned, revealing under the hood a pale white mask of ivory, carved into the visage of a neutral and expressionless face. A handprint of black paint was the mask's only distinguishing feature. Two eyes, eerie with nearly white iris, peered out from behind the mask, studying Kahraman. The only indications of the identity of the masked stranger was the tanned Phenite skin visible under at the neck and hands. There were no visible weapons on the tall man.

"The Exalted's blessing upon you, friend. I hope yours travels were well. Welcome to the Phœnīx Estates."

[Lord_Burch]

King Markus Huvendagar arrived at the harbor in a long, brightly colored ship; its sails were a rich gold and the body a deep red. Along the sides stood red-coated men carrying gleaming lances and wearing crossbows upon their backs; at the prow, a tall, severe man in purple and gold embroidered robes and a silver crown stood next to one much shorter man wearing he same red coats as the guards– though he wore a sword at his side rather than carrying a lance. As the ship approached the port, the duo at the front moved to disembark the ship. Two of the redcoats lead the way off the ship, followed by the king and captain, and another four redcoats finish off the procession– though two do not carry their distinctive lances, but rather hold an iron-bound chest between them.

As the group approaches, the four armed guards watch with a wary eye the water bourn groups to have preceded them. Seeing the last group to have arrived leaving the gazebo, Markus motions for the lead guards to announce him. Both pound their iron-shod lances against the path, and the right most one speaks:

"Markus Huvendagar, King of Gleiss, awaits you, Senator."

Markus steps forward, nodding his head to the Senator. "He also brings gift for His Grace the Suzerain. Franz, Gregor– the chest, please." The two men carrying the chest come forward and gently set it on the ground. One kneels down, opening it, and lifts the lid to reveal a red and gold robe delicately embroidered with fine needlework, so delicate in places that it is almost invisible.

[Catrus]

"The world is a canvas, the Exalted an artist. Such beauty does the Great One paints across the lands and in the great bounties of nature. I can see why the Senator favors such a garden. I find myself currently at a dearth of time to truly contemplate and appreciate its majesty. Strange, for time is a gift of which I have been given an abundance. What wonder fruits do men make with the gifts of the Exalted?"

The voice spoke as Kahraman stopped to smell one of the flowers. A dark clad figure stood unnoticed only a few feet away, his face not turned toward the Dağcılar as he spoke, but at a small copse of tree not far in front of him. The figure stood well over six feet in height and wore a dark grey cloak wrapped around his shoulders, a hood shielding his face from view and the cloak trailing down to his knees. The cloak framed from dark traveling clothes, a leather tunic with a coif on the shoulders and black belt atop leather pants that seemed to be swallowed up into large knee high boots.

The figure turned, revealing under the hood a pale white mask of ivory, carved into the visage of a neutral and expressionless face. A handprint of black paint was the mask's only distinguishing feature. Two eyes, eerie with nearly white iris, peered out from behind the mask, studying Kahraman. The only indications of the identity of the masked stranger was the tanned Phenite skin visible under at the neck and hands. There were no visible weapons on the tall man.

"The Exalted's blessing upon you, friend. I hope yours travels were well. Welcome to the Phœnīx Estates."
"Ah, hello. Hello. Greetings and salutations be upon you as well." Kahraman smiles at the large stranger, before making a bow. "This truly is a majestic garden. You must, please, if at all possible, pass my compliments to those responsible for it. If such a task is not beneath your station, of course. Apologies if such a suggestion offends. T'was not the intent meant. I am unfamiliar with the customs of these lands."

Kahraman, being just barely taller than four and a half feet, shields his eyes with his hand as he leans back to look up at the man. "Oh, my most sincere apologies. Where are my manners. Ozek Kahraman, would be my name. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I believe. Yes, yes. Most certainly. Of course it is." Grinning wide up at the man, as his eyes dart around taking in the colours of the flowers.

[Tentreto]

Senator Vajet Aëtius arose from his seat within the gazebo at the sight of the first delegates to trickle into the villa, an excited look on his face. Aëtius was a plain, middle aged man, with a warm, pleasant smile. His skin was tanned like many Phenites, and his dark hair was peppered with grey. He wore the tunics common of the region, a nearly knee length shirt girded with a leather belt, a yellow band in the middle flanked by purple on the outside. His legs were clad in light colored leggings that terminated just below his nears, intricately laced saddles adorning his feet. A small thrusting sword was belted at his waist.

"Greetings, guest! I welcome you to my home, and to the City of Flame on behalf of the Curia Phœnīx and her demesnes. I am Vajet Aëtius Patria. Welcome you to the Estates." He greeted the yet unannounced guest, a warm smile across his face.

Across the pool the cloaked figured stirred, slowly making the long way around the pond to the gazebo, staring at his feet as if still in contemplation.


Kalus politely gives a short bow, and smiles warmly.

"Greetings Senator, and thank you for you and your realms hospitality. I am Kalus Mensus, an emissary from King Anlos D'Aust of Caligonia. You have truly wonderful gardens here, far more vibrant than our homeland."

Kalus beckons behind him, and two men dressed in dark blue robes bring forward a small but exquisitely detailed chest lined with silver.
" To honour your hospitality, please accept this gift of silver from us. In our homeland, silver is a sign of trust and honesty, and thus we bequeath this to you as a sign of future prosperity."
Kalus pulls out a silvered key from between his robes, and unlocks the chest, revealing a mixture of silver bars, coins and bracelets.
The delegation and Kalus pull back a little after this, noting other delegations arriving.

[BootStrapTommy]

Trotek Xalo wipped away a small sweet that had formed on his brow. His bare and muscular chest rippled as he held the his massive war horse in check beneath him. Both he and the nine clansmen that made up his escort had stripped off their shirts and hide armour, leaving on their heavy riding pants and boots. None of them were used to this kind of heat. Trotek simply sighed at the heat, and nudged his horse forward towards the estates. Behind him, his escort followed, leading ten fine Cryf horses to be offered as gifts.

Those at the estate heard the coming of the Mi'varan delegation long before they could see them, with the sound of some twenty plus horses thundering forward. As soon they reached the estate, all the men dismounted, and Trotek again realised how short he was. Although he stood in at over six feet, the Highlanders around him were still taller.

"Stake the horses out, or ask a servant if they have stables for them. I'm going to head inside and meet with our host." Trotek noticed the garden sprawled out before him. "And don't let the horses into the garden. I'm sure our host would be none to happy about that."

Trotek then headed inside to announce his arrival, and to offer his gifts.Maya Lepída's ears perked up at the approach of the tall muscular man. A fanged grin crossed her face, her eyes widening and pupils dilating as the sweaty, shirtless foreigner approached. Her tail began to wag behind her as if having a mind of its own. Her examined the much taller Mi'varan with an excited look on her face.

Senator Aëtius had already stood to greet the guest, a pleasant and curious look on his face as the tall and only partial clothed outsider approached. He let out a hearty laugh.

"Greetings, friend. I welcome you to my home, and to the City of Flame on behalf of the Curia Phœnīx and her demesnes. I am Vajet Aëtius Patria. Welcome to the Estates. You look to have traveled far. Would you care for refreshments, dominus?"


The waves of the sea seemed to grow colder as a large, black, wooden ship glided into port. The flag of Land of Bearmen flapped loudly atop the highest mast of the ship, hung over the menacing black sails of the HILBMS Ugroza. The Strongmen crew of the ship, almost melting under their furs promptly raised the sails and set the plank down with a heavy thud. The crew then stood at attention, as though waiting for something. In to straight lines parallel to the sides of the ship they stood, for several minutes, until a creaking from below deck was heard. Boris of Medved emerged from below the deck of the ship. Any men who had been slouching slightly straightened their backs instantly and any men who had been muttering to each other instantly went silent. The only sounds coming from the ship were the waving of the Bearmen flag, the rocking of the ship in the waves and the steady paces of Boris of Medved towards the center of the ship. Once he reached the center of his men, they all hopped on spot and went to their duties. Eight men followed directly behind Boris, ten men went to clean and protect the ship, and two men took fipple flutes and followed behind the first eight men, playing the national anthem of Land of Bearmen. Boris led the progression off of the ship, and towards the primary location of the event. Standing eight feet tall, Boris was far taller than any other man with him. He was clearly a very muscular man, despite being covered in layer after layer of fur cloak. Atop his balding head sat a fur hat, keeping further heat in on his body. Secretly hoping that the hosts would offer him and his men to be relieved from their cloaks, coats, hats and other furs, Boris entered the building, his face covered in sweat and his muscles tired after a long day of sailing and of training. He needed something to eat and something to drink, his men even more so.

If anything in the above is too futuristic for the setting, please feel free to let me know and I will make the appropriate edits.The approach of the rather strange profession earned a look of curious confusion on the face of the Senator, as he watched them approached. If anything, the sheer size of the men was of great note, but their strange procession made them hard to not stare at. Concern crossed Aëtius' face.

"No no no. Good sir, that will not do. You're like to succumb to the heat if you keep such a heavy coat on, friend. It will not do. Come sir, take your coat off and join us in the shade by the water. I will summon refreshments for you and your men. You look to have traveled far, please take a moment to rest and relax, before the warmth goes to you heads!" He gestured to some nearby servants who hopped to obtaining the refreshments, while expectantly gesturing for the Medved dignitaries to take a seat under the gazebo.

The Harbinger held her hand up to her mouth, stifling a giggle.


There are no posturing warships or flamboyant parades of trumpeters and dancers to herald the arrival of the Slavian diplomatic delegation. Instead the solemn Slavian entourage makes their reserved entrance with relative discretion. A foreboding black carriage, flanked either side by two columns of knights, makes its way through the winding cobblestone streets of Rhune to Senator Aëtius' estate. The mounted juggernauts are an imposing sight to behold, giant men silent in duty and clad in dull plate armour, adorned with iron masks that hide their battle scarred faces, riding atop mighty steeds strapped in thick barding. Small purple and black banners, the heraldry of their infamous Duchy, hang off their long lances, proudly fluttering in the coastal breeze. Their shields bear the sigil of the dreaded Von Orlok family, a menacing skull with a crown of gold atop its head. It is a grim reminder of the bloody act of regicide that had earned the sinister family their Shamaran nobility all those long centuries ago.

Having taken the long overland route from their homeland to Rhune, the journey had last just over two weeks. When the black carriage finally reaches it's destination, the splendid garden estates of Senator Aëtius, it comes to an abrupt halt. It's doors swing open and from it two young handmaidens gracefully descend from the vehicle. Their affluent attire is like a living insight into past, with Slavain fashion being based of their former Shamaran roots but often decades behind modern trends. If the unsettling rumours ring true, then the frilled collars worn by the pair of young ladies could be strategically adorned to hide their mistress' bite marks upon their soft necks.

In tow of her two her lackeys, Lady Isabella Von Orlok, steps forth from the carriage. As she does, one of the handmaiden opens a large black sun umbrella that shields her mistress from the strong evening glare. The ruling Duke of Slavia's first born child is an uncanny sight to behold, with her striking feminine beauty off set by her unsettling pale, almost corpse like, complexion. An opaque black lace veil covers her face, masking her intentions and giving the same mysterious vibe as the knights of her entourage. Ironically an intricate silver pendant depicting the holy symbol of the Shishiyan Church also hangs defiantly above her cleavage, dispelling perhaps at least one myth regarding the infamous lady. Lady Isabella pauses for moment, soaking in the atmosphere of this foreign metropolis. It was such a stark contrast to the homeland she had put behind her. The bold colours of the flowering trees, the rosy face children playing in the streets, the enticing aroma of the street vendors and their exotic dishes. It was warm, bright and welcoming. And the cold woman under that veil loathed every about it.

One of the knights, identifiable by his more ornate though equally drab in colour armour, quickly takes to Lady Isabella's side upon dismounting. Although it is difficult to confirm with his pale visage hidden behind his iron face mask, his proud stance betrays his likely identity as the Lady's cousin, Sir Letho Von Orlok the Younger. The towering armoured behemoth stands over seven foot tall, head and shoulders above his kin. He takes her seemingly fragile hand in his giant armoured paw, as the pair begin to make their way into the grounds of Senator Aëtius' estate. The steel clad knight lumbers forth, whilst Lady Isabella follows with unparalleled grace as her long dress gives her the almost unnatural impression of effortlessly gliding across the ground.

There is a frosty air of indifference surrounding the Slavians as they make no bold declarations upon their enterance. Instead Lady Isabella's narrowed eyes dart from envoy to envoy, as she silently takes in both the hosts and those fellow foreign essaries that had already arrived. Many hailed from distant lands too far for a formerly isolationist Slavia to be concerned with. There were no neighbours here. No friends.The Senator eyed the somber newcomers with concern. It was awfully hot for such extraneous attire, and it was not the first experience he had had with foreigners seemingly unaware of the Demesne's climate. He stood, to greet the foreigners, when a hand rested on his shoulder. He turned to see the Suzerain himself standing next to him.

"I shall handle these guests, Senator."

The tall, darkly clad masked ruler approached the Slavians, his clothes as extraneous and dark as their own. He halted in front of the two Von Orloks. The gaze of his white eyes rose to Sir Letho, then fell back to Lady Isabella. He bowed, taking the Lady's hand and bringing up to the lips carved into his mask as if he were kissing.

"Greetings, Lady Isabella. The Exalted's grace be upon you. You honor us with you presence today. You've traveled a long way, I hope you traveled well. I am the Suzerain of the Curia Phœnīx. I welcome you to the City of Flame."

His white eyes seemed to pierce the veil Isabella was wearing, studying the Slavian's facial features intently for moment.

"You bear an uncanny resemblance to your grandmother. Has anyone ever told you that, my Lady?"

In the gazebo, the Harbinger stared at the Slavians with hawkish eyes and an uneasy look on her face.

[BootStrapTommy]

The Goblin King Floyd's caravan had set out from Gobsfull in early winter. It was hastily assembled under dubious circumstances, as this supposedly 'official' diplomatic visit technically constituted the newly crowned Sovereign of Goblinkind merely playing hookie from his responsibilities back home.

The journey from Bigguest'hat City in Gobsfull to the City of Rhune in The Phœnīx Estates took Floyd and his company across a vast stretch of Celessa. The road was long, winding, and weird. Incredible legends were born of the quest to survive the journey. Quite literally 'incredible' as few can lend credence to many of the absurdities endured by the journeyers and encountered locals alike.

Remarkably, the retinue gained almost as many new faces along the way as it had endured casualties. They snaked into the outer city of Rhune like some remarkable parade of cultural oddities, mercenaries, wandering expatriates from up to half a dozen lands, and of course perhaps most particular of all, armed and armored goblins. The Goblin King himself, a thin and rakish human lad, barely old enough to be considered a man (if at all), sat atop his troll driven carriage laughing and gesturing flirtatiously to those members of the city's throngs who'd gathered along the roadside to gape at the spectacle of the arriving diplomats.

After some confusion at the city's gates, the party finally reoriented itself toward the festivities fairgrounds, but made it no farther then surrounding market. The bulk of his entourage dispersed with varying levels of permanence, Floyd, surrounded by his core group of attendants, now haggles feverishly with an Alepoúsói merchant over the asking price of ship in a bottle...

Anyone feel free to contribute to GoblinKing Floyd's party. I'm going to be PMing Elemental and Technokami to make sure they know they're specifically invited to bring in their respective characters.The Alepoúsói merchant looked at the Goblin King incredulously. His eyes shot to small entourage accompanying the boy, confusing falling over his face. He turned his gaze back to the young boy.

"I-I... I only accept silver and good, young sir. I can't accept that as payment with that. I don't even know what I'd do with that. I... I have a family to feed. That... I..."

You left it kind of open there, wasn't sure what to do. Feel free to pick what weird thing the GK is trying to pay in.

King Markus Huvendagar arrived at the harbor in a long, brightly colored ship; its sails were a rich gold and the body a deep red. Along the sides stood red-coated men carrying gleaming lances and wearing crossbows upon their backs; at the prow, a tall, severe man in purple and gold embroidered robes and a silver crown stood next to one much shorter man wearing he same red coats as the guards– though he wore a sword at his side rather than carrying a lance. As the ship approached the port, the duo at the front moved to disembark the ship. Two of the redcoats lead the way off the ship, followed by the king and captain, and another four redcoats finish off the procession– though two do not carry their distinctive lances, but rather hold an iron-bound chest between them.

As the group approaches, the four armed guards watch with a wary eye the water bourn groups to have preceded them. Seeing the last group to have arrived leaving the gazebo, Markus motions for the lead guards to announce him. Both pound their iron-shod lances against the path, and the right most one speaks:

"Markus Huvendagar, King of Gleiss, awaits you, Senator."

Markus steps forward, nodding his head to the Senator. "He also brings gift for His Grace the Suzerain. Franz, Gregor– the chest, please." The two men carrying the chest come forward and gently set it on the ground. One kneels down, opening it, and lifts the lid to reveal a red and gold robe delicately embroidered with fine needlework, so delicate in places that it is almost invisible.The Senator cordially approached the dignitaries from Gleiss. He smiled at the attending ruler, bowing before him.

"Greetings and salutations, dominus. I am Vajet Aëtius Patria, and I am honored to have you in my home today. I hope your travels have treated you well, and that you find our hospitality fitting. As for your gifts," his eyes darted around the gazebo, as if searching, "I fear that the Suzerain is quite prone to disappearing, I fear. I thank you on his behalf and on behalf of the whole Curia."

He turned to the Harbinger, a concerned and annoyed look on his face.

"Harbinger Maya, would you be so kind as to locate the Suzerain. He was here just a minute ago."

The Alepoúsói rose from her seat with an amused smile, turning and head off into the garden without a word. The Senator returned his gaze to the king, a pleasant smile on his face.

"Care for something to eat or drink, dominus?"


"Ah, hello. Hello. Greetings and salutations be upon you as well." Kahraman smiles at the large stranger, before making a bow. "This truly is a majestic garden. You must, please, if at all possible, pass my compliments to those responsible for it. If such a task is not beneath your station, of course. Apologies if such a suggestion offends. T'was not the intent meant. I am unfamiliar with the customs of these lands."

Kahraman, being just barely taller than four and a half feet, shields his eyes with his hand as he leans back to look up at the man. "Oh, my most sincere apologies. Where are my manners. Ozek Kahraman, would be my name. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I believe. Yes, yes. Most certainly. Of course it is." Grinning wide up at the man, as his eyes dart around taking in the colours of the flowers."I'll admit, I do not know who is responsible for the gardens, though I suspect Senator Aëtius does. These are his gardens, after all. I'm sure he would be willing to pass your compliments to the gardeners, as he has always been one of the more vocal advocates for the Plebeians in the Curia."

The figure looked down at the small man, as Kahraman introduced himself. He returned the bow. "A pleasure to meet you, Ozek Kahraman. I'll admit, it has been a time since I had a use for names, and as such I am lacking in one. But I am known as the Suzerain of the Curia Phœnīx. Welcome to the Estates, friend. I do hope your travels have been well, and that so far the City of Flame has been as much to your liking as the Senator's gardens."


Kalus politely gives a short bow, and smiles warmly.

"Greetings Senator, and thank you for you and your realms hospitality. I am Kalus Mensus, an emissary from King Anlos D'Aust of Caligonia. You have truly wonderful gardens here, far more vibrant than our homeland."

Kalus beckons behind him, and two men dressed in dark blue robes bring forward a small but exquisitely detailed chest lined with silver.
" To honour your hospitality, please accept this gift of silver from us. In our homeland, silver is a sign of trust and honesty, and thus we bequeath this to you as a sign of future prosperity."
Kalus pulls out a silvered key from between his robes, and unlocks the chest, revealing a mixture of silver bars, coins and bracelets.
The delegation and Kalus pull back a little after this, noting other delegations arriving.The Senator smiled appreciatively at the gesture.

"Thank you, dominus. I fear that my only contribution to this beauty is the money that paid for it. It is the work of the very skilled and verdant hands of a number of talent gardeners. I will be sure to pass along your praises, Kalus Mesus."

Behind him the dark clad figure had made his way around the pool, and now approached the delegation. An ivory mask stamped with a black hand print peered out from under his hood, white eyes studying the Caligonians, as he approached.

"You have my utmost gratitude for the gift, Kalus Mensus," the masked man said from behind his mask, "I do hope that the Curia and I will live up to such ideals in our future dealings with you nations."

The Senator shot his gaze over to the Suzerain, then back to their guests.

"*Ahem* Kalus Mensus, may I introducing you to the Suzerain of the Curia Phœnīx?"

"Caligonia honors us with your presence, friend."

[Mechalich]

Fena Mazam chose her steps carefully as she followed her Saru-Kisi bodyguard down the gangplank to the pier. Normally surefooted, she had found the seaborne passage a true trial, and remained anxious to have solid ground under her feet again. She knew the valiant warrior and her handmaiden, her only accompaniment, had suffered far worse, but that had borne up stoically and she would never dishonor them as to mention such difficulties. For her part she was happy to leave the chartered merchant ship behind. The Amadin were not people of the waves, and she was no exception.

The richness of this city of Rhune had not gone unnoticed by the Princess as they passed into the harbor. Such a verdant place, bursting with color and filled with immense throngs of people. She recognized holy places in the distance, images burned into her mind from scared paintings, but nothing had prepared her for the incredible size of the city. There was no avoiding comparison with her homeland’s capital, or how small this place made it look by comparison.

Forcing aside such thoughts, the princess moved to address matters at hand. She ordered her handmaid to hire transport for her effects – a single chest for her and a military bag for the Saru-Kisi, the great ibex had been alas, left at home – and then began the journey to the named estate. They were not a procession, but still moved easily and quickly. People moved aside for the Saru-Kisi, who wore his full cavalry armor and carried the heavy sabre at his side, untroubled by the day’s heat. Fena and her maid followed close behind, walking easily under their own power. The mild climb through the city was of no trouble to either one.
Though her maid gawked openly at the wonders of this ancient holy city, Fena kept her face a studied mask. She noted that while many noticed her guardian, few turned their eyes to the princess herself. Her dress was no doubt much of that, beige linen, covering from toes to neck, and her head wrapped in a scarf above, it was subdued compared to this place. Never mind that it was extensively embroidered by master artisans. She did not much mind, she was here to conduct the business of states, with her father’s confidence, not to flaunt her modest charms.

Others had already arrived by the time they completed their journey. Fena had her guard announce her to the estate’s staff, but for her part waited until the Senator was free to offer Yssa's proper greetings in the name of the Exalted.

[QuintonBeck]

A pleasantly surprised grin stretched across Senator Aëtius' face as an attractive, scantily clad foreign woman sat next unexpectedly, her eyes bearing into him. His pleasant grin turn up to the Prince he spoke, then back to the woman staring at him with expectant eyes. He let out a hardy laugh, taking the woman's hand and giving it a kiss, before he stood and returned the Prince's bow.

"The Exalted's light shine upon you, friend. I am Vajet Aëtius Patria of the Curia, and I welcome you to my home and to the City of Flame, dominus. The Zhen have honored the senate by gracing us with your presence. I hope our hospitality will suit your needs, and that your travels have seen you well." His eyes shot back to the flirtatious Zhen girl, before returning to the Prince with a nod.

Leaning against one of the pillars of the gazebo, Maya Lepída stared at the girls with barely disguised contempt, her ears lowering atop her head as her tail twitched with agitation. She was herself quite beautiful despite her alien features, and wore a green tunic of a style not unlike that of the Senator, though shorter. Over her tunic she was clad in a laminar breastplate, a large, one handed spatha at her hip. In lieu of leggings and sandals she wore over knee boots of the style common to the wandering Alepoúsó. Long, fiery red hair framed the Harbinger's pretty face, the same color as her tail and hears. The darkness in her emerald eyes softened as her gaze feel upon the prince, a mildly amused smirk beginning to form on her lips.


Jarah spared a glance towards Liora, the dancer who flirted directly with Sentator Vajet. She was his half sister by his father's issue but she had not been born with the signs of royalty. Her eyes were a dark brown and she had no sign of horns at her brow. Though she benefited from the royal line's beauty too much common blood ran through her. Part of Jarah's mission in attending this gathering was to find those who might infuse a renewed power to the bloodline and he wondered whether the Senator before him possessed such natural power and if so if a diluted carrier such as Liora could bring it forth.

"And may the Exalted's light shine upon you, friend. This is a fine home, Senator and from what I have seen you rule a fine city and expanse. We shall make ourselves hospitable in return for your generous hospitality as is our way," the Prince smiled as the Senator turned to look again towards Liora, "Allow me to present to you a collection of gifts to better unite our realms."

As he spoke the boxes were opened to reveal a menagerie of gifts. Tablets inscribed with hieroglyphs and parchment bearing letters of the common tongue filled one chest while another contained packages of dried Bhatana flowers for use in concocting Blue Tea. The third box was empty when it was opened and as its emptiness was revealed the Prince spoke up.

"We bring as gifts a collection of our greatest stories and knowledge including transcription of our language into the common tongue and the long history of our people. We also bring our greatest export, the Bahatana Flower, prepared for brewing into Blue Tea. We hope it is found to be as enjoyable by your people as it is by ours. We also bring an empty chest in the hopes that you might fill it with your own knowledge and stories over these next years and that when you are invited to sail down the Ufratu to mine or my my brothers' city that we may return your hospitality it might be returned."



King Markus Huvendagar arrived at the harbor in a long, brightly colored ship; its sails were a rich gold and the body a deep red. Along the sides stood red-coated men carrying gleaming lances and wearing crossbows upon their backs; at the prow, a tall, severe man in purple and gold embroidered robes and a silver crown stood next to one much shorter man wearing he same red coats as the guards– though he wore a sword at his side rather than carrying a lance. As the ship approached the port, the duo at the front moved to disembark the ship. Two of the redcoats lead the way off the ship, followed by the king and captain, and another four redcoats finish off the procession– though two do not carry their distinctive lances, but rather hold an iron-bound chest between them.

As the group approaches, the four armed guards watch with a wary eye the water bourn groups to have preceded them. Seeing the last group to have arrived leaving the gazebo, Markus motions for the lead guards to announce him. Both pound their iron-shod lances against the path, and the right most one speaks:

"Markus Huvendagar, King of Gleiss, awaits you, Senator."

Markus steps forward, nodding his head to the Senator. "He also brings gift for His Grace the Suzerain. Franz, Gregor– the chest, please." The two men carrying the chest come forward and gently set it on the ground. One kneels down, opening it, and lifts the lid to reveal a red and gold robe delicately embroidered with fine needlework, so delicate in places that it is almost invisible.

Having concluded their business with the Senator the Zhen party had dispersed into the party. The majority of the dancers and band had quickly found fellow revelers and disappeared into the crowd. The two men who'd carried the boxes ashore remained near the Prince though attempted to keep a suspicious and nonthreatening distance. This left Jarah alone with Liora who had remained with him.

"Is your wife coming?" Liora said with a grin as she swung from the Prince's arm.

"Is your son?" he answered coldly hoping to end their conversation but receiving instead only a pursed lip smile.

He scanned the crowds looking for a specific banner that would signify the Kingdom of Gleiss. Aside from finding families worth testing for addition to the royal line the Prince was determined to answer the growing demand for dyes within the kingdom. From what he had heard in the tales and reports from the kingdom's explorers Gleiss was the kingdom who might be capable of supplying what he needed.

"Who are you looking for?" Liora's voice chimed in again.

"Would you let me look? I'm looking for the Kingdom of Gleiss, they have a bright banner. Yellow, gold, red, green, blue, and violet. Help me look and be silent."

"Who are they?" Liora pointed over towards a dark clump of purple and black banners and Jarah's eyes followed.


There are no posturing warships or flamboyant parades of trumpeters and dancers to herald the arrival of the Slavian diplomatic delegation. Instead the solemn Slavian entourage makes their reserved entrance with relative discretion. A foreboding black carriage, flanked either side by two columns of knights, makes its way through the winding cobblestone streets of Rhune to Senator Aëtius' estate. The mounted juggernauts are an imposing sight to behold, giant men silent in duty and clad in dull plate armour, adorned with iron masks that hide their battle scarred faces, riding atop mighty steeds strapped in thick barding. Small purple and black banners, the heraldry of their infamous Duchy, hang off their long lances, proudly fluttering in the coastal breeze. Their shields bear the sigil of the dreaded Von Orlok family, a menacing skull with a crown of gold atop its head. It is a grim reminder of the bloody act of regicide that had earned the sinister family their Shamaran nobility all those long centuries ago.

Having taken the long overland route from their homeland to Rhune, the journey had last just over two weeks. When the black carriage finally reaches it's destination, the splendid garden estates of Senator Aëtius, it comes to an abrupt halt. It's doors swing open and from it two young handmaidens gracefully descend from the vehicle. Their affluent attire is like a living insight into past, with Slavain fashion being based of their former Shamaran roots but often decades behind modern trends. If the unsettling rumours ring true, then the frilled collars worn by the pair of young ladies could be strategically adorned to hide their mistress' bite marks upon their soft necks.

In tow of her two her lackeys, Lady Isabella Von Orlok, steps forth from the carriage. As she does, one of the handmaiden opens a large black sun umbrella that shields her mistress from the strong evening glare. The ruling Duke of Slavia's first born child is an uncanny sight to behold, with her striking feminine beauty off set by her unsettling pale, almost corpse like, complexion. An opaque black lace veil covers her face, masking her intentions and giving the same mysterious vibe as the knights of her entourage. Ironically an intricate silver pendant depicting the holy symbol of the Shishiyan Church also hangs defiantly above her cleavage, dispelling perhaps at least one myth regarding the infamous lady. Lady Isabella pauses for moment, soaking in the atmosphere of this foreign metropolis. It was such a stark contrast to the homeland she had put behind her. The bold colours of the flowering trees, the rosy face children playing in the streets, the enticing aroma of the street vendors and their exotic dishes. It was warm, bright and welcoming. And the cold woman under that veil loathed every about it.

One of the knights, identifiable by his more ornate though equally drab in colour armour, quickly takes to Lady Isabella's side upon dismounting. Although it is difficult to confirm with his pale visage hidden behind his iron face mask, his proud stance betrays his likely identity as the Lady's cousin, Sir Letho Von Orlok the Younger. The towering armoured behemoth stands over seven foot tall, head and shoulders above his kin. He takes her seemingly fragile hand in his giant armoured paw, as the pair begin to make their way into the grounds of Senator Aëtius' estate. The steel clad knight lumbers forth, whilst Lady Isabella follows with unparalleled grace as her long dress gives her the almost unnatural impression of effortlessly gliding across the ground.

There is a frosty air of indifference surrounding the Slavians as they make no bold declarations upon their entrance. Instead Lady Isabella's narrowed eyes dart from envoy to envoy, as she silently takes in both the hosts and those fellow foreign emissaries that had already arrived. Many hailed from distant lands too far for a formerly isolationist Slavia to be concerned with. There were no neighbours here. No friends.


Maya Lepída's ears perked up at the approach of the tall muscular man. A fanged grin crossed her face, her eyes widening and pupils dilating as the sweaty, shirtless foreigner approached. Her tall began to wag behind her as if having a mind of its own. Her examined the much taller Mi'varan with an excited look on her face.

Senator Aëtius had already stood to greet the guest, a pleasant and curious look on his face as the tall and only partial clothed outsider approached. He let out a hearty laugh.

"Greetings, friend. I welcome you to my home, and to the City of Flame on behalf of the Curia Phœnīx and her demesnes. I am Vajet Aëtius Patria. Welcome to the Estates. You look to have traveled far. Would you care for refreshments, dominus?"

The approach of the rather strange profession earned a look of curious confusion on the face of the Senator, as he watched them approached. If anything, the sheer size of the men was of great note, but their strange procession made them hard to not stare at. Concern crossed Aëtius' face.

"No no no. Good sir, that will not do. You're like to succumb to the heat if you keep such a heavy coat on, friend. It will not do. Come sir, take your coat off and join us in the shade by the water. I will summon refreshments for you and your men. You look to have traveled far, please take a moment to rest and relax, before the warmth goes to you heads!" He gestured to some nearby servants who hopped to obtaining the refreshments, while expectantly gesturing for the Medved dignitaries to take a seat under the gazebo.

The Harbinger held her hand up to her mouth, stifling a giggle.

The Senator eyed the somber newcomers with concern. It was awfully hot for such extraneous attire, and it was not the first experience he had had with foreigners seemingly unaware of the Demesne's climate. He stood, to greet the foreigners, when a hand rested on his shoulder. He turned to see the Suzerain himself standing next to him.

"I shall handle these guests, Senator."

The tall, darkly clad masked ruler approached the Slavians, his clothes as extraneous and dark as their own. He halted in front of the two Von Orloks. The gaze of his white eyes rose to Sir Letho, then fell back to Lady Isabella. He bowed, taking the Lady's hand and bringing up to the lips carved into his mask as if he were kissing.

"Greetings, Lady Isabella. The Exalted's grace be upon you. You honor us with you presence today. You've traveled a long way, I hope you traveled well. I am the Suzerain of the Curia Phœnīx. I welcome you to the City of Flame."

His white eyes seemed to pierce the veil Isabella was wearing, studying the Slavian's facial features intently for moment.

"You bear an uncanny resemblance to your grandmother. Has anyone ever told you that, my Lady?"

In the gazebo, the Harbinger stared at the Slavians with hawkish eyes and an uneasy look on her face.

Jarah was about to admonish Liora for clearly failing to recognize simple colors but he found his eyes drawn towards the otherworldly mistress who seemingly headed the delegation. Jarah had never been like his brothers or his father so easily swept up in a pretty face or a nice set of hips. He had taken few consorts and while his wife and he got on well enough, certainly better than the King and Queen, they were hardly in love as Prince Noham and Princess Celeste seemingly were. Yet, when he looked upon the pale visage of this strange woman he felt something stir inside him. He wasn't sure if it was love or fear that struck such a chord but he wished to draw closer to its source.

He grabbed Liora's hand and pulled her forward through the crowd. As they reached the dark entourage the Suzerain arrived and the Prince halted. He did not wish to disrupt or disrespect the sovereign or his host but nor could he allow this woman to escape. He resolved to wait near the edge of the delegation until such time as was appropriate to approach.

[BootStrapTommy]

Fena Mazam chose her steps carefully as she followed her Saru-Kisi bodyguard down the gangplank to the pier. Normally surefooted, she had found the seaborne passage a true trial, and remained anxious to have solid ground under her feet again. She knew the valiant warrior and her handmaiden, her only accompaniment, had suffered far worse, but that had borne up stoically and she would never dishonor them as to mention such difficulties. For her part she was happy to leave the chartered merchant ship behind. The Amadin were not people of the waves, and she was no exception.

The richness of this city of Rhune had not gone unnoticed by the Princess as they passed into the harbor. Such a verdant place, bursting with color and filled with immense throngs of people. She recognized holy places in the distance, images burned into her mind from scared paintings, but nothing had prepared her for the incredible size of the city. There was no avoiding comparison with her homeland’s capital, or how small this place made it look by comparison.

Forcing aside such thoughts, the princess moved to address matters at hand. She ordered her handmaid to hire transport for her effects – a single chest for her and a military bag for the Saru-Kisi, the great ibex had been alas, left at home – and then began the journey to the named estate. They were not a procession, but still moved easily and quickly. People moved aside for the Saru-Kisi, who wore his full cavalry armor and carried the heavy sabre at his side, untroubled by the day’s heat. Fena and her maid followed close behind, walking easily under their own power. The mild climb through the city was of no trouble to either one.
Though her maid gawked openly at the wonders of this ancient holy city, Fena kept her face a studied mask. She noted that while many noticed her guardian, few turned their eyes to the princess herself. Her dress was no doubt much of that, beige linen, covering from toes to neck, and her head wrapped in a scarf above, it was subdued compared to this place. Never mind that it was extensively embroidered by master artisans. She did not much mind, she was here to conduct the business of states, with her father’s confidence, not to flaunt her modest charms.

Others had already arrived by the time they completed their journey. Fena had her guard announce her to the estate’s staff, but for her part waited until the Senator was free to offer Yssa's proper greetings in the name of the Exalted.The Amadin guests were directed to approach as the Senator was freed of obligation to another guest, his pleasant smile beaming at Fena Mazam as her and her entourage approached.

"Welcome, friends! I am Vajet Aëtius Patria, welcome to my home. I do hope you have so far found the City of Flame pleasant, and I hope you will continue to enjoy your stay."

The Suzerain stood within the gazebo, his back turned as he stared into the waters of the pool. He pivoted a little to see the new guests arrive, eventually turning and delivering a short, curt bow to the Amadin delegation. His white eyes stared intently at Fen under his mask.

"May the light of the Exalted shine upon you, friends. I hope you traveled well and I echo the Senator's hopes that your stay will be to your liking."

Aëtius turned to look at the Suzerain as he joined, before his gaze fell back onto Fena.

"May I introduce the esteemed Suzerain of the Curia Phœnīx, Dux of the Estates?"


Jarah spared a glance towards Liora, the dancer who flirted directly with Sentator Vajet. She was his half sister by his father's issue but she had not been born with the signs of royalty. Her eyes were a dark brown and she had no sign of horns at her brow. Though she benefited from the royal line's beauty too much common blood ran through her. Part of Jarah's mission in attending this gathering was to find those who might infuse a renewed power to the bloodline and he wondered whether the Senator before him possessed such natural power and if so if a diluted carrier such as Liora could bring it forth.

"And may the Exalted's light shine upon you, friend. This is a fine home, Senator and from what I have seen you rule a fine city and expanse. We shall make ourselves hospitable in return for your generous hospitality as is our way," the Prince smiled as the Senator turned to look again towards Liora, "Allow me to present to you a collection of gifts to better unite our realms."

As he spoke the boxes were opened to reveal a menagerie of gifts. Tablets inscribed with hieroglyphs and parchment bearing letters of the common tongue filled one chest while another contained packages of dried Bhatana flowers for use in concocting Blue Tea. The third box was empty when it was opened and as its emptiness was revealed the Prince spoke up.

"We bring as gifts a collection of our greatest stories and knowledge including transcription of our language into the common tongue and the long history of our people. We also bring our greatest export, the Bahatana Flower, prepared for brewing into Blue Tea. We hope it is found to be as enjoyable by your people as it is by ours. We also bring an empty chest in the hopes that you might fill it with your own knowledge and stories over these next years and that when you are invited to sail down the Ufratu to mine or my my brothers' city that we may return your hospitality it might be returned."The Senator smiled, sinking back into his seat beside Liora, his gaze falling on her as the gifts were presented. His smile widened, his hand gesturing a signal to a nearby servant to fetch food and drink for the new arrivals.

"On behalf of the Curia, I thank you, Prince Jarah. You gifts are most appreciated."

A tall, dark figure emerged from the tree near the edge of the gazebo. His arm was held up, a large avian perched on his forearm, its eyes darting curiously between those present. It was a large raptor, possessing of maroon colored feathers with orange and yellow edges. Long flowing tail feathers draped down from it's tail. The figure, whose face was hidden behind an ivory mask, settled next to the Harbinger, his eyes darting from the Alepoúsó to the bird. Maya looked at the bird with some wonder on her face.

"I coaxed in out of a tree over there. A rather magnificent specimen, apparently took residence in the garden."

"Oh, Suzerain, how fortunate. May I introduce you to the Prince of Kinneret and Zhentanna. He bears gifts, dominus. Stories, books, and a flower from his lands. Prince, may I introduce you to the Suzerain of the Curia Phœnīx, the Dux of the Phœnīx Estates?"

The Suzerain's white eyes fell upon the Senator, then darted around the gazebo suddenly aware of the many ladies of Zhentanna. His eyes soon fell upon the Prince, though not his face but his forehead. They lingered there for a moment, before moving onto the gifts. The Suzerain stepped forward, his eyes fixed upon the chest of knowledge. He stepped forward, the bird hopping up his arm to his shoulder as her got close to the Prince. His eyes finally came up to meet Jarah's gaze.

"Well meet, Prince Jarah Sanu Ina Abahar. I hope that the Exalted saw your travels well, and that your visit has been pleasant, and will continue to be."

[Icilia]

Maya Lepída's ears perked up at the approach of the tall muscular man. A fanged grin crossed her face, her eyes widening and pupils dilating as the sweaty, shirtless foreigner approached. Her tall began to wag behind her as if having a mind of its own. Her examined the much taller Mi'varan with an excited look on her face.

Senator Aëtius had already stood to greet the guest, a pleasant and curious look on his face as the tall and only partial clothed outsider approached. He let out a hearty laugh.

"Greetings, friend. I welcome you to my home, and to the City of Flame on behalf of the Curia Phœnīx and her demesnes. I am Vajet Aëtius Patria. Welcome to the Estates. You look to have traveled far. Would you care for refreshments, dominus?"

Trotek nods to the Senator, spending a few moments thinking on the word Dominus, and simply hopes that he guesses it's meaning correctly.

"Many thanks be upon your house and kin, Bey Vajet. I am Emir Trotek Xalo, son of Khan Vvtkian Xalo, of Mi'vara. The esteemed Khan sends with me a gift of ten of our finest Cryfen Horses." Trotek pauses, takes a breath and lets out a hearty laugh. "Ah. Now that those pleasantries are done, yes, I will take those refreshments. This land is much warmer than I am used to. My men too could use drinks."

Trotek moves on to allow the Senator to speak with others, and makes his way to Maya.

"Greetings, mine Behi. Bey Vajet seems busy at this moment. Perhaps you could be my guide to baths or at least something to clean up with. I have been on the road for many days, and should probably clean up before meeting other leaders. My father insisted I make a good impression. Oh, were are my manners. I am Emir Trotek Xalo." Trotek bowed deeply at the end.

[Catrus]

"I'll admit, I do not know who is responsible for the gardens, though I suspect Senator Aëtius does. These are his gardens, after all. I'm sure he would be willing to pass your compliments to the gardeners, as he has always been one of the more vocal advocates for the Plebeians in the Curia."

The figure looked down at the small man, as Kahraman introduced himself. He returned the bow. "A pleasure to meet you, Ozek Kahraman. I'll admit, it has been a time since I had a use for names, and as such I am lacking in one. But I am known as the Suzerain of the Curia Phœnīx. Welcome to the Estates, friend. I do hope your travels have been well, and that so far the City of Flame has been as much to your liking as the Senator's gardens."
"Ah, yes, Senator Aëtius. Aëtius... Aëtius... yes." Kahraman practised the unfamiliar name, trying to ensure proper pronunciation. "You said that you were the 'Suzerain,' was it? Hmm, that sounds familiar. Suzerain... I am sure that I have heard that before... one moment, please."

Kahraman reached inside his kaftan, withdrew a small book, and began flipping through the pages. "Ah, yes. Yes. Here it is. 'Suzerain,' yes. It says that you are... oh..." Kahraman quickly gave a deep sweeping bow, then stuffed the book back inside its pocket. "Apologies, m'Lord. Yes, yes. Most sincere and heartfelt apologies. Please forgive me, I had mistaken you for... well, it matters not what. Just that I have made a most egregious error."

[BootStrapTommy]

Trotek nods to the Senator, spending a few moments thinking on the word Dominus, and simply hopes that he guesses it's meaning correctly.

"Many thanks be upon your house and kin, Bey Vajet. I am Emir Trotek Xalo, son of Khan Vvtkian Xalo, of Mi'vara. The esteemed Khan sends with me a gift of ten of our finest Cryfen Horses." Trotek pauses, takes a breath and lets out a hearty laugh. "Ah. Now that those pleasantries are done, yes, I will take those refreshments. This land is much warmer than I am used to. My men too could use drinks."

Trotek moves on to allow the Senator to speak with others, and makes his way to Maya.

"Greetings, mine Behi. Bey Vajet seems busy at this moment. Perhaps you could be my guide to baths or at least something to clean up with. I have been on the road for many days, and should probably clean up before meeting other leaders. My father insisted I make a good impression. Oh, were are my manners. I am Emir Trotek Xalo." Trotek bowed deeply at the end.The Senator let out a humor filled laugh.

"I thought as much. I will see to it that you and your men are provided with food and drink, Emir. And I thank you and your father for the gift of horses. They will be prized and well taken care of."

The Senator turned to speak with some of his attendants to arrange for food and drink to be brought to the Mi'varan delegations.

Maya's eyes seemed to grow wider as the Mi'varan approached, blushing at the realization that she had been staring. She swallowed hard as she looked up at the man, who almost stood head and shoulders above him. The twitch of her tail seemed to increase nervously. Her vulpine ears standing straight up atop her head as he spoke.

"I..." She swallowed visibly, a small mixed expression of fluster and anger crossing her face as her blush deepened, "I-I am Maya Lepída Patria, Harbinger of the Alepoúsói. The Senator does have a very fine bath on the estate. I would be glad to take you to it, and get you the things you might need to clean up."


"Ah, yes, Senator Aëtius. Aëtius... Aëtius... yes." Kahraman practised the unfamiliar name, trying to ensure proper pronunciation. "You said that you were the 'Suzerain,' was it? Hmm, that sounds familiar. Suzerain... I am sure that I have heard that before... one moment, please."

Kahraman reached inside his kaftan, withdrew a small book, and began flipping through the pages. "Ah, yes. Yes. Here it is. 'Suzerain,' yes. It says that you are... oh..." Kahraman quickly gave a deep sweeping bow, then stuffed the book back inside its pocket. "Apologies, m'Lord. Yes, yes. Most sincere and heartfelt apologies. Please forgive me, I had mistaken you for... well, it matters not what. Just that I have made a most egregious error."A mirthful chuckled emanated from behind the mask, his shoulders shaking with the laughter.

"No need to apologize, Ozek Kahraman. I'm sure a great deal of my very own people would be no more likely to recognize me than a foreigner from a far way land. I was just about to head toward where the Senator resides. You and yours wouldn't mind accompanying me, would you?"

[DoomHat]

The Alepoúsói merchant looked at the Goblin King incredulously. His eyes shot to small entourage accompanying the boy, confusing falling over his face. He turned his gaze back to the young boy.

"I-I... I only accept silver and good, young sir. I can't accept that as payment with that. I don't even know what I'd do with that. I... I have a family to feed. That... I..."

"Honestly, I'm being more then generous," said King Floyd, "Zeepo here is incredibly talented, and clean! Such a cleaner, aren't you Zeepo".
The little goblin's feet dangled and padded adorably in the air as her king held her out like a limp and amiable cat. She mimed out a wiping motion with an imaginary piece of cloth when cued by the King's claim of her particular talents.

"An entire Zeepo to clean your things and do charming little dances for seasons to come, all for one little trinket? And yet you'd really prefer a whole Zeepo's worth of mere petty coins for your curio?? Exalted's mercy, I'll never understand Tall merchants," Floyd mused aloud to himself as he stuffed Zeepo under the crook of his left armpit.

She tugged gently on his oversized (and over-decorated) jacket lapel, causing him to lean down to better humor whatever she had to say. She whispered something into his ear. He nodded with grave concern, then scratched her behind the ears. She hummed pleasantly at this.

Floyd coughed gently into his hand and said, "Yes, well, I suppose you're right, she's far too good for any given thing you've got in stock, and would make terrible eating if all you're concerned about is being hungry... I've just been reminded that I really ought to object to you calling me 'sir', my good sir. One should generally address a sovereign, even a foreign one, as 'Your Grace'. Never 'sir'

"What I'm really looking for, I'll confess, is an extra gift or two for your own Suzerain. For when I go to finally meet him today. I'm pretty excited, took a whole season to get here From Gobsfull! The land that I rule. As one and only Goblin King. Anyway... Yes. Well, I figured a local might have a better idea of what he'd want, gift-wise, that is. Also perhaps a local might have a good idea of how to navigate my way too him? Yeah?"

With a slight gesture by the Goblin King one of his slightly larger small green attendants, one wielding a pike an wearing battered armor, dropped a heavy purse of gold onto the counter in front of the Alepoúsói.

"Well, how about this for a bargain. You like coins? Here's some coins. You take as many as you like for the service I now ask. I need a handful of worthy gifts for The Phœnīx Suzerain, besides the one's I've already secured, and I need someone to guide me to him, and help me deliver them with the proper local forms and custom. I wish it be you who does these honors. And again, you may take as many coins as you wish...

"...but bare in mind, depending, I may well choose to 'praise' you in front of him for precisely how 'affordable' this service was. And if you refuse me altogether? Is that something you might be thinking to ask? Well! I do wonder what it might do to your business if it got around that you snubbed a foreign King and rejected an opportunity to lavish honors upon your own Suzerain.

"So please... take however many coins you wish, and quickly find someone to maintain your booth here while you're away. I'd like to get on with the days events as soon as possible."

I'm wasn't planning to dwell on interacting with this merchant overlong. I was hopping this would work as a transition toward meeting with your actual VIPs, if it works?

[BootStrapTommy]

"Honestly, I'm being more then generous," said King Floyd, "Zeepo here is incredibly talented, and clean! Such a cleaner, aren't you Zeepo".
The little goblin's feet dangled and padded adorably in the air as her king held her out like a limp and amiable cat. She mimed out a wiping motion with an imaginary piece of cloth when cued by the King's claim of her particular talents.

"An entire Zeepo to clean your things and do charming little dances for seasons to come, all for one little trinket? And yet you'd really prefer a whole Zeepo's worth of mere petty coins for your curio?? Exalted's mercy, I'll never understand Tall merchants," Floyd mused aloud to himself as he stuffed Zeepo under the crook of his left armpit.

She tugged gently on his oversized (and over-decorated) jacket lapel, causing him to lean down to better humor whatever she had to say. She whispered something into his ear. He nodded with grave concern, then scratched her behind the ears. She hummed pleasantly at this.

Floyd coughed gently into his hand and said, "Yes, well, I suppose you're right, she's far too good for any given thing you've got in stock, and would make terrible eating if all you're concerned about is being hungry... I've just been reminded that I really ought to object to you calling me 'sir', my good sir. One should generally address a sovereign, even a foreign one, as 'Your Grace'. Never 'sir'

"What I'm really looking for, I'll confess, is an extra gift or two for your own Suzerain. For when I go to finally meet him today. I'm pretty excited, took a whole season to get here From Gobsfull! The land that I rule. As one and only Goblin King. Anyway... Yes. Well, I figured a local might have a better idea of what he'd want, gift-wise, that is. Also perhaps a local might have a good idea of how to navigate my way too him? Yeah?"

With a slight gesture by the Goblin King one of his slightly larger small green attendants, one wielding a pike an wearing battered armor, dropped a heavy purse of gold onto the counter in front of the Alepoúsói.

"Well, how about this for a bargain. You like coins? Here's some coins. You take as many as you like for the service I now ask. I need a handful of worthy gifts for The Phœnīx Suzerain, besides the one's I've already secured, and I need someone to guide me to him, and help me deliver them with the proper local forms and custom. I wish it be you who does these honors. And again, you may take as many coins as you wish...

"...but bare in mind, depending, I may well choose to 'praise' you in front of him for precisely how 'affordable' this service was. And if you refuse me altogether? Is that something you might be thinking to ask? Well! I do wonder what it might do to your business if it got around that you snubbed a foreign King and rejected an opportunity to lavish honors upon your own Suzerain.

"So please... take however many coins you wish, and quickly find someone to maintain your booth here while you're away. I'd like to get on with the days events as soon as possible."

I'm wasn't planning to dwell on interacting with this merchant overlong. I was hopping this would work as a transition toward meeting with your actual VIPs, if it works?The ears atop the Alepoúsói merchant's moved down, flat against his head, as his eyes narrowed. He stared incredulously at the Goblin King as he rambled, until the bag of coins was placed on the table in front of him. His eyes fell on it, staring for a moment before they grew wide. He stared in disbelief at the money, before her gaze turned back to the strange lad holding a small goblin under his arms.

"Ah... I... Most certainly."

His eyes darted around him, and he stepped out form his booth, walking to a neighboring booth where he spoke with another Alepoúsói. They spoke for a moment, before he returned. He stared at his own wares for a moment, and began to frantically grab up pieces to be present to the Suzerain. Numerous things in his arms, he gestured for Floyd to follow him, and began to make his way toward Senator Aëtius' estate. After a time, the reached the sprawling estates. There, in the garden, was the gazebo where those members of the government of the Phœnīx Estates resided.

[Mechalich]

The Amadin guests were directed to approach as the Senator was freed of obligation to another guest, his pleasant smile beaming at Fena Mazam as her and her entourage approached.

"Welcome, friends! I am Vajet Aëtius Patria, welcome to my home. I do hope you have so far found the City of Flame pleasant, and I hope you will continue to enjoy your stay."

The Suzerain stood within the gazebo, his back turned as he stared into the waters of the pool. He pivoted a little to see the new guests arrive, eventually turning and delivering a shirt, curt bow to the Amadin delegation. His white eyes stared intently at Fen under his mask.

"May the light of the Exalted shine upon you, friends. I hope you traveled well and I echo the Senator's hopes that your stay will be to your liking."

Aëtius turned to look at the Suzerain as he joined, before his gaze fell back onto Fena.

"May I introduce the esteemed Suzerain of the Curia Phœnīx, Dux of the Estates?"

The Suzerain himself! Fena felt her knees quake. She had not expected to meet such an august personage so quickly. Clearly her throat lightly to buy a moment, she fell back on the training drilled into her. “I am honored and humbled to receive our greetings. The light of the Exalted shine upon you both.” She bowed twice, once to the Senator and again, considerably deeper, to the Suzerain. “The Amadin thank you for your hospitality and the grand presentation you have put forward. I am certain our time in this holy city will be most enlightening.” Pausing to retrieve a small wrapped parcel from her maid, she undid it in her hands and presented it to the Suzerain. “The Yssa Mountains offers this gift to our gracious hosts.” Long and thin, it was a spiral horn of dagger length, intricately carved with Shishiyan iconography. Taken from an Yssian Ibex, such horns were never sold, though Fena could only hope this was known to her hosts.

“No doubt you have many duties,” the Princess concluded. “By your leave?” She requested dismissal. The suzerain was a grand figure, but she knew it was essential to circulate and make herself known.

[BootStrapTommy]

The Suzerain himself! Fena felt her knees quake. She had not expected to meet such an august personage so quickly. Clearly her throat lightly to buy a moment, she fell back on the training drilled into her. “I am honored and humbled to receive our greetings. The light of the Exalted shine upon you both.” She bowed twice, once to the Senator and again, considerably deeper, to the Suzerain. “The Amadin thank you for your hospitality and the grand presentation you have put forward. I am certain our time in this holy city will be most enlightening.” Pausing to retrieve a small wrapped parcel from her maid, she undid it in her hands and presented it to the Suzerain. “The Yssa Mountains offers this gift to our gracious hosts.” Long and thin, it was a spiral horn of dagger length, intricately carved with Shishiyan iconography. Taken from an Yssian Ibex, such horns were never sold, though Fena could only hope this was known to her hosts.

“No doubt you have many duties,” the Princess concluded. “By your leave?” She requested dismissal. The suzerain was a grand figure, but she knew it was essential to circulate and make herself known.The Suzerain reached out to accept the gift, taking a moment to examine it. He was silent for a moment, before her finally responded.

"'Tis a magnificent gift. Thank you." He continued to look over the horn as the Princess spoke, running his fingers along its length. When she was done, he looked up.

"I'll admit that I don't actually do a whole lot around here." The Suzerain quipped. "By all means, don't let me or the Senator hold you up. I will be around if you decide you have any further business. Thank you again for the gift. Please pass my thanks on to your father."

[DoomHat]

The ears atop the Alepoúsói merchant's moved down, flat against his head, as his eyes narrowed. He stared incredulously at the Goblin King as he rambled, until the bag of coins was placed on the table in front of him. His eyes fell on it, staring for a moment before they grew wide. He stared in disbelief at the money, before her gaze turned back to the strange lad holding a small goblin under his arms.

"Ah... I... Most certainly."

His eyes darted around him, and he stepped out form his booth, walking to a neighboring booth where he spoke with another Alepoúsói. They spoke for a moment, before he returned. He stared at his own wares for a moment, and began to frantically grab up pieces to be present to the Suzerain. Numerous things in his arms, he gestured for Floyd to follow him, and began to make his way toward Senator Aëtius' estate. After a time, the reached the sprawling estates. There, in the garden, was the gazebo where those members of the government of the Phœnīx Estates resided.

King Floyd opted to luxuriate in his whimsically constructed carriage for the remainder of the trip, however brief. The three trolls hauling it had immaculately groomed fur and faintly delighted expressions on their dull faces. They continued to drag the carriage by their shoulder straps well into the garden, until such time it was made sufficiently (loudly) clear to the driver it was no longer appropriate. With the jostle of the carriage stopping, Floyd exploded out, dramatically flaring the trim of his convoluted "royal jacket'.

He strutted toward the gazebo, popping his shoulders to a tune only he could hear. He cleared his throat to his newly acquired merchant guide as he tilted his heavy crown (http://kostoomarts.weebly.com/uploads/1/1/5/5/11554748/3151886_orig.jpg) at a slight jaunty angle, in order to indicate that formalities and introductions were in order.

"Goblin King of Gobsfull," he whispered, "Floyd the Harper, Sovereign of all Goblinkind. Feel free to make up some other titles that'd be impressive around these parts. Then tell me who the hell your introducing me to and hand out the stuff you brought, or whatever, just, yeah, do the thing."

His retinue skittered up like a rippling tide up his shadow and around his legs.

[Icilia]

The Senator let out a humor filled laugh.

"I thought as much. I will see to it that you and your men are provided with food and drink, Emir. And I thank you and your father for the gift of horses. They will be prized and well taken care of."

The Senator turned to speak with some of his attendants to arrange for food and drink to be brought to the Mi'varan delegations.

Maya's eyes seemed to grow wider as the Mi'varan approached, blushing at the realization that she had been staring. She swallowed hard as she looked up at the man, who almost stood head and shoulders above him. The twitch of her tail seemed to increase nervously. Her vulpine ears standing straight up atop her head as he spoke.

"I..." She swallowed visibly, a small mixed expression of fluster and anger crossing her face as her blush deepened, "I-I am Maya Lepída Patria, Harbinger of the Alepoúsói. The Senator does have a very fine bath on the estate. I would be glad to take you to it, and get you the things you might need to clean up."

"Thanks be unto you... Harbinger? I am unsure of what that title is. Please, lead on to the baths." Trotek motioned forward for Maya to lead, and followed her along. As he walked, he asked her about the blush. "You seem flushed Maya. Does the heat effect you as well? I would have thought you better suited to it. But, I have been known to be wrong. A lot."

Trotek spent the walk to the baths asking about the slight abnormalities that Maya had, out of curiosity. He spent the time admiring them. The swish of the tail truly accentuated certain features the woman had. Perhaps finding a wife would be easier than he thought. He only had two more summers before he would be forced to marry a Highlander. At least his father had offered him a chance to find his own wife and to strengthen ties to another country. Upon reaching the baths, Trotek bowed deeply to the Harbinger, thanking her for the escort. He quickly cleaned himself up, and was again in the company of Maya, talking with her until he reached the rest of the invited guests.

Trotek is willing to talk to any other guests who make their way up to him. Just opening that up since we all just seem to be dealing with Tommy at the moment.

[Rain Dragon]

A trio of elegant, slim ships finally arrived at the 'Fox Hunt'. Their distinctive almost batwing-like sails, vibrant colours and dragon figureheads marked them as ships from Xin Kun. The Empress herself stood at the bow of the foremost ship for as long as was safe, her long deep blue and purple hair neatly bound in a bun atop her head and decorated with flowers, beads and a silk tie. A small group of Xin Len attendants ensured the Empress was looking her best for the event, adjusting an almost floor-length sleeve, retying the cloth belt at her waist and applying lilac stain to her nails.
"We have almost arrived, Empress." a Ten Len appeared behind the group, bowing low in the presence of the Empress. She smiled at her cousin as the attendants scattered.
"Who knew we would attend an event named 'Fox Hunt' in our lifetime." she whispered so only he could hear her before gliding toward the gangplank.

The small group of people from Xin Kun stopped to appreciate the gardens for a time.

Sorry about the very light first RP post. <.< I've been busy and have been tired. Free to RP!

[Legionary]

The Senator eyed the somber newcomers with concern. It was awfully hot for such extraneous attire, and it was not the first experience he had had with foreigners seemingly unaware of the Demesne's climate. He stood, to greet the foreigners, when a hand rested on his shoulder. He turned to see the Suzerain himself standing next to him.

"I shall handle these guests, Senator."

The tall, darkly clad masked ruler approached the Slavians, his clothes as extraneous and dark as their own. He halted in front of the two Von Orloks. The gaze of his white eyes rose to Sir Letho, then fell back to Lady Isabella. He bowed, taking the Lady's hand and bringing up to the lips carved into his mask as if he were kissing.

"Greetings, Lady Isabella. The Exalted's grace be upon you. You honor us with you presence today. You've traveled a long way, I hope you traveled well. I am the Suzerain of the Curia Phœnīx. I welcome you to the City of Flame."

His white eyes seemed to pierce the veil Isabella was wearing, studying the Slavian's facial features intently for moment.

"You bear an uncanny resemblance to your grandmother. Has anyone ever told you that, my Lady?"

In the gazebo, the Harbinger stared at the Slavians with hawkish eyes and an uneasy look on her face."You liken me to my grandmother? Are you implying that I have lost my youthful vigor?" teases Lady Isabella to the Suzerain with feigned offense, acutely aware of the man's actual implications. "Please, let us skip these faux pleasantries. We can save the small talk and petty exchanging of trinkets for the rest of your esteemed guests," snarks the Slavian noblewoman with an almost aloof tone. Her uncharacteristically blunt approach to Suzerain of the Curia Phœnīx was stark contrast the well mannered and socially astute persona that she typically adopted in the presence of other nobles. "I enjoy these festivities as much as the next girl, but if there is diplomatic pretense for this charade we would have appreciated a few more finer details before riding all this way," sighed Isabella.

"The Von Orloks will make time for the Phœnīx Estates," she continues dryly, her attention mostly focused on the growing crowd of guests. "But a man that is seen to stand with everyone can be trusted stand by no one." Slavians were a suspicious people by nature, and their inherent isolationist xenophobia had clearly left them rather difficult at times to treat with.


Jarah was about to admonish Liora for clearly failing to recognize simple colors but he found his eyes drawn towards the otherworldly mistress who seemingly headed the delegation. Jarah had never been like his brothers or his father so easily swept up in a pretty face or a nice set of hips. He had taken few consorts and while his wife and he got on well enough, certainly better than the King and Queen, they were hardly in love as Prince Noham and Princess Celeste seemingly were. Yet, when he looked upon the pale visage of this strange woman he felt something stir inside him. He wasn't sure if it was love or fear that struck such a chord but he wished to draw closer to its source.

He grabbed Liora's hand and pulled her forward through the crowd. As they reached the dark entourage the Suzerain arrived and the Prince halted. He did not wish to disrupt or disrespect the sovereign or his host but nor could he allow this woman to escape. He resolved to wait near the edge of the delegation until such time as was appropriate to approach.
Jarah is drawn in closer and closer to Lady Isabella, only to promptly find himself staring straight into the dull breastplate of the towering giant that blocked his path. Sir Letho Von Orlok the Younger. The nephew of the infamous Black Duke, cousin to Lady Isabella, and unsurprisingly the son of the Slavian Baron, Letho Von Orlok the Elder. His reputation did not extend beyond the borders of his native land, however perhaps that was for the better considering the ill renowned that the Von Orloks were known to cultivate. The towering juggernaut of steel looks down upon the Prince of Zhentanna with silent indifference, unfazed by the man's social prominence or status. Unlike his fellow knights of Slavia that have begun to draw labored breaths under their heavy plate armor in this afternoon heat, the eerily mute being behind this mask remains as quiet as the grave, like a statue or unwavering golem. Whatever his reasons, it is clear that he would not yet allow Jarah to approach the Slavian noblewoman.

[BootStrapTommy]

King Floyd opted to luxuriate in his whimsically constructed carriage for the remainder of the trip, however brief. The three trolls hauling it had immaculately groomed fur and faintly delighted expressions on their dull faces. They continued to drag the carriage by their shoulder straps well into the garden, until such time it was made sufficiently (loudly) clear to the driver it was no longer appropriate. With the jostle of the carriage stopping, Floyd exploded out, dramatically flaring the trim of his convoluted "royal jacket'.

He strutted toward the gazebo, popping his shoulders to a tune only he could hear. He cleared his throat to his newly acquired merchant guide as he tilted his heavy crown (http://kostoomarts.weebly.com/uploads/1/1/5/5/11554748/3151886_orig.jpg) at a slight jaunty angle, in order to indicate that formalities and introductions were in order.

"Goblin King of Gobsfull," he whispered, "Floyd the Harper, Sovereign of all Goblinkind. Feel free to make up some other titles that'd be impressive around these parts. Then tell me who the hell your introducing me to and hand out the stuff you brought, or whatever, just, yeah, do the thing."

His retinue skittered up like a rippling tide up his shadow and around his legs.The Alepoúsói stared wide eyed at his current company, his eyes darting from Senator Aëtius to masked dark clad figure to the Harbinger Maya. Blush filled his each at his kin's presence. His eyes darted to the Goblin King, filled with uncertainity, then back to those within the gazebo.

"Ah... May I present to you His Magnificent Majesty, Floyd the Harper, the..."

"Goblin King of Gobsfull and Sovereign of Goblinkind." The masked Phenite finished the sentence for the nervous merchant. "Not the first Goblin King I've met."

The Senator shot his gaze from the Goblin King to the Suzerain, and back again. A friendly smile crossed his face as he bowed to Floyd.

"Greetings, King Floyd. I am Vajet Aëtius Patria, Senator of the Curia Phœnīx. And this is the Phœnīx Suzerian, Doge of the Republic and Dux of the Estates." He indicated the tall masked figure. "I hope your travels saw you well?"

The emrchant piped back in, his eyes falling on the Suzerain

"The Goblin King wish for me to present you with these gifts." He did his best to indicate the items he was holding.

The Harbinger stepped forward, an obnoxious grin on her face. She took the items from the merchant, trying to stifle her giggles.

"Let me take those for the Suzerain, cousin." She said to the merchant, before turning her gaze to the Goblin King "The Curia thanks you for generosity."


"Thanks be unto you... Harbinger? I am unsure of what that title is. Please, lead on to the baths." Trotek motioned forward for Maya to lead, and followed her along. As he walked, he asked her about the blush. "You seem flushed Maya. Does the heat effect you as well? I would have thought you better suited to it. But, I have been known to be wrong. A lot."

Trotek spent the walk to the baths asking about the slight abnormalities that Maya had, out of curiosity. He spent the time admiring them. The swish of the tail truly accentuated certain features the woman had. Perhaps finding a wife would be easier than he thought. He only had two more summers before he would be forced to marry a Highlander. At least his father had offered him a chance to find his own wife and to strengthen ties to another country. Upon reaching the baths, Trotek bowed deeply to the Harbinger, thanking her for the escort. He quickly cleaned himself up, and was again in the company of Maya, talking with her until he reached the rest of the invited guests.

Trotek is willing to talk to any other guests who make their way up to him. Just opening that up since we all just seem to be dealing with Tommy at the moment."I... The Harbinger is the representative of the Alepoúsói on the Curia Phœnīx. I-I serve my people in the government and I'm the ranking Alepoúsói commander in the Alepoúsói Auxlia."

With Trotek's next question, Maya's blush only deepened. She looked flustered for a moment, her eyes moving or Trotek's face to his chest, and then down to the ground to avoid looking at him all together.

"No... Yeah, I suppose the heat. That's what it is. Well... I mean I am more use to it. But..."

A grateful look crossed her face when he inquired about her ears and tail.

"I'm an Alepoúsói, dominus. We just have them, it's what makes us Alepoúsói. We're the... 'fox', if you were, in the Fox Hunt. I'm told that Ananda claimed these were gifts of the Exalted, provided to bless us with cunning and wit. But that is just what I heard."

As they arrived at the bath, a servant scurried up, handing Trotek the hygiene products he needed before the Mi'varan entered the bath. With his departure, Maya let out a flustered sigh of relief. She was taken back by how flustered the foreigner had made her, and was unsure exactly why that was. She stood there, engrossed in her musing until the Mi'varan again emerged. Her gaze met his, and suddenly a panic set in. She had waited through his whole bath. Was that weird? Would he think that was weird?

"I... I-I decided to wait for you. I didn't know if you had paid attention to the route we took, and wanted to make sure you could get back without hassle..."


A trio of elegant, slim ships finally arrived at the 'Fox Hunt'. Their distinctive almost batwing-like sails, vibrant colours and dragon figureheads marked them as ships from Xin Kun. The Empress herself stood at the bow of the foremost ship for as long as was safe, her long deep blue and purple hair neatly bound in a bun atop her head and decorated with flowers, beads and a silk tie. A small group of Xin Len attendants ensured the Empress was looking her best for the event, adjusting an almost floor-length sleeve, retying the cloth belt at her waist and applying lilac stain to her nails.
"We have almost arrived, Empress." a Ten Len appeared behind the group, bowing low in the presence of the Empress. She smiled at her cousin as the attendants scattered.
"Who knew we would attend an event named 'Fox Hunt' in our lifetime." she whispered so only he could hear her before gliding toward the gangplank.

The small group of people from Xin Kun stopped to appreciate the gardens for a time.

Sorry about the very light first RP post. <.< I've been busy and have been tired. Free to RP!Maya Lepída wandered the garden, taking a break from the endless stream of diplomats that had bombarded her since the day had begun. She was not a diplomat by any means, but rather a warrior. Such pleasantries were largely out of her element. She took in the Senator's estate, finding the same calm in it that she imagined the Senator often did. Why else would have have had it planted? A number of bright colors drew her attention, but they were not flowers. Not far from her there was a group of individuals with wildly color hair, all relatively short. Their dress loudly proclaimed their foreignness, but it was not their garb that drew Maya's eyes. It was the fact that two of them possessed ears and tails not so unlike her own. More tails, technically speaking, but the pairs resemblance to a small Alepoúsói was uncanny.

With fiery red hair that matched her ears and large bushy tail, Maya stood only a few inches under six foot, and thus was much taller than the Ten Len she saw. She stood in plain sight, staring with wide eyes at the newcomers, a million questions running through her mind.


"You liken me to my grandmother? Are you implying that I have lost my youthful vigor?" teases Lady Isabella to the Suzerain with feigned offense, acutely aware of the man's actual implications. "Please, let us skip these faux pleasantries. We can save the small talk and petty exchanging of trinkets for the rest of your esteemed guests," snarks the Slavian noblewoman with an almost aloof tone. Her uncharacteristically blunt approach to Suzerain of the Curia Phœnīx was stark contrast the well mannered and socially astute persona that she typically adopted in the presence of other nobles. "I enjoy these festivities as much as the next girl, but if there is diplomatic pretense for this charade we would have appreciated a few more finer details before riding all this way," sighed Isabella.

"The Von Orloks will make time for the Phœnīx Estates," she continues dryly, her attention mostly focused on the growing crowd of guests. "But a man that is seen to stand with everyone can be trusted stand by no one." Slavians were a suspicious people by nature, and their inherent isolationist xenophobia had clearly left them rather difficult at times to treat with.The Suzerain let out a laugh, as he release the Lady's hand. His hand came around to his back. His white eyes remained on Isabella, unblinking.

"If you know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles. If you know yourself but not the enemy, for every victory gained you will also suffer a defeat. If you know neither the enemy nor yourself, you will succumb in every battle." The Suzerain let the words hang in the air for a moment. "Celessa is big, dominus. And it contains a great many people. It is better to know those people than to hide under pretenses of false security that borders and geography provide. I am quite acquainted with myself, Lady Isabella. I am not as well acquainted with the wider world as I'd like to be. So to answer your question, I sought to gain a measure of you, your father, and of the Duchy. I need to know who might be my friends, and who might be my enemies."

The Senator stood behind the Suzerain, a mildly uncomfortable look on his face as his smile seemed to fade. The Harbinger leaned on one of the beams supporting the gazebo, eyeing the Zhen prince as Sir Letho intercepted him.

[DimpleLoamsdown]

The approach of the rather strange profession earned a look of curious confusion on the face of the Senator, as he watched them approached. If anything, the sheer size of the men was of great note, but their strange procession made them hard to not stare at. Concern crossed Aëtius' face.

"No no no. Good sir, that will not do. You're like to succumb to the heat if you keep such a heavy coat on, friend. It will not do. Come sir, take your coat off and join us in the shade by the water. I will summon refreshments for you and your men. You look to have traveled far, please take a moment to rest and relax, before the warmth goes to you heads!" He gestured to some nearby servants who hopped to obtaining the refreshments, while expectantly gesturing for the Medved dignitaries to take a seat under the gazebo.

The Harbinger held her hand up to her mouth, stifling a giggle.


"Thank you very much kind sir," Boris of Medved started, "We have removed our coats and furs, but only because you directed us to do so, as is Bearmen custom. I could never have imagined such warm climate in all of my life," Boris continued, wiping off sweat. "I will sit under gazebo, and greatly receive refreshments from your beautiful, yet boiling country." He performed a hand signal and his men removed their furs, coats hats and layers of clothing, all the way until they had revealed their chests. Repeating their national anthem over and over again, the musicians led the rest of the Bearmen in song, as they marched under the gazebo, stopping abruptly as they sat down, letting the last chord hang in the air. The last to sit down, Boris bent over the massive pile of cloaks, furs, coats and hats that now rested beside the gazebo and started rummaging through it. Surprisingly quickly however, he managed to lift up a barrel that some how remained unseen earlier. He threw the barrel onto his now bare back and marched steadily into the gazebo, his muscles bulging. Once he was directly in front of the senator, in one swift motion, he placed the heavy barrel before the senator. This barrel contains the finest mead in all of Land of Bearmen and is a gift from the house of Ares to you. After he said this, Boris bowed down to the senator, his muscles shaking slightly.

Two particularly strong looking Bearmen eyed the Harbinger angrily, their muscles bulging, but they remained where they were seated, in order to keep peace between the nations.

[BootStrapTommy]

"Thank you very much kind sir," Boris of Medved started, "We have removed our coats and furs, but only because you directed us to do so, as is Bearmen custom. I could never have imagined such warm climate in all of my life," Boris continued, wiping off sweat. "I will sit under gazebo, and greatly receive refreshments from your beautiful, yet boiling country." He performed a hand signal and his men removed their furs, coats hats and layers of clothing, all the way until they had revealed their chests. Repeating their national anthem over and over again, the musicians led the rest of the Bearmen in song, as they marched under the gazebo, stopping abruptly as they sat down, letting the last chord hang in the air. The last to sit down, Boris bent over the massive pile of cloaks, furs, coats and hats that now rested beside the gazebo and started rummaging through it. Surprisingly quickly however, he managed to lift up a barrel that some how remained unseen earlier. He threw the barrel onto his now bare back and marched steadily into the gazebo, his muscles bulging. Once he was directly in front of the senator, in one swift motion, he placed the heavy barrel before the senator. This barrel contains the finest mead in all of Land of Bearmen and is a gift from the house of Ares to you. After he said this, Boris bowed down to the senator, his muscles shaking slightly.

Two particularly strong looking Bearmen eyed the Harbinger angrily, their muscles bulging, but they remained where they were seated, in order to keep peace between the nations.Maya's attempts to stifle laughter largely failed as a stray laugh escaped her lips. The fact that the gazebo was now filled with huge, shirtless men was a joke not lost on her, a subtle blush creeping into her cheeks. The Senator retained his kind smile.

"The gift is most appreciated, dominus. Thank you. I hope you're travels have not been so sweaty the whole way. Would be most unkind for us to have put you through such. I'm not sure that is a custom that serves you well here, or anywhere further south for that matter... I do not believe we have formally introduced ourselves. I am Vajet Aëtius Patria, and I welcome you on behalf of the Curia Phœnīx. My giggling friend over here is Maya Lepída Patria, the Harbinger of the Alepoúsói."

As he finished, a number of servants arrive, trays covered in food and drink in hand.

[Catrus]

A mirthful chuckled emanated from behind the mask, his shoulders shaking with the laughter.

"No need to apologize, Ozek Kahraman. I'm sure a great deal of my very own people would be no more likely to recognize me than a foreigner from a far way land. I was just about to head toward where the Senator resides. You and yours wouldn't mind accompanying me, would you?"
No. No, not at all. It would be our honour to accompany you, m'Lord." Kahraman smiles widely at the suggestion, and his bodyguards fall into rank behind the pair as they cross the gardens towards the gazebo gathering. Kahraman awkwardly attempting to make small talk en route.

"Greetings. Greetings and salutations upon you, Senator Aëtius. I am Ozek Kahraman, and it is my honour, and pleasure to make your acquaintance, on this fine, and lovely day." Kahraman bows deeply before the Senator, and Suzerain. "Gifts are custom at meetings such as this, yes. Yes. Appearances may lead one to believe that such a custom has been forgot, but it has not. No. No, not forgotten. The tradition amongst the Dağcılar, is that all gifts given, must be personal. As I am not a wealthy man, my gift may be found lacking a certain level of prestige, but it is one that means a great deal to myself, and my family. My grandmatron, she breeds and raises hounds. Yes. Yes, hounds for the constabulary. Strong hounds. Loyal. Fierce. Protective. Smart too. Such is the gift I have brought. Hounds for our new friends. Born of my very own guard hound." He slips his thumbs into his belt, and smiles widely, eyes staring off into the aether. "That would be where the problem has arisen. Unfortunately, yes. Yes. Guncicegi, she is fat with little ones. The litter that is soon to come, is the gift. But she is unfit for lengthy travel, through a strange new place, filled with strange new smells. Quite stressful, yes. Yes. I must ask that a litter be sent to my ship, so that she may be retrieved. Ha! A litter, for the litter! Kahraman grins wide and bursts out into laughter. "What fortuitous word play."

[Zayuz]

Perhaps it was a tad ironic that one of the closest peoples to those hosting event arrived so long after everyone else. But being late implied that one attempted to be there on time, which was something cautiously avoided by the inexperienced delegation sent out by the Barony of Seloris. For so long they had been wrapped up in their internal conflict that it was impossible to even consider the event something outside of a massive ruse. Some kind of trap, or an opportunity to size up their enemies. Never in Zelt was there a peaceful meeting with free food and no ulterior motive.

..But that is what the scouts had reported, at least so far. All the event seemed to be was a diplomatic party of sorts with nobles and riches and wine. Something totally unheard of due to the lack of both security and the required wealth in the land of Seloris. To host a party like that would be to throw your gold into the sewers and say farewell to the loyalty of any guardsmen you owned. They would be receiving no end of bribes during the time around the event. So hesitantly did word arrive, and the Baron himself was sent a message to report to the event as soon as he could to keep up with impressions. Thus came the hours of lateness in their arrival, but it was assumed that it mattered not; The important part was that he showed up at all.

Lord Vaerin arrived on foot, his horse and band of backup forces in case things got ugly posted by an inn within the city. They weren't to cause any trouble, but to keep an eye out for what might arise. Get a feel for this culture - To see if they were as vulnerable as they seemed. Despite any thoughts on their culture, it was impossible to deny that the Pheonix Estates built themselves a very nice city, and a large one at that. Vaerin was a man on the taller side of his own people, which was around average for most at the event. His face was well angled, nearly clear of blemishes save a scar that wove horizontally across from the bridge of his nose over to about the center of his right cheek. He had brown hair, which was worn back and of medium length - A hint of a natural wave giving him a rugged appearance when matched with his shorter trimmed facial hair. The man came wearing a light set of armor - And not the decorative kind. An expertly crafted black hide hauberk covered his chest, coupled with some more casual brown breeches beneath. A heavy sword coated in the lightest layer of gold lay against his hip, sheathed but still apparent to any who looked upon him.

Accompanying him was a group of four rough looking guards in lighter armor than most. Brandishing axes and shields on their person they seemed more ready for come kind of war than any diplomatic party. However, there was a fifth that did not match the others. Dressed in a blue robe and wearing a couple riches loosely, she made to point out to Vaerin who was who and how each had arrived. Nodding solemnly, the bandit lord made his way over to their host, nodding in respect as his delegation followed close behind him.

"The Barony of Seloris wishes you it's warmest greetings." Speaks Vaerin with a hint of amusement on his face. Each movement he made was decisive and confident despite the unfamiliarity with the situation, his posture echoing this apparent ease in the crowd of strangers. "I hope my lateness beings no offense to your peoples, as far as I understood you would rather I attended late than not at all.. Apparently most here bring gifts, but I would not be caught dead leaving my lands with any decent amount of valuables." A moment of silence passes, but he picks up again just before the host would themselves in turn. "Such is why I bring Sveta, my niece. You may keep her in her courts and do with her as you see fit - I will not impose any kind of diplomatic ties that may be unwelcome. Perhaps she would do well to be wed to one of your lords, or made to be a servant within your palace. I care not - Your whims are your own. ..But where are my manners; I am Vaerin, baron of Seloris and son Lord Falkar who was the first man to unify the country in many hundreds of years."

The girl in blue robes steps forwards, her complexion and skin tone matching Vaerin's shade of olive. She was emotionally trapped somewhere between excited and terrified to be given to a foreign country, even if they shared the same tongue and race. Sveta was shorter, but still fairly well endowed and pleasing to the eye. Even if she was to be given as a punishment, it almost seemed like a reward to be gifted to such a wealthy and seemingly peaceful people. Her dress hugged her figure but made no show of anything scandalous, descending midway to her knees and her collar resting just above where her cleavage would start. A lighter shade of brown hair fell down her back in modest curls, her face accented with a sparse amount of makeup to give her a more pleasing appearance. Glancing up to the host, she offered them a nervous smile before looking back to her uncle.

https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/08/fb/64/08fb641617e57a21c9e1a65be5926f8e.jpg

[Lleban]

There was great controversy of Gao over weather to attend the phoenix suzerain's ball. Hannibal II was adamantly against it, but others in the great council had a different idea, though after the failure of obtaining a trading post Hannibal had to yield to the council's demands.The Shishiyan faction of the council decided to send its newest member the Zenta Ullana musa of the highlands .

Ullana musa, her entourage of 20 elite gaurds, and her devout kunni secretary arrived to an already crowded harbor. Dressed ornately in pearls, golden earrings and a long flowing rob of deep purple and mahogany with golden tassels and swan feathers trailing off at the shoulders and along the back. An while she was in full knowledge she was going on a fox hunt, whatever that strange foreign custom is, she choose her manner of dress to impress, for there were 12 Zenta words for status and only one for subtlety. If the events became too physical her kunni manservant, Sonni, could hunt in her said, after all no fox hunt could worse than wrestling a bearlion. On the way to the estate Ullanna and her gaurds casually tossed gold to all who they came across so the citizens can remember who the most wealthiest kingdom of them all.

Once Ullana arrived she meet a representative of the Phoenix suzerain "Greetings I've arrived to this "fox hunt" to pay a tribute of gold to all delegates who wish to attend, and a special gift for the suzerain himself."

Sorry for being late

[BootStrapTommy]

No. No, not at all. It would be our honour to accompany you, m'Lord." Kahraman smiles widely at the suggestion, and his bodyguards fall into rank behind the pair as they cross the gardens towards the gazebo gathering. Kahraman awkwardly attempting to make small talk en route.

"Greetings. Greetings and salutations upon you, Senator Aëtius. It it my honour and pleasure to make your acquaintance on this fine and lovely day." Kahraman bows deeply before the Senator, and Suzerain. "Gifts are custom at meetings such as this, yes. Yes. Appearances may lead one to believe that such a custom has been forgot, but it has not. No. No, not forgotten. The tradition amongst the Dağcılar, is that all gifts given, must be personal. As I am not a wealthy man, my gift may be found lacking a certain level of prestige, but it is one that means a great deal to myself, and my family. My grandmatron, she breeds and raises hounds. Yes. Yes, hounds for the constabulary. Strong hounds. Loyal. Fierce. Protective. Smart too. Such is the gift I have brought. Hounds for our new friends. Born of my very own guard hound." He slips his thumbs into his belt, and smiles widely, eyes staring off into the aether. "That would be where the problem has arisen. Unfortunately, yes. Yes. Guncicegi, she is fat with little ones. The litter that is soon to come, is the gift. But she is unfit for lengthy travel, through a strange new place, filled with strange new smells. Quite stressful, yes. Yes. I must ask that a litter be sent to my ship, so that she may be retrieved. Ha! A litter, for the litter! Kahraman grins wide and bursts out into laughter. "What fortuitous word play."The Senator smiled politely as the Dağcılar rambled, nodding intently along with Kahraman as he spoke. When he was finished speaking, the Senator spoke.

"That seems a most thoughtful and appropriate gift. You honor us with it. We will see to it that a litter is summoned to be taken down to retrieve the dog. I'm sure it would not be too stressful for her if she were to be surrounded by a peaceful garden. Thank you."

"I prefer gifts with meaning to valuable trinkets any day. Indeed, thank you, Kahraman. It is a very thoughtful gesture." The Suzerain added.


Perhaps it was a tad ironic that one of the closest peoples to those hosting event arrived so long after everyone else. But being late implied that one attempted to be there on time, which was something cautiously avoided by the inexperienced delegation sent out by the Barony of Seloris. For so long they had been wrapped up in their internal conflict that it was impossible to even consider the event something outside of a massive ruse. Some kind of trap, or an opportunity to size up their enemies. Never in Zelt was there a peaceful meeting with free food and no ulterior motive.

..But that is what the scouts had reported, at least so far. All the event seemed to be was a diplomatic party of sorts with nobles and riches and wine. Something totally unheard of due to the lack of both security and the required wealth in the land of Seloris. To host a party like that would be to throw your gold into the sewers and say farewell to the loyalty of any guardsmen you owned. They would be receiving no end of bribes during the time around the event. So hesitantly did word arrive, and the Baron himself was sent a message to report to the event as soon as he could to keep up with impressions. Thus came the hours of lateness in their arrival, but it was assumed that it mattered not; The important part was that he showed up at all.

Lord Vaerin arrived on foot, his horse and band of backup forces in case things got ugly posted by an inn within the city. They weren't to cause any trouble, but to keep an eye out for what might arise. Get a feel for this culture - To see if they were as vulnerable as they seemed. Despite any thoughts on their culture, it was impossible to deny that the Pheonix Estates built themselves a very nice city, and a large one at that. Vaerin was a man on the taller side of his own people, which was around average for most at the event. His face was well angled, nearly clear of blemishes save a scar that wove horizontally across from the bridge of his nose over to about the center of his right cheek. He had brown hair, which was worn back and of medium length - A hint of a natural wave giving him a rugged appearance when matched with his shorter trimmed facial hair. The man came wearing a light set of armor - And not the decorative kind. An expertly crafted black hide hauberk covered his chest, coupled with some more casual brown breeches beneath. A heavy sword coated in the lightest layer of gold lay against his hip, sheathed but still apparent to any who looked upon him.

Accompanying him was a group of four rough looking guards in lighter armor than most. Brandishing axes and shields on their person they seemed more ready for come kind of war than any diplomatic party. However, there was a fifth that did not match the others. Dressed in a blue robe and wearing a couple riches loosely, she made to point out to Vaerin who was who and how each had arrived. Nodding solemnly, the bandit lord made his way over to their host, nodding in respect as his delegation followed close behind him.

"The Barony of Seloris wishes you it's warmest greetings." Speaks Vaerin with a hint of amusement on his face. Each movement he made was decisive and confident despite the unfamiliarity with the situation, his posture echoing this apparent ease in the crowd of strangers. "I hope my lateness beings no offense to your peoples, as far as I understood you would rather I attended late than not at all.. Apparently most here bring gifts, but I would not be caught dead leaving my lands with any decent amount of valuables." A moment of silence passes, but he picks up again just before the host would themselves in turn. "Such is why I bring Sveta, my niece. You may keep her in her courts and do with her as you see fit - I will not impose any kind of diplomatic ties that may be unwelcome. Perhaps she would do well to be wed to one of your lords, or made to be a servant within your palace. I care not - Your whims are your own. ..But where are my manners; I am Vaerin, baron of Seloris and son Lord Falkar who was the first man to unify the country in many hundreds of years."

The girl in blue robes steps forwards, her complexion and skin tone matching Vaerin's shade of olive. She was emotionally trapped somewhere between excited and terrified to be given to a foreign country, even if they shared the same tongue and race. Sveta was shorter, but still fairly well endowed and pleasing to the eye. Even if she was to be given as a punishment, it almost seemed like a reward to be gifted to such a wealthy and seemingly peaceful people. Her dress hugged her figure but made no show of anything scandalous, descending midway to her knees and her collar resting just above where her cleavage would start. A lighter shade of brown hair fell down her back in modest curls, her face accented with a sparse amount of makeup to give her a more pleasing appearance. Glancing up to the host, she offered them a nervous smile before looking back to her uncle.

https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/08/fb/64/08fb641617e57a21c9e1a65be5926f8e.jpgSenator Aëtius maintained a smile as the Seloris delegation approached. The man had most certainly encountered Selorians before in his years as an Equestrian, so he was well acquainted with the lawless people of the northeast. Concern, however, grew in his eyes, though not directed at the foreigners. He glanced over toward the Harbingers, who stared at Lord Vaerin with open and vitriol contempt. Maya's gaze turned toward the Suzerain, who stood leaning against the gazebo, attending to the bird that sat on his arm. She hissed through gritted teeth.

"You invited Selorians?"

The Suzerain stepped forward, placing a finger on Maya's lips, silencing her. He continued forward, approaching Vaerin. He was taller than the Selorian, his eerie white eyes peering down through the ivory, handprinted mask. The phœnīx remained perched on his arm.

"Greetings, Lord Vaerin. And welcome. Your gift is... unorthodox, to say the least. But it is most certainly welcome. I'm sure I will find a fitting use," his cold gaze moved to the young woman momentarily, "for young Sveta. As for your tardiness, it is of no concern. When I sent you an invitation, I was unsure whether you would be able to make it. Your attendance is a pleasure, and I thank you for making the journey. I hope it was an uneventful one."

The Suzerain's gaze traveled to the bird, which he seemed to groom a moment, something in his hand. He paused for a bit, before making an inquiry, a pensive note to his voice.

"Were you aware, Lord Vaerin, that phœnīxes can speak?"


There was great controversy of Gao over weather to attend the phoenix suzerain's ball. Hannibal II was adamantly against it, but others in the great council had a different idea, though after the failure of obtaining a trading post Hannibal had to yield to the council's demands.The Shishiyan faction of the council decided to send its newest member the Zenta Ullana musa of the highlands .

Ullana musa, her entourage of 20 elite gaurds, and her devout kunni secretary arrived to an already crowded harbor. Dressed ornately in pearls, golden earrings and a long flowing rob of deep purple and mahogany with golden tassels and swan feathers trailing off at the shoulders and along the back. An while she was in full knowledge she was going on a fox hunt, whatever that strange foreign custom is, she choose her manner of dress to impress, for there were 12 Zenta words for status and only one for subtlety. If the events became too physical her kunni manservant, Sonni, could hunt in her said, after all no fox hunt could worse than wrestling a bearlion. On the way to the estate Ullanna and her gaurds casually tossed gold to all who they came across so the citizens can remember who the most wealthiest kingdom of them all.

Once Ullana arrived she meet a representative of the Phoenix suzerain "Greetings I've arrived to this "fox hunt" to pay a tribute of gold to all delegates who wish to attend, and a special gift for the suzerain himself."

Sorry for being lateThe servant gestured for Ullana Musa to follow, and directed her toward the gazebo where Senator Aëtius was having a discussion with Suzerain. The Senator reacted first, stepping forward to greet the Baalbek dignitaries as they were announced with a bow.

"Greeting, friends. Welcome to the City of Flame. I do hope that your travels were well, and that your stay so far has been pleasant. I am Vajet Aëtius Patria, and on behalf of the Curia Phœnīx I welcome you to the Estates. Might I introduce you to the Phœnīx Suzerain, Doge of the Republic and Dux of the Estates. We are both so happy to make your acquaintance."

Behind him, the Suzerain made a curt bow, but did not speak. He examined the newcomers with his strange white eyes.

[Catrus]

The Senator smiled politely as the Dağcılar rambled, nodding intently along with Kahraman as he spoke. When he was finished speaking, the Senator spoke.

"That seems a most thoughtful and appropriate gift. You honor us with it. We will see to it that a litter is summoned to be taken down to retrieve the dog. I'm sure it would not be too stressful for her if she were to be surrounded by a peaceful garden. Thank you."

"I prefer gifts with meaning to valuable trinkets any day. Indeed, thank you, Kahraman. It is a very thoughtful gesture." The Suzerain added.
"Marvellous, yes. Yes. Thank you." Kahraman beamed brightly at the compliments, bowing again, partially to conceal his blushing. "A caretaker is also present, to see that my beloved Guncicegi is cared for during her labours. Also to assist in the training and upkeep of the pups afterwards. A stipend has been granted, so that you need not worry about providing room and board for the caretaker. You are, of course, free to dispatch the caretaker back to me, after the pups are born, if you would prefer a trainer of your own choosing. No offence will be taken at such an eventuality. No. No offence. Perish the thought."

Still smiling widely, Kahraman beams before the assembly. "Oh, but where are my manners. You have many guests. Yes. Yes, many guests indeed. How discourteous of me to hog your time and attention. Please, forgive my error. T'was a pleasure to make your acquaintance, and visit your beautiful home, and garden. A truly beautiful garden, please, if at all possible, if etiquette permits it, pass my compliments along to those responsible. Yes. yes, indeed. Thank you. I shall, with your leave, excuse myself now, as I see that many others await your attention. Yes. Yes, I shall now go mingle. A pleasure to meet you all." With a wide smile, and sweeping bow, Kahraman excuses himself, and wanders off to enjoy the garden, and to seek the refreshments.

[Tentreto]

The Senator smiled appreciatively at the gesture.

"Thank you, dominus. I fear that my only contribution to this beauty is the money that paid for it. It is the work of the very skilled and verdant hands of a number of talent gardeners. I will be sure to pass along your praises, Kalus Mesus."

Behind him the dark clad figure had made his way around the pool, and now approached the delegation. An ivory mask stamped with a black hand print peered out from under his hood, white eyes studying the Caligonians, as he approached.

"You have my utmost gratitude for the gift, Kalus Mensus," the masked man said from behind his mask, "I do hope that the Curia and I will live up to such ideals in our future dealings with you nations."

The Senator shot his gaze over to the Suzerain, then back to their guests.

"*Ahem* Kalus Mensus, may I introducing you to the Suzerain of the Curia Phœnīx?"

"Caligonia honors us with your presence, friend."



Kalus almost chuckles as he replies:
"As you honor us yourselves. We are glad to be well received this far from home, without the spectre of ruin over us.'

He gestures quickly over the city in the distance. " This is certainly a strange time for us, as it must be for you. I cannot remember the last time such a large gathering too place."

Then, from the corner of his eye, Kalus realised that an entire troop of instruments was approaching. He could not help but feel slightly outdone. Returning his gaze to the Suzerain, Kalus gave a longer bow than his first one.
" It would appear I may be holding up the proceedings, and my people would need some refreshment. I wish you great fortune with your other guests."



Trotek spent the walk to the baths asking about the slight abnormalities that Maya had, out of curiosity. He spent the time admiring them. The swish of the tail truly accentuated certain features the woman had. Perhaps finding a wife would be easier than he thought. He only had two more summers before he would be forced to marry a Highlander. At least his father had offered him a chance to find his own wife and to strengthen ties to another country. Upon reaching the baths, Trotek bowed deeply to the Harbinger, thanking her for the escort. He quickly cleaned himself up, and was again in the company of Maya, talking with her until he reached the rest of the invited guests.

Trotek is willing to talk to any other guests who make their way up to him. Just opening that up since we all just seem to be dealing with Tommy at the moment.[/QUOTE]



Kalus, quietly searching around the arriving delegations, noted a tall man, who seemed notably cool walking back towards the main delegation. He remembered this man, who was slightly taller than himself, as the head of the delegation of Mi'vara, a land known for its horses and hardy men. He was accompanied by, if he was not mistaken, a high ranking Alepoúsói, though for the life of him could not remember her name. By now, his group of around twenty had spread about, a few heading for the refreshment tables, while most gravitating towards other delegations.
Deciding to approach, Kalus walked forward, and spread his arms slightly.
"Well met, Emir Xalo, Harbinger. I am Kalus Mensus of Caligonia, and I am delighted to make your acquaintance. I trust that the baths here are as delightful as the hospitality we have been given?

[Minescratcher]

Martino pulled himself up onto the deck of the Red Arrow as it slowed to a stop, muttering under his breath. He didn't want to be here, but he hadn't exactly gotten any say in the matter. Father wasn't one to argue with when he was set on something. He would just have to make the best of this "hunt" and see how things went.

The young diplomat brushed his ruffled red tunic back into some semblance of order, watching the crowded harbor. It seemed that the "accident" with the tiller and the bucket of biscuits had perhaps lost them more time than he had thought. He sighed and stepped down the plank, flanked by four guardsmen in armor.

"It seems... I'm late. For a very important date." he said to the guards. "Marko, find the harbormaster and let him know we've finally arrived. The rest of you, we're going to take a look around this place."

With that, Martino adjusted the ruby-pommeled sword slung over his back, and strode off into the city, followed by three guards, one of whom carried a large heavy sack over his shoulder. He made straight for the gazebo, where it seemed there was a representative of the Estates greeting the dignitaries, and signaled the herald that stood behind him to announce him once there was an appropriate moment for the Senator to receive him. "I bring a gift to you as well, as a sign of our friendship. Twenty pounds of pure Thiole. It will be useful against all ills." he said afterwards, motioning to the guard carrying the sack.

[DimpleLoamsdown]

Maya's attempts to stifle laughter largely failed as a stray laugh escaped her lips. The fact that the gazebo was now filled with huge, shirtless men was a joke not lost on her, a subtle blush creeping into her cheeks. The Senator retained his kind smile.
The men who had been looking angrily now started laughing heartily and started conversing between each other in the native language of the Bearmen until the servants arrived with the food and drink. At this point, the men started eating and drinking politely, still partly laughing.


"The gift is most appreciated, dominus. Thank you. I hope you're travels have not been so sweaty the whole way. Would be most unkind for us to have put you through such. I'm not sure that is a custom that serves you well here, or anywhere further south for that matter... I do not believe we have formally introduced ourselves. I am Vajet Aëtius Patria, and I welcome you on behalf of the Curia Phœnīx. My giggling friend over here is Maya Lepída Patria, the Harbinger of the Alepoúsói."

As he finished, a number of servants arrive, trays covered in food and drink in hand.

"It is good to meet you, Senator Patria." Boris returned to his feet and shook both Patrias' hands, with a large amount of strength. He then began eating and drinking with the rest of the men, although he was still open to conversation with the Patrias, if they were to seek it. As he ate, Boris visibly grew more relaxed, and his muscles stopped shaking.

[Icilia]

"I... The Harbinger is the representative of the Alepoúsói on the Curia Phœnīx. I-I serve my people in the government and I'm the ranking Alepoúsói commander in the Alepoúsói Auxlia."

With Trotek's next question, Maya's blush only deepened. She looked flustered for a moment, her eyes moving or Trotek's face to his chest, and then down to the ground to avoid looking at him all together.

"No... Yeah, I suppose the heat. That's what it is. Well... I mean I am more use to it. But..."

A grateful look crossed her face when he inquired about her ears and tail.

"I'm an Alepoúsói, dominus. We just have them, it's what makes us Alepoúsói. We're the... 'fox', if you were, in the Fox Hunt. I'm told that Ananda claimed these were gifts of the Exalted, provided to bless us with cunning and wit. But that is just what I heard."

As they arrived at the bath, a servant scurried up, handing Trotek the hygiene products he needed before the Mi'varan entered the bath. With his departure, Maya let out a flustered sigh of relief. She was taken back by how flustered the foreigner had made her, and was unsure exactly why that was. She stood there, engrossed in her musing until the Mi'varan again emerged. Her gaze met his, and suddenly a panic set in. She had waited through his whole bath. Was that weird? Would he think that was weird?

"I... I-I decided to wait for you. I didn't know if you had paid attention to the route we took, and wanted to make sure you could get back without hassle..."


"Thank you for waiting. I will admit to paying more attention to you than the course we took. To be honest, my father sent me to negotiate, but his primary objective was for me to find a wife. I have two more years until by our laws I must marry a Highlander chief's daughter. Of course, if I am already wed, this becomes a null factor, and I'm sure my father would much prefer a diplomatic wedding with someone I'm at least interested in." Trotek was simply talking unreservedly now. He obviously felt comfortable enough with the Harbinger to speak out of place. He really was not fond of the idea of organising his own diplomatic wedding. But who was he to question the Khan?


Kalus, quietly searching around the arriving delegations, noted a tall man, who seemed notably cool walking back towards the main delegation. He remembered this man, who was slightly taller than himself, as the head of the delegation of Mi'vara, a land known for its horses and hardy men. He was accompanied by, if he was not mistaken, a high ranking Alepoúsói, though for the life of him could not remember her name. By now, his group of around twenty had spread about, a few heading for the refreshment tables, while most gravitating towards other delegations.
Deciding to approach, Kalus walked forward, and spread his arms slightly.
"Well met, Emir Xalo, Harbinger. I am Kalus Mensus of Caligonia, and I am delighted to make your acquaintance. I trust that the baths here are as delightful as the hospitality we have been given?

"Greetings Kalus of Caligonia. The baths were wonderful. I am not used to such luxury when it comes to bathing. In Mi'vara, one tries to not spend too much time in the bath least they catch a cold. And the hospitality has been just as good. The Harbinger here has been kind enough to indulge my questions without hesitation."

"If I'm not mistaken, you are from the far south, correct? I've heard that it gets awfully hot down there. This must be quite refreshing to be here."

[BootStrapTommy]

"Marvellous, yes. Yes. Thank you." Kahraman beamed brightly at the compliments, bowing again, partially to conceal his blushing. "A caretaker is also present, to see that my beloved Guncicegi is cared for during her labours. Also to assist in the training and upkeep of the pups afterwards. A stipend has been granted, so that you need not worry about providing room and board for the caretaker. You are, of course, free to dispatch the caretaker back to me, after the pups are born, if you would prefer a trainer of your own choosing. No offence will be taken at such an eventuality. No. No offence. Perish the thought."

Still smiling widely, Kahraman beams before the assembly. "Oh, but where are my manners. You have many guests. Yes. Yes, many guests indeed. How discourteous of me to hog your time and attention. Please, forgive my error. T'was a pleasure to make your acquaintance, and visit your beautiful home, and garden. A truly beautiful garden, please, if at all possible, if etiquette permits it, pass my compliments along to those responsible. Yes. yes, indeed. Thank you. I shall, with your leave, excuse myself now, as I see that many others await your attention. Yes. Yes, I shall now go mingle. A pleasure to meet you all." With a wide smile, and sweeping bow, Kahraman excuses himself, and wanders off to enjoy the garden, and to seek the refreshments."I assure you, Ozek Kahraman, that you did anything but waste out time and attentions. It was a pleasure metting you."

The Senator added. "I will be certain to pass along your appreciation to my gardeners. I think they will be most pleased to here. And may the rest of your stay be pleasant. If you ever need anything else, feel free to ask."


Kalus almost chuckles as he replies:
"As you honor us yourselves. We are glad to be well received this far from home, without the spectre of ruin over us.'

He gestures quickly over the city in the distance. " This is certainly a strange time for us, as it must be for you. I cannot remember the last time such a large gathering too place."

Then, from the corner of his eye, Kalus realised that an entire troop of instruments was approaching. He could not help but feel slightly outdone. Returning his gaze to the Suzerain, Kalus gave a longer bow than his first one.
" It would appear I may be holding up the proceedings, and my people would need some refreshment. I wish you great fortune with your other guests."
In truth, most Fox Hunts aren't much smaller. The event represents something of a great celebration among the Alepoúsói. It represents how far they have come, and what actions the Curia has taken on behalf of them in the years since the collapse of the Vajet's empire. The Suzerain replied.

The Senator's eyes moved toward the sounds of the instruments as well, then back to Kalus.

"Perhaps it is best. It was a pleasure to meet you, Kalus Mensus. We thank you for your attendence. Should you need anything else, just let us know."


The men who had been looking angrily now started laughing heartily and started conversing between each other in the native language of the Bearmen until the servants arrived with the food and drink. At this point, the men started eating and drinking politely, still partly laughing.

"It is good to meet you, Senator Patria." Boris returned to his feet and shook both Patrias' hands, with a large amount of strength. He then began eating and drinking with the rest of the men, although he was still open to conversation with the Patrias, if they were to seek it. As he ate, Boris visibly grew more relaxed, and his muscles stopped shaking.Maya's laughter picked up at Boris' comment, despite her attempts to contain it. The Senator's smile widened, as he spoke.

"If I might make a correction, Senator Patria is quite redundant. In the Demesne, Patria indicates a member of the ruling Patrician class. It is tagged on to a name in the manner that one might use 'sir" or 'lord', to indicate those of high standing."

Just as a heads up, technically Boris has yet to actually introduce himself. I mean, by context they know where he is from, but technically he has yet to say his name.

"Thank you for waiting. I will admit to paying more attention to you than the course we took. To be honest, my father sent me to negotiate, but his primary objective was for me to find a wife. I have two more years until by our laws I must marry a Highlander chief's daughter. Of course, if I am already wed, this becomes a null factor, and I'm sure my father would much prefer a diplomatic wedding with someone I'm at least interested in." Trotek was simply talking unreservedly now. He obviously felt comfortable enough with the Harbinger to speak out of place. He really was not fond of the idea of organising his own diplomatic wedding. But who was he to question the Khan?

"Greetings Kalus of Caligonia. The baths were wonderful. I am not used to such luxury when it comes to bathing. In Mi'vara, one tries to not spend too much time in the bath least they catch a cold. And the hospitality has been just as good. The Harbinger here has been kind enough to indulge my questions without hesitation."

"If I'm not mistaken, you are from the far south, correct? I've heard that it gets awfully hot down there. This must be quite refreshing to be here."Maya's eyes widened at the Mi'varans words, her pale skinned cheeks turning bright crimson at the foreigner's blunt stayement. She opened her mouth but words did not come out, making her look for a moment fish gasping for breath. A mild panic set in, as the implication of his words sank in.

"I.. I-I..."

The arrival of Kalus Mensus served as the socially floundering Alepoúsói's life preserver.

"A-a pleasure to meet you, Kalus Mensus. I hope you have traveled well."

Her eyes were now avoiding Trotek, blush still tinting her cheeks.


Martino pulled himself up onto the deck of the Red Arrow as it slowed to a stop, muttering under his breath. He didn't want to be here, but he hadn't exactly gotten any say in the matter. Father wasn't one to argue with when he was set on something. He would just have to make the best of this "hunt" and see how things went.

The young diplomat brushed his ruffled red tunic back into some semblance of order, watching the crowded harbor. It seemed that the "accident" with the tiller and the bucket of biscuits had perhaps lost them more time than he had thought. He sighed and stepped down the plank, flanked by four guardsmen in armor.

"It seems... I'm late. For a very important date." he said to the guards. "Marko, find the harbormaster and let him know we've finally arrived. The rest of you, we're going to take a look around this place."

With that, Martino adjusted the ruby-pommeled sword slung over his back, and strode off into the city, followed by three guards, one of whom carried a large heavy sack over his shoulder. He made straight for the gazebo, where it seemed there was a representative of the Estates greeting the dignitaries, and signaled the herald that stood behind him to announce him once there was an appropriate moment for the Senator to receive him. "I bring a gift to you as well, as a sign of our friendship. Twenty pounds of pure Thiole. It will be useful against all ills." he said afterwards, motioning to the guard carrying the sack.The Suzerain stood to greet him, nodding, as did the Senator.

"You're gift is greatly appreciated friend. Welcome to the Phœnīx Estates. I am Vajet Aëtius Patria of the Curia Phœnīx. I hope you have traveled well." The Senator greeted Martino. Behind him and Suzerain nodded. "And this is the Suzerain of the Curia, Doge of the Republic and Dux of the Estates."

"Light of the Exalted shine upon you, friend. Thank you for the gift. It will be put to good use, I assure you."

[Legionary]

The Suzerain let out a laugh, as he release the Lady's hand. His hand came around to his back. His white eyes remained on Isabella, unblinking.

"If you know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles. If you know yourself but not the enemy, for every victory gained you will also suffer a defeat. If you know neither the enemy nor yourself, you will succumb in every battle." The Suzerain let the words hang in the air for a moment. "Celessa is big, dominus. And it contains a great many people. It is better to know those people than to hide under pretenses of false security that borders and geography provide. I am quite acquainted with myself, Lady Isabella. I am not as well acquainted with the wider world as I'd like to be. So to answer your question, I sought to gain a measure of you, your father, and of the Duchy. I need to know who might be my friends, and who might be my enemies."

The Senator stood behind the Suzerain, a mildly uncomfortable look on his face as his smile seemed to fade. The Harbinger leaned on one of the beams supporting the gazebo, eyeing the Zhen prince as Sir Letho intercepted him.
"Wise words. Torn straight from the pages of ancient tomes. Though I suppose that does not make them ring less true," concedes Lady Isabella in an unimpressed tone. Her candid approach to the Suzerain was bordering disrespectful, yet at the same time she did not condescend him by masking her mistrust with her typical social flare.

"However, if all you wished was to gain a measure of the Duchy then I'd afraid that you are going about it all wrong approaching me. Ask instead our neighbors," states the Slavian noblewoman coldly as she casually gestures to a couple of surrounding diplomats. "They will tell you all we ever wanted you to know about Slavia."

"You have nothing, nothing and everything to fear from us. And instead of mere asking whom may be friend or foe, perhaps consider what actions would swing a nation to either mind set."


Perhaps it was a tad ironic that one of the closest peoples to those hosting event arrived so long after everyone else. But being late implied that one attempted to be there on time, which was something cautiously avoided by the inexperienced delegation sent out by the Barony of Seloris. For so long they had been wrapped up in their internal conflict that it was impossible to even consider the event something outside of a massive ruse. Some kind of trap, or an opportunity to size up their enemies. Never in Zelt was there a peaceful meeting with free food and no ulterior motive.

..But that is what the scouts had reported, at least so far. All the event seemed to be was a diplomatic party of sorts with nobles and riches and wine. Something totally unheard of due to the lack of both security and the required wealth in the land of Seloris. To host a party like that would be to throw your gold into the sewers and say farewell to the loyalty of any guardsmen you owned. They would be receiving no end of bribes during the time around the event. So hesitantly did word arrive, and the Baron himself was sent a message to report to the event as soon as he could to keep up with impressions. Thus came the hours of lateness in their arrival, but it was assumed that it mattered not; The important part was that he showed up at all.

Lord Vaerin arrived on foot, his horse and band of backup forces in case things got ugly posted by an inn within the city. They weren't to cause any trouble, but to keep an eye out for what might arise. Get a feel for this culture - To see if they were as vulnerable as they seemed. Despite any thoughts on their culture, it was impossible to deny that the Pheonix Estates built themselves a very nice city, and a large one at that. Vaerin was a man on the taller side of his own people, which was around average for most at the event. His face was well angled, nearly clear of blemishes save a scar that wove horizontally across from the bridge of his nose over to about the center of his right cheek. He had brown hair, which was worn back and of medium length - A hint of a natural wave giving him a rugged appearance when matched with his shorter trimmed facial hair. The man came wearing a light set of armor - And not the decorative kind. An expertly crafted black hide hauberk covered his chest, coupled with some more casual brown breeches beneath. A heavy sword coated in the lightest layer of gold lay against his hip, sheathed but still apparent to any who looked upon him.

Accompanying him was a group of four rough looking guards in lighter armor than most. Brandishing axes and shields on their person they seemed more ready for come kind of war than any diplomatic party. However, there was a fifth that did not match the others. Dressed in a blue robe and wearing a couple riches loosely, she made to point out to Vaerin who was who and how each had arrived. Nodding solemnly, the bandit lord made his way over to their host, nodding in respect as his delegation followed close behind him.

"The Barony of Seloris wishes you it's warmest greetings." Speaks Vaerin with a hint of amusement on his face. Each movement he made was decisive and confident despite the unfamiliarity with the situation, his posture echoing this apparent ease in the crowd of strangers. "I hope my lateness beings no offense to your peoples, as far as I understood you would rather I attended late than not at all.. Apparently most here bring gifts, but I would not be caught dead leaving my lands with any decent amount of valuables." A moment of silence passes, but he picks up again just before the host would themselves in turn. "Such is why I bring Sveta, my niece. You may keep her in her courts and do with her as you see fit - I will not impose any kind of diplomatic ties that may be unwelcome. Perhaps she would do well to be wed to one of your lords, or made to be a servant within your palace. I care not - Your whims are your own. ..But where are my manners; I am Vaerin, baron of Seloris and son Lord Falkar who was the first man to unify the country in many hundreds of years."

The girl in blue robes steps forwards, her complexion and skin tone matching Vaerin's shade of olive. She was emotionally trapped somewhere between excited and terrified to be given to a foreign country, even if they shared the same tongue and race. Sveta was shorter, but still fairly well endowed and pleasing to the eye. Even if she was to be given as a punishment, it almost seemed like a reward to be gifted to such a wealthy and seemingly peaceful people. Her dress hugged her figure but made no show of anything scandalous, descending midway to her knees and her collar resting just above where her cleavage would start. A lighter shade of brown hair fell down her back in modest curls, her face accented with a sparse amount of makeup to give her a more pleasing appearance. Glancing up to the host, she offered them a nervous smile before looking back to her uncle.
Letho's helm turns slowly upon the newly arrived Lord Vaerin, unsettlingly fixated upon the man. A low guttural growl could be faintly heard from behind his mask as the lumbering mass of armor begins to stride purposely towards the Selorisian delegate. The towering knight halts just a few feet away from Vaerin, looking down upon the bandit lord with seemingly menacing intent. His armored gauntlet shoots forth, however the his hand is open to offer the man a firm shake.

"Baron Vaerin," grunts Letho a gravelly and almost unnaturally deep voice. "I am Sir Letho Von Orlok the Younger, son of Baron Letho Von Orlok the Elder." As he speaks, the armor clad behemoth removes his masked helm to reveal his face. Perhaps it would have been better remaining covered however, as the man that now looks down upon Vaerin is an unsettling sight to behold. A grotesque and battered head, with what little hair atop it shaved into a short mohawk, the complexion of his eerily pale skin like that of a corpse. The right eye socket remains empty and the scarring on that side suggest that this incredibly ugly man was once struck in the head by what must have been a mighty blow.

"I once met your father, Lord Falkar. Many years ago, alongside my father. It pleases me to see the banners of Seloris at this affair. There are far too many Southerners and outlanders here for my tastes," Letho admits with open disdain.

[BootStrapTommy]

"Wise words. Torn straight from the pages of ancient tomes. Though I suppose that does not make them ring less true," concedes Lady Isabella in an unimpressed tone. Her candid approach to the Suzerain was bordering disrespectful, yet at the same time she did not condescend him by masking her mistrust with her typical social flare.

"However, if all you wished was to gain a measure of the Duchy then I'd afraid that you are going about it all wrong approaching me. Ask instead our neighbors," states the Slavian noblewoman coldly as she casually gestures to a couple of surrounding diplomats. "They will tell you all we ever wanted you to know about Slavia."

"You have nothing, nothing and everything to fear from us. And instead of mere asking whom may be friend or foe, perhaps consider what actions would swing a nation to either mind set.""I was quoting an old personal friend, Lady Isabella. I do suppose he may have written it down before he passed." The Suzerain quipped candidly in response.

His eyes continued to study the Lady intensely, still not blinking. There was a curiosity in them, as they studied the features of Isabella's face visible through her veil. The mask, however, hide whatever expression might be on his face.

"I'm not interested in what you want me to know, dominus. I learn more with each word you speak and each action you take, much of which I would never gleam from what rumors and whispers your neighbors might exchange. Here you are dismissing my inquiries, yet you've traveled so very far to be so dismissive. That speaks volumes. And as for letting actions speak? One must know something of another to know what actions whisper sweetest in their ear."

[Mechalich]

The Suzerain reached out to accept the gift, taking a moment to examine it. He was silent for a moment, before her finally responded.

"'Tis a magnificent gift. Thank you." He continued to look over the horn as the Princess spoke, running his fingers along its length. When she was done, he looked up.

"I'll admit that I don't actually do a whole lot around here." The Suzerain quipped. "By all means, don't let me or the Senator hold you up. I will be around if you decide you have any further business. Thank you again for the gift. Please pass my thanks on to your father."

Fena felt slightly foolish as she scuttled away from the Suzerain. Foolish she scolded herself. Provincial. Thankfully the gathering had grown significantly more crowded and she was easily able to slip back into the flow without any obvious embarrassment, or so she thought at least.

Pausing for a time, she studied the delegations as they arrived. There were many, indeed, considerably more than her family had initially expected. And the heathens! Kunists and Sarvochists were one thing, theological disputes aside they all walked in the light of the exalted, but there were true pagans here, and from more than one state. The idea of such persons walking the grounds of the holy city set her blood to fire.

Fena was a princess, and trained to control herself. Even so, she knew it was best to avoid talking to such persons lest she say something embarrassing. She passed her handmaid a quite order to have her Saru-Kisi guard leave the affair go get drunk with the city guards. Best to avoid the possibility of incident.

That matter taken care of she turned her gaze through the crowd once more. Most of the representatives were from kingdoms far from Yssa, secondary concerns at best. Instead, she turned her attention to a large party, portions of which she glimpsed earlier – they were hard to avoid seeing – dressed in the bright and, from her perspective scandalous, fashions of Zhentanna.
She caught sight of the prince, and a female companion whose appearance forced her to swallow deeply against the blight of envy, near the Suzerain and a delegation who bore colors she recognized as belonging to Slavia, one of whom the Prince was staring at intently.

Curious, she edged closer.

[DimpleLoamsdown]

Maya's laughter picked up at Boris' comment, despite her attempts to contain it.

As soon as this happened, all of the Bearmen in the gazebo went silent.


The Senator's smile widened, as he spoke.
[COLOR="#2F4F4F"]"If I might make a correction, Senator Patria is quite redundant. In the Demesne, Patria indicates a member of the ruling Patrician class. It is tagged on to a name in the manner that one might use 'sir" or 'lord', to indicate those of high standing."

Just as a heads up, technically Boris has yet to actually introduce himself. I mean, by context they know where he is from, but technically he has yet to say his name.

Boris's face remained the same, ignoring the laughter of Maya, as she was probably intoxicated and incapable of speaking, other than in laughter at foreign guests, whose presence might mean something for the future of both nations. "Yes. Forgive me, Boris of Medved for my error. I will seek to not make that same mistake again, Patria."


[COLOR="#A9A9A9"]Trotek is willing to talk to any other guests who make their way up to him. Just opening that up since we all just seem to be dealing with Tommy at the moment.

I was actually just about to talk to you and was reading your post when I saw this spoiler.:smalltongue:

A young Strongmen, maybe twenty years old, approached the Mi'varan delegation. He was seven and a half feet tall and as usual for Strongmen, he was very strong. He had long black hair, as dark as the night, tied tightly into a ponytail on the back of his head. On his head sat a gold band, lined with fur, designating the man as an heir to Land of Bearmen's royalty. Across the left side of his chest, the man had a tattoo, which looked like a bear's head, made in black ink"Ahoy!" he called out as he approached the Mi'varans. "I am Vlad, of Medved, and the shortest of all of my brothers. My father sent me to speak with you about both of our countries' futures, as we are neighbors."

[Zayuz]

Senator Aëtius maintained a smile as the Seloris delegation approached. The man had most certainly encountered Selorians before in his years as an Equestrian, so he was well acquainted with the lawless people of the northeast. Concern, however, grew in his eyes, though not directed at the foreigners. He glanced over toward the Harbingers, who stared at Lord Vaerin with open and vitriol contempt. Maya's gaze turned toward the Suzerain, who stood leaning against the gazebo, attending to the bird that sat on his arm. She hissed through gritted teeth.

"You invited Selorians?"

The Suzerain stepped forward, placing a finger on Maya's lips, silencing her. He continued forward, approaching Vaerin. He was taller than the Selorian, his eerie white eyes peering down through the ivory, handprinted mask. The phœnīx remained perched on his arm.

"Greetings, Lord Vaerin. And welcome. Your gift is... unorthodox, to say the least. But it is most certainly welcome. I'm sure I will find a fitting use," his cold gaze moved to the young woman momentarily, "for young Sveta. As for your tardiness, it is of no concern. When I sent you an invitation, I was unsure whether you would be able to make it. Your attendance is a pleasure, and I thank you for making the journey. I hope it was an uneventful one."

The Suzerain's gaze traveled to the bird, which he seemed to groom a moment, something in his hand. He paused for a bit, before making an inquiry, a pensive note to his voice.

"Were you aware, Lord Vaerin, that phœnīxes can speak?"


The baron snickered at Maya's displeasure, tempted to force a small jab at her diplomatic skills with them being the far more experienced of the two.. But even Vaerin knew his limits. It was a surprise that he was not instructed to leave, let alone for his 'gift' to be accepted and to make small-talk with the host. In fact, this was so far from what had been expected that he had made no plans for follow up conversation or any meetings with other nobility. It seemed that the Phoenix peoples sought to play an interesting game.

"I take it that you'll use her well one way or another.. And uneventful is certainly was - You'd think that even the birds in the sky were avoiding us, but it seems this one is too well trained for that." He tilted his head slightly towards the phoenix, the mascot of their country. It was a unique and beautiful animal - Though he did not yet know if it was valuable or not. Keeping one as a pet likely meant a fair degree of skill in falconry as well as status. "Speaking of birds, are there many phoenixes present in your castle? I admit I've neglected to look much upwards since I've arrived. I can imagine a great many uses from gaining winged scouts to carry messages and such.. Perhaps had I a bird instead of a man I might have arrived in a more timely fashion." He took a moment to look back to one of the men in his guard, who sheepishly looks away to the floor. He couldn't make his horse ride any faster than it did, but did he ever wish it could.

Sveta glanced around hesitantly and crossed over to the side of their hosts during the conversation, smiling weakly to Maya as if to tell her that she wouldn't cause any trouble.


Letho's helm turns slowly upon the newly arrived Lord Vaerin, unsettlingly fixated upon the man. A low guttural growl could be faintly heard from behind his mask as the lumbering mass of armor begins to stride purposely towards the Selorisian delegate. The towering knight halts just a few feet away from Vaerin, looking down upon the bandit lord with seemingly menacing intent. His armored gauntlet shoots forth, however the his hand is open to offer the man a firm shake.

"Baron Vaerin," grunts Letho a gravelly and almost unnaturally deep voice. "I am Sir Letho Von Orlok the Younger, son of Baron Letho Von Orlok the Elder." As he speaks, the armor clad behemoth removes his masked helm to reveal his face. Perhaps it would have been better remaining covered however, as the man that now looks down upon Vaerin is an unsettling sight to behold. A grotesque and battered head, with what little hair atop it shaved into a short mohawk, the complexion of his eerily pale skin like that of a corpse. The right eye socket remains empty and the scarring on that side suggest that this incredibly ugly man was once struck in the head by what must have been a mighty blow.

"I once met your father, Lord Falkar. Many years ago, alongside my father. It pleases me to see the banners of Seloris at this affair. There are far too many Southerners and outlanders here for my tastes," Letho admits with open disdain.

Vaerin turned to gaze upon the towering man, clad in a solid mass of armor that he thought to be quite impressive. Had every man in his army a set like that then they would be raiding entire nations - Not simply trade routes and monasteries. The lord only showed his slight fear of the man through veiled micro-expressions, his head tilting slightly further back on his arrival, his shoulders tensing just an ounce when he met his handshake.. Even though he approached in a manner quite possibly as friendly as possible given his size he was still rather intimidating. "Well met Sir Letho Von Orlok the Younger, a friend of my father is a friend of mine. Would you prefer I use your full title to address you, or shall I use something a bit shorter? It might be hard to warn you of any approaching outlandish delegates otherwise." He smiled slightly, telling a half joke more to relax himself than the partner of discussion.

Quickly he would shift the topic, moving to something more along both their areas of expertise. War. "Your appearance would give me the impression that you've fought in many a battle for your peoples, glad am I that they have not been with the Selorians on the other end of the field." His tone moved to someplace less cautious than before, speaking more naturally as he worked to eliminate any trace of fear he once had. As far as composure went, he liked to think himself fairly experienced. Sir Orlok was certainly something else to shake him of that stable footing.

Recently the Baron had been surveying other provinces in hopes of laying claim to their lands - Evaluating their approximate strength and determining what resources might be of use to him. Apparently expanding south and east were the paths of least resistance, but if he had an ally like the Duchy of Slavia both armies would likely get a grab at whatever territory they pleased.. The key was making sure both partners honored the agreement, and getting them to fight in the first place. Quickly he formed a plan in his head, taking Slavia's position in the bay and evaluating how they might cross it.. And then if they stretched north past Aerok to aid them in taking the more heavily defended region.. Yes. That would do. He would have to offer some sort of proposal to them before the end of the evening. This gathering might not turn up so fruitless after all.

[BootStrapTommy]

As soon as this happened, all of the Bearmen in the gazebo went silent.

Boris's face remained the same, ignoring the laughter of Maya, as she was probably intoxicated and incapable of speaking, other than in laughter at foreign guests, whose presence might mean something for the future of both nations. "Yes. Forgive me, Boris of Medved for my error. I will seek to not make that same mistake again, Patria."The Senator eyed Maya with some annoyance, before returning a smile to Boris.

"It is no great issue. Well met, Boris of Medved. I hope you traveled well. And that your men enjoy the food and refreshments. I admit, I know very little of your lands and your people, and would be curious to remedy that, so I might education my peers in the Curia."


The baron snickered at Maya's displeasure, tempted to force a small jab at her diplomatic skills with them being the far more experienced of the two.. But even Vaerin knew his limits. It was a surprise that he was not instructed to leave, let alone for his 'gift' to be accepted and to make small-talk with the host. In fact, this was so far from what had been expected that he had made no plans for follow up conversation or any meetings with other nobility. It seemed that the Phoenix peoples sought to play an interesting game.

"I take it that you'll use her well one way or another.. And uneventful is certainly was - You'd think that even the birds in the sky were avoiding us, but it seems this one is too well trained for that." He tilted his head slightly towards the phoenix, the mascot of their country. It was a unique and beautiful animal - Though he did not yet know if it was valuable or not. Keeping one as a pet likely meant a fair degree of skill in falconry as well as status. "Speaking of birds, are there many phoenixes present in your castle? I admit I've neglected to look much upwards since I've arrived. I can imagine a great many uses from gaining winged scouts to carry messages and such.. Perhaps had I a bird instead of a man I might have arrived in a more timely fashion." He took a moment to look back to one of the men in his guard, who sheepishly looks away to the floor. He couldn't make his horse ride any faster than it did, but did he ever wish it could.

Sveta glanced around hesitantly and crossed over to the side of their hosts during the conversation, smiling weakly to Maya as if to tell her that she wouldn't cause any trouble.The Suzerain's attentions remained on the bird.

"There are not a great many, and those there are tend to be kept track of. Most live farther into into the mountains. But be glad you did not arrive at time where one illustrated to you exactly why Rhune is called the City of Flame."

The Suzerain's eyes moved from the bird, back to his guest. The white orbs seemed to study the bandit lord, unblinking. The Suzerain let out a curt laugh. He held up the object in his hand, revealing a small scroll.

"Funny you should inquire about carrying messages. That's what I meant by them being able to speak. And this one? She told me quite the tale to tell, Lord Vaerin. Seems Senator Stilicho, in the city, has made a rather interesting discovery."

He let the words linger for moment, as his eyes meet Vaerin's.

"Why exactly are you hiding troops in my city, Lord Vaerin?"

[QuintonBeck]

The Senator smiled, sinking back into his seat beside Liora, his gaze falling on her as the gifts were presented. His smile widened, his hand gesturing a signal to a nearby servant to fetch food and drink for the new arrivals.

"On behalf of the Curia, I thank you, Prince Jarah. You gifts are most appreciated."

A tall, dark figure emerged from the tree near the edge of the gazebo. His arm was held up, a large avian perched on his forearm, its eyes darting curiously between those present. It was a large raptor, possessing of maroon colored feathers with orange and yellow edges. Long flowing tail feathers draped down from it's tail. The figure, whose face was hidden behind an ivory mask, settled next to the Harbinger, his eyes darting from the Alepoúsó to the bird. Maya looked at the bird with some wonder on her face.

"I coaxed in out of a tree over there. A rather magnificent specimen, apparently took residence in the garden."

"Oh, Suzerain, how fortunate. May I introduce you to the Prince of Kinneret and Zhentanna. He bears gifts, dominus. Stories, books, and a flower from his lands. Prince, may I introduce you to the Suzerain of the Curia Phœnīx, the Dux of the Phœnīx Estates?"

The Suzerain's white eyes fell upon the Senator, then darted around the gazebo suddenly aware of the many ladies of Zhentanna. His eyes soon fell upon the Prince, though not his face but his forehead. They lingered there for a moment, before moving onto the gifts. The Suzerain stepped forward, his eyes fixed upon the chest of knowledge. He stepped forward, the bird hopping up his arm to his shoulder as her got close to the Prince. His eyes finally came up to meet Jarah's gaze.

"Well meet, Prince Jarah Sanu Ina Abahar. I hope that the Exalted saw your travels well, and that your visit has been pleasant, and will continue to be."


“Exalted’s light upon you, Suzerain,” Jarah bowed his head respectfully to the masked figure quietly pleased that he had drawn the mysterious leader’s attention, “That is a gorgeous creature Suzerain,” the Prince said looking towards the phoenix on the masked man’s shoulder.

“And not the only gorgeous creature in these gardens,” Liora whispered in the Senator’s ear accompanied by her hand sliding down the Senator’s arm to twine her fingers with his.

“What species is that? I’m afraid we have dreadfully few birds of much beauty in Zhentanna,” Jarah seemed not to notice Liora’s advances as he studied the dark red feathers of the phoenix with serious interest.



Jarah is drawn in closer and closer to Lady Isabella, only to promptly find himself staring straight into the dull breastplate of the towering giant that blocked his path. Sir Letho Von Orlok the Younger. The nephew of the infamous Black Duke, cousin to Lady Isabella, and unsurprisingly the son of the Slavian Baron, Letho Von Orlok the Elder. His reputation did not extend beyond the borders of his native land, however perhaps that was for the better considering the ill renowned that the Von Orloks were known to cultivate. The towering juggernaut of steel looks down upon the Prince of Zhentanna with silent indifference, unfazed by the man's social prominence or status. Unlike his fellow knights of Slavia that have begun to draw labored breaths under their heavy plate armor in this afternoon heat, the eerily mute being behind this mask remains as quiet as the grave, like a statue or unwavering golem. Whatever his reasons, it is clear that he would not yet allow Jarah to approach the Slavian noblewoman.


Jarah reached out softly touching the hard steel breastplate of the giant man that had interceded himself between Jarah and the mysterious pale woman. He patted the metal armor a couple of times as if testing its corporealness and looked up to try and see the face of the giant only to find a closed helm. The Prince’s face spread into a wide friendly smile as he looked up at the mountain of a man who stood before him.

“Hello sir, are you attached to the retinue of that young lady standing behind you? I desire to speak with your lady if you will allow it? I am Prince Jarah of Kinneret and Zhentanna, a kingdom of much richness and beauty. It would be my pleasure to discuss what my lands might share to our mutual benefit.”

Liora looked about for potential routes of escape as she was dragged along by the Prince and as Jarah began to speak with the steel giant and released her wrist she took the opportunity to slip away. She considered returning to the Senator, she suspected he would be ready to forsake any vows of matrimony or duty to be with her now that she had appeared and disappeared so quickly but she wasn’t sure she was ready to retreat to the bedroom quite yet. Instead she wandered the crowd, looking for anyone of interest and despite Jarah’s dismissive attitude she kept an eye out for Gleiss’s representatives. She hoped she might be able to negotiate a trade agreement herself that she might use such a feat to garner favor back in Zhentanna.


Perhaps it was a tad ironic that one of the closest peoples to those hosting event arrived so long after everyone else. But being late implied that one attempted to be there on time, which was something cautiously avoided by the inexperienced delegation sent out by the Barony of Seloris. For so long they had been wrapped up in their internal conflict that it was impossible to even consider the event something outside of a massive ruse. Some kind of trap, or an opportunity to size up their enemies. Never in Zelt was there a peaceful meeting with free food and no ulterior motive.

..But that is what the scouts had reported, at least so far. All the event seemed to be was a diplomatic party of sorts with nobles and riches and wine. Something totally unheard of due to the lack of both security and the required wealth in the land of Seloris. To host a party like that would be to throw your gold into the sewers and say farewell to the loyalty of any guardsmen you owned. They would be receiving no end of bribes during the time around the event. So hesitantly did word arrive, and the Baron himself was sent a message to report to the event as soon as he could to keep up with impressions. Thus came the hours of lateness in their arrival, but it was assumed that it mattered not; The important part was that he showed up at all.

Lord Vaerin arrived on foot, his horse and band of backup forces in case things got ugly posted by an inn within the city. They weren't to cause any trouble, but to keep an eye out for what might arise. Get a feel for this culture - To see if they were as vulnerable as they seemed. Despite any thoughts on their culture, it was impossible to deny that the Pheonix Estates built themselves a very nice city, and a large one at that. Vaerin was a man on the taller side of his own people, which was around average for most at the event. His face was well angled, nearly clear of blemishes save a scar that wove horizontally across from the bridge of his nose over to about the center of his right cheek. He had brown hair, which was worn back and of medium length - A hint of a natural wave giving him a rugged appearance when matched with his shorter trimmed facial hair. The man came wearing a light set of armor - And not the decorative kind. An expertly crafted black hide hauberk covered his chest, coupled with some more casual brown breeches beneath. A heavy sword coated in the lightest layer of gold lay against his hip, sheathed but still apparent to any who looked upon him.

Accompanying him was a group of four rough looking guards in lighter armor than most. Brandishing axes and shields on their person they seemed more ready for come kind of war than any diplomatic party. However, there was a fifth that did not match the others. Dressed in a blue robe and wearing a couple riches loosely, she made to point out to Vaerin who was who and how each had arrived. Nodding solemnly, the bandit lord made his way over to their host, nodding in respect as his delegation followed close behind him.

"The Barony of Seloris wishes you it's warmest greetings." Speaks Vaerin with a hint of amusement on his face. Each movement he made was decisive and confident despite the unfamiliarity with the situation, his posture echoing this apparent ease in the crowd of strangers. "I hope my lateness beings no offense to your peoples, as far as I understood you would rather I attended late than not at all.. Apparently most here bring gifts, but I would not be caught dead leaving my lands with any decent amount of valuables." A moment of silence passes, but he picks up again just before the host would themselves in turn. "Such is why I bring Sveta, my niece. You may keep her in her courts and do with her as you see fit - I will not impose any kind of diplomatic ties that may be unwelcome. Perhaps she would do well to be wed to one of your lords, or made to be a servant within your palace. I care not - Your whims are your own. ..But where are my manners; I am Vaerin, baron of Seloris and son Lord Falkar who was the first man to unify the country in many hundreds of years."

The girl in blue robes steps forwards, her complexion and skin tone matching Vaerin's shade of olive. She was emotionally trapped somewhere between excited and terrified to be given to a foreign country, even if they shared the same tongue and race. Sveta was shorter, but still fairly well endowed and pleasing to the eye. Even if she was to be given as a punishment, it almost seemed like a reward to be gifted to such a wealthy and seemingly peaceful people. Her dress hugged her figure but made no show of anything scandalous, descending midway to her knees and her collar resting just above where her cleavage would start. A lighter shade of brown hair fell down her back in modest curls, her face accented with a sparse amount of makeup to give her a more pleasing appearance. Glancing up to the host, she offered them a nervous smile before looking back to her uncle.
https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/08/fb/64/08fb641617e57a21c9e1a65be5926f8e.jpg
Later in the evening

Most all of the guests had now arrived and the expansive gardens of the Phoenix Estates looked to almost be at capacity. Jarah was well pleased by this for it meant many opportunities to meet potential new trading partners and allies. The Zhen were not a warlike people but they had long appreciated the necessity for armed deterrence so it was to the kingdom’s benefit to ally with those warlike peoples with enough sense to take a bribe rather than risk life and limb attacking the river valley. Far better to let others die for material wealth than to lose a citizen to an unnecessary war.

It was while having this thought that Jarah spotted a man dressed to fight with a large scar running across his otherwise handsome visage. He could have been mistaken for another delegation’s head of security if not for the golden sword belted at his waist and the respect being shown the thuggish brute by the host’s attendants. Jarah had heard a number of stories about war looming on the horizon from the returned scouts and explorers but the Yssians were the only army builders close enough to give the Zhen pause. Whoever this man was he was a foreign warrior and types such as him often appreciated a man of letters and numbers shoring up where he himself might falter.

Jarah approached the Selorian delegation with a smile and his hands each carrying a glass of local wine.

“Have you ever seen a place so full of the odd and eccentric?” He addressed the leading warrior with an offer of one of the wine glasses.

[Lleban]

The servant gestured for Ullana Musa to follow, and directed her toward the gazebo where Senator Aëtius was having a discussion with Suzerain. The Senator reacted first, stepping forward to greet the Baalbek dignitaries as they were announced with a bow.

"Greeting, friends. Welcome to the City of Flame. I do hope that your travels were well, and that your stay so far has been pleasant. I am Vajet Aëtius Patria, and on behalf of the Curia Phœnīx I welcome you to the Estates. Might I introduce you to the Phœnīx Suzerain, Doge of the Republic and Dux of the Estates. We are both so happy to make your acquaintance."

Behind him, the Suzerain made a curt bow, but did not speak. He examined the newcomers with his strange white eyes.

Ullana curtly addressed this presumptuous interloper, if only to quiet him. "Ah yes my travels were smooth as a desert foxes pelt." After Ullana clapped three times, her manservant barreled through the dignitaries with several large mahogany boxes. As she opens the smallest a small golden crown lined with perals and glass vials of alchemically treated water "I present to the a crown worthy of a true doge and humbly resquest that you claim ALL THE SOULS OF BAALBEK. Please evangelize our country and rid our people of the cacophony of backward corrupt beliefs my countrymen DARE SAY IN THE SAME SENTENCE AS A TRUE FAITH so that we may come together as a true nation." In any other setting these words would have caused her to be stripped of rank, but the Shishiyan faction of the council needed this, she needed this.

[BootStrapTommy]

Ullana curtly addressed this presumptuous interloper, if only to quiet him. "Ah yes my travels were smooth as a desert foxes pelt." After Ullana clapped three times, her manservant barreled through the dignitaries with several large mahogany boxes. As she opens the smallest a small golden crown lined with perals and glass vials of alchemically treated water "I present to the a crown worthy of a true doge and humbly resquest that you claim ALL THE SOULS OF BAALBEK. Please evangelize our country and rid our people of the cacophony of backward corrupt beliefs my countrymen DARE SAY IN THE SAME SENTENCE AS A TRUE FAITH so that we may come together as a true nation." In any other setting these words would have caused her to be stripped of rank, but the Shishiyan faction of the council needed this, she needed this.The Senator turned and looked at the Suzerain.

"She did ask nicely."

The Suzerain looked over Ullana pensively.

"You're gifts are most appreciated. It is a truly magnificent crown." He paused for a moment, before inquiring. "And what kind of reception would such missionaries be like to to meet in you lands, dominus?"


“Exalted’s light upon you, Suzerain,” Jarah bowed his head respectfully to the masked figure quietly pleased that he had drawn the mysterious leader’s attention, “That is a gorgeous creature Suzerain,” the Prince said looking towards the phoenix on the masked man’s shoulder.

“And not the only gorgeous creature in these gardens,” Liora whispered in the Senator’s ear accompanied by her hand sliding down the Senator’s arm to twine her fingers with his.

“What species is that? I’m afraid we have dreadfully few birds of much beauty in Zhentanna,” Jarah seemed not to notice Liora’s advances as he studied the dark red feathers of the phoenix with serious interest.The Senator's smile widen, smitten, his eyes following the curves of the Zhen's body.

"'Tis indeed true, my dear."

The Suzerain met the Prince's gaze, his white eyes unblinking as he spoke.

"A phœnīx. Strange and magnificent creatures. Do you know much of them?"

[lt_murgen]

This was the maiden voyage of the Sabedoria Cochero. The Ilhéuso trade catamarans, with their distinctive lime green, 2-spar lanteen sails, were common sights up and down the XX coast. The Sabedoria was much grander than the common cargo-hauler. A true trimaran, it sported a large central hull bracketed by outriggers. The distinctive crab-claw sails were supplemented by a flying spinnaker, emblazoned with the colors of the Grasping Isles. A webbed floor stretched between the outriggers and the cross-spars, and was loaded with cargo. It was nearly 40 feet long and 25 foot at the beam, stretching the limits of their build prowess.

Felipe Eusebio Ventura, Tito Nicodemo of the Grasping Isles, was proud of his homeland’s creation. He had spent months mediating between Gilde Carregador and Gilde Guerreiro. The cargo hauler’s were convinced that having two areas for cargo and a larger central hull would be hugely profitable. Gilde Guerriero pushed hard to keep the traditional twin-pontoon design with the cargo floor between them. This allowed the crew to stay on the large pontoons with no obstructions to the waterline. Trimarans would be much harder to defend from attack. They forced the sailors across the webbed cargo floor and onto the smaller outriggers. Both sides had valid points. But Felipe pressed his vision- peaceful trade and transportation. This was not to be a warship- HIS leadership would not be warlike.

The Sabedoria easily found a docking spot in Fall Harbor. It bore a draft of less than four feet. Felipe chose not to wait for a docking ramp. Instead, he scampered with practiced ease along the cross-spar then leapt easily dock. He was originally a carregadoro and grew up moving cargo. His strong muscles were tempered only by decades of swimming and climbing. He dressed simply, if elegantly. Well tailored breeches reached down to his knees, met by long, strappy sandles that buckled over his woolen hose all the way up his calf. A high-necked brocade vest with many tiny pearl buttons extended to mid calf. Underneath, a fine, almost transparent linen shirt held tight at the neck and wrist. Atop his head he sported the Ilhéuso native visefea, his long black hair cascading over it and down his sun-tanned, promontories of cheekbones. He was not a wealthy man. Most of his wealth was well invested in the guildworks of his homeland. But he did allow himself one concession- a half cloak of the finest silk, clasped with a gold and gemstone chain.

He smiled and chatted with the dockworkers as the rest of his party gathered. Here were his people- the porters and riggers, the sail-menders and harried blacksmiths. His own crew laughed and chatted with him as they unloaded. He was well respected by the transport guild. Several of his entourage, particularly the trade guild representatives, looked askance at him. But he was their leader, for better or worse.


Once gathered, they made their way on foot to the event. Their sojourn through the city and the bazaar was not a quick one. Traders at heart, every stall and tent demanding investigation. The arrived late, with the party well underway. As everyone seemed engaged at the moment, he dismissed his entourage and waited patiently for an opportunity to arise.

[DimpleLoamsdown]

The Senator eyed Maya with some annoyance, before returning a smile to Boris.

"It is no great issue. Well met, Boris of Medved. I hope you traveled well. And that your men enjoy the food and refreshments. I admit, I know very little of your lands and your people, and would be curious to remedy that, so I might education my peers in the Curia."

"Where I come from, as you might have guessed, is much, much colder than here. I come from far north eastern lands, known as Land of Bearmen." Boris described the Bearmen culture briefly, but did not mention the goblin vermin problem, or any other negative aspects of the country. He finished off by talking about his family and how he had seven sons, two of which were married.

[QuintonBeck]

The Senator's smile widen, smitten, his eyes following the curves of the Zhen's body.

"'Tis indeed true, my dear."

The Suzerain met the Prince's gaze, his white eyes unblinking as he spoke.

"A phœnīx. Strange and magnificent creatures. Do you know much of them?"


"A phoenix? No, I'm afraid I'm not very knowledgeable though I have heard the name. What stories I have heard do not do this beast justice. Might I touch his feathers do you think?" Jarah lifted a tentative hand in the direction of the phoenix, "It must truly be a magnificent bird for your kingdom to share its name."

Liora was now snuggly entrenched in the Senator's lap. Her lips brushed his ear as she whispered an invitation to meet again when night had settled. The other dancers carried out similar routines throughout the gazebo with a number of seemingly rich or influential men and women of the Curia. Jarah paid their flirtations no mind, well accustomed to Zhen diplomacy. Even though he himself did not so readily employ such methods he recognized the value they brought. A pleasant evening was sometimes all it took to prevent a war or seal a trade negotiation and Jarah would not stand in the way of that.

[Legionary]

"I was quoting an old personal friend, Lady Isabella. I do suppose he may have written it down before he passed." The Suzerain quipped candidly in response.

His eyes continued to study the Lady intensely, still not blinking. There was a curiosity in them, as they studied the features of Isabella's face visible through her veil. The mask, however, hide whatever expression might be on his face.

"I'm not interested in what you want me to know, dominus. I learn more with each word you speak and each action you take, much of which I would never gleam from what rumors and whispers your neighbors might exchange. Here you are dismissing my inquiries, yet you've traveled so very far to be so dismissive. That speaks volumes. And as for letting actions speak? One must know something of another to know what actions whisper sweetest in their ear."


"My sincerest apologies then Suzerain, but I'm afraid that dismissive is just the course circumstance has guided me down. I best leave you to your studies then, lest those sweetest whispers elude you. For I do so long hear them. Just don't be too slow in your pursuit of them. If you are anything like me, you might find time pass before you without realizing it," Isabella smiles coyly as she makes her departure, leaving that last line for the Suzerain to interpret by his lonesome.


Jarah reached out softly touching the hard steel breastplate of the giant man that had interceded himself between Jarah and the mysterious pale woman. He patted the metal armor a couple of times as if testing its corporealness and looked up to try and see the face of the giant only to find a closed helm. The Prince’s face spread into a wide friendly smile as he looked up at the mountain of a man who stood before him.

“Hello sir, are you attached to the retinue of that young lady standing behind you? I desire to speak with your lady if you will allow it? I am Prince Jarah of Kinneret and Zhentanna, a kingdom of much richness and beauty. It would be my pleasure to discuss what my lands might share to our mutual benefit.”

Liora looked about for potential routes of escape as she was dragged along by the Prince and as Jarah began to speak with the steel giant and released her wrist she took the opportunity to slip away. She considered returning to the Senator, she suspected he would be ready to forsake any vows of matrimony or duty to be with her now that she had appeared and disappeared so quickly but she wasn’t sure she was ready to retreat to the bedroom quite yet. Instead she wandered the crowd, looking for anyone of interest and despite Jarah’s dismissive attitude she kept an eye out for Gleiss’s representatives. She hoped she might be able to negotiate a trade agreement herself that she might use such a feat to garner favor back in Zhentanna.
Jarah's words seem wasted on the towering behemoth that continues to stand with silent indifference. It is uncertain if he was even going to acknowledge the prince, however luckily for Jarah the noblewoman that had caught his eye seemed to have now concluded her business with the Suzerain. She turns leave, approaching the stand off at her own leisurely pace.

"Lady Isabella Von Orlok, daughter of Lord Vladimir Von Orlok, Duke of Shamaran, loyal only to it's true bloodline of kings, and ruler of the Duchy of Slavia," announces the young woman as she introduces herself in the courtly fashion. Her facial expressions are muted by the black veil that covers her face, but there is something enticing in the way she whispers her honeyed words.

"What a pleasure it is to make the acquaintance of a Prince of Zhentanna. It must have been centuries since such a meeting of our people, something not seen since the days of the Kings of Shamaran," ponders Isabella aloud, making for polite conversation. "Tell me how does the sun kissed south fare? What dominates the affairs of far and exotic lands?" she inquires enthusiastically, a sly smile on her painted black lips.


Vaerin turned to gaze upon the towering man, clad in a solid mass of armor that he thought to be quite impressive. Had every man in his army a set like that then they would be raiding entire nations - Not simply trade routes and monasteries. The lord only showed his slight fear of the man through veiled micro-expressions, his head tilting slightly further back on his arrival, his shoulders tensing just an ounce when he met his handshake.. Even though he approached in a manner quite possibly as friendly as possible given his size he was still rather intimidating. "Well met Sir Letho Von Orlok the Younger, a friend of my father is a friend of mine. Would you prefer I use your full title to address you, or shall I use something a bit shorter? It might be hard to warn you of any approaching outlandish delegates otherwise." He smiled slightly, telling a half joke more to relax himself than the partner of discussion.

Quickly he would shift the topic, moving to something more along both their areas of expertise. War. "Your appearance would give me the impression that you've fought in many a battle for your peoples, glad am I that they have not been with the Selorians on the other end of the field." His tone moved to someplace less cautious than before, speaking more naturally as he worked to eliminate any trace of fear he once had. As far as composure went, he liked to think himself fairly experienced. Sir Orlok was certainly something else to shake him of that stable footing.

Recently the Baron had been surveying other provinces in hopes of laying claim to their lands - Evaluating their approximate strength and determining what resources might be of use to him. Apparently expanding south and east were the paths of least resistance, but if he had an ally like the Duchy of Slavia both armies would likely get a grab at whatever territory they pleased.. The key was making sure both partners honored the agreement, and getting them to fight in the first place. Quickly he formed a plan in his head, taking Slavia's position in the bay and evaluating how they might cross it.. And then if they stretched north past Aerok to aid them in taking the more heavily defended region.. Yes. That would do. He would have to offer some sort of proposal to them before the end of the evening. This gathering might not turn up so fruitless after all.
"I met your father, I did not claim to be his friend," bluntly corrects the Slavian knight in fashion that suggests diplomacy was not his forte. "And you may address me as simply Letho if you wish, Lord Vaerin. My own father's absence makes further confusion unlikely." He spoke slowly and deliberately, almost as if void of emotion.

Your appearance would give me the impression that you've fought in many a battle for your peoples, glad am I that they have not been with the Selorians on the other end of the field."

When Vaerin refers the knight's military history Letho dryly replies, "The perils of my homeland have blessed me with ample opportunities to hone my art without yet looking to our Northern neighbors. Perhaps in time, but for now our intentions lie to the East." His blunt and matter of fact style of speaking made it awkward to hold a conversation, however fortunately for Vaerin there was a more socially savvy player eager to join the fray.

Slinking in from the corners of his perception, a young noblewoman casually joins Letho's side. "Lady Isabella Von Orlok, daughter of Lord Vladimir Von Orlok, Duke of Shamaran, loyal only to it's true bloodline of kings, and ruler of the Duchy of Slavia," announces the young woman as she once again goes through the motions of introducing herself in the courtly fashion. "And I see you have already met my cousin. I, on the other hand, should have made your acquaintance long ago, Lord Vaerin. There is much we have to discuss. Tell me how does our northern neighbor fare?"

[Tentreto]

"Greetings Kalus of Caligonia. The baths were wonderful. I am not used to such luxury when it comes to bathing. In Mi'vara, one tries to not spend too much time in the bath least they catch a cold. And the hospitality has been just as good. The Harbinger here has been kind enough to indulge my questions without hesitation."

"If I'm not mistaken, you are from the far south, correct? I've heard that it gets awfully hot down there. This must be quite refreshing to be here."

"Our lands are certainly some of the hottest in the world," Kalus replies, " and it is certainly nice to not have the sun as a constant torch on our backs, as well as no night to freeze us as we sleep. Though admittedly," he smirks, "the moisture in the air here makes this feel almost like the ocean compared to home."

"I hear your own homeland is both far north and cold, so I hope your journey brought you well. My own people are said to have come from the far north, but we have lost all records of our home, but we greet any who come from there with open arms, lest we were once kinsmen."
"I trust that your father and Mi'vara are well?"




Maya's eyes widened at the Mi'varans words, her pale skinned cheeks turning bright crimson at the foreigner's blunt stayement. She opened her mouth but words did not come out, making her look for a moment fish gasping for breath. A mild panic set in, as the implication of his words sank in.

"I.. I-I..."

The arrival of Kalus Mensus served as the socially floundering Alepoúsói's life preserver.

"A-a pleasure to meet you, Kalus Mensus. I hope you have traveled well."

Her eyes were now avoiding Trotek, blush still tinting her cheeks.


Kalus turns and gives a concise but relaxed bow.

"Our journey was very peaceful, thank you, and we indeed managed to arrive a little early, though we have had little time to visit the city itself, maybe afterwards?"
Kalus then remembered where he left the ship, and grimaced.
" However, what our captain made up for in speed and safety, he lacked in...grace, and did not exactly stop the ship before the dock. Rest assured however Harbinger, he shall very repair his own faults, with his own hands if he has to."

Kalus then noticed how the Harbinger was noticeably avoiding the Emir's eyes, and definitely not from anger. He wasn't entirely sure of this reaction, but decided to hopefully help her by distraction. Hopefully he wasn't throwing sand in her face, or whatever cultural taboos existed here.

"I hope that the festival itself is going well, it did seem to be in full swing when the Gobsfull delegation arrived."

[DoomHat]

For Everyone!
At some point in the day's festivities, during a lull between meetings with officials and entertainments, a elderly goblin matron cordially approaches your core delegation. By her mode of dress, it would seem that she's a Shishiyan Destar. She leans heavily on an ornate staff (likely not of goblin make, yet fashioned to her size), and she's flanked by a pair of exceptionally diligent looking goblin pikers. If it were of any interest, one may have noticed her entering the city with the Goblin King's little parade, in her own carriage, apparently regarded generally with honors by her fellows.

Her voice is grandmotherly, strained by age but tempered by it as well, "Beg pardon your Graces. Could you humor this humble one for a moment? This one is Auntie Baoguard, that is to say, Destar Baoguard, and if it please you, I have a riddle which troubles me. It is my hope you have an answer?"

After pausing to allow for pleasantries, introductions, and ascent to tell the riddle she speaks again, (though if outright dismissed she'll likely say it anyway in passing, as a form of goodbye).
Her tone briefly becomes ritualistic, almost as if reciting a familiar incantation, "Is light blessed when it burns, is darkness wicked when it soothes, find the difference between friend and foe, however do we choose? "

---

The Alepoúsói stared wide eyed at his current company, his eyes darting from Senator Aëtius to masked dark clad figure to the Harbinger Maya. Blush filled his each at his kin's presence. His eyes darted to the Goblin King, filled with uncertainity, then back to those within the gazebo.

"Ah... May I present to you His Magnificent Majesty, Floyd the Harper, the..."

"Goblin King of Gobsfull and Sovereign of Goblinkind." The masked Phenite finished the sentence for the nervous merchant. "Not the first Goblin King I've met."

The Senator shot his gaze from the Goblin King to the Suzerain, and back again. A friendly smile crossed his face as he bowed to Floyd.

"Greetings, King Floyd. I am Vajet Aëtius Patria, Senator of the Curia Phœnīx. And this is the Phœnīx Suzerian, Doge of the Republic and Dux of the Estates." He indicated the tall masked figure. "I hope your travels saw you well?"

The emrchant piped back in, his eyes falling on the Suzerain

"The Goblin King wish for me to present you with these gifts." He did his best to indicate the items he was holding.

The Harbinger stepped forward, an obnoxious grin on her face. She took the items from the merchant, trying to stifle her giggles.

"Let me take those for the Suzerain, cousin." She said to the merchant, before turning her gaze to the Goblin King "The Curia thanks you for generosity."
Floyd smiled, beaming with mischief as he replied to The Harbinger, "Well, I do have to confess it's not my generosity so much as his. You see, I offered him his choice of coins in exchange for this service, but such was his excitement to please you, the lords of this land, he neglected to take any at all! Ha! Ha ha! Oh, peace be with you kind merchant. Is but a jest, I would not take your livelihood. For Gobsfull has always been a pious place, ever obedient to the church and mindful of Ananda's teachings... Grumf!"

A squat lump of thick green muscle named Grumf stepped forward and placed a profoundly heavy bag of gilded coins (only half of which, under careful scrutiny, would later turn out to be fakes, disappointing but still reasonably profitable for the merchant) into the merchant's almost certainly not quiet strong enough arms.

"Speaking of piety," Floyd continued, more subdued and serious minded now, "That's the heart of why I came here, against the better judgement of just about everyone... advising me. I wanted to see the holy land myself. I wanted to arrange a visit to the Holy City Shanadeer. I wanted to meet the Grand Mahangar, and I very urgently wanted to meet you.

"I need you to know that Gobsfull is at the service of Shishiyandom. Call, and we shall come. Ask you you shall receive. I beg your support so that we may better serve. I say these things, I make these offers, because there's something in the wind that disturbs me. You know the omens, I'm sure..."

He pauses for a moment. He doesn't meet anyone's eyes.

He continues, addressing the Phenite directly, "The Pit howled recently. It was just a little after we received the invitation, I heard the gossip. I'm sure a worldly educated reading and such like tall-wise such as yourself knows about Gobsfull's famous Pit. Well. A great terrible howl was heard coming up out from it. A sign. No doubt. A sign of a bloody age."

The Goblin King snapped his fingers and a small procession of goblins in priestly vestment approached to within a barely respectful distance of the assembled leaders of The Estates. With reverence they revealed a battered chest and unfastened a hideously convoluted locking mechanism fixed to its front. They revealed what lay inside, a single joint of a human finger bone, bleached and yellowed with over a millennia of age.

"Here," said the Goblin King, "a show of my sincerity and submission. My true gift. Not mere worthless silver and gold. No mere uncommon trinket. Retrieved at great cost from what I'm assured is a larger collection in Spugg-Spugg's Vault... I'm sure I do not need to explain out loud its significance."

[BootStrapTommy]

This was the maiden voyage of the Sabedoria Cochero. The Ilhéuso trade catamarans, with their distinctive lime green, 2-spar lanteen sails, were common sights up and down the XX coast. The Sabedoria was much grander than the common cargo-hauler. A true trimaran, it sported a large central hull bracketed by outriggers. The distinctive crab-claw sails were supplemented by a flying spinnaker, emblazoned with the colors of the Grasping Isles. A webbed floor stretched between the outriggers and the cross-spars, and was loaded with cargo. It was nearly 40 feet long and 25 foot at the beam, stretching the limits of their build prowess.

Felipe Eusebio Ventura, Tito Nicodemo of the Grasping Isles, was proud of his homeland’s creation. He had spent months mediating between Gilde Carregador and Gilde Guerreiro. The cargo hauler’s were convinced that having two areas for cargo and a larger central hull would be hugely profitable. Gilde Guerriero pushed hard to keep the traditional twin-pontoon design with the cargo floor between them. This allowed the crew to stay on the large pontoons with no obstructions to the waterline. Trimarans would be much harder to defend from attack. They forced the sailors across the webbed cargo floor and onto the smaller outriggers. Both sides had valid points. But Felipe pressed his vision- peaceful trade and transportation. This was not to be a warship- HIS leadership would not be warlike.

The Sabedoria easily found a docking spot in Fall Harbor. It bore a draft of less than four feet. Felipe chose not to wait for a docking ramp. Instead, he scampered with practiced ease along the cross-spar then leapt easily dock. He was originally a carregadoro and grew up moving cargo. His strong muscles were tempered only by decades of swimming and climbing. He dressed simply, if elegantly. Well tailored breeches reached down to his knees, met by long, strappy sandles that buckled over his woolen hose all the way up his calf. A high-necked brocade vest with many tiny pearl buttons extended to mid calf. Underneath, a fine, almost transparent linen shirt held tight at the neck and wrist. Atop his head he sported the Ilhéuso native visefea, his long black hair cascading over it and down his sun-tanned, promontories of cheekbones. He was not a wealthy man. Most of his wealth was well invested in the guildworks of his homeland. But he did allow himself one concession- a half cloak of the finest silk, clasped with a gold and gemstone chain.

He smiled and chatted with the dockworkers as the rest of his party gathered. Here were his people- the porters and riggers, the sail-menders and harried blacksmiths. His own crew laughed and chatted with him as they unloaded. He was well respected by the transport guild. Several of his entourage, particularly the trade guild representatives, looked askance at him. But he was their leader, for better or worse.


Once gathered, they made their way on foot to the event. Their sojourn through the city and the bazaar was not a quick one. Traders at heart, every stall and tent demanding investigation. The arrived late, with the party well underway. As everyone seemed engaged at the moment, he dismissed his entourage and waited patiently for an opportunity to arise.The Tito Nicodemo's party was shuffled toward the Gazebo as their turn came around. Both the Senator and Suzerain were their to greet them. The Senator spoke first.

"The Exalted's light shine upon you, friend. I am Vajet Aëtius Patria of the Curia, and I welcome you to my home and to the City of Flame. I hope your travels were uneventful and your stay so far has been pleasant. And this is the Suzerain of the Curia Phœnīx, Doge of the Republic and Dux of the Estates."

"Indeed," the Suzerain chimed in, "it is a pleasure to met you. I hope the Exalted shined upon you passage."


"Where I come from, as you might have guessed, is much, much colder than here. I come from far north eastern lands, known as Land of Bearmen." Boris described the Bearmen culture briefly, but did not mention the goblin vermin problem, or any other negative aspects of the country. He finished off by talking about his family and how he had seven sons, two of which were married."You're homes sounds a fascinating place, Boris of Medved. I hope in light of your native climate that Rhune do not give you, or your men, too much trouble. I hoe you will not find the Demesne to be too disappointing."


"A phoenix? No, I'm afraid I'm not very knowledgeable though I have heard the name. What stories I have heard do not do this beast justice. Might I touch his feathers do you think?" Jarah lifted a tentative hand in the direction of the phoenix, "It must truly be a magnificent bird for your kingdom to share its name."

Liora was now snuggly entrenched in the Senator's lap. Her lips brushed his ear as she whispered an invitation to meet again when night had settled. The other dancers carried out similar routines throughout the gazebo with a number of seemingly rich or influential men and women of the Curia. Jarah paid their flirtations no mind, well accustomed to Zhen diplomacy. Even though he himself did not so readily employ such methods he recognized the value they brought. A pleasant evening was sometimes all it took to prevent a war or seal a trade negotiation and Jarah would not stand in the way of that."Indeed, they are quite beautiful, though they present a set of unique challenges to those who like near them. Those eyes look like merely eyes, but as the bird ages they grow unstable. Some energy within can no longer be contained, and when the bird reaches the end of it's life, it does so in a quite spectacular fashion. Needless to say, Rhune is called the City of Flame for a number of reason."

The Suzerain could see the Prince's curiosity. He shrugged his shoulder's as much as he could without disturbing the bird.

"This is a wild one. Obviously he had little problem letting me coax him onto my arm, but I cannot guarantee how he will react to anything else. If you wish to make that risk, you'll not stop you."

Senator's smiled widened, a devious note to it. He ran his hand up Liora's thigh with a look in his eyes and nod of consent. He turned his gaze for a moment back to her half brother, making a clarification.

"That one frequents my garden quit a bit. I do believe a few of the gardeners may even feed it. Still a wild animal, but it does seem a friendly one."

[Icilia]

Maya's eyes widened at the Mi'varans words, her pale skinned cheeks turning bright crimson at the foreigner's blunt stayement. She opened her mouth but words did not come out, making her look for a moment fish gasping for breath. A mild panic set in, as the implication of his words sank in.

"I.. I-I..."

The arrival of Kalus Mensus served as the socially floundering Alepoúsói's life preserver.

"A-a pleasure to meet you, Kalus Mensus. I hope you have traveled well."

Her eyes were now avoiding Trotek, blush still tinting her cheeks."Are you sure you are well Harbinger? You have been a flush multiple times already. Perhaps sit down, I'll call for someone to bring you a drink."

Trotek was earnestly worried about Maya, even if he was missing the reasons for her being so flushed. He clasped her hands and helped move her to a seat, before getting her a cool drink.


A young Strongmen, maybe twenty years old, approached the Mi'varan delegation. He was seven and a half feet tall and as usual for Strongmen, he was very strong. He had long black hair, as dark as the night, tied tightly into a ponytail on the back of his head. On his head sat a gold band, lined with fur, designating the man as an heir to Land of Bearmen's royalty. Across the left side of his chest, the man had a tattoo, which looked like a bear's head, made in black ink"Ahoy!" he called out as he approached the Mi'varans. "I am Vlad, of Medved, and the shortest of all of my brothers. My father sent me to speak with you about both of our countries' futures, as we are neighbors."

Trotek offers his hand in greeting to the large Strongman. "Well met Vlad. I am Trotek, of Mi'vara. Yes, my father told me that we would likely talk about a great many things, and I probably have the most instructions given to me about what it is we need to talk about."

"Firstly, I must state that my father rather bluntly seeks to secure a safe route to the sea. We are heavily land locked, and the Khan wishes to increase his trade potential. He understands that this will likely cause you to be locked in by our territory, but he swears that you will be allowed free passage through his lands, assuming you agree to cause no harm to our people, or our allies. Secondly, we have no intention of war between our two nations that share the blood of the Highlanders. Whether your father wishes for an open peace, or something else, will be up to them. However, the Khan is open to such discussions, and his halls are always open to you and yours."

"For now, that is all I can think of that the Khan wanted stated expressly to you. What of your fathers desires? I am sure there are just as many."


"Our lands are certainly some of the hottest in the world," Kalus replies, " and it is certainly nice to not have the sun as a constant torch on our backs, as well as no night to freeze us as we sleep. Though admittedly," he smirks, "the moisture in the air here makes this feel almost like the ocean compared to home."

"I hear your own homeland is both far north and cold, so I hope your journey brought you well. My own people are said to have come from the far north, but we have lost all records of our home, but we greet any who come from there with open arms, lest we were once kinsmen."
"I trust that your father and Mi'vara are well?"


Trotek is surprised for a moment with what he is told. "I had not heard of such things. They definitely sound like something that should be further investigated. If you wish, I can pass a message on to my father, to allow a contingent of scholars to search for anything of your past in Mi'vara, if you wish."

"Thank you. The Khan is well as he ever is, and Mi'vara has been fair as well. The clansmen tribes seem to have settled recently, which helps stabilise us a little."


At some point in the day's festivities, during a lull between meetings with officials and entertainments, a elderly goblin matron cordially approaches your core delegation. By her mode of dress, it would seem that she's a Shishiyan Destar. She leans heavily on an ornate staff (likely not of goblin make, yet fashioned to her size), and she's flanked by a pair of exceptionally diligent looking goblin pikers. If it were of any interest, one may have noticed her entering the city with the Goblin King's little parade, in her own carriage, apparently regarded generally with honors by her fellows.

Her voice is grandmotherly, strained by age but tempered by it as well, "Beg pardon your Graces. Could you humor this humble one for a moment? This one is Auntie Baoguard, that is to say, Destar Baoguard, and if it please you, I have a riddle which troubles me. It is my hope you have an answer?"

After pausing to allow for pleasantries, introductions, and ascent to tell the riddle she speaks again, (though if outright dismissed she'll likely say it anyway in passing, as a form of goodbye).
Her tone briefly becomes ritualistic, almost as if reciting a familiar incantation, "Is light blessed when it burns, is darkness wicked when it soothes, find the difference between friend and foe, however do we choose? "

Trotek smiles down at the small goblin and listens to the riddle. After a few moments, he simply shakes his head. Riddles where never really Trotek's forte.

[DimpleLoamsdown]

"You're homes sounds a fascinating place, Boris of Medved. I hope in light of your native climate that Rhune do not give you, or your men, too much trouble. I hoe you will not find the Demesne to be too disappointing."



"Rhune? Demesne? I have not heard these words before. Perhaps they were on invitation, yet I still did not understand them, as Fusional Upper Middling Subjunctive Shishiyan Koine is not my native language, I am at loss." Boris frowned, rubbed his chin, which was as bald as his forehead and came to a conclusion, "They must be terms for important places or people."


Eventually, the Bearmen started laughing and conversing again, as they forced themselves to forget the impolite giggles of Maya. Soon after, a slightly blushing, yet still ferocious looking Strongmen, maybe twenty seven, stepped towards her. Standing almost eight feet tall, he was a sight to see. In comparison to the average strength of Strongmen, he was rather slim, although he still had the appearance of a fighter. He had hand-cut, yet clean blonde hair, which he had obviously cut himself. He had baggy pants and a dagger, maybe a foot long, tied to his bear-hide belt. He did not where boots, but sandals, which he had likely picked up on the way to the event, in one of the warmer countries on the way. His prominent defining feature was the large set of five scars, which traveled down his right shoulder, past his navel. "Hi. I am Mikhail, first son and primary heir to Boris of Medved." He fiddled with what seemed to be a box in his pocket. He had no wife and would be required to take one on from one of the other Qlans if he did not find one before his father died, whenever that might eventually happen, so he wanted to marry on his own decision, as opposed to have a wife chosen for him. I know that our people have gotten off to bad start, but I would like to formally apologize introduce myself." At this, he knelt down and extended his hand, palm up, for Maya to take it.

[DimpleLoamsdown]

Trotek offers his hand in greeting to the large Strongman. [COLOR="#A9A9A9"]"Well met Vlad. I am Trotek, of Mi'vara. Yes, my father told me that we would likely talk about a great many things, and I probably have the most instructions given to me about what it is we need to talk about."

"Firstly, I must state that my father rather bluntly seeks to secure a safe route to the sea. We are heavily land locked, and the Khan wishes to increase his trade potential. He understands that this will likely cause you to be locked in by our territory, but he swears that you will be allowed free passage through his lands, assuming you agree to cause no harm to our people, or our allies. Secondly, we have no intention of war between our two nations that share the blood of the Highlanders. Whether your father wishes for an open peace, or something else, will be up to them. However, the Khan is open to such discussions, and his halls are always open to you and yours."

"For now, that is all I can think of that the Khan wanted stated expressly to you. What of your fathers desires? I am sure there are just as many."

Vlad shook the man's hand vigorously.
"Ah yes. Well, as I am the fourth in line to the throne, I have very little say over what is decided in my father's court, although I do know what goes on there and what my father would like to accomplish." Vlad took a moment to collect his thoughts before continuing. "My father would rather control area of land along coast which is almost directly connected to Land of Bearmen" (13,12,54)", as he has a suspicion that they contain rest of the ancient Bearmen Qlans. If your people where to permit ours to conquer Oceanside regions, we would permit yours free passage, and free control over the Trade markets of Land of Bearmen. Secondly, my father would provide defense for your people and your land, on one condition." The Bearmen paused, waiting for Trotek's reaction.

[BootStrapTommy]

"Our lands are certainly some of the hottest in the world," Kalus replies, " and it is certainly nice to not have the sun as a constant torch on our backs, as well as no night to freeze us as we sleep. Though admittedly," he smirks, "the moisture in the air here makes this feel almost like the ocean compared to home."

"I hear your own homeland is both far north and cold, so I hope your journey brought you well. My own people are said to have come from the far north, but we have lost all records of our home, but we greet any who come from there with open arms, lest we were once kinsmen."
"I trust that your father and Mi'vara are well?"


Kalus turns and gives a concise but relaxed bow.

"Our journey was very peaceful, thank you, and we indeed managed to arrive a little early, though we have had little time to visit the city itself, maybe afterwards?"
Kalus then remembered where he left the ship, and grimaced.
" However, what our captain made up for in speed and safety, he lacked in...grace, and did not exactly stop the ship before the dock. Rest assured however Harbinger, he shall very repair his own faults, with his own hands if he has to."

Kalus then noticed how the Harbinger was noticeably avoiding the Emir's eyes, and definitely not from anger. He wasn't entirely sure of this reaction, but decided to hopefully help her by distraction. Hopefully he wasn't throwing sand in her face, or whatever cultural taboos existed here.

"I hope that the festival itself is going well, it did seem to be in full swing when the Gobsfull delegation arrived."


"Are you sure you are well Harbinger? You have been a flush multiple times already. Perhaps sit down, I'll call for someone to bring you a drink."

Trotek was earnestly worried about Maya, even if he was missing the reasons for her being so flushed. He clasped her hands and helped move her to a seat, before getting her a cool drink.

Trotek is surprised for a moment with what he is told. "I had not heard of such things. They definitely sound like something that should be further investigated. If you wish, I can pass a message on to my father, to allow a contingent of scholars to search for anything of your past in Mi'vara, if you wish."

"Thank you. The Khan is well as he ever is, and Mi'vara has been fair as well. The clansmen tribes seem to have settled recently, which helps stabilise us a little."The Mi'varan's continued attentions only served to make things worse, as he grabbed a hold of Maya and moved her to a seat.

"No... I'm fine... You don't need to..."

When he offered her a drink she quickly took it, bringing the drink up to her mouth and slowly drinking, trying to take long enough to avoid having to speak or answer any of Trotek's additional questions. Her eyes continued to avoid him, nodding when she though appropriate. She was at this point intensely embarrassed. Kalus's response served to distract her, as did Trotek's response. She shot Kalus a grateful look after his last statement, almost a question, finally putting the drink down.

"The Fox Hunt is like a pilgrimage for most of the Alepoúsói. Long ago, in days passed, it was an instrument of our oppression. But the Church has ensure that that is no more. Now it is a celebration of us. And of the unity of the Estates. Gone is the blood sport of old. Now it is a much more mutually entertaining affair. The markets, the bards, the traveling troupes. Plays, jousts, melees. And of course, the new Fox Hunt."

A fanged grin shown over the top of the cup, her eyes willing to meet Kalus', but still avoiding Trotek.

[lt_murgen]

The Tito Nicodemo's party was shuffled toward the Gazebo as their turn came around. Both the Senator and Suzerain were their to greet them. The Senator spoke first.

"The Exalted's light shine upon you, friend. I am Vajet Aëtius Patria of the Curia, and I welcome you to my home and to the City of Flame. I hope your travels were uneventful and your stay so far has been pleasant. And this is the Suzerain of the Curia Phœnīx, Doge of the Republic and Dux of the Estates."

"Indeed," the Suzerain chimed in, "it is a pleasure to met you. I hope the Exalted shined upon you passage."

The Tito Nicodemo placed his arms across his torso, fingertips touching opposing shoulders. He closed his eyes for a pair os seconds. The formal greeting of his people, it showed that they were non-agressive and trusting. "Thanks to you for the invitation." Felipe replied. "The journey was a pleasant one. The coastline between here and my home is well known to our navigators. While much of the land along the coast seems wild, there were numerous small villages that welcomed our visit. And then we arrived here!" He smiled gesturing both at the villa and back towards the city. "The great city of Rhune. Rhune, of fable and song. To see it with my own eyes has been a true gift."

He turned slightly, to Senator Aëtius. "Your villa is exquisite. Such verdance and variety! My Gilde Pecuaria staff were speechless. I'm sure they will have chests of questions for your groundskeepers. Our own lands suffer greatly from loss of species. It is something we hope to remedy some day."


Later in the evening

Felipe reviewed what he knew of the regions along the southern coast. His entourage informed him that Prince Jarah Sanu Ina Abahar, Prince of Kinneret and Zhentanna was in attendance. Recalling the Zhen's prudent, cautious approach to foreigners, he attracted the interest of one of the less dressed female dancers. He intimiated to her that he would be appreciative of the opportunity to meet the Prince, if such could be arranged.

[Zayuz]

The Suzerain's attentions remained on the bird.

"There are not a great many, and those there are tend to be kept track of. Most live farther into into the mountains. But be glad you did not arrive at time where one illustrated to you exactly why Rhune is called the City of Flame."

The Suzerain's eyes moved from the bird, back to his guest. The white orbs seemed to study the bandit lord, unblinking. The Suzerain let out a curt laugh. He held up the object in his hand, revealing a small scroll.

"Funny you should inquire about carrying messages. That's what I meant by them being able to speak. And this one? She told me quite the tale to tell, Lord Vaerin. Seems Senator Stilicho, in the city, has made a rather interesting discovery."

He let the words linger for moment, as his eyes meet Vaerin's.

"Why exactly are you hiding troops in my city, Lord Vaerin?"

Vaerin listened intently, tilting his head ever so slightly out of curiosity as the host built up that final moment of conversation. The birds could speak too.. That meant it was possible that they would never have to carry parchment. However if one fell into the wrong hands, perhaps all past messages could be coaxed from it.. A risky endeavor for sure - One would be wise to keep track of their Phoenixes.

He stifled a laugh at the accusations, smiling slightly and looking to the four men behind him as if to ask which one of them gave it away. But he knew it could not have been them, for they had never left him presence for even a moment since he arrived. "Well," he started, looking back to him. "It looks like I'll have to tell them to take back the bribe they gave to the innkeeper. If you look upon the squadrons of knights and soldiers and guards that every other noble at this festival lugged along with them I'd say mine are far from out of place. I couldn't walk into a Phoenix Estates palace with a blade and four men and be confident I'd be leaving without any shackles. You companion there said it best herself earlier, Selorians make for more common prisoners than guests." He gestured to Maya, who had been obediently quiet through their short exchange.

"I assumed I'd be doing nobody any favors if I brought my men all the way up here. Tensions would have been considerably higher than they already are - I'm sure you understand. They're my backup force in case anything gets rough. They've no orders but to storm in here in case things get ugly." It was hard to tell if Vaerin told the truth or not, being a man of as many secrets as he was. He was used to ruling from afar and positioning those in his command where they needed to be at the right place and the right time. To have been discovered was a disappointment, but perhaps good in the long run. He wouldn't want to be seen as arrogant having only walked in with the four men after all.


The guests had now arrived and the expansive gardens of the Phoenix Estates looked to almost be at capacity. Jarah was well pleased by this for it meant many opportunities to meet potential new trading partners and allies. The Zhen were not a warlike people but they had long appreciated the necessity for armed deterrence so it was to the kingdom’s benefit to ally with those warlike peoples with enough sense to take a bribe rather than risk life and limb attacking the river valley. Far better to let others die for material wealth than to lose a citizen to an unnecessary war.

It was while having this thought that Jarah spotted a man dressed to fight with a large scar running across his otherwise handsome visage. He could have been mistaken for another delegation’s head of security if not for the golden sword belted at his waist and the respect being shown the thuggish brute by the host’s attendants. Jarah had heard a number of stories about war looming on the horizon from the returned scouts and explorers but the Yssians were the only army builders close enough to give the Zhen pause. Whoever this man was he was a foreign warrior and types such as him often appreciated a man of letters and numbers shoring up where he himself might falter.

Jarah approached the Selorian delegation with a smile and his hands each carrying a glass of local wine.

“Have you ever seen a place so full of the odd and eccentric?” He addressed the leading warrior with an offer of one of the wine glasses.

As the newcomer approached, Vaerin waved off one of his men. He was down to three guards, but at this point he was almost certainly not going to be arrested. Assassinated, maybe. But not arrested. He would rather his force knew they'd been discovered than to have a slightly better chance against a palace full of nobles and their most well decorated guardsmen. He turned to greet the foreigner with a cautious smile, his eyes trailing from his eyes to his crowns and finally his horns; Then back down to his eyes. His dark hair scored him instant points with the Selorian delegation, though he would know it not.

Accepting the glass and assuming that this person who was clearly high nobility had no reason to poison him, he made made his short introduction before taking a sip of the wine - Acknowledging the decent taste in the selection. Wines were a rare delicacy in Aerok. ..Luckily, he was one of the few who could afford it. The gesture was well appreciated, if not a bit odd. Collecting drinks was a job in the most part for slaves.

"Perhaps not; And never a place with so many people so casually flaunting gold around. You'd think it's almost lost it's value to some of them." His hand extended forwards to shake that of the friendly diplomat, covered in a thin leather glove that did little to mask his strong grip. "I am Lord Vaerin, son of Lord Falkar and the one who holds Aerok to the east together by the thin strings in which it were attached - As well as one of many eccentrics at the gathering tonight. A pleasure."



"I met your father, I did not claim to be his friend," bluntly corrects the Slavian knight in fashion that suggests diplomacy was not his forte. "And you may address me as simply Letho if you wish, Lord Vaerin. My own father's absence makes further confusion unlikely." He spoke slowly and deliberately, almost as if void of emotion.

Your appearance would give me the impression that you've fought in many a battle for your peoples, glad am I that they have not been with the Selorians on the other end of the field."

When Vaerin refers the knight's military history Letho dryly replies, "The perils of my homeland have blessed me with ample opportunities to hone my art without yet looking to our Northern neighbors. Perhaps in time, but for now our intentions lie to the East." His blunt and matter of fact style of speaking made it awkward to hold a conversation, however fortunately for Vaerin there was a more socially savvy player eager to join the fray.

Slinking in from the corners of his perception, a young noblewoman casually joins Letho's side. "Lady Isabella Von Orlok, daughter of Lord Vladimir Von Orlok, Duke of Shamaran, loyal only to it's true bloodline of kings, and ruler of the Duchy of Slavia," announces the young woman as she once again goes through the motions of introducing herself in the courtly fashion. "And I see you have already met my cousin. I, on the other hand, should have made your acquaintance long ago, Lord Vaerin. There is much we have to discuss. Tell me how does our northern neighbor fare?"

"Of course. I had no intention to imply anything aside from respect, if that's what you mean." He nodded to the blunt correction, but almost seeming to take a hint of amusement in how it was received. Word that his intentions lay to the east was mildly concerning, but certainly still manageable if they could be convinced to turn the other way. Having little to say in return, he let the conversation sit in a comfortable silence just before Lady Isabella made her entry. It was well that he did not have to turn towards speaking of conflict in his own lands. Gang fights tended not to look all too honorable in the eyes of foreign commanders he often found.

She caught his eye as he stepped forwards, her distinct pale skin and black attire. Had there ever been a diplomatic female leader in Aerok he would expect them to dress much the same, or at least he hoped they would. He assumed that it was a pendant of the church that rested in her bust that he spotted out of the corner of his eye, but there was not a chance that he was about to glance down at her finer figure on his first encounter with the Slavian ruler. He prayed that she did not care to hear his title. Having nobody to announce it seemed like almost a disadvantage, though she knew well enough who he was.

"I feel quite the same Lady Isabella, and things are well. I fear the work of keeping my peoples from each-other's throats has kept me from making acquaintances with those around me. Fortunately, it seems my efforts have been rewarded. I've made a fair bit of progress in uniting my peoples as you likely would have been able to tell by the lack of raiders descending upon your carriage on your carriage ride across my lands. The warriors among us have little choice in the matter, and some are quite restless for something to sink their blades into." He glanced over to the left at nothing in particular, his mind pondering if there was anything else he should mention before nodding to the southerners. "..Something I intend to point them towards in the coming years. I trust that things are bright and cheery as always in Slavia?" His face curled to a smile, well aware of the bleak contrast from a place such as the one they were in. It was called 'cursed' for a reason. Hopefully she would see the appeal in his jest, though he wouldn't count on it.

[Tentreto]

For Everyone!
At some point in the day's festivities, during a lull between meetings with officials and entertainments, a elderly goblin matron cordially approaches your core delegation. By her mode of dress, it would seem that she's a Shishiyan Destar. She leans heavily on an ornate staff (likely not of goblin make, yet fashioned to her size), and she's flanked by a pair of exceptionally diligent looking goblin pikers. If it were of any interest, one may have noticed her entering the city with the Goblin King's little parade, in her own carriage, apparently regarded generally with honors by her fellows.

Her voice is grandmotherly, strained by age but tempered by it as well, "Beg pardon your Graces. Could you humor this humble one for a moment? This one is Auntie Baoguard, that is to say, Destar Baoguard, and if it please you, I have a riddle which troubles me. It is my hope you have an answer?"

After pausing to allow for pleasantries, introductions, and ascent to tell the riddle she speaks again, (though if outright dismissed she'll likely say it anyway in passing, as a form of goodbye).
Her tone briefly becomes ritualistic, almost as if reciting a familiar incantation, "Is light blessed when it burns, is darkness wicked when it soothes, find the difference between friend and foe, however do we choose? "



Kalus mulls this over quietly for a few seconds.
"This does almost feel like a riddle with no answer, but I'll answer it to my best ability"

"Choose those who live in twilight, for they are bright enough to light, yet dark enough to sooth. And as no one who walks the world this day is either true light or dark, make friends or foes of anyone."
Kalus hesitates: " Although this does hinge on whether there actually is an answer in the first place."



"Are you sure you are well Harbinger? You have been a flush multiple times already. Perhaps sit down, I'll call for someone to bring you a drink."

Trotek was earnestly worried about Maya, even if he was missing the reasons for her being so flushed. He clasped her hands and helped move her to a seat, before getting her a cool drink.





Trotek is surprised for a moment with what he is told. "I had not heard of such things. They definitely sound like something that should be further investigated. If you wish, I can pass a message on to my father, to allow a contingent of scholars to search for anything of your past in Mi'vara, if you wish."

"Thank you. The Khan is well as he ever is, and Mi'vara has been fair as well. The clansmen tribes seem to have settled recently, which helps stabilise us a little."





Kalus nods, " Do not trouble yourselves too much for our sake, we may have come across from the Northern sea for all we know, though if you did find our origins, we would be extremely gracious. If you wish, I could arrange for a copy of our journey south to be delivered to you."
Hearing of the peaceful homeland, Kalus again nods, " I am glad to hear it, the nomads of our land are hoping to settle themselves down as well, so let us hope this remains good for both of us.


The Mi'varan's continued attentions only served to make things worse, as he grabbed a hold of Maya and moved her to a seat.

"No... I'm fine... You don't need to..."

When he offered her a drink she quickly took it, bringing the drink up to her mouth and slowly drinking, trying to take long enough to avoid having to speak or answer any of Trotek's additional questions. Her eyes continued to avoid him, nodding when she though appropriate. She was at this point intensely embarrassed. Kalus's response served to distract her, as did Trotek's response. She shot Kalus a grateful look after his last statement, almost a question, finally putting the drink down.

"The Fox Hunt is like a pilgrimage for most of the Alepoúsói. Long ago, in days passed, it was an instrument of our oppression. But the Church has ensure that that is no more. Now it is a celebration of us. And of the unity of the Estates. Gone is the blood sport of old. Now it is a much more mutually entertaining affair. The markets, the bards, the traveling troupes. Plays, jousts, melees. And of course, the new Fox Hunt."

A fanged grin shown over the top of the cup, her eyes willing to meet Kalus', but still avoiding Trotek.

Kalus managed to hide his slight shudder at the history of the Fox Hunt, he thought it was only a clever play on words. It was that, in fact, but only due to luck apparently. He smiled a little more openly instead.
"I would certainly be interested in seeing that at some point in the future Harbinger, but I'm afraid I would be quite useless in forests and grassland, and definitely not subtle enough. "
Kalus gave a slightly more competitive glance, "although I would be tempted to try a joust or melee if I were here on a less formal function. "

@ Trotus & Maya

Kalus then gives a more solemn look
"In any case I wonder what either of you know about Khada'aldul or our other near neighbours? As they are part of the reason for our attendance."

[QuintonBeck]

Jarah's words seem wasted on the towering behemoth that continues to stand with silent indifference. It is uncertain if he was even going to acknowledge the prince, however luckily for Jarah the noblewoman that had caught his eye seemed to have now concluded her business with the Suzerain. She turns leave, approaching the stand off at her own leisurely pace.

"Lady Isabella Von Orlok, daughter of Lord Vladimir Von Orlok, Duke of Shamaran, loyal only to it's true bloodline of kings, and ruler of the Duchy of Slavia," announces the young woman as she introduces herself in the courtly fashion. Her facial expressions are muted by the black veil that covers her face, but there is something enticing in the way she whispers her honeyed words.

"What a pleasure it is to make the acquaintance of a Prince of Zhentanna. It must have been centuries since such a meeting of our people, something not seen since the days of the Kings of Shamaran," ponders Isabella aloud, making for polite conversation. "Tell me how does the sun kissed south fare? What dominates the affairs of far and exotic lands?" she inquires enthusiastically, a sly smile on her painted black lips.


“Sex, drugs, and music mainly though we occasionally take the time to trade with foreigners,” Jarah answered with his own mischievous smile, “I don’t imagine too much has changed since the time of the Kingdom of Shamaran. We in the river valley take inspiration from the Mighty Ufratu which carved our home. Steady and slow with determined purpose but not without the capability to flood and break against the banks should a storm find its way across the mountains or the sea.”

“What of Slavia?” Jarah asked sparing once last glance to the towering Von Orlok knight before making eye contact with a drink server and waving him over, “I’m afraid there’s dreadfully little about your Duchy in the libraries of Zhentanna and our scouts reported a land largely closed to foreigners. Rest assured we do not begrudge such an attitude but respect it however it would do us well I think to lessen the distance between our people’s mutual understanding. I have read that your family has ruled in Slavia for centuries? Such fortitude as a noble line is to be commended.”



"Indeed, they are quite beautiful, though they present a set of unique challenges to those who like near them. Those eyes look like merely eyes, but as the bird ages they grow unstable. Some energy within can no longer be contained, and when the bird reaches the end of it's life, it does so in a quite spectacular fashion. Needless to say, Rhune is called the City of Flame for a number of reason."

The Suzerain could see the Prince's curiosity. He shrugged his shoulder's as much as he could without disturbing the bird.

"This is a wild one. Obviously he had little problem letting me coax him onto my arm, but I cannot guarantee how he will react to anything else. If you wish to make that risk, you'll not stop you."

Senator's smiled widened, a devious note to it. He ran his hand up Liora's thigh with a look in his eyes and nod of consent. He turned his gaze for a moment back to her half brother, making a clarification.

"That one frequents my garden quite a bit. I do believe a few of the gardeners may even feed it. Still a wild animal, but it does seem a friendly one."


Jarah looked over towards the Senator as he spoke, noting Liora’s closeness as he did, before returning his attention to the bird perched upon the Suzerain’s shoulder. He reached forward tenderly, focusing to keep his hand from shaking as the tips of his fingers brushed against the dark red feathers. The feathers were quite warm to the touch though not hot and Jarah carefully drew his fingers down following the natural direction of the feather in a soft stroke.


I figure you should probably determine how it responds.




Later in the evening

Felipe reviewed what he knew of the regions along the southern coast. His entourage informed him that Prince Jarah Sanu Ina Abahar, Prince of Kinneret and Zhentanna was in attendance. Recalling the Zhen's prudent, cautious approach to foreigners, he attracted the interest of one of the less dressed female dancers. He intimiated to her that he would be appreciative of the opportunity to meet the Prince, if such could be arranged.


About an hour after Felipe had sent word to find and inform the Zhen Prince of his desire to meet with him the now much shrunken Zhen delegation composed only of the Prince, the dancer who had been sent to fetch him, and the two poorly disguised guards who still remained an unobtrusive but obvious distance from Jarah arrived at the delegation of the Grasping Isles. As he was introduced by the dancer, a cousin sent away from his eldest brother’s court to avoid further conflict with his wife, Jarah attempted to size up the foreign delegates. He had heard the islander people were steeped in trade above all else earning them recognition as a direct competitor to Zhen interests abroad. Nevertheless they were seeking conversation which suggested perhaps a desire for cooperation and mutual prosperity. As his cousin concluded his introduction the Zhen Prince stepped forward, a smile brightening his features.



As the newcomer approached, Vaerin waved off one of his men. He was down to three guards, but at this point he was almost certainly not going to be arrested. Assassinated, maybe. But not arrested. He would rather his force knew they'd been discovered than to have a slightly better chance against a palace full of nobles and their most well decorated guardsmen. He turned to greet the foreigner with a cautious smile, his eyes trailing from his eyes to his crowns and finally his horns; Then back down to his eyes. His dark hair scored him instant points with the Selorian delegation, though he would know it not.

Accepting the glass and assuming that this person who was clearly high nobility had no reason to poison him, he made made his short introduction before taking a sip of the wine - Acknowledging the decent taste in the selection. Wines were a rare delicacy in Aerok. ..Luckily, he was one of the few who could afford it. The gesture was well appreciated, if not a bit odd. Collecting drinks was a job in the most part for slaves.

"Perhaps not; And never a place with so many people so casually flaunting gold around. You'd think it's almost lost it's value to some of them." His hand extended forwards to shake that of the friendly diplomat, covered in a thin leather glove that did little to mask his strong grip. "I am Lord Vaerin, son of Lord Falkar and the one who holds Aerok to the east together by the thin strings in which it were attached - As well as one of many eccentrics at the gathering tonight. A pleasure."


Jarah took the offered hand and returned a firm but considerably weaker handshake. Jarah did not seem disturbed by the strength of the man before him, having expected as much from a warrior king.

“Prince Jarah of Kinneret and Zhentanna,” Jarah answered in return, “The pleasure is mine.”

Jarah paused to glance about the party and take a sip from his wine, “Gold receives its value from its shining beauty and convenience for common transactions but it is not valuable. The key to wealth is determining value. You see this freely flowing gold as valuable but it isn’t for the very reason you so astutely observed. If it were truly valuable would it be given so freely?”

“Value is difficult to determine, it takes years of practice and dedication to become acquainted with what is and is not valuable. You for instance Lord Vaerin strike me as a man of great value. Your value is your strength and your power over your men, something far more valuable than even a wagon full of gold, if you’ll pardon my imprudence in saying so. I pride myself on my ability to evaluate value as do my brothers with whom I rule Zhentanna. We are not warriors but we recognize the value a warrior brings.”

“So tell me Lord Vaerin, if you will indulge me, do you see any value in myself?” Jarah looked directly into the scarred visage seeking any tell or thought that might hide behind the bandit king’s eyes.

[BootStrapTommy]

Floyd smiled, beaming with mischief as he replied to The Harbinger, "Well, I do have to confess it's not my generosity so much as his. You see, I offered him his choice of coins in exchange for this service, but such was his excitement to please you, the lords of this land, he neglected to take any at all! Ha! Ha ha! Oh, peace be with you kind merchant. Is but a jest, I would not take your livelihood. For Gobsfull has always been a pious place, ever obedient to the church and mindful of Ananda's teachings... Grumf!"

A squat lump of thick green muscle named Grumf stepped forward and placed a profoundly heavy bag of gilded coins (only half of which, under careful scrutiny, would later turn out to be fakes, disappointing but still reasonably profitable for the merchant) into the merchant's almost certainly not quiet strong enough arms.

"Speaking of piety," Floyd continued, more subdued and serious minded now, "That's the heart of why I came here, against the better judgement of just about everyone... advising me. I wanted to see the holy land myself. I wanted to arrange a visit to the Holy City Shanadeer. I wanted to meet the Grand Mahangar, and I very urgently wanted to meet you.

"I need you to know that Gobsfull is at the service of Shishiyandom. Call, and we shall come. Ask you you shall receive. I beg your support so that we may better serve. I say these things, I make these offers, because there's something in the wind that disturbs me. You know the omens, I'm sure..."

He pauses for a moment. He doesn't meet anyone's eyes.

He continues, addressing the Phenite directly, "The Pit howled recently. It was just a little after we received the invitation, I heard the gossip. I'm sure a worldly educated reading and such like tall-wise such as yourself knows about Gobsfull's famous Pit. Well. A great terrible howl was heard coming up out from it. A sign. No doubt. A sign of a bloody age."

The Goblin King snapped his fingers and a small procession of goblins in priestly vestment approached to within a barely respectful distance of the assembled leaders of The Estates. With reverence they revealed a battered chest and unfastened a hideously convoluted locking mechanism fixed to its front. They revealed what lay inside, a single joint of a human finger bone, bleached and yellowed with over a millennia of age.

"Here," said the Goblin King, "a show of my sincerity and submission. My true gift. Not mere worthless silver and gold. No mere uncommon trinket. Retrieved at great cost from what I'm assured is a larger collection in Spugg-Spugg's Vault... I'm sure I do not need to explain out loud its significance."The merchant's eyes grew wide, momentarily filling with panic, until Grumf handed him the money, which was certainly a large and hefty amount.

The Suzerain listened intently as the Goblin spoke, taking in his words. Concern appeared in is white eyes. He paused pensively for a moment before speaking.

"It saddens me to hear of such an ill omen, King Floyd. That is a... disconcerting revelation to say the least. I will most certainly see to it that before you return home you have a chance to visit the Holy City and meet with the Grand Mahangar. And I assure you that so long as Gobsfull remains in service of the Church, it will always have friends in Rhune. I have always been one to value faithfulness. So when this bloody age comes to pass, you can rest assured to count the Estates as an ally, friend. Isn't that right, Senator Aëtius?"

"Indeed, dominus."

When the chest was brought forth, a curiousness came into the Suzerain's gaze. As the bone was revealed, a deep sorrow became evident in the Suzerain's eyes, as if he were looking upon the remains of an old friend. The sorrow was evident is his voice as her gave a short, deep bow to Floyd.

"It is a gift for which word do not do justice. I cannot possibly put into words my gratitude. I thank you, personally, and on behalf of the Curia and the Estates."


"Rhune? Demesne? I have not heard these words before. Perhaps they were on invitation, yet I still did not understand them, as Fusional Upper Middling Subjunctive Shishiyan Koine is not my native language, I am at loss." Boris frowned, rubbed his chin, which was as bald as his forehead and came to a conclusion, "They must be terms for important places or people."

Eventually, the Bearmen started laughing and conversing again, as they forced themselves to forget the impolite giggles of Maya. Soon after, a slightly blushing, yet still ferocious looking Strongmen, maybe twenty seven, stepped towards her. Standing almost eight feet tall, he was a sight to see. In comparison to the average strength of Strongmen, he was rather slim, although he still had the appearance of a fighter. He had hand-cut, yet clean blonde hair, which he had obviously cut himself. He had baggy pants and a dagger, maybe a foot long, tied to his bear-hide belt. He did not where boots, but sandals, which he had likely picked up on the way to the event, in one of the warmer countries on the way. His prominent defining feature was the large set of five scars, which traveled down his right shoulder, past his navel. "Hi. I am Mikhail, first son and primary heir to Boris of Medved." He fiddled with what seemed to be a box in his pocket. He had no wife and would be required to take one on from one of the other Qlans if he did not find one before his father died, whenever that might eventually happen, so he wanted to marry on his own decision, as opposed to have a wife chosen for him. I know that our people have gotten off to bad start, but I would like to formally apologize introduce myself." At this, he knelt down and extended his hand, palm up, for Maya to take it.The Senator let out a mirthful laugh.

"I don't think that is anyone's native language, dominus. Rhune is the city you are currently in. The Demesne is those territories that are governed by the Phenite, my people, strecthing from the sea to the peaks of the Iugis Ignis. You are currently in the Demesne as well. The mountains outside the city are the Panoúrgos Iuga, which branch out from the Iugis Ignis."

Maya did her best to ignore the fact that she was now surrounded by a bunch of shirtless, muscly men of great stature. But when Mikhail approached, introducing himself and kneeling before her, her plan crumbled. Exalted, why must you test me so, today? She made eye contact with the large muscly man before, her cheeks filling with color. Her perked up atop her head, and the bushy fox tail emerging from just above her behind began to twitch erratically. Her gaze fell to his hand.

"I... I-I am Maya Lepída Patria, Harbinger of the Alepoúsói."

Her hand tentitive reached out, but not to Mikhail's hand, but to the scars on his chest. She ran a finger down one of them.

"A... a bear?"

[BootStrapTommy]

The Tito Nicodemo placed his arms across his torso, fingertips touching opposing shoulders. He closed his eyes for a pair os seconds. The formal greeting of his people, it showed that they were non-agressive and trusting. "Thanks to you for the invitation." Felipe replied. "The journey was a pleasant one. The coastline between here and my home is well known to our navigators. While much of the land along the coast seems wild, there were numerous small villages that welcomed our visit. And then we arrived here!" He smiled gesturing both at the villa and back towards the city. "The great city of Rhune. Rhune, of fable and song. To see it with my own eyes has been a true gift."

He turned slightly, to Senator Aëtius. "Your villa is exquisite. Such verdance and variety! My Gilde Pecuaria staff were speechless. I'm sure they will have chests of questions for your groundskeepers. Our own lands suffer greatly from loss of species. It is something we hope to remedy some day." The Suzerain seemed pleased. His eyes, however, never seemed to blink.

"I'm glad to hear that. I'm pleased to hear that Rhune still holds a reputation abroad. And that it pleased you so to see it."

The Senator beamed at the compliment., bowing toward the Tito Nicodemo in gratitude.

"Thank you! I'm sure my gardeners would be pleased to hear your praise. They are talented indeed, and hardworkers. Perhaps I could summon and arrange a meeting. They are as passionate about this garden as I am. I'm sure they would not mind sharing what they know to those who might put it to good use!"


Vaerin listened intently, tilting his head ever so slightly out of curiosity as the host built up that final moment of conversation. The birds could speak too.. That meant it was possible that they would never have to carry parchment. However if one fell into the wrong hands, perhaps all past messages could be coaxed from it.. A risky endeavor for sure - One would be wise to keep track of their Phoenixes.

He stifled a laugh at the accusations, smiling slightly and looking to the four men behind him as if to ask which one of them gave it away. But he knew it could not have been them, for they had never left him presence for even a moment since he arrived. "Well," he started, looking back to him. "It looks like I'll have to tell them to take back the bribe they gave to the innkeeper. If you look upon the squadrons of knights and soldiers and guards that every other noble at this festival lugged along with them I'd say mine are far from out of place. I couldn't walk into a Phoenix Estates palace with a blade and four men and be confident I'd be leaving without any shackles. You companion there said it best herself earlier, Selorians make for more common prisoners than guests." He gestured to Maya, who had been obediently quiet through their short exchange.

"I assumed I'd be doing nobody any favors if I brought my men all the way up here. Tensions would have been considerably higher than they already are - I'm sure you understand. They're my backup force in case anything gets rough. They've no orders but to storm in here in case things get ugly." It was hard to tell if Vaerin told the truth or not, being a man of as many secrets as he was. He was used to ruling from afar and positioning those in his command where they needed to be at the right place and the right time. To have been discovered was a disappointment, but perhaps good in the long run. He wouldn't want to be seen as arrogant having only walked in with the four men after all.The Suzerain's voice was amused.

"You are your father's son, Lord Vaerin. Offer your own kin over as a gift with one hand, while concealing soldiers in my city with the other. The difference between your troops and theirs, dominus, is that they do not hide them. They display them openly, where their threat is known. Honesty, if you will."

The Suzerain let out a curt laugh. His unblinking eyes seemed to revel in the bandit king's overt mistrust.

"But to put your mind at ease, Lord Vaerin, if I wanted you dead or in shackles I'd march an army into your lands, not invite you to tea. You're here because you are one of the Estates closest neighbors. It seems like things would be much better for both of us if we were to be on friendly terms, rather than at each other's throats. Would you not agree? I'm not keen on the idea of enemies in my own backyard."


Jarah looked over towards the Senator as he spoke, noting Liora’s closeness as he did, before returning his attention to the bird perched upon the Suzerain’s shoulder. He reached forward tenderly, focusing to keep his hand from shaking as the tips of his fingers brushed against the dark red feathers. The feathers were quite warm to the touch though not hot and Jarah carefully drew his fingers down following the natural direction of the feather in a soft stroke.


I figure you should probably determine how it responds.
The bird stared at the Prince with weary eyes, puffing up its feathers and shying way from his hand as it slowly moved to touch the bird. But soon the bird was leaning against the Suzerain's head and could escape the Prince's touch no longer. It eyed the Prince with some annoyance, but made no other move, intently watching the lord as he stroked it feathers.

"Well, he doesn't hate you." The Suzerain quipped.

Behind them the Senator's attentions seemed engrossed in the Zhen girl on his lap, his smile from ear to ear.

[Minescratcher]

"You're gift is greatly appreciated friend. Welcome to the Phœnīx Estates. I am Vajet Aëtius Patria of the Curia Phœnīx. I hope you have traveled well." The Senator greeted Martino. Behind him and Suzerain nodded. "And this is the Suzerain of the Curia, Doge of the Republic and Dux of the Estates."

"Light of the Exalted shine upon you, friend. Thank you for the gift. It will be put to good use, I assure you."
"I am honored to hear that, and even more honored to make your acquaintance. But let us put these pleasantries aside. If you will give me one moment more..."

Martino turned to his guards and spoke in a low voice. "You may dismiss. Wulfa, please find Marko before you enjoy yourself too much. Report back to the Arrow in five hours for further instructions. If I am not there, report to the Admiral." The three men behind him saluted and walked away from the gazebo.

The young diplomat fiddled with his hands for a moment before looking back to the Suzerain and continuing. "As strange and amazing as it may seem, we Nevites have turned our attention back to the world at large in recent decades. News has come to my father that the south-western heathens are peddling strange medicines among themselves and the faithful alike. We have heard that they call themselves Khada’Aldul, but we wish for more information. Who, exactly, are they, and what is their country?"

[Rain Dragon]

Maya Lepída wandered the garden, taking a break from the endless stream of diplomats that had bombarded her since the day had begun. She was not a diplomat by any means, but rather a warrior. Such pleasantries were largely out of her element. She took in the Senator's estate, finding the same calm in it that she imagined the Senator often did. Why else would have have had it planted? A number of bright colors drew her attention, but they were not flowers. Not far from her there was a group of individuals with wildly color hair, all relatively short. Their dress loudly proclaimed their foreignness, but it was not their garb that drew Maya's eyes. It was the fact that two of them possessed ears and tails not so unlike her own. More tails, technically speaking, but the pairs resemblance to a small Alepoúsói was uncanny.

With fiery red hair that matched her ears and large bushy tail, Maya stood only a few inches under six foot, and thus was much taller than the Ten Len she saw. She stood in plain sight, staring with wide eyes at the newcomers, a million questions running through her mind.

The slightly shorter Ten Len caught sight of the stranger's brilliant red hair out the corner of one eye. Adjusting his glasses slightly, he turned toward her and approached. The Ten Len wore a deep blue silk robe-like garment under a formal over jacket which was a sky blue with white flowers embroidered along the edge. Bowing slightly, he said quietly and with a heavy accent, "Hello." His teal ears twitched slightly as an uncertain look crossed his face. He continued awkwardly, "My name is Chen. Can I help you?"

Sorry it's short; hopefully there is something to go on. I have been having a hard time getting back into pbp. =P

[BootStrapTommy]

"I am honored to hear that, and even more honored to make your acquaintance. But let us put these pleasantries aside. If you will give me one moment more..."

Martino turned to his guards and spoke in a low voice. "You may dismiss. Wulfa, please find Marko before you enjoy yourself too much. Report back to the Arrow in five hours for further instructions. If I am not there, report to the Admiral." The three men behind him saluted and walked away from the gazebo.

The young diplomat fiddled with his hands for a moment before looking back to the Suzerain and continuing. "As strange and amazing as it may seem, we Nevites have turned our attention back to the world at large in recent decades. News has come to my father that the south-western heathens are peddling strange medicines among themselves and the faithful alike. We have heard that they call themselves Khada’Aldul, but we wish for more information. Who, exactly, are they, and what is their country?""I'll admit, of them I know little. Ruled by men who consider themselves gods. Their Law-Giver was invited to attend, to get a measure of them, but I've yet heard news of their arrival, or even of intent to attend the festivities."


The slightly shorter Ten Len caught sight of the stranger's brilliant red hair out the corner of one eye. Adjusting his glasses slightly, he turned toward her and approached. The Ten Len wore a deep blue silk robe-like garment under a formal over jacket which was a sky blue with white flowers embroidered along the edge. Bowing slightly, he said quietly and with a heavy accent, "Hello." His teal ears twitched slightly as an uncertain look crossed his face. He continued awkwardly, "My name is Chen. Can I help you?"

Sorry it's short; hopefully there is something to go on. I have been having a hard time getting back into pbp. =PMaya looked down on the small creature as he approached her, with open fascination on her face. She blinked repeatedly, her tail wagging excitedly behind her.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Chen. You look just like an Alepoúsói!"

Hehe. Short like the Ten Len.


Kalus nods, " Do not trouble yourselves too much for our sake, we may have come across from the Northern sea for all we know, though if you did find our origins, we would be extremely gracious. If you wish, I could arrange for a copy of our journey south to be delivered to you."
Hearing of the peaceful homeland, Kalus again nods, " I am glad to hear it, the nomads of our land are hoping to settle themselves down as well, so let us hope this remains good for both of us.

Kalus managed to hide his slight shudder at the history of the Fox Hunt, he thought it was only a clever play on words. It was that, in fact, but only due to luck apparently. He smiled a little more openly instead.
"I would certainly be interested in seeing that at some point in the future Harbinger, but I'm afraid I would be quite useless in forests and grassland, and definitely not subtle enough. "
Kalus gave a slightly more competitive glance, "although I would be tempted to try a joust or melee if I were here on a less formal function. "


[/B]Kalus then gives a more solemn look
"In any case I wonder what either of you know about Khada'aldul or our other near neighbours? As they are part of the reason for our attendance."Maya continued to only make eye contact with Kalus.

"The new hunt is a bit more of a test of skills. The best and stealthiest of the Alepoúsói areani make their way into the Panoúrgos Iuga. The objective is to track and find them, and collect a red scarf from them. Great fun."

Her ears perked up at the name, but a pensive look crossed her face.

"I don't believe I've heard of Khada'aldul. I must admit that I am woefully ignorant of the world outside of the peninsula."

[Rain Dragon]

Maya looked down on the small creature as he approached her, with open fascination on her face. She blinked repeatedly, her tail wagging excitedly behind her.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Chen. You look just like an Alepoúsói!"

Hehe. Short like the Ten Len.

Chen's own bushy tails tipped with white displayed out behind him as he politely took a step back so he did not have to crane his neck much to talk to the stranger. "You as well, Madame. Sorry, but what is an Alepoúsói?" Chen struggled with the foreign word. A Xen Len with pink hair noticed Chen's distraction and whispered to the Empress. Bowing low, the Xen Len collected a scroll and brush and hurried to Chen's side to take notes.

Heh. Btw, do the (accents?) on the letters denote a special pronunciation?

[DimpleLoamsdown]

The Senator let out a mirthful laugh.

"I don't think that is anyone's native language, dominus.

Boris let out a short, deep and sincere laugh at the senator's comment.

Rhune is the city you are currently in. The Demesne is those territories that are governed by the Phenite, my people, strecthing from the sea to the peaks of the Iugis Ignis. You are currently in the Demesne as well. The mountains outside the city are the Panoúrgos Iuga, which branch out from the Iugis Ignis."

"Ah yes. Thank you for that information." Boris said after the Senator had finished speaking. "No. Now that I have removed my furs, this land is not too hot for myself and my people, although it is still quite warm, without doubt." Boris smiled, then continued. "I believe that, despite great amount of distance between our capitals, we can, and will benefit each other greatly."

Maya did her best to ignore the fact that she was now surrounded by a bunch of shirtless, muscly men of great stature. But when Mikhail approached, introducing himself and kneeling before her, her plan crumbled. Exalted, why must you test me so, today? She made eye contact with the large muscly man before, her cheeks filling with color. Her perked up atop her head, and the bushy fox tail emerging from just above her behind began to twitch erratically. Her gaze fell to his hand.

"I... I-I am Maya Lepída Patria, Harbinger of the Alepoúsói."

Her hand tentitive reached out, but not to Mikhail's hand, but to the scars on his chest. She ran a finger down one of them.

"A... a bear?"

"Maya Lepída," Mikhail said quietly. As her hand reached out, past his own, to his chest, he slowly lowered his hand that he had stretched out. He did not move, permitting Maya to feel the indentations where the scar had been cut.
"Yes, bear," he said. "The grizzly attacked me year ago, today. I was cutting wood for Benediqtov's Sharqoal Qompany, when grizzly attacked. I managed to fist fight her off, without killing her, or her cubs. I could not do so though, before she slashed my chest to my leg with her claws. I had to remain inside for months, relying on Highmen's medicine to survive deep wound." Mikhail paused for a moment, clearly reliving the painful experience in his head, shedding single tear, which ran slowly down his cheek and dripped onto Maya's hand on his scar. "I will never be man that I was again. I have never gone back to that forest." Mikhail hung his head, although he shed no more tears.

[BootStrapTommy]

Chen's own bushy tails tipped with white displayed out behind him as he politely took a step back so he did not have to crane his neck much to talk to the stranger. "You as well, Madame. Sorry, but what is an Alepoúsói?" Chen struggled with the foreign word. A Xen Len with pink hair noticed Chen's distraction and whispered to the Empress. Bowing low, the Xen Len collected a scroll and brush and hurried to Chen's side to take notes.

Heh. Btw, do the (accents?) on the letters denote a special pronunciation?Maya bent a bit at the waste, smiling down on the Ten Len. Her fluffy tail continued to bounce around excitedly. She had a huge smile on her face, a the sudden realization that elsewhere there were people's not unlike her own.

"As you said. I'm an Alepoúsói. The Harbinger to be exact, Maya Lepída Patria."

Yes, they do specify how those vowels are being pronounced.


Boris let out a short, deep and sincere laugh at the senator's comment.

"Ah yes. Thank you for that information." Boris said after the Senator had finished speaking. "No. Now that I have removed my furs, this land is not too hot for myself and my people, although it is still quite warm, without doubt." Boris smiled, then continued. "I believe that, despite great amount of distance between our capitals, we can, and will benefit each other greatly.""That is good. It would not do for the wweather to tress you too much."

The Senator's smile widen.

"I certainly hope so, Boris of Medved. It would be to the betterment of both our peoples. We already live in a time where there is too much trouble. We must do what we can to ensure we prosper."


"Maya Lepída," Mikhail said quietly. As her hand reached out, past his own, to his chest, he slowly lowered his hand that he had stretched out. He did not move, permitting Maya to feel the indentations where the scar had been cut.
"Yes, bear," he said. "The grizzly attacked me year ago, today. I was cutting wood for Benediqtov's Sharqoal Qompany, when grizzly attacked. I managed to fist fight her off, without killing her, or her cubs. I could not do so though, before she slashed my chest to my leg with her claws. I had to remain inside for months, relying on Highmen's medicine to survive deep wound." Mikhail paused for a moment, clearly reliving the painful experience in his head, shedding single tear, which ran slowly down his cheek and dripped onto Maya's hand on his scar. "I will never be man that I was again. I have never gone back to that forest." Mikhail hung his head, although he shed no more tears.Maya's eyes widened, as more color entered her cheeks. He eyes meet Mikhail's, sincerity in her voice.

"I.. I-I didn't mean to bring up something that so disconcerts you. M-my sincerest apologies. I am s-sorry to hear that. Mikhail. I hope that one day you will be able to go back."

[Lleban]

"Ah yes foreigners are protected by the rule of the grand council. Those who assault guest have no place in civilized society, in fact several kunni's from the west have established a presence in the pyramid city of Gao." Her manservant nods in agreement. She then meets the senators gaze. "Perhaps we can strike a bargain if your not fully convinced. All the gold your peons could could ever want, not simple trinkets but raw, unmarked bullion. In return you can send however many missionaries to Baalbek you wish"

[Legionary]

At some point in the day's festivities, during a lull between meetings with officials and entertainments, a elderly goblin matron cordially approaches your core delegation. By her mode of dress, it would seem that she's a Shishiyan Destar. She leans heavily on an ornate staff (likely not of goblin make, yet fashioned to her size), and she's flanked by a pair of exceptionally diligent looking goblin pikers. If it were of any interest, one may have noticed her entering the city with the Goblin King's little parade, in her own carriage, apparently regarded generally with honors by her fellows.

Her voice is grandmotherly, strained by age but tempered by it as well, "Beg pardon your Graces. Could you humor this humble one for a moment? This one is Auntie Baoguard, that is to say, Destar Baoguard, and if it please you, I have a riddle which troubles me. It is my hope you have an answer?"

After pausing to allow for pleasantries, introductions, and ascent to tell the riddle she speaks again, (though if outright dismissed she'll likely say it anyway in passing, as a form of goodbye).
Her tone briefly becomes ritualistic, almost as if reciting a familiar incantation, "Is light blessed when it burns, is darkness wicked when it soothes, find the difference between friend and foe, however do we choose? "

As the elderly goblin matron approaches the Slavian delegate, she is abruptly intercepted by Letho and the knights of Slavia. Auntie Baoguard says her piece to the armored behemoth only to be rebuked with a short and sharp reply.

"Choice is the privilege of the strong. You should not need to ponder such concerns, vermin," snarls Letho with open disdain. "Now remove yourself from our presence. You mistake your host's hospitality for that of ours." It seemed that the xenophobic Slavians cared little for the games of the goblin folk.


“Sex, drugs, and music mainly though we occasionally take the time to trade with foreigners,” Jarah answered with his own mischievous smile, “I don’t imagine too much has changed since the time of the Kingdom of Shamaran. We in the river valley take inspiration from the Mighty Ufratu which carved our home. Steady and slow with determined purpose but not without the capability to flood and break against the banks should a storm find its way across the mountains or the sea.”

“What of Slavia?” Jarah asked sparing once last glance to the towering Von Orlok knight before making eye contact with a drink server and waving him over, “I’m afraid there’s dreadfully little about your Duchy in the libraries of Zhentanna and our scouts reported a land largely closed to foreigners. Rest assured we do not begrudge such an attitude but respect it however it would do us well I think to lessen the distance between our people’s mutual understanding. I have read that your family has ruled in Slavia for centuries? Such fortitude as a noble line is to be commended.”

"That is indeed a candid way of looking at things," coyly remarks Lady Isabella at Jarah's openness on the state of his domain. The children of the infamous Black Duke reveled in the most heinous perversions, blood thirsty, incestuous, and vile. Yet Isabella continued to play the part of the respectable lady of class. She continued to smile unassuming, knowing that any festive degeneracy Jarah boasted paled in comparison to her and her sibling's malevolent indulgences. When pressed about her own homeland, the Slavian noblewoman is less forthcoming than her conservation partner. "You are a curious man aren't you, Prince. Drawn to the unknown like a moth to the lamp. Perhaps, if I lose my air mystery you will cease to find me enticing?" smiles Isabella, her words betraying nothing of her intentions.

"Or do you harbor an ulterior motive for catching my attention? Give the circumstances and present company I would not hold it against you."


"Of course. I had no intention to imply anything aside from respect, if that's what you mean." He nodded to the blunt correction, but almost seeming to take a hint of amusement in how it was received. Word that his intentions lay to the east was mildly concerning, but certainly still manageable if they could be convinced to turn the other way. Having little to say in return, he let the conversation sit in a comfortable silence just before Lady Isabella made her entry. It was well that he did not have to turn towards speaking of conflict in his own lands. Gang fights tended not to look all too honorable in the eyes of foreign commanders he often found.

She caught his eye as he stepped forwards, her distinct pale skin and black attire. Had there ever been a diplomatic female leader in Aerok he would expect them to dress much the same, or at least he hoped they would. He assumed that it was a pendant of the church that rested in her bust that he spotted out of the corner of his eye, but there was not a chance that he was about to glance down at her finer figure on his first encounter with the Slavian ruler. He prayed that she did not care to hear his title. Having nobody to announce it seemed like almost a disadvantage, though she knew well enough who he was.

"I feel quite the same Lady Isabella, and things are well. I fear the work of keeping my peoples from each-other's throats has kept me from making acquaintances with those around me. Fortunately, it seems my efforts have been rewarded. I've made a fair bit of progress in uniting my peoples as you likely would have been able to tell by the lack of raiders descending upon your carriage on your carriage ride across my lands. The warriors among us have little choice in the matter, and some are quite restless for something to sink their blades into." He glanced over to the left at nothing in particular, his mind pondering if there was anything else he should mention before nodding to the southerners. "..Something I intend to point them towards in the coming years. I trust that things are bright and cheery as always in Slavia?" His face curled to a smile, well aware of the bleak contrast from a place such as the one they were in. It was called 'cursed' for a reason. Hopefully she would see the appeal in his jest, though he wouldn't count on it.

"Slavia is as Slavia was and will remain as Slavia is," was Lady Isabella's cryptic way of telling Vaerin that little had changed in the grim Duchy. "Aerok on the other hand seems to be balancing on a knife's edge. As it stands your pious neighbors see you as a black sheep at best, and a blight at worst. Not surprising given your reputation as a coalition of ruffians, bandits and petty warlords, if one wants be completely honest," remarks the Slavian noblewoman aloofly as she studies the man before her from head to toe.

"Oh darling, don't take offense. We must be cruel to be kind," she begs politely as she gently places her unnaturally cold hand on Vaerin's chest.

"Your father's legacy may have elevated you above the common riff raff, but there is no denying that your fledgling nation still lacks legitimacy. Hollow titles and shaky claims by both arms and law, makes your esteemed neighbors wonder what distinguishes you from any other of lawless expanse."

"But we want to help you, Lord Vaerin. We want to bless you with that elusive legitimacy. An offering of blood and earth," smiles Isabella as she stares deep into Vaerin's blue eyes.

"The Duchy of Slavia is willing to recognize the Baron of Seloris' rightful claim not only of Aerok, but the entire coastline to the south of it (Regions 6 & 20). You will have the might of the Slavian warhost to secure your domain though the truest of means, the violence of action."

"Of course, it is only to be expected that this defensive pact is mutual. You see, Greater Slavia is an inevitability. As we speak my father has already called in the banners. Six thousand strong, thousands more to come. We march to unite the Great Southern Coast (Regions 46, 47 & 48) under the single banner of the Von Orloks. We will protect your claim, you support ours. It's just common courtesy," she explained casually as if they discussing nothing heavier then idle gossip.

"As for the blood, like your father, you must look to your own legacy. It is no secret that your bloodline is muddy, a Baron with the linage more akin to that of a common serf. Surely it would favorable to dilute the red that through your unborn heir's veins with a more nobler stock."

"We would expect this union of mutual cooperation to be cemented with the unbreakable bonds of matrimony. And as such, my father offers my younger sister, Carmella Von Orlok, to betroth you Lord Vaerin. Think of the legacy you would leave for your sons. Blood and earth. A claim to an ancient and noble linage and vast lands, secured by mighty allies. This the moment in history when you decide whether your Barony fades back in obscurity and anarchy or finally establishes itself as nation worthy of recognition." Isabella's gaze is fixed on Vaerin as slowly processes the weight of what the lady has laid upon him, her veiled eyes carefully studying his face for the slightest inclinations of intent.

[Rain Dragon]

Maya bent a bit at the waist, smiling down on the Ten Len. Her fluffy tail continued to bounce around excitedly. She had a huge smile on her face, a the sudden realization that elsewhere there were people's not unlike her own.

"As you said. I'm an Alepoúsói. The Harbinger to be exact, Maya Lepída Patria."

Yes, they do specify how those vowels are being pronounced.

Chen briefly considered taking another step back before deciding it would perhaps be rude, though Maya seemed she might be too excited to have noticed. Nodding politely he replied, "Ah. I did not know of your station; forgive me if I have been disrespectful." Chen spoke a few words to the Xen Len beside him in their native language. "Would you like some tea?"



For Everyone!
At some point in the day's festivities, during a lull between meetings with officials and entertainments, a elderly goblin matron cordially approaches your core delegation. By her mode of dress, it would seem that she's a Shishiyan Destar. She leans heavily on an ornate staff (likely not of goblin make, yet fashioned to her size), and she's flanked by a pair of exceptionally diligent looking goblin pikers. If it were of any interest, one may have noticed her entering the city with the Goblin King's little parade, in her own carriage, apparently regarded generally with honors by her fellows.

Her voice is grandmotherly, strained by age but tempered by it as well, "Beg pardon your Graces. Could you humor this humble one for a moment? This one is Auntie Baoguard, that is to say, Destar Baoguard, and if it please you, I have a riddle which troubles me. It is my hope you have an answer?"

After pausing to allow for pleasantries, introductions, and ascent to tell the riddle she speaks again, (though if outright dismissed she'll likely say it anyway in passing, as a form of goodbye).
Her tone briefly becomes ritualistic, almost as if reciting a familiar incantation, "Is light blessed when it burns, is darkness wicked when it soothes, find the difference between friend and foe, however do we choose? "

The Empress smiled and said thoughtfully, "It sounds more a philosophy than a riddle to me. It is not always so clear what the best path may be, so one should think carefully and examine the situation for what it is rather than follow assumptions or a common misconception." She took a sip of tea as the smaller, silver-haired Xen Len beside her offered to pour Auntie Baoguard one as well. Such a statement suited the Xin Kun way of thinking well. After all, the world truly isn't black and white.

[QuintonBeck]

The bird stared at the Prince with weary eyes, puffing up its feathers and shying way from his hand as it slowly moved to touch the bird. But soon the bird was leaning against the Suzerain's head and could escape the Prince's touch no longer. It eyed the Prince with some annoyance, but made no other move, intently watching the lord as he stroked it feathers.

"Well, he doesn't hate you." The Suzerain quipped.

Behind them the Senator's attentions seemed engrossed in the Zhen girl on his lap, his smile from ear to ear.

Jarah withdrew his hand and returned it to his side, "A truly magnificent creature. I would very much desire to purchase one and perhaps discuss other economic arrangements between our realm at your convenience Suzerain. Let us meet later once all the guests have arrived or I shall be happy to discuss matters with the Senator if he is capable of negotiating on your behalf. I believe we might each benefit from the other."

Jarah gave a respectful bow and smile to the Suzerain before turning his attentions to his half sister, "Come Liora, perhaps we will meet with the Senator again later."

"I believe we will," Liora said, eyes remaining upon the Senator as she rose from his lap and glided over to take Jarah's arm.

With goodbyes made the Zhen Prince exited the gazebo. A few of the dancers who had either been unsuccessful or uninterested in what they found followed behind but a few remained among the notable members of the Curia.


We don't have to do an IC skip to later. Just assume we have the IC version of our PM discussion behind closed doors.




"That is indeed a candid way of looking at things," coyly remarks Lady Isabella at Jarah's openness on the state of his domain. The children of the infamous Black Duke reveled in the most heinous perversions, blood thirsty, incestuous, and vile. Yet Isabella continued to play the part of the respectable lady of class. She continued to smile unassuming, knowing that any festive degeneracy Jarah boasted paled in comparison to her and her sibling's malevolent indulgences. When pressed about her own homeland, the Slavian noblewoman is less forthcoming than her conservation partner. "You are a curious man aren't you, Prince. Drawn to the unknown like a moth to the lamp. Perhaps, if I lose my air mystery you will cease to find me enticing?" smiles Isabella, her words betraying nothing of her intentions.

"Or do you harbor an ulterior motive for catching my attention? Give the circumstances and present company I would not hold it against you."


Jarah smiled approvingly as the pale veiled lady teased him. While she spoke coyly and in seeming unfamiliarity with such "candor" the Prince couldn't help but think he saw something else in the teasing smile on her dark lips. He wondered perhaps if she too had trodden taboo ground such that many northerners would find abhorrent. The ancient tradition of ruling brother marrying ruling sister endured from ancient founding to today between Zhentanna and Gehenna and while children of such direct issue were rare they did still occur. Twins born with the rare mark of the gift of the blood had been sired between his brother and wife.

"I cannot imagine a woman such as yourself running dry on mystery and the unknown to uncover," Jarah answered, "And if any of my motives appear to be ulterior I apologize. It would be my great pleasure to discuss with you both friendship and trade between our realms preferably in your or my own bedchambers here tonight. I do not mean to speak offensively to a noble woman of such standing as yourself but I do speak candidly."

[Legionary]

Jarah smiled approvingly as the pale veiled lady teased him. While she spoke coyly and in seeming unfamiliarity with such "candor" the Prince couldn't help but think he saw something else in the teasing smile on her dark lips. He wondered perhaps if she too had trodden taboo ground such that many northerners would find abhorrent. The ancient tradition of ruling brother marrying ruling sister endured from ancient founding to today between Zhentanna and Gehenna and while children of such direct issue were rare they did still occur. Twins born with the rare mark of the gift of the blood had been sired between his brother and wife.

"I cannot imagine a woman such as yourself running dry on mystery and the unknown to uncover," Jarah answered, "And if any of my motives appear to be ulterior I apologize. It would be my great pleasure to discuss with you both friendship and trade between our realms preferably in your or my own bedchambers here tonight. I do not mean to speak offensively to a noble woman of such standing as yourself but I do speak candidly."

There is a deep guttural growl that emanates from behind Letho's mask as Jarah's flirtations become more overt. "Disrespect my cousin's integrity again, dishonor her with with your crass innuendo and I will rip the horns from your skull," coldly snarls the armored juggernaut as he steps between the prince and his kin.

"You expect too much from a Southerner. A lack of courtly etiquette is to be expected among such foreigners," reassures Isabella calmly as she wraps her slender arm around Letho's, placing herself by the giant's side. "I can hardly fault one for being forthright, but fear you will disappointed when we return the favor. Slavia's sphere of interest is small and Zhentanna lies a great many leagues beyond it. We have no interest in entangling ourselves with the affairs of realms so far from our shores. We do not seek their trade, nor their friendship. Your intangible goodwill is meaningless to my father, a man of pragmatism," concedes Isabella with regretful forwardness.

"It is a shame, an ulterior motive would have let us delve further, but when taken at face value Prince I just don't see the chemistry." It is difficult to tell whether Isabella is referring to waning relationship between herself and Jarah, or Slavia and Zhentanna. "Surely your charms would be better spent upon those closer to your borders? Those that can offer you something more meaningful?"

[QuintonBeck]

There is a deep guttural growl that emanates from behind Letho's mask as Jarah's flirtations become more overt. "Disrespect my cousin's integrity again, dishonor her with with your crass innuendo and I will rip the horns from your skull," coldly snarls the armored juggernaut as he steps between the prince and his kin.

"You expect too much from a Southerner. A lack of courtly etiquette is to be expected among such foreigners," reassures Isabella calmly as she wraps her slender arm around Letho's, placing herself by the giant's side. "I can hardly fault one for being forthright, but fear you will disappointed when we return the favor. Slavia's sphere of interest is small and Zhentanna lies a great many leagues beyond it. We have no interest in entangling ourselves with the affairs of realms so far from our shores. We do not seek their trade, nor their friendship. Your intangible goodwill is meaningless to my father, a man of pragmatism," concedes Isabella with regretful forwardness.

"It is a shame, an ulterior motive would have let us delve further, but when taken at face value Prince I just don't see the chemistry." It is difficult to tell whether Isabella is referring to waning relationship between herself and Jarah, or Slavia and Zhentanna. "Surely your charms would be better spent upon those closer to your borders? Those that can offer you something more meaningful?"

Jarah spread his hands wide in feigned apology as the mountain of armor grumbled about decency and respect while dressed for war in the middle of a sea of ambassadors.

"I had thought you capable of offering meaningfulness Lady Isabella but if you insist yourself incapable I shall not argue for I have no desire to anger your cousin further. Sir, I assure you I meant no disrespect towards your cousin or your country. In my lands pleasure of the flesh is as common as I suspect threats and beheadings are in your own line of work. We see no need to hide away our natural desires behind politic and intrigue. Sharing one's bed with a lover and killing one who threatens those you love, these are only natural and nothing to find shame in."

He turned again to Isabella, the smile that had played across his face since their introduction remaining still despite the seeming souring of their conversation.

"Should your father realize it is sometimes important to have friends in distant realms who do not covet their neighbor's lands or agitate to influence their neighbor's court we might speak again. And should you find yourself personally interested in exploring the southern lack of etiquette I shall alert my guards to permit your entrance for the duration of this celebration. I cannot make promises to exclusivity but I can promise discreetness if that is what you desire for northern sensibility."

"Now, if you will permit it I shall take my leave lest my lack of hiding that which need not be hidden offend further. And please remember, if you or your father's mind changes my offer of friendship and trade still stands, at least until the end of the Hunt and I certainly hope beyond."

[Mechalich]

Jarah spread his hands wide in feigned apology as the mountain of armor grumbled about decency and respect while dressed for war in the middle of a sea of ambassadors.

"I had thought you capable of offering meaningfulness Lady Isabella but if you insist yourself incapable I shall not argue for I have no desire to anger your cousin further. Sir, I assure you I meant no disrespect towards your cousin or your country. In my lands pleasure of the flesh is as common as I suspect threats and beheadings are in your own line of work. We see no need to hide away our natural desires behind politic and intrigue. Sharing one's bed with a lover and killing one who threatens those you love, these are only natural and nothing to find shame in."

He turned again to Isabella, the smile that had played across his face since their introduction remaining still despite the seeming souring of their conversation.

"Should your father realize it is sometimes important to have friends in distant realms who do not covet their neighbor's lands or agitate to influence their neighbor's court we might speak again. And should you find yourself personally interested in exploring the southern lack of etiquette I shall alert my guards to permit your entrance for the duration of this celebration. I cannot make promises to exclusivity but I can promise discreetness if that is what you desire for northern sensibility."

"Now, if you will permit it I shall take my leave lest my lack of hiding that which need not be hidden offend further. And please remember, if you or your father's mind changes my offer of friendship and trade still stands, at least until the end of the Hunt and I certainly hope beyond."

Fena watched the interplay between the Zhentannan prince, the Phoenix Estates, and the Slavians with considerable interest.

The lasciviousness of the Zhentannans was frustrating, but she suspected it was considerably more calculating than it seemed. The woman’s seemingly successful seduction of the senator was so fast, so easy, and so open, it was astounding. No doubt the woman’s extraordinary beauty – Fena writhed in envy thinking on it – and the general openness of these coastal people contributed heavily of course. Attempting that maneuver with a Desan would get you impaled.

And, as the next discussion proved, it seemed there were those in the north who felt similarly. The pale-skinned Slavian representative was hard-tongued. Fena held herself still, knowing she must not express amusement at the Prince’s momentary plight.

When the Prince turned away, Fena sensed her moment had come. She let him take a few steps and then hurried forward. Bowing carefully, she moved to introduce herself. “Honored Prince and Scion of Holies, I am Fena Mazam of the Yssa Mountains.” She did her best to smile contritely. “Your pardon, but I could not help but overhear your desire to seek friends abroad. In that regard I believe we may open discussions, if you are amenable.”

[BootStrapTommy]

"Ah yes foreigners are protected by the rule of the grand council. Those who assault guest have no place in civilized society, in fact several kunni's from the west have established a presence in the pyramid city of Gao." Her manservant nods in agreement. She then meets the senators gaze. "Perhaps we can strike a bargain if your not fully convinced. All the gold your peons could could ever want, not simple trinkets but raw, unmarked bullion. In return you can send however many missionaries to Baalbek you wish"The Suzerain stood silent for a moment. Eventually he spoke.

"If the missionaries are to expect no trouble, I will do what I can to ensure the light of the Exalted is spread throughout your lands. May the Exalted's light shine upon you, dominus, that you seek what is best for your people. I will aid you in bringing your people to the light as well."

He paused again.

"The Curia has been looking for sources for our mint. Your generous offer is appreciated. Thank you."


Chen briefly considered taking another step back before deciding it would perhaps be rude, though Maya seemed she might be too excited to have noticed. Nodding politely he replied, "Ah. I did not know of your station; forgive me if I have been disrespectful." Chen spoke a few words to the Xen Len beside him in their native language. "Would you like some tea?"Maya's face brightened at the invitation. Her tail picked up speed behind her.

"Yes! I would love some! Thank you, dominus!"

[lt_murgen]

About an hour after Felipe had sent word to find and inform the Zhen Prince of his desire to meet with him the now much shrunken Zhen delegation composed only of the Prince, the dancer who had been sent to fetch him, and the two poorly disguised guards who still remained an unobtrusive but obvious distance from Jarah arrived at the delegation of the Grasping Isles. As he was introduced by the dancer, a cousin sent away from his eldest brother’s court to avoid further conflict with his wife, Jarah attempted to size up the foreign delegates. He had heard the islander people were steeped in trade above all else earning them recognition as a direct competitor to Zhen interests abroad. Nevertheless they were seeking conversation which suggested perhaps a desire for cooperation and mutual prosperity. As his cousin concluded his introduction the Zhen Prince stepped forward, a smile brightening his features.

Felipe crossed his arms to his chest, fingers touching shoulders. He closed his eyes for a respectful second. "Prince Jarah of Kinneret and Zhentanna, thank you for answering my request. This event was a welcome opportunity to meet the leaders of the northern and southern coasts. Our islands are closest point of crossing. This presents an opportunity, as well as a risk. I felt it best to meet in person with as many leaders as I could to see how our mutual interests could be served."


The Suzerain seemed pleased. His eyes, however, never seemed to blink.

"I'm glad to hear that. I'm pleased to hear that Rhune still holds a reputation abroad. And that it pleased you so to see it."

The Senator beamed at the compliment., bowing toward the Tito Nicodemo in gratitude.

"Thank you! I'm sure my gardeners would be pleased to hear your praise. They are talented indeed, and hardworkers. Perhaps I could summon and arrange a meeting. They are as passionate about this garden as I am. I'm sure they would not mind sharing what they know to those who might put it to good use!"

"It is a tragedy of our islands that the crossroads of the world are so lacking in variety, Senator. It is my intention to try to bring as much color and variety to my lands as we can arrange. I would want our neighbors to the north and south to consider Barrio Forasterio a second home."

Turning back to the Suzerain, "That extends to your leadership as well, Suzerain. Diplomatic convoys are welcome to transit our waters on their missions to the southern coasts."

[Zayuz]

Jarah took the offered hand and returned a firm but considerably weaker handshake. Jarah did not seem disturbed by the strength of the man before him, having expected as much from a warrior king.

[COLOR="#DAA520"]“Prince Jarah of Kinneret and Zhentanna,” Jarah answered in return, “The pleasure is mine.”

Jarah paused to glance about the party and take a sip from his wine, “Gold receives its value from its shining beauty and convenience for common transactions but it is not valuable. The key to wealth is determining value. You see this freely flowing gold as valuable but it isn’t for the very reason you so astutely observed. If it were truly valuable would it be given so freely?”

“Value is difficult to determine, it takes years of practice and dedication to become acquainted with what is and is not valuable. You for instance Lord Vaerin strike me as a man of great value. Your value is your strength and your power over your men, something far more valuable than even a wagon full of gold, if you’ll pardon my imprudence in saying so. I pride myself on my ability to evaluate value as do my brothers with whom I rule Zhentanna. We are not warriors but we recognize the value a warrior brings.”

“So tell me Lord Vaerin, if you will indulge me, do you see any value in myself?” Jarah looked directly into the scarred visage seeking any tell or thought that might hide behind the bandit king’s eyes.

Prince Jarah was certainly a man that piqued Vaerin's interest. The thought of determining value not only through coin was something he thought himself familiar with, but he had never sought to think about it in quite that same manner. Thoughts of some of his agents and holdings arose at the thought of value separate from coin. Perhaps his closer advisers even.. His father would have certainly been one. His eyes escaped to the side as he pondered, failing to hide a flattered smile when the foreign prince sized him up. His words were generous, and seemed genuine. Perhaps it was these traits that he saw in the baron that brought him forwards in the first place.

His gaze returned to him, pausing a moment in response to the question as their eyes met. "Your compliments are most kind, Prince Jahar. I admit that I see little value in many of the foreign kings at this event who rule solely on the grounds of inheritance - Not having been tested for all their supposed prosperity. While at first those thoughts echoed similarly towards you based on appearance alone, I now see things in a different light. There is value in wisdom, and in the bravery of being able to approach one such as myself who would more likely be at the walls bearing fire and axes than talking peacefully. I think that the determination of worth in of itself would make one exalted among strategists - To know which pieces go where to put together the grandest of pictures. I'd think you are a man who will take what he has in runs with it, finding that over time your score of bounty has grown from a chest to a vault. But I've known you only a moment, and my judgement may not be complete. I suppose you may have the certain advantage of not having thrown any frivolous parties as a display of wealth and power to the world.. At least to my knowledge." He smiles, sipping at the beverage that was most kindly given to him by the prince.

Just because there were tensions with the host, it seemed that they would hardly prevent the baron from finding a surprising pleasure in discussing with the guests - At least a few of which were far less dry than he originally anticipated.


The Suzerain's voice was amused.

"You are your father's son, Lord Vaerin. Offer your own kin over as a gift with one hand, while concealing soldiers in my city with the other. The difference between your troops and theirs, dominus, is that they do not hide them. They display them openly, where their threat is known. Honesty, if you will."

The Suzerain let out a curt laugh. His unblinking eyes seemed to revel in the bandit king's overt mistrust.

"But to put your mind at ease, Lord Vaerin, if I wanted you dead or in shackles I'd march an army into your lands, not invite you to tea. You're here because you are one of the Estates closest neighbors. It seems like things would be much better for both of us if we were to be on friendly terms, rather than at each other's throats. Would you not agree? I'm not keen on the idea of enemies in my own backyard."

The amused tone coupled with the genuine intentions put an embarrassed smile on the baron's face. It certainly would have been bold to arrest him at a public event in front of so many others..

"A healthy dose of paranoia has far from hurt my reign. Having a local ally hurts only the man who puts his guard down first - Here's to hoping that your intentions stay pure in the seasons to come. I might tell my men that they are free to act as they please should you allow me to, though I doubt it will aid your people's opinion of mine seeing armed Selorians wandering the streets like stray dogs."

He stopped, straightened his expression a bit, looking as if something were troubling slightly and then continuing on a different note.

"As far as I am aware, there are lands remaining unclaimed by any major powers - Held together loosely by lesser gangs, tribes, and kings with only false titles. I should ask of you.. No; I should warn you as one who seeks to become allies of Seloria, do not cross us in our conquests and we may yet see the rift between our peoples repaired. ..My people finally brought together under a single banner."


"Slavia is as Slavia was and will remain as Slavia is," was Lady Isabella's cryptic way of telling Vaerin that little had changed in the grim Duchy. "Aerok on the other hand seems to be balancing on a knife's edge. As it stands your pious neighbors see you as a black sheep at best, and a blight at worst. Not surprising given your reputation as a coalition of ruffians, bandits and petty warlords, if one wants be completely honest," remarks the Slavian noblewoman aloofly as she studies the man before her from head to toe.

"Oh darling, don't take offense. We must be cruel to be kind," she begs politely as she gently places her unnaturally cold hand on Vaerin's chest.

"Your father's legacy may have elevated you above the common riff raff, but there is no denying that your fledgling nation still lacks legitimacy. Hollow titles and shaky claims by both arms and law, makes your esteemed neighbors wonder what distinguishes you from any other of lawless expanse."

"But we want to help you, Lord Vaerin. We want to bless you with that elusive legitimacy. An offering of blood and earth," smiles Isabella as she stares deep into Vaerin's blue eyes.

"The Duchy of Slavia is willing to recognize the Baron of Seloris' rightful claim not only of Aerok, but the entire coastline to the south of it (Regions 6 & 20). You will have the might of the Slavian warhost to secure your domain though the truest of means, the violence of action."

"Of course, it is only to be expected that this defensive pact is mutual. You see, Greater Slavia is an inevitability. As we speak my father has already called in the banners. Six thousand strong, thousands more to come. We march to unite the Great Southern Coast (Regions 46, 47 & 48) under the single banner of the Von Orloks. We will protect your claim, you support ours. It's just common courtesy," she explained casually as if they discussing nothing heavier then idle gossip.

"As for the blood, like your father, you must look to your own legacy. It is no secret that your bloodline is muddy, a Baron with the linage more akin to that of a common serf. Surely it would favorable to dilute the red that through your unborn heir's veins with a more nobler stock."

"We would expect this union of mutual cooperation to be cemented with the unbreakable bonds of matrimony. And as such, my father offers my younger sister, Carmella Von Orlok, to betroth you Lord Vaerin. Think of the legacy you would leave for your sons. Blood and earth. A claim to an ancient and noble linage and vast lands, secured by mighty allies. This the moment in history when you decide whether your Barony fades back in obscurity and anarchy or finally establishes itself as nation worthy of recognition." Isabella's gaze is fixed on Vaerin as slowly processes the weight of what the lady has laid upon him, her veiled eyes carefully studying his face for the slightest inclinations of intent.

At first, Vaerin could only help but smile at the remark about being considered thieves, bandits and warlords. He knew full well his reputation among other lands, and sought to see it molded into a reputation of power and ruthlessness - A legacy of kings that were founded only with great effort. Though his natural being told him that she made it out to be something to be ashamed of, his pride told him otherwise. There was a certain spark that came from making something of nothing - And it was a spark his father passed to him. Perhaps it was something that the Duchess of Slavia did not have to know, being where she was among her people.. But she sure knew how to make a proposal.

Following her hand to his chest and feeling the faintest of chills echo through his body, his eyes met hers as she described what was perhaps the most appealing proposal he'd ever received. He could tell it was worded carefully, but he could not deny any of it from being true. His titles were shaky, and perhaps only slightly better than many of the places he himself selected as points of conquest to be made on account of weak kings and those who even he refused to regard as legitimate rulers. He was barely at that line, and it helped not that two of the major gangs were still contrary to his rule. It felt like the only other noise in the room aside from her voice was his heart pumping in his chest at the thought of the opportunity - The honor of being married into the Von Orlok dynasty. Her claim would no doubt boost his to a level in which few even among his own ignorant people could ignore, and in his successes Lady Isabella would share in his rewards.

It came as a minor shock to hear that her people had a host of six thousand. His numbers fell short of even half of that, though his scouts along the southern coast informed him that they had been building up a great while. His plans of conquest were cunning - Perhaps even dishonorable, but that only made each man in his army so much stronger to not be held back by the limits of tradition and chivalry.

He started slowly, his eyes never faltering from her gaze. If he declined no doubt his claims would be seen as less than nothing to the Slavians. Their great armies could make short work of it - Or serve as the cause that finally unites all of the segregated factions of Aerok. But the opposite would be true if he accepted their offer, gaining the respect of those around him whilst prospering in a much greater selection of land and with the army of Slavia ready to back his claims. There would no doubt be drawbacks for either option, and the spark of independence that drove him was begging him not accept.

Naturally, it fell silent when he did.

"I would be most interested in seeing what we might accomplish as mutual allies. My armies will be by your side, prepared to support your claims as yours will mine. I would be quite pleased however to meet with my future wife before I commit fully to the proposal - To see her, and to hopefully get to trust before I let her into my demesne. Together we will yet see our nations' mark on our world." Vaerin made a silent sigh in relief, his cumulative thoughts escaping his lips. "I'll see to it that the prestige of your bloodline is similarly elevated through this deal; This is quite the opportunity for the both of us."

[QuintonBeck]

Fena watched the interplay between the Zhentannan prince, the Phoenix Estates, and the Slavians with considerable interest.

The lasciviousness of the Zhentannans was frustrating, but she suspected it was considerably more calculating than it seemed. The woman’s seemingly successful seduction of the senator was so fast, so easy, and so open, it was astounding. No doubt the woman’s extraordinary beauty – Fena writhed in envy thinking on it – and the general openness of these coastal people contributed heavily of course. Attempting that maneuver with a Desan would get you impaled.

And, as the next discussion proved, it seemed there were those in the north who felt similarly. The pale-skinned Slavian representative was hard-tongued. Fena held herself still, knowing she must not express amusement at the Prince’s momentary plight.

When the Prince turned away, Fena sensed her moment had come. She let him take a few steps and then hurried forward. Bowing carefully, she moved to introduce herself. “Honored Prince and Scion of Holies, I am Fena Mazam of the Yssa Mountains.” She did her best to smile contritely. “Your pardon, but I could not help but overhear your desire to seek friends abroad. In that regard I believe we may open discussions, if you are amenable.”

Jarah's thoughts were still lost in contemplation of the woman he had just been speaking with, wondering if he had been more harm than help for the realm when Fena appeared before him. He looked over the girl before him noting her plain beige linen dress decorated with fine embroidery but little else. Mentally he reprimanded himself for assuming foreigners would take at least some pride in the brightness or style of their outfits. As she named her homeland Jarah's attention focused as he listened intently and looked into her eyes.

"Fena Mazam, it is a pleasure," he returned her careful bow, "I was not aware the Yssa delegation was here. We are always amenable to discussion of friendship, what is it you wish to discuss?"

Jarah's mannerisms were careful as he tried to evaluate the girl before him. He knew Yssa to be a warrior kingdom not far to the northeast of Gehenna and Zhentanna. The King and many men of strategy who looked out and saw little to fear besides the people of the Yssa Mountains had impressed upon Jaraha the tact which would be needed in dealing with these foreigners in particular. He tried to remain friendly but his posture was noticeably stiffer as he spoke with Fena.



Felipe crossed his arms to his chest, fingers touching shoulders. He closed his eyes for a respectful second. "Prince Jarah of Kinneret and Zhentanna, thank you for answering my request. This event was a welcome opportunity to meet the leaders of the northern and southern coasts. Our islands are closest point of crossing. This presents an opportunity, as well as a risk. I felt it best to meet in person with as many leaders as I could to see how our mutual interests could be served."


"Wise words Tito Nicodemo and welcome ones. The Zhen enjoy meeting and learning from foreign cultures. It is our great pleasure to adventure and explore the world. I suspect many Zhen shall cross your islands to come and if we might turn this to a benefit for us both let us. What did you have in mind?"


Prince Jarah was certainly a man that piqued Vaerin's interest. The thought of determining value not only through coin was something he thought himself familiar with, but he had never sought to think about it in quite that same manner. Thoughts of some of his agents and holdings arose at the thought of value separate from coin. Perhaps his closer advisers even.. His father would have certainly been one. His eyes escaped to the side as he pondered, failing to hide a flattered smile when the foreign prince sized him up. His words were generous, and seemed genuine. Perhaps it was these traits that he saw in the baron that brought him forwards in the first place.

His gaze returned to him, pausing a moment in response to the question as their eyes met. "Your compliments are most kind, Prince Jahar. I admit that I see little value in many of the foreign kings at this event who rule solely on the grounds of inheritance - Not having been tested for all their supposed prosperity. While at first those thoughts echoed similarly towards you based on appearance alone, I now see things in a different light. There is value in wisdom, and in the bravery of being able to approach one such as myself who would more likely be at the walls bearing fire and axes than talking peacefully. I think that the determination of worth in of itself would make one exalted among strategists - To know which pieces go where to put together the grandest of pictures. I'd think you are a man who will take what he has in runs with it, finding that over time your score of bounty has grown from a chest to a vault. But I've known you only a moment, and my judgement may not be complete. I suppose you may have the certain advantage of not having thrown any frivolous parties as a display of wealth and power to the world.. At least to my knowledge." He smiles, sipping at the beverage that was most kindly given to him by the prince.

Just because there were tensions with the host, it seemed that they would hardly prevent the baron from finding a surprising pleasure in discussing with the guests - At least a few of which were far less dry than he originally anticipated.


Jarah smiled in appreciation of the Baron's assessment nodding approvingly as he did so. A soft laugh escaped as Vaerin casually mocked their host's event. He had heard the Selorians were met with some friction by the Suzerain when they had arrived.

"Just not to your knowledge Lord Vaerin," the Prince assured him, "Occasionally one needs to play the part for those who do not understand value though my brothers are superior in such endeavors than myself."

"As you have assessed I do grow chests into vaults, as my predecessors have before me and my successors will after me. You are wise to recognize the value in the wisdom preserved by inheritance. A testing of worth can come in many forms, Lord Vaerin not just in might of arms. We are tested as royals of Zhen to ensure we possess the wisdom either in ourselves or in choosing those who administer our will to continue growing our vaults. We do not wish merely to possess though, no, growing our vaults will be a side effect or our goal. We wish to improve the lives of our people and our friends. We wish to explore that which remains unknown. We seek to discover and develop but we do not wish to do so alone."

"As I have said, I recognize the value of a warrior and you Lord Vaerin prove yourself exceptionally valuable for you possess a mind that thinks as well as an arm that swings," the prince sipped his wine though his eyes remained on Vaerin, "If you are amenable I would like to discuss with you the possibility of a mutually beneficial relationship between our realms."

[Mechalich]

Jarah's thoughts were still lost in contemplation of the woman he had just been speaking with, wondering if he had been more harm than help for the realm when Fena appeared before him. He looked over the girl before him noting her plain beige linen dress decorated with fine embroidery but little else. Mentally he reprimanded himself for assuming foreigners would take at least some pride in the brightness or style of their outfits. As she named her homeland Jarah's attention focused as he listened intently and looked into her eyes.

"Fena Mazam, it is a pleasure," he returned her careful bow, "I was not aware the Yssa delegation was here. We are always amenable to discussion of friendship, what is it you wish to discuss?"

Jarah's mannerisms were careful as he tried to evaluate the girl before him. He knew Yssa to be a warrior kingdom not far to the northeast of Gehenna and Zhentanna. The King and many men of strategy who looked out and saw little to fear besides the people of the Yssa Mountains had impressed upon Jaraha the tact which would be needed in dealing with these foreigners in particular. He tried to remain friendly but his posture was noticeably stiffer as he spoke with Fena.


Fena, focused, saw the change in the Prince’s body language. It would have been hard to miss. Its implications were less clear, these people were so hard to read. Still, she was glad of the change, she had been worried the Prince might try to ply his flirtatious approach with her. That would have been most awkward.

“Yours is an illustrious lineage, of ancient roots and holy blood,” she offered to open. “As such it is natural to seek your friendship. We Amadin are gracious to have such neighbors.” Carefully, mindful of all her father had instructed, she chose her next words quite carefully. “However, nations often find it difficult to rely upon the casual traditions that bind together farmer and herdsman. As such, my father has great hopes that we can utilize the opportunity afforded by this illustrious event to address certain questions of trade, territory, and others as may lie between us.”

“There is no rush of course,” Fena swiftly amended, worried she had pressed to hard. “And this…festive evening is unsuited for such an exchange, but if we could set a time for a formal meeting, privately? Perhaps on the morrow?”

[Legionary]

At first, Vaerin could only help but smile at the remark about being considered thieves, bandits and warlords. He knew full well his reputation among other lands, and sought to see it molded into a reputation of power and ruthlessness - A legacy of kings that were founded only with great effort. Though his natural being told him that she made it out to be something to be ashamed of, his pride told him otherwise. There was a certain spark that came from making something of nothing - And it was a spark his father passed to him. Perhaps it was something that the Duchess of Slavia did not have to know, being where she was among her people.. But she sure knew how to make a proposal.

Following her hand to his chest and feeling the faintest of chills echo through his body, his eyes met hers as she described what was perhaps the most appealing proposal he'd ever received. He could tell it was worded carefully, but he could not deny any of it from being true. His titles were shaky, and perhaps only slightly better than many of the places he himself selected as points of conquest to be made on account of weak kings and those who even he refused to regard as legitimate rulers. He was barely at that line, and it helped not that two of the major gangs were still contrary to his rule. It felt like the only other noise in the room aside from her voice was his heart pumping in his chest at the thought of the opportunity - The honor of being married into the Von Orlok dynasty. Her claim would no doubt boost his to a level in which few even among his own ignorant people could ignore, and in his successes Lady Isabella would share in his rewards.

It came as a minor shock to hear that her people had a host of six thousand. His numbers fell short of even half of that, though his scouts along the southern coast informed him that they had been building up a great while. His plans of conquest were cunning - Perhaps even dishonorable, but that only made each man in his army so much stronger to not be held back by the limits of tradition and chivalry.

He started slowly, his eyes never faltering from her gaze. If he declined no doubt his claims would be seen as less than nothing to the Slavians. Their great armies could make short work of it - Or serve as the cause that finally unites all of the segregated factions of Aerok. But the opposite would be true if he accepted their offer, gaining the respect of those around him whilst prospering in a much greater selection of land and with the army of Slavia ready to back his claims. There would no doubt be drawbacks for either option, and the spark of independence that drove him was begging him not accept.

Naturally, it fell silent when he did.

"I would be most interested in seeing what we might accomplish as mutual allies. My armies will be by your side, prepared to support your claims as yours will mine. I would be quite pleased however to meet with my future wife before I commit fully to the proposal - To see her, and to hopefully get to trust before I let her into my demesne. Together we will yet see our nations' mark on our world." Vaerin made a silent sigh in relief, his cumulative thoughts escaping his lips. "I'll see to it that the prestige of your bloodline is similarly elevated through this deal; This is quite the opportunity for the both of us."

"I am most pleased that you see the merit in our proposal Lord Vaerin, but we Slavians do not do things by half measures. Our outlook is, as they say, binary. When I return to Orlokgrad in two weeks time I will inform my father that either, we stand with the Barony of Seloris or that our neighbors to the north are to be left to their own devices."

"This is a political marriage. A union of blood in which this proposal hinges upon. Without it there will be no pact between our people," tacitly asserts Isabella as a gentle reminder.

"If you desire a partner that you can trust, or that you truly love and connect with on an emotional level, take a mistress. Take two. We do not care," casually suggests Isabella, with no concern for the implications of infidelity with her own sister's potential marriage. "Our only concern is the ratification of our union through a mutual bloodline. This the politics of nobility and it something that you as a newcomer must learn sooner rather than later."

"Besides, if it puts your mind at ease I can assure that my sister is quite fetching. I do understand the caution and curiosity of any red blooded man in this situation, and although I may not be impartial, I do believe you shall not be disappointed. Carmella's passion for the hunt and less lady like pursuits does generally seem to endear her to the more rugged sorts like yourself," states Isabella as she draws on Vaerin's appearance and reputation.

"I know this this decision will weight heavily upon you, but that is the burden of leadership. I will need a definitive commitment or declination to this proposal before my departure tomorrow morning."


Jarah spread his hands wide in feigned apology as the mountain of armor grumbled about decency and respect while dressed for war in the middle of a sea of ambassadors.

"I had thought you capable of offering meaningfulness Lady Isabella but if you insist yourself incapable I shall not argue for I have no desire to anger your cousin further. Sir, I assure you I meant no disrespect towards your cousin or your country. In my lands pleasure of the flesh is as common as I suspect threats and beheadings are in your own line of work. We see no need to hide away our natural desires behind politic and intrigue. Sharing one's bed with a lover and killing one who threatens those you love, these are only natural and nothing to find shame in."

He turned again to Isabella, the smile that had played across his face since their introduction remaining still despite the seeming souring of their conversation.

"Should your father realize it is sometimes important to have friends in distant realms who do not covet their neighbor's lands or agitate to influence their neighbor's court we might speak again. And should you find yourself personally interested in exploring the southern lack of etiquette I shall alert my guards to permit your entrance for the duration of this celebration. I cannot make promises to exclusivity but I can promise discreetness if that is what you desire for northern sensibility."

"Now, if you will permit it I shall take my leave lest my lack of hiding that which need not be hidden offend further. And please remember, if you or your father's mind changes my offer of friendship and trade still stands, at least until the end of the Hunt and I certainly hope beyond."

"Best of luck in your future endeavors," smiles Isabella as Jarah makes his departure. Only when the southern prince is finally out of ear shot does the Slavian noblewoman slowly turn to the armored behemoth at her side. "You will rip the horns from his skull?" repeats Isabella to Letho ass she glares at him through narrowed eyes.

"Your brother would have slain the imputation mutant where he stood," bluntly remarks Letho, not even turning to face his unimpressed cousin. The giant was completely unrepentant for his harsh words to Jarah.

"I know. Which is exactly why Konrad is back in Orlokgrad and father sent you in his stead. Ugh, I need a drink," sighed Isabella in frustration. One the handmaidens behind her squirms uncomfortably upon her mistress mentioning her thirst, and the color slowly drains from the young girl's face.

[DimpleLoamsdown]

"That is good. It would not do for the wweather to tress you too much."

The Senator's smile widen.

"I certainly hope so, Boris of Medved. It would be to the betterment of both our peoples. We already live in a time where there is too much trouble. We must do what we can to ensure we prosper."

"Yes. Yes indeed," Boris said, thinking. "I will aim to improve my nation's relationship with your religion within my life time," he said, still thinking. "I could provide little military support for your people," he finished. "What do you have to offer?"

Maya's eyes widened, as more color entered her cheeks. He eyes meet Mikhail's, sincerity in her voice.

"I.. I-I didn't mean to bring up something that so disconcerts you. M-my sincerest apologies. I am s-sorry to hear that. Mikhail. I hope that one day you will be able to go back."

"Do not worry about me. You seem rather flushed, lets go for walk." With his right hand, he grabbed Maya's left hand. With his right hand, he took two drinks from a servant, who was passing them out. "Breath of fresh air and walk along ocean should be beneficial for you."

[lt_murgen]

"Wise words Tito Nicodemo and welcome ones. The Zhen enjoy meeting and learning from foreign cultures. It is our great pleasure to adventure and explore the world. I suspect many Zhen shall cross your islands to come and if we might turn this to a benefit for us both let us. What did you have in mind?"

"A wise weaver-woman once told me 'The beginning is the most tenuous time. A pulled stitch now warps the sheet at the end.' I believe this is the truth of politics as well. So I would offer a simple, permanent exchange of counselors. On who can speak with expertise, but not authority, on our realms. A person to help each of us better understand the other, so that more formal agreements could be built upon in the future." He spoke earnestly.

"I am a plainspoken man. I hope for fair, competitive trade, safe sailing free from politics and pirates, and to build prosperity for my people through peace. I do not expect that my dreams align to the leaders around me, so I seek first to understand my neighbors, and help them understand me."

[Tentreto]

Her ears perked up at the name, but a pensive look crossed her face.

"I don't believe I've heard of Khada'aldul. I must admit that I am woefully ignorant of the world outside of the peninsula."


"Khada'aldul is a theocratic realm to the east of us, between our lands and Baalbek. It is a civilisation built on castes and physical discipline from what we can understand. They are sometimes a great trading nation for medicine and have members who are incredible in prowess. They would otherwise be beneath the notice of the majority of those not in the south."
Kalus pauses, then continues gravely:
"However, recently, we have noticed a change. The realm of the Godly would seem to be trying to reorganise itself back to its ancient routes, when their pagan ways were more widespread. "
Kalus grimaces sourly: "Although we are not the most pious realm by any means, and should not dictate faith to those well versed, we feel that great chaos and upheaval may come from that land, so I ask a simple thing."
Kalus glances around, at anyone who may be listening in, takes a breath, and proclaims:
"The kingdom of Caligonia asks, not for treatys, nor for anything physical, but the ears of those in these lands. We ask that those who are faithful to the Exalted and to the Church, to be ready in the coming days and years, to be ready for when the Beast, in whatever form it may appear, returns."
Kalus then quietens a little: " As I say, Khada'aldul will probably mean little to both of you, and pray it remain true, but I must say this so that a possible danger is exposed. Better safe than sorry, and thank you for hearing me out. Harbinger, this may not be entirely the politics that you are used to, but thank you anyway."


@Minescratcher, we may have stuff to talk about...

@Anyone, if anyone wishes to investigate in the future the origin of the Calis, Kalus will happily arrange for a copy of the first voyage to be delivered to them.

[lt_murgen]

For Everyone!
At some point in the day's festivities, during a lull between meetings with officials and entertainments, a elderly goblin matron cordially approaches your core delegation. By her mode of dress, it would seem that she's a Shishiyan Destar. She leans heavily on an ornate staff (likely not of goblin make, yet fashioned to her size), and she's flanked by a pair of exceptionally diligent looking goblin pikers. If it were of any interest, one may have noticed her entering the city with the Goblin King's little parade, in her own carriage, apparently regarded generally with honors by her fellows.

Her voice is grandmotherly, strained by age but tempered by it as well, "Beg pardon your Graces. Could you humor this humble one for a moment? This one is Auntie Baoguard, that is to say, Destar Baoguard, and if it please you, I have a riddle which troubles me. It is my hope you have an answer?"

After pausing to allow for pleasantries, introductions, and ascent to tell the riddle she speaks again, (though if outright dismissed she'll likely say it anyway in passing, as a form of goodbye).
Her tone briefly becomes ritualistic, almost as if reciting a familiar incantation, "Is light blessed when it burns, is darkness wicked when it soothes, find the difference between friend and foe, however do we choose? "

Felipe eyed the goblin matron carefully. It was difficult for him. goblins were, for the most part, objects of ridicule and disdain. There were essentially non-existent in the south. Still, it wouldn't do to allow personal feelings to interfere with political affects. After all, she did seem to have some religious trappings. And they didn't offend the church here in its ostensible homeland.

"A most curious riddle, Auntie." Felipe responded, turning the familial name into a formal sounding title. "For people are neither the light nor the dark. Such things just are, their intent lies beyond us. People, however, are creatures of their own intentions."

[BootStrapTommy]

"It is a tragedy of our islands that the crossroads of the world are so lacking in variety, Senator. It is my intention to try to bring as much color and variety to my lands as we can arrange. I would want our neighbors to the north and south to consider Barrio Forasterio a second home."

Turning back to the Suzerain, "That extends to your leadership as well, Suzerain. Diplomatic convoys are welcome to transit our waters on their missions to the southern coasts."The Senator nodded politely.

"I hope you succeed in such a mission, dominus."

The Suzerain nodded as well, his eyes glazing over the Tito Nicodemo carefully.

"I thank you, dominus, for the invitation. Should I have ever need to take advantage of such, I will make sure that those same envoys stop in to give you their gratitude personally. Much obliged."


The amused tone coupled with the genuine intentions put an embarrassed smile on the baron's face. It certainly would have been bold to arrest him at a public event in front of so many others..

"A healthy dose of paranoia has far from hurt my reign. Having a local ally hurts only the man who puts his guard down first - Here's to hoping that your intentions stay pure in the seasons to come. I might tell my men that they are free to act as they please should you allow me to, though I doubt it will aid your people's opinion of mine seeing armed Selorians wandering the streets like stray dogs."

He stopped, straightened his expression a bit, looking as if something were troubling slightly and then continuing on a different note.

"As far as I am aware, there are lands remaining unclaimed by any major powers - Held together loosely by lesser gangs, tribes, and kings with only false titles. I should ask of you.. No; I should warn you as one who seeks to become allies of Seloria, do not cross us in our conquests and we may yet see the rift between our peoples repaired. ..My people finally brought together under a single banner."The Suzerain's eyes searched the bandit prince up and down. His voice was filled with amusement as he replied.

"Aye. I suppose their are enough stray dogs in the streets as it is. As for your concerns, simply do not march your armies where the Legio and Auxlia take residence. That would quite easily solve that issue. So long as you and your nomads steer clear of the lands holiest to the Church, I cannot see us having great issue."


"Yes. Yes indeed," Boris said, thinking. "I will aim to improve my nation's relationship with your religion within my life time," he said, still thinking. "I could provide little military support for your people," he finished. "What do you have to offer?"
"You are currently within a city that knew the footsteps of Ananda. The Estates claims dominion over the lands that surround the great holy city of Shanadeer, and contains within its borders some of the holiest sites in all the Church. Grand Mahangar Ava is a regular guest within the halls of the Curia, while the Church headquarters are but a days travel from here. You befriend the Estate and you befriend the whole Church, dominus."


"Do not worry about me. You seem rather flushed, lets go for walk." With his right hand, he grabbed Maya's left hand. With his right hand, he took two drinks from a servant, who was passing them out. "Breath of fresh air and walk along ocean should be beneficial for you."Maya blushed even more. Maya stood and followed the large outsider as he lead her away, confused by the fact that twice in one day now large, muscly foreigners had so shamelessly sought her attention. Both large humans, at that. What was it with these foreigners and their sudden affection for fox girls? Perhaps they had a thing for foxes in the north?

"I-I suppose that is not a bad idea. I know very little about your people, dominus. Perhaps you could enlighten me?"


"Khada'aldul is a theocratic realm to the east of us, between our lands and Baalbek. It is a civilisation built on castes and physical discipline from what we can understand. They are sometimes a great trading nation for medicine and have members who are incredible in prowess. They would otherwise be beneath the notice of the majority of those not in the south."
Kalus pauses, then continues gravely:
"However, recently, we have noticed a change. The realm of the Godly would seem to be trying to reorganise itself back to its ancient routes, when their pagan ways were more widespread. "
Kalus grimaces sourly: "Although we are not the most pious realm by any means, and should not dictate faith to those well versed, we feel that great chaos and upheaval may come from that land, so I ask a simple thing."
Kalus glances around, at anyone who may be listening in, takes a breath, and proclaims:
"The kingdom of Caligonia asks, not for treatys, nor for anything physical, but the ears of those in these lands. We ask that those who are faithful to the Exalted and to the Church, to be ready in the coming days and years, to be ready for when the Beast, in whatever form it may appear, returns."
Kalus then quietens a little: " As I say, Khada'aldul will probably mean little to both of you, and pray it remain true, but I must say this so that a possible danger is exposed. Better safe than sorry, and thank you for hearing me out. Harbinger, this may not be entirely the politics that you are used to, but thank you anyway."
Maya looked over the Caligonian as he spoke, a curious expression crossing her face.

"I will be sure to keep that in mind, and communicate that to the Suzerain."

[DimpleLoamsdown]

"You are currently within a city that knew the footsteps of Ananda. The Estates claims dominion over the lands that surround the great holy city of Shanadeer, and contains within its borders some of the holiest sites in all the Church. Grand Mahangar Ava is a regular guest within the halls of the Curia, while the Church headquarters are but a days travel from here. You befriend the Estate and you befriend the whole Church, dominus."
"Herm. Yes. How shall I go about befriending you in best way possible?" Boris asked, slightly confused, but still excited at the prospect of all of the worshipers of the Church becoming his allies, whether it be in war, or in trade.

Maya blushed even more. Maya stood and followed the large outsider as he lead her away, confused by the fact that twice in one day now large, muscly foreigners had so shamelessly sought her attention. Both large humans, at that. What was it with these foreigners and their sudden affection for fox girls? Perhaps they had a thing for foxes in the north?

"I-I suppose that is not a bad idea. I know very little about your people, dominus. Perhaps you could enlighten me?"

"There are three races which make up population of where I come from," Mikhail said, "Highmen are natives from south, beyond borders of Mi'vara, nation my father is trying desperately to make peace with for coming years. shortmen, are little men, with long names who typically succeed in politics, although my father beat them during election. If they do not participate in politics, shortmen will either learn to hunt, or try to become rich travelling, or stationary merchants. Strongmen, like me and my family, are tall, and very strong. We spend most of our time training our muscles, eating, or sleeping." Mikhail paused to make sure that Maya understood everything before continuing. "Within Land of Bearmen currently, there remain three Qlans. Originally there were eighteen Qlans, known as 'Eighteen great Qlans of Bearmen'. They eventually split up and some Qlans died out, while others just disappeared. My father believes that they moved east, and he seeks at all costs to reunite them, to create peace once again in Land.

[DoomHat]

As the elderly goblin matron approaches the Slavian delegate, she is abruptly intercepted by Letho and the knights of Slavia. Auntie Baoguard says her piece to the armored behemoth only to be rebuked with a short and sharp reply.

"Choice is the privilege of the strong. You should not need to ponder such concerns, vermin," snarls Letho with open disdain. "Now remove yourself from our presence. You mistake your host's hospitality for that of ours." It seemed that the xenophobic Slavians cared little for the games of the goblin folk.

For a long second Auntie's expression was flat and indifferent, but she couldn't fully contain herself long. Her face twisted in amusement and she threw her hand over her mouth in a belated effort to stifle her spurt of laughter. Though, just as quickly as her composure seemed to unravel she renewed it. She stood strait and stony faced, bowed politely to the Slavian knights and turned to leave. In doing so she surreptitiously surveyed the crowd to see how big an audience she had.

Inevitably, a little goblin Destar approaching to test the famously limited patience of the Slavians had drawn a number of gazes enraptured by morbid curiosity. Baoguard had risen to her position from a Mobar, preaching the word of Ananda and doing community organization from a local temple. As such she'd developed a keen sense of theatrics, and could scarcely bare to pass up a teachable moment. Only three strides away from the knights she dropped her pretense of restraint and guffawed loudly.

If she didn't have the crowd's attention before, she'd likely gained it then.

With conspicuous volume she turned to her bodyguard on the right and said, “Hoho, did you hear him? This fatsome dog who can't remember a hungry day talks to Auntie of 'strength'!? Ha! Mistakes he 'hardness' for 'strength' Auntie suspects. Little knows he that what's hard is also brittle, yeah? If it can not bend, it'll always break. Even dumb little gobs like we know that much.”

The piker snickered lightly in agreement while she turned to the piker on left and continued, “Should we pity him though you think? He really dreams himself free and full of choices when his own fear controls him such he must rally arms and bare his teeth for fear of a little mouse like your Auntie! Hohoho, oh, this wicked age will test us all. It surely will. What do you suppose will become of this untested dog?”

The piker's response was only to make a mockishly exaggerated shrug and specious expression of uncertainty as the three began again to move away.

I'll have the other responses up shortly, I was just excited for this one.

[Legionary]

For a long second Auntie's expression was flat and indifferent, but she couldn't fully contain herself long. Her face twisted in amusement and she threw her hand over her mouth in a belated effort to stifle her spurt of laughter. Though, just as quickly as her composure seemed to unravel she renewed it. She stood strait and stony faced, bowed politely to the Slavian knights and turned to leave. In doing so she surreptitiously surveyed the crowd to see how big an audience she had.

Inevitably, a little goblin Destar approaching to test the famously limited patience of the Slavians had drawn a number of gazes enraptured by morbid curiosity. Baoguard had risen to her position from a Mobar, preaching the word of Ananda and doing community organization from a local temple. As such she'd developed a keen sense of theatrics, and could scarcely bare to pass up a teachable moment. Only three strides away from the knights she dropped her pretense of restraint and guffawed loudly.

If she didn't have the crowd's attention before, she'd likely gained it then.

With conspicuous volume she turned to her bodyguard on the right and said, “Hoho, did you hear him? This fatsome dog who can't remember a hungry day talks to Auntie of 'strength'!? Ha! Mistakes he 'hardness' for 'strength' Auntie suspects. Little knows he that what's hard is also brittle, yeah? If it can not bend, it'll always break. Even dumb little gobs like we know that much.”

The piker snickered lightly in agreement while she turned to the piker on left and continued, “Should we pity him though you think? He really dreams himself free and full of choices when his own fear controls him such he must rally arms and bare his teeth for fear of a little mouse like your Auntie! Hohoho, oh, this wicked age will test us all. It surely will. What do you suppose will become of this untested dog?”

The piker's response was only to make a mockishly exaggerated shrug and specious expression of uncertainty as the three began again to move away.

When it becomes clear that goblin Destar will not linger after her bow, Letho and the Slavian knights turn to rejoin their delegation in their usual eerie silence. However, Auntie Baoguard's charades were far from over. From her deep recline upon a nearby stone bench the unfazed Lady Isabella watches the spectacle unfold with relative indifference. "You can hardly fault the poor confused creature," smiles Isabella to her returning cousin as she curiously observes the attention starved goblin beginning to dance and rave. "It's just it's nature. Too simple to comprehend its inherent inferiority, it regurgitates simple inversions and hollow metaphors as if they were profound wisdom. The weak are strong, the strong are weak. The brave cowardly, the cowardly brave. This is why we keep the serfs illiterate, lest every hapless fool imagines himself a philosopher."

"The Suzerain should have known better," grunts Letho in response, his attention surprisingly not on his heckler but host. "Most of these pretenders should have known better. Ninety-four years since I last crossed Slavia's borders and our neighbors have only gotten worse. I can only fathom the deeps to which they will sink their ancestor's legacies. Never though I would be longing for the days of the Crusader Kings," he growls with bitter reflection on centuries past. It seems that the burning animosity that festers within the armored giants appears to have stirred from a much deeper place then the mere ramblings of an over excited goblin.

"Indeed," aloofly agrees Isabella with her cousin almost as a distracted respite. "It is as if our host was more concerned with the spectacle of amassing some sort of open house zoo, inviting every foreign barbarian and degenerate abomination, than actually having anything of substance to truly discuss with his neighbors. Our fathers with take this as their vindication. The old world is dead," pondered the Slavian noblewoman softly to her kin.

[lt_murgen]

The Senator nodded politely.

"I hope you succeed in such a mission, dominus."

The Suzerain nodded as well, his eyes glazing over the Tito Nicodemo carefully.

"I thank you, dominus, for the invitation. Should I have ever need to take advantage of such, I will make sure that those same envoys stop in to give you their gratitude personally. Much obliged."


Felipe inclined his head slightly, "It is a small thing, really. But safe passage along the seas lie close to the heart of my people. Safe navigation, safe harbors, and safety from piracy. It will be our the lookout's call. Peace and good governance are essential. We sailed along shores of unsettled lands, each community to their own, to reach here. This concerns me."

[Rain Dragon]

Maya's face brightened at the invitation. Her tail picked up speed behind her.

"Yes! I would love some! Thank you, dominus!"

The Xin Len beside Chen scurried away as Chen smiled in response to the excited foreigner. "Would you know a good place to sit and drink?" Chen reached into his coat to retrieve a pouch from his belt. Within was a small bamboo container which he opened and offered to Maya so she could examine the green powder herself if she wished, "This is a sample of our tea. Also, if you don't mind me asking, what does dominus mean? I am not familiar with the word."

Sorry for the long pause between replies :smallredface:

[Zayuz]

Jarah smiled in appreciation of the Baron's assessment nodding approvingly as he did so. A soft laugh escaped as Vaerin casually mocked their host's event. He had heard the Selorians were met with some friction by the Suzerain when they had arrived.

"Just not to your knowledge Lord Vaerin," the Prince assured him, "Occasionally one needs to play the part for those who do not understand value though my brothers are superior in such endeavors than myself."

"As you have assessed I do grow chests into vaults, as my predecessors have before me and my successors will after me. You are wise to recognize the value in the wisdom preserved by inheritance. A testing of worth can come in many forms, Lord Vaerin not just in might of arms. We are tested as royals of Zhen to ensure we possess the wisdom either in ourselves or in choosing those who administer our will to continue growing our vaults. We do not wish merely to possess though, no, growing our vaults will be a side effect or our goal. We wish to improve the lives of our people and our friends. We wish to explore that which remains unknown. We seek to discover and develop but we do not wish to do so alone."

"As I have said, I recognize the value of a warrior and you Lord Vaerin prove yourself exceptionally valuable for you possess a mind that thinks as well as an arm that swings," the prince sipped his wine though his eyes remained on Vaerin, "If you are amenable I would like to discuss with you the possibility of a mutually beneficial relationship between our realms."

He talked like how Vaerin would imagine a poet, spinning words and laying them all out like some piece of art. He was nice to talk to, most unlike many of the more curt people in Seloria. But though all of what he said had merit, it was only truly the last part which got his attention. He didn't even find himself thinking so much less of him for hosting these high-born party type things.

"I'll admit, the Barony of Seloria has few friends.. Though adding to that list would surely do little but help, I can hardly commit my people to any proper alliance considering how little we truly know of eachother. Perhaps we might start with a trade route, collaborate in arms development, support some kind of claim on another's land - Something along those lines. What exactly did you have in mind?"

He gazed at the prince inquisitively, intrigued by the offer - But he would be hard pressed to accept anything large based on their first impressions alone.


"I am most pleased that you see the merit in our proposal Lord Vaerin, but we Slavians do not do things by half measures. Our outlook is, as they say, binary. When I return to Orlokgrad in two weeks time I will inform my father that either, we stand with the Barony of Seloris or that our neighbors to the north are to be left to their own devices."

"This is a political marriage. A union of blood in which this proposal hinges upon. Without it there will be no pact between our people," tacitly asserts Isabella as a gentle reminder.

"If you desire a partner that you can trust, or that you truly love and connect with on an emotional level, take a mistress. Take two. We do not care," casually suggests Isabella, with no concern for the implications of infidelity with her own sister's potential marriage. "Our only concern is the ratification of our union through a mutual bloodline. This the politics of nobility and it something that you as a newcomer must learn sooner rather than later."

"Besides, if it puts your mind at ease I can assure that my sister is quite fetching. I do understand the caution and curiosity of any red blooded man in this situation, and although I may not be impartial, I do believe you shall not be disappointed. Carmella's passion for the hunt and less lady like pursuits does generally seem to endear her to the more rugged sorts like yourself," states Isabella as she draws on Vaerin's appearance and reputation.

"I know this this decision will weight heavily upon you, but that is the burden of leadership. I will need a definitive commitment or declination to this proposal before my departure tomorrow morning."

The offer was generous enough, so much so that it almost seemed criminal for him to ask for a meeting with the daughter. Of course he could have just taken other lovers, but in a case as special as this he wanted to be sure he got off without any hooks. Deals as good as this always had hooks. But ever a man of caution, Vaerin decided that it would be best to bide his time. To think upon it, even though he breathed an internal sigh of relief over the description of Lady Camella. This kind of foreign political situation was far out of the league of his training, and especially at the very start of his reign it was not the kind of thing the he nor his father expected to come about.

But part of being leader was dealing with the unexpected and coming away on the better end of it.

Visibly, he made a small smile. "It gives me no shortage of relief to hear that this offer is hardly as strict as I imagined. For now I think I'll take the offered time to give my mind some space, but I'll have your answer ready by the time you leave for certain." ..And following his pledge, his gaze moved to the balcony before returning to her. He nodded. "Until then; I certainly don't underestimate the gravity of your offer Lady Isabella."

And so with his guards surrounding him he thought for many hours, encountering Prince Jarah before visiting once again before he took his leave in the dead of night.

He was to accept.


The Suzerain's eyes searched the bandit prince up and down. His voice was filled with amusement as he replied.

"Aye. I suppose their are enough stray dogs in the streets as it is. As for your concerns, simply do not march your armies where the Legio and Auxlia take residence. That would quite easily solve that issue. So long as you and your nomads steer clear of the lands holiest to the Church, I cannot see us having great issue."

"Of course - My scouts tell me that your men are to follow the path of least resistance when taking new territory - Namely that of the undefended expanse of hills just east of us. I think it would only be fair in the interest of avoiding conflict to tell you that there will be men there to occupy it. Instead I suggest riding north, where there are fewer Barons and hills in the way of your glory and more men." Unfortunately, his tone did not match that of the amused host. It might even be perceived as a threat if not taken with a grain of salt.

Turning his attention to the food and drink of the event, he decides then to take his leave before things took a turn for the worse. A short nod is his farewell.

"In any case, I appreciate being permitted to enter. I'll keep in mind that those of the Phoenix Demse are more honorable than most Selorians I'm used to - But you might not be able to expect the same from us. It was good to meet you, my rival."

[BootStrapTommy]

Felipe inclined his head slightly, "It is a small thing, really. But safe passage along the seas lie close to the heart of my people. Safe navigation, safe harbors, and safety from piracy. It will be our the lookout's call. Peace and good governance are essential. We sailed along shores of unsettled lands, each community to their own, to reach here. This concerns me."The Suzerain studied her guest for a moment.

"It has been my intention to eventually bring those petty lords that claim the shores to the south to heel. When such becomes the case, you'll need not worry about whether those along the coast be friend or foe. The Estate will see to it that such shores, and all our shores, remain open to you and your guilds."


The Xin Len beside Chen scurried away as Chen smiled in response to the excited foreigner. "Would you know a good place to sit and drink?" Chen reached into his coat to retrieve a pouch from his belt. Within was a small bamboo container which he opened and offered to Maya so she could examine the green powder herself if she wished, "This is a sample of our tea. Also, if you don't mind me asking, what does dominus mean? I am not familiar with the word."

Sorry for the long pause between replies :smallredface:Maya looked at the tea, a smile crossing her face. She took a deep breath.

"It smells fantastic. Dominus is an appellation of respect in the native tongue. Literally it means 'master', but it possesses a much broader use than that, applied to those considered worthy of respect." She looked about the garden for a moment. "There are some benches not far over there. Perhaps we could sit and talk there."


"Of course - My scouts tell me that your men are to follow the path of least resistance when taking new territory - Namely that of the undefended expanse of hills just east of us. I think it would only be fair in the interest of avoiding conflict to tell you that there will be men there to occupy it. Instead I suggest riding north, where there are fewer Barons and hills in the way of your glory and more men." Unfortunately, his tone did not match that of the amused host. It might even be perceived as a threat if not taken with a grain of salt.

Turning his attention to the food and drink of the event, he decides then to take his leave before things took a turn for the worse. A short nod is his farewell.

"In any case, I appreciate being permitted to enter. I'll keep in mind that those of the Phoenix Demse are more honorable than most Selorians I'm used to - But you might not be able to expect the same from us. It was good to meet you, my rival."The Suzerain let out a hearty laugh when the Baron finished speaking.

"I'm beginning to think you may wish to trust your soldiers a bit less, Baron. Shanadeer and the those lands holiest to the Church are to the north. While pretty lords claim dominion over the region, the protection of the great Holy City is at stake. My soldiers have every intention of making such is not the case, before moving south to secure the shores. Should you march where you speak, you're not like to see the Legio."

He bowed toward the Baron as the bandit king made his way to leave.

"Stay well, Lord Vaerin. And stay out of trouble while you remain, if you are so able."

[lt_murgen]

The Suzerain studied her guest for a moment.

"It has been my intention to eventually bring those petty lords that claim the shores to the south to heel. When such becomes the case, you'll need not worry about whether those along the coast be friend or foe. The Estate will see to it that such shores, and all our shores, remain open to you and your guilds."

Felipe raised the glass of wine he had been holding in a toast, "Here's to welcome news. To peace and prosperity under wisdom and forethought. To you, Suzerain." He hoped the action would distract from his lack of enthusiasm over the Suzerain's statement.

[QuintonBeck]

Fena, focused, saw the change in the Prince’s body language. It would have been hard to miss. Its implications were less clear, these people were so hard to read. Still, she was glad of the change, she had been worried the Prince might try to ply his flirtatious approach with her. That would have been most awkward.

“Yours is an illustrious lineage, of ancient roots and holy blood,” she offered to open. “As such it is natural to seek your friendship. We Amadin are gracious to have such neighbors.” Carefully, mindful of all her father had instructed, she chose her next words quite carefully. “However, nations often find it difficult to rely upon the casual traditions that bind together farmer and herdsman. As such, my father has great hopes that we can utilize the opportunity afforded by this illustrious event to address certain questions of trade, territory, and others as may lie between us.”

“There is no rush of course,” Fena swiftly amended, worried she had pressed to hard. “And this…festive evening is unsuited for such an exchange, but if we could set a time for a formal meeting, privately? Perhaps on the morrow?”

Jarah nodded in agreement, “Yes, let us meet tomorrow. The things you speak of demand greater attention and the utility of what maps and treaties I have brought. I regret that no Gehenites are here to discuss these matters with us as well for while I can claim no authority over the lands north of the Ufratu I do claim knowledge that they share interest in the lands between our kingdoms though whether interest military or religious I do not know.”

“Let us meet tomorrow at sundown upon my ship, or another venue if you desire, and we shall discuss what we can of mutual prosperity.”



"A wise weaver-woman once told me 'The beginning is the most tenuous time. A pulled stitch now warps the sheet at the end.' I believe this is the truth of politics as well. So I would offer a simple, permanent exchange of counselors. On who can speak with expertise, but not authority, on our realms. A person to help each of us better understand the other, so that more formal agreements could be built upon in the future." He spoke earnestly.

"I am a plainspoken man. I hope for fair, competitive trade, safe sailing free from politics and pirates, and to build prosperity for my people through peace. I do not expect that my dreams align to the leaders around me, so I seek first to understand my neighbors, and help them understand me."


“The wisdom of the crafters and common people is too often dismissed by those of noble parentage. I agree that understanding shall benefit us both. While I do not have with me any retainers I believe suited for a position as counselor in your lands it shall be my first priority upon returning to Kinneret to find an appropriate representative and send them to your isles. I believe my brother Ilan might serve well in this regard.”

Jarah looked around, examining the others who formed Philipe’s entourage.

“Of course, if you came more prepared I shall happily return home with your chosen representative at the conclusion of our host’s celebration.”



He talked like how Vaerin would imagine a poet, spinning words and laying them all out like some piece of art. He was nice to talk to, most unlike many of the more curt people in Seloria. But though all of what he said had merit, it was only truly the last part which got his attention. He didn't even find himself thinking so much less of him for hosting these high-born party type things.

"I'll admit, the Barony of Seloria has few friends.. Though adding to that list would surely do little but help, I can hardly commit my people to any proper alliance considering how little we truly know of eachother. Perhaps we might start with a trade route, collaborate in arms development, support some kind of claim on another's land - Something along those lines. What exactly did you have in mind?"

He gazed at the prince inquisitively, intrigued by the offer - But he would be hard pressed to accept anything large based on their first impressions alone.


“Trust takes time Lord Vaerin, I would be the last to rush such things. I would not ask any commitment from you now but this; let us support one another in those endeavors that are our specialties. Allow the Zhen to support with full gusto and zeal those territorial claims made by the Selorians and let your kingdom support with its voice the claims to resources and trade claimed by the Zhen. To add weight to this agreement of words I would propose, as you do, an extension of mutual trade. Allow the Zhen to develop a quarter in one of your trade cities and afford us a discounted exchange for your Tikite Spine. In exchange, we shall afford the Selorians their own quarter in Haishal, the capital of my kingdom, as well as a writ granting your people rights to trade in Bhatana as though Zhen yourselves.”

Jarah smiled and held his hands out inviting the baron to accept his offer, “Let us build from these foundations a lasting friendship and alliance, one that shall not only benefit ourselves but our children and theirs as well.”

[lt_murgen]

J“The wisdom of the crafters and common people is too often dismissed by those of noble parentage. I agree that understanding shall benefit us both. While I do not have with me any retainers I believe suited for a position as counselor in your lands it shall be my first priority upon returning to Kinneret to find an appropriate representative and send them to your isles. I believe my brother Ilan might serve well in this regard.”

Jarah looked around, examining the others who formed Philipe’s entourage.

“Of course, if you came more prepared I shall happily return home with your chosen representative at the conclusion of our host’s celebration.”

"When I return home, I shall select someone as quickly as possible. Without knowing which enlightened leaders would accept my offer, I could not choose the appropriate candidates."