Tales of Neutral Ground IC

[3SecondCultist]

Castling

Nyctessa grins and holds up her hands in an obvious 'I surrender' gesture at the intercession. Whether she's picked up the threat that Kett laid down is unclear, but you don't get the impression that the defense attorney one to be rattled so easily by such things in any case.

"Sorry I just assumed based on 98% of the precedents we've had here at Thronehold that your 'valuable person of interest' would be treated the same but then again there are some exceptions. Whatever happens to your friend you should know that I will make sure they're guarded well... but I'm also really excited to meet whoever you send! It's always fun to have new faces at the castle you know so many coming through it's really one of my favourite parts of the job though of course most of them go after a little while."

She lets out a little noise that could be a high pitched giggle, or maybe a hiccup when asked about Jarus' agent. "He's not a man, Arimart..." For the first time in the minute or so since the rest of you have met her, this is the most measured pace the gnome has managed, but the violent twitch in her leg and the growing rose flush around her neck tells you that it's killing her not to speak up more. "But I'm pretty sure you've met him before."

Passing through the walls of the keep and heading towards the Hall of Judgment. The justiciary and administrative wing of Thronehold Castle is as busy as it ever was; busier, in point of fact. On top of the legion of servants and day staff - from clerk to cook, and many more - it's impossible not to notice the additional security here. Beyond the usual Throne Wardens whose silver and green raiment is impossible to miss, you spy no less than two score hardened warriors on patrol. A mix of colours are on display here, with heraldry and banners from all across the Five Nations and beyond. There's even a quartet of hulking warforged keeping watch over the main entrances.

"Ah, you made it," intones a warmly familiar voice. Magistrate Berem Lann rounds the corner of one of the courtyard colonnades, a scribe and two Throne Wardens in tow. The Brelish judge still strikes his rather rounded figure, yet today wears a quilted maroon jacket over a white shirt and khaki coloured trousers, with a single bloodstripe running down the sides of his legs in a surprisingly bold statement where they meet a pair of saddle brown leather riding boots. He carries a matching pair of gloves folded over one hand.

"I just got back myself, had to pay a visit to Ambassador ir'Moran in person." He clears his throat, moving to shake all of your hands in greeting save for Arano and Draci. When he clasps Gryphon's hand in particular, the grip is much harder than it needs to be as he gives the Droaamite khoravar the flintiest of polite smiles. "Thank you for keeping in touch, Sir Kaessel. I apologize for my vagueness over the spell link, but there's still a great deal that we need to sort out.

Before we get to any of that though," Lann says with a look towards your two shackled companions, "we should perhaps deal with processing your prisoners."