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Oh? Do you usually come here for new warriors? With the murmurs and looks I saw upon your arrival. I was convinced this was uncommon, something to worry over.
"It is unusual for a High lord to travel to the imperial capital." Vigot answered, now feeling more comfortable with knowing Adelaide's name "We typically are meant to stay at our post and would send recruiters down south. There have been times when High lords would leave the post for some reason or another. Most of those cases, they were summoned by the emperor or beckoned by one of the other rulers. Save for one. However we don't talk about the Bandit lord with descriptives that would be appropriate for these gatherings." He turned his head to the prince "While looking to refresh our ranks isn't our main goal, I wouldn't pass up a chance. Pila can take a look at the stock you have gathered after the council meeting."

"If there is time, I can go there now, Highlord." The woman sound rather eager "An inspection of the stockades would be rather routine and I can assign any new recruits to be taken back by the Ump brothers. Those three were recruited from here so they would know how to keep them in line."

"The Ump brothers, dear Pila?" Goldbert asked with a mix of curiosity and confusion "Which ones were they?"

"Lump, Dump and...Hump." The shieldmaiden felt uncomfortable as she realized what sort of company she was in. Pila hated saying those names. "Three dumb street rats that I trained into proficient soldiers and taught how to read. Later was harder than the former by an order of magnitude." She spoke more confidence in order to push through the unfortunate naming of those three.

"Your grace and lady Adelaide, I ask to forgive the crude names you may hear for the watchers." Vigot spoke again to cut any banter between the two lieutenants short "Many of them don't have documentation of their names and have resorted to picking new ones for their new life. Some are smart enough to pick a normal name while other let their imagination fly. Even if said imagination is limited."
 
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His avian companion tapped Siert's head, gently. Giving a sidelong glance to Coen, Siert proceeded to turn to Jomier Kelfas. "Sneakingly, it's a dirty word... But do I need to cripple the Banneret through the tourney? If I know where he's staying for today then I could just..." Siert proceeds to put his knuckles side by side then tilts them in opposite directions. "That way, my identity would be secretively secure and I will not suffer competent disability by trying to make it seem innocuous." He leans back in his chair, raising a gauntleted finger to order another serving of rotgut. "Though I also understand if you wish the lion's career to be ended publicly." Coen screeched in a low pitch, one couldn't make out whether that was his talons scraping the metal or the bird's natural tone. Behind the avian yellow eyes, the bird seemed to enamoured with sadism. Who knew animals could be so cruel?

joshuadim joshuadim
 
After the brief words from Lord Uchtred, Oliver and his two advisors remained at their assigned positions. Observing the other houses as they entered and greeted the emperor and his sons. A few words were exchanged here and there by Titus and Maria, mostly on the leaders of each house. Describing each and their history, from what they knew of them, in a way that Oliver could listen in. Oliver was the one that had to know these things. After all, he was the head of House Froste, and Lord of Tarth.

What surprised the two advisors the most was the arrival of the Highlord. And it seemed to be a total surprise to the rest of the houses as well. Was something happening at the wall? Or behind it? Or were they here in need of more recruits than usual? Tarth often had some to send. Mostly bandits that decided to make the forests and ocean-side caverns their homes. And the men and women rotting in prison weren't particularly useful to anyone. It'd be up to both Oliver and Titus to discuss the exchange of Tarthan prisoners to the Highlord and his group, but that would come later. For now, they had far more important matters to attend to.

Later on, however, Oliver was caught by surprise himself by the arrival of Prince Cabrus. A bow was given by the three, as the prince arrived, then he spoke.

"Lord Froste, a pleasure to see you here." he started with a nod, though with a noticeable rigidity in his actions. "Condolences about your loss. It leaves a lot on your plate, I imagine."

"Quite a lot, my lord." responded Oliver, with a faint nod. "But I have my father's advisors to assist me in this endeavor, and I'm sure I shall be able to handle things as well as my father did before me."

Suddenly, however, Oliver found himself being practically dragged away by the Prince. The only warning given was a brief statement given to Titus and Maria. Both of which seemed to dislike the act, but, of course, let it occur without objection. It was a prince after all.

"We just arrived, and they're already trying to rope him into their politics." whispered Titus to Maria, as Cabrus spoke to Oliver nearby. "I forsee the other princes doing the same. And we're stuck on the outside, unable to help him until they're done picking his brain."

Maria glanced to the knight, but her face remained as blank as ever. Well, what one could see of it. "We do what we can, when we can." she said softly.

"I assume you might know *why* I'm talking to you ahead of my brothers, no?"

Oliver looked towards the prince's other brothers, before looking back to Cabrus. "...Not entirely, but..." he stated, before glancing to the Emperor himself. "...If I had to venture a guess, it's in regards to your father and the future of the throne."

The princes were already testing the waters. Talking to the lords, seeing who was a viable candidate to back their claims to the throne once the emperor finally died. And Cabrus had chosen to push for Tarth's support before the others. The concept of these men sneaking around behind their father, basically planning a future war between themselves while he sat on the verge of dying...it all disgusted Oliver. He'd never let it show, though. Not in front of these people.
 
The Golden Talon Tavern
Worthlessplebian Worthlessplebian

Jomier tilted his head ever so slightly as Siert gave a question and a concern with regards to the course of action he was hired to take. Whether or not he could simply do it outside the tournament was a matter that Jomier shook his head towards: “I wish for it to be public. The humiliation won’t rest on the Silver Lion’s laurels alone.” Jomier explained, making it clear his position on the matter. “But if it is your identity that is of concern… you needn’t worry. I can have the roster put you under a pseudonym if you desire. Nobody would really bat an eye, considering *who* would be sponsoring your entry.” He tapped the table as Amarok stood up and left, with Jomier’s eyes trailing to follow the Wulpine as he exited the establishment.

“I suppose he’s off to deal with ‘The Iron Wall’. So you can get yourself rested for now, you’ll need it for tomorrow.” Jomier then said as he leaned back into his seat, “Unless, you want to help him with his job. I don’t care, so long as you don’t get yourself too hurt.”



The Imperial Palace

Emperor Verus Interaction: Emperor Sagan Emperor Sagan
The Emperor spared the Lady Valentova a wavering smile, before letting out a tired sigh; "That is good to hear. Prosperity is a much desired trait in the realms, and one that must be kept." Verus spoke to Annaliese, "And may-" He was suddenly cut off by a few coughs, as he struggled to get the air for his words. Ser Eren quickly rushed to the Emperor's side and delivered a small wooden cup for him to drink from that, Annaliese could glance from, was a milky yellow liquid that smelled earthy. The Emperor quickly downed the drink as to not inconvenience the situation further and let out a few gasps as he held onto the Lord Commander of the Redgaurd's arm for aid. "My... my apologies." he managed to get out for Annaliese.

"Your grace, we should get you back-" Ser Eren began to say out of worry but was quickly silenced by a glare from the Emperor.

"I will *not* be so rude as to not greet my guests." Verus shot back through clenched teeth, but he quickly recomposed himself as he straightened himself onto his own two feet and gave a nod to Annaliese and her court as a dismissal for the time being. By this point, another chariot had arrived to bring Lord Volksha-Karelic all by her lonesome as she carried her own banner proudly to greet the emperor. As the Emperor turned his attention to the new house on arrival, Annaleise was nonetheless accosted by whispers from the more superstitious folk from the Hinterlands that had gathered already.

"Even standing in her presence made the Emperor falter... witchcraft I say..." she could make out one whisper, but from whom it was hard to tell. The only one who remained silent was Lord Harkren as she watched Annaliese and her fellows take their positions. But she was not content to stay silent as she approached the woman and looked through a steely gaze for a moment before speaking: "You needn't worry. I don't believe in fairy tales like the others." she stated directly, getting the ice broken between the two of them. "Though I can tell by looks alone you have some... ambition."

Lord Harkren motioned to Valentova's 'crown' and her ornate carriage, among other details that stood out to her; "So tell me, what do you think of Verus?" she asked, probing into the mindset of one of her peers from their shared region.

---

Prince Davin Interactions: Breadman Breadman GrieveWriter GrieveWriter Vexumin Vexumin

Prince Davin was bound to give a response, but his father's sudden episode as he spoke with Lady Valentova caused him to spin about quickly as he turned to intervene. However, Ser Eren got there first, which made the young man relax as he let out a sigh of relief. "I apologize, my father is in ailing health... every time it makes me worry." Davin spoke as he turned back to both of whom he spoke to, directed mostly to the Highlord of Rainor's Wall. "Sometimes, I wonder if it's only just me that gives a damn among my siblings." he muttered before shaking his head. "Regardless, I won't keep you all much longer. And... Pila, was it? After we deal with the formalities here, I can lead you to our stockades." he said before giving a bow and heading off.

His next target of conversation was Lord Bralmeyer, who had already been accosted very publicly by Landon, and so Davin took a more subtle approach as he approached both Damik and Kyraug. "Apologies for my brother's behavior." he spoke to the two."Boisterous and loud as he is, he also never learned proper manners. Nor respect," Davin said as he shot a glance towards his eldest brother, who was now seemingly harassing Lord von Holt before grunting, "going around the way he does. Between you and me, he is not fit to rule. Wouldn't you agree?"

---

Prince Landon Interaction: K0mori K0mori

Landon remained quiet for a moment as Lazarus' joke seemed to not land, but the man let out a boisterous laugh deep from his belly soon after to break the awkward silence. "Walked right into that one didn't I?" he said with a grin before laughing again, "Aha... ha. Well, that is good to hear. Indeed... though, I can't help but still worry as any good Emperor should." Landon turned his gaze to Rutu for a moment, his expression darkening quickly. "You never know when errant subjects will become unruly again." His demeanour then quickly changed back as his attention returned to Lazarus, bringing back a grin that plastered his visage. "But of course, the offer still stands for the future. Ready and able, the Empire will retain its possessions."

He then returned again to Rutu, his joviality turning once more to ire as he approached the Glyrran woman to observe. "So tell me... what do you do for your lord?" he asked, questioning whether she had arrived to her station through merit or by sheer luck.

---

Prince Cabrus Interaction: Infab Infab
"Indeed. You're quite perceptive." Prince Cabrus replied quickly back to Oliver, as he shot another glance towards his brothers as they went about conversing with the other lords before huddling in with Oliver. "And so, I ask you this: would you shelter me if things deteriorated?" he asked, practically pleading with the young Lord Froste. "My brothers... they will kill me the moment my father passes, I know this. They will then kill each other just as quickly. I must find refuge elsewhere, please, PLEASE."

He took a moment to gulp down his anxiety as he shivered, "Landon is a cruel, amoral drunk who does as he pleases. Davin... he tortures men in the city stockades. And Maril? He's a simpleton. A violent oaf who smashes things. They all have it out for me. And don't even get me *started* on 'Prince' Lodric. My cousin might have a tenuous claim, but it's his grandfather that controls that ship. It would be the rule of Lord Leon... the Empire can't have a weak ruler like Lodric controlled by his family."

Cabrus stared straight into Oliver's eyes as he waited a response, with sweat having formed on his brow already from the fear that plastered his words and his mind. Wordlessly, he was begging 'Please.' repeatedly, trying to bring an assurance of his own safety from Oliver.
 
Kyraug and Damik had been concluding a bit of chatter between themselves as the Prince made his approach. The content of the conversation seemed to involve Kyraug's placement in the tournament being held. The Vadyeen didn't seem to have any particular feelings about the matter. Just another order to follow through with.

"I shall get as far as I can with the tournament. However, I am forbidden from dying, per the orders of your father. If I feel my life is on the line, I shall forfeit."

Damik frowns at the Vadyeen.

"Do you always speak about yourself and your life in such a way? 'I am forbidden from dying, per the orders of--' why do you do that?"

"Master, I am a servant through and through of House Bralmeyer. If you asked me to die for you, it would be my one and only mission."

"So grim, Kyra."

"Just so, Master. The life of a servant is grim, but necessary for the lords and ladies of the em--"

Kyraug falls silent at the approach of the prince. His eyes had been on Davin the whole time, but only when the prince had drawn near and he was sure of his intent to engage with his lord did he cease talking. Immediately his master took the hint, offering a smile to Kyraug before he turns to greet Prince Davin. Kyraug on the other hand lowered himself into a deep bow.

"Ah, my prince. I am honored that you have decided to take the time meet with me, truly."

"Apologies for my brother's behavior." he spoke to the two."Boisterous and loud as he is, he also never learned proper manners. Nor respect,"

"There is no need for apologies, my prince. I understand that he is eager to make an impression. However, I am afraid that I have felt that I was taken advantage of. It has only been a short while since I have assumed the duties of my father. His... familiarity caught me off guard."

"going around the way he does. Between you and me, he is not fit to rule. Wouldn't you agree?"

Here comes the part of the conversation where the prince vies to sway the opinion of the empires noble houses. Thankfully, Damik was prepared this time around. He took only a moment to consider his words before speaking them.

"Prince Landon certainly seems to engage in a very direct approach in regard to the houses. Some may call it ill-fitting for a prince working towards becoming emperor. I have been taught, however, that a mans mettle extends far beyond the way they carry themselves in a social setting. An emperor needs to be strong, and Landon carries himself well enough."

Damik looks away from Prince Landon, looking once again to Prince Davin.

"The promise of support in the form of soldiers has been made by Prince Landon. However, he ignored the fact that House Bralmeyer is strong. The people in our lands are made of 'tougher stuff', if you will. Our army is never wanting for new soldiers or those of greater skill. I'd wager that our army is one of the greatest found in the land. House Bralmeyer thrives, and the purpose of our visit is to demonstrate as much."

Damik offers the prince a smile. He had to be solid in his stance here while also maintaining a respectful demeanor. The princes had to know this of House Bralmeyer.

"In regard to Prince Landon, I have yet to fully see if he is unfit to rule. The secondary goal of my house is to observe. To determine who would lead the empire to greater heights. However, no matter who earns the throne, my house shall stand as tall and as proud as ever."



Interacting with: Prince Davin ( joshuadim joshuadim )
 
Just as Oliver thought, it was regarding the looming period of succession. But what Cabrus was now asking of Oliver was completely unexpected. A prince intended to seek shelter in Tarth should a war of succession come to fruition. Oliver stared back at Cabrus, several thoughts now flooding through his mind. He couldn't say no, and doom this man before him to his demise by the hands of his brothers (if they actually did seek to kill him.) But saying yes would paint both himself, his subjects, and Tarth itself as targets of any campaigns by the prince's brothers and their supporters. War would be brought to Tarth's doorstep, and the Stormlands would become a battlefield.

"M-My lord, what you ask of me..." started Oliver, trying to find the right words to say. He glanced back to Titus quickly, silently wishing he had dragged him over into the conversation.

Titus noticed the glance, the knight eyes darting between the pair beneath his helmet. What did he say to him? Whatever it was, it wasn't good. He himself glanced to Maria, whom was also looking between the two. She didn't look happy, but when did she ever?

Eventually, Oliver looked back to Cabrus. He took a breath, before finally speaking again. He couldn't say no. "...You will be safe in Tarth, my lord, when the time comes." he said, "You need not worry."
 
He then returned again to Rutu, his joviality turning once more to ire as he approached the Glyrran woman to observe. "So tell me... what do you do for your lord?" he asked, questioning whether she had arrived to her station through merit or by sheer luck.

Rutu was caught off guard by the Prince's question, as she was expecting his and Lazarus' conversation to continue. Instead, her Lord had merely nodded and thanked Landon for his assurances, and she now found herself center stage. She cast a subtle glance to Lazarus, who gave her a smirk. I don't recall granting you dignity in the midst of your fraud.

"My lord consults me as I hear the voice of spirits upon the wind," she replied in soft, almost ghostly tone. "Ages pass, empires rise and fall, and all that grows and blossoms in the light of day returns to dust by night. The dead bear witness to our actions and judge us, speaking in tongues lost to all but a few; they tell us of our past, and of our future." Rutu had ceased looking Landon in the eye as she looked skyward, her arms outstretched in a plaintive gesture. "The glyrran people once knew the voice of their elders like an old song, so that in their lifetimes they might prepare themselves to sing in their sacred, harmonious chorus."

She lowered her eyes to meet Landon's bewildered gaze, and allowed her arms to fall to her sides in an expression of defeat and sorrow. "They have forgotten the sound, sir, and created a discordant racket that offends the sprits. The disaster which has befallen them will continue to vex and enflame their foolishness until they can be reminded of the old ways. Since none of them have the blessings of their ancestors, they have chosen Lord von Holt to return the land to peace. I do not question their wisdom, and serve them by bending the ear of my brothers and sisters, whether through talk, or through ritual, to hear their song once more."

Lazarus nearly wanted to clap, he was so amused, but instead he waited to see the Prince's reaction. Perhaps the "next emperor" would be dumb enough to fall for her performance.
 
Lady Valentova watched the Emperor devolve into a coughing fit with a neutral, if not pitiable expression, her hands cupped politely before herself. She knew Verus was sick and not long for this world. Indeed, she had even thought the messenger was bringing news of his passing, not an invitation to a grand tournament. But standing before him now... she only hoped he wasn't contagious, whatever it was. She had not an ounce of care for the dying Emperor. He was a stranger to her, on a lofty if not stressful throne. Gods knew how many people were whispering about whose fat bottom was to claim the throne next, and how many of those were already plotting to make it a reality. She had already caught a glimpse of the princes fluttering around like lost little birds to their respective destinations. Only time would tell if the berries they ate were poisoned or sweet. Perhaps they would be both.

She smiled and curtsied again when the Emperor apologized and bade her a polite dismissal. She felt like she needed a wash after standing so close to that sick, dying old man. Age was a cruel thing, that was certain, but she had seen older and more spry crones back home. Old ladies and men that looked like skeletons with wispy hair still hunched over their cooking pots, or walking home on muddy lanes with a bow over one shoulder and a rabbit over the other. It was unsurprising - the people here in the capital were soft. At the very least, they were rich.

"Even standing in her presence made the Emperor falter... witchcraft I say..." she could make out one whisper, but from whom it was hard to tell.

The words drifted by as Valentova retreated with her retinue to an open place out of the way amongst all the other parties. Her cheek quivered as a smile threatened to form, and she had to cup her chin as if she was in a state of contemplation to keep one from breaking out. Oh, to have the power to make people wither before her with just a fair gaze. If she could do such a thing, there were more than a few people here who would already be ash by now. Indeed - one was already approaching her as they stared each other down. Lord Harkren.

"Fairy tales?" she echoed. "Why, I don't have any idea what you could mean." Valentova smirked, content enough for the moment she wasn't actively laughing. Her reputation was more strength than not. Every time her name was whispered, or her ancestors were featured in a scary story, or her very existence entered into the minds of her commoners and aristocrats was just another moment of reinforcing her power over them. It was intoxicating to think about, let alone fantasize over.

She raised an inquisitive brow at Harkren's pointed question on her opinion of the Emperor. Certainly not a question anyone would publicly answer truthfully, lest they be a fool. "Despite having only met him once today, I am certain the Emperor is a wonderful man," Valentova said with a glass smile. "Such a shame his... ailments seem so dire. And even more shameful that there are so few who can take on the responsibility of the throne after his passing. Good luck to them, I suppose."
 
The Imperial Palace

Lord Harkren Interaction: Emperor Sagan Emperor Sagan

"I've heard the stories. Though I'm not superstitious to believe them. Still... a powerful image you've cultivated." Lord Harkren replied as she observed Valentova for a moment, taking into consideration her words and their potential meaning when she gave her thoughts on the Emperor. "Indeed he is. Few could have ever possibly managed his brother's foolishness as well as he could have. But even so, it wasn't enough." Florina replied as he glanced over to the Emperor, who was in the business of greeting the other Houses. Valentova could see, for but a brief moment, Harkren's stoic mask fade as a pang of sadness hit her before she returned her attention to Valentova. "And that is not to mention, the mess that will come after him."

She leaned in closer to Valentova as to keep the words between them: "Between his sons, all of whom are not good choices for succession, as well as Lord Leon pushing his grandson like an abused mule... it will be war. The question is where we would fall in it, no?" Lord Harkren asked, "Surely you must have given it at least some thought as to who you would support?" The Lord was probing to see where Annaliese stood on the matter, but for what purpose the Lady Valentova could not tell at this moment...

---

Prince Davin Interaction: Vexumin Vexumin
"Indeed." Prince Davin responded to Damik's recount of Landon's promise of troops, "He believes himself to be only capable of fixing things, rather than trusting others to do so. An Emperor cannot do everything by himself, hence why the Imperial Council exists... and the Lordships." He gave a snort then to Damik's rather noncommittal approach to the whole situation: "You'll see why when he starts drinking and engorging himself on whores and food come the tournament." Davin replied bluntly, rather annoyed by Damik's attitude to the situation. "The future of the Empire is at stake. My brothers prepare to rip my father's legacy apart because of their egos and faults."

He then turned to leave, but gave Damik a final word of advice: "Inaction is the same as taking a side. My brothers will see it as this and march on you. An army will not keep you safe, no matter how hardy they might be." he said, giving a stark warning to the young lord before leaving to speak to some of the newer arrivals.

---

Prince Cabrus Interaction: Infab Infab
"Oh, thank you! Thank you Lord Froste! I will repay you however I can." Cabrus spoke with relief that washed over his visage, "I know not how at this time, but House Brentor always keeps its word. I swear to this by the Five." He then looked back again towards where his brothers were, all of whom were speaking to the others and grimaced: "Even now they plot to kill me... my time to leave here will likely be soon." he continued in a hushed tone, before looking back to Oliver who was silent by now. "Do not worry, I will try to garner more support... you will *not* be alone." he reassured the young Lord as he gave him a reassuring pat on the back and quickly left to continue his work elsewhere, leaving Oliver by himself at last to ruminate on what had just transpired.

---

Prince Landon Interaction: K0mori K0mori
Landon was quiet for a moment when Rutu finished, with an awkward pause between the two creating an air of unease. His reaction was not clear as to what she had said in the moment, which made it all the more uneasy and uncomfortable. This broke however when the Prince began to laugh as he grabbed his belly and arched backwards in a haughty manner. "Aha, ahaha! By the Five! That's absolutely hilarious!" he practically hollered as he wiped tears from his eyes, "Gods... Glyrran spirituality... what a grand joke!" He then turned his attention to Lazarus and grinned: "I see why you keep her around. A great source of comedy is always needed! Almost like a jester or a court fool."

He let out another laugh as he couldn't contain himself before wiping away another tear from his eyes. "Oho, aha... in any case... I will not keep you occupied for much longer Lord von Holt... duty calls for me, aha." Landon spoke, "Thank you for the entertainment, truly."

And with that, he left both Rutu and Lazarus by their own as he approached some of the other Houses he had yet to speak to.

---

Prince Maril Interaction: Count of This and That Count of This and That
Marius by this point had been unaccosted as the Princes focused on many of the greater houses of other Imperial regions, leaving him to watch and observe for the time being as events unfolded. With a keen eye he was able to see Prince Cabrus walk away in noticeably higher spirits from the new Lord Froste, while Davin and Landon walked about speaking with the Lords from their respectively populated non-human regions. The bridges being built and the web being spun meant alliances were starting to be formed or, in some instances, rebutted. But still, it was important to keep an eye on things in such a tenuous and fluid situation; but he was then snapped out of his thoughts on approach by Prince Maril, the youngest of the brothers, as he made a dignified approach to the Lord Lynnmare.

"My brothers might not care much about loyalty, and myself not as quick as they are, but I'm not that stupid to overlook it." Maril began to say as he observed Marius. "Your family has stayed loyal, and yet you were still spurned. Loyalty begets position, which is what I would offer you for support." he then said, making his offer clear cut. "Support my claim, and when I'm Emperor, you will be on the Imperial Council like your grandfather was."

---

House Kragh Interaction:
Breadman Breadman ( GrieveWriter GrieveWriter ; nearby)​

Uchtred and the rest of his house had, by this point, been on the sidelines as the Princes went about collecting their support. The old bear could only look with barely held back disgust as the sons of Verus went about preparing to claw away at their pieces of the Imperial pie, while his grandchildren could only watch with what limited understanding they had of their imperial politics. "Gods, they're all like wolves." Uchtred commented as his gaze darted between Davin, Landon and Cabrus, the latter of which had caught his attention as it seemed he roped in Oliver into a scheme against his will. Ser Harald shook his head as well: "T'is shameful indeed. Can't wait to get out of this city myself."

But his squire looked at the man-at-arms with surprise at this statement: "Ser, didn't you say you would peruse the brothels on our way over here for our stay?" Jomier asked, bringing out stifled laughs from Riseig, Reimar, Enya and Calder much to the seasoned warrior's gripe. He delivered a small slap to the back of his squire's head to shut him up, but in turn received a glare from Uchtred. "Sorry my lord."

"Don't be sorry. Be better. We are in front of the rest of the Empire." the old bear replied, bringing an assertive nod from Harald. But that was not the end of House Kragh's doings as Reimar watched the Highlord of the Wall speak with a Satyr woman and Prince Davin. He had been intent on speaking, but waited for the Prince's leave before Reimar broke away from his group. "Reimar! Get back!" Uchtred spoke before groaning and followed suit, "All of you stay put, please."

Reimar in the meantime had stormed over to where Vigot and Adelaide were as he gave a bow. "Highlord. I wish to-" he began to say but was quickly cut off by Uchtred's approach as he gave a smile from under his beard. "Highlord Vigot, it's been some time since we last saw one another. My grandson is eager to make himself known, it seems." Uchtred spoke to the lord of Rainor's Wall before giving a quick bow to Adelaide to acknowledge her presence. Reimar then spoke up again, annoyed by his grandfather's interference: "I wish to go to the Wall!"

"Oh by the old gods..." Uchtred whispered as he closed his eyes from exasperation.

"I... I know I'm a bastard. I hold my family's name, but still it is not enough to simply stand by. I need to do something." Reimar quickly added, the words aimed mostly towards his grandfather.

"Reimar, is this because of what the Emperor said to you? Bastard or not, you are still-"

"Your grandson. And that's it."

Uchtred was quiet for a moment as he looked at his grandson's determination and anger, realizing what he was up against. He didn't want to start a spat with his grandchild, especially in front of such distinguished people, as he turned to Vigot and shrugged. "What do you make of this then, Highlord?"
 
Damik stood tall despite the position he decided to take about the matter of succession. He stood behind his decision one hundred percent. He had to observe while he could. When the time came, he would take a side, but not yet.

It was still too soon.

He must measure the extent of each princes character. It was now his duty as a lord of the empire. If he just threw his lot in with any prince in order to feel safe, he would have failed that duty. He would have failed his legacy. One of strength and certainly in the presence of a worthy emperor. He could still recall the stories his father told him of Emperor Verus.

The Beast of House Bralmeyer was a staunch servant to him because Verus was found worthy.

He gave a snort then to Damik's rather noncommittal approach to the whole situation: "You'll see why when he starts drinking and engorging himself on whores and food come the tournament." Davin replied bluntly, rather annoyed by Damik's attitude to the situation. "The future of the Empire is at stake. My brothers prepare to rip my father's legacy apart because of their egos and faults."

Damik puffed out his chest and squared his shoulders.

"Let Prince Landon engage in such proclivities. Once he deigns to do so, he shall be unworthy of my support, if he cannot control himself in such a sensitive time such as this. I watch for the strength needed to rule."

He then turned to leave, but gave Damik a final word of advice: "Inaction is the same as taking a side. My brothers will see it as this and march on you. An army will not keep you safe, no matter how hardy they might be." he said, giving a stark warning to the young lord

"Careful consideration is far from inaction, my prince," Damik called out to Davin as he began to depart. "And make no mistake. A lord of House Bralmeyer does not hide behind their armies. Should I be marched upon for my choice in the coming days, I shall be found on the front lines. Not sniveling in my estates like a coward."

Damik sent Davin off with a bow of respect and a smile, despite his bold words. When he rose, it was only to watch Davin make the rest of his journey. Something had changed then. He was not nervous to announce what he had. His heart did not pound with dreaded uncertainty. No, he was ominously sure of his words.

Perhaps there was a bit of his father in him after all.

He turns to face Kyraug only to be met with a grin. The grin was only there for a brief moment before it vanished. Damik smiled at his servant.

"Well? Would you say I did the great Lord Hallem proud?"

"I could not say for sure, master. I do know he would be smiling to see you stand as tall as you are now. However, please be cautious, master. It would not be wise to antagonize any of the princes."

"You're right. Perhaps I was too in my own head there. Live and learn, I suppose. And if what the prince said comes to pass, then I suppose I'll try to live and learn my way to survival should an attack happen upon my house. Doubtful I'd succeed against the full might of the empire, but who knows?"



Interacting with: Prince Davin ( joshuadim joshuadim )
 
"Aha, ahaha! By the Five! That's absolutely hilarious!" he practically hollered as he wiped tears from his eyes, "Gods... Glyrran spirituality... what a grand joke!"

It stung. Even knowing that the prince had fallen completely for Rutu's sanctimonious, rambling lamentations about her people and the hypothetical opinion of their dead ancestors, it stung to hear him speak so assuredly of their heathen ways from his position of ignorant yet empowered aristocracy. The crestfallen look upon her face wasn't quite an act as he turned away, but quickly she reminded herself that she had done exactly what she was supposed to, and put this man at a disadvantage against her Lord. Lazarus was not a kind man, nor a friend to the glyrrans, but he was at least an intelligent man who knew what she was capable of.

"I see why you keep her around. A great source of comedy is always needed! Almost like a jester or a court fool."

Lazarus gave a sly smile which seemed to pierce through his audience, right back to Rutu where she stood, his way of telling her that he was satisfied, before his focus shifted back to Prince Landon. "It may be comedy to you and me, but within her mewling is a thread of wisdom that the common catfolk find appealing. To be ignorant of their ways is to invite disaster. Of course, you must already know that," Lazarus reassured him with a chuckle, as if the conversation were below men of such station.

He let out another laugh as he couldn't contain himself before wiping away another tear from his eyes. "Oho, aha... in any case... I will not keep you occupied for much longer Lord von Holt... duty calls for me, aha." Landon spoke, "Thank you for the entertainment, truly."

"You are quite welcome, sir," Lazarus replied with a slight bow, inviting the man to move on.

Once the prince was out of earshot, Dominik moved and stood between Lazarus and Rutu and looked to the former. "You're toying with him, sir," he said flatly. Rutu was thankful that he recognized it as well, as she was curious what the Lord's intentions were.

Lazarus gave a smug, quiet laugh, and clapped his guard captain on the shoulder. "Landon is not Emperor yet, but he is already trying to exert his strength on the provinces. Tell me, what good would a floodtide of imperial soldiers do in the Redlands? For me, specifically, I mean."

Dominik answered without hesitation. "It would free you to dismiss some of the mercenaries that are draining our finances."

"Ah, so we would replace those men who look to me for their orders, coin, and supply, with men whose loyalties lie with his seat, whose training and equipment come from abroad, and whose coin would somehow trickle down from the barren imperial coffers? My, how could we justify that, unless the same taxes we collect for our own defense were deferred to the Empire's taxmen? Perhaps such an alliance would endear me to Landon, but I would be his puppet, Dominik."

Dominik's eyebrows rose. "I did not consider that, sir."

"That's only natural- I pay you to guard my life, not to negotiate on my behalf. But be prepared to witness these sorts of exchanges, going forward. They want our loyalty and our friendship, but it will always come with strings attached. Thanks to Rutu, we have exposed the depths of Landon's experience with the glyrrans, which is to say, he has none. If he should try to position himself as a better administrator in our affairs than I, then I will use Rutu to humiliate him further."

Dominik nodded, amazed at the turnabout. He glanced back at Rutu, who eyed him tiredly, and gave her a bit of a grin. She wondered if there was a hint of admiration in his eyes as he turned away, and the group began to move toward the keep.
 
She leaned in closer to Valentova as to keep the words between them: "Between his sons, all of whom are not good choices for succession, as well as Lord Leon pushing his grandson like an abused mule... it will be war. The question is where we would fall in it, no?" Lord Harkren asked, "Surely you must have given it at least some thought as to who you would support?" The Lord was probing to see where Annaliese stood on the matter, but for what purpose the Lady Valentova could not tell at this moment...

"Where we fall on the matter?" Valentova echoed, one hand on her chest in a coy manner as she reigned back a sneer. "I know not where we fall, Lord Harkren, but I stand where I always stood - with Vallach. I care little for princes unless they're on their knees before me and-"

A slight clearing of the throat interrupted Lady Valentova as her chamberlain, Rudolf Friar, stepped up beside her. "We are, of course, committed to peace in the Hinterlands during the unfortunate possibility of open warfare within our Empire," he said in a measured manner, an amicable smile wrought upon his typically tired face. He gently brushed one hand against Valentova's shoulder as she straightened up with a pout and, ultimately, nodded along with the words of her advisor. "Our... centrality... is conducive to ensuring mutual cooperation between the lowland realms. Should all our armies go marching off to fight some princely war elsewhere, that leaves little for the common defense of the Hinterlands as a whole, would it not?" Ser Friar said.

Such a position had long been the policy of the relatively isolationist domain of Vallach, headed by House Valentova since ancient times. In some ways it was a calculated maneuver, and in others a mere happenstance, but Valentova knew her ancestors had seen the value in creating an inseparable tie between their lineage and the lands they ruled. Rather than cast their eyes over expeditious conquests of distant - or even near - lands, the moors and dark forests of Vallach had taken the form of a well. They gave life to the locality, and without it, the commons and aristocracy would shrivel and die. And only supreme lunatics willingly poisoned or turned away from their own well.

A burst of laughter caught Valentova's attention as she glanced, curiously, aside at the distant visage of Prince Landon gathered among the von Holts. "Someone's mirthful today," she muttered with some distaste. It was little secret her disdain for others generally increased the further they lived from her domain, though in the moment, she narrowed her cold eyes on the Glyrran catfolk that seemed to be the target of the amusement. There were practically no such people in Vallach. There were satyrs and wolfmen aplenty, but of the distant cat people, she had seen precious little. The previous war likely had something to do with that, she mused. But unlike the petty houses and common lowland people, the catfolk were removed enough that she found more than a small degree of interest in their alien countenance. Perhaps this journey outside of her lands would be an educational experience.

Valentova twirled her parasol as she turned her attention back to Lord Harkren. "Regardless... what even brings you to me, Harkren?" she asked bluntly, staring up at the much elder figure. "You keep to your side of the mountains and I keep to mine. Is this lowland air making you as mirthful as that flea off yonder laughing like a buffoon?" Whichever prince had been chatting up the von Holts was, she judged in that moment without even knowing their name, the most foolish. Granted, the one that was skittering around the Froste's didn't seem much better, nor the one that was somewhere around the Bralmeyer clan. If the Imperial throne didn't put such a target upon one's head, she would have put herself or even her brother forwards in jest. But even that was not wise here of all places. As far as she was concerned, there was little of interest here except the treasury and some colorful - and perhaps useful - people.
 
Vigot eyed the young man from head to toe and couldn't help but feel a sense of nostalgia as he remembered his own volition and vigor to join the guards at the wall. There were so many things he wanted to tell the lad. He was a bastard sure, but so were many stationed there. In fact many of the best were bastards of the highborn. But there were still many things to consider before the journey there should begin.

"Aye, its good to see you lord Uchtred." The highlord finally spoke. Although the pleasantries were not something the aging lord wanted right now. "I would be lying if I say I wouldn't welcome your grandson on top of the wall. Or that he doesn't remind me of my own journey there." He motioned to Pila to come forward "But to make a better judgement I'll need to know where the boy stands on a few things." He turned his head to his lieutenant "Describe what you do the lordlings that come to us, Shieldmaiden."

"Am I allowed to speak freely?" Vigot nodded and Pila looked at the lord's grandson. Like Vigot, she inspected him head to toe and frowned. She stepped closer to get a closer look at his face. Her eyes trailed off to his composure and tried to track his body language. Her hand moved to her chin as she started to think. "He's untested and brittle, but so are all of them. He wont be a liability unless he refuses to listen. How he talks to his grandfather tells me he will either do that or run towards the wilderness for Goldbert to find." She talked as if she and Vigot were the only people there.

"I need to see how you hold a weapon to decide if you are to be in the guard, the scouts or the latrines. Either way you will be subjected to harsh treatment from the start. Its up to you to earn the respect of your brothers and sisters as I cannot afford to go easy on anyone. That means endless weeks of practice, long and dark nights of staring into the ice and snow from atop the wall where the wind rends flesh from bone. Your house name and status will mean nothing to anyone stationed there and if I so much as hear a whisper of objection, the whip will be my polite answer. Are these the terms acceptable?"

"I will advise to heed her words carefully, my lord." Vigot spoke to Reimar, hands crossed behind his back. "She only exaggerated about the wind." A barely noticeable smile formed on his lip. "There is also the matter of your logging. Anything you bring with you is yours of course. But to guard it you will need to protect it yourself or earn friends among the men really quick. You will share the barracks with everyone else and the utilities that are available to you. As for privacy, that is a luxury you will have to find yourself. Even I find it hard to come by most days." There was a short silence as he let the boy think about it "So, are you absolutely sure you wish to take the needed steps?"
 
I'm going to regret this.

Oliver simply watched as the prince gave him a pat on the back before quickly departing. And before he could turn about, he could already feel both Titus and Maria breathing down his neck. He slowly turned, and almost jumped when he noticed Maria's head next to his. Her lone good eye staring at him. A frown adorned her face, though that was fairly common with how she tended to be.

"And what did Prince Cabrus have to say to our dear young lord?" she asked, her tone serious but still bearing a hit of curiosity. Titus simply stood beside her, arms folded and gazing down at Oliver through his helmet's thin slits.

Oliver glanced back in the direction that the prince had left, before looking back to Maria and Titus. "...He begged me to shelter him back in Tarth if a war for the throne began between the his brothers. He fears for his life, and thinks his brothers will try and kill him in an effort to take the throne."

Maria cocked her eyebrow. "Bold of him to ask such a thing straight out the gate, but its obvious why." she soon replied, "Tarth has one of the stronger armies in the empire. A bi-product of your father's status as the Emperor's hand. He could enforce the Emperor's will when needed, without the need of Imperial manpower." She then smirked. "In addition, you're new to this sort of world. He figure that he could just swoop in, plead his case, and you accept. Which you did."

Titus grunted. "This means I'm going to have to make sure that Tarth's defenses and troops are ready in the event a war DOES break out." he stated, himself glancing to the other princes as they walked about. "...I honestly hate politics."

Maria chuckled faintly as she straightened up. "We all do, but its just something we live with in a civilized world." she responded, before looking back to Oliver. "Don't take it too hard, Oliver. You didn't expect something like this to happen. Neither did we. We expected to have a little time before the princes began to swoop in to seek out allies, and we were taken by surprise when one dragged you immediately into the mire. But we stand with you, and will help how we can."

She then looked towards the Keep, taking note of Lord von Holt and his entourage proceeding it that direction. "Well, shall we venture into the Keep? I don't believe his majesty would like for us to just stand out here all day. Especially considering what his plans for the day are."

Oliver nodded, taking one last look around, before beginning his walk towards the Keep. Maria and Titus followed, as well as the rest of their group.
 
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The mercenary shook his head. "No, no. I have no doubts about Amarok's abilities." Said Siert. He went quiet for a moment to consider his plan, before him and Coen synchronously looked at Lord Jomier Kelfas. "I've nothing more to ask, really. I'll finish this lovely chilled beverage and be on my way to my Inn for a good rest before the big day." Just as Siert Bruinsma lifted the mug to his lips, he looked passed it at Jomier again. "Not unless you have more wisdom about the Silver Lion." He inquired with a cocked eyebrow before taking a gulp. Patiently waiting for an answer from Jomier.

joshuadim joshuadim
 
The Imperial Palace

Lord Harkren Interaction: Emperor Sagan Emperor Sagan

Lord Harkren remained stone faced, despite the insolence on display by Valentova, and instead scoffed: "No. I did not come to mince words." she spoke to both Annaliese and Rudolf, as she moved her gaze slowly over to some of the other Hinterland houses that were nearby. "It is because, despite our region's prosperity, we are on the brink of catastrophe to put it in the lightest of terms. Already the loyalties are divided, I can tell. Support for one Prince, or another, is already fracturing out bloc. Cappel, Vigil and Larrant have already declared, in private, that they will support Cabrus. Armande and Albret for Maril. And then House Medinus and Sidonia have coalesced around Landon."

She then turned back to Annaliese and frowned: "We are, frankly, surrounded. Neutrality is not an option, especially for the Princes, as much as I hate to admit it. Neither of us can stand alone without inviting destruction."

Her attention then turned to the rest of the aristocracy on display in the Palace exterior, who had now begun to move towards entering the palace itself. Florina frowned as she let out a sigh: "For so long as this damnable tournament lasts, I will remain here trying to figure out this mess. Though, if you wish to discuss this matter further, you can find me in the Imperial Garden, at the seaside pavilion." Lord Harkren spoke before detaching herself from the discussion and moving with the rest of her House towards the Imperial Palace itself.

---

House Kragh Interaction: Breadman Breadman
Reimar was close to speaking as he opened his mouth, but was quickly stopped short as Uchtred spoke up, with a frown on his face. "Perhaps, this discussion should be kept for later. So that you have time to at least *think* about it." the Old Bear spoke to his grandson, before turning his attention to the Highlord. "And perhaps, I will need a discussion with you as well on this matter. After your business with the Council is concluded."

By now, people were moving to enter the Palace itself as indicated by the shuffling of feet and influx of excited chatters for the people that would be welcomed as guests within. "I will simply be in my chambers. You can find me there." Uchtred spoke before leading Reimar aside to rejoin the rest of their House before moving towards the Palace proper.

---

Marius would not get a chance to respond to Maril's proposition, as everyone began to coalesce towards the Palace itself. He did offer the Lord a final look, asking him to think about the offer, before himself departing with the rest of his family to the interior of the palace. Though it was likely the two would cross paths again, which gave the Lord Lynnmare time to ponder the proposition.

Inside the Palace, each House that was visiting was granted a small detachment of servants that led them to their ample accommodations in the ground and lower levels of the Palace itself. Interestingly, the majority of the Houses of the Stormlands and the North were absent as became apparent once head counts were taken. Of the former, only Kragh and Volksha-Karelic were personally present while the latter it was only House Froste. This was immediately a point of speculation amongst many of the Southron houses, but few could decipher any reasoning for this.

Also absent were the Houses of the Reach and of Ashkan, though for the latter it was more or less understandable given their great autonomy within the Empire. As a result they were not subject to the whims of the Imperial core as other regions were. For the Reach, however, it too remained a point of mystery as hushed whispers spoke of their already flagrant defiance of the invitation. Some even speculated that Prince Davin had already secured their support prior to the tournament, and thus were preoccupied with preparations for potential conflict. But it was all speculation and hearsay based on gossip for the time being. Regardless, the variety and amount of Houses on display were staggering and represented most of the Empire's ruling class.

Once taken to their quarters, the Houses were informed of the various activities they could partake in at the Palace: the Library, Imperial Garden, Chapel, Ladies' Foyer, Lord's Lounge, and the Waterfront were all open to the various Houses, as well as the general grounds themselves. Those who were interested could also head out to explore the rest of Ifosea, into the many districts that housed the largest urban centre of the known world. However, for both Highlord Vigot and Lord Lazarus, they would be summoned to the Imperial Council which was housed in the Spire; the large Tower that jutted off from the Palace itself towards the waters themselves and home to the now vacant office of Emperor's Hand. Adelaide, as part of her work, would also be present at the Council itself.

Vexumin Vexumin Count of This and That Count of This and That GrieveWriter GrieveWriter Breadman Breadman Infab Infab Emperor Sagan Emperor Sagan K0mori K0mori



The Golden Talon Tavern
Interacting: Worthlessplebian Worthlessplebian

Jomier took a moment to muse over Siert's inquiry before nodding: "You should watch out for his fighting style. He is aggressive, and fast... fights with a flail and shield, and uses the latter as a weapon as well. Try to stay on the offensive, not the defensive, when facing him. He exposes himself by trying to overwhelm his opponents." the lordling spoke before taking another sip of his ale and cleared his throat. "I suggest looking at his footing to do the deed. Can't fight at all if he can't stand, right?" he then said with a smirk, "Though, ultimately, it's whatever you can come up with in the moment that gets the job done."

He then leaned back into his own seat again and nodded: "And speaking of you... tell me more about yourself. My 'friend' spoke highly of you and your skills."
 
As they neared the palace, there came a point wherein Lazarus felt inclined to dismiss his company and proceed alone to the Spire. It was abundantly clear that the meeting he was about to attend was a private matter, and he didn't need his personal guard present in the company of the Emperor, who would doubtlessly see to his personal safety. He didn't even spare a thought for Rutu as he moved on ahead, leaving her standing befuddled next to Dominik where the Lord had parted ways with them.

Dominik glanced down at Rutu and knew that she was a liability. He couldn't leave her unattended, as it was likely given her history that she would take the expensive jewelry the Lord had furnished her with and sell it, and then disappear somewhere to continue her swindling career. It didn't take a well-educated man to guess how poorly such a turn of events would reflect on Lazarus if the glyrran he so publicly displayed upon his entrance to the capital were to turn up in wrist irons under the watch of another lord or lady. But this also gave him another problem: as long as Rutu was under Dominik's watch, there were few places in or near the palace that the guard captain would feel comfortable going.

He gave a dejected sigh. "Alright, cat. We're going to wait for the Lord in the Imperial Garden."

Rutu looked at the palace walls and the sprawling city around her with a growing mixture of longing and discomfort. If she were human, then disappearing into the crowd, into the byzantine network of roadways which crisscrossed all over the capital before emptying into the expanse beyond would be a simple matter. Dominik had judged her intent correctly, but he had underestimated one prevailing notion in her mind. Away from Lazarus and his guards, she wasn't safe. From the way the other lords looked at her, she knew that she could never blend in and would never be allowed to traverse these lands unharried.

And while there was plenty of money to be made by relying on her old tricks, she wouldn't get far with her antics here. In the Redlands, she could get away with being the "spirit oracle" by simply pretending to be any other glyrran when the authorities came looking. It had worked many times, until the moment Lazarus cornered her. But here in Ifosea, there was no one else she could pretend to be.

She nodded at Dominik's suggestion of moving to the garden, equally glum. "Perhaps I will entertain you there as well," she muttered.
 
"I will seek you out after the meeting is done, Lord." VIgot responded to the Old Bear "And I hope you think carefully before you make any decision." He gave Reimar one final nod before he was hastily summoned to Imperial council. He'd had to leave his two lieutenants by their own as they were not permitted inside the tower. Not a high price to pay if he would be able to present the issues they faced to the emperor. Whoever was in attendance there could be more inclined to heed their warnings more seriously. He departed and left the two on their own.

"Well dear Pila, where do you wish to go?" Goldbert clapped with gloved palms as he was allowed some reprieve from the presence of any lords and ladies in his vicinity "We are allowed a rare opportunity being this down south and in the heart of the empire of all places. We should take advantage, don't you think?"

"I'm not really interested in prowling the city. I'd rather take a rest somewhere." She gave a curt answer while they walked.

"Then the gardens would be good for that, no?" He turned around to face her without stopping his backwards walk "I would be remiss if I didn't visit the library while we're here."

"Didn't think you are a heavy reader. I'd think you'd want to be halfway to the brothels by now."

"Ah, that has no interest to me."Goldbert waved the notion off "I do have certain topics I'm interested in that were shared by the rangers and scoutmasters before me. The archive here would be better kept than the pulped and worm covered tomes found in the Ice tower." He turned again to face forward so he wouldn't collide with anyone by accident. "And I'm sure that our well trained brawlers are already on their way to the finest establishments to blow their allowance on."

"Brave of you to assume they didn't spend most of it in the first one in the lands not covered in snow and frost."

"Only half? You have disciplined them so well!"

The two watchmen went along to the gardens while the Highlord would arrive at the Spire.
 
"Our mistress hasn't said a word in nearly ten minutes... is she feeling well?" Ser von Babel asked, leaning his head carefully over to Chamberlain Rudolf Friar so as to not poke the man with his tall satyric horns. They strode behind Lady Valentova dutifully, and in turn more servants followed behind them. They were currently being overseen by Master Desmond Valentova who was at the age now where he needed to learn hands on how to deal with organizing a household staff. Unlike his elder sister, he was a quiet and pensive soul that earnestly sought her approval, but he lacked the stabbing and sometimes bitter demeanor of the household head.

Ser Friar watched their Lady stride ahead with purpose, her parasol at her side like a sheathed blade. She was following hot on the heels of the Imperial staff taking them to their lodging, and her mere proximity to them was inducing a sense of haste to cut out any sightseeing. "Lady Valentova conversed with Lord Harkren," Friar said. "And she is now well aware of our political situation back home concerning our... neighbors." Rudolf Friar considered himself a statesman, a diplomat, and an artist when time allowed. His tenure as a quartermaster for an assembled levy oversaw the best organized military force of peasants in Vallach in years, and their campaign to root out a bandit network saw him knighted, though he had little inclination on how to wield a sword. He was also a teacher and a mentor, chiefly involved in the education of Lady Valentova and Master Desmond, despite his own relative youth to his wards.

"I think she needed to hear from Lord Harkren on how truly divided our fellow provincials are. She knows we can't truly stand alone. But having Harkren come to her saying that we are the two remaining neutral powers... in a manner of speaking... has signaled to her that we are in more dire circumstances than she previously thought," Friar explained, exchanging a short glance with Ser von Babel, the marshal of the household. "She now realizes what I began to fear some time ago. House Valentova will have to stand with House Harkren in the likely event of a succession war."

Von Babel growled in response, though this was no act of malice, merely a quaint way the large satyr indicated a sense of contemplation. "I'm confident in our forces and positions, but we'd not last long against an organized incursion, I fear. The mountain passes, the marshes, the woods - these are and always have been our best allies. But enough blood and bodies can cobble a road through anything, even rock and ice with determination."

"Hmph. You sound like the northern wardens speaking like that," Friar said.

---

A brief visit to their quarters rendered Valentova into a short tantrum, much to the relief of Friar and Babel, for her usual color was back. Both of them realized nothing the Imperial palace could offer would please their Lady, and they suspected she knew this as well, though that did not spare her energetic outburst. "I have better curtains in my lavatory," she spat, streaking across the room like a comet. Master Desmond indicated their staff to do their best to make their quarters more homelike, though this would be a challenge given they were guests with limited luggage. This mostly amounted to a fortress of fine cloth, pillows, and peculiar dolls being assembled on the master bed for Lady Valentova to lounge among like some fell creature hiding among the brush of the dark forests back home. Ser Friar knew of no one else who slept in a literal tangle of blankets, and he found no jealousy on the part of her handmaidens who had to wake her every day, knowing that where she slept upon her bed the night prior would likely be different from the current night. At the very least, she did not bite them like a venomous viper from beneath the shrouded blankets - that was a habit she lost in childhood, most fortunately.

"When I return, I expect this room to be proper!" Valentova announced. The inner staff nodded dutifully and continued their labors, unpacking various items and aesthetical pieces to satisfy their mistress. A small shrine was more or less assembled for her crown to be placed upon, situated like a centerpiece one would find in some demonic temple. For now, she could make do with a simple and more casual circlet of silver with a blood-red gem upon the center.

---

Lady Valentova, Ser Rudolf Friar, and Ser von Babel journeyed to the Imperial Gardens once they had settled their living situation. Valentova narrowed her eyes and sought out Lord Harkren, while Ser Friar kept on the lookout for House Froste, as he had business with them he wished to conduct when possible. For the moment, he observed some of the curious figures from House von Holt. Their Lord was not among them, which did provide an ample opening for more gentle introductions. Of the great military powers, the von Holts would be near the top, and despite their distance from Vallach, a mutual friendship was always beneficial.

"I will make inroads with the von Holts, if possible, my Lady," Ser Friar intoned to Valentova. "A friend on the other side of the continent could be of great use to us."

Valentova waved her hand about. "Do as you must, Rudolf. I have to deal with that dreadful Harkren. Again."

"Do remember your breathing exercises, my Lady. And that your previous parasol was... unable to be repaired after the previous incident."

The two parted ways, going to their respective destinations. Lady Valentova presented herself to Lord Harkren as requested, though she remained content as a wet cat, her claws only just hidden by the folds of her grand dress.

Ser Rudolf Friar crossed the garden to meet the figures of Dominik and Rutu. He moved with the fluidity of a snake yet possessed the countenance of a watchful owl, his thin eyes hiding the extent of his awareness. While there was nothing openly malicious about the man, he was still a product of the great land of Vallach, and the energy of that land still inhabited every manner of movement. Once given the chance, he presented himself equally to Dominik and Rutu, bowing in a peculiar fashion and making a curious hand gesture that revealed slender hands leaden with black rings that held gold scripture and nails painted the same ominous ebony shade. Such a sight was often hidden, for he typically held his hands out of view within his large sleeves.

"Salutations, countrymen. Might we speak if time is available to us?" he inquired politely, gaze flickering between the two. His grin revealed a prominence in his top incisors. "I am Ser Rudolf Friar, honored chamberlain to Lady Valentova."

Elsewhere, Ser von Babel sauntered around until he spotted two of the figures that had come down from the Wall with their Highlord. He hadn't expected them in the garden, and he decided to make the best of it. In a polite but direct manner, he approached them with a nod. "Hail, there. I've not seen watchmen in many years, and never expected to see them this far south. Was your journey here amicable, I hope? I reckon more than a few dungeons were emptied along the way."
 
Damik And Kyraug

It felt like the arrival period flew on by here. The houses appear, they find the princes suddenly overwhelming them, and then everyone is sent off to the appropriate quarters. Dami, for one, didn’t quite enjoy that much. There was little time to speak to much of anyone. It was just right to business. Though that was the reason for all the houses gathering at the capital like this. At the very least, things seemed to be calming down now.


Damik soon arrives to his room. It was a nice space, suiting one of his station, as haughty as it is to admit as much, Two guards in full armor station themselves at his door before he enters fully with Kyraug at his side.

“Finally, we have a bit of time before much is expected of me. Gives us time to explore the capital a bit, wouldn’t you say, Kyra?”

Damik looks back for confirmation, but is greeted only by a displeased expression from his servant. He groans a little. Seems that even during this much needed down time after the time spent traveling here, Kyra was going to be very stern about his masters safety and maintaining appearances, blah blah.

“Master… you clearly do not need me to say as much, but you should remain close to your retinue, at the very least your security. There are many sights to behold here. I can already tell that you’re wanting to go out into the city to explore.”

Caught red handed. Damik wasn’t very keen on remaining here. There was much to find out in the city and he wanted to wander around a bit, but with his servant at his side all the time, that would prove impossible.

”Kyra, you will drive me insane with all of this nagging. How about this. I shall spend some time in the Lord’s Lounge surrounded by a detachment of guards as I read a book. During that time, you are dismissed from my service. You should truly spend some time for yourself, Kyra. You will work yourself to death at this rate.”

Kyra coils his head back in surprise, as well as displeasure. Dismissed from service?! Albeit this change would only be for a short time, it was still very uncomfortable for the servant. If anything happened to his master while he was away, it would crush Lord Hallem... and cost him his head. However, an order was also an order.

”Very well… master. I shall go and spend some time for myself.”

Damik felt a little guilty for doing that to Kyraug, but the servant had not had a day to himself in many years. Though Kyraug was a servant, there were moments where he was more than that. A sibling even, granted one a bit older that himself and certainly not of the same blood. He didn’t bother saying anything as Kyraug stepped through the doors and made his way through the halls.

Once free from his clingy servant, he steps beyond his room as well, turning to one of the guardsmen stationed outside.

“Gather a few other men and follow me. We shall be going out into the city for a short while.“

The armored man looks down the hall in the direction Kyraug had gone.

“Very well, milord. I… er… I dread to imagine what shall happen if the head servant finds out about this, but your wish is my command.”




Kyraug

Kyraug spent some time changing from his servants attire and into something a bit more fitting a tour of the ground. Once he straightens his tunic, he begins his elegant walk through the halls once again. He wasn’t quite sure where he wanted to go, but it was the perfect opportunity to explore a little… within reason, of course.

He tried to think back to when he last had time for himself. It had to have been during his fifteenth year. The Bralmeyer family had departed from the main estate and left Kyraug behind to keep the grounds tidy. He handled his task thoroughly and efficiently and often had plenty of time to himself to do as he wished.

He didn’t do much other than enjoy a few books from the archive of the estate, but it was still very enjoyable. Perhaps he would find another book to read, if he was able to. That would best be found in the Library.

The journey there was less than eventful. Not many people deigned to bother him as he went. So long as he wore the Bralmeyer house colors and their mark, he was given the proper courtesy appropriate for a head servant. It was known by all that the Bralmeyer family and all the people that serve under them did not take orders from anyone other than the the emperor or from the heads of the family itself, so trying to command Kyraug to do anything in particular would have led to a less than pleasant situation.

Kyraug didn’t wander these halls with the intention of causing trouble though. He just wanted to relax.

When he entered the Library, he hums as he peruses the different books, a finger tapping the spines of different texts as he passes before he finds something that interests him. Finding a comfortable armed chair, he settles down, kicking one leg over the other before he begins to read.




Damik

Damik departs from the emperors home for the city in a very subtle manner. He did not want to grab the attention of the whole keep and in turn grab his servants attention. He could already see it. If Kyra had gotten word that he was leaving, the Vadyeen would tear through the halls, sap in hand, and find him in little time at all.

Damiks departure was met with a few odd looks, but it was mostly due to the fact that he was surrounded by four armed guards, each of them a member of the special soldiers he had brought along with him. All four men were more than capable of fighting in nearly any situation, against all odds. They are trained to fight until the end with no fear.

Damik felt completely safe, to say the least. However, even without these guards he would feel safe. His father drilled special combat training into his mind since the day he could hold a sword. Out of all five of the group, he was likely the most capable of them. He never liked to boast about his Skill though. There was no point in doing so. The reputation of a lord of House Bralmeyer came from the battlefield, not from what is shared at banquets and feasts.

Damik strolls through the city at a steady pace, looking from building to building, occasionally looking through the window of a store as he goes. He didn’t have anything in mind, being out here. He simply enjoyed being out amongst normal individuals. Some of his best memories come from the times when he snuck away from home to visit the nearby towns and cities. That’s what allowed him to develop a more social personality, perhaps.

He would offer a smile to those he passed on the road, keeping his eyes up towards the rooftops here and there and then level with the streets. It was important to stay aware when out in public, especially when it came to wandering without disguise.

For the time being, he would just wander with very few worries in the world, daring anyone to interrupt this rare occasion where he can simply enjoy his time where he pleases without anyone dragging him anywhere in particular.
 
The Imperial Council, The Spire
K0mori K0mori Breadman Breadman
On approach, the Spire itself was an imposing structure with its flat, polished stone stacked upon itself and towered over a large stony outcrop from the waters below as if it had been a part of the formation since the dawn of time. The walkway towards offered a pristine view of not just the waters that surrounded the large isle, but also the rest of the city itself at a fair distance away. Banners of House Brentor stood on poles and fluttered from the sea breeze as salt spray from below collided with the rocks, giving way to a grandiose entrance towards of the structure itself. Of course, there were stairs available but a readily available pulley system allowed for an elevator to bring both Lazarus and Vigot up towards the top where the Imperial Council met.

It was an impressive feat of engineering, using a system of pulleys, ropes, weights, and gears to propel the platform up and down along the spine of the building that reduced the number of men required to operate its mechanisms. It was also much more convenient than going through the intense amount of stairs that would take the wind out of any men that were in peak physical condition. Upon arriving at the pinnacle with a gentle thud, the wooden gateway opened to a brief hallway manned by two members of the Redguard, the Emperor's personal guard, who halted both men for the time being. "My Lords. Stay here, you will enter when called upon." one of the knights spoke as he returned on guard in the same, almost statue-like position he had inhabited just moments ago.

The muffled words of both Emperor and councillors could be heard from behind the doorway, the contents of discussion being left only up to speculation. Nearby, next to a beautifully crafted window, were ornately carved chairs with velvet purple cushions to allow for both Vigot and Lazarus to sit and pass the time in relative comfort alongside a servant who held a fresh pitcher of wine and goblets for use.
 
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The Imperial Garden was far larger and more elaborate than Rutu could have predicted, giving a bit of levity to her mood as she and Dominik passed through a gateway into one of the many themed sections which held the flora of particular corners of the Empire, so that one who walks aimlessly on the web of pathways connecting them all together would, perhaps unconsciously, receive a tour of the Empire's incredible span and diversity of nature. At the center of it all, a huge, pale, defoliated tree towered above the rest, and Rutu was brought to a halt for a moment to observe and wonder where such an impressive and venerable specimen might be found in the wild. Dominik paused as well and traced her gaze to the same point. He was not inclined to waste time, and beckoned her to keep walking.

It wasn't long before they reached a shady bend in the path where a white poplar tree provided some shade, and the Captain found a place to lean and rest under the weight of his armor. He was looking forward to checking in to his quarters so that he could shed his equipment, but for now, the fresh air alone would need to suffice. Rutu, meanwhile, perused the flowers and ferns which decorated the beds of the garden nearby, identifying relatives to similar breeds in the Redlands.

"You did a good job, reviving those men who struggled from the heat on the way here," Dominik said to break the silence.

Rutu's ears perked as she plucked a sprig of herb and sniffed it, before tucking it away into a fold of her dress. "I try not to disappoint," she replied, disinterested in conversation. She continued to work in silence for a while longer until Dominik grew annoyed at her contempt.

"I doubt the Emperor approves of visitors pruning his plants," Dominik said. "Whatever you're looking for, I'm certain it can be found at the market."

"The Emperor has one foot in the grave, sir. I think he has greater things to worry about than the appearance of his yarrow. Can you tell which plants I've picked from, sir?"

Dominik furrowed his brow. "No," he answered.

She plucked another sprig from the growth and tucked it away, before looking back on Dominik with a smirk. He felt inclined to say something else, but he couldn't form an argument. Besides, they were not alone in the gardens, and even in such a wide and elaborately-tended space, voices could carry and an unpleasant scene could be witnessed by the other noble houses. Dominik was determined not to cause any embarrassment to his Lord, and this proved to be wise, as the chamberlain of House Valentova approached unexpectedly to introduce himself.

"Salutations, countrymen. Might we speak if time is available to us?" he inquired politely, gaze flickering between the two. His grin revealed a prominence in his top incisors. "I am Ser Rudolf Friar, honored chamberlain to Lady Valentova."

Ser Friar's vaguely effeminate, off-putting appearance and unusual fashion was immediately captivating to the Captain. So strange and cultured were the residents of that distant land, and he wondered whether they felt the same about the Redlands and their denizens. Having traveled much of the eastern half of the continent before settling under Lazarus von Holt's leadership, Dominik suddenly felt as if he knew very little of his land worth mentioning. Their culture was of course derivative from the Empire at large, owing to a short, colonial history dating back only a single generation. Nonetheless, he had been addressed, and he would try to represent his Lord well.

"Good day, sir. My name is Dominik Sulzbach; I am Captain of Lord von Holt's personal guard," he answered. "While I do not speak on behalf of my Lord, I am happy to be a messenger." He paused and watched wearily as Rutu stood and brushed the dust off of herself before turning, her flowing dress sweeping across the tidy stone pathway. "This is Rutu Nax'ya, spirit oracle of the glyrran people, and Lord von Holt's appointed War-Witch."

"Greetings," she said in a slightly hushed voice, effortlessly switching to a more theatrical version of herself to suit the occasion. "What winds carry you to us?"

---
Seemingly unaffected by the vertigo-inducing ride up the elevator, Lazarus was doubly at home, as he not only grew up in the vicinity of Ifosea, but the Spire itself reminded him of his new, seaside home in Castle Marisporta. The smell of salt on the air helped him to relax ahead of whatever business the Emperor had summoned him to, and he graciously accepted a glass of wine before setting himself down in the comfortable chair that was offered him.

Permitted a time alone with the High Lord, Lazarus wondered whether the man before him was as much a thinking man as he was a warrior. "So," he said calmly, "which of the Empire's thousand crises is the Emperor concerned with today?"

He hoped that Vigot would know more than he did.
 
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63a43bf4cc5d577547f066defba38830.jpgAdelaide
She'd caught wind of some things of import, despite it all.

The rather odd names of several of Rainor's defenders had thrown her for a loop back in the courtyard, dislodging her from the focused performance she'd been giving and almost drawing a snicker from her lips. But she merely silenced herself, hiding her smile behind a hand and holding her breath. It was the perfect of shock instead of humor, one she quickly waved away as the Prince took his leave.

Only for a certain from House Kragh to immediately replace him.

It was not moments after Prince Davin took his leave that Uchtred appeared. Though Adelaide was fully prepared to engage once he bowed, it was the interruption of something fairly personal that stilled her tongue since.

Reimar, a bastard of House Kragh, was determined to join the Highlord's retinue of defenders, to serve on Rainor's Wall.

It became something of a personal matter that Adelaide felt no urge to intrude upon, given how open the emotions of Uchtred and Reimar were. Using her 'shock' from earlier as a cover, she stepped back, merely listening as Vigot described only a few of the conditions he'd have to meet before he could even be considered, gauging everyone's reactions throughout. However, she was not given long to stew on such information, as the crowd had finally started shifting.

They were being ushered inside.

All the houses had arrived, the players had been assembled, and to the games they would go.

Realizing just how awkwardly she stood out after witnessing such a roller-coaster of a discussion, Adelaide quietly excused herself before practically melting into the crowd. At least, she tried to melt into the crowd. Her particular height made it difficult not to stand out, and folks tended to give her a wide berth as they entered the Imperial Palace.

She'd stayed at the palace several times before on certain assignments from the consortium, so she merely strode away from the crowd once inside. However, she wasn't able to get very far before she broke into a trot. She knew there would only be so much time before she was called, and that she would have to work quickly while information she'd just gleamed was still fresh in her mind.

Quickly stealing away to a dark corner of the castle, Adelaide produced a small journal before pouring over what would matter most to her allies abroad. The emperor's ailing health was no small secret, and she didn't wish to exascerbate matters by over or under exaggerating his condition. Petty rivalries and unions between houses would draw an eye, but she personally found such matters common in any nation of great size.

No she focused on the wall, as it was clearly an issue that Coincounters had a severe lack of information on. With a small quill and a pouch of ink, she copied down practically every word that the Highlord and his soldiers spoke, every pause or shift in demeanor was noted for later.

But that matter with Reimar? That would be something she definitely kept from the paper, as she wasn't even sure if it was relevant enough to be worth jotting down. She'd keep that little matter tucked away, and focused on her work until a voice called out.

"Madame?" a servant had noted her from beyond a nearby hall, and quickly approached with steps both eager yet cautious.

She paused as he continued speaking, his words making her pocket her little trinkets deep inside certain pockets of her finery.

It was time, and so she smiled wide as she let the Servant accompany her to the spire. Despite holding a full conversation with him over the splendors of the palace, Adelaide's mind was on her notes. Since they still needed a moment to dry, she went over them with a smile despite the pit forming deep within. The absence of House Froste and those of the Reach had not gone unnoticed, and the occasional whispered conversation she heard on her way to the spire did nothing to reassure her.

But calm she remained once she bid farewell to the cute servant lad, who tried his best not to stare at her hooves as he took his leave. Once he was gone, Adelaide's smile vanished, as she was left with nothing more than her dismal notes to accompany her up the elevator to the wooden door leading inside. She was just closing her journal up when she entered the hallway before council chamber proper, looking up to find Highlord Vigot waiting alongside Lord Lazarus.

She'd no idea how much time they'd spent waiting, but she was able to catch the tail end of Lazarus's words regarding what conundrums the Emperor would be focused on.

"Let us be hoping it is one of the thousand, Ser." she said whilst strolling over to the finely constructed window "A man of his condition does not deserve new ones."

Lowering her journal upon viewing the wondrous view the Spire had over a the palace and the city beyond, Adelaide nodded to Highlord Vigot with a smile "Mi-Yan Saht, Wall Keeper, this envoy hopes Emperor hears you well."

She then a made a point of bringing her free hand to her chest before giving a slight bow towards Lazarus.

"Ter-Lu Saht, Ser." she said as she rose "Adelaide of the Coincounter Consortium. This envoy hears much of your Redlands, and is wishing for your success as well."
 
The journey up the Spire was strangely familiar to Vigot. The structure and architecture made him wonder if the engineers and architects that toilet on this tower were the same that constructed the Ice, Frost and Snow towers on Reinar's wall. Or perhaps that was merely the style at the time. The short hallway and room they were let in shared similar characteristics. Odd details that would only stand out to someone who spends too much time worrying about the condition of the keep.
So, which of the Empire's thousand crises is the Emperor concerned with today?
Let us be hoping it is one of the thousand, Ser. Mi-Yan Saht, Wall Keeper, this envoy hopes Emperor hears you well. Ter-Lu Saht, Ser. Adelaide of the Coincounter Consortium. This envoy hears much of your Redlands, and is wishing for your success as well.
"Your wishes are appreciated, lady Adelaide" The Highlord's attention was brought back to the present by Lazarus and Adelaide. "I cannot pretend to know what the Emperor wants to discuss. I can guess by me being here that he would wish to talk about the issues the Watchmen face on the wall and beyond it. I would also assume the same is true for whatever issues you face in the Redlands, lord." He paused for a moment to think "Which, I have to confess some ignorance on. The men and women who do come from your lands have little interest in the politics. They rather curse your name."
---
Pila and Goldbert entered the garden and spend the first few moments in wonder. The beauty and majesty was a testament to the amount of effort that had gone into its creation and upkeep. Plants, flowers, bushes and trees that they could only guess come from different parts of the empire filled every inch. This was common to the highborn, but to a former thief and shieldmaiden from the Watchmen, it was a once in a life-time chance to see the splendor. Their moments of bliss would be interrupted, rather politely, by someone who they could only guess was serving as a guard for one of the many lords. Pila managed to recognize the markings. One of Lady Valentova's men. She couldn't help but wonder if the stories she's heard had any truth to them or were just malicious rumors.

"It was a rather pleasant trip, ser." Godlbert answered for both of them "We had nearly forgotten what the ground under the snow looked like."

"The dungeons and pens had enough men to satisfy many basic needs." Pila answered his other question drily.

"Hmm, yes. We lost half the Highlord's retinue because of it. Not because of dangers or desertions, mind you. Someone had to escort them back to the Wall and you've heard how things go, I believe. Send one watchman south, 20 watchmen go to the north. What does the Wall call that? A good harvest. And the Empire? Good riddance." A joke many watchmen share among themselves and the different jailors they visit. "Excuse us Ser, but since we don't make the usual rounds down south, we don't recognize you."
 
It wasn't long before House Froste was settled into their quarters. When it came to staying in locations other than their home in Tarth, they packed in a more utilitarian manner. The essentials were brought and used, and if something else was needed, they would seek it out and acquire it. Oliver's father had made it a point during the times Oliver had joined him in traveling that a Lord must set an example for those around him. Use what is needed, and not in excess. Lavishness was wastefulness, even if it did provide some comforts. It was likely why he continued to dress how he did and travel as he did when he was the Emperor's Hand. Compared to how fancy everyone else had looked, he probably stuck out like a sore thumb.

Maria was the first to speak, as they gathered in the hallway just outside their quarters. "I shall be in the Imperial Gardens. I wish to check on the state of the black hellebore flowers." she stated, glancing between Oliver and Titus briefly.

Oliver raised an eyebrow in confusion. "Black hellebore flowers?" asked the young lord. Black Hellebores grew across Tarth, and were known as House Froste's badge. That much he knew. Why were the ones here so important?

Titus spoke up before Maria could answer. "Your... Your mother sent a group of black hellebore flowers she cultivated herself to be planted in the gardens on the northern side. It was a few years before you were born. Your father would go out and look at them every morning while he was here in the capital." said the knight. "As common as they are for us in the Stormlands, that particular patch of flowers held a special place in his heart."

Oliver took in the information, slowly nodding after Titus finished. "...I should go and look at them myself, then." he soon replied. However, Titus would soon speak again.

"Perhaps later, my Lord. I believe we should speak to our friends from the Wall. We have dungeons full of potential prospects for them to take a look at. Maybe the bandits and thieves will prove more useful as guards against whatever lies beyond that towering structure." stated Titus.

Maria nodded. "I agree. At the moment, that's of more importance." she said. She glanced to Oliver. "I'll see you afterwards, of course."

--- --- ---​

It wasn't long afterwards that Maria found herself in the gardens, accompanied by a lone guard of House Froste and a servant. Both stood away from the house stewardess, as she slowly walked along the paths through the flowers and trees. She had been through the gardens alone a few times before, finding it a rather peaceful place to meditate on gathered information or tasks that needed attention. She also accompanied Edmond Froste whenever he visited the gardens as well, offering conversation for the former Lord as he gazed at the flowers his wife had grown.

She eventually found the patch of flowers on the northern side of the gardens. Clustered in amongst some other flowers that had been gathered from the Stormlands, they reminded most of wild roses that one came across while traveling. However, these were more akin to buttercups despite their appearances. They were also rather poisonous, as well, to both people and animals. That didn't stop those of the magical persuasion from using them in spells. The religious also used them, scattering them across the floors of their homes to ward off evil and using them to bless animals and drive away witches.

Maria herself had never used the flower in spells, really. She found other flowers a bit more useful, and far less toxic. She sighed faintly, as she began to dwell on the incident that robbed her of her magical abilities. Her hand moved up to her cheek, but bumped against her leather mask which covered it. It forced her to drive those thoughts out, returning her attention to the matters at hand. She'd find a way to get her powers back. Later.

She soon continued walking, moving along until she noticed a few individuals standing beneath a tree in the gardens. One of them seemed to be a member of House Valentova, while the others were of House von Holt. Maria's eye was drawn to the Glyrran first and foremost. Von Holt's 'war-witch', she had heard. Maria didn't seem particularly amused by the title. If anything, the Glyrran was probably being used as a political piece.

She remained at a distance from the trio, allowing them their privacy while she gazed at the rest of the garden. If they wished to speak to her, they would. She wouldn't force it.
 

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