Dana
*To say the entire world was abuzz would be a gross understatement.*

For the first time in history, royalty from all the kingdoms would convene together in a single room, at the very heart of Lucidien. Alynthi was the meeting place, and the streets were crowded with Alynthians and foreigners alike, all wanting to see the royalty they had never laid eyes upon. Some wished to see a merfolk up close, like the royalty hailing from Tritetheas. Others wished to see if the Queen of Wolves from Lazaroth was as terrifying as she was beautiful. Many feared the Bear King of the North, while others wished to lay their eyes upon the mysterious sun elves of Khisfire. There were a handful of citizens unnerved at the thought of so much royalty in one place, especially given the known alliances and hostility between them. Nevertheless, it was a time of suspense, mystery, exhilaration and excitement across the kingdoms.

With this important meeting ready to commence within the hour, the guardsmen had nearly doubled within the Alynthi castle. The wayshrine at its heart was heavily guarded and monitered, and any not invited into the castle's walls would likely be arrested on the spot if they dared to appear from the wayshrine. No one truly knew who would arrive first, but it was a known fact amongst the guard that at least one royal from every kingdom would appear, even the notoriously reserved aasimar of Kara-Tur. While everyone knew what the meeting was about, the bigger question on everyone's mind was what the rulers of the world were going to do with the events that happened at Sorevelle.
_ _

Terrible visions plagued royalty and nobility alike, and an even more terrifying voice clawed its way into every attendant of Sorevelle's mind. Rumors had spiraled out of control, some more sound than others. The most common however pertained to the Forgotten God, Azmondious. Was he returning? Or was it some other entity or god the mortals did not know of? There was always the possibility of course it was all some sick hoax, but even then the culprit had to be more powerful than even a grandmaster of magic, given Alynthi's was one of the individual's who's mind was bombarded with visions.Alongside the attending royalty, a handful of councilors were expected to attend as well, if only to act as advisors to their kings and queens; or princes and princesses.

It was quite early in the day. The sun had only peaked over the horizon just under an hour ago, the spring air crisp, clear and chilly. The beautiful gardens that surrounded the wayshrine were thick with dew and of course the sound of shuffling metal armor. At least two dozen royal knights stood watch over the wayshrine, and more lined the route to the meeting wing of the castle where the royalty and nobility would be ushered. Each individual who passed through the wayshrine would be stopped and asked to stand within a circle of truth. Basic questions would be asked, such as confirming who they are. It was a simple but highly effective way of ensuring there were no invaders or spies slipping through the security. No question was too nosy however, just simply confirmations of identity.

_ _
The king of the kingdom, Astalios Dilitrios, would be the first face to greet each arrival. For now, he stood alongside his younger sister, who too would greet the arriving royalty and nobility. Once their identity was confirmed, each royal and noble regardless of relationship to the Alynthi crown would be heavily monitored. Any and all weaponry would be confiscated with permission of course, and stored in a heavily guarded and warded armory specifically for the royal and noblemen's weapons.
Isabel
*The air felt tangibly heavier, in some way. It was undoubtedly a function of the pressures laid upon his shoulder by hosting this particular summit, but it was there nonetheless. He had arisen in the morning something less than alert, and had to splash cold water onto his face to bring himself to full wakefulness. He needed every sense to be sharp, every finger and toe in place. Tensions were high in the world, he knew, and this would only serve to ratchet them slightly higher. He could only hope that with the threat of such a force laid against them all, they would begin to work together, instead of against each other.

Common enemies often united the people of the world - when the dragons turned on Leteron, its allies began to pull together, and it was able to destroy the threat before the world was lost. He was certain politics had never been simple, and squabbling lords and princes had always been a plague on the world. Ambition and morality drove them all into conflict. The hearts of the people of the world could not have changed, he thought. They were still the same throughout the ages.

He inhaled deeply, the morning mist filling his nostrils with the sweet scent of wet grasses and honeysuckle. The courtyard of the wayshrine was set, for the moment, with arches of gold and iron, patterned with the stag's antlers, that made for an outdoor hall, to direct the parties arriving through it into the meeting chamber. There were terms and conditions to read, but none too odious - setting ground rules for a conference would be well within his purview as the host, and any that violated them, no matter how high in station, would be thrown from the premises.

Doubtless, that swaggering child Alyus would be walking through at any moment, eager to puff himself up and impress on the rest of them just how big and powerful he thought he was. He wondered for a moment whether he could throw the man out for behaving like a schoolyard bully.*

_ _
*Then there were the other hostile parties - Queen Ashira, for example. She was far more dangerous than Alyus had shown himself to be - with the ability to read the minds of others, he never quite knew how much she was privy to, and her excising of his secret, the war-drums in his head, was quite the feat. He had not quite figured her out, yet - though she spoke as if she could be trusted in some way, there was no guarantee she would keep his secrets. There was much imperative for her to spread them.

It would not be an easy summit, that was for certain. 

They could prepare as best they could, however. Before the wayshrine, a pavilion was set up, a carpet of black and gold, with seating for the king and his council as they waited. He reclined on the largest of them, the throne, made of seamless black iron to contrast against his suit of armor. It was his usual attire, but where he normally wore simple steel, with the stag sigil of Alynthi made out in transmuted gold on his breastplate, his armor was nor an intricate work of gold, engravings present on every seam and every angle, every border written on in black iron that seemed to blend into the gold without welding or carving.

Transmutation magic, and no doubt - for the king was somewhat famed for his mastery of metals, and this black and gold work of art was resounding proof. The black stag of Alynthi was emblazoned upon the breastplate, and on his head, a circlet of golden antlers for a crown, this one clearly made by the hands of a smith, passed down from generation to generation of Alynthi kings. His eyes were sharp, though they were a muddy brown like silt at the bottom of a pond, and his hair fell in dark waves to his shoulders. He was broadly built, sturdy, and muscular, and his jaw and nose were strong. Ears that were halfway between a point and rounded were hidden in his hair, and he seemed somewhere near a wood elf on the elven side, though undoubtedly a mix.*

_ _
*He glanced to each side of him, surveying his counselors and his family, making sure they appeared ready to receive the parties to come. He needed them to be just as attentive as he was, for the day. Caleesi had been through much, but she was both his mistress of magic and the second of four witnesses needed to discuss the happenings at Sorevelle. They needed to present a strong front to retain control over this meeting...*
Michael
Just before the daybreak of Solaris's rays greeted the horizon, Caleesi was already up and on her feet. It had only been nearly three whole weeks since the incident at Thyseer. The memory of bodies falling and screaming around Lady Scarleth still rattled her soul. Princess Delsandra lifted with a terrifying look on her face as light shot out from her mouth and eyes, Cali herself seizing to the floor, the blood red visions– All of it burned within the back of her mind. After that night within Sorevelle, Caleesi never left her room. At least not for the first week. Sleep had not come to her either, even though, she didn't necessarily need it. Nights spent by firelight proved far more comforting than closing her eyes... Only to be met with the cold chill of snow pinching at her feet, and blood curdling screams that would send poor Cali into a panicked daze. 

With tensions already bubbling within the young woman's chest, Caleesi did her best to swallow the concern that lurched from her throat. She understood better than anyone that there was no room for expressing one's fear. Even more so with a massive summit within her own kingdom. Luckily, Scarleth had many days to prepare herself for this day– And she refused to let her nerves shackle her from succession. 

Toeing herself towards a large, porcelain white wardrobe, Caleesi retrieved a gown that was one not particularly favored for a woman liked herself; but one she knew was needed to show face and elegant reputation with the matters at hand. A simple garment at best, the apparel Lady Scarleth wore was of pure blinding white. An enclosed vestment that covered her entire body– save for her arms. Around her shoulders laid an elegant cape that outstretched further than the dress itself, gold armored patterns of leaves and other Alynthian symbols danced symmetrically down either side. Across the rib-cage of the gown sat one thin gold band. Cali's iron stag Astalios had gifted her dangling from it on her hip. 
_ _

Although the sorceress hated such restrictive clothing, with not much room for her traumatized skin to breathe, she would grin and bear it for this meeting. Looking at herself within the wardrobe's half mirror, she could see the drained expression that beheld her face. Noticeable lines had sunken in around her cheekbones, leaving her lips to sit wearily between a thin framed face. Those dull, hollow eyes were almost gray in the dim light. No trace of the once warm, sunlight hues of ocean blue. Caleesi traced her tongue along the outside of her lips to make them appear less dry– a silent sigh rising in her chest. 

*She needed to feed soon.*

How long had it truly been since she had? Caleesi had stopped keeping track ever since the ball. She had noticed the weakened state her body had felt more recently, though, she had brushed it off as the after effects of the visions. Now it appeared her physical appearance was lacking, which was a tell tale sign the vampire needed to feed. Nevertheless, Cali knew there was no time for it. She would have to travel across Alynthian borders to be able to feed– As it was the only way she could keep her secret at bay. With a determined look, Scarleth pulled herself together and headed out to meet King Astalios and the rest of the royal party near the way-shrine. Reminding herself of every step that was needed to keep the peace and order...
_ _

The days leading up to now never got much easier truth be told. The grandmaster knew a meeting was essential, however, having to face hard truths with allies and potential enemies? Caleesi found herself unable to process what kind of outcome would hold every kingdom together; or push them further apart. As the high elf arrived at the courtyard, her eyes darted near the rows of seats for the king and his council. Astalios already perched upon his throne with a hardened look deep in his eyes. He certainly had more on his plate than the rest of the Alynthians present. Caleesi herself harboring a sense of guilt for it as well. She had made no effort to console him once the pair came back home. Perhaps it was the obvious fact that she had no place in speaking with a king in such a casual manner– As Cali *Was* A part of his council. 

The boy she used to know seemed so far removed from the man he was today. Adorned in iron and metals much like a second coat of skin, with a heavy gaze so hardened she could see only herself in its reflection.
Shaking away the unprofessional track in her mind, Lady Scarleth wedged her bottom lip into her mouth with her teeth. By now, Caleesi's mouth was running dry yet again. A faint, staggered breath drew from the she-elf as she shifted into her glistening black and gold like chair. Rotating her shoulders, Cali brought them gracefully behind her back before exhaling. There was an eagerness within Scarleths movements, even with her rather hard solemn stare. She thought anxiously about the many faces that would soon crowd around the round table. Many royals who hadn't experienced such a traumatic event were sure to arrive with questions- and rightfully so. Yet even still, would they choose to believe? 
_ _

The thought of King Alyus arriving surely put a knot in her stomach, as many tales of the mighty bear king painted him as an enemy of many. However, Caleesi had her thoughts scrambled elsewhere when it came to the soon to be arriving guests. Reigning from the sky kingdom for the first time in years, the anticipation of meeting the angelic rulers left a rather perplexing feeling in her gut. *How would they react? Would they be willing to listen? To help?* But what of the other kingdoms as well? It was all a blur. 

Poised within her seat along with her other council members, Caleesi held a stern, neutral gaze even with all the screaming thoughts running through her head. One final look was given towards the king, and though the two had not spoken a word since that unfateful night, when their eyes interlocked, Lady Scarleth knew what he was silently portraying. It was up to all of them to hold the control here. Now, all that was left was to wait... 
||
William
Her Grace stood anxiously at the edge of her chamber's balcony. Her mind had been flowing with flurries of worry ever since the appearance of the clawing voice at Sorevelle. 
Alora had awoken hours before the royal meeting due to the series of insomniac events she'd been struggling to fight. What eased her worries were the lush greenery and bitter-sweet scents of the finest flowers the land of Alynthi had to offer. Melting under the influence of soft breeze and lush aromas, Alora's chest plunged forwards as her hands planted onto the railing of the platform she stood on. She pondered if the meeting to start an hour from now would go successfully. She envisioned Astalios appearing quite tense, as well as many guests. It made sense. Multiple kingdoms, one rival to another, were to be gathered in a singular room to bring forth a single decision, which sounded profoundly difficult. As the sun had risen to the midpoint of the sky, it was her signal to head down to the meeting room before the portcullis of the main entrance were risen. The princess stood straight, adjusted her posture, and with a pivot to the heel she elegantly strut indoors.

The Princess of the Land was dressed in the most extravagant fabrics and materials known to all dwellers. The colours of her kingdom she represented projected pridefully. The heels she wore added to her length, and had her standing tall. Her crown, dazzled with precious rocks, stunned the rays of sun. Limbs and torso dripped with royal jewelry as per dress code. She respected the King's desires, and a significant one that applied specifically to her was following royal conduct and tradition. It only made sense to in a gathering like so, and with all due respect, the princess knelt forwards to the convention.

In addition, she continued to respect the late King's desire; to bring along his word to the table. Therefore on Alora's right thumb hugged her beloved father's ring.

As she stepped foot at the entrance, she noticed that her brother, or more formally known as the King, sat with his broad shoulders spread far from one another. His chest seemed solid, as well as his thoughts that mustered within. Alora had noticed Caleesi second, the gorgeous individual who'd she knew well enough to consider as a close friend. The elf's beautiful locks of yellow always struck Alora's eyes, especially when tamed. She sat still with her chest barely visible to be heaving upwards. Lastly she'd noticed the room itself. How eerie it appeared. All the seats that circled in the shape of a union was intimidating. Before she was caught observing far longer than necessary, the princess curtsied and briskly strut forwards to her seat that was situated next to the King himself. Alora was quick to stick her knees and ankles close to one another. Right after she slid her legs back to position them at an angle. Although her legs were not visible beneath her dress, the position of them was, regardless, noticeable to any royal no matter the length of dress. Her hands were placed one over the other more or less to the side. 
From this moment on, Alora plastered a look of bitter-sweet mellows. As she awaited for the guests, she stuck thought into her head. On average she had met most, yet there were still some she knew just by name or tale. Her heart raced from within as she recalled the names of the great Kings and Queens of the other lands. Their presence would simply put the table at shock. Not much being left to think about, Alora shut her eyes briefly before reopening. She was ready for any guest to appear.
Harvey
Appearing from the cloud of dark mist from the wayshrine was the King of Gantrick, Alyus Archaius. The dark mist gave way for gold, as the king's apparel came fully into view for those watching each individual appear from the wayshrine. A golden cape lay upon his shoulders, the right decorated with a bear of black steel, roaring and baring its teeth. The lining of his cape was white fur, a clear call to his home and country in the north. Underneath this cape was an intricately decorated and hand-tailored tight-fitting jacket, red, black and gold in color. There was no symbol of Alyus's kingdom upon his chest, as it was resting upon the back of his cloak. Finally, atop the king's golden and long hair was a crown of black steel, matching the bear upon his shoulder and the gloves on his hands. All things considered, he looked both regal but fearsome, though that was his intention.

Alyus was more than aware of the rumors about him. Some feared him, others saw him as an unworthy or unprepared child simply sitting upon a throne because it was thrust upon him. He knew he could prove them wrong, but it would take time. Much more time than he spent hidden away in his castle of snow and stone. A part of Alyus regretted not attending Sorevelle, though he never had. Perhaps he would have seen first hand what this meeting was about, could confirm it being true. While all the details were not entirely clear as of yet, Alyus was skepitcal. This 'prophecy' wasn't entirely sound in Alyus's head, though there was always the real possibility he understood as much as everyone else who was just as confused as he. Additionally, his close ally was there, Queen Dhakashira. If she had a reason to lie to him, than perhaps he'd lose an ally this day.

Then there was the many that looked at him negatively around the world. His only other ally didn't, but the rest of the world either saw a child or a terrifying beast. He wondered if all would attend. Alyus was most curious about Kara-Tur, though their arrival was likely not going to happen. After all, when did the aasimar, aarakocra or mothfolk ever feel inclined to touch the ground? As far as Alyus knew, aasimar currently ruled over the sky kingdom. Perhaps they'd break the tradition today. Another group Alyus was quite curious to see was the merfolk of Tritetheas. Tensions between Lazaroth and the water kingdom were quite high given recent events, but at least this meeting would hopefully put those aside for now. There was an obvious tension in the air itself after all.

_ _
Gazing around at the faces staring back at him, the security wasn't something that came as a surprise to Alyus. The sheer amount of royalty and nobility alike in one room required this much safety and precaution set in place. Alyus brought no reason to be a threat however. Leaving his trusted and enchanted battle ax at home, all he brought was himself and his council. A few faces Alyus did recognize, one being the princess Alora. The Bear King remember just how regal she looked even in morning over her father's passing. Then Alynthi's Grandmistress of Magic, Caleesi Scarleth. As delicate as she was beautiful. Alyus had heard she experienced something similar to Queen Dhakashira. It'd be interesting to hear what she had seen...
_ _

The third recognizable face Alyus laid eyes upon was Astalios. Every time their eyes locked it was like steel meeting fire. There was clear but slight animosity in Astalios's eyes every time they spoke to one another. Even though he'd been king for but a fraction of time Alyus had, he still had little respect for the bear king. It reminded Alyus of nothing more than his elder but passed brother, Godwin. Before those memories could seep in, however, the king stepped forward to greet the host of this meeting; Astalios.

Alyus knew not who had arrived before him or if he was the first there. Following behind him through the wayshrine, one by one, were members of his council. Locking eyes with the Iron Stag, Alyus bowed his head in respect. Regardless of their thoughts for one another, tradition was tradition and they were both kings. "Your majesty." Standing up straight once more, Alyus turned to ensure each member of party safely made it through the wayshrine. Once they had, his eyes returned to Astalios. There would of course be immense security, and a zone of truth would not be out of the question. Knowing the possibilities, Alyus refused to allow thoughts of invasive questions being asked into his mind. If the Bear King knew anything about Astalios, it was that he wasn't deceitful. No king in history that ruled over the Alynthi throne had been.
Suzie
*Alynthi*. A horrid, degenerate country, far too concerned with the frivolities of equality that so plagued the more Southern nations to see the bigger picture. At least, that was Vasili's view. As he and the rest of the Gantrickan Court stepped from out of the Wayshrine, materialising in the courtyard, he couldn't help but flinch slightly, narrowing his eyes at the sudden presence of the sun and a cool breeze, to replace the howling icy gales of his home 

Beside him, the infamous Bear King, Alyus Archaius, stood tall and proud, the large golden epaulets bearing the facade of a bear's gaping maw atop his shoulders glistened in the sunlight, the smatterings of light dancing across the golden archways shepherding them towards the meeting - provided they be vetted first, of course. The Alynthian royalty was also there to receive them, Astalios himself in the centre. It took all of Vasili's resolve not to sneer at him, a mongrel playing as a king, some foetid mix between Ursus knows how many different species clad in finery and affectations unbefitting of his origin 

Vasili himself was dressed lighter than usual, but a ring of jet black fur still lined the cloak he wore, a reminder of his home country, even if it was impractical. He was short, unnervingly so given his abhorrent reputation for cruelty and violence amongst the slaves who he peddled far and wide to Dasvaz, Lazaroth, and Khisfire. A man so minuscule and lacking in physicality bearing such an ill-omened title was never a good sign. Though the scars of his rampant childhood illnesses would never be fully eliminated, they were covered quite well here, the makeup doing its job well
_ _

He smiled, piercing eyes raking over the receiving Court as he awaited King Archaius' greeting, his thick mop of wispy grey hair sitting like a deep fog atop his head. At his hip was his family's whip, a lash of deep burgundy, it's jolt detailed in solid gold, inset with dazzling gemstones. A gaudy, flamboyant thing, used for barbarism and depraved acts of violence. Vasili knew it would be confiscated of course, all weapons would be, but he brought it regardless. A statement piece, if ever there was one, that was his reasoning 

"Your majesty, I am Duke Vasili Golitsin of Gantrick, Castellan of Southhallow and Master of Coin, a pleasure to make your acquaintance"

Unassuming yet surrounded by a constant air of malice and discomfort, that was Vasili's game. Despite the pleasantry, his abject hatred of Alynthi and all it stood for fame through in his eyes, though a smile drew across his visage, if one looked deep enough they'd find the vehement spite and vitriol for the so-called un-pure of this nation, held back by the man's stately obligations
Isabel
*As Alyus entered through the wayshrine, Astalios had to hold back a small smile - while it was somewhat predictable to interact with him, he never disappointed. There was a certain petulance about him, even in the manner of dress, in half-capes and huge pieces of metal. A roaring bear indeed. He kept his face as impassive as it had ever been, however, and rose with the rest of his retinue to greet him properly. There was no time to waste in doing so - and as his arms left the black throne of iron, he waited for the rest of the Gantrick retinue to arrive.

The creature that entered, however, made all thoughts of smiling quickly exit the current plane of existence. Gantrick was a notoriously difficult neighbor, with its adamant reliance on slavery, and that in itself bred scum and villainy like no other place save Khisfire and Lazaroth. But chief among scum was this low creature they called a duke, with a reputation for cruelty that surpassed even the common nature of slavers, and ventured into exceptionality. A rat indeed. 

He wondered what Alyus was thinking, bringing this piece of filth into his kingdom for a diplomatic mission, but then again, he supposed the childish excuse for a king had not thought of it at all. Retinues were meant to be made of those who could do good diplomatic work, and his presence at the meeting would sour relations already. How had Gantrick not disgusted its neighbors yet or offended them in some way?

Yet it was the duty of all of them to remain unwavering and calm throughout this meeting, and he could not sacrifice the summit for one man unfit for any place but the executioner's block. He nodded his head in recognition to the king. Duty, he reminded himself. Always, duty came first.*

"Your Majesty." *He replied curtly, mouth drawn in a serious line. His eyes slid down to observe the duke briefly before another slight nod in his direction.* "Your Grace. Welcome to Alynthi Castle."

_ _
"Hand your weapons to the guards, and step into the Circle of Truth before you." *He gestured down to the circle of truth between them, large enough for one person at a time to step in.* "State your names, and your full intentions in attending this meeting, starting with the phrase 'My full intentions at this meeting are'. Then, when you have stated them, and we find nothing objectionable, you may follow the lining of guards to the chosen meeting chamber. You will be joined shortly by the other diplomatic parties. When all are assembled, we will enter the chamber, and I will open the meeting."

*Through it all, his face was as stony as ever, never changing in expression, his voice a deep baritone. Small men, he thought as he observed them both. Both small in the ways that mattered. Perhaps it was the weakest men that did the most damage to the world. They had not the strength to undertake good works.*
Harvey
As eager as Alyus knew his Master of Coin was to be rid of Alynthi from the face of the earth, today's proceedings would not be tarnished by hostilities or animosity outside of meeting's entire reason; a threat that could include the entire world. Though, the king knew his council would remain in line. Whether those present saw the king as a child or not, the guillotine was something many back in Gantrick knew Alyus had an affinity for. Or personal executions by the king himself. Where Alyus preferred a swift beheading by sword with ceremony, Alyus instead opted to rip their head from their shoulders with his own monstrous maw. The differences between Alynthi and Gantrick were vast.

The king had no weapons on his person, made apparent by Alyus raising his hands so his belt was visible and missing any swords or the like. With a few steps the Bear King was at the center of the circle of truth. Looking down at it to admire the magical spell for but a second, Alyus looked up once more to Astalios, who'd brow was as sharp as iron. "Alyus Cateline Archaius, King of Gantrick. My full intentions at this meeting are to determine whether or not the events that plagued Sorevelle are true or not. Depending on the answer to that, to additionally determine next steps in combatting whatever threat has befell Lucidien." The entire time he spoke, Alyus's eyes were focused in on Astalios. Whether the two king's liked it or not, overall they shared a home.

_ _
*Alyus knew Astalios would do anything to protect it, regardless of those who fight alongside him in doing so.*

Looking to the individual who cast the spell to ensure his intentions were confirmed, Alyus then stepped from the spell's center and stepped aside to allow his council to do the same. Watching quietly from the side, Alyus could only hope none of his party said anything they'd regret. Like a terrifying omen, the bear king's eyes burned into each Gantrickan councilor that stepped into the circle, like a warning to not besmirch the crown upon his head. Vasili would next, and with the animosity clear in his eyes, Alyus held his breath for but a moment while the duke answered. And so, the king crossed his arms across his broad chest in patience, awaiting to be led to the meeting chamber where he'd likely spend a good few hours of his time.
Suzie
In terms of diplomatic relations, Gantrick was... Subpar, at best. It's only true friendships were born of the slave trade, and though Vasili Golitsin was a wretched beast of a man who orchestrated untold suffering on an international scale, tearing apart families and destroying countless lives, the very thing which made him so abhorrent to most of sound and reasonable mind was what so endeared him to the slavers - and by extensions, the Kingdoms - of Lazaroth, Dasvaz and others. He was Master of Coin for a reason

Upon receiving the instructions, Vasili obliged. He unclasped the deep burgundy whip from his side, handing it gently to the nearest guard. He awaited King Archaius' as he entered the Circle to disclose his intentions, as was only right and proper of a subsidiary to the King, before entering it himself. It was lucky, the formality and security of the event. It, and the dire subject of the meeting itself, substantially reduced the risk of men coming to blows over the political divides of the world

"My name is Vasili Feodor Golitsin, Duke of Fallholt. My full intentions at this meeting are to assist good King Archaius in ascertaining the cause and truthfulness of the supposed visions which many claimed to have plagued Sorevelle, and how to appropriately respond to both the potential causes and the event itself"
_ _

His accent was thick, thicker even than the Bear King's, the regal drawl of his words exuding self superiority. With both King's eyes upon him, even the multi-generational hatred directed at Alynthi and it's rejection of slavery or acceptance of the lesser beings in this world was stanched from overflowing into a snide comment here or there. The statement about his personal beliefs was already made when he needlessly brought a family heirloom with him, an heirloom quite literally steeped in blood. All his attire, by technicality, was born of slavery, born of the death and destitution of thousands. Even now, as they spoke, hundreds toiled in his mines and fields, deep in the Gantrickan wastes 

Though his hatred ran deep, Vasili was no fool, and if there truly was a threat to all Luciden he would not damn his country just to damn Alynthi with it. But should an opportunity arise *After* Whatever debacle these Sorevelle visions heralded, well, it would be only logical to take it. After his answers were revealed to be truth, he smiled once more, nodding to the Alynthian Court before following the Gantrickan retinue to the meeting room, awaiting the next arrivals
Raymond
Next, emerging from a fog one would see in the early hours of the morning on a beach, came a blue robed figure who's hood and sleeves caught a gentle breeze that ruffled the feathers lining the man's elegant attire. What could be seen if his skin was littered with glistening blue and green scales, while the gills on his neck seemed to gasp for air until he, with a subtle wave of his hand, magically pulled water from a canteen to hold against them so he could breathe normally while two Triton Guards flanked him on either side and his advisors and servants joined him. 

When he looked up from his feet, Dorian's bright blue eyes swept the crowd of all of the royals and nobility that had already arrived. He had never seen so many land-dwellers before, so while he was in wonder of the different kingdoms that had come before him, the Crown Prince also felt a bit overwhelmed already. He had heard so many stories, and not even a few feet away from him were some of the greatest rulers of his time. 

His eyes went to the Shapeshifters who were closest to Alynthi's king. The Iron Stag _and_ the Bear King? It was like something right out of a story book. But, this wasn't a storybook. What happened, and what brought this meeting together to begin with, would affect all of their Kingdoms whether they liked it or not, his own was no different. It was why he was sent in his parents' stead, so he could take part first hand and take another step on his path to becoming a King himself.

When the Gantrick Court moved on, the Mermaid Prince approached Astalios and respectfully removed his feathered hood. As he did so, he bowed his head. 

"Your Majesty. I am Dorian, Crown Prince of Tritetheas. It is an honor." He introduced himself, his long wavy hair hiding the anxious look on his face before he raised his head once more. While his people had few ties with Alynthi, they did have a mutual friend in which they both trusted. Dorian knew he had little to worry about while in the Stag King's kingdom, and the thought soothed the Prince's racing heart. 

Still, he did wish he could return home as quickly as possible. He wanted nothing more than to dive into the sea with Isla, and swim among the sea life. For now he had a duty to perform, and he would follow through. Many would be surprised to find that the Prince carried no weapons. His great blue bow, the Wavecutter, was not on his back and his staff too was missing. He seemed only to bring his entourage, and a few sets of clothes. Along with him, his companions also respectfully greeted their Host, while the guards saluted.