Michael
Wisdom Serafina 
Chapel, Castle Grunewald, Vallen 

Serfina chuckled at his poor advice and mocking sneer, her head tilting slightly as he took a step forward. His demeanor had changed and she didn't like it. 

Surprise flashed across her face before he caught her in his chilling gaze. "Congratulations, the Feyshorian court has gained an artist of tremendous talent." As with many men, the temptation and egotistical belief of ones importance had clouded his judgement. Earlier, when there was no hope, he had come to her seeking acceptance from the Gods. Now that they had blessed him, he thought he was the most important man in the world. 

Her mind replayed their conversation on the stairs as she determined whether she should flatter the bard and utilize him as a spy in the Feyshorian court or let things go and leave him wondering if he had imagined it all. Serafina was not ignorant to the ways of court and had a feeling the man was boistering his importance. At the moment, he was untrustworthy. Kallophon would be of more use to her when he returned to the gods crawling for help if things fell through. Desperate acceptance from the divine could be a great motivator. 

"On the contrary, Kallophon." She continued, the monologue of thoughts having only taken a few seconds of time. "I told you the Gods approved of your path and they've given you an opportunity. Far be it from me to interfere in their will." Smiling, Serafina brushed passed him to the doors of the chapel. 

"Saris bless your travels and Emin, your music." She opened the doors and exited before glancing back. "If you ever find yourself back in Terresol, please visit the palace. I, along with many others, would be delighted to hear you play."
Lawrence
Kallophon Saz__a__l
Chapel, Castle Grunewald, Vallen

Tremendous talent? *Indeed, the Feyorians have gained such a performer.* And this woman had only seen a mere slice of what he had to offer. The favourable wind of the gods was surely at his back; he was in pursuit of new experiences, of truth.

There was a short period of silence between them, him staring at her with a face full of sardonic expectation When she seemed to abandon her plans for him, Kallophon his eyebrows slightly. He knew that there was a forceful mind at work behind that pretty, motherly face of hers, but whereas he'd expected to meet its full power tonight, its vessel merely smiled and brushed past him, drifting away to its machinations.

He fell a shudder of doubt run through him. What did that woman have in mind? What plans would she be bringing back to the homeland?

"Assuming there's a palace to go back to," He said, hastily and with uncharacteristic inelegance. He looked at her with a slight pout for a moment, then continued, "And not just a smouldering ruin." Kallophon frowned then, his face and voice taking on an appealing quality. "Wisdom, whatever you do—I don't know quite what it is, and I doubt you're still interested in telling me—don't ever forget the suffering that *Our people* Have already endured." His features softened in a what that was somewhat haunting. "I know I won't."
Michael
Wisdom Serafina,
Chapel, Castle Grunewald, Vallen

Serafina's gaze hardened at his mention of a smoldering ruin. Her mind raced to respond, critical of his assumption that she didn't care for their people. Years before she moved to the city, the Wisdom had worked for hundreds in the outer villages. Lived among them. Shared their difficulties. She had endured Kelwynd's hatred of the Southern Pantheon and the murder of her friends and people she loved. He was not the only one who endured hardship. The words, however, dried in her mouth as the bards features softened and he contintued. 

"Like you, the Gods are guiding me." She nodded somlemnly at his last words. "We all endured it and long for a better future." A wash of peace flushed through her body, calming her and lighting her eyes with assurance. "The Gods have not forsaken us."
Lawrence
Kallophon Saz__a__l
Chapel, Castle Grunewald, Vallen

He nodded, reaching to his neck and lightly fingering the amulets that hung from his neck. Glancing down at them, he said with a smile, "I'll keep them in my prayers. Even while I'm abroad out here, drinking, dining, and laying with the heathens." He inclined his head. "Though if the Queen *Does* Manage to convert me into the filthy ranks of some Amarothian cult, my nights lost to worshipping phallic idols and losing myself in religious ecstasy ... Well, do tell Saris that I enjoyed our time together.

"Should I avoid the fate, I will, eventually, come home to Terresol. I pray it will be well." He gave a hopeful smile. "I pray it will be a fairer country than ever before."