Heather
Marsila Vema
Taemar

She wondered what she meant by summoning spirits and creatures but decided against questioning her further about it. She was impressed to say the least when it came to the woman's abilities and hoped it would prove to be useful if they ever came around to her using it and when she mentioned the use of blood, Marsila's brow raised from curiosity. She turned her body slightly as she returned her attention back towards Siona as she pulled out a few vials from her bag. Thankfully, her shock towards the filled vials didn't last as Siona reassured her that it was in fact her own blood. 

Marsila clicked her tongue to the roof of her mouth after Siona finished explaining herself in regards to the blood. Romia reacted towards the sound and gave a small trot until the two women were side by side so Marsila wouldn't have to turn to face behind her whenever she spoke. "No offence but that's disturbing." She commented towards Siona carrying the vials of blood. "But each to their own, I guess."

She remained silent for a minute, drawing the two into an awkward silence before continuing on with the conversation. "Are you worried about entering a kingdom that is known to be riddled with the plague?" She questioned in regards to Terrasol, hoping neither of her companions would succumb to the sickness before they found the Owl-Griffin.
Lawrence
Kallophon Dikegora
Castle Grunewald, Vallen

Kallophon felt a hopeful smile tearing through the dark shroud on his face when she looked at him, absorbing the comforting warmth of her wise words. "Thank you, Wisdom." He looked up the stairs. "I hope I can help make this a sensible affair through my music."

He cast a furtive look up and down the stairs. With a lowered voice, he asked, "What is this you say about the queen? Is she unfit? You speak of her as if she is unfit. As if she dishonours the gods." When Kallophon had left Terresol for Taemar, he had been tired of discussing Terresolian politics. Much about his kingdom had been filling him with distaste and disappointment; a significant reason for his departure. He longed to be in a fresher setting, to feel the sort of exotic thrill he'd experienced during his time in Ostrava. However, having just met his regent for the first time, he couldn't help but be curious about this strange tension he felt in the air after the Wisdom's comments.
Michael
Wisdom Serafina
Castle Grunewald, Vallen

Serafina nodded graciously to this thanks and lifted the side of her dress that caught underneath her foot as they continued to climb. His questions turned her gaze stoney, a striking difference from the warmth she had shown only moments earlier. It was clear the man was interested in what she knew, but Serafina had to weigh her options. Was it worth trusting him with her knowledge or would he betray her at a moments notice? She held her arm out in front of him on the stairs, glancing above and below them, listening for the sounds of footsteps hinting they were not alone. The Wisdom assumed people of relative importance had already made their way to the throne room earlier, but it would be careless not to check. 

"Dishonor is the polite description." Serafina replied in a low, soft-spoken voice. "The Queen is in direct contradiction of their will. Her facade for the people is crumbling. As a bard yourself, I'm sure you were one of many afflicted by Kelwynd's reign, something I assure you would never have happened if Charity had consulted the Gods." The woman let her arm fall to the side, catching the bard gaze with her own. "A false leader should not remain on the throne and the Gods will ensure she does not." Serafina began to climb again, her heart beating in her ears after the words left her mouth. "I trust you will use this information to enlighten the people. Let your song be what removes the blindfold from their eyes. Be the light that pushes through the facade and bring Terresol into the Gods will once more." Her gaze softened and she gently grasped his arm. "You did not stumble upon this Council by chance, the Gods brought you here to serve a higher purpose."
Lawrence
Kallophon Dikegora
Castle Grunewald, Vallen

Kelwynd's reign—and to think that, for a moment, he'd felt a sunny spell upon his mind. Those two words plunged it into dismal remembrance. He felt his head aching as they all struggled to put on something meaningful with all the creative restrictions imposed by the Syntherionists. He saw Aiolos the poet being paraded around Ianna before they hacked the old man to pieces in front of their temple. He heard agonised screaming outside the city walls and remembered what human fleshed smelled like when it burned. 

It was Charity's fault; that's what the Wisdom was telling him. Kallophon had a habit of trying to find excuses for people, especially women, and he'd often wondered if Charity was wholly responsible, or if she was just a victim of circumstance. Had Charity made the best possible decision, or would it have been better for Sol to be devastated if it had meant a chance of Carney and Caderyn cutting down the barbarian Amaroth-man on the battlefield? Capitulating to Kelwynd had most certainly not meant an end to all the bloodshed, whether or not Charity had intended it to be so. Euphemos had taught him that it was not only useless but harmful to dwell on the doleful "What-ifs" Of the past; the only way was forward.

He glanced at the Wisdom's hand when she touched him, then looked deep into her eyes. He saw no hint of deception. Was it true what she was telling him? Was he an instrument in Saris' great plan for the homeland? The thought threw his mind off balance; he'd come to Taemar by what he'd thought was entirely his own volition, influenced by personal reasons. What if he didn't want to get involved in this? Had he any choice? He often clung to the old heathen ideas of grandeur and individuality, and for a moment wondered if he stood any higher in the divine eye than Charity, but it seemed now that those values might have meant nothing in his destiny.

*One step at a time,* He told himself. "You would have me defame her, Wisdom?"
Michael
Wisdom Serafina
Castle Grunewald, Vallen

Serafina watched as the bard's eyes glazed over for a brief moment before focusing on her once more. She wondered what had crossed his mind. While the treatment of Terresolian citizens by the Cult of Syntherion's followers may have been kept from Charity's ears they had certainly reached the Southern Pantheon. Serafina had read the accounts transcribed by Grand Wisdoms and Visions from the time of Kelwynd's rule. They were horrific, but her heart had been lifted by additional accounts showing the unofficial pushback as Physics with hearts softened toward the lower castes had risked their lives to assist. The dead King deserved an eternal Mourning. 

She slowed a bit as light and soft discussion echoed from above indicating they were soon to arrive in the Throne Room. "The truth is not defamation. Honor the dead by telling their stories." She replied simply.
Rosa
The Pirate King Bradai Maith
Castle Grunewald, Vallen

Bradai had sat towards the middle of the table. High Admiral Gitten Maith was to his right, and to her right was Admiral Rhetto Elbaroda, Privateer of the Second Fleet of Tonate Proper. To his left was Ollie, his scribe. The boy took a small case off his lap, and the Pirate King opened it, placing a number of quills, an inkwell, a stack of parchments and edicts, and an empty goblet in front of him. Quietly, he began to arrange his place at the Council. But he could feel eyes on him. From across the table, he could feel the eyes of his ward, Mikhail Durkhan. His mother had suffered an assassination attempt the night before, and a boy's leg was found in the courtyard. He was pleased to see that his Ward didn't walk with a limp this morning. As he straightened out the last of his papers, he looked to the boy, ushering for him to stand and greet him.

When he and his men entered the room, it had fallen into a brief and noticeable hush. At first he thought it was targeted, but as the time in the Council room dragged on, the idle chatter and milling about always seemed to stop the moment a new party stepped through the doors. Ollie had been making notes of it in his journal. The courtesans were spying. He watched as Charity Lane stepped through the door, unattended. He pursed his lips. "Write vhat down, boy." Bradai narrowed his eyes.

"Charity Lane!" All at once, the Pirate King stood up, waving over the Queen of Terresol. I couldn't 'elp but notice vhat you're alone." He looked around the room, searching for the Wisdom. His gaze was considered, but he was not being quiet. " 'ave you seen Serafina, your Counsellor?" As he rounded the table, his hand slid across Ollie's journal, ripping the book from his grasp. His fingers found the charcoal between the open pages, and he jotted something down in it absentmindedly as he stuffed it in his overcoat pocket. 

As he closed the distance between them, he spied into the hallway. He watched as two Witherlands savages strut into the throneroom. The girl came in first, her seal leather armor emblazoned with a blue frog. Her manservant followed behind her, a sizable hunch in his back. They blocked the view of anyone else coming in. He held out his hand for Charity to shake. 

"She 'ad approached me wiff some trade deals on your be'alf. I just wanted to talk to you about vhem first. She is..." He paused, looking towards the doorway again. The Witherlands girl was marveling at the naked doorman. "She's coming today, yes? I do 'ope vhat you send 'er to me if you see 'er. I fink we should all sit down and 'ave a talk later, about tha trade deal. She's very smart." He placed his hand on top of hers, nodded, and moved away to receive Mikhail. 

"Boy." He said, eyes narrowed. "I fink we should speak."
Katherine
**Mikhail Durkhan-Maith
Vallen, Taemar**

Lord Stafford had joined them shortly after they'd gotten Anya into a seat. She'd managed mostly on her own, the actual use of her arm seemed to be an issue, but Angelica didn't let that be known, making it a point to pull out the woman's chair before Anya could even reach it, and her hand remained firm on the Queen's back until she was seated. Angelica took the seat immediately to her right, letting Mikhail fill the one to her left. 

Mikhail had a thousand questions, but they paused when Anya leaned over to Angelica, murmuring something in Old Fey that he didn't quite hear enough to catch and then translate. Instead, he did catch the eye of King Maith across the table, not having realized he was staring at the man until he saw a hand raise to summon him. A quick glance to his mother proved she wouldn't collapse on the spot - she actually seemed to be holding herself well, and if you weren't close enough to see how tense her muscles were, you might have thought she was unphased. He rose from his seat, moving across the room to where he had been summoned. 

He expected a brief hello, some sort of casual comment on the council and a repeated request to meet up sometime after todays events so they could speak. He didn't realize he had been nervous for the invitation to meet in the library until it was cancelled, and now there was a bit of a tightness in his chest at what it could have been about. Maith didn't offer more than 'boy' in greeting, and Mikhail felt himself steel. 

"Is it a matter of urgency, shall we step out?" He asked, glancing towards his mother briefly before returning to the Pirate King.
Lawrence
Kallophon Dikegora
Castle Grunewald, Vallen

They reached the top landing. Kallophon peered through the door as people continued to move inside. He could see faces both strange and recently familiar. He could spot neither the evil manservant nor the argent-eyed ruler of Astoria, the two people most on his mind at that moment. Besides Charity, of course; he'd lost her as well. He wondered if he'd ever see her again.

He turned to the Wisdom, and for a moment, he was silent. His kohl-encircled eyes searched hers. Then he pursed his lips, and said, "I already know what I'm going to play for this room. As for these things you would have me do—these things that the *Gods* Would have me do, as you say—I'll need to discuss the matter more with you if we can. Presently, I think I'm too distracted to make any judgements. Perhaps we could arrange a one-on-one after this meeting? *The Burnt Thistle* Would be a fine, reasonably safe establishment. Or maybe a chamber somewhere in the castle, or somewhere on its grounds, whatever location is convenient."

He leaned closer. "Though I would love to write some pieces in honour of those lost—nay, *Taken*—in the horror of Kelwynd's tenure, I get the sense that you intend for these songs to be as ... Well, weapons, I suppose?" His look turned very sober. "I play to heal people, to better the world. I'm reluctant to make songs that could cause *Damage*. If you can make me confident that that damage is righteous, then I'll follow your suggestion. I *Will* Need further convincing, however. Forgive me if I am being difficult. Perhaps I'm too tired for anything but my well-rehearsed tunes."
Rosa
The Pirate King Bradai Maith
Vallen, Taemar

The Pirate King looked back towards the door, just in time to see the Wisdom enter with a Bard. His brow furrowed. "Yes." Bradai said. "Somefing is wrong." 

The Pirate King quickly spirited the boy away, giving a passing glance to Anyanka. He briefly considered asking him how his mother was, but the answer was plain to see: She was shitty, but not shitty enough to resist another council meeting. I could only assume that their assailant would be brought before them. "Did you see who attacked your muvher last night? What rumors 'ave you 'eard?" He spoke loudly as he passed by Serafina and the bard, as if he didn't notice them. "I certainly 'ope vhat vhose responsib—" The moment they turned the corners, Bradai began to head down the stairs, putting a hand on the boy to guide him down beneath an alcove. 

The Pirate King's voice grew grimly quiet, "We don't know 'ose listening to us, but in tha coming days I'm going to ask a lot uff you. You 'ave to be ready for vhem. Tha fings I ask you to do, you might even 'ate me for vhem. I need you to kill tha boy." His words were hushed and quick, spilling out of him as he scanned the room for anyone that might be nearby. "Avoid talking to vhat Wisdom. She's dangerous."
Michael
Wisdom Serafina
Castle Grunewald, Vallen

Serafina let her gaze rest on the bard's own as he spoke, unfazed by his words. They were in the public eye now and if she showed anything other than religious support of a supposed concerned citizen it could be used against her. Her eyes briefly flickered towards the Pirate King as he walked past them, speaking rather loudly about an attack. 'Odd.' She thought, thinking it should be kept quiet or dealt with by the victim, who she assumed to be the Duchess Anyanka from the look of it. Had she not met with Bradai the night before, she would have written it off as a mere coincidence, but doubts flitted through her mind like an annoying fly. 

"No need to apologize, I can only imagine the nerves you must be feeling after the dinner yesterday. If you are willing, I would like to pray over you." His eyes searched hers for a moment before giving his consent. Her hands moved to rest gently on his shoulders as she spoke. "May Emin guide your fingers as they create music to accompany the difficulties of this time. The Gods blessing be upon you." When she finished speaking the woman let her arms fall to her side with a warm smile. "I look forward to hearing your song and perhaps more in the future." 

Having performed her religious duties, Serafina stepped to the side and moved to where Charity was, opting for a seat behind her current Queen to wait for the Council to begin. Her eyes scanned the room meticulously, making note of each house in attendance and those missing.
Robert
Prince Nickles Ramsalot
Castle Grunewald, Taemar

Broken, beaten, and mangled. The Prince rubbed his bloodied stump, yearning for his old leg back. It had been a good leg. A leg that provided him with balance, one that allowed him to express his art with the type of fluidity and elegance that was lost among the other elephantine royals. It was a slight against the gods themselves to tear off his leg. He was quite looking forward to the upcoming trial, expecting to gain a large sum of money as reparations. 

"Will there be spiced sugar tarts at the council?" Nickles asked Kenmath, who was hemming his left pant leg to accomodate the loss of his limb. 

"Yes, Your Grace," Kenmath answered, sewing the last stitch. Nickles smiled contently. 

"Yes, yes. Excellent. I do believe that I will be partaking in the consumption of some spiced sugar tarts," He said. He yanked his stump away. "That's enough. Take me to the meeting. I shan't be late to see the mutt hang."

"Yes, Your Grace," Kenmath bowed. He picked the prince up and placed him delicately in a wheel barrow. Nickles fit snugly within, letting his stump hang out the side. 

He was wheeled into the throne room with Kenmath huffing after having to push him up the stairs. Nickles glanced around the room of gauche, bumbling royals. He was better than them and they knew it. He looked at the duchess, who was sporting a bloodied shoulder. "You could have at least convered that monstrosity up. I don't want to lose my tarts by accidentally looking at your festering wound," Nickles commented as he was wheeled past her.
Katherine
**Mikhail Durkhan-Maith
Vallen, Taemar**

Mikhails brow furrowed for half a second before returning to it's casual demeanor. If something was wrong he wasn't going to let anyone know by a worried expression. His mother was across the room, glassy eyed and airing a wound from yet another attempt on her life. The meet fact she was sitting in the room was sign she was trying to show strength, her son showing any kind of weakness wasn't the image she wanted him to portray. 

The Durkhan's, despite everything, just couldn't seem to be killed properly. 

He stepped out with Bradai, well aware of the tone he had taken. He had done it before in the Isles when walking through the Halls, so he knew the game. Appear as an open book about some things to hide another. 

As soon as they were supposedly out of ear shot he leaned in close, listening to what Bradai had to tell him in a rush. "What boy?" He asked, not following. He followed enough to know the man was worried, and that the Wisdom he mentioned had to be the one who accompanied Queen Lane. "What's going on, I feel like overnight I've missed a months worth of information."

**Anyanka Durkhan
Vallen, Taemar**

"I can't wait to watch him hang."