Beverly
*And not too far away was a Dartrix, taking a lovely evening stroll on the beach. Well, it would be lovely, but sand gets everywhere in his feathers and that's just* Obnoxious *To clean out, so it's more like a delayed suffering for him.* 

*He was farther from the shoreline as he caught a glimpse of the Corphish's unusual cruelty; and, with a gusto of a surprised poljak (soyjak) seeing something edgy, he couldn't help but feel, deep down,* This guy is literally me.

*... Erm, anyways. Grim was out here on a walk to take his mind off of things when he came across the stranger; and, sensing there was something important about him- he had a sort of desperate dogged sense for 'important' Pokemon- he approached in a stuffy and forward manner.*

"You there," *He called out, dusting sand from the inside of his feathers.* "You look like an established gentleman. What are you doing here?"
Michael
Fionn's gait immediately stopped once he spotted the Dartrix approaching him, taking careful time to look over his clothing. Frankly? It was ugly. And sand in his feathers? How preposterous, Fionn would never allow himself to become unclean like that. Granted, he didnt have feathers so he couldn't understand what it was like, but he didn't exactly acknowledge that.

This must be a commoner so he thought, and one who spoke well and seemed to recognize true regality and nobility, treating such with the respect they deserved. Excellent. He took a moment to clear his throat before he would speak in a dignified, loud tone "I am Duke Fionn Moravia IV of Barvach and Viscount of Anura. I have ventured from my venerable kingdom of Gwynedd for the purpose of cultural acquisition. Please direct me to the lord or king of this land at utmost haste." He seemed the impatient type, watching Grim in anticipation of a swift answer.
Beverly
*Grim, of course, was actually extremely accustomed to this sort of banter- and on an occupational level, at that.* "I am Grim Goldshire," *He stated almost warmly, albeit rather disingenuous in its kindness.* "Prince of the fallen Goldshirian kingdom. You are on the Luminarian shores, owned by the late god-emperor Volcarona, whose formal name does not quite matter since they are officially *Dead.* And good riddance," *He stated, then looking at his hand feathers in feigned disinterest.* "... For any Pokémon that claims themselves to be a god is marbleless. ... That is, they've lost their marbles," *He explained snottily.* "If you're looking for culture, then I'm afraid you'll have a difficult time finding it *Here*.

"That being said, you seem like a distinguished gentleman yourself." *He looked at his hand. Disheveled. Oh, if only he had a handkerchief to grasp... Instead, he gave a formal bow, one leg back and an arm spread out to the side while another sat at his chest.* "A pleasure to meet you, Duke Fionn Moravia the fourth, of Barvach and Viscount of Anura. I've heard of your kingdom before- quite intriguing, seeing you here." Nailed it.
Michael
A prince who doesn't even know how to properly address royalty? No wonder his kingdom fell. He couldn't really sympathize, seeing as his own kingdom would never fall seeing as it was practically perfect, but even so, he could respect nobility. He had heard tales of the Goldshirian kingdom's demise, but never many details. Mutual respect and dignity between nobility was imperative to cross-kingdom relations.

As for this land... A fallen king as well? What a strange turn of events. Perhaps he should abandon this land to find another... One more... Put together. Granted, it was a curious situation. "Your Highness, Grim Goldshire, I must request that you address me *Properly*. Surely you know how to address a duke if you truly are nobility?" His tone was unmistakably annoyed, but even so he gave a polite regal bow to the prince when he addressed him. 

"Nevertheless. A fallen king is truly something to mourn, even if such a king was a fool. Have you witnessed this mourning present? If not, I suppose it means the king was poorly regarded or that this place truly is uncultured as you say."
Beverly
*'Your Highness...'* Damn straight. *Grim ruffled his feathers as the Duke criticized his greeting.* Am I... Out of touch? Did they have different cultural norms? Or maybe I'm simply getting rusty. *Stand firm. He's looking to make this a friendly interaction. He'll forgive you.* "Mourning... Well, I'd say it's more denial," *With an inquisitive rub of the beak.* "They believe he exists in spirit, in soul, and in other ways that gods tend to do. However, a dead god leads no country, and the political situation is... Intriguing.

"I may have mislead you when I said there was no culture earlier," *He corrected, eyes locking back onto the Duke. [The Duke... Why does that name sound familiar? Memories of a distant place in another world flickered in his mind.]* "It's... Difficult to explain. I suppose it's best if you see it for yourself. Come." *He turned around.* "To the city we go."
Michael
Denial of spirits outright was foolish, after all, *Ghosts* Are real. Even so, the idea that a ghost or spirit could persist with the memories, capability, intent, and ability to continue to protect their subjects is only foolish. Rulers should be revered and loved, and their loss should send a wave of discomfort and pain through all their subjects. 

Fionn cocked an eyelid at Grim's correction, curious as to where it may lead. Fionn understood culture was a complicated thing but the phrasing made it seem as if it were more than just being so. Fionn did not hesitate however, scuttling across the ground toward Grim, joining him while his sash floated behind him, almost angelically. He also carried his suitcase. "A city, you say? What is the population? It's not the capital, is it? Is it part of a barony or fief? Something else perhaps? What is this land known as anyway?" Yeah, he had a lot of questions, and he expected each to be answered to his companion's best ability.
Beverly
*Grim led with a hearty step, pacing the beach 'till the two reached a costal city. Costal cities were common, as maritime access was a valuable feature, especially for cities with river access as well- which described the general structure of the ahead town.*

*Instead of walking right in, though, he led the Corphish up a hill which overlooked the town and gave a view over the wooden walls.* "This is Sorrow of a Sorrow. Quaint town. It was divided right down the middle as part of a subdivision after the god-emperor's death.

"Shame. Territory here was split from each side of the stream for the sake of handing out territory. Little consideration was given towards what that meant for towns like this." *He poked up two feathers from his hand.* "Hence, there are two mayors, two sets of laws, two districts with their own leadership; and yet, one community. Despite everything, the towns get along well.

"Of course, the place is not that notable; otherwise, more consideration would have been given to its division." *He paused and mulled the story over.* "Luninarian territory. A population of a few hundred Pokémon, I'd reckon. They don't have a census. ... Well? What do you think?"