Lillie
Scylla had not been looking towards the king or the wayshirine when her youngest sister materialized from the mist of the portal. Her gaze had drifted to the other princesses in the room and to the room itself. The architecture itself was new to her, the people, and the accents. She'd heard travellers speak with the rules of their language in hers, but she'd never been surrounded by odd tongues. When she was Auriel Scylla ceased to breath, as if holding her breath could freeze the moment before the young aasimar could wreck it. Immediately the princess felt dread, the pit of her stomach cemented and her neck and cheeks radiated heat. Her copper eyes trained on the king but her face had not changed from it's amicable mask. She waited for her sister to fail, it had been trained into her at this point. There had been a point in time where she'd held hope for the girl, even patience to endure Auriel's thoughtless nature; now she just expected disappointment. To her surprise her sister wasn't the bull in a china shop Scylla had come to expect, she'd done well. The older princess felt the heat in her face leave, but her body refused to relax it was only a matter of time before the younger girl messed up. In that moment she felt pride, but the other shoe would drop soon enough.

When Auriel presented the king with ambrosia Scylla nearly opened her mouth to protest. Ambrosia was sacred, a fruit presented to her kingdom by the gods meant for them alone and the conflict stirred inside her. Tradition and conditioning from her childhood made sharing such a thing with outsiders feel wrong, it pushed her to act and instead she bit her tongue and stayed in place. Her better judgment held her mouth closed and her feet to the spot she stood. It was not just to keep something to themselves, and sharing it was a gesture of respect. Though these people had in fact done nothing as of yet to deserve such a gesture.

All people deserved respect of course, until they proved otherwise; this offering her sister presented King Astalios showed far more respect than he deserved at this point. If he proved unworthy of such a gesture she'd set things right, as The Sword of Kamara it was her duty and Scylla would happily fulfill her purpose.

When Astalios addressed her Scylla dipped her head in acknowledgment and proceeded into the circle when Cyrus had finished. Standing in the circle she began as the king had requested, "I am Scyllakhalari Preavada, Princess of Kara-tur and Sword of Kamara. My full intentions at this meeting are..." She paused to give the statement thought and to choose her words carefully "My full intentions at this meeting are to understand this supposed threat that was made known at the Sorvelle festival and to gain an insight on how best to proceed with Kara-tur's relations with the land kingdoms" That felt true enough as the words left her lips. She stepped out of the circle and began to follow her twin away catching his long look at the princesses of which she followed and appraised them briefly herself. Scylla did not leave though, instead she paused to observe her sister's response in the circle.
David
_For sure the girl knew her arrival would likely draw the ire of her siblings, especially that of her elder ones. Yet the sheer intensity of the stare she felt on the back of her head was more than she could have ever expected, for sure she would be in for it later but as long as there were others around hopefully any punishment would wait until they were back on the other side of the wayshrine. Keeping her expression as cheerfully open as she could given the situation she eagerly glanced around, taking in the strange architecture, the guards and the princesses.Everything was just so **Different** To Kara-Tur, it was new and exciting and all rather grand in her opinion._ 

_Walking over to the guards she presented the basket of gifts gracefully, offering a charming smile as she almost went to continue before she started, snapping a finger as if suddenly remembering for in truth she had almost forgotten the weapons she took almost everywhere. Her smile was a little sheepish as she turned back to the guards before fiddling with a ring on her other hand, with that a set of ten large metallic rings appeared in her hands, engraved with jade and golden runes as she presented them with a small 'sorry' to the guards. Curiously if the guard took them they would find they were much heavier then they initially looked with the slim figured woman holding them easily, each ring weighed about a kilogram for a total of ten kilos of weight that she passed off without a second thought._

** **
_She barely had enough time to think as she approached the circle, blinking as she mentally recited the words the king had told her to start with, gods above she was nervous. Remembering things word for word when they were told verbally had never been her strong suit, even on paper she tended to mess up the orders of words when trying to read from them, it wasn't her fault the letters always moved on their own! However she had to do this, she had to get it right - so firmly she stood and took a breath. Offering a silent prayer to Ora and Gritka to make her words right as she spoke, her brow slightly narrowed as she spoke her answer._

"I am Princess Auriel Vivianne Praevada of Kara-Tur, my full intentions at this meeting are as follows. To support my siblings in their investigations into the happenings and potential threat towards us all that occurred at the Sorevelle festival in the Kingdom of Thyseer. Further it is my personal desire to see the land kingdoms with my own eyes and support my family in making the best first impression in our visit and in forging friendships and alliances with the kingdoms our people have ignored for so long, and to also help my siblings personally make good impressions as people because well... We are not all people... People? I'm not sure that makes sense, but anyway I think that's everything... Also I was really curious about these lands because well... I don't get out much... Wow these circles really work don't they?"

** **
_She looked down at the circle in a little awe as she trailed off somewhat, blinking in surprise as she moved off to join her siblings, offering a silent 'sorry' and an apologetic shrug as she waited for the rest of their party to follow suit. Sue she had said a lot, but it was all the truth and she didn't think it was **Too** Bad. At least she hoped not, it was hard to be sure as she was busy looking around with her eyes. Taking in all the sights as she stood just a little away from the older Aasimar, her eyes flicking between her brothers and the princess in question as she barely managed to contain a smirk. Not many grabbed his attention like that, but curiously this one seemed to - a fact she would store away for later use._
Isabel
*All was not entirely well upon the floating islands, he gathered. As the princess's brother caught sight of her, his expression said much that was not spoken. Perhaps he had disapproved in some way. If that was the case, there was certainly no indication the same could be said of her sister. Princess Scyllakhalari's expression was unmoving, as if nothing particularly unusual had happened. There was some discord here, he thought, between them, though he could draw few conclusions about what the root cause happened to be. 

At least their plans at this meeting were in line with the rest of them, and as Prince Cyrus spoke his intentions, he was again reminded that they came from a world much different than that of the large majority of the continent. Princess Scyllakhalari's gaze at the area behind him reminded him that castles were no use in defense against a force that could land inside the walls, and he had to imagine that tunnels and caves upon the sky islands were much better defenses. In a way, this trip was more than simply an emergency meeting. For them, it was a chance to explore. 

Of course, that was not the main purpose - and during the meeting, he would brook no mention of anything but the current topic - but when it was concluded, in return for the ambrosia, perhaps he could arrange a few books as a parting gift - a collection of encyclopedias of flora and fauna. Even a description of notable natural wonders would serve. He could not let his mind stray from the topic, however, and as the tall princess stepped into and out of the circle of truth, he was faced with another reality - that they were being judged just as surely as they were judging the Kara-Tur party, and this was only a first step in the greater sphere of politics. 

The weapons offered to his guards on the third sister's part were most curious - he had to assume they were magical, for the density of the metal was much higher than he had anticipated.*

_ _
*He could sense the gold that contributed to their color, iron, lead, and another metal he could not perceive. Perhaps zinc, he thought. It would be well suited to alloying with iron, though he could not quite fathom why the other materials were present. He had, in his years at the Alchemical Association, done much of the research on the strengths of such alloys, but there was nothing he could discern about this particular mixture that might be useful save for its weight. Curious indeed. Perhaps they were akin to training weights.

As she stepped into the circle, and began to speak, he was reminded of the efficacy of a Circle of Truth, for not only had he asked her to speak her intentions, but to speak her **Full** Intentions. The resulting ramble was proof that the spells were active, and for that he was grateful. Forging friendships and alliances, helping her siblings to make good impressions... It was all spoken as if this was a large party, and not a meeting about a threat that had invaded the minds of the royalty present, shown him a vision, forced him to consider speaking to... 

**Take up the sword.** The words Anthron had spoken to him when his vision had ended echoed within his mind now as a memory. He restrained himself from a shiver. Strength, he told himself. What the world needed to see was strength. How else would he be able to convince them to unite? They needed to pull together.*

_ _
"...Before you go, Your Highnesses." *He spoke quietly and calmly to Princess Auriel, though nominally to the others as well, a somber tone to his voice.* "It is heartening to hear your intentions here. I cannot promise, however, that the conversation will be pleasant. Nor can I promise sightseeing. It is not a happy occasion that I have called this meeting to discuss. Please accept my apologies on that account, and my thanks that you have chosen to attend. Perhaps on another occasion, when this situation has been dealt with, we may satisfy more of your wishes to see the land kingdoms."

*As the guards led the Kara-Tur party onward, he found himself returning to thoughts of the night, the eye of terror in the sky, the collapse of Caleesi, the awkward dance that had preceded it. His gaze briefly flickered towards his Mistress of Magic. She stood normally for the moment, presenting herself as any other minister, but she had experienced the horrors of that night as much as any of them. He was still unaware of the reason the visions had locked her into them for longer. An uneasy feeling picked at him - the unknown was never comfortable. With knowledge came the ability to form a plan of action, but they had been able to gather slim to none...

Not to mention that his secret had been finally found out, and the queen that had done so was no one he trusted. A disaster, he decided, returning his eyes to the wayshrine. But this was their way to remedy that.*
Santa
A flash of black shot from the wayshrine, dividing upon its arrival into a pair of ravens. They circled several times, each repetition of the movement pushing them nearer the courtyard's borders. The grounds were thoroughly scrutinized, the bird's gaze raking over every face and flower from above. With the area sufficiently scouted they barked out a harsh caw in unison, returning to the gateway of their origin to flank their arriving master. 

From the wayshrine emerged the queen of Lazaroth, attended by her Master of Laws and Spy Master. They perhaps seemed an unlikely choice, especially considering *Recent events*, but both were trusted and capable in such a setting. Dhakashira lacked the guard escort of other royals, whether this was due to confidence in herself or in their host was left to be interpreted by others.

Her attire was as dark as the wings of her feathered companions, and carefully embroidered with silver thread that mimicked the markings on her skin. It was as though she were enveloped by the night sky itself, adorned with its many constellations. Her golden gaze slid slowly over Alynthi's royalty and representatives, finally resting on their king. Her head dipped, hair spilling over bare shoulders, as she greeted him.
_ _

"Your Majesty," When her chin rose Dhakashira's eyes were fixed on those of increasingly familiar brown, searching, seeking answers to questions usually answered by her magic. Out of respect she did not release the tendrils of her intuitive sorcery, did not permit them to brush the outer limits of his mind and relay every inkling of emotion, "I can only imagine the immense pressure placed on all of you to host an event of this magnitude, you have our sincerest gratitude for taking on the task." Ensuring the safety and comfort of all those arriving was no small feat, but she was confident in Alynthi's ability to do so. Though it was difficult to shake the nagging worry that their minds would be penetrated once more, it seemed none could prevent it, yet.

She was pleased to see the Iron King, it allowed an opportunity to share information outside of the written words they'd exchanged since Sorevelle. Some things were better expressed in person, and others best left out of correspondence that had the potential for being intercepted. 

Quite familiar with zones of truth she was quick to recognize the one set before her and its purpose. Queen Runacri stepped forward with no hint of hesitation, looking to the king as she awaited further instruction. The Matriarch of Wolves was far less feral than his people had likely imagined. These events demanded decorum, and she would act accordingly. Though upon her arrival home it would be like slipping off an article of clothing that was much too tight, a relief to revert to her less dignified nature. As she stood before him the dark elf dismissed her scouts with a subtle movement of her hand. The birds were snuffed out, leaving nothing more than small, billowing clouds of shadow that would soon dissipate. 
_ _
Marty
As the beautiful Mother of Wolves stepped from the portal, another large cloud of menacing black fog would rise up behind her, making way for her *Real* Crows. Slithering out of the wayshrine like his pet snake that accompanied him was none other than Corinthian, The Cruel Lord and Spy Master of Lazaroth. Azazar sweeped beside him in a hissing fashion, her long and massive form almost the size of a beastwalker. Nevertheless, the obsidian reptile kept her place beside her master, eyeing the crowd with a cold and venomous gaze. She was no threat to anyone though, not unless the high lord wished her to.

Corinthian himself was far more calm and collected than he had been the night of Thyseers horrific tragedy. What once was a ruthless, vengeful, and careless Councilor– Now stood a reserved and alert member of his kingdom. Corin's hands held one another tightly behind his back as he strode in behind his queen, the pits of his black eyes floating carefully around the courtyard; if only examining every inch of detail Alynthi provided. Naturally, the darklings gaze would fall back onto Ashira– his mind recalling the night of her *Almost* Untimely demise. 

*How he called for her in a heap of fear and panic*. Oh, how he hated that feeling. Looking over her features here in the gentle winds of morning dusk, Dhakashira seemed as radiant and alive as ever; almost as if she was never fazed in recent events. A flicker of worry pinched at the half elf's temples, the ache in his shoulder still faint, yet a constant reminder that the two of them could have easily met their fate... Locking his jaw in an attempt to wash away any sidetracking thoughts he knew Ashira could easily delve into, Corinthian remained sharp and alert. His face masked in a serious deadpan.
_ _

The Cruel Lords attire mirrored the queens in elegance and style. Just like the crows that disbursed before them, a thick layer of jet black feathers lined Corinthians shoulders; the tufts of the hand sewn fabric aligning each point upwards to express the male's long, broad figure. Upon his chest lay two layers of the finest garments in Lazaroth. Suited in all black, Corins undershirt mimicked that of a sun elf waltzing in the sand. Its loosely fitted sleeves puffed towards the wrists, whilst every other inch cinched inwards to create the dazzling figure of the high lord's form. Atop the rather revealing piece however, was a black vest; light gray swirls and symbols embedded in the stitching that represented his kingdom decorated along the front. 

As Corinthian made his way closer towards the front of the group, taking in each face that greeted him, only two stood out so prominently. Caleesi Scarleth stood at a distance– Like the golden magic that swirled softly in his eyes, her blonde hair was every hue from white-spun sun to golden browns, all married into long flowing locks. While the counselor had little to no information about the woman, just that she had meant a great deal to Lysanthir– There was no doubt her beauty and grace could entangle you in. It took a great deal of restraint for Corinthian to not shift his gaze towards the vampire beside him. As he was sure Lysanthir was no doubt sinking his teeth into the presence of her alone. Nevertheless, he pushed on from the woman and set his sights towards the host, king Astalios. 
_ _

There was always something about the newly found king that set the darkling on edge. Perhaps it was the jagged stone expression of pure emptiness that sat upon his face, or maybe the idea that he truly didn't care about anyone or anything. Alas, that would be decided by the end of this meeting no less. Corin knew the gathering was about the visions, and while he knew them all to be true, the thought of holding each kingdom together long enough to show that fact did put a chaotic pep in his step. 

A small, wry smirk peaked the edges of the high lord's lips as the king's cold gaze collided with his own. Looping his arm across his chest in formal respect, Corinthian bowed lowly. Soft jingles from the many rows of golden chains and jewels that decorated his elven ears chimed as he lifted his head forwards– locking those black orbs into a pool of muddy brown. "Your Majesty," The darkling crooned, his tone low and sharp. As Corin stood upright, he ran a hand through the front of his hair. Wavy black curls fell into place around the golden half laurel circlet he always wore, each pattern of leaves shining under inky tresses. "It is truly a pleasure to be here..." 
||
Sophie
The final form to emerge from the inky-black wayshrine was the tallest figure of the group and eldest; Lord Lysanthir Tauriel Olagwyen, Lazaroth's Master of Laws. While his appearance wasn't nearly as elaborate as that of the queen's or Spymaster's, his presence was enough to convey the very same, chilling feelings. After all, he was quite literally a dead man walking. It only took mere milliseconds for Lysanthir to get a look around the courtyard, study every face and understand who could be potential threats and who were not. His eyes of icy blue didn't even look as though they had moved all that much to the average eye; one of the perks of being an undead blood-drinker. Lysanthir's gaze fell fully on Astalios first, and without hesitation the vampire offered a deep bow in his direction, followed by a simple greeting as his long blonde hair fell forwards.

"Your majesty." Standing upright once more, Lysanthir watched in silence as Dhakashira spoke, but was quick to realize she was standing within a Circle of Truth. Understanding the matters ahead, Lysanthir respected Astalios's desire to be secure and sure all would go well. Even in Lysanthir's hundreds and hundreds of years, there had never been a summit involving every royal party from every corner of the world. There were unfamiliar smells in the air, something sickly sweet like wine, perhaps even tarts? Turning his gaze towards the path leading to where the summit would likely fully take place, Lysanthir was surprised to see tall pairs of wings rounding the corner. Kara-Tur must have accepted the invitation after all. What a historic day, though it wasn't as if it was Lysanthir's first.

_ _
Dressed in both elaborate but simple armor, Lysanthir was wearing something he had worn many times before. Silver in color, the armor was as beautiful as one might expect, but obviously from a time long ago. Twin pauldrons rest upon his shoulders, slowly dipping down in layers of armored plates. The pauldrons clasped onto his shoulders also held a long cape flowing down Lysanthir's back, a slightly darker gray to the rest of the armor, but blood red on the inside. The chest piece's filigree danced up Lysanthir's form, both sides perfectly identically mirrored to the other. On his arms and wrists were guards, decorated similarly to the front of his chest piece, though his hands were only covered in black gloves. On his lower half were simple gray pants, followed quickly by tall armored boots once again matching his chest piece.

The final noteworthy piece upon Lysanthir's form was the circlet that wrapped around his head. Starting thicker from the back, each side that wrapped around his head gradually grew thinner before coming to a final point at the center of his forehead and hairline, decorated with a sky blue centerpiece. With such an appearance, one might assume Lysanthir was armed as well, but this was not the case. In fact, he felt almost naked without his twin blades at his sides, but knowing Astalios as little as he did, Lysanthir just knew weapons would inevitably be confiscated. It was best to come with the assumption things would be peaceful amongst the attendants as well, right?

_ _
For but a flicker, Lysanthir's eyes fell upon a face he had seen when he first exited the wayshrine; Caleesi. For the fleeting second he looked upon her, Lysanthir took note of the worry in her eyes, though that was to be expected. Today's summit wasn't exactly for celebration or joy. It was a time of uncertainty, a feeling Lysanthir figured hardly any of the royalty present were familiar with, save for perhaps Astalios given how quickly he became king. Nevertheless, Lysanthir remained still beside Corinthian and the blasted snake he felt the need to bring. There was a spiteful part of Lysanthir that wished and hoped the king would forbid the beast from entering the meeting room, but Corinthian could prove to be quite a stubborn and unruly toddler at the best of times. Now was not the time for one of his tantrums.

From the time the letter arrived inviting Queen Dhakashira to the summit to the moment Lysanthir stepped out of the wayshrine, the vampire had little time to reflect on the possibilities of what could have taken place during Sorevelle. It was a funny thing to Lysanthir, living forever but running out of time...
Isabel
*The ravens appearing through the wayshrine, he thought, was an intelligent touch - just as he was prepared to receive combatants, she made sure that she was not caught unawares by any trap he could set. There was no arrogance about her, he thought - and that made her all the more dangerous. It was one thing to deal with an incompetent enemy, and quite another to deal with a sensible one. That information was filed away neatly for the moment - ravens, he thought. One could never be too careful with ravens, now. 

When the queen appeared, however, he was somewhat disgusted to see that she had brought both of her creatures with her. From their conversations, she had at least seemed reasonable, but considering the debacle at Sorevelle, he had thought that both of them might have been left behind. It was unlikely that she did not know what she was doing here - and therefore, he also had to wonder what purpose she could possibly have in bringing them other than to make a show of some kind.

Her dress was a new design, thankfully - wearing a golden ribcage full of hollowed out spaces for bones was not a particularly good message to send at a peace conference, nor was it a particularly good choice for a ball. It was, he had to admit, stunning needle-work, and the silver thread, along with her general features, went together well. A coordinated appearance. Her eyes moved slowly until they fixed on his, perhaps a reminder of the knowledge she was privy to.

It chilled him to the bone, in a way - trust was such a frightening burden to place on a stranger, and with the beginning of his reign being as it was, he had not even trusted his advisors for as long as he could see them. At least he had audited their incomes and gotten to know them better - this queen was still much unknown, and what he did know of her did not bode well, save for the fact that she seemed reasonable in all but her choice of councilors.*

_ _
*A snake slithered in besides the second form to emerge from the wayshrine, and his eyes flickered down to it for the moment. Familiars were all the rage in many places, and though he had none, he could understand the utility - a second pair of eyes, a weapon if need be, a body to throw at the enemy while you made your escape. It was almost as slippery as the man it followed, clad in tufts of puffed black fabric, smirking like a petulant child. There was something about the expression on his face - the suggestion of a smirk on anyone's face, really - that ground against his temper. Self-satisfied superiority. The tone of his voice was too oily for it to be anything else. 

Then the third member of the party emerged, and the king resisted the urge to pull his upper lip into a snarl of disgust, keeping his face as stern as it had been. Since Sorevelle and Thunder Fest, he had been quite convinced he had seen enough of what passed for a Master of Laws, this crooked creature who had not proven himself capable of behaving with even the most basic of boundaries. At the latter festival, he had cornered his Mistress of Magic during the fireworks, reminded her perhaps forcibly of her parents' death. He still had little idea what she had been thinking when he continued to make advances at Sorevelle.

They bowed and made proper homage, these creatures that the queen had brought, but he was unlikely to forget their behavior soon. Cold were his eyes, as unmoving steel.*

"Your Majesty. Welcome to Alynthi. My thanks for your kind words." He inclined his head in return, tone controlled, but as respectful as he could muster given the subjects in front of him. "Your Graces. My guards will collect any weapons brought. Dismiss any familiars or animals, as they will not be needed within the meeting."

_ _
"Please step into the Circle of Truth, and state your name and full intention in attending this meeting, beginning with the phrase 'My full intentions at this meeting are'. Once that is accomplished, the chamber is along the path lined with guardsmen, who will see you to it."
Santa
No amount of magic was required to detect his displeasure upon the arrival of her companions. She would not waste their time or lower herself to the point of offering explanations, the choice had been made. Few others could be trusted with her own secret, or the burden of ensuring she did not endanger the life of herself or those gathered. The Hym possessed queen had gained excellent control of her unwelcome companion, but in times such as these she could not risk even a minimal mistake. The reassurance of her councilors' presence and combined skills were worth the dissatisfaction of others. 

She acknowledged what was asked of them with a swift nod, briefly spreading her arms in a display of openness, "There are no weapons on my person," Both due to her inclination toward summoning and his expected precautions, "I am Queen Dhakashira Runacri of Lazaroth, my full intentions at this meeting are to thoroughly investigate the events that occurred at Sorevelle, as well as assess relationships between kingdoms and determine how we will face our shared enemy." She could be speaking of either unwelcome invader, the one that forced visions upon them or that which plagued Astalios himself. The simple statement ensured her honesty, keeping secret her desire to further explore his unusual connection from all but the king himself. He would likely piece together both intended meanings. Perhaps some hope of freeing him and herself drove the woman's interest.

Stepping aside she settled at the path's start, to either be summoned back to the circle of truth for further questioning or await the answers of her own people. Her head was held high, shoulders pulled back while she observed those who accompanied the king. Her gaze lingered on the Grandmistress of Magic, a new curiosity creeping over her. One that would be suppressed until the day's end, at the very least. She cast a look toward the meeting chambers, wondering what awaited them.