Terence
Tiny Vik
The Mizzen Market, Tonate Proper

Vik giggled at his first remark.

"To be fair, I'm a peculiar person."  He said.

"Tea is my favorite.  You can make it from almost every plant on Fagia.  But it doesn't stop there, once brewed, a tea can be changed again.  You can add honey, sugar, syrup, cream, or even milk to alter the taste and thickness of the tea."  He paused, taking another sip from his brittle cup.  "If you're patient, and know how to treat the tea, it's always worth the wait."

Another sip, Vik wanted to let Arin finish his speculations before answering, but he also had to think about it.  The last time he had an answer to this question, the world was young, and it seemed obvious that the strong helped the weak.  However he was now in a time where people relied on Kings, Lords, and even Clerics to help them.  These individuals had their power cemented over a history Vik slept through, so why did he want to help?

"I don't know if I have an answer you would accept, Arin.  In some ways I feel responsible for every mortal born under the sky, in other ways helping people reach their potential comes naturally to me like breathing does for you."  He stopped to peer down at his left hand, clenching and unclenching it in a fist as if he could see his purpose flowing through his veins.

"In truth, I don't think I could tell you.  Why does a Gazelle graze?  Why does a tiger hunt?  Why does the mosquito bite?  Why does the Tiny Vik help?  I suppose I can't even comprehend the why of it all, like it's some Cosmic purpose given to me by the Melody that Created."
Ora
Arin Cragton
Mizzen Markets

Arin scratched his head, his shaggy hair curling around his finger as he struggled with the idea that Vik was presenting him. As his mind struggled with the dilemma it had been presented with, he began to slowly understand in his own way. 

"I think I understand, but not particularly. You just help because it's right, or because you feel like you must, no?" He began drumming his hand on the table as he kept thinking. "I would do the same. Helping other people is one of the few things in my life that I can say I have done without asking for something in return. But still, I've accepted payment when I could. But you didn't. That's what confuses me." He said, looking at Vik. 

"But why me? Why do I deserve anything? How could you even help me? Because right now, things only seem to get worse, no matter what I do. I lose to someone because if I win, too many questions are asked. It doesn't make sense that you would want to help me. I've thanked you for what you have done, but I just don't see a way that you could help me more." He said, taking his last sip of tea.
Cedric
Caderyn Vortigern
The Ball, the Maith Mansion

The shouts of one captain, and then the next, and then the next drew Caderyn's grey eyes to and fro across the garden from person to person. He heard what they said, but his mind was still reeling from the gift that The Captain of the Guard had bestowed upon him. The polished, gleaming skull of Vronti Kelwynd. His brother's murderer, and the man the wretched people in the Southern Pantheon catered to to gain favor with. In an odd way, it was grimly satisfying, to see the one seemingly unstoppable, evil man reduced to a mere bobble to display. A talking piece. *'Bronze is too good for that beast's remains,'* Caderyn thought. For a moment, the soft warmth of Caderyn's blue-grey eyes diminished as he stared at the skull. For a moment, his gaze was unreadable.

Then, Bradai interrupted the shouts and Caderyn was pulled from his thoughts as the Pirate King's firm hand clasped his shoulder. Caderyn's long violet and silver robes fluttered in the warm island breeze as he nodded to the people in front of him with a smile. "I thank you for your most honorable gift, Captain Farensun,'' he said to Valkryn as he reached over and carefully took the skull. It felt smooth and glossy and cold. He turned to the people in the garden who were watching him, to the crews who had spoken up. "And I thank you all, for your valiant offers of passion and loyalty. They were truly inspiring: such fervor and strength in each of the words you spoke. But by no means would I be able to choose whom to give this skull to out of all the fine captains of the isles. Each of your records precede you."
** **

He paused for a moment, then turned to say something quietly to one of his guards beside him. The guard nodded, and then walked away. Caderyn turned to the crowd, still holding the skull. "This," He said with a voice that would carry, "Is the remains of Vronti Kelwynd. The man who killed my brother and his wife, the late King Caspian Vortigern and Queen Rhia Vortigern of Terresol, as well as my brother and the late Minister of Commerce, Castor Vortigern. This is the skull of the man whom the Southern Pantheon indulged after he murdered their king. They added his false god into their books, to please him." A crackle of ember shone in his eye as he added, "The god he claimed wanted my family to die. And though I know that it is my duty to hold the throne until the true heir comes of age, this is a gift-"

His words stopped as a small girl skipping alongside the guard came into his view. Her long black hair was braided intricately, and she was wearing a lovely yellow dress with golden silk slippers. Her blue eyes widened as she saw the crowd of people, and she halted her skips and instead began to walk with her head held high and her arms folded in front of her. Caderyn smiled despite himself as she walked towards him, the sound of grass shuffling beneath her feet. "You called for me, Uncle?" She asked in a careful, ladylike tone.

"I did," Caderyn said with a small smile. He handed her the skull, and her small hands held it as she gazed at it with wide eyes. She knew what it was, a skull, but she did not understand the weight of it. "This is a present from Captain Farensun," He told her. While his tone was honest, it was gentle. "It is what is left of the man who hurt your parents, all those years ago. I believe that you should be the one to keep it."
** **

"I see," Fleur said as she stared down at the bronzed bone. She looked back up at her uncle, then turned to Captain Farensun and bowed her head ever so slightly, a small smile on her lips. "Thank you kindly for your gift, Captain. I will treasure it."

"It's a great token of the determination, loyalty, and bravery to fight on behalf of one's ruler," Caderyn told her as he put a hand on her shoulder. "Whenever you gaze falls upon it, it should not only remind you of how many want to see you take your rightful place on the throne of Terresol, but also-" He gave her a small smile as he gently squeezed her arm- "Of how many people loved and cared for your parents, and how they now love and care for you."
John
Valria Drase
The Ball, Maith Mansion.

Valria entered the ball room, her heels clacking down the marbled floors of the room, navigating between those who were dancing, or simply enjoying themselves standing. Her dress dragged alongside her, attached to it a bejewelled sheath, made of the finest black leather. An ebony handle stuck out of the sheath, also covered in a plethora of jewels, which glimmered like the stars. She headed towards king Bradia, Gyavin in toe, before standing before the almighty Tide Bearer. She'd take a bow, waiting a moment before returning to her stand, and removed the sheath from her dress, presenting it to the king.

"My gift to you, a cutlass, almighty King Bradai, crafted for you of the finest materials." She unsheathed the cutlass, revealing an expertly crafted Damascus steel blade, ripples imprinted all over the fine metal. A scarlet red ribbon revealing itself, tied around the area where the blade connected to the bejewelled handle. She once again sheathed it, before handing it over to Bradai, in a bow, the blade raised above her head.
Felicia
```Cyprien de Lysse | The Maith Mansion```

The velvet lord made himself look comfortable, but he'd be lying if he said he was.

The servants wore masks of politeness over their faces and the food tasted bizarre. A distant akwardness hung over the dance floor and the coversations. Cyprien had begun to suspect that the Islanders were deliberately misinterpreting the King's orders to ensure that the honoured 'mainlander' guests understood how they were not a proper part of their world.

_"Tonate is a strange place with with strange customs."_ he reminded himself. But then the Maith captains begain to howl over Vronti Kelwind's skull. Cyprien had no love for the ursurper: but sending heads and bones, let alone gifting them, was befitting of savages.

To his relief, Caderyn handled the situation admirably: he denounced the ursurper, denounced the false god, and asserted his claim to the throne, and gave the skull to the princess. It was a fitting choice, despite the morbidness.

Some buckaneer came next. His wife, a tall and slender woman, offered the King a lavishly ornate scimitar. Cyprien could've sworn it was a ceremonial blade, up until her husband began to call for the slaughter of "Terresi dogs" That is.

And his own gift was nowhere to be found. He had already sent two of his aides to search for it, but to no avail. When word finally came of it's whereabouts, it wasn't from the mouth of any of the people Cyprien had tasked it's care to, but from the Lysse guard captain.

"He escaped the enclosure, Lord. My men had to bring him all the way back from that red district."

"Is he here?"

"Yes lord."

"Then what are you waiting for? Bring him at once!"

Cyprien stepped forward, and bowed before the king.

"Allow me to present my gift, in behalf of House de Lysse, and the people of Terresol," He added. Gyavin's earlier remark had not been forgotten.

The clacking sound of a slow trot could be heard across the hall as a white stallion crossed the entrance treshold. A magnifcent creature, unlike anything the Lysses had in their stables, for truth be told... It wasn't theirs. The stallion had been gifted to Cyprien by his vassals of House Koern, but he had considered that the animal would be of greater use here in the isles than as just another horse in the battlefield.
Now, he could only hope it would be of Bradai Maith's liking.