Shelly
Charity Lane
Castle Grunewald, Vallen

Just before reaching the Throne Room itself, she was stopped by the bard from the night before's performance. "No apology is necessary, your outburst is well warranted, as Kelwynd was not the best of men. Nor was it you that brought him up." The bard was the second person in so few minutes to refer to her as 'Your Majesty', a term that Charity knew was a traditional way to refer to a royal, but also a term that Charity disliked since she thought of herself as rather unmajestic, despite her penchant for dresses that offered more freedom of movement than the usual fashion presented.

Speaking of dresses it was then that the Queen noticed the Wisdom's change of dress, and how they were both now wearing green and gold dresses. She wondered if the Wisdom was trying to tell her something, or perhaps she was reading into it too much.

"Either way, it was a pleasure to meet you as well, one of the better bards I've seen, but I mustn't hold up the council, if you want to talk later, after the council would be best." And with that she bid the bard farewell and moved into the Throne Room. While looking for the closest seat to Anyanka Durkhan, she noticed the injuries that she had sustained. The Grand Duchess honestly looked to be in a bad shape, but she still attended the council. Charity hoped this was a sign that they looked worse than they were, rather than Anya not getting the proper rest she needed. Whatever happened to her the night before, she had a feeling it would be brought up as part of the council.
Lawrence
Kallophon Autelei née Dikegora AKA Kallophon of Milo or Kallophon of Ianna
Castle Grunewald, Vallen

Kallophon twinkled at Charity's compliment, inclining his head graciously. "Thank you." He expected that she would invite him to talk with her as they ascended the stairs, but his heart sank ten leagues deep when she chose to excuse herself instead and departed up the tower. He couldn't withhold a small frown of disappointment, and replied, "Of course, Your Majesty," With a somewhat weak voice.

He turned his attention to Serafina. She hadn't immediately followed their queen; perhaps she was interested in speaking to him? He summoned as much warmth as he could find inside his heart and gave her a genuine smile. "Wisdom," He acknowledged, and bowed slightly, offering her his palm to receive her hand. With her reciprocation, he gently pecked her knuckles. "It, um ... It comforts me to know that there's a leader of the faith here, in this 'heathen' land," Kallophon chuckled. He gestured towards the stairs. Confident, he moved from Soltongue to Old Soltongue, in which he sounded to be quite proficient. "I won't delay you, but I'd like to speak with you as we make our way to the throne room."
Michael
Wisdom Serafina 
Castle Grunewald, Vallen

'Yet, you married him and let him rule with his ridiculous Cult.' Serafina thought, a mask of pleasantry covering her face with the only hint of her disdain for the Queen being a fistful of her dress. The Wisdoms eyebrow rose in amusement as the Queen bade the bard farewell without further word. 

However, rather than follow the Terresolian ruler, the woman stayed behind. His greeting, followed by a kiss to the hand was drowning in flattery and she inwardly rolled her eyes. She didn't recall bards from the Abigreth being so theatrical. Nevertheless, the woman would not pass up the opportunity to converse with him. The tales and songs of a bard this talented coursing through Terresol and ringing in its people's ears would be beneficial if the proper story was told. 

"The Gods are always with us, even among those who are still blind." She replied, pulling her scarred hand back to her side. At his gesture, the woman gracefully moved towards the stairs, truthfully dreading the climb, and waited for him to join her. "Of course," She switched to Old Soltongue, "Will you be gracing us with another ballad during the council?"
Lawrence
Kallophon Dikegora
Castle Grunewald, Vallen

Kallophon noticed the scars on her hand. It didn't take him long to identify them for what they meant; he chose to hold his tongue on the matter.

He followed her. "I would not call what I played yesterday a 'ballad.' It was ... Oh, what was it? Ah yes, it was a 'hymn to Hema.' I excluded the lyrics." He scratched his neck. "And regarding what I'm about to play, this one is not much of a ballad either, though I will warn you that it's a much more sombre tune than the hymn. These are sombre times, however, and this especially is to be a sombre conference."

He looked down at the steps as he ascended, then found himself smiling. "I actually quite like that hymn. I do not know the lyrics well, I focus primarily on the tune itself. My interpretation is that the serene, sentimental parts are about birth, new life, maybe even the fresh sweetness of things like new love and one achieving a great success in one's livelihood endeavours, whereas the parts where my fingers make trembling notes are evocative of the uncertainty that comes with birth, do you understand? The chance of crop failure, or a miscarriage, or failure just at the cusp of success. It celebrates the superlative happiness that follows that uncertainty when things go well."
Michael
Wisdom Serafina
Castle Grunewald, Vallen

Serafina nodded her head in agreement when he mentioned the somber nature of the conference. The plague had infected all regions of Marin, to her knowledge, and she recalled the reports from Wisdoms in the outlying regions containing dreadfully high death tolls. She had not forgotten the names of those who died even recognising some from the villages she had lived in years ago. 'May their Mourning be short and their souls return to us.' 

As he spoke about the songs meaning, she could hear it replaying in her mind, focusing on the parts he was referring to. "The uncertainty of life makes the successes sweeter." She responded with a kind smile. "The hymn is lovely, if not narrow-sighted as the uncertainty of life continues until death. Some may argue it grows as we age." She paused for a moment, still moving up the stairs before continuing. "Why do you wear the symbol of Lockaster? It is unusual for a bard to worship the Faceless One."
Lawrence
Kallophon Dikegora
Castle Grunewald, Vallen

Kallophon shook his head. "No, no, I do not worship him in particular. Emin and Rueben would be my *Chief* Objects of worship. I don invocations of Lockaster and his subject matter because ... It is fitting."

He looked away. Part of him wanted to give her the other, fundamental reason, but he was wary of sharing it. Not now, with others nearby. Besides, it would be too sharp a turn. Before she could respond, he quickly changed the subject. "How fares Her Royal Majesty?" He looked up the stairwell. "It seems to be that she's somewhat on the rack, which is understandable. Though perhaps I shouldn't be making assumptions about our good queen."
Joann
**Siona O'Callaigh
Vallen, Taemar**

Siona watched as two men stumbled out of the tavern, jostling and bumping into one another as they laughed at their own drunkenness. She saw as Levi, as he called himself, looked over at them to apprehensively. Siona waited, hoping the men would pass by, and sighed to herself when instead they began to eye up a fourth man, passed out in a corner, (at least, she believed the man was passed out) and Levi spoke to them. "There is no value on him," He explained, trying to shoo the men away. Instead however, the men turned to them, and Siona groaned quietly as they began to argue with, and then pulled a knife on, Arin. 

Siona stepped back quickly when the men fell on "Levi," Getting well out of the way as the first man lunged at Levi and in turn was stabbed in the leg and neck. She watched with a mildly frustrated expression as Levi killed the man, knowing full well that now the guard would likely be called. 

She snapped her head up as a second man charged "Levi," Taking him off guard and forcing him to the ground. Siona stepped back once more, thinking over if she wanted to get involved or not, when Levi, blade grasped in his hands, looked over towards her and Marsila and begged for help. Siona waited a moment more, and made up her mind.

.
With a quick step forward, she swung her right leg behind herself before kicking with all the force she could muster, the crook where her shin met her ankle colliding into the side of the mans head, knocking him off of Levi. Rather than wait to let him get up, Siona decided to take the initiative, taking a second step forward and raising her foot into the air, and slamming it down on the mans neck one, two, and then three times, before stepping back and breathing heavily. She watched for a moment as the man lay on the ground, but didnt take the time to check and see if he was dead, before she looked at Levi and reached down to grab the back of his shirt and haul him upwards.

"Come on," She said to her two companions, "We should leave."