In a moment, the previous tension of annoyance and prejudice grew into an air of electric chatter. The high priestess leaned in slightly forward and clutched the end of her arm rests lightly. Regardless, if her immediate thought was something of baffling curiosity swirling with some unholy concoction of fear; it was more so remorse that<span style="font-style: italic">she</span>was at the table.<span style="font-style: italic">Light elves have the tendency to call a full court over a heard of <span style="font-weight: bold">si’allma</span> grazing too close to the gates</span>, she thought in haste. Seledora was not one to under-estimate herself but, her eyebrow flickered in the fantasy that her mother would come strolling in any minute.<br/><br/>Due to the sudden spike in voices, Izmeil made it a white sin to let her gaze wonder to what the dark-elf warrior was holding so upright. In a fraction of a second, she began whispering her higher apologies to the gods but could not look away. “H-how in the name of<span style="font-style: italic">Yg’Neershal</span>is he holding--” her own mutter was stopped immediately.<span style="font-style: italic">Did...did he kill it himself?</span>She could feel her veil glide over her eyelashes as her eyes continued to widen.<br/><br/>“Izmeil,” the priestess leaned over, covering her mouth with her gaze still fixed on the head of the creature. “Tell the guardsmen to fetch the swallows.” With that, a small scroll was passed into her palms. Izmeil bowed before turning to the double doors. She cracked them open and repeated the instructions softly. The guard walked off as Izmeil returned to her position beside the priestess. Her head was lowered but her eyes still transfixed on the table. The chatter continued with the council members; it consisted of elders, scholars, high members of the guard, generals and even chief merchants. “In the reign of Carnarus holds historical records of the encounter of demons,” spoke up one scholar. “Yes, but our Calendar would not guide us wrong. In no text does it state that in stars of Il’Clagdah signs of black misfortunes...” protested a more nasally scholar. The chatter got slightly elevated as the members bickered back and forth. “Yet, our all seeing Eye of Yg’Neershal has not lead us astray…” rose the voice of one female elder. “Though the teaching of the Crossing is cryptic, they are true. In the old songs, it sings of the time of Hrothmalgan.<span style="font-style: italic">A land without our law, mixes our yellow coats with the abysmal satin and they shall be known that of <span style="font-weight: bold">yhalnerish</span>”.</span><br/><br/>“If you speak of the divide, you speak unclear.” barked a general. He gave Aloth and his warrior a sharp, almost<span style="font-style: italic">distasteful</span>glance. “Hrothmalgan speaks of the warning of mixing a dividing our blood unlawfully. Which has been happening for almost two millenniums. Even before you,<span style="font-style: italic">Ghenish’dryll</span>.” The chatter almost erupted, in a mixture of agreeing and protest. Seledora stood from her seat with her hands firmly placed on the large table before her.<br/><br/>“My<span style="font-style: italic">Kehnmiri</span>,” she sighed, “I admire the opinions of you all. No opinion at this table is shameful. This is the law of our god of logic, Meleesh. The table in which we sit, the table I place my palms on is the table of true neutrality.” She took a moment to take a look at each member before her. “However, since we are at the Table of Truths, I am<span style="font-style: italic">merely secondary</span>.” With this, she gave a thoughtful look at Aloth. “If you will, I acquire you and your evidence in the presence of the<span style="font-style: italic">Fruuvalk</span>.” Seledora flashed a small scroll to Aloth, “they wish to see you.” The priestess bowed to the council members and they did in return as she exited with Izmeil close behind her.<br/>“Oh, and… our party members may not enter the private discussion chambers. I’m afraid no matter how close they are.”<br/><br/>Izmeil jumped slightly at the weight of her priestess’s words. She knew immediately that any form of protest was out of the question. The lashes Izmeil would receive if she eavesdropped made her give out a ever-so-quiet whimper. Seledora elegantly strolled down the corridor, as Izmeil turned to Aloth and his servant. She gave a curtsy, and left the door open for the guards to close after they followed. The priestess went down the hallway filled with the white flowers and historical stained glass that ended with two dark wood, massive doors. Upon her entering, Izmeil stayed a few respectful feet away from the doors of either chambers, seating herself on a stone bench. There...she waited. And prayed her curiosity didn’t betray her twice in one night...<br/><br/><br/>~<br/>Si’allma - deer-creatures that grow flower buds on their antlers during the spring.<br/>Yg’Neershal -- Light Elvish All Mother goddess<br/>Yhalnerish -- light elvish tongue for Fox/Foxes<br/>Ghenish’dryll -- “RatKing”, the derogatory name for Aloth<br/>Kehnmiri -- Light Elvish for “kinsmen” or “family”<br/>Fruuvalk -- “The Crown”, referring to light elvish reigning king and/or queen