<div align="center">Serin</div><div align="center"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 8pt;">(Day One)</span></div><br/>Serin watched Loras step up to the table, almost with care. The king was not at all self-cautious over the picks of food but very much interested in discerning what kind of person this mercenary was. Out of peculiar interest for witnessing a man picky over food and not comfortable enough to take a seat, his eyebrow rose. Of course, there were many different possible reasons under the sun as to why Loras directly, yet indirectly, accepted the breakfast invite as such. As a king, the position required dealing with all types of people and one quickly learns to never judge a sellsword by its cover. So he raised a hand and scratched the side of his nose while Loras took his fruit to the balcony’s edge, deciding to account it for the man’s style and not so much as the man’s pride.<br/><br/>Serin picked up his glass of wine. More than Loras might realize the king desired nothing less than to get straight to business. But that would be slightly foolish. Loras and his gang of men might not be fit for the task in more ways than one. Surely Loras could discern he was standing within Serin’s scrutinizing test.<br/><br/>“How is your livelihood coming along?” He started, joining the merc at the breath of the balcony’s view. “It is inevitable that Isadoln will be infested with dragons soon, as it is that season of age. I can imagine many mercenaries will make a fine living fighting them off.” He swirled the wine around in the glass, watching the velvety colors catch the skylight as well as the shadow of the Benevolence Tower. “I wonder if your men would follow you into a fire breathing lair?”<br/><br/><br/><div align="center">Dasyra</div><div align="center"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 8pt;">(Day One)</span></div><br/>Even across the short distance between, the sudden opening of the eagle’s yellow eye put a jolt of surprise in Dasyra. It instantly reminded her of Estaris’ beloved sun rising above the horizon as a disc of gold. It also immediately conveyed the intention of alarm, and Ralos chirped like a sparrow and rumbled in his chest of increasing distress. Both realizing at the same time the eagle was alive, not dead.<br/><br/>Dasyra hardly paid any attention to the revealed woman that had been tucked in the folds of the giant’s wing. I mean, details like that kind of fade into the background when you suddenly find yourself as a target and your stomach as heavy as a sick rock. The bird was bigger than she had thought at first, and its wings spurred torrents of air that disturbed her long hair even from where she was at. The distance closed rapidly, too rapidly, and the eagle tucked its wings above for an aggressive dive.<br/><br/>Poor Ralos would have took to the sky long ago if the eagle hadn’t of claimed it first. The moloch was, excluding wings, bigger then a horse but not nearly close to the size of the eagle. It hunkered to the ground baring daggered teeth like that of a fish and spread its leathery wings out wide before the ground. Beady, black eyes fearfully followed the flight of the eagle and it swished its whip-like tail as if preparing to defend itself against another rivaling moloch. Much out of reaction and not thought, Dasyra was pulling the lengthy dagger out of its leathered sheath knowing there was no time to set an arrow to bow.<br/><br/>Fortunately the eagle prematurely cut the dive, snapping Dasyra’s attention to the voice that called out after it. She blinked, partly wondering where this woman came from yet vaguely remembering her tucked under the feathered wings of the bird before it lifted off. She didn’t bother to fix her own hair now slightly askew from the beating wings of the eagle but stared at the girl with green eyes full of confusion and lingering fear. The elf was rightfully alarmed, and while the stranger seemed concerned enough for the apparent misunderstanding she couldn’t help but remain cautious. Her vision flickered over Ghin’s figure and clothing, trying to make something out of this mess. Then after a quick glance towards Ralos who continued to hunker and chirp with distress, she replied with a soft tone a little more collected. “We are alright.”<br/><br/>Returning her dagger to the sheath she fixed the bow on her shoulder. “Thanks for stopping…your eagle.” It felt odd to say, but then again nothing was normal about this situation. “What exactly is your purpose here? Where are you headed?” So many questions… so many were spiraling around in her head. Dasyra was wearing nothing to espy her as a soldier, not while on scout duty. Her clothing was leather and linen, snug close to her body to accent and not hinder her lithe, elven frame. Worn boots, a light cape, fingerless gloves, and a dainty necklace…nothing with any insignia. However her weapons were a different story. The arrows were feathered violet and red; two of Estaris’ empire colors. Her dagger was comfortably hilted in yellow and pearl stones mirroring the remaining two empire colors gold and white. She carelessly tucked a few strands of yellow hair behind her pointed ear and added with a tone absent of any threatening pitch though smartly, “This eagle does not belong in Estaris.”<br/><br/><br/><div align="center">Kesmon</div><div align="center"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 8pt;">(Day One)</span></div><br/>Kesmon grinned lightly, watching his fingers set to the task of pulling apart a slice of meat or two. In such a way he allowed Amarin’s returned jests to brush off his shoulder, glancing briefly with a nod of acknowledgment to the King’s toasted goblet, still playing along with the game. The thought of palace halls fringed with passionate cries was a comical one and Kesmon’s grin widened, wondering if those ardent lusts would be cries belonging to Amarin or the woman. Too bad Kesmon had no interest sitting as head during court, or listening to the miniscule troubles of Nautali.<br/><br/>He offered nothing but a ‘Hm..’ in response to Amarin’s self conviction of weak delegation, too. Instead, a torn slice of meat was plopped into his mouth to which he hungrily chewed. Some saw the busy schedule as a reflection of a diligently applied King; in return, a comfort to citizens. Delegation was also a sensitive subject because the underlying question was who could be trusted with responsibility? So really the weakness may not be a weakness at all. To Kesmon though, there were times when it did seem as a setback for his friend.<br/><br/>A good drink from his glass goblet swallowed the meat down. The wine tasted good. His dark hued eyes widened over the rim towards Amarin in excited agreement to discuss happier things:<em> Lima!</em>He sat the glass down while listening to the King, knowing that his face was smiling from ear to ear. Amarin’s exhilarated pleasure over this girl was contagious and Kesmon couldn’t help but derive satisfaction from the hope that she could be the one. He tossed him a honey cake or two, flipping them underhand to put a challenging spin into the toss, and then lounged back into the chair chuckling. “Don’t you worry about where I find them. I cannot be giving you all of my tricks and charming contacts or I would be less one challenging hobby to pursue.”<br/><br/>“You can always rely on your right hand m’Lord, but some things your right hand cannot do that your left hand can.” He winked. “This, if I’m not mistaken, brings us back to your expertise in delegating responsibilities. A King needs a left hand just as sure as he needs a hearty meal on his plate.” Kesmon dropped his eyes to a grape and picked it up between two fingers. “If four favored is what it takes to move your approval towards one then it shall be so. Be assured it amuses me to make such arrangements for my friend. It is not every day I get to combine matchmaking with work, and it worries me that you might grow old and die in a cold bed. No man deserves a fate like that.”<br/><br/>He plopped the grape in his mouth and broke its juices with his teeth. After a moment of eating a few he noticed how Amarin’s mood sobered, and then inquired a question regarding Ghin. Kesmon did not fully understand the details of the situation but knew it troubled Amarin’s mind. Softly he replied, believing anything might help. “Supposedly a dragon was spotted in Nor’s skies headed west towards Estaris. I am no expert on history, but I do not recall the dragons suddenly popping up in the middle of Isadoln without invading her shores first. Not everyone in Nor has seen a giant eagle but a few have, and one witness claims that the creature was no dragon at all but an eagle. Other than this rumor I have heard nothing else regarding our runaway representative.”<br/>