<div align="center">Loras, Day 1 - Morning</div><br/>Though not all who pass through a royal's immediate domain look the part of nobility, it was nonetheless a difficulty to overlook the presence of a mercenary idling in one of the waiting chambers of the King of Estaris. He hardly fit the part of, well, anything appropriate to the scenery. His clothing, mostly dark-colored leather, weather-beaten and faded in patches, bore myriad straps and harnesses intended to hold any number of weapons which, for obvious reasons, were not permitted to remain in his possession for the duration of this visit. He hadn't bothered to argue about it: this wasn't the first time Loras had dealt with folk eminently concerned with their own safety. Besides, it was flattering to be considered a threat while surrounded by any number of guards without access to his force, the bulk of which had been politely commanded to wait outside the city during this meeting. Hard to be insulted by such precautions taken on account of your potential.<br/><br/>It was probably protocol for any armed visiting force, but Loras didn't let that likelihood bother him.<br/><br/>He was flipping through a nothing book about something to do with the nation's artistic background and blah de blah when one of those primpy victims-in-waiting popped in and waved him to the door. "The King will see you now."<br/><br/>Dressed in his fine colors and sparkles, the King certainly looked his title. Fancy enough leastways. He'd met a few merchants looked about as rich in certain parts of Nor now and then, but they were all surface and show. This guy had it, whatever it was. Good on him then. That should mean he's the type to pay his debts, all things going well. Loras didn't take a seat right away when invited; he roamed the breakfast banquet with his hands, not quite touching, feeling his way along the air around the food until he came upon a ripe-looking bit of fruit and snatched it up to start peeling bare-handed. "I'm not one to pass up a meal," he said. His voice was solid but not heavy. A fine tenor, maybe, if he were the type to sing.<br/><br/>Nor was he the type to push when not on a schedule: if this king wanted to sit down and have a chat over fine foods before getting to business, that suited the mercenary just fine. Opportunities like these were rare enough to take his time enjoying them as they came. No skin off his nose if it didn't come to work in a hurry; he wasn't the one who needed something done.<br/><br/>He bit into the citrus on his way toward the balcony's edge, surveying the view from that lofty perch. He could almost make out his troop's camp from there. He couldn't quite, but the fire's smoke was clear enough. Much too far to be of use if things went sour, but why should they? If everything about the invitation was as sweet as the fruit, things were looking up for Loras' sellswords.<br/><br/><br/><div align="center">Amarin, Day 1 - Early afternoon</div><br/>Kesmon had a way of making his king feel out of place when wearing a serious expression. He couldn't help but crack a smile at his friend's increasingly inappropriate remarks clashing with his doting behavior, eventually ending both with a raised hand. "Enough, Kes, I get the message: I will devote all of my time to filling the halls with passionate cries and<em>you</em>can spend all day with tears of another kind listening to the kingdom's many woes as you are so eager to do." He raised his goblet to toast the idea, making it all but official decree! That is, if they weren't sitting alone, joking among themselves.<br/><br/>After a few hungry swallows he set the drink aside. "Delegation is still a weakness of mine, I know," Amarin said, "but how can I stand by and watch when there is so much to do? I sit at the head of this kingdom for a reason. I must act to that end." He shook his head; it was nothing Kesmon hadn't heard before. "Let us speak of happier things: Lima! Wherever did you find her? At first I thought it was perhaps a joke you were playing, sending me a girl like that, but the things she could...there is<em>something</em>about her, something of absolute delight. I cannot know yet whether she would make a good partner for me at the throne, but if not, then without fail she is to be the first of my ladies of skin. The title suits her best for many reasons, I dare say. Oh, toss me one of those!"<br/><br/>A few aerial trades of biscuits and spreads - it had long been a game of theirs, though one that was best played without courtiers to witness such flouting of formality now that he had an example to set - saw the King fit to complete his breakfast as he liked best: a balance of sliced meats, diced fruit, honeyed bread and fine wine. A mixture of decadence and strength was needed to be a proper king, and one was what one ate after all.<br/><br/>"Three is nearly enough," he said after some time spent digesting. "If you can find me a fourth to favor I can begin paring them down against one another. If one of four cannot be found to act as my left hand, I shall have to give it up for a lost cause. Not so much a loss, though, when my right is so strong," he added, rewarding his friend with a brief smile. The King kept much on his plate in every respect; maintaining his longest friendship was another on the list of things to do, even if it was among his more enjoyable tasks.<br/><br/>Others were less pleasant. Even thinking about it sobered his expression before he voiced the subject: "Any word on our runaway representative?"<br/><br/><br/><div align="center">Ghin, Day 1 - Mid-afternoon</div><br/><em>{Something coming.}</em><br/><br/>In their improvised hiding space in the valley Bako appeared to be alone to the observing eye, his charge protectively concealed beneath his wing. With those limbs curled in close against his frame the great bird seemed hardly half his size, still impressive to be sure, but hardly the massive creatures rumored to wreak such havoc in the skirmishes between the Nautali and their Goblin neighbors. His head was angled downward, beak almost touching his chest, his eyes masked in the spackled brown feathers all around his head, slightly lighter than the patterned sandy coloration that covered the rest of his obtuse form. He seemed, for all intents and purposes, safe to approach, to an extent, at least while he was being approached. Right up until that strange woman and her creature were within a few leaps' reach.<br/><br/>The eye on Dasyra's side of the bird opened, centered on her.<br/><br/>Ghin woke in a start, a heavy feeling crushing in her gut, nauseating her even as the bird against her back began to rise.<br/><br/><em>{Something coming. Something here!}</em><br/><br/>"Bako..?" The wing lifted away, blinding her in the sudden rush of sunlight and the comparative chill of the air after having been cocooned so warmly beside the bird's heart. She almost didn't see them; she wouldn't have seen them at all if she hadn't known where to look, following the eagle's airborne sweep toward the elf and the strange creature with her. Someone had stumbled upon them. "Bako, wait!"<br/><br/>The eagle's wings beat the short mountain grasses flat. Its shadow pooled over the strangers as he took to the air above them, all silent focus. Normally the guardian would have screeched, tried to scare them away, but they weren't protecting their home here. They were hiding. Hiding meant quiet. Hiding meant killing if found. His wings drew inward for a dive.<br/><br/><em>"Stop!"</em><br/><br/>It had barely begun before it ended. A gust of wind blew into the elf and her mount as those wide wings cut the dive short still a few yards above the ground. Melon-sized eyes of brown ringed with layers of gold stared down at the pair of them, intent, but keeping distance. And keeping in the air. He would not attack them if they were not a threat; the little one did not feel afraid of them. He would watch. He would wait.<br/><br/>Ghin was breathless. It was a short run to where the other three stood (or hovered, respectively), but the adrenaline was keeping her pulse on her tongue. The girl pulled her curls away from her face, stray bangs directed away from her eyes, to better size up this woman who had found them. Not a stray as she'd first thought. She didn't look like some highlands farmer. Definitely not a child. Sentry? Hunter? Soldier? Soldier might be a problem.<br/><br/>She was getting ahead of herself. One thing at a time. Take it slow. Take it easy. "Are you alright? I hope we didn't frighten you. We won't be staying here long if this is your home; I just needed to rest for a while."