<div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/NabKWTp.png)<br/><div align="center"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 10pt;">Kirion Ta'sar</span></div></div><strong>Time</strong>: Late Evening, April 19, Year Unknown<br/><strong>Location</strong>: Throne Room of Glen Avon -> Ritual Room<br/><strong>Wearing</strong>: As pictured<br/><strong>Notes (if applicable):</strong><br/><hr/><br/>It was not Kirion's first time at court. Indeed, he had even spent a good thirty years as 'Royal Magician' for some human Kingdom, leaving only when the King's heir proved to be too bothersome. So it is that he allows himself to mingle, chatting somewhat politely--if inanely--with anyone that seems inclined. The courtyard is pleasing to look upon, and the weather--despite being so high up--was reasonably comfortable. He finds himself in a good mood; perhaps due to having a plan. Whether the ritual is interesting or not is almost immaterial, though he has some hope. It was something he had pondered before, in fact, though hadn't ever found the time to do any research on. Seeing the ritual in person should answer a fair few questions, at least.<br/><br/>The King and Prince maintain only a mild bit of his attention, and Kirion's gaze keeps going back to Qaizel and the Drow. He knows, often to his detriment, that he has a fondness for pretty things. But Qaizel is almost too perfect, as if he was covered in a glamour constructed solely to tempt, to draw the eye. It makes him suspicious even as it makes him intrigued. If that is the elf's actual appearance, well. Kirion would not be opposed to getting a closer look at the man, certainly. In and out of those green robes. The Drow draws Kirion's attention almost as much, though he wishes briefly that it had been a male member of the species. Drow were not something he has had a terrible amount of experience with, though he has made several deals and trades with intermediaries the race remains somewhat recluse. Unfortunate. There's something exotic about them...<br/><br/>Araeth's greeting washes over him, and he allows himself to smile and bow his head slightly to the King. It wouldn't do to burn bridges, and truthfully he holds nothing against the royal family. Glen Avon has been good to him, it isn't the King's fault that he finds himself bored so frequently. The King's charisma aside, Aereze's tiredness is something that concerns him. Such things are unusual to see in an elf, let alone one of such station. Kirion would certainly never allow himself to be seen in such a state without a choice. Tapping a finger to his lips in quiet contemplation, he turns his attention from the entourage and looks at the others that had been invited.<br/><br/>He doesn't recognize them, though he wonders why he would. Kirion's business is in relics and lost knowledge, not in which elf or which noble is most favored at court. He gives the group a slow once over, curious as to their stories. Unfortunately he isn't given the chance to form an opinion before the ritual is set to begin. Kirion follows at a sedate pace, finding that despite himself he is excited. They move into the very heart of Glen Avon, the ritual chamber large and imposing. It pulls a near sigh of longing from him, dreaming of the work he could do in such a place. He follows the runes with his eyes, stopping as he sees another elf reach down to trace one. Quirking a brow, he moves up next to the man.<br/><br/>"Are you familiar with the language, or merely interested?" Kirion inquires. If he had to guess he'd say the man doesn't work with the Weave, but perhaps he has a fascination with runes? Peripherally aware of the guards, he makes sure to keep half an eye on the figures in the ritual circle. He doesn't want to miss a moment.