Part 2: The meeting of paths

“He likes it,” Ascian says vaguely in response to the woman’s comment, floating by to look at the cloth by the windows. “What floor is the study on.”

Savich smiles at Ember, and turns it on the rest of the group until Ascian asks his question. She clears her throat, shoots a quick look at Katrin, and then looks back to Ascian. "I believe it to be on the second or third floor, but having never been in the king's mansion myself, I do not know for sure," she says. "But I almost guarantee that you will have access to some sort of meeting chamber. The king is what you might call 'humbly boastful.' He'll take you on a tour, show you his hunting trophies or something."  

Katrin gives the tailor an assenting nod. "I can't do this without them. They're the only ones I trust to keep quiet if questions are asked."

"Very well," Savich says. She pulls a white, flat box from beneath the counter. A simple black scarf is nearly folded atop the box. "Here you go," she says, setting the box on the counter.

Katrin nods, picking up the box and scarf. "I did have one more question. My friends here were wondering about the possibility of further compensation. I require nothing of the sort, but they're a bit more....pragmatic than I am." 

Savich glances at Ascian and Thrandimir and chuckles. "Pragmatic, are we?" Her eyes return to Katrin. "I'm quite pragmatic as well. Your payment will depend on how well this plan works. No money changes hands until after you plant the scarf."

She nods, smiling, glancing back at Thrandimir and Ash. "That'll work just fine. Thank you."

As the others go off to pursue their own interest Akiran realizes that he knows next to nothing about the Heartland's King. His scales flexing in a Dragonborn smile, after all you can't ingratiate yourself to a King without the right intel. Akiran's mind wanders to the gold, fame, & glory that this night could bring him, if he played it right. As the vain thoughts of glory play through his mind, the cursed mark on his arm begins to burn. He says quietly to himself "An' even better the king's got enough juice to bring down the bastard." Strutting to the King's Mug Tavern, his armor gleaming in the day's light with a magical shine. He usually preferred his pubs a bit further from the Royal Mansion, but the pub's patron's included many of the King's servants and the occasional noble.  Walking into the bar as if he owned it, Akiran orders a an Old Fashioned and gets to work. Over a game of dice with the King's kennel master, the pale pudgy human regales Akiran with stories of the Darius' hunts, and his hunting room filled with trophies of past hunts. Akiran nods along eagerly plying the human with drinks, noting to himself that he should tell Thezra of the king's love of hunting.  The kennel master goes on to tell a tale or two of the King's time with the Sojourners hunting monsters in his youth. Akiran's smiles and buys the kennel master another drink as he finds a path to bringing up the cursed monster with the king. After a particularly bawdy round of drinking songs he was approached by one of the King's maids.  From her he learned that King was a family man and tragically lost his wife during the birth of their last child. She went on to say that since his loss the King's been stressed and has begun lashing out at the servants. A tragedy, but Lily should be able to work the family angle. Akiran resolved to telling her tonight.  The maid also mentioned that the King's mother was a powerful mage, something both Lilly & Thrand would be interested in hearing. The maid then asked the dragonborn in a flirty tone "who he would dance with"? Akiran snout breaks into a humanish smile & his scales ruffle with pleasure, as he checks out the young human woman. The maid has long dark hair and a curvy figure. The thing most humans would go wild for, but  she was far from his type. H er dull scaleless skin that with humans was too often sweaty or moist, and far too warm.  But any attention is good attention, and Akiran spent much of his time flirting with the maid. Leaving the tavern more than a bit tipsy Akiran makes his way back to the guild.

“No. It won’t.”  The idea of traveling to Dragonvale with empty vials forces the words out of Ascian’s mouth before he’s even really thought them through, empowered by the thought of Casimir and Faerus’ belief and the green orb in his pocket. He turns from the bolts of fabric with his fingers slowly starting to curl, glancing swiftly at Thrandimir and then the shopkeeper with hollow eyes. “We need money now. And a number.” He pauses, realizing a beat too late it’s perhaps too fervent and adds half-heartedly,  “You trust us. We trust you.”

As Ascian delves into Savich's mind, several thoughts float through. Gods damned money hungry fucking adventurers. They have several thousand gold put away, but they don't tell me where it is. What is wrong with that boy? He looks sick. And a wolf?  That one needs to shave his beard. Makes him look much older than he is. Something wrong with his eyes. 30 gold upstairs in my safe, but I'll be damned if I'll give it up like this. Thrandimir's detection spell flares with a grey tendril of divination magic that tethers Savich and Ascian together. Savich's mind flares with resignation, and then she speaks. "I don't have any gold on me, except the piddling amount here in the shop. This isn't Formal Affairs," she says. "I can give you seventy gold after you do this for me."

Katrin's jaw tightens as Ash speaks up. Not something she's seen or heard him do almost ever in the time that she'd known him. Does he need money that badly? She relaxes only slightly when Savich responds with the offer of seventy gold. 

Thrandimir's fingers tighten around his staff as he subtly checks the scarf for any kind of magical aura, but the item is entirely mundane. Must be an anchor , he muses to himself while he watches Ash negotiate with the shopkeeper. "More risk aware than pragmatic,"  the wizard adds. "You stand to lose little if this should go awry, but it's our necks on the chopping block. Perhaps a down payment now and the rest when the job is done?"

Ascian feels a wave of annoyance and resignation flow through Savich at Thrandimir's speech. "Very well," she says, stepping down from her stool behind the counter. "Give me a moment."  She returns a few minutes later with a sack of coins. "There you go. Thirty gold now, seventy later."

Making his way back to the guild, Akiran realizes that he hadn't seen much of Lilly since the incident. She seemed to be holding up well but she'd  been through hell, losing a leg and whatever magical shit happened afterwards. Finding the young mage in the common room, Akiran flexes his snout into a smile his voice falling back into his usual speaking patterns  "Ya ready to meet a king? Gonna be a good day for us, lotta gold & glory in it for usif we play our card right!"    Taking a seat next to Lilly "Spent da day learning about him and thought I'd give ya a few angles to play."   Leaning in and holding up a talon he says "First rule of this life, always know a bit about who you're selling ya sword too. Keeps ya from signing in a bad contract & getting burned."  Pausing for a moment he says "Heard da king's a family man, though he lost his wife after da last kid. Been a bit moody e'er since. Could be a good in for ya to work, people love yapping about their kids. May be your ticket it inta his library. Oh and his mom's a powerful mage, maybe ya could talk a bit shop wit her."    Pausing for a moment his scales flexing in concern he asks sincerely "How are ya doing? It's been fucking crazy da last few days."

Thrandimir inclines his head towards Savich in congenial acquiescence as he receives the sack, before looking to Katrin and Ascian expectantly. The wizard evidently considers their business here complete for now.

Katrin's expression is unreadable as Thrandimir takes the coin from Savich. She gives the tailor a nod, then exits the shop, waiting for the others outside. Once they're all outside and the door has shut, Katrin continues onward at a clipped pace. "We tell no one about this."

Ascian follows the others out of the shop, casting a final scouring glance around its interior before stepping onto the street. He gives the pouch of money in Thrandimir's hands a long look before it switches abruptly to Katrin. "Why do you want to do it. If it wasn't for money." He continues almost without pause, "How do you want to do it."

Katrin's hand curls into a fist at her side, her jaw tensing and eyes hardening, but she keeps her pace. "Better to talk where there aren't ears. But I have an idea."

When Akiran stopped by to pass on the intel regarding the king's proclivities, Thezra's ears perked up at his fondness for hunting. At the very least, there was a commendable trait to be found in this human lord. Plus, orcish hospitality wouldn't allow her to attend such an event emptyhanded anyway. So it was that she found herself stopping by in Akiran's quarters to invite the warrior on a hunt with her, only to be turned away at the prospect of returning to the dragon's woods so soon. Understandable, but a shame.  Their sparring the day before had endeared the vain merc to her more than she'd realized, and the idea of a friendly hunt had excited her. Nevertheless she set out, determined to score as big of game as she could if it meant breaking bread on good terms with this man.  On horseback she galloped out beyond the city, and not an hour later arrived once more at the now hauntingly familiar treeline. For a moment she paused, Krutaelis' hot breath and cold, sundering voice piercing her thoughts like an arrow, but she steeled herself on. Growing up playing in the trees and woods surrounding Ore'agah had imprinted on her a natural affinity for maneuvering through such terrain. Recalling rocks and trees and trails had become to her like second nature, so avoiding the path back to that beast shouldn't be too hard , she thought. Conversely, locating her sought-after game might just be. Hunting had never been something she practiced much  – not compared to actual fight training. Hunting had always been something better left to the clan's trackers, and even then few were in use since Duar'ken had twisted their purposes towards raiding instead. Regardless, the better part of the first hour she spent out there was nearly fruitless until she spotted a promising set of tracks  – two in fact  – only to realize they belonged to a wolf. Don't think the kid would like that much. Grimacing, she continued on. The next hour and a half went by more or less the same. The trickling water of a nearby stream relaxed her mind as she trekked over hills and under low-hanging branches, watching squirrels skitter up the trunks of trees and foxes flit in and out of bushes at her approach. There was a tranquility to such solitude out here. In the madness of the modern metropolis she'd made a shelter of recently, it was dangerously easy to forget the truth of nature. That life  – amid throngs of thieves and merry merchants peddling wares and worries alike, the simplicity of the world was lost. It wouldn't be the worst if I simply stayed here , she found herself thinking after a time. It'd be so easy to just... not return. A deep gash in the bark of a tree up ahead shook her from the stupor of her daydream. Clawmark . Ambling ahead it wasn't long before she spotted it: nestled just inside the overhang of a rockside bluff that formed the outline of a cavern. She considered approaching silently, catching it offgu – Snap! The sharp twist of a branch beneath her foot caught the bear's attention. It started to roar, but her own shout drowned it out as she stormed forward towards it. In an instant she was on it, her sword swinging as it backed up out of the way. A swipe of its paw nearly caught her by surprise, but a flick of her wrist brought steel against claw, and with two more strong swings it let out a dying groan before tumbling to the ground before her. Perhaps one day.  The thought stayed with her as she set about skinning and taking what bits she could, setting off soon after for the city once more.

Tegan J. said: Making his way back to the guild, Akiran realizes that he hadn't seen much of Lilly since the incident. She seemed to be holding up well but she'd  been through hell, losing a leg and whatever magical shit happened afterwards. Finding the young mage in the common room, Akiran flexes his snout into a smile his voice falling back into his usual speaking patterns  "Ya ready to meet a king? Gonna be a good day for us, lotta gold & glory in it for usif we play our card right!"    Taking a seat next to Lilly "Spent da day learning about him and thought I'd give ya a few angles to play."   Leaning in and holding up a talon he says "First rule of this life, always know a bit about who you're selling ya sword too. Keeps ya from signing in a bad contract & getting burned."  Pausing for a moment he says "Heard da king's a family man, though he lost his wife after da last kid. Been a bit moody e'er since. Could be a good in for ya to work, people love yapping about their kids. May be your ticket it inta his library. Oh and his mom's a powerful mage, maybe ya could talk a bit shop wit her."    Pausing for a moment his scales flexing in concern he asks sincerely "How are ya doing? It's been fucking crazy da last few days." Lilli looks up as Akiran comes over to her and begins explaining his exploits for the day, along with his reasoning. She sits and listens to every word he says, nodding here and there to let him know she's taking it all in. "I never really thought about that... manipulating a king ." She chuckles a little breathlessly. "You are much bolder in thought than I, Akiran, but this is perfect. The King's mother is a mage, this could be perfect... That would be a great way to get into her graces and access information. There are some things I want to know about my powers. I want to know more about where they come from. They are not learned, but innate, they just sort of... awakened in me one day before I came to Crossroads. Nothing about me is normal for my family." When he asks about her wellbeing she sits quietly for a moment, picking idly at some lint on her clothing. "I'm alright, I guess? I has been a crazy couple of days, but I think the strangest thing is how I can sometimes still feel it. My leg that is. Especially when I remove this one to sleep. It doesn't hurt , but when I get the sensation it's unpleasant. Not sure how to describe it, but the worst is sleeping. I haven't been sleeping well. I think I'm having nightmares, but I don't remember them when I wake up. I just always feel panicked and sweating." 

Questions spark in Akrian's mind as he listens to Lilly speak about her family and the awakening of her powers. The image of dying wings sprouting from her back, playing through the dragonborn's mind. Noticing that she kept it vague, he decides not to pry and with a chuckle says  "Better ta be born with em, than have to spend all day with ya nose in book. But if ya ever want talk about that or ya family, I'll hear ya out." Flexing his snout into a smile he adds "But that sounds like a story, that we'll need a few glasses for." Akiran's smile fades and his scales flatten as she mentions the phantom pains and nightmares, his voice sympathetic   "I wish ah could help ya kid. I know more than I'd like 'bout nightmares." Shrugging "I usually try ta drink myself to sleep, but that doesn't always work. I won't say it gets better but ya do get used to it." Patting her shoulder Akiran sincerely adds "Ya lived, just keep pushing on and ignoring the bad. Just squash it down until ya don't think about it anymore." His scales flexing and a quiet despair in his tone "Least that's what I do."  Forcing energy into his voice and his snout into a human smile "But we're 'bout ta meet a king. An' by the time we're done ya'll be able to read any book ya want in this whole damn kingdom!"

That evening, everyone sans Ascian gets changed -- though with a bit of magic, Thrandimir is able to make Ascian's clothes at the very least clean, as well as give Ember's coat a good cleanse. The wolf shakes, sending wolf fur flying into the air. Another round of prestigitation to get rid of the fur, and the Fireblades are ready to go. One hour before sundown, just as the messenger said, the Fireblades gather at the gates to the royal mansion. The guards, wearing the green regalia of the Heartlands, open the ornately engraved gates and beckon them approach the house. A balcony is held up by several pillars arranged in a ring around the front doors. The windows glow with yellow light and the sky backlights the mansion with purple and blue tones. The trees provide complete shade for the courtyard, even in the light of near-dusk. The party circles a gleaming polished-stone fountain that bubbles cheerily in the center of the courtyard, and are greeted by the messenger that some of them had seen a few days prior. His eyes pass over the group, clearly going over the clothes of each adventurer one by one. He looks quizzically at the parcel Thezra carries, but when his eyes settle on Ascian and Ember, he freezes, his austere façade cracking at the state of Ascian's dress and the large wolf. "Oh dear," he says as if under his breath, while clearly loud enough for everyone to hear. To cover, he clears his throat. "Good evening, Fireblades," he says. "I am Merrid, the king's chamberlain. Welcome to the royal mansion. If you would be so kind as to follow me."  He turns and strides up the stairs with his hand locked behind his back. He gestures to the guards, and they swing the dark oak double doors open, revealing a warmly lit interior. As they Fireblades follow Merrid in, he gestures to a set of racks on the wall. "Please leave your weapons here."

Thezra spends the entire walk to the mansion shifting uncomforably in the tightknit weave of the tailor's dress. The black finery, flaring out at the bottom into a bluish ombre swirl dotted in little white starry marks, constrains her gait in ways she'd rarely experienced before. Over her shoulder is slung the minorly  mangled bearskin she'd hunted, and the meat and trophy claws she'd snagged tumbled about within a couple of pouches at her side.  With an all-too-familiar sigh and a courteous grimace, she shakes her head at the chamberlain's request. "I will be keeping mine on my person. As it would be foolish and likely suicidal to use it  within  – nor do I have any reason to  –  you can trust me when I say it will remain at my side, untouched."

"Very well, you may keep your weapon," Merrid says. "The lady will wait in the courtyard until the evening has concluded."

Thezra rolls her eyes.  "Suit yourself, human. If the King wished to meet with all of us as we are, you can explain why you refused his invited guests entrance. It means little to me either way, though I had been eager to share with him my gift here," she nods towards the bear.

Merrid is about to answer, when a young human woman in green livery rushes up to him and courtesy's hurriedly. "Mr. Merrid, there's a problem with plumbing. Master Eidvar is looking for you." The chamberlain's eyes roll so hard that they almost pop out of socket. "Very well, tell Master Eidvar that I'll be with him shortly." He opens a closet door and pulls out a device made of two large wiry loops joined with a copper box that glows faintly. Thrandimir recognizes it instantly -- a Karnopolis Peacebond. Merrid hands it to one of the guards and looks at Thezra. "If you must keep the weapon, then please allow it to be secured."  He begins to turn, and then looks at Ember crossing the threshold. "Will your...erm... dog ...be dining in the runs with the king's hounds tonight?"  

"If it makes you feel better," she shrugs. 

"Only if I am," Ascian intones as he crosses the threshold, the weight of the afternoon still heavy on his shoulders. While his search for Barnes had been fruitful, albeit costly, the news that there was no more to store and no known dealer in Dragonvale had struck him like a slap. He went nowhere without the vials now, kept close in a pouch at his hip. Seven now, not even enough for a week. Days of Casimir, mere hours of Faerus' teachings, and then what? Back to what it had been? Back to not connecting to what he was ? The desperate need to head toward the Karnopolis gate and Barnes' source, a man he'd named as Graves, grows higher with each second that ticks by – rhythmic and taunting, as the dozens of clocks in his father's workshop at the Cape had been. He blinks, staring expectantly at the man as he awaits direction one way or the other. There was no time to think about that now. Katrin had things she needed to be done.

Merrid has the soldiers wrap Thezra's blade in thick leather and then secure it with the peacebond. The copper box chirps quietly once as the peacebond tightens, holding the sword fast to the makeshift sheath. To Ascian, he shakes his head and says, "I...just...we will not have a wolf dining  in the king's-- " The other servant calls out. "Mr. Merrid!" "Gods dammit all," Merrid says, stepping hurriedly to follow the servant. "The gentleman will keep a tight leash on his...er...dog!"  The chamberlain disappears around the corner, and his voice comes echoing back to the guards. "Once they have relinquished or secured their weapons, escort them to the hall!"

Katrin closes her eyes, taking in a deep, steadying breath. It had been years since she'd worn a dress like this one, and even longer since that she hadn't been wearing armor. She smooths her skirts, doing her best to drive the fresh irritation at Thezra's incessant stubbornness from her mind, focusing instead on the night ahead, and the job she had promised to do. The weight of the symbol around her neck would accept no less.

The guard in charge of searching each of the Fireblades looks at the pocket concealing Ascian's garotte and the pouch with the vials. "Can you empty those pouches for me, please?" he says.

Akiran strides towards the mansion, his spirits high and confidence soaring. The steady staccato of his sharply polished leather shoes  accentuating his every step. His silk tunic gracefully fitted over his muscular frame, with the half cape flowing elegantly behind him. The bright silver and gold embroidery of the outfit contrasting nicely with the deep silver of his scales.  The thought that tonight was his night continuously bounced around his mind...as long as he refrained from looking at his companions. The pale one not only refused to dress for the occasion, he brought Ember along with him. & Thezra taking his advice to heart brought a mangled bear pelt.  Shaking his snout, as Thezra once again refuses to surrender her blade. The Dragonborn steps up and quickly unstraps his sword belt saying quietly in a  joking but kind tone to Thezra "Gonna have ta do some hand ta hand sparring next time. If ya that scared ta part with your blade."

“It has nothing to do with fear,”  she mutters. “It is a part of me. I would just as soon remove an arm.”  She hefts the bear pelt up and continues forward towards the manor, stopping only to watch the kid get grilled by the guards. 

RisenZed said: The guard in charge of searching each of the Fireblades looks at the pocket concealing Ascian's garotte and the pouch with the vials. "Can you empty those pouches for me, please?" he says. Something cold and urgent spikes within Ascian and he stares up at the guard, too aware of not only the garotte concealed within but the vials he can’t be parted with. “They’re empty,” he says flatly, slowly reaching to open them and prove it while reaching out to Thrandimir nearby.  They need to be. 

Keep it quiet , Thrandimir thinks back when he feels the familiar sensation of Ascian touching his mind. For the second time today, the wizard's grip on his staff intensifies as he concentrates on motionlessly projecting an image of an empty leather pouch.

Ascian opens the pouch, revealing bare leather. The guard raises an eyebrow, but shrugs and waves Ascian on.  The Fireblades are shown up the foyer stairs and onto the balcony that over looks the room and seems to become a hallway that runs the width of the house. The guards pull open the double doors at the center, and reveal a long banquet hall floored with rich dark wood with a wide runner of red carpet across the center of the room. A raised dais with an ornately carved wooden throne would stand as the focus of the room, if not for the wide table set for 15 in the center.  A larger chair at the head, and seven chairs per side sit in perfect rows, each paired with a set of flawless cutlery, china plates, stemmed glass chalices and engraved metal tankards. A few others occupy the room, though nobody is sat at the table. Near the dias, two men with the same auburn hair discuss something in voices that do not carry. Both are dressed in fine embroidered tunics, though the shorter of the two seems to be dressed grander -- with a simple golden band around his head. Nearby but out of earshot of the two, a woman in her upper middle years holds two children -- a young girl and a younger boy -- very stiffly by the shoulders. The boy stands perfectly still, but the girl seems to squirm constantly.  A much older woman with a wizened face and silver hair done up in a tight bun studies the room quietly. Another human stands much closer to the Fireblade's side of the room -- male, greying and into his later years -- bears a striking resemblance to the woman containing the two children. He speaks with a ceremonially armored dwarf -- tall for his race, like Katrin -- who has his long black beard tied into three identical braids. A familiar face, at least to Akiran, stands nearby -- General Trask, wearing not armor, but a well-fit tunic and trousers that look like they would suit a duel as well as a state dinner. She nods to Akiran and clears her throat, catching the attention of the men at the front of the room. Both look up, but the shorter one in the crown smiles. "Ah, friends. Fireblades! The guests of honor! Welcome to my home. I am--" Merrid hurriedly enters. "I am sorry, your grace. This is King Darius Abbott, the First of his Name, Ru-" The king cuts Merrid off. "There's no need for that, Merrid," he says with a laugh. "We're all friends here."  He turns his attention back to the Fireblades while Merrid makes himself blend in with the wall. "Pick a seat, and we'll start the introductions." He gestures toward the table and stands behind the head of the table. The man with him takes a seat to the right of the head, and the two children line up next to the man along with the woman. These are clearly the king's brother Darian, his wife, and his two children. King Darius sits, and the rest move to sit down as well. "Please," the king says. "We know of your group's exploits, but introduce yourselves."

Taking the room in, Akiran's first surprise is how intimate of an affair it was. He expected the room to be filled with nobles, advisors and the power hunger hangers on that clung to being's of importance. Spotting the General he gratefully returns her nod, her presence was a good sign. The King must be taking the watcher threat seriously. Walking closer to the pair, Akiran notes the King's dismissal of his title and casual demeanor. Akiran executes a short yet stylized formal bow towards the king. Code switching into his more formal style of speech   "We are honored to be received your grace" Standing he adds "I am Akiran the silver sword."  He had practiced a much longer and grandiose introduction, but if the king didn't care for his own titles he certainly didn't give a shit about Akiran's. Gracefully moving towards a seat that's as close to the King and the General as he can manage. Remembering that the King has been away leading the army and has a militaristic reputation he adds  "Before joining the Fireblades I served with Legion for years, and fought alongside many valiant Heartlands soldiers. It is a pleasure to meet the king they courageously served."

Katrin does a quick once-over of the room, taking in the various nobles, advisors, and the king himself. He wasn't quite what she had expected, but she reminded herself that this was a man who was conscripting his own people into a war no one wanted. And sending them off to die pointlessly. The dwarf across the room catches her eye, and she finds herself frowning as she moves to take a seat. He was...familiar. Looked a hell of a lot like an Ironstone. Similar to her uncle, coincidentally. But he wasn't her uncle. There wasn't any malice in his eyes. I know you from somewhere. But I don't remember where. Probably Hol. But that had been so long ago, it was unsurprising that she didn't recognize him.  She resists the urge to roll her eyes at Akiran's proclamation with difficulty. And keeps her mouth shut for the time being. And she watches the armored dwarf carefully, still trying to place his face in her memories.

Stepping through the doors behind Akiran, Thezra's eyes dart around the room, noting each and every guard stood stalwartly around the room. Was it a necessary precaution against his own guests or a calculated show of force for a lord like this to welcome strangers with so wide an entourage? She couldn't decide. Foreign guests and dignitaries were not exactly common in Ore'agah, at least to her knowledge, but Kerak was a warrior himself. His own need for protection was rather diminished compared to the older-looking human she laid eyes on now.  Is this truly the man whose forces have sullied our lands with their camps and sought to drive us from them? With that on her mind, she struts up to the side of Akiran as he finishes his own introduction and hefts the bearskin forwards. "The way I hear it you've had your own share of exploits hunting beast and monster alike, Protector of the Baervale Hills ."  Her tone is less accusatory than simply acknowledging, but the corner of her lips does curl into a knowing smile as she comes to a stop near the table. "It's not much but consider this an offering in that regard, your kingliness. I am Thezra of Ore'agah, and on behalf of my people and our chieftain, Kerak, I am here hunting monsters as well."

"It's a pleasure, Akiran the Silver Sword," he says to the dragonborn. "And to you, Thezra of Ore'Agah: I know there is nothing I can say to correct the damages my people have done to yours over the past two centuries. It's a hereditary title. I would just as soon remove it from the whole spiel, but have yet to dig into it." He looks at the bundle of furs and meat in Thezra's arms. He gestures, and a servant approaches Thezra. "Give the meat to him, but I'd love to inspect the pelt after the introductions are done."

Katrin pulls her gaze from the armored dwarf to look at the King. "Lady Katrin of Clan Ironstone. It's a pleasure."

The king's raises an eyebrow and looks to his brother, then back to Katrin. "Does that mean that Clan Ironstone is declaring its land an independent kingdom now, Lady  Katrin?"

Katrin presses her lips together, cursing inwardly at her slip. She folds her hands, and inclines her head deferentially. As much as she hated it, she couldn't break the tenuous peace. Her father would never forgive her. "No, Your Majesty. A dear friend of mine called me that. And I haven't been home in....many months. I would never speak for my family without consulting them first. If I have offended you, I apologize."

The king stares at Katrin for a few moments, the silence stretching for one beat more than courtesy would normally allow, and then his gaze softens and he smiles. "Very well, Lady Katrin. Welcome."

For a moment, she's worried she might falter under his gaze. But relief washes over her as the King seems to accept her words. If he was offended, he didn't show it. "Thank you, your Majesty." Rather than risk any further slips, she sits in the chair she's ended up at.

Lilliana locks eyes with King Darius, her bright green eyes twinkling flirtatiously as she steps up to allow everyone a full view of her tall, lithe figure in the tight, slinky black dress of hers. "Lilliana Peacemourn of Timbervale, your majesty." She sinks into a curtsy, crossing her long legs expertly while maintaining eye contact with Darius and not looking down deferentially like her mother had always taught her. She needs him to see  her  amongst everyone else there and not just noticing her, but really seeing her. She hopes that perhaps Darius was the sort of man not intimidated or put off by such a display, but she would soon find out. She wanted to look to Akiran to see his reaction to her display, but she forces herself to hold his eyes as she lifts one side of her mouth into a sultry smile. 

As Katrin and Lilli make their introductions to different results, Thezra gives a nod to the king and hands the sack of bear meat over to the servant. "Careful with this,"  she warns,  "might be a bit heavy." Looking back to Lilliana, she cocks an eyebrow watching the display.  Was I supposed to split my legs like that?  How is she doing that in these krutak'ug clothes?

The sensation to   go  had been building since they'd stepped foot into the government district, a mounting need that grew with each passing block.  He had thought the strange impulse to move was a byproduct of the scarf drapped loosely around his neck, the ends long enough to tickle at the leather over his wrist; the adrenaline of a heist, a familiar feeling in a new form – this half-dead new form.  It isn't until he reaches the dining hall behind the others that Ascian realizes the sensation isn't from the ask Katrin had made of him, and it isn't adrenaline, and it isn't intuition. It's a call. "Ascian,"  he introduces himself vaguely when there's a distinct pause he realizes only after enough time to make it awkward that the others are waiting on him, attention skimming over the room and its possible exits rather than the king or his family. He looks back at the door behind him that would lead further down the hall – to stairs, maybe; and an answer to a feeling he can't quite name. Stairs that went not up, he realizes, but down . To whatever might lie there.  "This is Ember. Where are the runs. We were told we'd be going there."

The king meets Lilliana's gaze with even eyes as she curtsies. His dark eyes seem to take her in with a glance, and he affects a small bow in return. His lips shift into a small smile as he says,  "You move well for someone so recently injured. I trust you have been taken care of in that regard. The Wayfarers take good care of their own, as I hear it." His gaze shifts to Ascian as the pale young man makes his introductions, and he takes in Ember as well. "You must be a great trainer to have tamed a wolf. Maybe you can assist my huntsmaster sometime." He chuckles. "But going to the runs won't be necessary." He looks at one of the servants along the wall. "Prepare a plate for Ember. A big one." His eyes look back to the wolf for a moment, considering. "A very big one. Your companion is welcome at my dinner table, Ascian." An audible sniff can be heard from Merrid, who covers it by rubbing his nose. 

Thrandimir loiters towards the rear of the group as they are led deeper into the palace, keen eyes flitting left and right as he assesses their surroundings. "Your majesty," Thrandimir begins, stepping forward with a bow once Ascian has said his piece, "my name is Thrandimir. I am Lady Katrin's advisor."