Council Inquest
Log Info
- Title: Council Inquest
- Emitter: Whirlpool
- Characters: Cryosanthia, Aryia, Ravenstongue, Merek, Patch, Seyardu, Stjepan, Cesran, Seldan, Malik
- Place: A16: Castellum Alexandrae
- Time: Friday, September 23, 2022, 10:11 PM
- Summary: The Alexandrian Council is holding an Inquest with regards to matters of the fall of the veil of Llyranost and the potential involvement of Alexandrians in the matter. Questions will be asked, statemnets given, witnesses called on. This is a formal affair, so no weapons will be allowed. Wear your very best! Formal wear! Be fancy! The full story of the freeing of the veil of Llyranost, Caeldra Dawncaller, was told. Her injust imprisonment, the liberation, her guidance through the Forest of Suicides, and the release of her brother, Menesil, from him chains and all the shadow elves with him. Following these reveleations, the Llyranost delegate storms out, and the Mythwood Emissary announces their union with Alexandria.
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The reconstructed and restored Castellum Alexandrae looks precious little like it once did. Previously little more then a fairy-tale castle in tone, the current castle grows out of the mountains itself with carved towering walls hundreds of feet in height and adorned with towering sculptures of mythological figures from Alexandria's ancient history and towers manned by cannons and domed in reds and golds and the symbols of Alexandros' Rising Phoenix. Great bridges lead towards enormous doors of mithril, adamant and iron, forged of khazadi craftmanship and large enough to welcome the wingspan of the great dragons while sturdy enough to withstand their impact as well.
Multi-tiered like the end-all, be-alls of wedding cakes, the castle sports at least three visible walls but is likely dozens of storeys in height with it's pinnacle tower level no less then a half a mile above the ground. Emblazoned upon the second tier itself is an enormous red and gold plate depicting the fiery Phoenix of Alexandria in stylized glory. Cannons line the southern walls of the castle which merge seamlessly with the outer southern walls of the city.
All roads converge before the great bridge spans of granite that lead to the castle. A great square where stands carved likenesses of the former kings and queens of the Old Alexandria Kingdom and from this square the main road diverges north along other enormous bridge spans that eventually touch down upon streets known as The Mountain Roads.
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-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Appearing, in Order =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Cryosanthia 6'9" 291 Lb Sith-Makar Female A dashingly tall, elegant white-scaled lizard woman. Aryia 4'8" 110 Lb Shadow Elf Female A heavily scarred mul with a resolved look about her. Ravenstongue 5'0" 99 Lb Half-Elf Female Short half-elf girl with violet eyes and black hair. Merek 5'10" 215 Lb Human Male A black-haired, dusky male with golden eyes. Patch 4'8" 100 Lb Dawn Elf Female A blond Llyranesi with a port-wine stained face. Seyardu 5'6" 150 Lb Sith-Makar Female A friendly silver sith-makar with a perpetual squint. Stjepan 8'0" 534 Lb Giantborn Male Big, blonde jotun. Cesran 6'1" 185 Lb Human Male A tall dark-skinned man Seldan 5'11" 187 Lb Human Male Ginger-blonde human in armor wearing Eluna's symbol. Malik 6'2" 195 Lb Human Male A sandy-haired tsuran with blue eyes. -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--= -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= As the GM =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Whirlpool Otyugh I am stinky! -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=
An inquest: a body of people assembled to hold a judicial or official inquiry.
In this case, the matter before the official selected here today pertains to the fall of the Veil of Llyranost, its consequences, and the immediate actions of the city of Alexandria in regards to its fall. It also pertains to the Llyranessi wish for questioning of particular adventurers that were in the Veiled City before the fall of the aforementioned magical enchantment, and what their role in it might have been.
The judicial hall in the Castellum is packed with people. Lucky, curious onlookers, representatives of the Guild of Explorers, members of the nobility, a few folks from the Alexandrian tribune, and of course, adventurers who have an interest in the matter. All are expected to be in their most formal wear, and they are. Weapons have been disallowed, to no one's surprise, and spellcasters have a close eye being kept on them as they are in fact weapons themselves.
Right now, it's just getting ready to start. People are going to be called on and given a chance to speak at the inquest, questions asked. Typically, it is known to the officials what is going to be said and what the outcome will be, but it's not as if these things never have surprises for them too. It's just that this is the presentation of *findings* in a particular way, more often than not.
One of those present is a tall and elegant sith'makari. At first glance, seemingly a silver-scale, a second glance clarifying that hers are white, polished to a high lustre and causing them to take on the colours of her clothing. She wears an elaborate robe of silver feathers, accented by other silvered jewelry on her forarms, ankles, tail and neck. A collection that culminates in a silver half-mask that covers the top of her face and flows up into her horns. Mated to her own, the mask has additional faux horns that add a suggestion of greater age. Every motion is accompanied by refracted light, she shines and glows; for the moment she is still, silent and watching. Waiting.
A Llyranesi would make sense to be here. Perhaps other ilk of official capacity. Perhaps... perhaps not a...
A heavily scarred, grey skinned woman exists amongst those that have an interest in this inquest. She's aware of the close eye being kept on them, as she herself was a weapon.
Grey ears glitter with silver rings clamped on, moon hued hair curled into ribbons. A simple, yet flowing dress of black with white embroidery depicts a curling tree losing its foliage, spanning into fall, gold eyeshadow and gold painted lips adding a splash of color amongst the neutral tones. Glowing eyes shimmer with focus.
A mul'neissa is here. Aryia. She's wearing heels. She's still short.
There is a white raven with a little bow-tie in the judicial hall.
Pothy the white raven peers around with brilliant blue eyes. He looks high and he looks low. The elves have... snacks, yes? Maybe? But maybe they are snooty snacks that the snooty elves don't want to share--
Oh! A handful of berries is presented to him from a hand, and he eats. The hand is attached to one Cor'lana "Ravenstongue" Lupecyll, who has shown up today wearing a starry-themed gown, the bodice made from navy-blue silk embroidered lovingly with bits of sparkly thread. The chiffon skirt and the short chiffon sleeves attached to the bodice are a similar navy-blue color, speckled with bits of golden and silver thread as well to suggest the shimmer of the night sky itself. The strange feather mark on her sternum is present for all to see.
"Be on your best behavior, Pothy, please," Cor'lana requests. And Pothy nods. He does not want to cause a diplomatic incident over snacks.
Merek makes his way into the Castellum, he wears dark attire though with formal silver trim, and it looks like he will be doing what he can to learn things while here. He notices that a white sith'makar is about, and makes his way to that direction. He inclines politely, and looks a little scruffy while he has a smile on his features at seeing the woman. Meanwhile he watches the proceeding.
Full dress was something Patch had been working on. Her red coat has been cleaned, and shined to a polish with a few modifications. The shoulder epaulets make it look like some sort of uniform, though no allegiances grace the coat's leather. It's bright and a bit distracting, but the warnings didn't say that what kind of formal. No, the bard is on full display, her coat buttoned tight, and her boots shined. Where there would be rank on her decorations there is only an insignia of a treble clef.
Hearing Cor'lana talk to Pothy in the crowd causes Patch to chuckle, a hand covering her lips to stifle it as she awaits for things to proceed.
"Good evening, everyone. First, I'd like to welcome all of our onlookers to our inquest. Today, we'll be discussing the events pertaining to the fall of the Veil of Llyranost. This ancient magical effect, once thought a permanent part of the woods, no longer shields the Lyranessi people from outsiders. This danger was unforseen, but when it occurred, the Alexandrian people reached out in solidarity with our long time friends and sought to assist in what matter we may. Llyranost has indicated they believe that some of our own were involved in the fall, and so we established this inquest to get to the bottom of the matter and allow ourselves and our people to be informed as to the matter. An invitation was extended to the Llyranessi ambassador, and he has sent a delegate to observe the proceedings."
The delegate, a young-looking (aren't they all) elven man in finery and robes who sits in a cordoned off section of the room along with others who might be called by the inquest to speak.
He does not look happy.
"We ask that you all maintain decorum. People found to be out of order will be silenced or asked to leave. Disruptions will be summarily dealt with. We hope that you can all bear with us as we call our first witnesses."
Seyardu was on her best behavior for such a matter. Being stuck in the district of the stuck up certainly did not help matters in the slightest, and it wasn't like the nobles were in need of the services of the temples often, when most would make donations should they need aid at their own abodes.
The silver makari had opted for a forest green gown to accompany the ever creeping pattern of vines on their arm, embroidered around one side with blue roses. The only accessory with the dress being a rather simple leather choker with a carved scrimshaw of bone hanging from the front, and another silver chain that disappeared down the front.
The cleric waited patiently near the front, so she could actually see the ongoing events properly. It was a time she was happy for a rather unreadable expression, with how agitated she was feeling.
"Hello Merek, it's good to see you." The whitescale in silver says, her voice much warmer than the cold aura accompanying her. This coolness betrays her near presence to the mul'niessa in heels, whom she greets, "Aryia, good to see you also."
"This one is here as Speaker, representing the Silver Empress." She explains in low tones, "hence the regalia. She will be interested in what transpires; this one does not expect to speak."
She exhales, gazing at the front, "My nest has kept me busy. I have very little idea what is going on."
Cor'lana smiles at Patch as she spots her, and gives her a polite little wave. She also spots Aryia and does much the same for her, too. Oh, there are many people she catches sight of in the crowd and recognizes--but it'd be awfully rude to speak up and grab their attention.
But she does look up at the elven delegate on stage and frowns at him. If violet eyes could suddenly be turned into drills, she'd be boring holes into him.
Alas. She must be content with feeding Pothy and keeping him calm. "We're here to support Seldan if he shows," she murmurs to Pothy. "Remember that." It's... a partial reassurance to herself, too.
Maintain decorum? Aryia? She grinds her teeth, shifting on her heels. But the whitescale's greeting makes her refocus, and she looks up. Gold painted lips crack a smile, and she offers a wave.
Gestures follow, the gist understood. "I see. I'm here for me. You look nice. How is the nest by the way?"
Others she spies are given a wave, but the delegation still gets her resting Aryia face. <Handspeech/Tongues>
Patch purses her lips at the entire situation, dull eyes roaming the unfamiliar faces that sit in the sealed section. She keeps her tongue, no rudeness, and waiting to see what's going to be brought up during this inquest. Arms are soon crossed before her, sitting back in her seat, ears given a flick while in thought.
It's Cor'lana whom causes Patch's gaze to break, noticing the wave and returning it with a small smile. "Many of us are here in solidarity and support." Patch's hushed tone offered to comfort the other woman. "Do not worry too much." trying to not draw attention as she falls quiet.
Merek nods a little bit to the sith'makar, while he turns to listen to what people are doing. "I'm... Mostly here for whatever I'm needed for," he answers, while he places both hands along his pockets, thinking.
It starts off slow.
The first witnesses are villagers from the border communities of the Greatwood. They talk about when the Veil fell, and when the 'woods' woke. Things happened. Elementals, angry spirits, fey, all awoke and took to causing trouble. Some were less dangerous than others, but it was all sudden danger, and all because the Veil fell. Alexandrians came to help, they say, while they received precious little immediate help from Llyranost. It did come, but it was ... slow to arrive. Establishing. It takes a while to get through this, but they're laying foundations for the day the veil fell and its consequences, all of which isn't pretty. The Llyranessi delegate looks unhappy.
A late arrival: a delegate from the Mythwood. She takes a seat in the back, observing.
Another consequence is spoken of. The veil fell, and shortly thereafter a considerable number of shadow elves started to appear to be on the move, rousing themselves from their hidden communities. No one knows why, but they're suddenly *out there*, doing things. Reaching out to local communities, establishing ties, talking. In ways they hadn't before.
Cryosanthia listens attentively, hands folded, her tail low, legs straight and head held high she stares with unblinking sapphire eyes as the witnesses provide their testimony. She takes no notes, her memory was exercised over years and when it fails, there are spells. All she must do is monitor.
In the quiet moments, she slips in replies. To Aryia, "Restless and busy, in a good way. With a strange new addition. I'll explain later." To Merek, a knowing sort of nod and another cold exhale of breath. No need to echo what he's voiced, she's here for whatever she's needed for too.
Cor'lana, Seyardu, Patch, receive a slight nod and a hand raised in greeting, should they look her way. The proceedings proceed, and the whitescale does her imperious best not to disrupt them. Rampant socializing might.
A little bit wouldn't hurt though, she gestures at Aryia, "Those elves your fault?" It's hard to tease with fingers. <handspeech>
"I am simply here to listen and see what all the sides have to say." Seyardu notes. "There is much that can be learned by what people feel should be shared, what should be omitted or glossed over, embellished, or lied about entirely."
"There are many people with many opinions on the veil falling, and their opinions need to be acknowledged. Within reason, of course. And I will not allow any nobles in the area to throw whoever they feel under a busboy."
Stjepan slides in at the back of the room, dressed in a formal coat and trousers of bright blue, striped with white, then stops there, seemingly intent on not blocking anyone's view. Besides, someone's got to hold the walls up.
Living, breathing evidence of the latter was present in the audience, Aryia having been slowly working on building a little community of pugilists. Nothing on paper yet, but the feelings were there. She frowns at the lack of Llyranost aid, or at least the slow moving nature of it.
Seyadu gets a wave and a nod, but she can't but smiles at Cryo before giving a quirk of the head at the mention of an addition.
She blinks at the gestures, then shakes her head at first, ponders, then shrugs. She makes a cheeky 'maybe' wobble of the hand.
The time for silence, and it's odd that the bard is the one who keeps the murmurs to herself after it begins in full. Patch listens, taking in the scenes painted by the speakers with a raised brow. Some interest is in the talk of activity from a certain relative breed of elf, and a narrowed glance as she can't help but shake her head. She was about to open her mouth, but she stops. That is not her matter to fight it seems. Nope, play by the rules. Respect others wishes. It's hard stuff.
Cor'lana nods to Patch's murmuring. "I just... You've seen me before, sister," she responds quietly to Patch with a smile that's paired with slightly sad brows. "I don't like it when my friends are being put through things they shouldn't go through. He's a hero. All of them are. And yet look at how they're being treated..."
But then she has a small smile on her face as the Greatwood villagers talk about the adventurers that arrived to help and the lagging Llyranost efforts to aid their own people. "We did a good job then, Pothy," she murmurs to him. He gets a slightly bigger fistful of dried berries for the happy memory.
"During this time, the Llyranessi approached us indicating some of our own might be responsible and they wished them for questioning. However, they proved incredibly difficult to find. In the meantime, we sought to continue aiding Llyranost in its difficulties and when it was able to respond, we backed away to cede to them their wishes. When we finally did locate the adventurers in question, we spoke to them at length about their experiences. We have learned a great deal and so now we will call out to Seldan, Malik, Stjepan and others to share their tales of their journey from the Greatwood to the Forest of Whispers, and what the consequences of that may be."
The Llyranesi ambassador looks even *less* happy than he did moments ago.
Merek listens to all he can about the information, though he doesn't input on it at the moment. He does look to Cryosanthia, and tilts his head a bit, asking quietly. "What do you make of this all?" With that, he will take a moment to pull out parchment and write on it.
"I don't know Merek," Cryo exhales, shaking her head slightly. The weight of her mask reminds her of its presence. She stiffens, blinks once, her pupils pulsing as she hears the names. Her tones are much more formal, "This one is here to witness, not speculate, not judge."
"Our local adventurers acquitted themselves well, it would appear. This one wishes to hear of the consequences also." The fingers of her left hand tap lightly at her thigh, Cryo's tailtip also seems unable to remain still.
Cesran is here standing in the back with an escort of two guards to watch over him to make sure he doesn't try any funny business. He's been allowed to keep his staff, but has given his oath not to use magic during the proceedings. He leans a little on his staff as he just observes for now, his eyes slowly sweeping back and forth over the chamber, taking it all in.
It's at this time that another figure enters from an antechamber, a figure that many will recognize, though none have seen him in such attire. Rather than the blue and silver of his goddess that Seldan so often favors, he wears tailored doublet and breeches in the style of the Myrrish well-to-do, the fabric fawn-colored with gold trim. An understated and yet classy look, the steel crescent and sphere around his neck worn prominently over all.
"I am Seldan Padaryn, servant of Ni'essa Sky-Singer," he begins, coming to a stop at the center of the room, before Council and delegation alike, and assuming a parade rest stance. His mien is serious, focused, and reserved. "I shall share that which I know of the Veil and her desertion of the llyranesi with all present, and I invite any present who wish to do so to discern their veracity."
An interesting turn of phrase, that.
"I first sought the aid of the llyranesi on the matter of a warlord seizing power in Charn. He was aided by a magical artifact that enabled him to see the truth of all that he looked at, and discern the connections between those he studied and those around them. Such a power makes all deception against him impossible, and he was turning that power to his own ends, seeking conquest and the crushing of all who opposed him. I name him not here, for the safety of all, but know this - I am bound and directed to ensure that items of power such as that are responsibly used, and to oppose those who turn magic and items created with it to selfish or evil ends."
"In order to get close to him, to wrest such an item from him, ere he crush all in his path, I sought the aid of the llyranesi, and those with me accompanied me to that end, in the hopes that the nature of the Veil might guide our hand to create a magic capable of shielding us from his sight. The Veil did not conceal Llyranost from us, and we came openly in good faith. The llyranesi, however, were not inclined to aid us. It was in my mind that we would have been turned away, save only that the Veil herself bade them bring us before her, and they dared not refuse."
"I say _she_," he goes on, "for in truth is she who is called the Veil of Llyranost is no mere magical effect, but a living being, born of the will of Ni'essa and a fragment of the spirit of Animus who is no more. This all did she tell me, when she bade me touch her. She did not name herself to me, then, and later in my tale shall I tell you how I came to learn her name."
"She bade me take her from that place, for Ni'essa had set to her a task, a mission that she wished to fulfill, ere she passed away. For being of the spirit of Animus, who is no more, she too is fading, and will eventually pass away."
Malik steps in behind Seldan, entering when his husband does. The wizard wears his usual put-upon expression, looking around the room like he's being asked to engage in some manner of tedious chore far beneath him. Rather than his usual muted colors, however, he's chosen to wear the brighter, sometimes seemingly clashing colors of his tsuran heritage, including a few fine pieces of bead and stone jewelry.
Even when Seldan starts to speak, though, he stands close to the other man rather than finding a seat, arms patiently crossed. But the expression darkens as the story is recounted in such a way once more, a small shake of his head. It's no secret that he was party to a great many of these events himself, and probably has a few Opinions on the subject. He has them on practically every other one, after all, and has never been afraid of sharing them.
"That there, is why we need not worry about such things Sister." Patch says to Cor'lana about the sudden display, left smiling wide after Seldan's and Malik's entrance. She even dares to clap in a relaxed and foppish manner in her excitement to see Seldan defend himself and others. Also it's partly for revealing the truth about the veil. "Let them object, and see how it sits with everyone. This... is where the show begins." she says to the raven-haired woman with a coy grin. "If it's one thing an adventurer should know, it is when to leverage drama."
Stjepan pushes off the wall, and comes forward behind Seldan and Malik, arms crossed and face a mask. He listens to Seldan, head bobbing from time to time as he hears things he knows of.
Cor'lana brightens just to see Seldan and his husband on the scene, listening to Seldan with rapt attention. And, of course, when Stjepan reveals himself, Cor'lana gives him a big smile, too--although she doesn't wave at him. "Indeed," she murmurs to Patch. "I'm excited to watch the metaphorical fireworks."
Pothy... looks at Patch for a moment. And he does something a little daring. He does a little hop and lands on the bard's shoulder, murmuring something into her ear, but otherwise he behaves.
The mul in the crowd has only heard part of the story. She understood the significance of what actions were undergone with the Veil, but never the full picture. She's white knuckling, only stopping to breathe calming breaths near the end. But still, the implications of the veil's sentience being held against their wishes. It strikes too close to home.
Gold painted lips are pursed taut, glowing gaze fixated on the delegation.
Cesran listens to Seldan's account with great interest as the Veil turns out not to be some mighty spell or ritual but an actual living being and one tied to both the former god of magic and the current one. He leans in a little bit, which make his guards shuffle a bit in place.
The whitescale watches. Her fingers will not still. When they do, her tail movements become greater. Cryo's nostrils flare and her heavy jewelry chimes as some pieces ring off others. She strives for tranquility, listens with great focus. This is the full story to flesh out the pieces she heard earlier.
Her bigger picture remains unclear, even with her other pieces.
The crowd has a lot of reactions. There's hushed whispers. There's shock. There's staring. The mythwood delegate, an elven woman cloaked in the color of the wardens of the ways, hardly seems surprised. Perhaps this isn't news to her.
The Llyranessi ambassador looks particularly stone-faced. Scoffs.
Seldan is encouraged to continue, and the others will be questioned as well to share their partse in the tale.
Seyardu has little to say for the time being, as the others telling their story is what matters at the moment. So she does what she needs to, and listens, watching the reactions of the crowds to the stories as she too is attempting to parse what happened. It was difficult to believe, and yet, not so.
"This did I do, for no more than they would I refuse the will of such a one, and I hold it unconscionable to hold an intelligent spirit against its will. Such is the stuff of the most evil and reprehensible of magics. Knowing the anger of the llyranesi, I took my companions and fled that place. Alone among my companions did Mikilos Mithralla refuse to aid in the task the Veil had set to me." Seldan continues to speak, steadily and inexorably, eyes seeking out the Council members and the delegate each in their turn.
"She directed us to the Forest of Whispers, where the bulk of the mul'niessa dwell, and bade us seek their heart. With her aid, and at her direction, we took a secret passage into the heart of the tree at the root of that forest, to find that which she sought to reach, to rescue. Her brother, one named Menesil. Lost in illusions, in regret, in his own failures and the refusal to acknowledge them did we find him, and break his illusions, that he might face the truth of himself.
"This did he do, and we with him, that the power of the Tempter over him might be broken. For indeed is the name of the Veil Caeldra Dawncaller."
Malik chimes in with his own thoughts. "The Ilyranesi were well-aware of the nature of the Veil. Or at the very least, left themselves deliberately ignorant despite strong suspicions, burying their heads in the sand so as not to have to face the truth. They don't have to lie to the rest of the world if it's a lie they've told themselves until they believe it to be a truth."
The wizard turns and gives the delegate a pointed stare, holding the other man's gaze a moment before turning back to the crowd. "I'm sure that they'll say they had no such ideas, or that they might have known the nature, but that she was treated well and taken against her will. I'm here to put those rumors to rest before given time to sprout."
A glance to Seldan and Stjepan. "The Veil herself aided us against the elves, helping provide safe passage through the Forest of Whispers, aiding our allies, averting the gaze of only those she knew would pose a challenge to her own mission. A sensible creature seeking her freedom after being treated like a prisoner for --" He doesn't even give a rough timeline for how long it must have continued.
Stjepan's voice spills out into the room. "He was trapped by the chains of the Shadow Sorceress on the mul'niessa. We went into his dreams, his mind, and fought things with him, for him -- Menesil, that is. When we freed him, we loosened the bonds of the mul'niessa as well." He doesn't have a lot of words to share, and from the look on his face remembering -- deep grooves between his brow and across his forehead -- he remembers much.
Cryosanthia startles, a light chiming. She dips, lowering her head to whisper, "Elf lore. Caeldra was one of the Dawncallers who fought over the first tree. She's the genesis of the dawn elves, her brother Menesil the shadow elves."
Her head turns, to glance at Merek then Aryia, a seer and a Mul'niessa. She might as well tell her grandmother how to suck eggs, they would know this better than her. "Never mind..."
Another piece clicks into place. The whitescale straightens, then calls out loudly to the front of the room, "This one is curious. It is known that Rune copied the Llyranost Veil. Is it known if that means another is serving unwillingly?"
Aryia cannot help but stare at this information and the various reactions of others thereof. Her nostrils flare. Hands fold under arms. Best to mute her only way of speaking. Any idle comments she had about the matter would get her quickly booted out. It'd just be filled with cursing certain peoples and threats of violence. But that'd be uncouth. Was that really necessary right now.
A breath Out to stifle her rising temper as others speak to the delegation, gaze softening as they speak of Menesil. Then Stjepan gives his two silvers. It was plain to see the slight fist pump that Aryia makes, her nodding in whole hearted agreement about the state of mul'neissa.
A glance to Cryosanthia, a thumbs up confirming the sith-makar's elf lore. But she too was curious of that question.
Patch raises a hand to lightly pat the Pothy on her shoulder. "Indeed she is." nodding, but then pausing with a twitch of ear and looking back at the bird. "You too, little goof." she says with a wink. "Things are getting juicy. Let's pay attention." Mikilos being called by name is noted, a single twitch of ear, and then as the story switches from Seldan, to Malik, and then to Stjepan, Patch is left biting on her lip, and again crossing her arms before her. It's Cryosanthia whom gets her attention last, left nodding to her question much like Aryia.
Seldan's attention, and his head only, turn towards the call from the crowd. "That do I not know," he answers soberly. "For in truth is this my first hearing of such a copy. It would be well to learn the truth."
He turns his gaze back towards the council, still even, sober, and serious. "Upon our travels, I could converse with her mentally, a telepathy of sorts. I asked her of the fate of the communities within the Greatwoods, within Llyranost, of those who suffered for her departure. She said to me, "they have the resources to defend themselves."
Cor'lana /squints/ at the mention of Mikilos, and her mouth presses into a fine line. She listens anyway, nodding well enough--
And then Cryosanthia speaks aloud the question about Rune, and what color is in Cor'lana's face drains. "Rune did... What?" she whispers in horror. "Gods, please, /no/, that would be..."
Pothy looks concerned for Cor'lana. He looks apologetically at Patch and returns to Cor'lana's shoulder to console her, rubbing against her face.
Cesran continues to just listen and observe. He is a bit surprised that the first Llyranost is revealed to be the Veil. He makes a mental note to do some legwork in investigating the Veil that Rune is apparently using.
Merek does look to Cryosanthia and nods a little bit, "Thank you," he says along for the information, then he's taking the time to relax while he watches and listens. Seems like he is still writing.
The whitescale exhales carefully, gently resting a hand on Aryia's shoulder. It's not as cool around her as it usually is, the touch is light. Cryosanthia notes the reactions of others, seeing Patch, Cor'lana and Cesran's surprise and alarm, Seldan, Malik and Stjepan's determined stoicism. She makes eye contact where she can. "It will be sorted out. There's more to hear."
"Well, this is certainly a lot to take in at once." Seyardu says, mostly to herself, as everyone seems to have said their piece. She does nod to Aryia, however. "Yes, it is something to consider. How the troubles of rune came about, could be linked to Llyranost, could they not? Rune was involved the fall of animus after all, and he was in part involved in what happened to the original veil. But that is just conjecture for the time being, yes?"
The official up front pounds his gavel once. The whispering, the concerning, and well .. the stirring of shit has gotten a bit out of control! It's understandable: bombs are being dropped, but they want the audience to stop trying to throw them themselves!
The Llyranessi grinds his teeth. Hard.
"Thus ends my tale," Seldan nods gratefully to Malik, and inclines his head to Stjepan, more formally but with equal gratitude. Those two stood beside him then, and now, and he will not forget it. "By facing and conquering his illusions, Menesil threw off the yoke of the Tempter, and in so doing, has freed all of his descendants from his fate, and theirs. The souls of the mul'niessa are now theirs to do with as they will, and it is in my mind that they should choose for themselves a more fitting name that they as a people might be known as." A very small smile tugs at the corners of his lips as he speaks. "For in the actions of the Veil has evil been dealt a terrible and lasting blow, and one that the Tempter will not soon forget."
Malik quickly adds, at the end of Seldan's comment about evil being dealt a blow, "And those that claim they walk on the side of righteousness as defenders of the peoples and faiths of the world have an opportunity to show that their claims are more than just words." A heartbeat of pause. "Or that they aren't." It's no mystery where that comment is directed.
Stjepan nods back to Seldan, and to Malik, and refolds his arms across his chest. He looks at the questioners with a tilted head. "So, they're free now, and they know it."
Aryia settles down after the whitescaled hand calms her, the mute lifting her own to rest it atop Cryo's. She nods slowly as more information is unveiled, her casting glances towards the other elves and elf touched kin within the room.
Which, settles on the delegation after hearing Seldan's addition that the country could fend for itself, finding satisfaction they were not enjoying this one bit.
Talk of the liberation of mul'nessian souls evokes a sort of deep seated emotion in the shadow elf of the crowd, her head held painstakingly high as her gold lips quiver. Still a disbelief to feel it happen then. Like a murmur in the shade. But now? It felt official. The news was out. And even though mist builds in her shining eyes, gold eyeliner running down her cheeks, it's hard to clear that smile pulling at her face. She knew it alright.
The emissary of Llyranost looks distinctly unpleased. How could he look anything else? He rises to his feet and storms out the door. Makes a show of it. Seems he has questions about the 'righteousness' of those involved.
"We have chosen to believe the story given to us by our allies and associates. We have done what we can for the people of Llyranost, but we expect there will be a response to this tale." And no doubt the reason for sharing it, as well.
"We take no pleasure in doing any of this." That's probably a big fat lie.
"But the people of the world deserved to hear this tale, as fantastical as it sounded to us as well."
"Here, here," Cor'lana murmurs in firm agreement with Malik, her eyes bright with happiness as she hears the call for the mul'niessa to give themselves a new name from Seldan. "The people are free, and free to choose their own destiny."
She, of course, delivers a pointed glare at the Llyranost emissary on his way out. "Grandfather was right, they /all/ act like toddlers when they're angry," the half-elf comments.
This time, Seldan straightens, his eyes following the delegate out stonily. Impassively, even. He says nothing aloud before the court, but does lean over to whisper something in low tones to Malik, then straightens again and finally speaks aloud. "A fantastical tale, indeed, and yet do I speak of that which I know to be true. Were I crafting a fantasy, it would be less strange." A tiny smile.
Cesran taps the end of his staff against the ground lightly in agreement with Cor'lana's hear her. It makes the guards just back a little and Cesran smiles, "Don't worry I said I wasn't going to do anything and I won't." He does lift his voice though, "Freedom is the right of all sentient beings." He says after the delegate has stormed out and he shakes his head a little bit.
Stjepan watches the delegate go briefly, and shrugs, turning his back on the display. Shameful display. He smiles at the ground in front of him.
"Thank you for creating this forum and allowing the story to be shared." Cryosanthia addresses the Alexandrian court official, dipping her nose indulgingly at the insistence they are taking no pleasure. Her gaze drifts across the storytellers, "Thank you. I have no doubt of your words."
She is regal. Her hands are still, her tailtip is not. Some excitement in the whitescale has sunk down and made her squirmy there; she has something to share. This is not the time nor venue for it.
"This one may need your help, I can't travel much." She quietly tells Merek, Aryia, and also Seyardu who seems near, "Let's see if we can get close to the front, or Cesran."
His staff's antics have drawn her attention.
Seldan watches the display, shaking his head and turning to Malik. "It is as I've said," he tells his husband. "Selfish children, all."
Malik gives his husband a shake of his head in turn, crossing his arms over his chest. "That's unfair, love," he answers. "Children would learn from their mistakes."
Merek nods along to Cryosanthia, "I will do what I can, tell me when you need me," he notes to her. When there's talk of getting closer, he does begin to work his way through the crowd to make a way for the group. He seems curious about the proceeding.
Aryia sobers up from her emotional spillover from her resting Aryia face, a hand wiping off what gold stained tears leaked from her eyes. She gives a sort of confused look at the delegation running out before she rolls her eyes.
She gives a supportive thumbs up from her position in the crowd to the trio that were called forth to speak. She raises a fist in solidarity for Cor'lana's murmured rally, but it falls away to throw Cryosanthia a questioning look. She shrugs, and slowly makes her way closer.
Standing up, the delegate from the Mythwood clears her throat once the Llyranessi is out of the room.
"When our people were last entreated, we refused your offer. I think now we will take it." What offer?
"We will join together the peoples of the Mythwood and Alexandros into a greater union. Tell your leaders. Together, we will secure the realm once and for all. Too long have we dwelled by the side."
Say what now?!
Cesran hears his name and he smiles as he moves towards Cyrosanthia with the two guards following behind him. Being tall for a human and having a staff, that is not above nipping those that get in her way makes it easier for him to get closer. He bows his head politely to Cryosanthia and the others around her, "Peace upon your nest, how may I help? I heard my name." He looks over as the delegate from the Mythwood's make their announcement. "Well that's certainly going to be interesting."
"This one thought it was the job of an emissary to hear a rendered response through." Seyardu notes with a shake of her head. She does stop and raise one brow to Seldan and Malik, before it is shook again. "I would hope to think they were ignorant, as if they are not, they squarely put the well-being of their people above the slavery and suffering of my own. That is an easier thing to consume by far."
The cleric nods, and works on making a broad path ahead of her through the crowd, sweeping her tail behind her to keep the way clear a bit longer. A few shins get smacked lightly in the process.
Cor'lana's eyes light up in complete and utter excitement when the Mythwood delegate makes her proclamation. There's a moment that passes where she seems like she's trying to figure out if that /actually/ just happened.
"Pothy, bite me," she commands.
Pothy hesitates. Cor'lana... is not snacks. But he does it anyway. "Oww, okay, that /was/ real," Cor'lana says, but then she's just... giddy. Giddy and finding it so hard to keep from just jumping up and down or bursting out into song and dance. "Telamon is going to be so overjoyed! I--"
She stops in place. "Oh gods, I hope this doesn't make our wedding into some symbolic diplomatic thing," she says.
Pothy just stares at her. "Too late," he says in her voice. Raven mimicry.
Seldan's eyebrows lift at the information, and he turns to Malik, but he does not seem as surprised as many in the room, nor do his hands drop from their position at the small of his back. Not being close enough to Cor'lana or any of the others to hear comments, he turns his attention to Malik, and something silent seems to pass between them.
Malik's face goes from mild annoyance -- his classic put-upon-wizard-face -- to one of absolute mischief, turning to stare at Seldan as that smile grows a bit. Whatever they're exchanging between themselves, it certainly has him in a good mood. That alone should be enough to worry at least *some* in the room, given their history.
"It certainly will be." Cryo replies to Cesran, as she reaches him and the crowd moves, breaking around her. Many moving heads obscuring her view. She can just keep her eyes on the Mythwood Delegate, projecting a formal reply, "My leaders will be told."
With that said her attention quickly returns to the Archmage. She removes her mask, holding the silver form in her hands, tilting it back and forth, the horn tips moving in the bottom edges of her sight. She smiles, nose dipped, teeth carefully hidden. "Thank you Cesran, my nest is not peaceful but is so in all the best ways. I need some magical assistance, with a... puzzle, I'll explain later. Also, I have an emissary. A Raven Lord."
A what? "With circumstances. When you can make it to Mictlan."
Aryia stops in her tracks at hearing the announcement. Her brows knit. A mental map traces in her head of the nearby places. "... -h sh-t..." she whispers soft, her reaction among the many others in the crowd.
She quirks her head at Cryosanthia's notion of a Raven Lord, eyes flicking towards Cor'lana, but she crosses her arms and rubs her face. Man. What a ride today. She should tell her parents about this.
Cor'lana just looks around in confusion at a phrase she's overheard but misplaced, sort of like fumbling around in the dark during a Theatre District show. "Wait, I heard a Raven Lord? What's a Raven Lord?" she asks to herself.
Pothy's feathers all puff up. "It's me," he says in Cor'lana's voice. He's very proud of himself and his newly-assigned title.
That gets a violet-hued side-eye from the sorceress, and she just kisses him on his fluffy little head. "You know what, you are," she says with a grin. It's a time for joy and a time for laughter--for unions are yet to be made.
The speakers exit as the crowd disperses further.
"An alliance between the two would certainly bolster both quite some bit. Yes, this is certainly... excellent, news?" The cleric trails off, punctuating her confusion with several sniffs at the air. Uncharacteristically, the silver makari growls as she looks up to the ceiling towards a skylight.
"Please forgive me for leaving in haste, but I feel like someone is attempting to do your job Speaker Cryosanthia. Good to see you Aryia, and all of you." She states, waiting for no responses and shoving her way out of the courthouse.
Cesran smiles, "I'm glad that it is unpeaceful in the beast of ways. I'd be happy to help with any puzzle that you have, magical or otherwise. A Raven Lord...I've heard of them, but I have not studied them in any great detail. I'll see what I can find before we next meet. Unfortunately I have to take my leave, no sense in causing my minders any more trouble. I hope to see you soon." He gives a nod before he heads out to depart.
There's a moment of panic, doing her job? Cryosanthia left Lily, Faran, Serendine and Hetz in charge of her Nest. What could have gone wrong? Oh, the other job! "The Silver Empress will be informed."
Except, who would be usurping that? Or does she mean saving the world? Or telling Alexandria... It'll be all right. There's enough world to go around. They'll figure it out.
"Merek, pass news of the new alliance along next time you get your geas renewed. Do you still get it renewed?" She takes his arm, moving him towards the exit and clearing space for anyone accompanying her, "Do you have a teleport left over too, once we're out of abduration? It would help a lot."
"I don't need it anymore, I don't think. And ya, I can do that," Merek offers to the sith'makar, while he nods a little bit. Well it looks like he will be assisting whatever way he can!
