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Open Throne Hours

Grudgingly, Duke Gabriel Bisland will hold an open town hall style meeting in the Assembly of Peers, to answer any questions about the Compact's new treaty with the Nox'alfar and in a likely futile bid to spare his majesty excruciating conversations later.

Date

July 4, 2017, 8:30 p.m.

Hosted By

Gabriel

Participants

Calarian Leona Thena Eirene Orazio(RIP) Samantha Alis Dafne Cambria Khanne Cristoph Turo Freja(RIP) Ysbail Nekarris Aislin Fortunato Donovan(RIP) Ian Eleyna Sophie Arn(RIP) Tikva Shard Caelis Skye Octavia

Organizations

Location

Arx - Ward of the Compact - Assembly of Peers

Largesse Level

Refined

Comments and Log


Donovan steps into the Assembly, dressed in grey-blue tailored attire, shucking his longcoat off his shoulders and folded neatly over one arm as he makes his way through the growing crowd. His path is directed towards the Grayson benches. He doesn't give much mind to anyone he passes, whether he knows them or not.

Eirene's here all right. Leather coat and safety-secured blade and dubious expression and all. The Malvici woman wears her hair twisted into an elaborate braid black, white, and silver pinned up at the top of her head. She makes her way to the seats for her section and eyes the few others in attendance.

Donovan has joined the Grayson Benches.

Khanne is seated on the Redrain benches. She speaks quietly to Ysbail and seems to reluctantly pet the cat sitting between them.

Caelis has joined the Lyceum Benches.

Jiacomo arrives, following Eleyna.

Duke Gabriel Bisland waves the doorguards down as he arrives, grimacing as a herald announces his arrival. He makes a chopping motion with his hand as his titles begin to be rattled off and makes his way to the Voices of the Realm table, seating himself and very pointedly putting a bottle of whiskey and mead on the table in front of him, which he affords a brief look. He clears his throat, looking out at all the nobility and then nodding once as if something was just confirmed to himself. "Thank you all for coming. This might be brief, and I hope to answer all the questions I might so I won't belabor any point excessively. To begin, I'd like to address any questions from other voices of the realm, the representatives of the great houses." He gestures with a hand towards Freja, Alis and Calarian sitting by him, "That would be you lot. Ask, if you have questions."

Freja has been sitting all the while at the table of the Voices of the Realm. The Scout, tunrned Shaman, turned only Voice of her Realm lingers with an untouched glass og whiskey before her. Her expression? Unreadable.

In a nearly unfathomable scenario, Thena, former street rat of the Lowers, is the public face of the Knights of Solace today, her and her strapping guard. He is in full armor with weapons peace-tied; she is in a severe dark gown with military styling. Thena hesitates for a moment, is surreptitiously nudged by her escort, and takes her seat in the benches reserved for the Godsworn.

Eirene's arms fold over her chest as she fixes the Duke Regent etc etc with a glare and leans back in her chair, crossing her legs at the ankle. Her very posture and expression says 'make this good'.

Freja stands up and addresses Gabriel, "If you have the mind, Redrain's faith and Shamans would like to pose moreso a point of...utmost consideration."

Gabriel makes a rolling gesture with his hand towards Freja in an unmistakable, 'yes, yes, continue' gesture.

Alis is pensive, for a moment, as Gabriel begins the meeting and directs their table to ask questions first. Whether she has any questions in mind, since Freja has stood first, she listens to the Voice of Redrain and gives her attention to that.

Joining Eirene, Caelis sits down quietly and looks to her Aunt before Gabriel speaks. She seems to be here to make sure Calypso and Hadrian can be filled in later.

Shard has joined the Commoner Benches.

Calarian is seated at the table with the other Voices of the Realm, jotting down a few notes with a remarkably expensive-looking pen that might even be alaricite. Because Grayson princes. When Gabriel directs questions to him and the other Voices present, he lifts his gaze, but doesn't look like he's about to ask anything. He does look to Freja for her question, though.

On the arm of the ever faithful Jiacomo, Eleyna, swathed in pink and looking as though she's swallowed a watermelon whole, arrives to the Assembly and quickly finds herself a seat among those gathered. Jiacomo leans in and murmurs something to her, but she waves the man off with a motion of her hand and fixes those sharp, icy-hued eyes on the table of Voices and, particularly, on Freja as she speaks up.

Shard slides into a seat high in the commoners seating area, quiet and attentive--or blatantly curious, more like.

1 Trained Telmar Armsmen arrives, following Arn.

Eleyna has joined the Lyceum Benches.

The Count of Navegant looks on with an ever patient and ever watchful gaze from the the Thrax seating. Turo isn't saying much, but then again, he doesn't need to. He's here to listen and to take personal notes.

At mention of a point of utmost consideration that is relevant to both the Faith and the shamans, Sophie is all eyes and ears, keenly resting her attention on Freja.

While typically avoiding such gatherings, the Duke of Telmar must find something redeeming in this particular meeting of the political minds of Arvum. Such as they are. Storming in through the doors and into the large, vast chambe, Arn Telmar heads straight for the voices table. The old troll glowers at Alis and then takes a seat beside her. Or pulls another chair over to loom behind her. Figuratively. He's not tall. Once seated, he sits ramrod straight and keeps a healthy and suspicious squint on at all times.


Arn has joined the Voices of the Realm.

The Redrain has never been one known for purple prose nor for speaking more than necessary, so Freja's words are succinct....albeit brazen. "The Nox are notoriously, obnoxiously open of their practice of blood magic. Ages ago, to the times of Valeria, we bent a knee to the Compact with the forever held promise that we get to retain our traditions and faith. Blood magic runs in opposition to his - it not only is abhored by our Spirits, but can kill them. By giving them jurisdiction, even in their own damned halls, you are asking the North to turn its back upon our hearts, ages of tradition, and more importantly our Spirits. Tell me - how does this weigh? Are we supposed to ignore it? "

As Freja gives voice to her question, Cambria leans forward upon the bench, elbow resting on knee so that her hand might brace her chin. Her expression is one of clear interest.

Shard crosses her arms over her chest, and raises a single eyebrow.

Gabriel spares a brief nod of greeting at Arn as he sits at the same table then listens to Freja, "I have no expectation that nox'alfar will run amuck in the streets and sacrifice children or perform demonic rites. If that occurs, it would be rightly condemned by the Faith, and while they are here in Arx, I'd expect them to abide by her laws- all of our laws. What they do in their hole in the ground is their business. But yes, just as we would not have tolerated their 'follies' and it ultimately would have resulted in us launching expeditions to exterminate them and being drawn into an uncertain war, they have no leave to violate our laws in Arx." He waves a finger towards Arn, Calarian and Alis, "Any from the rest of the voices before I open to the floor?"

Aislin engages in quiet conversation -- presumably on the topic of Freja's question -- with Donovan at the Grayson benches.

Alis gives her head one quick shake. "No. We are here to observe and hear what questions others have." she answers on behalf of herself and Arn. Hopefully Arn. Please, don't ask any questions Arn.

Thena's brows pull together at that reply...her guard is the one taking notes, but she leans over and stabs a finger at a particular word, which the Solace knight obediently underlines at her behest.

Freja continues, "The impression left by the...well, only missives that the High Lords were given in this along with voices." A hand is placed demurely over her heart. "They couldn't even spare us a conversation face to face, that trusted peacock contingent, but the impression left in written word is that...they would be given free reign on their own 'embassy'? Redrain proposes a motion that all blood magic be forbidden."

From her spot on the Redrain bench, Khanne watches those at the table of the Voices of the COmpact. Her jaw is set tight and misty-grey eyes look on intensely.

Freja adds, "In our walls, in our compact. Our lands. It is ours, not theirs. I for one will not see my faith -murdered- for guest right."

"I believe Princess Freja is concerned with the stipulation in the treaty allowing for the Nox'alfar embassy to serve as a piece of their own homeland on Arx within the four walls of whatever building is eventually constructed," Calarian clarifies for Gabriel. He turns his gaze to Freja, brows sweeping upwards. "I was happy to answer Prince Darren's question when he wrote to me. He didn't ask me to meet face to face or have further conversation on the topic, and I indicated that the next steps of enactment of the treaty would largely be dictated by the Crown itself."

"For now, I'll save my grumbling until later, son." he grumbles at Gabriel with a shake of his head. "Might be hard to tell since I always look like this, but this whole nonsense with the elves is all bullshit. Bullshit, Gabby." Arn grunts, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back in his chair. "I'm not pleased with the way this was done, but all these gods be damned kids are so proud of their ridiculous 'progress' with blood magic-using, simpering, snotty, weird-boned little freaks so who am I to interrupt the self-congratulatory pat on the back you're all giving yourselves." he squints, "Oh, I'm me. I don't have any questions and I didn't save my grumbling to later but the day I sit and say nothing while we're invaded by aliens and foreigners more than we already have been is the day I may as well just jump into the river and let my idiot son run my family into the ground." then he mercifully falls silent, glaring.


Donovan is leant forward in his seat, a fraction anyway. Though he speaks quietly with Aislin it would seem, his eyes and attention is up at the table of the Voices.

Ugarte arrives, following Fortunato.

Fortunato has joined the Commoner Benches.

Freja waves a hand vaguely to Calarian. "Yes. I believe what I am concerned with is quite fucking clear. Blood magic kills spirits. Shamanism honors spirits. Allowing them to practice bloood magic on compact ground or in our city negates a foundation of us joining the compact entirely."

And now, all of those gathered perhaps gain a glimmer of understanding, as to how it is that Alis has gained the superhuman ability to maintain a poker face no matter the time or place. She does, briefly, look at the table as if she would like to test her forehead against it. But, she serenly remains with her hands laced together in her lap and pays allll her attention to Freja again (not Arn); the Redrain's concern obviously weighing heavily.

Gabriel looks plainly at Freja, "The high lords were disappointments the last time the Nox came and I wished to have no chances they would fuck this up for us. I left the diplomacy to trained diplomats, rather than individuals that wished to remind everyone that they feared nothing and would take any opportunity to chase their own pet concern. As for the embassy, they can respect our laws or be ejected by the crown. If actions of the Nox'alfar negatively impact anyone in the city, we will act. Until they do, don't jump at shadows, your highness." He glances back towards Arn and looks at him mildly and comments in the most bland voice he can muster, "The Crown appreciates the valuable insights of the Duke of the Telmarch. Moving right along. Now let's open it the floor. Who wants to speak about something that's not spirits and blood magic and other thing most doubt exist?"

Cambria, whose brows rose considerably as Arn spoke, continues to watch on, gaze passing from one speaker to the other as the rather grave matter brought up by the Redrain Voice was further deliberated.

Eirene's eyes roll at Gabriel's comments, shifting her position in her seat as she mutters to Caelis. Her hand gestures at him in irritation.

Khanne stands up and says, "with all respect, Duke Regent Gabriel, The concern is not just -in- the city of Arx, but in the Compact as well. The lands that bring us all together are the lands where The Spirits Dwell. Will our laws, such as the one Freja speaks of, be held there as well?"

Khanne adds on, "and I do mean, all of our laws. Not just those prohibiting the use of blood magic."

"But now His Majesty is married to some bony-faced witch who is keeping him alive and awake and coherent. Gods bless her for that, but these weirdos have us by the balls, Gabby!" he's known Gabriel a long time, apparently. "I'd do what some crazy she-devil told me to if it meant I got to keep living!" Arn considers, lips pulled down into a deep frown that lines his face. "No one's going to eject the elves and to say otherwise is to treat us like we're morons. I'm annoying and dense, but I'm not a moron. I know it's not your doing, son, and you're doing your duty like I know you always will. And I commend you for that, having to take this poisonous crap and doing your best with this. And I appreciate your holding this meeting to get your ass verbally kicked all night. I expect nothing less of you. But what's been done is toxic." and then he's had his say. "I'm done talking." see?


"Are you, my lord?" Calarian asks Arn mildly.

Mariah, a nanny, 2 Grayson Guardsmen, 2 Armed Confessors arrive, following Tikva.

Tikva has joined the Grayson Benches.

Gabriel gestures two fingers towards Khanne in a beckoning gesture to speak more, "Which other laws are you thinking of, Lady Khanne? We can expect no more harassment or attacks in the Gray Forest or elsewhere."

Freja rises,to her full towering height then, eyes fixated on Gabriel. "I am not a high lord, nor do I speak as its voice now - as a Shaman do I voice my thoughts now. If they practice that which harms our Spirits, we will give them no quarter. If we are to accept their ways blindly, they can fucking swallow ours and choke on them for all I care." And with that, she begins to move to leave.

Aislin continues to speak in an animated manner with -- or possibly /at/ -- Donovan, among the Grayson benches.

Eirene stands after a quick chat with the Voice of Malvici, nodding to Caelis and giving a faint smile. She looks to the front and waits to be called on, clearly wanting to lend her voice. She does, however, look over as Freja starts to take off, scowling at this. Not at Freja per say but the situation.

Nekarris swans in with a parasol, which she passes off with a smile to someone simply standing near the door, who looks very confused and grasps it, simply to keep it from falling to the floor. She hears Freja's proclamation by virtue of timing, and says, "Ooooh, burn."

Khanne lifts her shoulders in a shrug and shakes her head slightly. "All of them. But yes, the one Freja spoke of is one of utmost concern to me, as I am sure you know." And she then shushes as Freja speaks further until the Princess begins to make her leave. "I understand you wish not to talk about the blood magic, and be as brief as you can, but... unwillingness to speak of it, does not make the concern go away."

Gabriel reaches pointedly forward, uncorks the whiskey bottle, takes a long draw, then recorks it and turns towards Khanne. "I respect the belief in northerners about these spirits and other shaman beliefs. If the presence of the Nox'alfar offends your... ah, beliefs later, we can address that. But perhaps your spirits will be fine with them." He looks like a man trying so very hard to give this credulity, "I'm not unwilling to speak of it, but perhaps it would be wise to see if there's any sign whatsoever that any of your fears have merit."

Leaning in, Ysbail stretches up to murmur something gently to Khanne, lifting a hand to give her friend's hand a small squeeze and a soft smile. She then, by all appearances, turns her attention back to her cat, stroking its masses of fluffy fur in a vain attempt to bring it under control.

Freja simply nods to Gabriel and then moves to depart. "At the first offense, or even faint shimmer of the shadow, Redrain will let you know. " And with that, the towering Redrain Voice moves ot depart.

Gabriel points at Nekarris, singling out the woman with a look of consternation, "Lady Nekarris. Can you guarantee that your people won't... upset shaman spirits? Do you have any idea what they are going on about at all?"

Tikva rises from the bench and stands uncertainly for a moment, craning her neck to see if she can determine whether there's a line or how order of speaking is determined. She tips two fingers in the air like -- halfway to a wave, halfway to a handraise. Her expression is best described as, approximately, ???.

"The Crown recognizes the Lady Tikva Riven." Gabriel nods towards Tikva, "Please jump in."

"Bloodmagic enrages, and can kill The Spirits, many of us have witnessed this with our own eyes. I do not foresee such things changing so suddenly. So yes, our fears do have merit, from all that we have witnessed." She pauses, glancing to Ysbail before looking back at Gabriel. "We also wonder, if their guest rights are held within their embassy, what does that mean for any of our own emissaries sent in there to speak with them for whatever reason? We know what they consider fun, would any who enter be at risk of their games?" She pauses again then asks, "the magic keeping King Alaric alive... is that blood magic, practiced not only in the city, but in the Palace? How does this effect the laws of Limerance?"

"Ummm." Nekarris, the obviously (ridiculously) Nox'Alfar newcomer, adopts an expression of great thoughtfulness: finger to her lips, eyes aimed upward. "I'm new to the magic, obviously, since I'm only a couple years old, but it doesn't /kill/ spirits. They don't like it, because it's cannibalism, I think? And that's like, their one thing that's 'forbidden'" She makes the air quotes.

Nekarris adds, belatedly, "Your Grace, hello and thank you and by your leave."

Freja is already gone, alas!

Freja has left the Voices of the Realm.

At the Valardin benches, Sophie continues to listen, the faint furrowing of her golden brows perhaps a subtle concession to a wince, on a few occasions. Generally when Gabriel quasi-dismissively speaks. (It would seem that, like Alis, she is rather immune to Arn's outburst, save for the tiniest, wry twitch at the corners of her mouth.) Summer sky eyes, filled with compassion and some consternation, settle on the the resolute Khanne and departing Freja. At mention of the King and the possible use of blood magic... well, the Mother Mercy, who has spent months treating him, pointedly looks to the Duke Regent for an answer.

"If my understanding of an embassy is correct," Cambria begins from where she sits, speaking loudly enough to be heard by all within the Assembly. "Then the embassy does not enjoy the sovereignty of its represented state or nation. Rather," she glances around before continuing. "The premises usually remains under the jurisdiction of their host nation. As such," and here there is a look between the Redrain contingent and the Regent. "I was under the impression that the embassy of the Nox'alfar would abide by the laws of the Compact, with respect to certain privileges, such as diplomatic immunity. And even then," dainty sniff. "That does not excuse things such as spying or whatever other serious crime that could possibly be committed..." Of course, now realizing that she should have raised her hand, Cambria looks chagrined. Shortly thereafter, she hardly looks all that confident in the answer given by a proposed two year old elf. Maybe this was a mistake.

Shard leans up out of her seat a little so that she can get a better look at Nekarris, as attention is drawn to her.

"Thank you, Your Excellency." Tikva curtseys in a shift of her skirts, and then destroys the formality of the gesture by fluffing at the back of her head and rumpling her hair. "I understand that the balance of diplomacy between peoples must frequently put aside great differences and deep wounds. Insults. Injuries." She ducks her head. "Yet I feel-- I must ask. Is there ... to be any redress for those who were murdered in the Nox'Alfar follies in the Gray Forest? For Princess Peregrine and the others?" Her eyes flicker, saccadic, apologetic, towards Calarian. "Or are those deaths simply to be set aside for the sake of this alliance?"

Eirene's still waiting. The question about the King's health gets her to tilt her head at that, clearly wanting to weigh in on that point.

Gabriel shakes his head, "No, she's done nothing with his blood, or anything out of the usual that I can tell, aside from helping silence the million voices he hears screaming at him apparently from his trauma." He waves to Cambria, "If they do anything offensive to his majesty or his laws, he can eject them, and yes, that includes the laws of limerance as he understands them. Nothing the Lady Symonesse has done appears to violate that. Lady Khanne, if they cause any kind of offense past what the Lady Nekarris claims and she is mistaken, then we can address it." Duke Gabriel leans forward and looks at Tikva, "What happened to Princess Peregrine is a tragedy, and no less to the others. It would be my hope that if their killers ever showed in the Gray Forest again, they would encounter a similar mishap. But we will not demand redress. We would have marched and tried to kill them if it would have done a damned bit of good." He gestures with a hand towards Eirene to speak, "Lady Eirene Malvici."

Thena cuts a look over at the Nox'alfar who strolls on in, a look of open astonishment on her face as the woman moves into the room and starts speaking. Her words are no less astonishing, and it takes a few minutes for the Solace squire to regain her composure, such as it is.

Nekarris waves at those looking at her, amiably enough! She also lingers, standing.

Khanne takes a breath and lets out a soft sigh as she retakes her seat, chewing thoughtfully on the inside of her lip.

Cambria nods her head when Gabriel addresses her, and remains silent for the time being.

Tikva chews on her lip and nods, sitting down again on the bench and crossing her ankles beneath her. She adjusts her skirts and looks very thoughtful, but does not ask any followup question.

Calarian checked composure + diplomacy at difficulty 30, rolling 9 higher.

Skye quietly looks in Gabriel's direction and raises a hand to let it be known that she has a question to pose to the assemblage.

Caelis Malvici leans forward a little looking between Tikva and Gabriel, then to the Nox'Alfar who said she was only a few years old despite appearing to be an adult, how often does that happen? She fingers the pins in her hair idly and looks from face to face listening deeply.

Shard tips her head just a little to one side. Her eyes narrow thoughtfully, but her expression is more or less openly fascinated, and she doesn't show any sign of self consciousness about it. For now, Nekarris's presence has clearly distracted her from the actual meeting at hand.

When the subject of his late wife enters the conversation, Calarian's chin tips a bare inch, but his expression remains unmoving as he watches Tikva and then Gabriel for the Duke's response.

Ian was watching Nekarris before she waved. He continues to watch her after she has done so. There's interest in his impossibly blue eyes, but the full force of his focused gaze holds no other emotion but calm.

Eirene shoots the 'infant' elf a dirty glare before looking back to Gabriel. "As Minister of Health of the Compact, the health of our people is my upmost concern. So the health of the fucking-- excuse me, health of the King is the Upmost Upmost fu-- concern." She glances at Sophie for a moment with a nod before looking away. "One - why is it, now, that they can cure him? I was under the impression there was jack and shit they could do. And two - they made him this way. Why are we going 'Oh thank you -SO- much for fixing him? What assurance do we have they aren't CONTROLLING him if we can't even have a solid conversation with him when they're not there? What fucking magic are they doing, first of all 'Fourth Law' second, how do we -know- it won't come at expense of his soul. I was under the impression all their magic involved blood magic. And we know how that is."

Calarian does look to Cambria to add mildly, "Your understanding is not quite accurate. Each of the Great Houses, for instance, retain sovereignty in their wards within Arx. Otherwise there are certain practices that would not be occurring in the city already."

A messenger arrives, delivering a message to Turo before departing.

Nekarris gives Gabriel a deeply sympathetic look.

Thena narrows her eyes at the elf when she waves, then leans forward and focuses her attention intently on Eirene. When the woman is done speaking, that attention turns to Duke Gabriel for his reply.

Penelope, Ariadne, 3 Rubino and Zaffria guards arrive, following Dafne.

A messenger arrives, delivering a message to Turo before departing.

Aislin looks as though she's visibly biting her tongue at this point.

In the time honored tradition of Good Cop/Bad Cop (or, in this case, healers), it's probably not difficult to determine which is Eirene and which is Sophie. The latter returns the former's glance with a decisive nod of encouragement and unspoken 'I've got your back' before she quietly watches and listen to what has been said and what will be said.

"For the purpose of being brief," Cambria says in reply to Calarian. "I did not think it wise to delve into the more intimate details concerning the law in diverse regions of the Compact, when, chiefly, Crown law would apply to an embassy here within the capital." She then inclines her head to the Grayson prince. "However, you are of course correct, and perhaps I should have spoken more directly."

"Ha!" Arn erupts in a burst of laughter that screams vindication, a gnarled fist slamming down onto the table before him. "The old Malvici hag's got the right of it!" that was unnecessary, but Arn is happy for a moment. "There are a lot of ridiculous questions that don't seem so ridiculous. Hell, twenty years ago, you ask me about these freaks and I'd say they were stories my mother told me. Four years ago even! But here you go, we got one right here, mysterious and shifty as a moonless night." he gestures at Nekarris, "So these questions aren't so ridiculous anymore. They're damned important. No way for you to really answer them, though, son." he says with a bit of a sympathetic frown at Gabriel and his perceived predicament.


Nekarris gives Arn a bit of side eye and edges further away from him, like he might be contagious.

"Please, if you've ever spent ten minutes talking to his majesty, you'd know full well how you can tell if he's being controlled or not. Be that as it may..." Gabriel lets out a long breath before continuing, "I'm sympathetic to your concerns as Minister of Health. As I'm sure you're aware, the Lady Sophie, Shaman Cybele, and Marquessa Samantha and numerous other healers visited his majesty hundreds of times during his coma and then during his madness that followed his waking. His coma was not, in fact, broken by the Nox'alfar, and we apparently have some of the Faith to thank for that." Gabriel looks longingly at his whiskey bottle for a minute but resists the urge to grab it before continuing, "I had two goals and two goals only for treating with the Nox'alfar. That they stop doing follies in the Gray Forest, and killing members of the Compact, that would force us in to war, and to see about any help for his majesty. That is all. The treaty that was made is a nearly word for word copy of the original, and if that was good enough for our greatest leaders, it should serve. That madness that followed was an unfortunate side effect of his original ordeal. And under no circumstances was I going to risk putting us into war, or not restoring his majesty. Any less than that would be a treasonous abandonment of duty."

Alis absolutely punches Arn in the arm, then. "Old Malvici hag? So rude! Lady Eirene is awesome." she hisses, in a voice barely above a whisper. She's wearing gauntlets, too.

Shard settles back into her seat, but she's still leaning forward, and if anything, even more intent on the goings on. Her eyes flit from person to person as they speak, and occasionally back to Nekarris as her attention shifts.

Dafne is late, but, well, she's Lycene. The little duchess enters quietly--it's possibly worthy of note the Assembly is one of the few places she feels deserving of enough respect she doesn't bring her kitten within its walls--and hesitates for a moment, looking between the Lyceum bench, the bench of the Faith--and that of the Voices. It is the latter she approaches after that brief hesitation, her dark head held high as benefits a Voice of Velenosa.

Eirene says, "Yeah. I know. I -asked- about seeing him and was rejected." Her glower is fierce, and briefly turned on Arn for calling her old. Yes, she has hair that's streaked with white and silver, but she hides her age well. Or is just aged prematurely. "I'd be more than happy to examine the king with AND WITHOUT his elven nursemaid to give myself and my office the satisfaction that he is recovering."

Dafne has joined the Voices of the Realm.

Ysbail rises up from her own seat, stepping forward and lifting a hand towards Gabriel, a silent motion to be recognized.. in proper order, of course.

Both Alis' gauntleted punch and Gabriel's calm confidence seem to content the Duke of Telmar for the time being, Arn simmering down and staring over at the elf so he can get his glower on.


Nekarris applauds Gabriel. She actually applauds. "Sensible goals, well accomplished. You hardly ever see that, right?" The person she looks to for validation just hands her parasol back to her. Nekarris takes it, unperturbed.

"I'm certain his majesty would be happy to meet with individuals to put their fears to rest, Lady Eirene" Gabriel says mildly, "But when you go, you should show him the respect that he's due as the crown, or you'll wind up in the Bijoux. Don't insult our majesty or his future wife." He asks, "All right, who's next? Lady Ysbail? Duchess Dafne? You two, if I saw correctly." Gabriel pointedly ignores the applause as he motions for more to speak.

Eirene says, "King's the king. He'll get all respect he's due. So will she." Whatever -that- means. Since the Duke Regent is dismissing her, she settles back in her chair. She glances at Caelis and mutters, off topic, "I already volunteered the first time, rememebr?"

Gabriel gestures towards Skye, "And Lady Skye. Blackshore, isn't it?"

Aislin raises her hand as well.

Skye waits her turn to have her say and then carefully stands up so she can address the peerage. She holds the journal in her hand, she keeps a careful eye on Gabriel and not the Nox'Alfar elf present as she addresses the floor, "Yes, Lady Skye Blackshore Your Grace." She gives him a respectful look, "I do believe I am next." She gives an apologetic look to Ysbail and Dafne, "I would like to circle back to the concerns that the Great Houses were not consulted when this treaty was formed. I understand the Crown's frustration over the last meeting with the Nox'Alfar peace negotiations; however, one event should not stall all the years that the Great Houses have come together in Arx to support Crown and Compact. The Crown made a decision that affected the Great Houses based on the actions of a few. Yes, there was difficulty in the past, but that should not preclude partnership in the future. We must make effort to stand for tolerance, moderation and respect for others, even the Nox'Alfar; however, if we do not respect the Voices that come to the table, then we run the risk of losing freedoms. Freedom to have a say in treaties that the Crown makes with others. Freedom to provide different points of views. I ask that the Crown considers the damage that was done when the Great Houses were not invited at the table for negotiations, and make efforts in the future to avoid such grievances. What assurances can you provide that the Great Houses will not be excluded in the future negotiations that affect the lives of those in the Great Houses?"

Tikva checked composure + etiquette at difficulty 15, rolling 4 lower.

A messenger arrives, delivering a message to Turo before departing.

Tikva squeaks into a sudden laugh and then claps her hands over her mouth.

Calarian checked composure + etiquette at difficulty 25, rolling 32 higher.

Aislin checked composure + etiquette at difficulty 20, rolling 25 higher.

Sophie does her best to cast a soothing look at Eirene, but one might get the sense that her relief at the King's recovery is still tinged with an unvoiced concern. And then it circles back to politics, with Skye's words, and that's the kind of thing Sophie's sister Isabeau is for. All the same, she continues to keenly watch and listen.

"None, it does not effect them. All the Nox'alfar activity was in the Crownlands, which is held by House Grayson, and the marriage was between the Crown and the Nox'alfar." Gabriel answers evenly, without inflection, "It does not effect them, none of this was happening on their lands. They should respect the crown and remember their place."

Donovan checked composure + etiquette at difficulty 15, rolling 9 higher.

Eirene snorts a laugh of amusement at something as she crosses her legs again, pulling a flask out of her coat and taking a drink.

"So this treaty is with the Crownlands and House Grayson and not with the other Great Houses?" Skye gives him a gentle, but firm look, "Thank you for clarifying the matter." She then carefully takes her seat and allows someone else to take the floor.

"The Crown speaks for the Compact. It always has, and always will." Gabriel answers crisply, "If it is a matter that effects their land and potentially the rest of the Compact, then the great houses must be involved. If it happens only in one of the five kingdoms and no other, then it is that highlord's affair alone and whoever they choose to involved. This is how it has always been, and will be, unless his majesty chooses to change it. But I damned well was not going to buck tradition on his behalf for fear that some individuals who demolished it last time would feel slighted."

Aislin pulls out a flask from one of her belt-pouches, and takes a good big sip.

Thena checked composure at difficulty 15, rolling 2 higher.

Yep, that's all Turo needs to hear. That answered a lot of questions for him, causing him to. just sigh heavily. Like Eirene, he plucks his own glass out of his long-coat, taking a long pull out of it. Looking disappointed? Yeah, the Admiral does.

Eirene calls out, "Isn't that a contradiction though? It's happening to -all- of us, if we have to have an Elven queen and lend forces to them IF they call on us. THAT involves the rest of the Compact."

There's a little snork of a noise from the direction of Thena; if anyone looks over though, she's rubbing at her nose like she just sneezed.

Gabriel says, "The king is not going to ask the high lord's opinion his choice of bride unless he damned well chooses to do so."

Nekarris whispers, "Boom."

"The treaty is with the Crown and the King, who is the liege lord of the Great Houses," Calarian says, his voice mild. "As I'm sure you don't expect an invitation to negotiations your own direct liege lord may be conducting."

Fortunato rouses from his drawing to draw a glance specifically at Eirene, his forehead furrowing.

Dafne murmurs, quietly, as she settles at the Voices' table, "When I give orders for a field to be plowed, I generally do not assemble a council of field mice."

Arn shakes his head and grunts, casting a look over and up at Gabriel, "The treaty is signed by you as regent on behalf of His Majesty for the compact. You can't tell us to sod off on the one hand and also have a treaty for the whole Compact on the other!"


Aislin looks as though the very idea of a given house having to get buy-in from all their vassals on any potential marriage is causing her to develop a migraine.

Tikva checked composure + etiquette at difficulty 20, rolling 12 lower.

Ian says something softly to the other Thrax nobles in an even tone of voice, but with a slight shake of his head.

"Of course he can, he's the bloody Regent," Tikva says. "It's literally his job."

Eirene's eyes roll, about to say something -else- but she just sighs. "Answer the second part then," she says reasonably, even in a polite tone.

Nekarris giggles.

Gabriel seems to be taking a great deal of effort in speaking slowly and keeping his tone measured, "Yes, any liege can call their vassals to war, that is how we work. But I have no expectation that his majesty is going to ask all the great houses to follow him into battle against the mushroom people or whatever in the name of the Pantheon the dark elves might be fighting. We are at peace. We just destroyed the vast majority of Abandoned tribes within hundreds of miles of Arx, and their power is crushed for a generation. No one expects the words of five hundred years ago to be more relevant today, but if his Majesty feels we are called to war, then yes, we will follow it against some mysterious foe that as of yet does not exist."

Eirene raises her hands in a little gesture of surrender, clearly not satisfied with the answers she hears but not pressing the issue further. The Malvici just takes an even longer drink off her flask and settles back into her chair.

Arn is overheard praising Gabriel for: Mushroom people!

Reese has joined the Grayson Benches.

Orazio has joined the Godsworn Benches.

Gabriel gestures for hands, "Who else has questions? Just shout them out, as you like."

Nekarris out and out laughs, at that. Her hand goes up. "OH! Shout them out. Are you married, Duke Regent?"

Gabriel just looks at Nekarris, "Next question."

Seated calmly, Caelis looks from speaker to speaker and back to Gabriel. She frowns a little, taking in all she hears and considering the answers given to them. "Actually, to that, the treaty put forth and signed says once a generation a Peer of the Compact will marry one of them. Will that just be House Grayson then, Duke Gabriel, or will the King be able to insist the other Houses share the burden?"

Samantha has joined the Grayson Benches.

Aislin pinches the bridge of her nose again.

Turo can do nothing beyond rub at face, hand dragging down before taking another pull from his flask.

"By law, no one in the Compact can be compelled to marry." Gabriel looks towards Caelis, answering calmly, "But I'm certain in a generation's time, they'll ask for those interested. I think out of our thousands of nobles, one might be willing to suffer that terrible fate."

Ysbail smiles warmly over to Skye, inclining her head. "Of course, Lady Skye, you were indeed ahead of me." Waiting through Skye's concern and Gabriel's response, she looks back to Gabriel when her turn arrives. "Duchess, Regent. My marriage may have been quiet... but it has occurred. I speak as Duchess Ysbail Crovane, Voice of Crovane." Ysbail offers the reminder gently but firmly, looking to Gabriel. "First, I will apologize. I know you must be tired of having the same subjects broached, but since the majority of us are not privy to all the details of dicussions and talks that have occurred, we're understandably confused and upset at the sudden changes being wrought in the city without warning or notice." Pausing, she draws in a breath and offers, "I was not born of the Compact. I was born Abandoned, shav'arvani... shav, as you call them. Raised to fear and avoid the Compact folk for fear I would be killed simply for being *alive*. Because I was *different*. It was that very difference, the shamanism you are so quick to dismiss as quaint superstition and ignorant folklore, the guidance of the spirits you just questioned the existence of mere moments ago... that drew me to bring my family, my whole *tribe* to the doorstep of Crovane to bend the knee. To join the very strangers that not a year before I would have sworn would kill me sooner than look at me. I created a March comprised wholly and completely of Prodigals that had lost their tribes and families to Brand's army. This is the strength of my belief that the Compact is at its base, good and decent, even above the teachings I was raised with." She glances to Nekkaris and offerrs a small nod, "I will not spurn the Nox'alfar out of hand because they are different or ply trade in something forbidden. My own brand of religion was deemed forbidden not too long ago." Looking back to Gabriel, she continues, "But I cannot help but feel that the Crown is more interested in sweeping under the rug everything that has occurred in the name of expediency, and for the *comfort* of our new allies, rather than for the good of its own people. It was mentioned that each Ward acts as its own sovereignty. And that is true, up to to a point. Each Ward, each House, is still bound by the laws of the Compact. We do not get to ignore guest rights or other laws simply because we are within our own Wards. A person killed within Redrain would still be a murder and its perpetrator would be forced to justice. Will the embassy be held to the same standards? Or are they being allowed unprecedentted control within the embassy to do as *they* please, including the flaunting of the laws of the Compact's own Gods?"

Arn says, "Lucky for everyone, I'll be long dead by then!"

Skye has voiced her concerns and now is content to sit and take notes on the gathering. She does glance at Ian and Turo once in a while to guage their reactions to the events.

Gabriel says, "Yes, Lady Ysbail, they would be expected to behave with guest right in Arx, and us to them. I said they will abide by our laws."

Nodding, Caelis seems satisfied with that. She glances towards the Redrain benches having been worried after the issues they levied earlier.

Shard's eyes narrow further, and she turns careful attention to Ysbail. The woman is studied every bit as intently as Nekarris was earlier. Perhaps moreso.

Nekarris waves cheerfully at Ysbail when the woman nods at her. "Awww," she says, seeming genuinely touched by this tiny, tiny modicum of decent person-ness the woman exhibits.

Ysbail nods and offers, "Your signed treaty also expressly says that the embassy given to the Nox'alfar is to be treated as their own, free from the laws and prohibitions of the COmpact."

Orazio rises from where he's quietly taken a seat at the godsworn benches. "I can support Duke Gabriel's statement. No one in the Compact will ever be forced into marriage, nor will any marriage - even if attempted - ever be recognized in the eyes of the gods. Nor, I think, would the Nox'Alfar be particularly interested in such." He nods towards Nekkaris, graciously. Quieting to listen to Ysbail, he smiles. "It surprises me that the nobility of Arx is /now/ concerned about Gild's requirements of guest right." His eyes turn to Gabriel. "I do have a question, though, if the Crown will permit? I am curious if the treaty would permit opening of trade talks or arrangements with the Nox'Alfar, assuming that the Twilight Court had any interests in these."

Tikva has left the Grayson Benches.

Mariah, a nanny have been dismissed.

2 Grayson Guardsmen have been dismissed.

2 Armed Confessors have been dismissed.

Eirene mutters something about the treaty not giving the Compact an Embassy, after all.

Tikva has joined the Grayson Benches.

Ysbail smiles across to Orazio, "I am only new to the Compact, Legate Orazio. But I can assure you, I have been *very* concerned with ensuring that I and my people follow the Compact's, and the Faith's, laws from the moment my family joined the Compact. Those laws protect *my* people as much as your own, Legate."

At the words of Ysbail, Gabriel leans forwards in his chair and folds his hands on the table, "Let us be blunt. Law is, and always has been, precisely what any lord in their domain declares it to be. Whether they can do as they wilt or his majesty has them strung up is entirely up to him. It will be expected that his majesty will give them some reasonable degree of accomodation, but that they in turn will not take any action that is disruptive to us. If you are right and anything about them troubles your spirits, his majesty would be compelled to act. So yes, I understand your concerns, but no, the crown is not going to allow the Nox'alfar to drag babies into their embassy and sacrifice them in demonic blood rites, nor do I expect to take any action that would have a thousand screaming templars banging upon the embassy's doors. Let us be reasonable." He looks towards Eirene, "One is likely, Lady Eirene."

Charlemagne the Unicorn arrives, following Larissa.

Dafne studies Nekarris, with curiosity, but not an impolite one. She leans forward, and smiles at her, addressing her, admittedly a bit haltingly, in Nox'alfar.

Dafne says in Nox'alfar, "Thank you for coming tonight. I apologize for the fact so many of those present seem a bit befuddled on how it is our own government works. Perhaps we need to roll out better educational intiatives."

Aislin has rolled a critical success!
Aislin checked composure at difficulty 10, rolling 11 higher.

Orazio checked composure at difficulty 10, rolling 2 higher.

Ysbail looks back to Gabriel and gives a small shake of her head. "I am not concerned with their blood magic as it pertains to the spirits, Regent. The spirits will let us know in no uncertain terms if they feel offended by the presence of the Nox'alfar or their magic. I am concerned with the health and well-being of any of *my* people that should go to visit the Nox'alfar will not be subject to capricious whim, as what little history we have of the Nox'alfar have shown them to be. To be blunt, in your words, the last time they visited the city, they openly performed blood magic in the streets. If they are to treat the embassy as *free from Compact law and prohibitions* as the treaty *explicitly grants them the right to do*... then how do you intend to guarantee the *safety* of anyone that enters that Embassy?"

Aislin glances over at Dafne, but manages to keep a straight face.

Calarian checked composure at difficulty 10, rolling 5 higher.

4 King's Own Guardsmen arrives, following Leona.

And now Samantha is pinching the bridge of her nose, right along with Aislin.

Orazio's eyes cut towards Dafne, and his lips twitch, although he says nothing.

Donovan draws his longcoat back around himself, paused as one sleeve is pulled on to peer down from the Grayson benches towards Dafne briefly. Well. He's done. And the Grayson Prince makes his way out of the assemby.

Donovan has left the Grayson Benches.

Shard twitches a glance toward Dafne. Her eyebrows lift.

Gabriel nods once at Ysbail, "We have their word that follies are at an end. Entering the Night Grove is again forbidden, but they will not be hunting men outside of it. As to the Embassy, you have the same degree of safety there as you do entering the ward of House Thrax. You are expected to behave as a guest there, and you know full well that the Iron Guard treats the wards with deference of those highlords. The same would be applied to any Nox'alfar embassy. We expect them to obey and respect our laws while present as guests, and I'd damn well not expect anyone to go there without respecting them. It is no better and no worse than the respect we give to any lord with their own household in the city."

Aislin rises, taking her own opportunity to speak. "As a Voice of a Crownlands duchy -- someone whose people live within the Gray Forest, who were at risk of being victims of the follies -- I would like to thank the diplomats who restored the treaty; I know it cannot have been an easy task to settle." The Ashford's pause is just barely noticeable. "But it was necessary, too; /we/ were the ones who broke the treaty, and it was up to us to make concessions to restore it. So my thanks go to the Nox'alfar, too, for being willing to accept a new treaty so close to the original."

"As for my question," Aislin continues, "The Compact is bound to aid the Nox'alfar should the Silence ever rise again, yes? And they're bound to aid us in the event of a crisis in return." She pauses, glancing first to Nekarris and then back to Gabriel, before adding, "What exactly defines a crisis? Is it solely at the Crown's discretion, or are there limitations on what sort of crisis the Crown can beg Nox'alfar aid on?" She winces, as if realizing how odd her question sounds, but she doesn't retract it.

Ferrando has left the Commoner Benches.

Nekarris smiles at Dafne, grins, really - wide and far too fun-loving for such an elfy face. "Aww," she says. "I look forward to it! I mean. To it happening. I am out of here as soon as I can be." She says, louder, to Aislin: "You're welcome! I mean, as much as I can grant. I was human, and I helped pay the Teind to restore what we broke with...us. But. You're welcome!"

Ysbail shakes her head and looks to Gabriel, "Except you traded away the right to *do* anything if something *does* occur, Regent. You gave them the explicit, legally binding right to do exactly as they please, free from ALL Compact law, within that Embassy."

Shard blinks and sits up very straight. She barely seems to notice Ferrando's departure, in the wake of whatever has distracted her.

Gabriel answers Aislin with a breathless quality, "Nothing I hope to see in my lifetime again, so I'm safely dead and you all can deal with it. But something on the scope where the King would feel obligated to call his banners, raising an army of the entire Compact, and then possibly seeking outside aid. As for the Nox, I cannot fathom a time when they would ask us for aid, frankly." He turns back to Ysbail, "If one of Crovane's vassals started sacrificing children in demonic shav rites, would you take no action? It's the same question, Lady Ysbail."

Eirene makes a gesture to Aislin. One that says 'That, exactly.' Otherwise she's keeping her mouth shut. Ysbail does get a thoughtful glance at her replies.

Gabriel says, "When Crovane announces a law in their own lands, it does not put Blackwood under the same. It is the same principle."

"It doesn't matter what *I* would do. I'm not freely granting the right to completely ignore the laws of the Compact, Regent. YOU did that." Ysbail retorts.

Gabriel says, "It is precisely the same thing."

Cristoph has quietly slipped in, settling into the back. Better late than never it would seem. His attention shifts to the front and onto Ysbail and Gabriel's exchange.

Leona steps in, moving professionally in to replace some of the King's Own stationed around the room as customary, listening as people speak to Gabriel and Nekarris of the newly-signed Treaty. Gabriel gets a nod of greeting as she steps around the edges of the room.

Orazio gives Gabriel an openly sympathetic look, sighs, and retakes his seat, leaning over to have a quiet conversation with Thena.

Dafne finds Nekarris' grin infectious; the little duchess's lips twitch upward in a smile brighter than is more common for her. She turns more sombre a moment later, remembering her ducal dignity. "And thank you for that," she adds, in Arvani this time, at the mention of the Teind. Her attention returns to the floor of the Assembly and she listens to the discussion between Gabriel and Ysbail raptly.

"It is not even close to the same thing. If I, as a Crovane, murdered a Blackwood within Crovane's house, I would still be held accountable to the laws of the Compact. Because there is still someone *above* me stating that I must abide by those dictates. That would be *you*, Regent. But you *gave that away* to the Nox'alfar, free of charge," Ysbail raps a fisted hand on the railing. "You can *say* that they are to be held accountable, but you GAVE them the LEGAL right to utterly ignore ALL laws."

Nekarris gives Ysbail a suddenly pitying look. "How did you all actually get WORSE at this in the time I've been gone?" She is just lingering in the walkway near the doorway. With a parasol over her shoulder, presumably for her trip away from the Assembly. " That's actually not how your laws work, Lady. That's not actually how they work at all."

"Oh, we put concerted effort into it," Aislin remarks dryly to Nekarris. "Dedicated practice."

Gabriel pinches the bridge of his nose, "Saying that we don't expect them to be charged tariffs on whiskey imported from Stonedeep or that we will not expect Dust to be confiscated does not mean we intend to tolerate abhorrent behavior. It means we have no interest in it until we are forced to take one." He raises a hand at Ysbail, "You have no idea what you are talking about. Every domain in the Compact has its own laws. Every lord in the Compact passes his own laws. All that line says is the king is not expecting the Nox'alfar to be effected by his dictates."

Gabriel says, "Just because you have no understanding of law whatsoever does not make this a problem."

"Well," Arn pipes up again in a growl, though he's pushing himself to his feet to leave the Voices table. With a kick, he sends the chair back under the table, "this is getting about as dumb as I expected much later than I expected to. Guess that's a win." his expression is vaguely sympathetic as he looks to Gabriel, "Not because of you of course, son. Bad situation all around and no good is going to come from having a bunch of snarky, mouthy witches roaming the streets willy-nilly, but what's done is done. Time to look forward, you dummies. Probably get murdered by some crazy Thrax pirate before we get killed by an elf, but doesn't mean I like it. Rather take a knife to the gut from my own kind. Ah well. Gods damned kids." and then he's stalking on out of the chamber, moving quickly but stiffly.


"The Lady Nekarris is quite correct," Orazio drawls. "And it occurs to me that it is time to encourage the Scholars to create a special class for legal issues in the Compact, as a public service."

Reese has left the Grayson Benches.

Arn has left the Voices of the Realm.

1 Trained Telmar Armsmen leaves, following Arn.

Alis watches Arn leave, ever his irascible self. And, continues to make the occasional note, but no comment as yet. One might catch an eyeroll now and then, but it's really quite unclear where it's being directed.

Leona wonders aloud, "Why would we need another special class for legal issues that have existed since the Compact was written?"

Gabriel raises a hand, "At any rate, who else has questions that I might have missed. Open floor."

Samantha shoots Gabriel a look of rueful pity. It's like he's offering himself to have arrows shot at.

Ysbail just shakes her head, "I understand it just fine. You claim you're giving them the same accomodation as any other High Lord has within their Ward. But none of the High Lords, to my knowledge, has any history of making unrealistic demands of blood and body for verbal slight. None of them can *kill with a flick of their hand*. You cannot take back *dead*, Regent. Not for us. We're not them, after all, and do not come back quite so easily." Snorting indelicately, she departs from the assembly.

Ysbail has left the Redrain Benches.

Gruffudd, A Large Maine Coon Cat leaves, following Ysbail.

Aislin checked composure at difficulty 20, rolling 3 higher.

Orazio smiles at Leona, but reconsiders whatever he was about to say. Instead, he looks to Gabriel. "Ah, if you have time - my question regarding the treaty's stance - if any, on organizations or Houses opening trade relations with the Twilight Court, /if/ the Court in question were willing to do so?"

Shard puts her face briefly behind her hand.

"Well. /I've/ seen plenty of nobles make demands of blood and body for verbal slight," Calarian says, somewhat baffled.

Turo doesn't say anything but the look on his usual stoic and steady face registers as 'this was a waste of time'. Getting up, the Navegant head out. Nothing more to see here.

Turo has left the Thrax Benches.

Adam, A Young Apprentice leaves, following Turo.

"Where's she been??" Nekarris asks, thumbing at Ysbail's departing back over her shoulder. "I mean, I was human for a couple decades, and I saw a LOT of demands for blood over slights. Most of them were over verbal slights."

Khanne has been quiet on the bench, listening to the others voice their concern. She makes a face at times, nodding when she agrees with someone, wrinkling her nose or twisting her lips when she hears something she doesn't like. She chews on her lip a time, then says, "Your Excellency, you have said, quite a few times tonight, that things will be dealt with -if- they happen. I know that most of our history is.... forgotten, but still, we have seen reason to have these worries. Perhaps here and now is not the place to address all concerns with finality, but perhaps... keep in mind that often, results are better when people are proactive instead of reactive...." She nods then, quieting once more.

Aislin mutters something in what appears to be Nox'alfar as Ysbail leaves.

Ian nods to Turo when he leaves, but doesn't choose to follow. He's patient enough to sit it out, or maybe too interested to leave. Either way, he continues to watch without any visible ripple to his calm.

Aislin says in Nox'alfar, "It seems to me it's easier than you'd think to come back, sometimes."

Caelis says, "If we would like to learn more about our allies, where might we do so? Ignorance is doing none of us favors tonight."

"I might point out that the Nox'alfar treated with us in good faith," Calarian lifts his voice to say, "when they didn't have to. They gave us multiple chances to repair the treaty that we ourselves broke. When their last delegation was in Arx, they did not simply use blood magic to murder the person who offered them threat and insult, and when they were denied recompense, they simply left. They conducted the Follies in the Gray Forest while the treaty was broken, but they were called to a halt when negotiations began -- before the treaty was even finalized and signed. By precedent, the Nox'alfar should be far more worried about /our/ behavior than we should be about theirs."

Skye gives a nod of understanding to her cousin as he exits and stays with Lord Ian at the Thrax benches. She continues to make notes in her journal, glancing up once in a while to study those speaking.

Fortunato now levels a furrow-browed glance at Aislin. This sort of thing's the most he's surfaced all assembly.

Nekarrismuses to Caelis, "Oh, man, you guys should establish an embassy, or something." Then she grins, to show she's joking.

Gabriel doesn't seem to notice the Crovane leaving, "Quite a bit of our law is on idiots doing unreasonable things that they need to be hanged for, yes." He then looks towards Orazio, "I imagine the Crown would be willing to allow it, and that would be one of the reasons for allowing the Embassy in Arx. We certainly are not going to violate the treaty again by going to the Night Grove to seek them out." Gabriel looks towards Khanne, "There aren't too many other solutions aside, 'Do not allow the Nox'alfar in the city'. However, and similar that are unacceptable from a perspective of our two core goals. Peace and his majesty's well being. So yes, if we could achieve those two with a safer router, by all means. But that did not look likely, so I would rather have those and then ruthlessly crush any problems that arise when they are all purely hypothetical."

Alis clears her throat. "They were not denied recompense, Prince Calarian. They were denied what -they- felt was proper recompense. And I do not believe rehashing that is going to do any favors today."

Eirene says, "Wait. -Were- human? Humans can be reborn as elves? The fuck?" Said mostly to herself, eyes wide with doubt and curiosity. "And you remember?"

Leona looks at Alis. "As someone present, I will say - they were denied appropriate redress by people who thought a slap on the wrist would be just recompense for a grave insult.

Shard leans over again, looking from Eirene to Nekarris.

"I look forward to the day when a Prince or Princess of the Compact considers the gift of a, what was it, a kitten? To be proper recompense for a threat of murder," Orazio says, quietly. "Sadly, their hosts did not see fit to protect them, nor to advocate on their behalf."

Alis shakes her head. "It was not a slap on the wrist. But we can argue about that all day, and it will not change a thing."

Alis glances at Orazio, eyebrow raised. "That was not what happened, Legate. There were plenty of options offered. There is no need to make it sound worse then it was."

"When dealing in matters of diplomacy with a foreign delegation, it's one and the same," Calarian says simply. "The relevant point is that they didn't run off and try to murder Prince Anze themselves. They simply withdrew. They are not the creatures of utter chaos and disregard for Compact laws and custom in these matters that people seem to fear."

Alis lifts her shoulders. "As I said. I do not believe this is the appropriate time to try re-hashing what happened the last time. It will get us nowhere."

Nekarris singsongs something in Nox'Alfar.

Dafne checked composure + etiquette at difficulty 15, rolling 8 higher.

Aislin checked composure + etiquette at difficulty 15, rolling 19 higher.

Caelis looks to Nekarris and grins. "Or book, autobiography perhaps? It does help the evening pass to have a good read."

Nekarris looks suddenly dreamy. "I could spend the next century writing a biography of Calithex..."

Aislin glances over at Nekarris with a strangely conflicted expression.

Eirene is still fixated on the 'human' thing, looking confused and conflicted on THAT.

"I'm not actually speaking on the subject you don't wish for us to rehash," Calarian tells Alis gently, offering an apologetic smile. "I'm only referring to it in reference to the Nox'alfar's previous behavior while living as guests within the Compact. Which has not, in fact, involved much in the way of murder while they're within the city walls. As frustrating as they may have been otherwise."

Orazio doesn't bother to hide his soft laughter after Nekarris sing-songs that brief call. He shakes his head, and then watches her, his own features going slightly odd and pinched. "At least you are happy now," he says, almost too quiet to carry.

Dafne opens her mouth to say _something_--and then claps it shut again as Nekarris begins to sing. However, mouth firmly closed, the duchess retains her dignity. At the next remark, however, she clasps her hands in sudden glee. "Would you?" she asks Nekarris. "I would _love_ to read that."

Leona nods at Calarian. "It seems mpre fear than proper understanding of how diplomacy and laws work that drive this particular bent." She shrugs, and then looks at Nekarris, her expression smoothing to something neutral. "I would be very interested in reading that as well," she comments quietly. "Particularly the later chapters."

Gabriel holds up a hand, "Biographies of more interesting men than me aside, does anyone else have any questions? I'm not going to debate the past about the first visit and Anze."

Shard sighs and sits back again. She shakes her head, and there's a brief glance ceilingward.

Eirene says, "Didn't the first treaty talk about a supply of weapons? This new one said 'aid'. Do we have a better idea of what that entails?"

"I will not argue that, Prince Calarian." Alis agrees. "Perhas we can speak together on some of what happened the last time they were here. I would like your thoughts on some of what happened." is said simply, as Gabriel calls for more questions.

"No mostly because we can't expect to be buried under a literal sea of alarcite the first time shav pirates glare at us. If it's a threat to all that justifies it." Gabriel reaches for his whiskey flask which seems to magically have drained itself, much to his disappointment, "They aren't a magical land of alaricite dispensers, however much we might wish it was otherwise."

Eirene's eyes roll again but, as before, the Malvici physician shuts her mouth and doesn't ask for more clarification.

Gabriel says, "Yes, yes, we're all very sad, I would have liked alaricite tipped boots to kick asses with, but we make do. Anyone else?"

Nekarris says in Nox'alfar, "Is there something wrong with human eyes? Everyone's eyes are rolling. Is that contagious?"

Calarian discreetly tucks away his alaricite pen in his inside jacket pocket.

Orazio points out, "Last time, the weapons were delivered even when the Nox'Alfar were no longer bound by any treaty to do so, and were used to help force back the invading armies of Brand. I feel certain that while the Twilight Court's aid might be...eccentric, in some ways, if the Compact truly needs it, it will be there."

Gabriel has left the Voices of the Realm.

Dafne checked composure + etiquette at difficulty 15, rolling 2 higher.

Gabriel rises from the table, "Very well. I'll linger for slightly longer in case anyone has any last minute questions, but we can declare the open hours at a close. I realize you all had to deal with me rather than his majesty which is a matter of intense disappointment, and then hear even more disappointing answers, but we seldom get what we want, and unfortunately more often what we deserve."

Aislin says in Nox'alfar, "Unfortunately, yes, it appears to be."

Good Ansel the pocket-sized dog arrives, delivering a message to Gabriel before departing.

Ashe, the studious Stormward paralegal, 2 Kennex corsairs arrive, following Octavia.

Nekarris smiles sweetly at Gabriel. "I'm not disappointed. Not at all." She twirls the parasol resting on her shoulder.

Dafne coughs, and turns faintly pink.

Samantha finds herself absently distracted by Nekarris' parasol. A new fashion trend may be forming!

Gabriel stares in incredulity at the little dog named Good Ansel that delivers a messenger, "That was Duke Arn's? Really?" He shakes his head to banish a disturbed expression and then smiles at Nekarris, "Thank you, Lady Nekarris, it was most appreciated."

Skye gathers her things since the assembly has been concluded. She murmurs a few words to Ian and then exits the Thrax benches, making her way out of the assembly with a thoughtful look on her face.

Skye has left the Thrax Benches.

Eirene's flask is -also- now empty, to her own dismay. She just shrugs at some discussion on their own benches and glances at the parasol, furrowing her brow before just shaking her head. Eyes could not flutter in annoyance more.

Alis doesn't say much, now. But gathers her things, gives a polite nod to those whom she needs to. And then just leaves, with a definitely half scowl on her face.

Alis has left the Voices of the Realm.

Sir Rhys, a Valardin Knight leaves, following Alis.

Shard drums the fingers of both hands along the bench where she's sitting. It's not very loud, but the energy seems to propel her upward after a moment, now that things look to be ending. She stands, and slips quickly out of the commoner seating, making her way down to the floor and presumably, eventually the exit, though her eyes flick this way and that as she goes, taking in others she might pass along the way.

It would seem that Sophie has nothing to ask or add at the moment. Since the open hours have formally come to an end, she rises. Instead of immediately departing, though, she heads towards Khanne and offers a cordial smile.

Shard has left the Commoner Benches.

Nekarris edges back from Eirene and her rolling, fluttering eyes, wary. "Bless you," she says uncertainly, as if Eirene had sneezed.

Ian nods to Skye before she goes, but he doesn't seem like he's interested in moving, yet. His hands still settled on the head of his cane, he regards the proceedings with the same attention, and interest.

Dafne is also fascinated by the parasol. And the rest of Nekarris's clothing. Possibly she's taking notes.

Aislin has left the Grayson Benches.

Orazio takes to his feet, and offers Gabriel a bow. "Thank you, Duke Gabriel, for the generosity and patience of the Crown in this matter. May the gods bless you and King Alaric, and his soon-to-be bride. Although," he coughs, "if I could have a moment at some point to ensure that the Laws of Limerance in that matter are met, before giving the full blessing of the Faith, that would be appreciated."

Baron Archibald Chirpington, a Gyrfalcon arrives, delivering a message to Gabriel before departing.

"I need to find some better libraries." Caelis muses and adjusts the pins in her hair before rising and taking one last look at the elf girl, fascinated before she slips out.

Thena has left the Godsworn Benches.

A huge hideously ugly mastiff, 1 Solace novice guards leave, following Thena.

Caelis has left the Lyceum Benches.

Gabriel bows to Orazio, "Thank you, Father Orazio, for your time and understanding as well, and the gift earlier which was of great aid in my hour of need."

Eirene stands to follow Caelis. "Would help if stupid fucking forces beyond our control didn't keep eating ours," she mutters darkly.

Sophie has left the Valardin Benches.

Nekarris notes, for anyone still lingering, "If you have questions about blood magic and whatever, direct them to Prince Tyrval! He's the second best blood mage, ever!" Evilly, she repeats: "Second best. Forever."

Aislin checked composure at difficulty 20, rolling 5 higher.

Dafne has rolled a critical success!
Dafne checked composure + etiquette at difficulty 15, rolling 30 higher.

Orazio laughs. "It was my pleasure to know that it was appreciated, Duke Gabriel, although my sorrow that it was needed." He nods to Thena as she goes, then turns to Nekarris. "You're not helping," he points out, but mildly. "Is Prince Tyrval staying in the city?"

A messenger arrives, delivering a message to Orazio before departing.

Dafne totally does not react to Nekarris whatsoever. It's impressive. Look at her composure. She's like a tiny gothy statue.

Khanne looks up at Sophie as the woman smiles and approaches. She is stressed, thoroughly, but manages a small smile in return. "Hello, Princess Sophie."

Leona is most definitely not taking note of the parasol, but she does give a small bow to Gabriel. "Thank you for holding this hour," she comments quietly to the Regent. "Would that I had arrived sooner, but I'm certain my soldiers handled themselves appropriately," she says firmly. She offers a smile and nod of greeting to Orazio as well, though in her armor it's still rather stiff. Eirene's departure almost has Leona speaking, but she looks at Nekarris suddenly and queries, "And how would we get in touch with him? I have one or two questions about that myself. One assumes we don't simply send a messenger off into the Grey Forest."

Gabriel looks towards Nekarris, "Lady Nekarris, if you have time, could we speak about the particulars of the Embassy? It might set some of concerns at rest since it obviously was a matter of great consternation to many."

Orazio checked composure at difficulty 10, rolling 5 higher.

Eirene gives Sophie a single wave as she heads out, ignoring whatever else may be said or directed to her. She's cranky and out of liquor.

Ian's gaze shifts over to Nekarris again. The corner of his mouth twitches upward.

Eirene has left the Lyceum Benches.

Carissa, a Malvici bodyguard leaves, following Eirene.

Shard pauses, on her way toward the door, and looks back toward Nekarris. A wrinkle forms between her eyebrows, as does a little bit of a war with her expression, because she seems to be considering something. Debating it might be a better description.

Gabriel smiles at Leona and shakes his head at the Lord Commander, "Think nothing of it, Dame Leona. I appreciate your coming, and it was nothing I couldn't handle in quickening my descent into alcoholism."

"I'm helping /me/," Nekarris counters to Orazio. "I'm not even here as a diplomat! I'm a translator! And yes. He's here." She perks up as Gabriel turns his attention to her, suddenly all smiles. "Of course, Duke Bisland. I'm happy to answer any questions I can." She lifts her brows at Shard, and answers Leona, "Oh, just send him a message! We are staying at the Deepwood estate, so gracious, excellent turndown service."

Aislin engages in what appears to be a silent conversation held entirely through pointed looks (Aislin), innocent looks (Orazio), outright glaring (Aislin again), and deep amusement (Orazio). After a moment, Aislin decides to ignore the Legate -- so mature -- and make her way to the door. She pauses, however, to murmur something to Nekarris.

Aislin says in Nox'alfar, "I'd be interested in reading that book on Calithex, if you ever write it. Though I expect I'd need to wait until my next lifetime."

Nekarris says in Nox'alfar, "Why not just learn a little blood magic and extend this life? I mean, suit yourself, but I know that's what I'm gonna do."

"You're too kind, my lady." Samantha murmurs, trying very hard to keep a straight face.

Now that the meeting is over, the Chief Magistrate makes her way down the aisle, chains of office singing against her coat as she walks. Nekarris gets a look of narrowed eyes, but Octavia doesn't slow down. Approaching Gabriel, she says something low, intended for the Regent's ears only.

Dafne says in Nox'alfar, "Or you can attach yourself to an object. In theory."

Alas, Sophie doesn't catch the departing Eirene's wave, but they surely will be comparing notes in the near future. Instead, she leans in close enough to murmur something to, "Lady Khanne."

"Honoring Mangata in all her glory," Orazio corrects Gabriel, with a sympathetic smile. He turns his attention back to Nekarris. "It is good to see you nonetheless, Lady Nekarris. In the flesh, so to speak." A pause. "I worried."

Shard appears to come to a snap decision. "Are you making it up?" she abruptly asks the elf. "Your age and the bit about being human? I admit it, I can't tell."

"Oh." Nekarris gives those around her a polite 'just a moment' finger, and steps towards Shard. "No, I'm not making it up. It's just kind of complicated. So, I was human, but I was raised to be kind of a..Nox'Alfar observer. Then, when the Compact disturbed the Teind, we agreed to help pay it, right? I offered myself up as a sacrifice for that ritual, and that, combined with all my excellent work...observing..." she emphasizes that word. "I was rewarded by being reincarnated into a Nox'Alfar body that no one wanted at the moment."

Khanne listens to Sophie and gives a small nod before mumuring in return.

"Which I changed, TOTALLY for the better," Nekarris adds, of the body.

Cambria gives a low whistle, presumably of appreciation. Or perhaps surprise that needed some sort of outlet.

Dafne arises herself and makes her way toward the door, pausing with the others by Nekarris. She says, utterly earnestly in a great example of cultural outreach: "You did--I love your hair."

Nekarris clutches her chest, and gives Dafne a touched look. "Thank you. Your accent is totally good, by the way. And I LOVE your choker." She then glides a bit closer to Orazio.

Orazio eyes Nekarris' hair dubiously, but he's a man in sparkly robes, and thus is not allowed to have opinion on anyone else's fashion decisions. He does smile as she glides closer. He shakes his head, and speaks quietly to her.

Shard listens intently. It's not clear at all if she actually understands, but when Nekarris finishes, she /looks/ satisfied. "Thanks," she says, with a single, sharp nod. "Sorry for interrupting." There's a little twitch at one corner of her mouth, just one, slightly upward, though it could hardly be called any particularly expression, certainly not a smile. Then she turns, and without a single glance backward, heads off toward the exit at the same pace as before.

Samantha rises to her feet, heading for Gabriel. "You should come for dinner some night soon." Samantha says gently. "Rymarr would be happy for your company, and the Prince and Lady Nekarris would probably appeciate a more casual setting." She looks around, expression wry. "I daresay you've earned it."

Octavia nods in agreement to whatever the regent says, then takes a step back and looks over at the people departing, just watching them for a moment. She appears to be deep in thought about something or other.

Gabriel smiles warmly at Samantha, "That would be delightful. Thank you, Sam. I'll have to see you soon. But for now..." He gives a bow to all in attendence, "Good night, my lords and ladies, thank you for your time."



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