The Tales of Nemean JeVondair Renodin

[Renodin]

-PHOENIX COURT 3-

Roleplay from Daeron Vurkow



Standing outside of the magnificent temple of The Triumvirate Daeron arrived early to compose himself and get in the right state of mind, as this was his first time in being apart of a meeting such as this and seeing his peers in person. As he was pacing up and down in the courtyard he heard a "hiss" from the nearby shrubbery. Assuming this was a snake he continued his pace but when the snake whispered "Daeron" he knew something was afoot. When he approached the source took on the shape of a hunched and dirty creature, who happened to be The Capitan.
"Sir! What a coincidence to find you here!" His eyes shone with happiness that if physically manifested would bounce off Daeron's sheer wall of confusion, for they had not seen each other since The Capitan was given the order to find Nemean.
"As you would know I have not brought Sir Nemean back yet, got lost as the camp was moving while trying to find Hogni who was doing the same thing you see." Affording himself a small chuckle.
"Anyway I found out he was going to be attending this meeting so I brought this truncheon you see and was hoping to get him into a position where I could deliver him to you, yet he does not seem to have arrived." Poking his head outside of the shrubbery to scan the courtyard for further signs of life. Daeron was could only be dumbstruck that his second, his main representative, was about to bludgeon a prince of the realm so he could send his unconscious body to his brother and possibly their liege in his name. Despite how this reunion was going he managed to keep his composure, for no real damage had actually been done.
"Right... so how did you know this meeting was taking place, only a select few were made aware and you were away."
"Well Sir, you see. I needed to blend in with the common folk if I was going to surprise the prince." Showing off his filth ridden self
"and thus I needed a job and it just so happened they needed a courier to deliver a message to the Duke of Blades and I was not aware of the contents but let me tell you Sir, he was not happy, began ranting about the meeting and throwing all sorts of threats though luckily once I had gotten this location I made a quick exit before he could do anything rash." A pit had formed in Daeron's stomach. Not only had he made a blunder of finding Nemean, now he was going to be associated with the Duke of Blades removal of his title. His representative had delivered the message to remove his title.
"He does not know who you are does he?"
"Course not Sir, but if he found me with you that would be hard to explain I must admit." Daeron took a few steps away from the temple and stared at the surroundings before squatting with his face in his hands screaming.
"ARGHHHHHHH GODS!" After a long silence Daeron turned to The Capitan, who had an awkward smile by this point and spoke in a very calm and mellow voice.
"Go to camp, take a bath and wait until I return. If I do not return, it means Selenia has flayed me alive and my skull belongs to her as a drinking receptacle." Understanding the message he offered a bow to his master before speed walking away, leaving Daeron with the wind and the pigeons.

[Renodin]

-PHOENIX COURT 3-


Roleplay from Andross Blint



Andross thundered into Bescanon at the head of 70 battle ready cavalry. His men had adopted the demeanor of their lord, as had Skia, his fully-grown pet direwolf. They were all furious. None more so than Andross. There was talk that he would be robbed of his ducal seat, of Ayden's ducal seat. He would rather die than let that happen. He was willing to duel any who challenged his right to Krimml, to the death. He had nothing to lose. Either he won and retained his seat or he lost, and he'd spend eternity with Ayden. Plus if he lost, he had no doubt that whomever defeated him would be mercilessly hunted by his father, and that thought gave him some small satisfaction.

He rode up in front of the Temple and dismounted, his boots hitting the stone with a thud. He handed the reins off to Friedrich, his captain, and said "See to the men and camp, then you will attend to me in the Temple."

Friedrich nodded and said "Aye, your grace. Reports suggest the Xerarch isn't here yet." Andross gave a curt nod. "I'll wait." He said. Friedrich and his men rode off to setup camp and prepare for the Court. Andross lingered outside the Temple for a moment and then decided to inspect the inside, it could very well be where he had to fight for his duchy, and it would pay to know the terrain. He thought about seeing Selenia and normally such a prospect would excite him, he loved spending time with her, she was mentor and mother to him, liege and friend. Today, however, there was no room for joy or excitement in his heart, there was room only for rage, and death. Skia padded alongside him as he walked through the temple. The fur on the back of her neck stood straight up, it did that when she was scared and hunting. He knew she could sense his rage, and his willingness to throw himself at death, and that scared her. Man and wolf had formed an inseparable bond over the years and she didn't want to lose a part of herself as much as he didn't want to lose her.

But this wasn't a matter up for debate. His mind was made up and his decision set. He rubbed her head to reassure her and she nuzzled against his leg. It was preemptive, but in a way it was also goodbye.

[Renodin]

-PHOENIX COURT 3-


Roleplay from Ryndhal Nabarl



Ryndhal walks up to the doors of the magnificent temple of the Triumvirate, remembering fondly the time and investment he had put into having it created.

It felt good to be back.

Some of the minor priests of the temple were surprised to see the High Priest, and rushed to see to his needs.

“Prepare the Hall of Elysia for a great meeting, ensure there is ample food and mead available to all. I am uncertain as to the exact nature of the court we shall host here, but Elysia would seem to be the choice of god to watch over it, with truth and honesty as her leading values”

The priests nodded, and spoke with various servants of the temple to ensure everything was in place for what was to come.

[Renodin]

-PHOENIX COURT 3-


Roleplay from Kanchelsis Abjur


All this recent talk of home hit close to the young knight Kanchelsis. He didn't really have one, being born from a pairing of an Elf and a Tilogian. The son of both a mistrusted race and a breed of evil madmen, he couldn't really blame those who wouldn't accept him. He had been surprised when he had received the invitation to the "Phoenix Court" from his liege, the legendary Selenia JeVondair, the so-called "Phoenix Queen", especially after not answering her offer of adoption. If he could have been honest with himself, he would have known that had been because he didn't believe himself worthy of the honor. When he looked at his reflection, he didn't see the son of the heroic Xerarch who fought and died for what he believed in, nor the noble merchant Elf who gave up everything to be with his father and to raise him. He saw a deceitful coward, one who was willing to live in the shadows until his mothers death drove him to seek out his father.
The young knight straightened his shoulder length red hair to hide the points of his ears, and checked the short straight sword with it's Damascus blade on his belt. It had been a gift from his father to his mother when he had been Shadow Tyrant of the artist convocation known as the "Assassins" in the Colonies. it was a fine blade for a woman more interested in the business of the merchantry rather than the soldiery, but the young knight had discovered it rather limiting from his recent days in the field. Still, it was what he had available, and the jeweled hilt and patterned blade in its sheath designed more to show off the weapon than protect it from the elements would fit in nicely among the great and the good that would no doubt be at this gathering. He glanced at his reflection in the shield hanging from the wall of the room, and the handsome face that looked back would have doubtlessly been familiar to those who had known Aramon Abjur, if they could imagine it marred with the same tattoos and scars he had borne. He shifted the coat of scales on his broad shoulders, he was no where as massive as his father once was, but he was far from a small man, and the near spitting image of his father (not that Kanchelsis could have known, he had never met him while he was alive, and was in the field fighting when his father was buried). Deciding that he was as prepared as he could hope to be, he took the shield from the wall and slung it over his back, the spear with the crossbar bearing the banner of his father's  heraldry with it's unusual party per pall division of the field from the corner of the room, and walked through the inn and out he door, setting his course for the temple of The Triumvirate in the distance.

[Renodin]

-PHOENIX COURT 3-


Right - these are some to watch people. These are the RP's written that illustrate the entire Phoenix Court. JeVondair is the main driver.


Roleplay from Selenia JeVondair


THE PHOENIX COURT: Part I - The Gathering Storm

June, 1019

The warm winds of high summer swept over the province of Bescannon. Here on the Eastern Continent, that meant storms. It had never been a particularly warm place, this land of rising suns and dynasties. It was not so very long ago now that the great cities of its southernmost regions were locked behind an impenetrable expanse of ice and winter. It was the melting of that ice, that thawing of winter, that had heralded her coming. With the warmth of wind and current, Selenia had sailed from the western Ivory Empire she'd built at the head of half a dozen coteries of her bannermen who together joined with many others: migrants and thrill seekers, fortune hunters, refugees from fabled sunken Atamara, and still more storied noble houses. Selenia, though, had come in hopes of finding a peaceful life and family with which to retire while other, more active members of the JeVondair family made their mark.

To this day, the boldest of her confidants still laughed at that last twist of Fate. Today, though, it reminded Selenia just how far she and her people had been made to come, and just how many homes that they’d built and lost and rebuilt. One might even say the fate of the Xavax was caught in Time. Catching a reflection of herself, that particular thought caused her to grimace

Selenia was somewhere in her 30’s, or so an uninformed onlooker might have guessed. However, astride her roan warhorse in the midst of three dozen of her Fearless, there was no mistaking her for who and what she was. She was of tallish height for a woman, though her head might come up to an average man’s nose. Of her flesh, only her head was visible. Blonde hair rippled in tight warbraids against her skalp in intricate patterns that kept stray strands before falling in a restrained mane to her shoulders and whipped about by increasing gusts of wind. Ageless-blue eyes framed by even features and a pert nose that, upon close inspection, would show that it had been very well set. And on more than one occasion.  Measured lips set in a thin line and the flush of summer colored her cheeks. A sharp appraiser would note the silvered Sirionite armor beneath crimson cloak she and her men favored, though theirs were trimmed in black while hers was gold, the color of royalty. About her shoulders was a mantle of lionhide and fur. The top half of the great beast’s tanned skull, complete with glass eyes, glared over her right shoulder, its fangs pinning her scarlet cloak in place as a clasp would. At once a symbol of the great House she now ruled, a reminder to her Xavax tribesmen, and a threat to her most hated enemies. Other than these, she wore no symbol of rank or office, and even these, in her opinion, were overkill.

Today, however, the image was necessary. Especially in this place. The latest addition to the realm of Greater Epponlyn, Bescannon was once a province of war machinery and tall towers. Many would admire the wheat fields matched only by the brilliance of shining blue waterways that ran with brilliantly colored fish. With a population greater even than Krimmel. The region had apparently once boasted vast arrays of buildings full of windows where there was a rattling and a trembling all day long, and where the piston of the steam-engines worked monotonously up and down, which was a controlled tempest  in a state of constant order building siege engines, or so local guides had once informed her. Selenia had no idea what that meant, but the locals seemed insufferably proud of themselves. Though, credit where due, they had other reason to be. Bescannon was one of, if not the most, heavily defended regions of its like in all the world. Alone, the militia here stands vigilant and ready to combat armies of the vast size and aggression as even the Perleone ‘Empire’ might raise. Though much of ‘the original’ industry was nowhere in evidence, more traditional signs of civilization greeted passerby at every corner. Selenia thought it was certainly much nicer to come as a defender, rather than as a conqueror.

Word of her arrival, and destination, had apparently strayed ahead of her as she arrived at the grand Temple of the Triumvirate. A crowd of onlookers had already gathered to watch the many important high nobles make their way within while their men found somewhere to stand guard. Selenia nodded in approval at the discipline on display. Her people’s soldiers stood vigilant, wary, and as ever-ready for battle as their aristocratic patrons were. Her expression warmed by degrees when one figure, a squire in the gilded lion livery of her house, made his way through the Fearless’ ranks to take hold of her roan’s reigns while she dismounted.

Högni Peredhel JeVondair was already a good deal taller than his mother. By most standards, he was a man grown, but he still bowed his head affably so she could reach up and run a hand through his hair. She had not seen her son since sending him to look after his younger brother on his first campaign. As was her way, she eschewed words in favor of action, drawing him into a tight hug and bending him so far forwards that he very nearly lost balance. He recovered with grace however, as he returned his mother’s embrace before breaking away and holding her a arms length, smiling. Not for the first time, she marveled at him. He looked so much like her, she thought, but the influence of his father was definitely apparent, far more strongly in some ways than others. Delicate, like her own, for which he surely would have been teased were it not for all the muscle and skill being raised by her had bequeathed him.

Högni was well on his way to becoming a good man, while she looked forward to his knighting one day, she was grateful for his value in being able to move about without all the ceremony, and more importantly without the notice, that her movements incurred. In hushed tones, he told her of the nobles that had arrived and those that had yet to. Out of habit so ingrained she did not even notice, her fingers flitted to the twin kukris she’d carried as an adventurer herself a lifetime ago, loosening them in their scabbards as her Fearless dismounted in a cordon of muscle and steel about the pair before they began their ascent. Högni He guided her up the steps to the Temple and towards the Hall of Elysian just as the first fat drops of rain began to fall.

[Renodin]

-PHOENIX COURT 3-

Roleplay from Andross Blint


Andross waited for Selenia and the others to arrive. Her retinue was hard to miss. He couldn't help but marvel at Selenia, she exuded power, authority, dignity, and nobility. His icy pale blue eyes flickered over her person, noticing her Sirionite armor trimmed in gold, her cloak with the lions head on her shoulders, her eyes, her face. He watched her interact with Hogni, a small flicker of joy sparked in his heart, he loved that boy like his own son. That flicker of joy was quickly and readily extinguished. He stood to the side of the entryway to the Temple.

Andross was above average height, but not tall, he had the sandy blonde hair of his father's youth and beard to match. This sides of his head were shaved, and the hair on the top of his head was trimmed very short. He'd let his beard grow out a bit more in the past year or so. Today he wore the armor he wore when he personally escorted Selenia from the gates of Xavax city. Obsidian black armor with a wolf head emblazoned on the chest piece. The eyes of the wolf were small ruby's that, when they caught light from the sun, or flame, appeared to be alive and awake. His cloak crimson red, similar to the color of the Xerarch's, but his wasn't nearly as fine nor adorned as hers.

He wore his traditional sword on his hip, the pommel held a wolf's head and he had at least four other daggers and blades strewn about his body. Selenia caught sight of him immediately, Hogni walked with her as she ascended the steps of the Temple and her glance at Andross told him everything he needed to know. Andross bowed low to her and he said "Your Grace." She couldn't miss the absence of a jovial tone or any lightheartedness in his voice. He waited for her to pass into the inner Temple before following her and her guards.

[Renodin]

This one is supposed to be in there somehwere. Lemme check.. right before the RP JeVondair wrote. I kinda messed up but I'm sure you can work around it. Capable as you are. Yes, I wrote this one.



-PHOENIX COURT 3-


Sometimes, life just passes you by, fast

In the eternal rhythm the sun always gives way to both darkness and to rain. It seemed today was no different in that the rustling of the leafs became more pronounced at first and slowly grew into a clattering chorus. Nemean's attention was first drawn to the arrival of the Duke of Blades. His banner unmistakable. The black background bearing a red Cross upon which a white canine lay.

Turning around to face the oncoming horde of horsemen the boy-man had little time to make his presence known as the Duke was clearly upset and he paid little heed to anything but the temple itself in which he promptly vanished. Deciding to follow him Nemean halted after only a handful of steps. ''What is that?'' He squinted his eyes as he couldn't believe his eyes. A walking raisin of a man in a magnificent cloak gingerly walked up the blessedly few steps into the temple proper. Was that the insignia of House Nabarl he spotted? The White and Blue with a Black chicken foot atop of it.

Rubbing his face in disbelieve Nemean resumed his way. As he was about to cross the cobbled road another contingent of heavily armed horsemen rode past. His eyes instantly informed him that this was the Fearless. Selenia's personal guard. He called out but the hooves droned out his voice. As nature would prove once again, horses were that much faster than men. No matter how determined. Nemean tried to catch up but it was in vain.

All he could do was look on as Hogni, his brother, embraced Selenia and how they made their way inside as well. ''Why does everyone have to arrive at once!'' He huffed under his breath. Finally reaching the temple entrance himself he was red in the face from exertion. That of course wouldn't do and some of the Fearless grinned at him. ''How's life as a Knight young master?'' One asked in friendly jest. Catching his breath Nemean grinned back. ''You still have to do the running yourself! Bet I can still outrun you as well Kefren.'' Calling the warrior by his first name. Growing up among these men had created an easy relation. One Nemean was grateful for as he felt comfortable enough to check his attire. A sturdy leather armor under which he wore quality linnen. The cuirass of which was embossed with the rampant lion of his House. Over his right shoulder he wore a fighting, half-cloak made of fine fur the color of dark chestnut. Some of his dark-blond hair spilled over it now after his short run but he bound it back in the ponytail in which it had originally been.

High hunting boots had prevented mud or dirt from staining his leather trousers and circling his waist there sat snugly a belt made of bovine leather. Rather wide and carefully tooled as to allow the attachment of small plates of armor. A thing that was currently lacking. The only things attached to the belt at this time were two pouches a dagger and a sword.

Kefren stepped out towards the young man and helped him straighten out his clothes and ruffled his hair to tease. A thing which inflamed Nemean but for as long as it took for the men around to start laughing and he joined in as he realized what had happened. His confidence boosted and having recovered from his little run, Nemean too entered the Temple. Keenly keeping a lookout for anyone of note.

[Renodin]

-PHOENIX COURT 3-


Roleplay from Godric Tórrarin ka Habb


The rains has begun to fall heavily as the temple of the Triumvirate comes into view. Section commanders of the Mounted Toren accept orders to break off leaving Godric, his Captain Honana, and a careful selection to accompany him. Their horses are muscular and powerful, not necessarily swift, but they move like a landslide. Godric's gaze surveils the surroundings with exacting accuracy as the rest of the troops ensure they are moving towards their destination. Breaking forward, Godric halts them and dismounts a short walk from the temple steps. Wordlessly they provide him with his weapons while taking away the heavier pieces of his armour. He remains in gambeson and greaves, a 6 foot spear taller than he and a large round shield of steel on oak.

Godric's most discerning feature is a sharp nose followed closely by his intense gaze. Were his eyes not attached to such a fierce countenance they would be bright and cheerful. Instead they shine wickedly at those who have drawn his attention. He is aged now, hair receding and grey, but his forearms remain approximately the size of oaks. He walks not with a confidence but with a detachment, unperturbed by anything around him. He looks around wisely, as if nothing ever surprises him. Before stepping on the temple grounds he produces a pendant of Tor, murmurs a prayer to it, and replaces it inside his gambeson. He climbs the steps and proceeds to the Hall of Elysia.

[Renodin]

-PHOENIX COURT 3-


Roleplay from Selenia JeVondair



THE PHOENIX COURT: Part II â€" Gods and Men

June 1019

The Hall of Elysia was the primary feature about which the entire temple edifice had been planned and built. After ascending the stairs and passing through the great oak doors, she expected to find a foyer or a series of rooms and passageways. Instead, she found herself in an immense cathedral. The Hall was more akin to an amphitheater shaped like an X with its points aligned in the cardinal directions. From where she stood in the entrance, stairs lead down to a central pulpit with a raised dais for speakers to walk and preach and be both seen and heard no matter where one stood. From this central point, seating radiated in concentric circles stepping all the way up to where she now stood. At the top of these circles and even to her current level were four great statues, all with female traits and each set into their own alcoves, with altars at their feet. Selenia thought it strange number for a faith called the Triumverate, and wondered which of these gods had either died or been cast down. The interest was fleeting, however, as the business of the realm weighed heavily on her mind. To her right and left were the northern and eastern alcoves, respectively. The northern alcove featured a statue of a goddess bent with age, while the eastern on seemed the opposite. Across the Hall were the southern and western Alcoves, the former carrying a spear and shield, the latter carrying a sickle. Upon the altars of each goddess, rather than offerings, a feast had been laid out for the guests of the temple. To Selenia’s eye, all seemed equal, and she was about to select where she was going to sit when laughter from behind where she’d left her riders caused her to turn.

Nemean JeVondair Renodin was bounding up the steps after her. Followed by waves and hoot or two from her Fearless. Her features softened into a smile as he drew close. Rather than wait for him to bow or kneel, she went to him and embraced him just as tightly as she had Hogni. “My son” she said after breaking the embrace, “I have missed you lad.” She looked him up and down with a note of appraisal. It had not been so very long ago that she had knighted him, but already he seemed so different! He was growing up before her very eyes. Darkly, she mentally cursed the circumstances that caused it. Hogni placed a firm hand on her shoulder, pushing her a bit, a reminder that he hadn’t seen his brother in nearly as long. Selenia stepped back, and Hogni almost lifted Nemean off his feat, armor and all, in a great bear hug. “Come” she said aloud simply, and turned to enter deeper into the hall with her sons to either shoulder.

It was no surprise to find that Andross Blint had already arrived. He’d watched her as she entered. He looked as if he had been pacing. His face was that dangerous calm death mask that she’d seen on his father’s face on more than one occasion.

“Low, Duke of Blades,” she called in greeting as she extended her arm and crooked a gauntleted finger at him in a “come-hither” gesture. Selenia had chosen to sit with her back to the southern alcove so she could see all who entered. She turned left, passing the eastern goddess on her way. She noted the runes that named this statue as Elysia before moving on to her destination, where she promptly poured herself a flagon of something the local priests had provided. It was a sort of beer, dark amber in color. Then she tore off a baby-wyvern drumstick and sat down to face the pulpit and the entrance. No sooner had she done so did Arbiter Godric arrive. The massive, hawk-nosed old Toren appeared just as fearsome as ever with his huge spear and grave demeanor. She waved him over, hooking a thumb over her shoulder to indicate the food. Selenia had long held that nothing of import should be started on an empty stomach. She contemplated the duke and the judge as they approached. Both men were tied to her family by love and tragedy, for both had loved the same woman, albeit in very different ways, and Selenia felt a deep kinship with them both. Since they were among the first to arrive, they would sit with her.

Selenia rested her elbows on her knees as she alternately at off the dripping drumbstick and drank appreciably from the flagon as she waited.

[Renodin]

-PHOENIX COURT 3-


Roleplay from Godric Tórrarin ka Habb


Godric enters swiftly, eyes narrow.

"A rat."

His continues at speed until he stops just within the doorway.

"There is a rat, my queen. I must kill it." His voice is steady and sure. A retainer rushes forward to present two letters to Lady Selenia before rushing to the side of the room. Godric points his spear at Duke Andross, advancing slowly. "This man is a traitor to the Xavax. He insults me and all of us by trying to destroy all we have worked for. He is a rat. Die."

Godric lifts his shield, ready to attack.

[Renodin]

-PHOENIX COURT 3-


Roleplay from Andross Blint


Andross drew his blade and readied himself. He suddenly looked at peace. He looked from Selenia to Nemean to Hogni, and said "You know me, my queen. Everything I've ever done as been for you, your family, and this realm. I will fight this man now, the best of us, because honor dictates I do so. If I die, you know my wishes."

He looked at Nemean and said "You look so much like your mother." A sad smile on his face. "I loved her, from the moment I met her, I loved her and I've never stopped. I never will." He turned to Hogni and said "You are of the Redwing, stand strong and do not look away. Oh and take care of her." He said as he nodded to Skia who was sitting next to Hogni.

Andross turned to Godric and raised his weapon. "Let us finish this, Lord Arbiter."

[Renodin]

Duel

Andross Blint, Duke of Blades, Baron of Tabost meets his challenger Godric Tórrarin ka Habb, Chief of Justice of Eponllyn, Knight of Oligarch for the agreed duel till death.

Godric Tórrarin has decided to use the 'overrun' strategy while Andross has chosen the 'defensive' strategy, giving Andross the advantage.

The duel runs its course, until Andross delivers a fatal blow. The healers carry Godric Tórrarin away, seriously wounded but still breathing.Since there was a bounty out on him, Andross gladly collects.

[Renodin]

-PHOENIX COURT 3-


Roleplay from Kanchelsis Abjur


"Perhaps it is good that my father is dead. To imagine we would see a day when two of the greatest of Xavax would turn their blades on one another for the "honor" of a foreign Queen!" Kanchelsis had left the blood stained banner standing outside the temple and had made his way, mostly unnoticed, through the crowd of retainers in time to witness the confrontation, his left hand on the hilt of the short sword on his belt. "What, do we not have enough enemies to kill that we have to start killing one another?" As the spear fell from Godric's nerveless fingers, the young knight shot out of the crowd, blade drawn, and stepped over the Arbiter's prone form. Once he was sure the Duke of Blades was not going to strike, he knelt, checking the old warriors wounds and, finding a pulse, pulled some gauze from a pouch and saw to the wounds as best he could before motioning for some of the Fearless to take the stricken man to the Priest's quarters.

[Renodin]

-PHOENIX COURT 3-


Roleplay from Aggammenonn Atredies


While I congratulate the Duke on his victory, I wonder what the point of all this martial might is. This duel solved nothing either way, and the important issues remain unresolved.
So Lady Selenia, where do we go from here?

[Renodin]

-PHOENIX COURT 3-


Roleplay from Ryndhal Nabarl


Ryndhal watched as the nobility arrived at the magnificent temple of the Triumvirate. It pleased him, as he hoped it pleased the Goddesses, that such a wealth of important people were to hold discussions of significant matters within these blessed stones.

He stood in the entranceway, greeting all as they arrived. He was short, stocky, scarred of face and in deep flowing robes. Most who looked at him would just see an ancient priest, and perhaps think of him as wise due to his age and status. He doubted there were any alive who knew how his life had started out and most of his years had been lived. He smiled and lost himself briefly in reminiscence. Those young nobles would probably struggle to believe he had lead 1000 cavalry alone and marched from Itorunt to Sirion to battle the ruler there... It seems like lifetimes ago...

His mind back to the present, he acknowledged the serving persons that had readied the feasting was requested and gave thanks to the goddesses for their work. Once more he returned to welcoming all who came, watching them all, noting who came, who didn’t, how people interacted.

There was excitement and hostility in the air, the latter of which was not so pleasing to have in the temple and he gave a glance at the Crone.

“Welcome one, welcome all. You may sit where you wish, you can be shown around the temple whilst you wait if desired, though I expect we shan’t wait long before we are underway properly”