Bianca stepped into the shelter, giving a brief glance about as she made her way further into the converted warehouse. Of course, she probably looked a bit out of place... but she was here out of support!

Silas is present with his house servants, handing out bundles of dried foods and clothing for those in need of them. The guest basket is set near the entrance of the shelter, filled to the brim with festive orange roses. There wasn't an enormous crowd - the ones who came were either the truly needy or those who wished to donate their own belongings and honor Gild - but the mood was a delightful one. The Grayson knight turns towards the entrance to spot Biance and smiles faintly. "Welcome, m'lady." He can tell she wasn't lowborn. "If you'd like, you can help yourself to a bouquet."

Bianca stepped forward as she was addressed directly, a small smile having grown on her lips (though never quite reaching her eyes) as she absorbed the atmosphere. A few more paces through the crowd and she was near enough to Silas to be heard over the passive din of the event at her natural mildly softer volume. "I was actually wondering if there was any way I could help? With passing out items or if there is something specifically lacking via the donations...?"

Fidelia Fidante, A Lady-in-Waiting, 3 Fidante House Guards, Ford arrive, following Juliet.

Juliet arrives, talking idly with Ford, followed by Fidelia and an entourage of guards, wearing blush pinks and moving along, quietly, offering a bright smile here and there as she goes. looking for the host of the event. Idly carried in one hand is her sheathed rapier, though she hardly looks dressed for combat.

Silas turns his full attention to the Wyrmguard lady, momentarily leaving his duties as a server. A long moment transpires as he considers her offer. "There are plenty of ways you can help. I think we have the passing out covered but..." He inclines his head thoughtfully. "We could always use more food - specifically dried goods we can keep stored for long periods of time - and perhaps medicinal supplies when if we're not what you'd call healers. If Arx comes under seige, this shelter may be overrun." Things had gotten grimmer now that the Brings of Silence were metaphorically at their door. Juliet wouldn't have much trouble finding him when she arrives; he is the only one completely clothed in armor! He seems to notice her approach, too. "Ah, Lady Fidante, a pleasure to see you again as always." His blue eyes drift to her companion, Ford. "And greetings to you, too, m'lord. I'm Sir Silas Mercier." It seems like a good time to formally introduce himself!

Walking along side Juliet, Ford keeps his hands behind his back. Even in summer, without a long jacket he feels a bit naked. So his white shirt sleeves are rolled up to the elbow. Once inside, however, he slows and drops away from Juliet to regard the large Gild statue with some earnest, but when Silas calls out to him, he turns immediately, extending his hand, "Marquis Ford Kennex. A pleasure to meet you sir Knight."

"I can see to it a few crates of Blancbier Healing Salve are delivered before the end of the week." The scholar-knight confirmed with a bit of earnest, turning as Juliet was addressed and offering a small, but polite smile to bother her and her company as her hands came to fold behind her.

"Always a pleasure, Lady Bianca, Sir Silas. Have you met the Marquis Ford Kennex?" Juliet inquires politely as she steps up to the pair, gesturing to Ford. Overhearing Bianca, she gives a nod and a smile. "I will talk to Lady Calista about perhpas reaching out to her friends at the Apotechary College's representatives here, so you may enjoy some of the alchemical treatments they offer for various ailments," She suggests. "For now, I came to offer a small personal donation, to help ensure that there's enough money to pay the people volunteering to do good work for those in need." And as she says so, the Lady Fidelia steps forward, offering a small leather pouch to Silas.

His smile seems to broaden and grow warmer at was Bianca says. "Thank you, m'lady. I will inform the workers so they may expect it. Should you need anything from the Mercier family you need only ask; you have our gratitude." Juliet's offer surprises him, but he extends his hand to accept the pouch of silver. "I extend the same to you, Lady Juliet. We are fortunate to have you as a family friend." He turns to give the pouch to a waifish middle-aged woman who appears to be the main operator of the shelter. She blinks owlishly but nods.

    Silas then turns back to the three of them. Now the smile turns into a grin. "Actually, there's another task the three of you could help me with..."

Icy blue eyes linger on Bianca for a time that Ford himself isn't exactly aware of. He slowly extends his hand, "Lady Bianca." He starts then cants his head slightly, "Wyrmguard was it? A wonderful name." Then he smiles warmly, "And a wonderful beauty to go along with it." Ford sounds almost whistful. Dat Ethreal beauty tho.

"I have not." She extended her hand to the unknown face. "Lady Bianca Wyrmguard, yes. A pleasure, my lord." Her tone was polite, but a little dull as was the smile. Her gaze soon after followed to Silas a little more attentively at his announcement.

Fidelia steps back, and Juliet beams bright at Silas. "Any time, Sir Silas." Listening attentively, and stepping a bit closer to the Lady Wyrmguard.

Silas moves towards the pantry, gesturing over a few servants to help him, and begins to unload several wooden chests from the closet. They're placed on a nearby rickety table - and by the looks of it, they're well-crafted and heavy. Perhaps there are goodies inside already. "Princess Dawn gave me a large sum of silver to spend on this charity drive and I invested heavily in the crafters of the city, but I have some leftovers." He peers at the three nobles. "I want you three to help me distribute them, by delivering one to a commoner you know who may need it. Or simply enjoy it."

Silas gets an arch-topped cedar chest with steel hardware from a rustic wooden pantry.

Bianca's expression was one of mild surprise, but she nodded smally and her smile ticked just a bit broader. "Of course, Sir Mercier. That should be an easy task to see out."

Silas picks up Guest Hospitiality Basket Honoring Gild.

Silas puts Guest Hospitiality Basket Honoring Gild in a rustic wooden pantry.

Silas puts a sleek carmine leather sword belt with attached wooden scabbard in a rustic wooden pantry.

Silas gets a sleek carmine leather sword belt with attached wooden scabbard from a rustic wooden pantry.

Silas puts a sleek carmine leather sword belt with attached wooden scabbard in a rustic wooden pantry.

Silas gets an arch-topped cedar chest with steel hardware from a rustic wooden pantry.

Silas puts up the nearest chest and carefully hands it to Bianca. "You're first, Lady Wyrmguard, as you were the first one here. May your friend appreciate your kindness." He then offers her a piece of parchment to write a message. "Let them know it's from you, of course." He peers up again, at Juliet. "Do you wish to help, Lady Juliet? Have someone in mind?"

"That is a wonderful idea," Juliet agrees. Considering, thoughtfully. "I admit, the first to come to mind is Messere Leola Allenatore. She may not have -need- for it personally, but as a Disciple of Petrichor, she is constantly seeing to the common people, and sure to be able to find those who are in need. And besides, I know she's been looking to have a Lodge built in honour of Petrichor... So if you find her acceptable, Sir Silas, I would like to nominate her as a recipient."

Silas gets an arch-topped cedar chest with steel hardware from a rustic wooden pantry.

The slender sylph of a woman shifted somewhat beneath the weight of the chest offered, soon readjusting it to let it rest under the crook of her arm on the support of her hip. "Thank you, Sir Mercier." Just a touch of Bianca's uncommonly absent warmth returned to her gaze as she accepted the parchment soon after, continuing her balancing act as she scribbled a brief note with sheathed led from a pouch on her belt.

Juliet, likewise, accepts the chest - thought thankfully, she has soldiers to help her hold it, and one of them even offers to come help Bianca with hers, as she and Lady Juliet both settle to write their letters.

The same is done for Juliet, though it is a slightly lovestruck male servant who shuffles forward to hand her the parchment after Silas delivers the heavy chest to the Fidante lady. "Aye, an adventurer always needs more space to put their trinkets in, in my experience. Good choice, m'lady." A few more servants step forward to volunteer as delivery boys while Silas turns his attention to Ford. "And you, Marquis? You seem to be a new face, but I'd like to help one of your friends, too."

Ford lifts his brow with a bit of a breath, "I admit, the only commoners I've met so far are you, your sister, the flustered smith Hana, and the madman who tried to drug me last night, so I fear I'm at a bit of a loss, Sir Knight."

Bianca soon after handed off the chest and note to one of the volunteers, baying them a gracious bow of her head and quiet, "Thank you."

Silas squints back at Ford. "Madman? Is that someone I know? I've run into a few." He wasn't even exaggerating, these days. "Mistress Hana may be a good choice for your gift, then. My sister already has plenty of belongings." There were a total of three chests still left on the table, meaning there would be two leftover after they were done. "Would that be suitable for you?"

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

"I believe he said his name was Ira." Ford says, looking to the chest, "He thought himself pretty clever trying to give me a bit of Rat Fern and simply HOPING I didn't know what it was." He laughs to himself and then nods, "Yes, Mistress Hana will do just fine."

Bianca turned to receive a note passed by a messenger, glancing down to it as she briefly read over its script. The scholar-knight gestured for the messenger's pad of parchment soon after to scribble a note and send him on his way with an additional few coins.

Silas carries another chest over to Ford and hands it over. "She's a skilled weaponsmith - I'm sure she has plenty of use for chests." He wrinkles his nose about Ira. "Haven't met him yet - thank you for warning me, in a strange way." He turns back to the ladies and bows. "I am grateful for your donations, help, and future contributions." He glances back to the remaining chests. "I will see these ones off to people who may have just arrived in the city, I think." He lets his hand glide over the top of the nearest chest admiringly. "Perhaps a prayer, before you go?"

With the chest sent along with the letter, Juliet idly stretches, considering the chests left. "They are very pretty."

Ford tucks the chest up under his right arm so he can use his left to write out a proper note out for it. "A prayer seems apt, yes."

Silas seems to take Ford's words as consent to start praying. He bows his head and closes his eyes, the prayer directed at the nobles in front of him just as much as the commoners milling about around them.

        "May it be your will, O Gild, that the path be
        clear, the road be safe, the journey be fruitful.
        May we find shelter under your hand come the night and see your charity in the rising of the sun.
        May our travel lead us where we need to be, and
        may those we meet help us on our way.
        May it be your will, O Gild, that I see my home
        again...

        Gild guard our paths."

    The prayer concluded, he opens his eyes and gazes warmly back at them. "Your friends are fortunate to have you. Be well, and we will undoubtedly meet again."

Ford dips his head at the end of the prayer, "Gild guard our paths." He repeats, before handing off his chest to one of the delivery kids.

"Gild guard our paths," Juliet echoes, as the prayer concludes. Looking around, at the spectacle and the gifts being handed out. "Well done, Sir Silas. Truly. You and your family continue to be an inspiration."

Bianca's hands clasped and her head bowed throughout the duration of Silas' prayer. She was a woman of the Faith herself, so in a way this interlude made her feel all the more comfortable. "In the Light of the Thirteen." She echoed rather than a more direct acknowledgment to Gild alone. Again her gaze lifted, figure turning slightly to observe the goings on of the event, neck craning slightly to nod in agreement with Juliet's words.

"It's good to know that those among us less fortunate to have lovely titles are well looked after." Ford clasps his hands behind his back, "You do your title a great honor, Sir Silas."

His smile turns sheepish at Juliet's compliment. "We are quite little without the generosity of others, and we remember this. We do our best to see the city prosper, because when the city prospers we all do." The servants around him seem to be cleaning up in anticipation of the nightfall. Silas rests one hand on his hip. "Additionally, remember the Iron Guard is here to help too, if you need it. I'm praying that things won't be as ominous as they look to be." He flickers his eyes to Ford. "And perhaps I should speak to that madman who tried to drug you earlier..."

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

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

Ford was just about to respond to Silas when a messenger arrived for...him? He did a double take at the messenger boy looking so expectantly at him before he realized it was HIM he was waiting on. "That won't be necessary, Sir Silas." He folds the note up with a smile and tucks it away, "I assured him that if I found out he was trying to give anyone..especially the lovely ladies of this city that particular drug, and I found out. I'd personally break all of his fingers. He seemed to get the message."

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

"I'm pleased to see a woman of the Oathlands give due to the Thirteenth as well as the twelve," Juliet offers quietly to Bianca, with a bright smile. Giving another nod in agreement with her words to Silas. "Ambient light sharing radiance, ensuring that everyone has warmth," She concludes with Silas. Pausing. Looking to Ford. "Wait... Ira, you said? Ira Dedalin? Or some other Ira." Mayhap it is the mention of Rat Fern that made her make the connection.

"The same." Ford confirms.

Bianca began to subtly retreat, only to be interrupted by yet another messenger of her own. As she briskly read over its comments, any of the creeping warmth and positive mood that had begun to rise in her was immediately washed away. Once again, the dull listlessness of duty in a time of mourning overwhelmed the scholar. Her gaze first lifted to Juliet, nod granted in regards to the woman's words though shortly thereafter an apologetic murmur was turned to the small grouping as a whole. "If you all will excuse me. There are some matters that have arisen that I must attend to."

"I hope you have a good day, Lady Bianca. And I once more look forward to conversing more with you and getting to know you." Juliet offers, sketching a curtsey to the leaving Wyrmguard. Furrowing her brow. "Well. I'll have to ask him what -that's- all about, then."

"Good man," Silas murmurs, seeming to approve of Ford's threat. "And an ample comparison. In a way, your philosophy is similar, if I recall correctly," he then answers Juliet with a signature wry grin. The arrival and departure of messengers do not go unnoticed and Silas bows to Bianca once more when she announces her intention to depart. "I understand completely. Thank you again, Lady Bianca."

Ford nods to Bianca, "Be well, Lady Wyrmguard. It was nice to meet you."

"That is the basis of my philosophy, yes." Juliet offers with a small smile to Silas. Drawing a breath. "Rat fern..." She mutters, with a shake of her head.

Silas hrms. "I don't even know what that is but I suspect it is aptly named."

"If you'll both excuse me. I need to see about finding somewhere else to sleep tonight. Thank you for the service, Sir Knight it was a pleasure to meet you." Then Ford looks to Juliet, "Lady Juliet, I hope I get to see you again soon."

Silas nods to Ford. "Be well, Marquis. Sorry to hear about your troubles at home." He raises his brows. "Though these cots really aren't fit for a man of your station, so..." It was an attempt at a jest. "Farewell."

"It was a pleasure to meet you, Marquis Kennex. Welcome to Arx - may your stay be a prosperous and happy one." Juliet offers to Ford, then looks to Silas. "Ah. It's also known better as banana leaf. It has a potent hallucinatory effect if treated properly and then chewed." She wrinkles her nose. "Less so in its raw form."

Silas scratches his cheek. "Banana leaf sounds decidedly more appetizing. I think I've heard of it, but I haven't tried it." He pauses. "Not sure if I want to change that..."

Bethany races into the Shelter - looking incredibly sheepish, a little ruffled - but only just. She instantly composes herself, brushing down the edge of her skirt with a prim expression, "Pardon me tardiness, Silas. I was speaking with an alchemist - about - ah, alchemy."

"I'm sure there are excitements in your life that I'll never want to have, and that I'll nevery get a chance to try," Juliet offers idly. Stood next to Silas in her blushed silks, sheathed rapier in hand because apparently swords are fashion accessories now. "I enjoyed it when I tried it, but I don't make a habit of such things. Also, I'd avoid swallowing it if I were you." A beat. Looking to Bethany with a bright grin on her face. "Hello, dearest Bethany. How are you doing?" She inquires, ever so politely. "An alchemist? Recently arrived in town? Lyceni? Name of Ira perhaps?" She ventures.

Unfortunately for poor Bethany, the event had mostly concluded and those who stayed at the shelter were drifting off to sleep on their sturdy cots. Silas looks his sister's way, but he doesn't look dismayed. "Oh, Bethy, you could still help me out with my leftovers," he suggests before looking back in Juliet's direction when she asks her questions. He awaits an answer first.

"Ah, Lady Juliet, you look glow like a summer sunrise --" with a dual compliment-greeting, as she drops into a subdued curtsy. "Yes, my Lady. The very same. Employed to the Fidantes, as he was telling me. I will admit that the idea of finding someone to teach me more upon the subject is very appealing. In tandem with Mistress Valery, yes, I think I will find no better tutors on the subjects."

Silas doesn't look terribly thrilled, given what he just learned about this man, but he ultimately lets go of his worry. "As long as he doesn't attempt to drug you, I'm glad to hear you're learning alchemy. I'm thinking I might start to dabble in the minor stuff when I have the time; it's fascinating." He moves to the table with the two chests resting upon it. "Does Jeremiah have something to store all his stuff in, sis?"

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

"And you are a delight as always, my sweet," Juliet offers to Bethany in turn, with a bright smile, taking a step closer. "I've not talked to him as of yet - As an Apothecary I expect he'll be closer to Calista than myself - but I do look forward to meeting him. I understand he has quite the talent for mixtures and ointments." Pausing briefly, looking to Silas. "If you need any further assistance, Sir Silas, I would be happy to offer it." A beat, and then she looks back to Bethany. "You know, I didn't get to compliment you properly the other night - far too much going on. Your dress wwas simply -radiant-"

Bethany cants her head slightly to the side, "He stores all of his things in his -" she gestures avidly, "- his carryall. I never stopped to consider that he ever had more than what he carried." She murmurs, struck by her callous assumption for precisely a heartbeat - maybe two. "I will ask." She blinks, looking askance at Silas, as her eyes widen: "Drug me. Oh, damnation, is the gentleman as mad as he looks..." a snort, shaking her head. "I will be very careful." Now, toward Juliet, offering the lady a hint of a smile. "It was lovely, yes. His Highness, Prince Cicero, was very kind to gift it to me."

"Soon, my sister will outshine me in popularity. The city better prepare itself!" Silas declares in jest before nodding to Bethany. "I'll send him one of these. He -will- be my brother-in-law soon, if all goes well." He looks to Juliet again. "I have heard Tor has its own apothecary college. Perhaps I'll go attend a class or two?" He lifts one of the chests off the table. "And I will send this one to Mistress Calandra."

Silas gets an arch-topped cedar chest with steel hardware from a rustic wooden pantry.

"Apparently he tried to trick Marquis Kennex into imbibing in Banana Leaf," Juliet offers, helpfully. "I am looking forward to hearing that story from his lips," She concludes, with a bright-eyed grin. "It fit you in a rather fetching manner, my dear." She muses. "And even more so when you had roses in your cheeks. Or roses in your hair, perhaps? We should walk in the gardens." Looking over to Silas, she nods, with a hint of pride. "The Tor Apothecary College is the finest in Arvum, rivalled only by Blancbier, who comes a close second." Maybe there's some national pride there. "I appreciate your kindness ever more, Sire. I'm sure the Nightingale will enjoy it quite well."

Silas gets an arch-topped cedar chest with steel hardware from a rustic wooden pantry.

"Oh my." Bethany frowns thinly, "Curious. I will need to seek out the Marquis to learn his side of the story before I lay my verbal seige upon the unsuspecting Ira. To attempt to drug anyone, well --" she hitches a shoulder, "-- it it not wise to do. Ever. Ah," she grins crookedly. "I think the prince was a little dismayed that you were the one that caused the roses in my cheeks, my Lady. I was feeling quite exposed. Lovely, but exposed. Ah - yes - we ought to walk the Fidante gardens. Before the weather cools."

Silas takes a peek in the chest. It creaks softly. "Hmm. She gets my favorite cloak, though it may be a bit too heavy for her tastes. We'll see." He nods to Juliet. "It is a very laudable accomplishment. Perhaps we should make use of our own plants and herbs in such a manner, in the future. I don't see us competing with you and House Wyrmguard any time soon, however." He grunts at Bethany. "If he tries such a thing again I'll probably arrest him, truthfully. If just to make a point."

"If he tries, Silas --" she starts, stops. Bethany continues with a lift of her chin and a matter-of-fact tone, "-- it wouldn't take so much, I think, to take care of the issue. Merely grab, pull, and twist."

"Prince Cicero did admit to me that he is quite fond of you," Juliet agrees, with a small smile. "I think you speak to his sense of pride, and that is his drive. Ambition to always do better." The Lady Fidante's eyes glitter with mischief. "I expect that may be what you find appealing about him, as well, mm?" She offers with a smile. Considering the woman in her current garb. "I should look into getting more proper Lycene garb, before the weather turns." She concludes. "Maybe we can wear matching dresses." Quirking her lips, as she looks to Silas. "The Apothecary College has a yearly competition for innovation in rose-breeding. While there's a category for the most perfect flower, more is awarded for successfully driving the field forward - such as creating a hybrid breed with a new field. Tor takes great pride in its roses, and we have roses for just about anything." Pausing. "As I understand it, the Marquis made a kind offer of seeing to his hand and ensuring none of his fingers were in need of medical attention. Since that's a thing that could happen if he did it again." Pausing, considering. "Though, like I said, I do want to hear what Messere Ira has to say for himself."

In comes Jeremiah--grave, but uncertain. He stops right inside the doorway, hurriedly fidgeting with the buttons on his vest before heading closer towards Juliet, Silas, and Bethany, single-mindedly focused on the man in the middle.

The two women get a somewhat formal greeting--there's too much focus for anything else. "Bee--Lady Juliet," he greets, adding on more stiff--but mostly -confused- "Silas. Might we have a word, if you've a moment?" he inquires-requests. The look on his features says it might requests-demands, but his voice is more level and calm.

Squee, the Flying Squirrel arrives, delivering a message to Silas before departing.

"Jay - Jeremiah - " she greets with a bright smile and watches, keenly aware - suddenly very focused on fidgets and stiff movements and confusion. Her eyebrows beetle together and she bites, hard, on the inside of her cheek.

Silas seems he's about to answer Juliet when a messenger and Jeremiah simultaneously ensnare his attention. He accepts the note first, before turning to Jeremiah, his curiosity obvious. "Sure." He gestures for Jeremiah to join him in the back of the shelter.

There's an attempt at a reassuring smile to Bethany--and maybe even Juliet, whether or not she looks concerned!--but. The moment. Silas. That's where his grave focus remains.