Fajra arrives, following Lianne.

Reedy, a King's Own aide arrives, following Corban.

Elena, a solemn knight attache, Alette, a discreet lady's maid, Isabel, a calm diplomatic aide arrive, following Zara.

With it being so cold outside, Prince Talwyn Valardin is pulling his half-cloak tight into his body while every breath shows. A broad smile shown to Princess Helena as Talwyn bows his head to the Redrain Princess. "Helena. A fine day to you. A pleasure even. I look forward to this. And have done." A touch of red to his cheeks as he stumbles on words, Talwyn continues to take a seat somewhere near the main stage.

Khanne walks in, all dressed in white, and heads off to her favorite sofa to sit for such occasions. Once seated, she watches the door as if waiting to see if someone in particular will arrive.

Lianne has joined the Stately Sofa of Somnolence.

Talwyn has joined the Stately Sofa of Somnolence.

There's a great fluff of furs as Zara shakes her cloak loose to pass into the hands of one of her attendants. Just one or two snowflakes melt in her dark hair. She notes Talwyn straight off, inclining her head to her cousin as she moves to take a seat nearby.

Zara has joined the Stately Sofa of Somnolence.

Tesha hasn't visited the Academy since she returned to Arx, so with the reading that was going on there was a reason to brave the snow and enjoy a few moments away from the books and ledgers. The Telmar woman is dressed in a golden gown and a black cloak, which she pulls the hood down on when she arrives. There's a nod to those that she knows and a smile to Khanne as she approaches her sister-in-law, "I see you've ran away from home as well." she teases her gently.

Helena stands at the lectern set at the front of the Reading Room, greeting each guest as they enter; those she knows are greeted warmly with smiles and a clasp of hands; those she does not are greeted with the same along with an introduction of herself. As usual, the reading room is as it always is -- a warm and cozy place to read books -- added to this is a supply of quills and small paper bound journals for any note taking or writing assignments (Helena is known to give out prompts, task mistress as she is). In addition today however are little shot glasses of whiskey -- this is not the usual arrangement, and a little bit of a deviation from the reading room policy on 'not getting into one's cups' when debating. However, no one's debating, and there must be a reason for it.

"Welcome!" says Helena once most people have entered and found their places, a bright smile as she looks at the room. "It's lovely to see some new faces, and as always, good to see my dedicated poets and poetry lovers who have been to their fair share of these. Please raise your hand if you plan to read today? And don't drink the whiskey until there's a toast in a bit,' she adds, eyes sparkling. "It is good Farhaven whiskey, so I know it's tempting to drink it now."

Peri slips in quietly to take a seat out of the way of all the authors. she's here to listen.

All the extra layers which saw Lianne through the cold are left just outside the Academy's reading room with Fajra, the poor girl piled in more cloaks than anyone really could ever need. Unless that anyone is a Setarcan noblewoman who, after years in Arx, still hasn't quite adjusted to these northern--yes, northern--winters. The marquessa, freed of the burden of those layers, moves much more comfortably toward the redheaded shaman who she's very clearly looking for. She settles in next to Khanne with a nearness which suggest familiarity, leaning right into the Vala's personal space to press a kiss to her cheek. "Darling." To the others nearby, there's a nod, a light wobble of her hand in answer to somehing. And then attention is forward, upon Helena.

Corban makes his way on into the Reading Room, spying both his cousin, Tesha, and his cousin-in-law, Khanne, here. Each gets a smile and a nod as he comes along, eyeing the paper he holds. When the request for hands comes, he raises his.

Evaristo enters right on time to hear Helena's welcoming and he bows to the gathered nobility before he moves to sit down. "I'm reading, Princess!" he calls out to Helena, grinning widely and cheerfully - his hand shoots up in the air. He flops down on a seat - he is looking decidedly hungover.

Evaristo has joined the a comfortable ivory leather and mahogany wooden sofa.

Of people who you would expect to see at the Vellichorian Academy, those who know Artur Redrain would say: he is not it. Artur is not a terribly scholarly type! Still, he has had word of an *extraordinary* poetry reading today and so he comes dashing in at the very last minute, looking as though he has likely sprinted all the way from the Redrain ward. He's even dressed up nicely in silk and everything! Coming to a skidding halt just through the door, Artur glances about and looks pleased that things are not in full swing just yet! Early! Success! Looking pretty pleased with himself, Artur peers about the room and picks out a seat. As he moves across the room, he even spots a few people he knows! "Lennyyyy!" is called in the direction of his cousin at the lectern, while Khanne gets a respectful bow of Artur's head. He's still grinning like a lunatic though.

Peri has joined the a comfortable ivory leather and mahogany wooden sofa.

Merek makes his way into the reading room with his longcoat upon his form, his dark attire on beneath that while he looks about.

Seated at the sofa, Khanne looks up to Tesha. "Sometimes, one has to. Yes?" She smiles and shrugs a shoulder. "Today is for opening my mind to things outside of the walls of the estate... and, I think, perhaps some people need proof I still exist." She laughs a little and opens her arms towards Lianne when she sees her, making room beside her for the Marquessa to sit. She offers her cheek for that kiss and adds, "I was -just- saying to someone how much I miss you." Lifting her hand, she waves to Corban with a smile." With the call to raise hands, she lowers hers. "Oh, i am not reading, i don't think. Just listening."

Laurel arrives, following Ras.

Artur has joined the a green sofa by the window.

"Corban." Tesha smiles brightly when she sees her cousin and there's a wave to him. Then there's a look to Khanne and she nods to that, "It is always good to see you." she tells her. Then there's a look to others that come in and then there's a dip of her head politely to Talwyn and Zara, "Your Highnesses." she greets them. Then she's taking a moment to find herself a seat, "I'm just listening." she nods to this.

Zara has left the Stately Sofa of Somnolence.

Elena, a solemn knight attache have been dismissed.

Alette, a discreet lady's maid have been dismissed.

Isabel, a calm diplomatic aide have been dismissed.

Ras walks in resolutely, despite looking not at all familiar with the area. There's a stubborn cast to his features and his shoulders are squared, back straight, brow furrowed. He glances around the Reading Room swiftly, taking stock of attendants as if he's searching for someone in particular.

Tesha has joined the chairs by the bookcase hearth.

"For all that I hide, I'm not difficult to find," Lianne teases Khanne. She watches the room to see how many hands go up and how many stay down. When the majority of those in attendance seem to be audience rather than performer, she lifts a hand to give a wobbly little wave toward Helena to volunteer. Does she have anything prepared? No, it doesn't seem so. Will she make a go of it all the same? Very possibly.


Not far behind Ras is the far more somber looking Laurel, tugging at the shawl with the edges tucked in the back of her belt she pauses. Her eyes follow the young lad and then is grasping at her skirts to follow him. Out of place. That is what she looks and she steps up beside him to whisper. Her brows furrow and she lets her gaze wander the room at large.


Corban gets a pleased smile and nod, and Evaristo's exuberant entrance draws a laugh and a nod as well, which is drawn out further by Artur's running in and calling her by his cousinly nickname for her. Her cheeks color a little and she gives a little wave, waiting for more replies to her query of who might read. "Well then," she begins, "To begin, I often start with a small little extemporaneous writing prompt, to take in the collective creativity of sharing such a space with so many wonderful poets and thinkers. If you have your own quill and journal, feel free to use those, or borrow one from those provided." She gestures to the supplies around the room. "And we'll take five minutes to write on a prompt before we do our prepared readings." She looks around, to ensure people can find the ink, quills, and journals around the room. "You do *not* need to write a poem. You may answer it anyway that makes sense to you in the five minutes we have."

She picks up a sand glass. "The prompt is simply 'Legend has it...'

Helena turns the time piece over so the sand begins to slip through its funneled neck -- five minutes to write.

Leaning back into the couch, Talwyn's hands lock across his brocaded jacket as he listens to Helena speak. Hushing himself and some of the conversation around him, a nod to a passing servant for a glass of white wine, another for Princess Zara.

Ras shifts, one boot sliding subtly so that his shoulders are less squared to the room, leaning partly towards Laurel. An almost relieved look crosses his face as he murmurs something back to her, but it's more complicated than that, a shadow gathering over his eyes under knit brows. His face is smeared with ash and so are his clothes, grubby and unfashionable. A beat later he mutters something else, and turns fully back towards the main Academy hall.

Helena glances at Ras and raises a brow. "Master Ras, you are free to stay and listen, if you like," she says warmly. "Or share if you have something of your own."

Zara has joined the Stately Sofa of Somnolence.

"Ah, but I sometimes am," Khanne comments to Lianne with a wink. After that, she turns to some quieter conversation with those near her, taking out her journal and writing implement.


Laurel's hand comes to Ras' shoulder a moment, nodding faintly as the two look a pair. Dusted in ash and her own face looks hastily cleaned. But its easier to see the dark soot here and there upon her fair skin and hair. She smiles faintly, a look over the halls as she hesitates when Ras is called to by someone of greater station. Stormy eyes track towards Helene and the goodwoman removes her hand from Ras shoulder. Offering a smile towards Helene she leans down to speak softly. with her companion, a questioning look given to him.


Zara murmurs her thanks in passing to Talwyn, while the prompt is greeted with a tap-tap-tap of her quill to her jaw as the first minute slips away. Think, first. Then act. Or write. Or whatever. Look, mostly there's a lot of think right now.

Artur looks momentarily confused as Helena explains the warm-up activity, though he seems to get the idea fairly quickly and leaps to his feet with his customary energy. He hasn't brought parchment, or ink...or a quill (who would've thought?!) but he's pretty quick to avail himself of all three. A glance is given at the unknown figures of Ras and Laurel, Artur considering them briefly as they arrive and then move to depart just as suddenly. He doesn't seem to let it distract him too much, however, as he is soon frantically scribbling away at the task. Artur clearly has something in mind! He's working pretty quickly, tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth as he concentrates.

Peri stares off into the distance as though viewing scenes of legends, but she does not write anything. She has a frown of concentration.

Called out, Ras swivels towards Helena. He lifts a hand in an uncertain wave. "Um -" he says. "I- we-" There's some stammering, and a gesture to Laurel. "Uhh, we've got work to do--" A headshake, and his complexion darkens with a flush, but he manages to give the semi-courteous farewell of, "See ya, Helena Redrain."

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

Like sand in an hour glass... so are the minutes of a writing exercise. They slip by quickly, and Helena watches the last fine grains fall into the base of the timepiece, before she glances up at Ras' farewell. She can't help but smile a little at the lack of formality -- she certainly never makes anyone call her by title or greet her with bow. "Of course. Be well, Master Ras," she says, smiling at his partner in comings and goings, Laurel, it seems.

To the rest of the group, she speaks up, "And that is time. Does anyone want to share your thoughts? No need to be called upon, speak out as you will... or won't." Her blue eyes sparkle merrily as she waits.


As Ras refuses the invitation, Laurel inclines her head to him. "Thank you," she offers Helena, pausing at the name Redrain before she dips into a quick curtsey. Her fingers smooth her shawl back into place tucked along her belt and then gives Ras a side glance. A nod is then offered to the room at large before she turns, returning to the cold of the street and open air. She starts to follow him out but another quick backward glance is given in her bustling motion to take her leave with the younger figure, speaking softly with him as they go.


Setting down his quill, Talwyn laughs slightly as he considers his work before turning his chin to Khanne to flash a pearl-white smile to her. "I do not believe we have in proper. It is a delight to meet though at last, like everyone." His lips blow onto the paper, ensuring it is dry and he is ready.

On his way out, a messenger taps Ras with a note, and he glances down to read it. Reading just a few sentences takes him longer than it should, and his mouth tightens in a stubbornly resigned look. He's off the hook with Helena, but for some reason, he decides to change course from the exit and circle the room back towards the Redrain princess.


Laurel remains near the exit to the room as Ras circles back around. A brow arches slowly upwards as she starts to say something but instead folds her hands before her. Her gaze follows his movement and then she takes a few wandering steps closer but remains apart from the others. Her weight shifts from foot to foot with the slow sway of her black skirts. Patiently she waits, giving briefly glances back and forth towards the others. A faint smile occasionally drawing across her lips but staying no longer than a second or more before she clears her throat and looks down, starting the process all over again.


Tesha takes her seat and looks to be contented to sit and listen to the others. She's an economist, not a writer or poet. She gives a look around the room to the others and then there is a look back to the paper in front of her.

When the call for contributions comes, Lianne takes a second to look around before straightening a touch without actually rising from her seat. She reads directly from the page:

"Legend has it, a hermit lives in my tower.
Its beard grows an inch each day it's unseen
and, by now, winds down all the steps to the
wine cellar, the wispy tips of its whiskers
soaked in an earthy red. I can't say if it's
true as I've never seen such a creature, but
should you search the chest by my bed & find
an impossible length of wine-tinged tangles?
I might be able to tell you something about
solitude."

With that, she flashes a faint, mischievous smile, angling a sidelong look to Khanne.

Possibly not entirely appropriate for a poetry reading, Artur turns over his piece of parchment to show -a drawing! It's not a great drawing, mind you, being as it was done with ink and in five minutes or less, but there is a rough idea there. Across the top of the page is scrawled 'Queen V fights a demon' in handwriting that could probably use another year or so of calligraphy lessons. It's quite boxy and scratchy. Still, below -that- is the basic outline of an armored woman fighting something that looks like a cow-octopus hybrid.

As Lianne reads, Ras shifts closer to Helena, until he's only a few paces away.

When Ras heads Helena's way, her brows draw together slightly, and she glances at him, then looks up to listen to Lianne's reading. Her expression brightens and she beams warmly at the Marquessa. "Lovely. You have such an imagination, and a way with words, Marquessa." She turns to look at Ras when he leans in to whisper, her expression quizzical, before she leans to whisper back.

Khanne looks up when Lianne rises from the seat beside her. She listens, and almost immediately, begins smiling in a way she feels the need to cover it up with a raise hand, two fingers over her lips. Her shoulders shake a little, revealing a near silent chuckle is definitely present before she stands and gives her friend a hug. "Wonderful read, Darling. Wonderful." She sits down then, looking at her still blank page.

Khanne is overheard praising Lianne: It's all about the beard.

Artur breaks into a cheer for Lianne as she finishes, giving her a hearty round of applause.

Standing up, Talwyn lifts his chin to allow his voice to cast across the chamber. "Legend has it." Talwyn starts with the title:

"He rises from his gentle bed.
With thoughts of kittens in his head.
He only eats his jam with lots of bread.
Ready for the day ahead.
Talwyn inclines his head afterwards as his poem was a light affair, a simple one. "Thank you." Back Talwyn returns to sit beside Zara and sips his white wine. "Well written and thought of Marquessa Lianne."

Khanne is overheard praising Talwyn: Try the apricot preserves from Lottie. TO DIE FOR.

The hostess clasps Ras' hand as she murmurs to him, before turning back to those gathered. Catching sight of Artur's drawing, Helena laughs again, before turning her eyes to Talwyn and smiling as he stands. "A legend after my own heart," she says warmly.

Evaristo applauds from his slouched position, violet eyes looking more alert now that people are starting to present their work. He shifts the lute he's brought with him to his lap - seems he'll accompany anything he has to read with music, possibly singing as well.

Helena is overheard praising Lianne.

Helena is overheard praising Talwyn.

Tesha is overheard praising Talwyn.

Tesha is overheard praising Lianne.

Khanne pauses to applaud Talwyn, then once again looks at her parchment. 'Legend has it', she writes in her not so beautiful script. But there... she seems to stop. "Maybe I can think on it and... write more later."

Ras shifts back from Helena with a slight nod, and circles back around the room at a quick skulk. He nods to Laurel, and makes for the exit.

"Next we shall have our scheduled readings. Don't touch that whiskey yet -- I promise you'll get to drink it soon," Helena says with a laugh. "Mockingbird Evaristo, would you like to start us off?" she says, gaze falling on the Bard and Harlequin next.

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


Ras is not the only one to receive a messenger for as she waits patiently, Laurel takes up the message and opens it. She straightens up slowly and looks relieved to see Ras heading her way. She pauses to clap belatedly for the performances. She glances to the others and when Ras gets close she says something and then continues with him out as she folds the parchment in her hand, giving it a little movement.


Laurel leaves, following Ras.

Evaristo stands up at that and smiles brightly at Helena, and then at the audience. "I'm a bard and I just can't present my pieces without singing them - well alright I /can/, but this is a song I wrote so it just works better with some music and singing," he babbles cheerfully. "This song is called 'The Shade' - a local legend that some of you may know of, said to protect the people of the Lowers." He touches the strings on his lute a few times and then starts playing - it's a short ballad, quite powerful in rendering.

The light over Lowers is starting to fade
The sounds of the docks are reduced to a buzz
That's when the alleys and inns come to life
With darkness of night comes the undying Shade
Who walks right amongst us, just one of us
Watching and guarding and sharing our strife

The sun over Lowers is starting to rise
The Murder is quiet, the dock stirrs once more
The hawkers are shouting, the kids run around
And very few know that the Shade in disguise
Has kept us all safe from the dark come ashore
As a shadow itself knows that darkness abound

Talwyn has left the Stately Sofa of Somnolence.

Though Lianne applauds quietly for the song Evaristo performs, her expression looks thoughtful, the cant of her head and the angle of her eyebrows at odds with the otherwise bright smile she wears. Tilting toward Khanne, she murmurs something quietly.

Lygeia, a calligrapher and alchemist arrives, following Rysen.

Evaristo's words and good natured bumbling makes Helena laugh, and she nods along with the music as he sings, applauding at the end of the song. "Just lovely, and how lucky to have such a guardian among those in the Lowers," she says warmly. "Thank you so much for sharing both your words and your music with us, Mockingbird."

Helena is overheard praising Evaristo.

Falling quiet as Evaristo starts playing, Artur watches on in wide-eyed wonder, clearly spellbound by the poem set to song. He holds a few seconds at the end, just to make sure he's all the way finished, before bursting onve more into gratefull applause. There is even a 'woop' in there somewhere!

Rysen slips into the reading room, catching the very end of Evaristo's song. He smiles warmly at Helena, and quickly finds a seat with Lygeia at the sofa next to Peri, and his hands to the applause.

Rysen has joined the a comfortable ivory leather and mahogany wooden sofa.

Evaristo takes a bow after his song, and then produces a small scroll which he presents to the hostess. "Here is the sheet music and lyrics," he tells her. "Thanks for hosting these events, they are amazing," he adds, giving her a warm and fond smile before he sits back down.

Khanne listens to Evaristo's song with a curious tilt of her head, though a smile does play upon her lips. When he is finished, she applauds. "Interesting, and beautiful both."

Khanne is overheard praising Evaristo.

Corban nods his head in agreement, applauding lightly for Evaristo when his song and reading are complete. He clutches his paper in his hand, perhaps waiting for him to be called up. But he does give a small smile to Khanne and Tesha, reassuring himself with his family.

"Thank you so much," says Helena, accepting the scroll and the nodding to Corban. "And Sir Corban, I believe you have a poem you'd like to share?" she says, blue eyes turning on the King's Own Captain, gesturing him up to the lectern.

Sir Corban Telmar, the First Captain of the King’s Own, steps to the front of the room when he is called forward. “This is not my own writing,” admits the knight. “It, instead, reflects my own research. It is a song from the Dune Kingdom of Glor’Russ from centuries ago that I uncovered in my studies, about the ancient Sword of Caer’alfar and the First Knight. My research reflects it was a song in Eurusi, but that the rhythms are lost with the translation into Arvani. So I will read it as a poem.”

And with that introduction, Corban begins.

"Go to the First City, and hear the song,
of steel clashing, where the chains were strong.
And among those chains the king found his Sword,
Who taught and raised others bound by word.

”Warriors were born, and warriors died,
they lived to serve for their masters' pride.
But the Sword found one who refused to fall,
And in that one heard Honor's call.

”The king wished warriors to bleed and fight,
But in that one he knew there was more to might.
And so he taught others of what was right,
And the in that one was born the first Knight.

”A mighty college was built and grew,
As Sword and Knight taught all the knew.
But honor has fierce demands,
And the Knight took his leave across the sands.

”For in the coming darkness, the coming night,
the Knight saw the dimming light,
And though those with honor will often fall,
To do what is right leaves no choice at all."

Khanne's brows go up at Corban's explanation, and she listens close. Applauding when he is finished, she says, I can see why you chose it. Lovely, Sir Corban. Might I add, it is great to see you."

Helena finds herself nodding along with the meter of Corban's recitation, though she smiles at the end. "Skald would disagree with that last line, though I know what is meant by it," she says, with sparkling eyes. "Thank you for sharing. Marquessa, that brings you to the podium next," she says to Lianne with a smile.

Helena is overheard praising Corban.

"An amazing poem - and well read too," says Rysen softly as Corban concludes. He applauds the Captain of the King's Own as well.

Evaristo looks quite surprised when Corban presents that poem, squinting at him. There's something speculative in his gaze for a moment, head tilted. He applauds when he's done, quite enthusiastically.

Corban smiles and makes his way over to Khanne, giving her a friendly hug and a kiss on the cheek. "It has been far too long," he confirms for the Vala. "I am sure you are taking care of my good cousin." A wink at her and he goes to settle himself down to hear Lianne's reading.

Peri nods hello to Rysen and Lygeia when they join her. She is too entranced in the music and recitals to chatter as much as her wont.

Tesha is sitting quietly in the chairs near the bookcase hearth and seeming to enjoy just listening to the readers and poets. Not adding anything of her own. But she does listen intently at her cousins words when he speaks.

Merek listens to the poems while he blinks a bit, seeming to consider it with a shift of hip with a look to folk, nodding in thought also.

Khanne is overheard praising Corban.

Lianne, called to the podium, gives Khanne's hand a squeeze then rises to her feet. She brings no page with her this time, intending to recite from memory. With a murmur of thanks toward Helena, she addresses the audience and explains, "I've never had a bard's talent for rhyming or form, but I've made an attempt with this one all the same." For a moment, it seems like she might add some additional preface, a faint furrow forming between her eyebrows, but whatever that thought may have been is banished by a smile before she begins.

"Some stories are set in stone,
their endings never to be righted,
carved in ice and in copper grown.

I walked through gardens, not alone,
each bloom born of hope unrequited,
of stories long since set in stone.

For one dreamer: a garden all her own,
countless roses for a heart unquiet,
all rimed in ice and copper grown.

Blossoms of glinting metal shown
for every regrown hope benighted,
her endless story set in stone.
rWith futility such beauty was sown.
Only one mortal has ever delighted
in all that ice and copper grown.

Her story is one you've always known,
no happy ending or lovers united.
Some stories are forever set in stone,
carved in ice, in copper grown."

The the poem concludes, she looks across the faces of the crowd, her own smile gone, bows her head, then steps away to rejoin the others where she's been listening.

Tesha is overheard praising Corban.

Helena is overheard praising Lianne.

Peri is overheard praising Lianne.

Peri is overheard praising Helena: for gathering poets together

Artur is clearly enjoying himself! He drinks in each of the readings with enthusiasm and each reader gets a loud cheer of approval and a noisy round of applause.

Lianne is overheard praising Evaristo: Such an interesting song.

Lianne is overheard praising Corban: I would've liked to hear the original.

Lianne's poem draws an impressed look from the Redrain princess, and then a wistful and sad sigh. Her eyes glitter a little but no tears fall and she is quiet for a moment before she applauds. "You say you have no talent for form, but that is a very difficult form to do and you have done it beautifully," she says softly. "Thank you for that, Marquessa." She laughs a little huskily. "I do not wish to follow you, truth be told. I should have gone first."

Evaristo sits up straight and his mouth agape after Lianne's poem - he recognizes the rhytm of it, the complicated verses. And the story itself has him looking quite sentimental and thoughtful. "Bravo!" he calls and applauds vigorously.

Peri continues to hold a whiskey without drinking it. She leans over to Rysen and Lygeia to speak.

Rysen listens to Lianne, and a thoughtful, but somewhat sorrowful smile touches his features. He applauds, and says softly, "May the stone corrode and ice yet flow, that something new may for her grow."

Khanne gives Lianne's hand a squeeze in return before the beautiful brunette rises. She smiles up at her as she begins to recite the poem from within her memory. "Impressive," she whispers. But then, Khanne has a hard time remembering her name sometimes it seems. She focuses on the words themselves then and just beams, but that smile turns into a pout. "Awww... Copper." She is applauding though, her lips twisted to not get too emotional.

Peri is overheard praising Lianne: It was lovely and you got a cheer from Evaristo too.

Khanne is overheard praising Lianne: You gave me feels!

Evaristo has left the a comfortable ivory leather and mahogany wooden sofa.

Alena Sparks, unamused first mate, Silk, the Seafaring Spider leave, following Evaristo.

An unusual touch of color graces Lianne's cheeks at the reception to her villanelle, her head dipped as in as much acceptance as she can muster, though it looks as if she might wish to hurry things along and have someone else take up the spotlight. Like Rysen, perhaps, his footnote to her poem earning a bright, pleased smile.

Helena returns to the lectern, having been off toward one of the walls whenever a poet is reading. "Guess what?" she says excitedly. "It's time for the toast." She gestures to the little shot glasses of fine Farhaen whiskey, getting those present to pick them up. "My poem today begins with a toast... to butter you all up to enjoy it more, perhaps. But truly, the poem is about Weohstan Redrain. There is a saying among the Redrain warriors, 'Like Weohstan's Vamplate,' when referring to a person who lifts up those around them. But," she says, eyes sparkling, "they splash a bit of their drink on the person next to them when they toast, symbolic of the dragonfire that killed him." She looks around. "To all of those who brave the crowd to lift their voices in poem, I say you are like Weohstan's Vamplate, and those of you who support those poets, you are as well." She glances at her own little glass of whiskey, before adding, "This is Farhaven reserve, so you may not want to splash it on your seatmates and save it for yourself. The choice is yours." She lifts her glass, and does the shot, a wink thrown over to her fellow Redrain in attendance, Artur.

Rysen turns his eyes, shinning with admiration, from Lianne at the mention of whiskey. He smiles at Peri and says, "Ah, this is what you meant. ...You're not going to splash me are you?" as he picks up a small glass of whiskey and raises it to Helena.

Peri glances at Rysen with a arched brow. She considers the small amount of whiskey in the glass. She sticks a hand in her glass and then flicks droplets of whiskey at Rysen and Lygeia before raising her glass to them and the room.

Artur laughs happily as the story is told, the prince reaching immediately for one of the shot glasses dotted about the room as the toast is announced. Lifting his glass, Artur joins the toast with enthusiasm, downing the majority of the glass, before turning to splash the nearest person(s) to him with the final few drops, laughig happily as he does. This accomplished, Artur reaches into his surcoat and produces a little companion! A dragon plushie, which he sets down beside him for the next part of the proceedings.

Artur drops a dragon plush from the 'Demise of Weohstan Redrain' .

As those gathered splash and/or drink whiskey, Helena's eyes sparkle, before she opens her journal to the page marked by a red silk ribbon. "He is quite a legend among the northerners, his stories very tall at times and it's often hard to discern truth from myth. But he did fight many beasts, and he was well loved."

She laughs as Artur pulls out a plush dragon and shakes her head slightly, trying to school her features into a more somber expression for the more somber reading -- she only succeeds marginally.

"Bravehearted Weohstan, how did you fall?;
Your men lie beside you, loyal to last breath.;
The night sky, black as velvet, shrouds you,;
and the winds keen, lamenting your death.

Laughing Weohstan, where is your amulet?
It could not have guarded you from this fire
that claimed you; its precious gift was warmth
that defied even the Maw's frozen ire.

Ambitious Weohstan, what did you trade it for?
A book of secrets, the weaknesses of your prey,
bought at the cost of your life and your men's,
bought for the price of your own doomsday.

Tragic Weohstan, how could you know
it would tell you where to land that fatal hit
on the black wyrm threatening your beloved north,
But not that it would be the last thing you ever did?

Heroic Weohstan, how you did suffer--
Dragonfire burning both serpent and man.
Redrains of Farhaven, untouched and unburned,
Remember the sacrifice of brave Weohstan."

Lygeia narrows her eyes at Peri, betraying the slightest shadow of a rare, good-humored smile. Rysen laughs and returns the favor for Peri, flicking a bit of whiskey on the Voice of House Seliki before throwing back his shot. "Gods and spirits, Your Highness," says Rysen to Helena, smiling as Northlanders do when drinking fine whiskey, "as if these excellent songs and poems were not enough." He then turns his attention to Artur as he begins to read.

Tesha looks to the dragon plushie when it is plopped down on the table and there's a moment where her eyes light up, "Oh it's adorable." she whispers to herself. Lady Tesha loved all the creatures, whether mythical or not. She listens to Artur's story with a smile on her face and there's a soft clapping when he finishes.

Lianne accepts the shot of whiskey with a genuine smile, drawing the glass near enough that she might catch the scent. When Helena speaks of splashing the whiskey on those nearby, she angles a look toward Khanne, though it's difficult to know for certain whether it's meant to be threat or warning. Whatever the case, she lifts her glass when prompted and drinks without so much as a crinkle of her nose for the burn. This is nowhere near the Lycene lady's first shot of fine whiskey. She offers the glass back without spilling a drop on anyone, leaving her hands empty to applaud for Helena when her poem concludes, eyes bright with delight and approval.

Lianne is overheard praising Helena: As always, a remarkable poet and hostess. I might never leave my tower were it not for these readings.

Khanne is overheard praising Helena.

Artur bounces to his feet as Helena finishes her reading, pumping his fist twice as he gives an approving yell! Is it proper decorum to yell in the Reading room like that?! Who knows! One of the wonderful things about being a prince is you can do things like that and people kind of have to deal with it! Grinning broadly, Artur breaks into an emphatic round of applause, snatching up the dragon plush and waving it around triumphantly in praise of his cousin's efforts. "Good job Lenny!" he calls over to her, before eventually retaking his seat.

Helena's cheeks are a little rosy after the reading, perhaps from trying not to laugh, perhaps from the whiskey, perhaps because she's still not a fan of public speaking after all this time. But Artur's outburst makes her laugh again, and she shakes her head, not bothering to reprimand him. "Thank you all for coming today and sharing your favorite myths and legends with us and letting us share ours with you," she says warmly. "It was lovely to see new faces here, and I hope to see all of you at future readings."

Corban is overheard praising Helena.

Helena is overheard praising Scholars.

For someone _clearly_ more accustomed to tea, Zara handles the whiskey well, and without spilling a drop. There's only a slight narrowing of her eyes to betray her. She clears the glass from her hands to add her applause to others, with a quiet, warm pleasure for the tales, poems, and songs shared.

Khanne takes the offered shot of whiskey. MMMM, whiskey. Listening to Helena, she smiles back at Lianne, and when her friend finishes her own shot, Khanne dips a finger into the glass held in her pale hand and flicks a couple droplets toward Lianne with a wink. She downs the shot then, closing her eyes as she feels that familiar warmth. She listens then to Helena's poem, though her eyes have caught onto that plush. She gasps a little and whispers, "I kinda want one... I've only ever wanted one plush ever, but now I want that one...." She listens more and then stands, applauding Helena, adding a bit of an enthusiastic whistle. Whiskey and Weohstan seem to get her feeling energetic.

Another slight touch of sorrow touches Rysen's face after listeing to Helena. Artur's cheer snaps him from his reverie though, and he glances over his shoulder, suppressing a laugh when he calls her 'Lenny,' and smiling at Tesha, happy to see his cousin sitting in the back. Turning back to face Helena, he applauds loudly.

Laurene, a military adjutant arrives, delivering a message to Tesha before departing.

The fine whiskey puts a flush in Peri's checks and she follows the tale of Prince Weohstan with an intense interest. She applauds at the end. "What a worthy prince."

Reedy, a King's Own aide leaves, following Corban.

"Artur can tell Weohstan's escapades better than I. He is a fabulous storyteller," says Helena as she steps away from the lectern and goes to give her cousin a quick hug. "I'm glad you liked it," she says with a smile, before she begins to collect the glasses and probably wipe down a few splashes of whiskey here and there -- lest she never be allowed to host a reading in the Reading Room again.

"You're terrible," Lianne accuses Khanne affectionately as she swipes at a droplet of whiskey that found its way to the side of her nose, then another along her cheek. She's still smiling when she sips that liquor from her finger and looks over toward Artur and his dragon plush. Though she doesn't join the Vala in standing, she does note, "I believe we'd stand a chance," if her friend wished to try to liberate the toy from the prince through one means or another.

"Aren't I though?" Khanne asks Lianne with an 'innocent' smile. Looking back to the plush and Artur, eyes shifting between the two a moment, she finally seems to come to a decision. "Oh no... I could never take it from him. He's Artur!" As if that makes all the sense in the world. "I could... however... ask..." And she looks towards the Prince again. "Hey, Artur! Where did you get that, and can I bribe someone to get one too?"

"No plush coups allowed," says Helena with a grin as the others conspire against the Redrain prince and his darling dragon.

Artur squeaks! Actually squeaks! at the suggestion of having his plushie liberated from him! The prince scoops him up in his arms a little defensively, though adds with a laugh. "Isn't he amazing!?" taking a step of two nearer and 'flying' the dragon towards Khanne with a simulated roar. "I cannot remember when I got it you know. perhaps it was on mandatory grayson gift giving day one year?" he wonders aloud. He doesn't wonder long though, before grinning at Khanne and Lianne. "If you like him, I will take him to a seamstress and see if she can run a few copies of him up." the prince suggests.

"They were auctioning off the plushies a few months ago for something." Tesha comments. Then the Telmar woman is gathering her things up to leave. "Apologies, duty calls." she dips her head to those still present and makes her way out.

Tesha has left the chairs by the bookcase hearth.

Atramentous, The Highhill War Hound leaves, following Tesha.

"I would be exceptionally grateful if you did that," Khanne says to Artur, smiling at him. "Have I mentioned how good it is to see you? We should resume our old talks again soon." When Tesha makes her farewell announcement, Khanne frowns and waves to her sister-in-law. "I owe you a letter, dear Tesha. Please, take care."

Tobias, a pine marten arrives, delivering a message to Rysen before departing.