Cheep, a teenytiny button quail chick, Peep, a teenytiny button quail chick arrive, following Miraj.

It's one of those idyllic autumn days where the sky is bright and perfectly puffy white clouds dot the sky. Though it is not warm, it is comfortable enough even with the chill wind blowing along the shore. Away from the water's edge, tables have been arranged - some laden with food and drink, others set with chairs for the Faithful to feast. In the sand, a few fire pits have been dug, spits erected over them, giving off the scents of roasting pig, pheasant, and assorted fish. Godsworn and disciples move around the area ensuring platters of baked squash, boiled corn on the cob, roasted potatoes, apple pies, and more are plentiful. Past the food, all manner of drinks have been gathered for the judging.

Families are making their way down the path, lively chatter creating a hum of excitement in the air. Activities have been set up for the enjoyment of all ages, like an apple bobbing barrel, a pumpkin carving station, games of skill involving throwing a corn cob into a target, and bards perform songs to dance to. In the midst of this all, a group stands ready to kick off the festivities. Harlequin Medeia Eswynd is joined by Legate of Creation Bianca Wyrmguard, Sir Brannen Harthall, Brother Felix Meadson, Lord Haakon Wynd, and Disciple of Jayus Caprice Artiglio. At the start of the event, a bell is rung to get everyone's attention.

"Welcome to the Good Harvest festival!" The Harlequin calls out as she steps forward to greet the crowd. "We hope that you enjoy yourselves while you are here this afternoon. I have the great pleasure of getting things started today by introducing those who will lead us in prayer, and then direct us to the drinking. First, with some words on behalf of the Faith, Mother Bianca." Medeia steps aside so the woman can speak.

Amidst the swathe of aeterna and umbra, the Legate approached the edge of the waves' reach along the sandy shore of the beaches. She extended her arms outward toward those gathered, her voice lifting to project across the small dunes.

"Children of the Faith! Thank you for joining us this day in celebration of Good Harvest. First I would like to thank Harlequin Medeia Eswynd, Caprice Artiglio and Princess Zara Valardin for all the effort they have put into ensuring this year's festival is a beacon of hope to move us forward into the year to come.

Before we begin the festival let us take a moment and gather, lifting our voices to the gods in thanks for the seasons, good soil and the sustenance they provide. Sir Brannen, Brother Felix and Lord Haakon Eswynd shall be leading us in gratitude.."

Bianca stepped aside for the prayer leaders to step forward, falling quietly to the crowd with her chin lifting heavenward and eyes falling closed in preparation of the prayers.

Dodger, a brown rat arrives, following Audgrim.

Lady Teonia Redreef, Aryka Wyrmfang, 3 Thrax Guards, Marquessa Pudding, a doughy dog, 2 Thrax Elite Guards arrive, following Sorrel.

Medeia steps forward again, speaking clearly for all to hear, "Leading us in a prayer to Lagoma will be Sir Brannen Harthall." She motions a hand toward the man so he may begin.

Hand delicately hooked in the crook of Leonel's arm, the Marquessa Tyche Inverno traverses the path to the beach with the many, many, many citizens looking to partake in the good harvest, to put thoughts of war aside and delve into some good old fashioned drunken revelry. To her Velenosa companion she murmurs, "If I have to carry you out of here after all of the drinking, Leo, we may be in for a long journey back to the estate." A small warning against indulging TOO much, and she quiets to see the festival already begun, the prayers being directed to the Gods. "Just in time," she remarks, directing them with a squeeze of fingers to join the circle, a merry smile to her lips and a general air of enjoyment already settling in without any alcohol to assist just yet.

Sir Brannen is not wearing the usual apparel of a Knight of Solace. Instead, he donned a long robe of simple white linen. Barefeet on the beach of seemingly endless marble, he gently steps in front of the nearest fire pit, gazing into the fire with a serene expression. While thinking about his words, he watches the flame flicker.

"Lagoma," Brannen begins, lowering his head in reverence, "with this feast, we commemorate your blessings. The everlasting turn of seasons gives us prospect and hope." His left hand moves from the top to the bottom, palm upside, while his right hand mirrors this motion, as he speaks the sentence, "There is change in everything and hence there is hope for change."

Brannen's voice becomes less silent and humble as he praises, "Your blessing allows us to forget or forgive and your gifts remind us that no searing heat nor any darkness will prevail. This next season will bring cool nights and chilly breezes, and it will remind us to prepare for winter."

A faint smile emerges from his lips. "It is through change", he markedly stresses the word, "that we become better. What we experience over the course of the seasons is what allows us to purify, to re-assess." Softly, he adds, "And to heal."

"Lagoma," he concludes, "we beseech you, continue warming our hearts with hope and healing; we beseech you, as we fuel our flames of compassion and consideration."

He then lowers his head again, watching the flame as the others join the prayers.

Miraj suffers for her fashion. Dressed in a scandalously sheer wrap dress, all she has for protection from the chill elements is a fur lined shawl which she keeps gripped quite snugly round her shoulders. Some moments later she joins in with the prayer, dipping her head as Brannen does.

Braxas stands at a central location near the tables and food. He looks to the announcements as they are made and bows his head politely and respectfullyf for prayers. The giant Whisper Apprentince wears unbra with amethyst accents and carries his lute having volunteered to be live entertainment today for the festivities. he prays silently with the others lips moving soundlessly.

Once Brannen has spoken and ended his prayer, Medeia waits brief moment before introducing the next prayer leader. "Leading us in prayer to Ptrichor will be Brother Felix Meadson."

Felix steps forward, greeting the crowd with a light bow, relaxed smile, and amiable air. Dressed in the same cloth and leather that he smiths in, with the same smudges of soon and sweat stain upon his person. A lifted hand waits until everyone is ready, giving new arrivals a chance to get settled, and for those who might not be finished yet to continue their own prayers to Lagoma, before he continues on with his own prayer. "Petrichor, Patron of Farmers, we thank and praise you. With your blessing we succeed at hunting and harvests. Through your grace we know the warmth of homes and safe havens. Together we celebrate the bounty of the land. We honor you and celebrate your generous gifts."

Once more giving everyone a chance to participate, or to offer their own quiet prayers, before he bows his head once more, and steps back into place to let the next person step forth.

Thea has made her way down, dressed in long sleeves to keep the chill away from the ocean breeze. She inhales however, enjoying the smell. As the prayers are made, she bows her head, listening in silence.

Audgrim is standing in the shadow of some trees, eating an apple - though as the prayers begin, he glances around and pauses his eating and just stands quiet, waiting. He looks around at the crowd meanwhile.

Late! But not for lack of effort, at least in this last stretch. Sister Ramona comes running down from the gates, her robes flapping wildly as she tries not to trip over them. She stops on the edge of the gathering, hopefully coming to rest before anyone saw the comical display. She stands, quietly, holding her hands before her waist... and doing her best to 'quietly' pant.

Yuri stepped up a bit closer; close to the front, to the assembled group as the prayers began in earnest, arms gathered together behind his back as he bowed his head in respect to the words of the speakers.

With a nod to Felix as he stepped back, Medeia moved forward once more to introduce the last prayer leader. "To honor Mangata, we will be led in prayer by Lord Haakon Eswynd."

Pausing on her way to the gathering to bow her head in prayer, Sorrel makes her way closer to get a better look and listen, smiling comfortably at the gathering.

Bianca's eyes cracked open and it just so happened that Ramona had come to a stop not so far from her. Serendipitous! The Legate reached to take the sister's hand with ink-stained digits, giving fingers a soft squeeze and a sidelong smile before her eyes fell closed again as the prayers proceeded.

Haakon wields golden ritual trident.

In one of the handful of times in which he has appeared in finery without iron armor, Haakon steps toward the shore when summoned. The Prodigal walks over the wet sand until seawater laps at his fine boots with every incoming wave. He holds a ritual weapon in the left hand: a finely forged trident on a haft of winding driftwood. At first he doesn't speak, facing the sea and drawing a long rope of prayer beads from his belt, winding it around hand and haft, binding the trident to his grip. Only then is the trident brandished overhead, and his strong voice raised:

"Hear us, Mangata!
Goddess of Sea and Sky, Mistress of Wind and Water, Mother of Isles and Shore, hear your childer:

We give thanks for the stones in sea and soil, as pursuit of your bounty has left our hands deft.

We give thanks for your tempests, as storms leave us strong and bring us life.

We give thanks for your waters, in which we are born and to whose embrace we will one day return.

Rocks, and storms, and death defy,
Praised be Mangata, of Sea and Sky!"

With the invocation complete, Haakon turns back to the land and walks back to solemnly rejoin the festivities.

Merek walks along and into the beaches of the city, while he takes a moment to adjust his potion belt. He's wearing dark attire along with a bag of equipment, nodding a bit to people he knows, while he smiles.

Giving a bit of time for everyone's silent prayers to finish, Medeia stands ready to pass on the event to Caprice's capable hands. "Thank you, all of you, for leading us in those prayers. And thank you all for joining us! Now, I relinquish the sand to Caprice, to get the feast and contest started!"

Bianca's eyes cracked open as she murmured a soft, "So let it be." To bookend the prayers given by the trio of devout. She gave Ramona's hand one last little squeeze before releasing the child of the Faith's palm.

Ramona's eyes flash open as her hand is touched. She looks aside. Is that a Legate?! Oh Gods. Horror flashes before her eyes, like a teen caught mid-mischief. Which is basically what she is. But there's a smile, and that settles the young priestess. She returns it, and returns the hand-squeeze, then eyes close, and it's back to silent prayer. "Praised be," she says, quietly, once Haakon finishes.

Chub Chub, A fat black rat with an eyepatch arrives, delivering a message to Medeia before departing.

Medeia drops Limited Nectar of the Gods 'Mangata' Lambic - 'Ride the Rising Tides'.

Joining with the throng as they're led in prayer by Brannen, Felix and Haakon, Caprice stands in reverent silence with eyes closed and arms bent, hands lifted at shoulder height in a gesture of supplication. With a short silence observed after the last prayer to separate it from what is to come next, the Disciple of Jayus steps forward and lifts her voice to carry over the growing crowd.

"We thank you again for joining with us today as we celebrate the Good Harvest. As you enjoy this year's bounty and the good company of friends old and new, please be sure to sample the new drink submissions from around the Compact! During tomorrow's festivities, one lucky brew will be announced as the Favored of Mangata, as is tradition, and carry the honor of being featured in the shrine's consecration."

"It's also not too late to submit your best hangover cure, which we'll all be very grateful for come tomorrow morning! But for now, let us eat, drink, dance, and have some fun!"

Bianca is overheard praising Brannen: For Lagoma!

Bianca is overheard praising Felix: For Petrichor!

Bianca is overheard praising Haakon: For Mangata!

Bianca is overheard praising Faith of the pantheon.

Merek is overheard praising Brannen: Lagoma!

Merek is overheard praising Haakon: Mangata!

Merek is overheard praising Felix: Petrichor!

Merek is overheard praising Faith of the pantheon.

Merek is overheard praising Faith of the pantheon.

Caprice is overheard praising Brannen: A lovely prayer for Lagoma!

Caprice is overheard praising Felix: A lovely prayer for Petrichor!

Caprice is overheard praising Haakon: A lovely prayer for Mangata!

Caprice is overheard praising Medeia: A lovely host for Good Harvest!

Caprice is overheard praising Bianca: A lovely host for Good Harvest!

"I just drink more when I have a hangover," Merek admits, then he claps while praising the festivities. The man notices Bianca and bows that way, then sees what she's up to, while he finds a drink to pick up.

Audgrim has joined the Beneath Trees.

Yuri picked his head up from its bowed state, murmuring, "So let it be," in unison after such prayers had been offered. His hands settled along his belt as he glanced along to the collection of bottles laid out amongst the primary tables. A round of applause was offered at Caprice's words before he began to fetch a glass, or join the line to do so.

Miraj joins with the others in their prayers to Petrichor and Mangata respectfully and applause when appropriate, lifting her gaze and offering sincere, sweet smiles to those around but it looks like she's also making her way to the drinks. Praying is thirsty work, don't you know.

Bianca gave a gentle incline of her head Merek's way, though she was in process of turning to the event managers and the three prayer givers. Her voice carried soft and low. "Beautifully done, brothers and sisters. You are blessings each in your own right. Now... shall we share a drink?"

Audgrim choses to line up for some roasted pig and roasted potatoes, rather than go straight for the drinks. He gives Bianca a respectful nod, and a little wave as he walks by near her to queue up, avoiding to bump into others and rather waiting than elbowing his way through; seems he is in no rush.

"Only one?" Caprice replies to Bianca, mouth curving in an amused grin. With the event officially started and the crowds moving for whatever most tickles their fancy, she offers a quiet round of applause for those involved with the opening. "It's been my distinct pleasure to work with you all; thank you."

Haakon quietly unwinds the rope of prayer beads from around haft and hand, touching a kiss to the long string before hanging it from his belt again, and nodding once to Bianca and Caprice. His first word since concluding the prayer is a simple, "Aye."

Brannen looks up from the fire with a gentle smile, turning first to Felix and Haakon, a friendly smile and a polite nod, respectively. Another nod is given to Caprice, alongside a sincere smile, and finally his eyes meet Bianca, who just made a compliment that the young knight wrestles down effectively. The alcohol should turn the cheeks to red color, not words. "Gladly, Mother." He moves closer to the organizers of the event and those who prayed.

Leonel's tongue was held, the leadened thing sinking to the floor of his mouth as he stood in some silent vigil as words boomed from ahead. The great many of them that led the prayers, unsurprisingly, held his attention for the time after he had arrived, and the familiar faces of Caprice and Bianca found a smile soon arranged upon his face -- dimples and all. Tyche didn't go ignored even as their words rang in his ears, a covering of his hand coming to eclipse her own hooked 'round his other arm and he intoned gently as the formal service drew to a close. "You've my word that I'll practice restraint.." It wasn't entirely a promise that he knew he could keep, evidenced by how sheepish his grin had become after a beat, "I'll /try/. Well now -- decisions." A cursory scan of their options had Leonel's head whipping one way or another, before his eyes were landing on the redhead. "You pick. If it does in me, you'll be the one carrying me. I'll at least feel absolved of /some/ of the guilt in that case."

Now that she is no longer having to speak to the whole crowd, Medeia slips over to Haakon's side to speak quietly with him as the festivities begin in earnest.

(OOC)The scene set/room mood is now set to: It's one of those idyllic autumn days where the sky is bright and perfectly puffy white clouds dot the sky. Though it is not warm, it is comfortable enough even with the chill wind blowing along the shore. Away from the water's edge, tables have been arranged - some laden with food and drink, others set with chairs for the Faithful to feast. In the sand, a few fire pits have been dug, spits erected over them, giving off the scents of roasting pig, pheasant, and assorted fish. Godsworn and disciples move around the area ensuring platters of baked squash, boiled corn on the cob, roasted potatoes, apple pies, and more are plentiful. Past the food, all manner of drinks have been gathered for the judging. Activities have been set up for the enjoyment of all ages, like an apple bobbing barrel, a pumpkin carving station, games of skill involving throwing a corn cob into a target, and bards perform songs to dance to.

"Well, quite a few, I suppose." Bianca's smile perked a bit broader at Caprice's question, giving the barest hint of pearly white teeth but just enough that the expression shift seemed to light up the canvas of her features. A small nod went Audgrim's way as she spotted his acknowledgment, turning anew to those near the bonfire on the shore. "What shall we start with? Lord Haakon, why don't you pick the first round?" Leonel and Tyche each got their own small smile and nod though predominantly her attention was on the group she lingered near... granted, Ramona got dragged right into that group with a beckon of the Legate's hand.


Food! Drinks! So many drinks. But also music! Members of the Bard's College drift amongst the gathered, solitary instruments playing merry tunes for those too distant from the larger cluster of musicians playing for those who care to dance in designated areas.


Heading straight for the drinks, off goes Thea. There's a nod of course to the people she knows. And there's a lot. Dodging a few more people, she grabs a plate and starts to fill it with fish and other assortments.

Miraj takes a tall flute of literally anything and spying a tall, dark, mysterious stranger in the form of Audgrim, she floats on by and murmurs something on the way past. She pauses and places one hand on her hip and sips with the other, leaving the shawl to hang round her shoulders left to its own devices for now.

Ramona wipes her brow with a sleeve, glistening despite the cool of autumn. It was a long run! In big robes. Now all she has to do is-... Slap on a smile and head over toward Bianca. Really, she looks like a kid at the adult table, but she just keeps on smiling. That'll make it all better, right? "Mother," she says, finally greeting the woman. Then, to the others, "Hello everyone. The Pantheon's blessings to all of you."

Audgrim looks surprised, glimpsed from under his cowl as he looks up and at Miraj. There's a quick amused grin, and a murmur back to her even as he's shuffled forward in the food queue and about to soon reach his goal of a meal.

Haakon looks over the varied bottles when Bianca offers him the choice of whoch bottle to begin with. "....This one," he decides aloud, touching the Saffron Siren offering. It was the nearest one.

Maharet's smile, full and bright, alights to see that the festivities on the beach are in full-swing. The precious Whisper is dressed in silver and aquamarine - making each movement of the courtier one that gleams and glimmers. She wears the lightest of cloaks against the brisk weather, seeking a goblet of some bold red before she steps off to mingle. "This is all entirely too lovely."

Tyche, likewise, practices a respectful quiet as the prayers circulate, each one guiding the sacred words earning a smile from the petite redhead as she stands with her escort. When all is said and done, she leans in to hear his promise of restraint, and she clicks her tongue thoughtfully. "I'm not certain I like such promises from you. I'm already regretting my warning. I take it back. Indulge, drink your weight in alcohol, and I will make certain you find your way home with a minimal amount of damage. That's /my/ promise." When he's urging her to choose their first round, she arches a brow in wicked amusement. "I'll take the blame, too, for your destruction. In this and in all things. Gladly." A few quieter words are shared, and she looks to catch Bianca's smile. A hand lifts, fingers wiggling, and she moves to the array of beverages. "How about this one?" She chooses a bottle, nodding to whomever might be serving the citrusy lambic. Two glasses are retrieved, and she extends one to Leonel. "To our health and happiness," she offers a toast.

Yuri continued to hover along at the table of bottles, looking rather indecisive before taking up a small glass of the golden rum, mingling about though he looked more content to keep to himself as he paid his respects.

Braxas checks charm and performance at normal. Braxas is marginally successful.

Who knows if he'll see it, but Caprice does raise a hand in distant greeting for Leonel and Tyche, a smile sent back along with the gesture before she's turning back to those closest to her. "Hm! Pretty. So how do you test these things fairly, anyway? I'd assume once you're half a dozen samples in, -everything- is perfect."


"I will certainly not protest." Felix returns the nod to Brannen, before stepping down and moving to join the small gathering with Bianca. A few waves given to those who greet him, a grin offered to one or two, before he comes to a stop, waiting to see. And when the bottle is taken - moves in offer to pour for those who are partaking. At least for this first round.

Miraj follows Audgrim, still murmuring quietly between sips of booze, ever so casually.

Grim, the green eyed fluffy black cat have been dismissed.

Bianca's silvered gaze slipped again to Ramona as she joined them more fully. "I do not believe you and I have been properly acquainted. Mother Bianca, Ward of the Faith; Legate of Creation." In typical Oathlander fashion she listed off the titles. To Caprice she turned, "I have a fairly high tolerance, generally it is Blessed Madeleine who does the judging, but given she's begun a shrine tour this year I will be. I plan to try as many as I can until my mind begins to slip and then the rest tomorrow morning. Ideally I'll be able to make it through half." She chuckled and then nodded to Haakon's selection. "Which one is this?"

Bianca added, "That said, I am definitely open to opinions."

Audgrim gets his food and steps away from the queue, still having a quiet conversation with Miraj - he lingers there and seem happy to munch hungrily on his meal while chit-chatting with the Whisper. He scans around as if looking for someone.

"No, Mother," Ramona says, with a sunny smile. She's bubbly, despite the fluster. "Sister Ramona Malespero, Scholar," she says, offering up her own titles, limited though they are. "I've only been in Arx a few months. I've just arrived from the seminaries at Sanctum, having completed my vows," she explains. She looks around again. "Brother Felix," she greets. "So, we... are here to drink?" she asks.

Maharet has joined the Wooden Picnic Table.

"Were it up to me," so probably thankfully, it isn't, "I'd sample them all but choose the winner out of a hat. Or maybe pour a little bit of everything into a single bottle," Caprice amends, awaiting the pour of a first round while looking out over the gathering with a growing smile. "...So they could all share in the honor of being Most Favored. But, I suppose a contest isn't nearly as fun if you take out the potential for gloating. A good gloat is important, every now and again."

Yuri soon after found himself exactly where it would be expected; the food table. He held a plate aloft in his hands, settling his glass down so that he either may help himself to some of the fixings or wait to be served if there were other members of the Faith doing such. He did not wish to step on toes. A scan of the grounds had the lord spy Marquessa Tyche and Prince Leonel, waving to them in acknowledgment.

Oops! Minor incident over at the apple bobbing. Someone's taken in a little too much water while going after a floating piece of fruit. But some thumps to the back and he's fine. And a few (bawdy) tips wiser on how to hold his breath!

Miraj suddenly downs the rest of the drink with a little raise of her brows and flags someone down for the next.

"You studied in Sanctum?" Bianca asked Ramona, perhaps a touch impressed. "The seminary tutelage there is very stringent. How are you finding your time here in Arx?" To Caprice, "Actually, that is a good idea. Selecting at random and with that having Mangata decide for herself which she would prefer." She chuckled. "Personally, I would prefer to choose them all. The work put into custom vintner brews is astounding, but tradition is tradition. The select libation is also afforded the prestige of 'Mangata's Chosen Libation' and in some cases has completely changed the lives of the vintners and brewmasters who have won previous contests by the prestige of that alone."

"Ah, good." A wash of relief came over him, and Leonel breathed an easy and audible sigh that was curtailed by the onset of some mild hysterics. The man's broad shoulders were restlessly bouncing alongside the dull roar of laughter, with words then, in turn, interjecting even that noise. "How liberating, being blameless. Having no responsibility for what occurs today, mhn.." The noise stuck in his throat as Tyche made her choice and his fingers circled 'round the rim of the glass. A sudden thought seemingly intruded and occupyied him, but it was cast off after a quick lowering of his eyes, and an even faster shake of his head. "Health, happiness? I would think you choose /success/ before any of that. Or is that included? It must be." A subtle twitchy curl at one edge of his mouth, and Leonel's crown was inclining in the woman's direction before his sip. It stayed that way -- lowered -- in an attempt to lend the ear to her for whatever murmur would follow, and there was a singular tap of a digit that struck a trimmed nail upon his glass before he discreetly sent words her way in return.

Audgrim's expression turns quite dead pan and he's pausing with his fork in midair, glancing sideways at Miraj at something she said.

Brannen shrugs. "I suggest we just start. There are so many days to think about difficult situations. Today should not be such a day." He brings a few glasses and sets them onto a table close to their small congregation for Haakon and Felix to fill. He nods towards Ramona, "a pleasure to meet you, Sister Ramona. I am Sir Brannen Harthall."

Medeia waited until Haakon had named the drink for Bianca and then quietly led him to stand by the altar to Mangata. After a brief exchange of words, they return to the gathering. "Ah, Sister Ramona. I haven't seen you since... Well, it has been a while. Hello again!"

Keski, a nervous disciple of Petrichor, Aletta, an even more nervous disciple of Petrichor, 1 Templar Knight guards, Oswald, the war pig, a lively Ostrian gelding, Daisy, the overly enthusiastic Keaton pygmy goat arrive, following Brigida.

Ramona opts to hold off on a drink selection until she has someone else's lead to follow. Drinking, it would seem, was not what she specialized in at seminary. "My mother is noble," Ramona explains, to Bianca. "She had some... friends?... that helped ensure my enrollment. I am very blessed," she says, with all sincerity. Then her gaze shifts to Brannen. "Sir Brannen," she says, with a dip of her head. "A pleasure." Then over to Medeia. "Oh, yes... Lady, um... I'm so sorry. Was it Medeia?"

Maharet has left the Wooden Picnic Table.

Haakon returns rather less solemn than he'd been, before. If one were to squint and look hard enough, they *might* think he was nearly smiling. "So be it, then.. drinks abound. A word of warning, to all: I don't oft care for rum." He begins pouring for the assembled, including himself despite the disclaimer.

"I look forward to what you are to do without blame," Tyche feeds the fire of Leonel's amusement, her lips flickering in her own as she holds her glass aloft. "And success for me is guaranteed. I do not need to drink to that," she points out, the flickering turning into a full-fledged grin as she tilts her head to look up at him. She takes a slow sip of the drink, her eyes widening a bit at the first taste. She mrmphs, looking down into the magical mixture in her glass. "This is delicious," she gives her very easy praise of the concoction, taking another sip as she listens to the whispered return. Whatever is spoken has her nodding, chin dipping and rising several times. "I am certain," she answers, not bothering to drop her voice. "Success is guaranteed, remember?" And then she spies Yuri, and her smile blossoms, "Lord Yuri!" she calls to him. "You must try this!" she holds up her glass to him, almost as if she might offer him the very chalice she grasps, but then she thinks better of it. "Only, get your own, just there," she indicates for him. "And thank you for the care package," she adds, dipping her head to Leo to explain, "He sent the tomato sauce along. I have your jar held hostage until you prove to me you deserve it."

Finishing his meal with the efficiency of a soldier, Audgrim puts the plate on top of the rest of the empty ones, still standing with Miraj there. Now he gets a drink too, and grabs one for Miraj while he's at it.

"Yes, Medeia Eswynd," The Harlequin says to Ramona's question. "Though, was I Saik then? Has it been that long?" She smiles brightly with a small shrug. "Either way! You remembered well." As the drinks are poured, she turns her attention to scanning the crowd, lifting her hand to wave to Tyche and Yuri when she spots them.

Bianca reached to take one of the poured glasses, dipping a gracious nod to Haakon. "Tasting aside, it is nice to stand shoulder to shoulder with so many children of the Faith. Since the attack on the Cathedral I've found it difficult to participate in such open and focused gatherings outside of the shrines themselves." Her attention turned more fully to Medeia and Caprice. "Thank you for ensuring this festival came to pass. I raise my glass to both of you." And her hand lifted with the drink in emphasis before taking a small and testing sip.

An odd little band wanders onto the beach lead by a tiny prancing goat. Blessed Brigida makes her way down the sands with her disciples and animals around her. She moves slowly and carefully, huffing and chuntering about the fact this is happening on the beach rather than the Shrine. "I did *not* get the message saying it would be here! I did get a chewed up piece of paper because someone let Daisy eat whatever she likes." She hmmphs as she continues to make her way along.

Yuri canted his head over before taking up his glass and small plate of sample food, chuckling at Tyche's insistence before he did meander over, "I have quite enough here! Just plenty. Oh, you did! Good, good. I thought there was a good distribution in the bag. Should also be enough for his Highness over yonder." He gestured along with his chin very quickly. Eyes scanned along before he met Medeia's with a smile and bow of his head, attentions returning along to Tyche and Leonel if he was near.

Ramona nods to Medeia. "Yes, yes, that's right! Saik. I reflected upon the fine warriors of the Saikland," she recalls. "And, Eswynd? I'm... not familiar. Have you wed?" she asks, her brows lifting. "Congratulations!"

Miraj happily accepts the cider from Audgrim, seemingly nodding at something he's said.

"Blessed Brigida." Bianca's smile warmed for the chosen of Petrichor. "I am glad you found the way despite a goat debacle."

"I /should/ t ake this opportunity to appear wise and offer something regarding the peril of one's hubris but," Another generous sip from his drink interrupted all of that verbally, though it did still continue, just with the pointed severity of Leonel's stare down upon her from over the rim of his glass. ".. but we'll have plenty of time for that later. I look forward to bashing my skull against that wall." The taste of the liquor agreed with him as well, as his supply was quickly diminishing right before the Marquessa's eyes and Leonel was in the midst of searching out for a replacement when her call to Yuri registered. "Back already are you, Lord Yuri? The trip went well, then?" He never got that second helping, instead pivoting on a heel to better face the man -- or search out his face in the crowd, at least. "Welcome home." Heartfelt and genuine, his smile was easy as could be, and reflected in the hazel of his eyes. "You'd better come and have your fill before I've mine, Lord Yuri. I aim to make a dent and then some in... whatever this is." The small puddle was sloshed about, crashing against the insides of his glass with one wobbling of his wrist and hand after another. "I'll save the sauce for another evening. I don't think I'm going to be overly

As Brigida enters the beach and is heard talking about Daisy, Brannen -- coincidentally -- takes a glass of either Felix's or Haakon's preference, and starts drinking.

- hungry tonight, but I thank you all the same, hn? Very kind of you to grant my request." Ahem.

Anne, a dangerously alluring Seraceni first mate, Owen, a meticulous Seraceni scholar, 4 Seraceni pirates, 2 Seraceni cutthroats arrive, following Dio.

Medeia dips her chin to Bianca, "It was my pleasure to be able to take part in this, and to have the Days of Libation yet to come, as well. I am holding the memory of my uncle close, as we honor the gods and gather openly." Turning back to Ramona, she smiles again. "Yes, some three months past, now." A gentle tap of Haakon's arm to indicate him precedes her next words, "My husband, Lord Haakon Eswynd, of House Eswynd in the Mourning Isles."

Yuri glanced over to Leonel with a smile, nodding his head, "The trip was well and solemn. I tied up the affairs at the estate, had a day or so to take what I can or what was offered to me before plotting an early morning home. I was able to settle in back to the city some time...the early afternoon yesterday, I believe. It was all a real blur." The lord patted at the prince's shoulder a moment, taking in a chuckle before sipping along at the golden rum. He peered into Leonel's glass with a look of concern, "You do not know what you drink? It must have been just handed to you without care; come, settle that down with some roasted potatoes and ham." Yuri offered up his plate to Leonel at that.

"You should," Tyche agrees, but then quickly on the heels of those words she adds, "But I'm so glad you didn't. More fun to be unwise tonight, I think." And she downs her drink, tilting the cup up up up until the last drop of citrusy goodness has vanished down her throat. She offers her glass to him. "Your pick this time," she instructs, but she seems content to put off the second drink in favor of speaking with the Tessere lord. And his plate of food. She arches to her balls of her feet, craning to peek what is on the plate. "So very autumnal a dish," she muses with a laugh. "I'm glad your trip was what you needed it to be, Yuri," she drops the title in the close intimacy of their conversation that can be overheard by any drunken reveler wandering by. "A step toward healing." She smiles, and in that moment catches sight of Medeia's wave, lifting her own in a merry greeting.

As with any other time Orazio was even barely mentioned, Bianca took a moment to bow her head and murmur a prayer to the Queen in his name. She took another testing sip of the rum, letting it rest on her tongue before passing the remainder of her glass off to another priest within the crowd with a soft smile. She had quite a few more to taste after all and here's to hoping imbibing so much wouldn't send her head over heels into the waves. Guess we'll see!

"I'm honored to serve the Faith," is Caprice's contribution, and while her words are indeed sincere, her attention is drifting - distracted by something off in a nearby crowd. "Ah- but please excuse me?" she murmurs to the group, retreating a fair distance before she directs her voice loud and clear towards whoever she's set her eyes on.

"YOU!" she points with an open hand. "I see your feet tapping! Go on- get in there! Dance! Oh- here, I'll join you."

Caprice checks charm and performance at easy. Caprice is marginally successful.

And join Caprice does! If not particularly well. Strong stuff, those submitted drinks.

Brigida gives Bianca a wave and sends her Templar and Disciples scurrying off to keep an eye on the animals that begin wandering. "A decent turnout here. Very nice. I would have been here sooner but ended up waiting at the Shrine and wondered where everyone was."

Dio, flanked by Anne, Owen, and a group of piratical looking Seraceni sailors along with a dozen or so children walk across the sand to join the feast. The sailors seem merry, and by her steps, one could fairly judge Anne to have already partaken in libations. The children openly shout with glee when they see the roasting food and Bianca dressed in her black, white and gold robes. While Anne and the pirates make for the available alcohol, Dio and Owen take the crew of children to get food from the spits. "Take your time, Mate," says Dio to one of the eagerest of the little ones. "Plenty to go around."

There was a subtle glance over to Medeia, to see if Yuri's beckon would be seen but his hand fell away when he saw she was treating with more esteemed Faith members. An errant glance settled over to Bianca with a smile, giving her a reverent nod before attentions turned back to his two friends, "Most definitely. Thank you, Marquessa." He glanced along to the seasonal plate with an appreciative eye, "A pretty warm and inviting sort of dish, no? It makes one feel warm and cozy, all the same. To which I could stand to be near a fireplace for a good while after such a meal."

Ramona turns her gaze to Haakon, and she shows a sunny smile. "Lord Haakon Eswynd, a pleasure to meet you," she says. Then a delicate gesture to herself. "Sister Ramona." She then turns her gaze to the drinks. "So... are... any of these sweet wines?" she asks, curiously.

Haakon inclines his head and shoulders to Ramona without dropping eye contact. "Sister," he rumbles in greeting, adding in deadpan jest to the Malespero, "You can congratulate me. I've heard condolances are more apt to Medeia."

Upon seeing Brigida approaching, Brannen nods at her and humbly lowers his head. "I am glad you made it in time, Blessed Brigida. May I offer you a glass? Or maybe I can get you something to eat?" he offers. It seems earnest enough.

With a glass of something in her hand, Sorrel heads over in Bianca's direction, offering a polite little bow to the Legate. "Cousin," she greets her warmly. "You seem to have quite the harvest festival here. It's very delightful. What a feast."

Audgrim snorts amusedly at something, and raises his glass in a little toast to whatever.

"Well, I am glad you made it." Bianca offered to Brigida, dipping her head in a more proper greeting. And then there were children nearby. Bianca's great weakness, kiddos! That turn of attention led pale gaze Yuri's way and she lifted her hand to greet the man in the distance along with an expression that held an unspoken promise of a later approach in the shift of its questioning flutter. "If you will all please excuse me a moment." She spoke toward the gathered disciples, priests and general Faith hierarchy before she moved to intercept the pack of children traveling with Dio toward the feast tables.

Bianca dropped to a kneel in the sand once she was close enough to assess the eldest height, and using Sorrel's arm to do so as she had the PERFECT timing. "Cousin! I am glad you could make it. What a feast indeed." Her smile turned toward the gaggle again, "Now, what are all of your names?" She held ink-stained hand to her chest. "I am Mother Bianca and this is Princess Sorrel." That small smile then lifted to Dio with a following bow of her head in greeting.

"Roast potatoes and ham." Echoing Yuri's suggestion, Leonel's eyes came to fall upon the aforementioned dish, and wherever there was a fork, he abandoned his drink to take that up instead. "Think very carefully before you ask me to do this, Yuri. I've been given permission to cast away any and all responsibility. I'm liable to /ravage/ your plate beyond recognition." Comically slowly the tines of the fork descend, inching ever closer to the fate of skewered meats and starches upon the end of it. Leonel held onto a small but merry, and crooked smile all throughout as he listened. "When you've had the time to relax and readjust, then I'd like to hear about what transpired in the visit. How ... things.. went, and all." An arch of his brow then, and a lidded stare in upon Yuri, and he had forgotten all about the meal for the moment. "Don't rush things, though. I'll be here when you're willing to speak of them, hn? Until then.." Divorcing his arm from Tyche's own, Leonel's fingers were searching out for another glass -- something golden. "Rum? Rum. Here, Yuri. Tell us what you think."

Audgrim has left the Beneath Trees.

Dodger, a brown rat leaves, following Audgrim.

Miraj lifts her glass to Audgrim as he makes his way out and nurses her drink while looking about and surveying the festivities for a bit.

Medeia lifts her hand to wave to Dio, makes a 'one moment' gesture to Yuri, and then shakes her head up at Haakon with an amused smile. "Any who offer me condolences do not know me well." A flciker of thought goes across her face. "Oh!" She makes sure she has Haakon's attention before continuing, "I don't know what just made me remember it, but did I tell you Marquessa Lianne decided on a new name for the ship? We'll need to send for it so I can finish coordinating with Venturo."

Yuri glanced to Leonel with a rather concerned look, "If I had known you had such an infatuation for roast potatoes and glazed ham, I would have ensured you received daily care packages. Maybe even call upon an arranged marriage to her royal Hogness. Then you can ravage whatever ham you deem worthy, hm?" He held the plate steady for the prince to make his pointed claim on the...well, whatever was left on the plate. He met Leonel's gaze a bit longer, giving a firm nod, "Mm. Later, perhaps. You have, maybe, never been to Iriscal, so I can also regale you with how it has changed since the summer." A glance was offered to Miraj as she made her way from her reverie with Audgrim, offering a polite smile and nod before rum was shoved in his face. "W-what? I've already had thi--more? Fine." The lord took up another glass, swirling it about gently within before taking it to his lips with gusto, "Taste as nice twice."

"So you're saying you won't be dashing naked into the cold waves by the end of this night, Lord Yuri?" Tyche challenges his fireplace imagery with the more present reality of the chilly ocean water and the copious amount of liquor being passed around. She watches as Leonel abandons the last shreds of responsibility in his attacking of Yuri's plate, and she leans in to the Tessere to offer, "If he causes too much damage tonight in his freedom, send me the bill. I'll pay it now, and make sure that he pays me back in some way later." The wickedness in her gaze is there and gone again as the rum is produced, and she helps herself to some of the golden liquor, bringing it to her lips for that initial taste. The sound she emits is one of full, unabandoned pleasure. "Oh no," she mock-frets after a moment. "This one is delicious, as well. I'm afraid I won't be able to pick a favorite at this rate." She looks back to the array of bottles, calculating how many they must drink. A thought strikes, something remembered, and she looks back to Yuri, "We'll do a masque, too. Hosted at the Inverno estate this time."

Brigida hmmms as she stares at Brannen. "Sir Brannen. I will have a small amount of each drink on offer at the moment. Find a tray to bring it over hmmm? Thank you."

Looks of thrill and awe pass over the faces of the children when Bianca comes to them. Variations of "Hello, Legate!" fills the air around the spit. Dio smiles warmly at Bianca, still kneeling, and helping the little ones get food. He bows his head in a show of deep respect. The Seraceni children all speak their names at once to Bianca: Gillio, Antonia, Victoria, Paolo, Sebastian, Tessio and others. Dio laughs softly, while one of the little ones, Antonia, says to Sorrel with glittering black eyes, "Do you really sing, Pwincess Sorrel?"

"Can we touch your robes?" another child asks Bianca, reaching toward her before she gives an answer. Dio rises to his feet, and waves to Medeia. "Be on your best behavior, Mates," he says to the children. "We're here to have fun, and to give thanks."

"Mmm," Haakon voices to Medeia with a shake of his head to the negative when she asks if he'd heard of the new name. "Ought be done afore long, then. Good." For all his long winded speech when offering prayer, the Prodigal certainly doesn't waste words in conversation.

Sorrel checks charm and performance at easy. Sorrel is successful.

Miraj catches Yuri's glance as she's passing by and offers him and his congregation a sincere smile. "I was just commenting that the yams were likely to be my ravage of choice. As soon as I've sampled all the drinks, of course. Must ensure I have room for all of them!" To Tyche, she dips her head, "Nice to see you out and about Marquessa-Suspire." Then a dip of her head to Leonel, politely, as a passing server has one of his drinks on offer snagged and replaced with the empty one from her other hand.

Sorrel has a warm smile for the children as she helps Bianca kneel, careful of the Legate. And then one of the girls asks her if she sings, and she nods. "I am the Bladesong; singing is what I do," she says with a smile. And then unprompted, she lifts her voice in a simple song to Petrichor: "Green are the fields, the crops planted in loam; Sweet is the honey from each honeycomb; Lovely the land is where'er one should roam; Warm is the hearth of every dear home." She has a sweet soprano voice, clear and pleasant, and it rings out over the gathering joyfully.

Bianca recited the childrens' names, pointing to each as she stated their appropriate name. Thank the Gods for a good memory and the ability to parse through a sudden influx of information. It seemed she managed to get to each of the large gathering of little ones. A small smile shifted up and aside to Sorrel as she was questioned and then proceeded to give example of her talents then as the little one reached for her robes she nodded. "A master tailor by the name of Caprice Artiglio made these for me. Aren't they beautiful?" She then gestured through the crowds toward Caprice. "That's her right over there."

Brannen nods obediently and gives her a faint smile. He moves off to fetch a tray to carefully place several glasses into which several liquids are poured carefully. He fills them not too sparingly and finally adds a small plate with a small amount of several dishes. The tray is brought back to the others and he places it down on the table next to Brigida so she can help herself as she wishes.

Caprice checks charm and performance at normal. Caprice is marginally successful.

Merek listens to Bianca and watches the talk, then he notices Brannen and nods that way. He seems distracted by drinking while he just contently seems to consider everyone he knows, and a quiet bit of peace for a while.

Yep, there's Caprice, the master tailor, doing a very fine impression of a strutting rooster at the head of a line filled with (increasingly inebriated) revelers.

Leonel's own sample of the rum came with difficulties, as it coincided with Tyche's suggestion for how Yuri might spend the remainder of the afternoon. There was an splutter and a low, throaty cough of laughter into his cup, though mercifully he didn't make /too/ much of a mess of himself. "An image I could have done without -- or maybe one that I've needed all this time. Hard to decide, really." He was all smiles, merry and mirthful, and with a faint smack of his lips and a swirl of his tongue behind them, there came an appreciative "Mhn" .. of noise. "More to my taste, I think. I'll have twelve. Eventually." A swift peer over his shoulder sought to confirm whether or not there'd even be enough for his lofty goal, and then he was quickly turning his sights back to the pair ahead. "Never visited, no, but you're gifted with words, Yuri. You'll paint the scene well enough for me that it'll feel like home for me as well, I suspect." Miraj's presence was noted, and Leonel's eyes widened some, a vivid display of surprise creeping in as her face registered. "Miraj." He uttered the name with much enthusiasm, gesturing her in closer, if she hadn't meandered that way herself yet. "It's been a good while. You're keeping well, I hope? What have you been occupying yourself with?"

The children exchange wide-eyed glances when they hear Sorrel's song, and, at its conclusion, there is clapping and cheering. Dio's face betrays his will, and a smile touches his features while the Princess of Maelstrom sings, though he quickly turns and says to Owen, "Find me some rum, eh? Or wine?"

"Certainly, My Lord," replies the gray-haired scholar. The children near Bianca, simultaneously awed and comforted by the warmth and charisma of a legate who remembers their names, touch her robes, and wonder plays across their faces. They follow her gesture to look toward Caprice, and a few offer waves their hands, before the food again captures their attention.

Ramona finds her wine. Sweet! And after pouring a glass she drifts away from the most of the people, running away so she might just stand there and observe. That is, after all, the inclination of a scholar.

Ramona has joined the Beneath Trees.

"Go get food, my dears," Sorrel offers to the children when they are done fawning over the legate, and she looks rather content now, like she's comfortable now. "There's so much to eat, we wouldn't want it to go to waste."

Yuri peered off to Miraj thoughtfully, nodding his head, "I love how they are prepared, truthfully. This may be my second or third time having them in such a way. And, candidly, they may be my favorite as opposed to an ordinary potato." On remarking on such potatoes, Yuri made off to reclaim a small helping before he could be referred to again, settling a good portion in a small plate before he returned quickly. Leonel was speaking to him on the return and he chuckled, "I will certainly try to do it justice. Though, I would like to go back under a bit more pleasant circumstances." He paused to take another hearty sip of the rum, wincing and inhaling at that rich bite that came along with the sip. "Mm, that's something. Compliments the meal, for sure."

Medeia nods to Haakon and excuses herself, greeting Dio properly. "Marquis, so good to see you. Who... Are all these delightful children?" She leans in close to whisper something to him, pulling back with a wink and a playful smile.

Leonel's barely-held-together drinking earns a humorous tilt of Tyche's head, watching him to make sure he doesn't choke on his laughter and rum. "Maybe the image will be made a reality for you soon?" she encourages his dilemma on with a hopeful look to Yuri, because he holds the keys to making this fantasy come true. With the assessment of the rum given, she looks back to the bottles again. "I wonder if we'll be able to order bottles of these once the night is through? If we end up remembering which bottles we liked, that is," her brow knits, but that isn't a problem she dwells long on, because Miraj is there. "Miraj," her smile is quick and she's nodding with Leonel's invitation for the woman to join their little circle. "It has been too long, indeed. And now seeing you I remember a note I had tucked away with the intention of responding to, and horribly did not. I hope you are well? Enjoying the drink?"

Ralph the wrecking messenger goat leaves, following Felix.

"Very well. Business as usual, really - mostly hair type things and painting. Lots of painting. I'm quite tired of looking at fruit to be honest. How have you been your highness?" Miraj offers with a sincere smile, joining them properly once invited. "It's quite alright Marquessa. Things are very busy these days. At your leisure of course! I'm just happy to see you're out and about. How about you? Are you well?" Lifting her glass by the stem she eyeballs it, "I had the Lambic first, it was excellent, there was a cider just now - it was alright. This.. Rum?" She takes a tentative taste, mulling it over. "Definitely rum. Tastes very much like my hangover tomorrow morning," she laughs and nods to Yuri, "I'm Miraj Roumier, by the by."

Brannen nods towards Merek who seems to have joined the group, and invitingly gestures towards a set of glasses -- but not the ones prepared for Brigida! -- to choose a glass of his liking from. He also takes one of these, smelling the glass and indulging in its aroma before enjoying its flavour. He is rather silent, and listens to the others with a content smile.

"Gods no," replies Dio to Medeia laughingly. "They're kin to Seraceni servants and sailors. I figured they'd enjoy the feast, though I didn't realize they'd have pigs and pheasants roasting. They'll be spoiled and insufferable now, but I regret nothing." Few could perhaps, after seeing the unmixed joy of children in such a setting. Owen returns with a glass of rum, which Dio gladly accepts. "My Lady, always a pleasure," he says to Medeia, bowing in his slow, reverent manner. "Shall I shower you with compliments on organizing another fine event, My Lady?" Dio asks Medeia, "or are they due another?"

"Oh, no, I do not think so, Marquessa. I have far too much resolve for that, in public. Privately? Mm...I could be coerced." Yuri chuckled audibly, shaking his head. Which then turned to a deadpan as he glanced to Tyche, "What? Oh, no, do not do that on my account. That would be far too apologetic on your behalf to me. I would have to undoubtedly owe you in the end. And I can't have that." His eyes widened at Tyche, mid-sip, "Oh, are you? Really? Well, fantastic. So we are, undoubtedly, going to need to hold the next one, are we?" He glanced away from Tyche as she called along to Miraj. He was soon addressed and the lord settled a glance to Miraj with a cordial bow, "A pleasure, Signora Roumier. Lord Yuri Tessere." A hand settled to his doublet as he spoke his name.

"Ah, I could not have done this on my own, Marquis Dio," Medeia says, nodding to his explanation of the children and smiling for his compliments. "I had the very capable hands of Mistress Caprice on my side and, of course, the prayer leaders, and Mother Bianca. It was a team effort and I was simply glad to be a part of it."