Lou waves at Esoka, Aiden and Silas as the enter the Great Hall. She even smiles at them. However, she is otherwise uncomfortable at such a large gathering. She whispers to one of the servants who might be in the room, they bob their head, go to the table, get some whiskey, and bring it back to her. She seems quite relieved to have some lubricating liquor and takes a sip of the dram, closing her eyes a moment to savor the flavor. Woods, animals, and outdoors - she can totally do. Indoors, with lots of people, takes a bit of something extra to get her through it. She lets out a breath, opens her eyes, and settles the glass upon her knee, carefully cupped by a hand for ready disbursement as needed. Upon seeing Alaric, though, she does rise and bow in his general direction - as she's dressed in pants and leathers and well, curtseying is out of the question. Once that takes place, she settles back into her thoughtful thinking with glass on her knee position.

"I don't want to get in the way of actual fundraising efforts. While I would never hesitate to commit my personal vessel in an actual war effort, it's not officially under Kennex command, or was not. Which is why I am not asking the Marquis to aid me with replacing the Serenity's Kiss." Wash explains, he's thought this through very carefully. When the King arrives though, he finds his sense of ceremony and pushes himself to his feet to salute the monarch's entrance with a bow.

Reese seems aware of Shard's presence and she is given a polite nod of greeting. She then turns to Corban, greeting the Telmar Lord as well. At the mention her name, she turns to Calarian, nodding in response even as a subtle smile blooms. "That is true, we very much want to lend our support and have high hopes for this fundraiser." She says, trying to lift voice and shake off this exhaustion. She looks over to Esoka next. "That would be appreciated. I can always meet with them later too, if needed." She offers. She then notices the king's arrival. Reese looks all flattered. "Your majesty, thank you for coming." She says.

    Merek watches as the meetings gets about underway, and then settles in a bit at his seat. He notices the King and takes a brief moment to incline in his direction with respect.

"Princess," Rymarr answers back to Reese with a shallow bow of his head. He continues after his head lifts again, "you don't look your usual sunny self." The remark is made in his usual stern and dry tone. A moment later he adds, "Get well soon." He steps away with an upraised hand and a quiet apology in order to retrieve a sealed note. He busies himself for a moment with reading, tucked away from the groups of Graysons, vassals, and friends of the fealty. Even Esoka doesn't appear to be immune with Rymarr seeking solace for a moment. He does however have the good sense to greet the knight as she steps away, "Dame Esoka. Chipper as always." Then he steps away and turns his attention to the delivered message.

white-tailed eagle, other white-tailed eagle arrive, following Mia.

Silas arrives, -not- in armor for once, but in the white silk tunic and pants he now dons when resting at home or going out to some social function. Which this was, almost! The Baron of Whitehawk may be taking it easy, for one reason or another. Aiden is by his side, likely similarly dressed, and they are arm-in-arm. Lou's wave is caught in the corner of his eye and he pauses in his approach to smile and wave in her direction, before they arrive at the table and he pulls out a chair for the prince in his company.

Corban has joined the Couch of Majestic Gryphons.

Silas has joined the Great Table.

Aiden has joined the Great Table.

Reese smiles over to those gathered here. "We will formally start the meeting now. There is a huge amount of stuff to go over, so I am going to try and power through some things quickly. I apologize for that and welcome anyone to find me later for more details. I planned this as a more general meeting, but since this we had developments that will require action. The first point I want to go over really quickly, is training. If anyone needs any military training of any sort, please let me know and I can try to match you with a teacher. Also if anyone is willing to be at teacher, letting me know would be great."

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

Raphael has joined the Great Table.

Wash has joined the Plush Couch.

Alaric acknowledges the various bows and gestures of deference with a regal wave but since Reese is beginning the meeting he takes a seat rather than disrupt the meeting by going around saying hello to everybody personally. It's a little obvious that he wants to, but he's being good.

Aiden looks reluctant at such a large crowd, practically squeezing the arm off Silas as he notices the crowd gathered. He murmurs to Silas, "I suppose this is a sit and listen type of meeting..." he worries his lips together as he strides along with Silas, taking the offered chair when it's pulled out for him.

Alaric has joined the Plush Couch.

Shard returns Reese's nod with a single, faint lift of her chin. Her eyes sweep the hall's occupants, pausing a little longer on King Alaric than the others, and then she moves to take a seat.

Merek does not speak for the time being, but he does take notes as he dips a metal writing pen into an ink well, and starts to take notes as he does. He notices Aiden, and offers a small incline of his head that way, with a sad smile, then his gaze is back to Reese.

Calarian turns to Alaric when he arrives and bends himself into a bow for the monarch of Arx -- it is a gesture given from afar by the First Observer, but one that seems to come with enough practice, despite his position. "King Alaric," he greets him with a smile, same smile extended to Reese when she confirms his words. Ian and Wash net a wider smile. Despite him not being the most avid of the drinkers, he does seem to be in his natural territory amidst these social meetings, with that calm poise of his and that elegant stride which carries him across the hall. He decides to sit next to Alaric.

Calarian has joined the Plush Couch.

Shard has joined the Great Table.

Merek has joined the Emerald Couch.

Ian has joined the Plush Couch.

Silas grins up at Raphael when he approaches the table he and Aiden take refuge at. "Hello again, cousin." Blue eyes flicker down to Aiden. "It can be if you want it to - I doubt your cousin will make you speak. There are a lot of voices here already." He pats Aiden's arm encouragingly.

Esoka's eyes follow Rymarr, brows arching with interest. Not enough interest to pry, though. She finds herself a spot at the table and hunkers in for meeting purposes.

Esoka has joined the Great Table.

"Greetings cousin, it is good to see you again as well" Raphael spoke and looked around the hall at everyone, hoping to meet everyone at some point.

Another note arrives and the seal on it is broken. Rymarr skims it quickly, then a second time. It is quickly and summarily crumpled into a tight, armored fist before it is slipped beneath the lip of his alaricite gorget and presumably into the safe depths of his breastplate. Thunking steps carry him toward Esoka, whom Rymarr leans in to quietly murmur. It is a short murmur and then Rymarr turns away. He continues from whence he came, on his way back to the main exit from the Great Gray Hall. While normally his steps are quick and his stride long, he seems to nearly trot his way from the Hall.

Sparte is sitting off to the side, dressed down into relatively basic clothes. He still has on the cloak and the insignia of the Iron Guard, but his right arm hangs at his chest in a sling. He listens to the proceedings, but doesn't seem to be here to contribute to them. One might wonder why he is even here.

Whisper the Snowy Owl, Frostbite the Wolf, Lisette of Ashford, Cosette of Ashford arrive, following Killian.

Lou gives a nod to Corban when he settles at the same couch as she and Reese, then turns her attention to Reese when she starts speaking. A faint smile curls at the corner of her lips as she watches her sister in action. If one were looking at Lou, they'd see that she's dressed in her normal adventuring gear. It's rare to see her dressed any other way. "I will definitely take you up on that offer," Lou tells Reese, regarding the training.

Reese sucks in a sharp breath as if trying to gain her voice and continue with this meeting. She clearly is weak or ill or something. "Now I think we should get into the meat of the matter. I admit there is so much to say, that I fear I will miss something. First of all patrols in the Gray forest are finding animals tainted by the Abyss and Shavs who have not bent the knee. Some are hostile and some are not. There are reports of monsters in the forest as well and there are possible cultists. As many of you know, there are problems out at sea. There has been a vision that those Shavs who have not bent the knee will become our enemies and join the army of the god of slavery. The visions suggests they will become slaves and the army of this evil god will come from from the north, into the Gray forest and then attack Compact from there. I would like to prevent this vision from coming true. Does anyone need information about the god of slavery or have comments on this?"

The Countess arrived as she so often did -- with a purposeful stride and a flurry of skirts kicked up by her brusque pace. She was still peeling her gloves off by the time she entered the hall, one finger at time, and slipping them into an interior pocket of her cloke. At the familiar sight of both the King and her liege-lord, the Marquis Deepwood, Mia bent down into a quick curtsy. A display of respect was a necessity. Holding up the proceedings with obsequious formalities was not.

Killian slips in, giving a low whistle to the wolf that accompanies him, which stays by the doorside. The two Ashford servants who follow after him are fairly discrete, though for that matter, Killian seems to be doing his best to avoid notice. He's dressed nicely, in clothes fitting for court rather than his armor as those who are familiar with him might expect. Finding a spot near the back he does his best to slip in without bothering or interrupting, settling in to listen to the meeting but not pushing forward at all.

"I'd like more information on it, within reason," Merek tells Reese, while he continues to scribe down what he can, "I'd suggest in such a huge meeting though, one is careful not to 'name' him," he adds for posterity. He then whispers to Meeka who delivers a letter and he opens it to read, while he writes more.

One would think that Mason may have told Lou everything there is to know about it, but she too speaks up. "I would as well." She nods in affirmation of Merek's idea, seemingly agreeing with him.

Shard's jaw tightens visibly, but that's not as noticeable as just how narrow her eyes get. She doesn't /say/ anything, but she does seem to ease up against the back of her chair, sitting straighter, and there's a palpable tension all about her.

Aiden looks up at the mention of the northern God of Slavery, brow lifting as he turns a look to Silas, then back to Reese. He rises from his chair to call attention to himself, "Yes cousin," he notes to Reese, "I will speak to say that I am leading an expedition north, to find answers. The risk is great, though the people who are coming with me, know the land well. I have confidence we can find something and return with more." He nods his head and then sits back down. His face looking a little hot.

Calarian decides to speak on this matter by elevating his velvety tone so that it reaches the hall as a whole, "The Crown Observers and House Grayson are in the initial phases -- or rather middle phases -- of organizing a diplomatic expedition so that we may convince the Abandoned to instead defend what is theirs and not succumb to this slavery we are all being made aware of. Cousins of mine, my lords, my ladies, anyone who is interested in taking part of this expedition who has the skills to partake in it may send me missive so that we may include them in it. Diplomats, military men and experts are encouraged to join within reason. It won't be a single expedition but a series of expeditions. Individual support from each of the vassal houses of Grayson is appreciated, both in men and women as well as resources of all variety. All in all, one of many approaches - I am sure - to putting in some legwork against this credible threat to the Compact."

One black brow arches at the haste with which Rymarr departed; apparently, she'd taken note of it. It was enough to distract her, at least momentarily, from all but the tail end of what Reese had said. Perhaps that would explain why Mia's voice was a bit tight when she said, "I would like as much information on the Archfiend as you're able to provide, Your Highness. At your convenience, of course. I wouldn't want to delay any of the agenda by asking you to reiterate matters that other attendees might already be familiar with."

Shard looks sharply toward Calarian.

Calarian looks aside to Aiden and elevates his voice even more than the tone he was using for his own expedition, "And so is my cousin Aiden, of course, who is a skilled man with gentle purposes. Aid him as well in his expedition which will happen soon -- and which is also one of these many approaches I was talking about."

Sparte's eyes widen slightly at the promise of new information. He looks around at people curiously, but still manages to keep his mouth shut.

Reese smiles toward Mia, seemingly pleased by her presence. She then turns her focus to Merek, giving him a nod. "Yes, I would like to avoid naming his name, especially with so many, but I fear it could draw his notice in general." She listens to Calarian's words, nodding in response. "We are planning a mission to encourage the Shavs in the Gray forest to bend the knee. We want to avoid violent against those not hostile to us, even if they will not bend the knee." She then turns to Mia and Lou. "I would be happy to speak with you both in this at greater length." She murmurs. She then turns her attention Shard. "Mistress Shard, does any of this concern?" You says, keeping her voice gentle or maybe she is just weakened.

Merek nods when Reese acknowledges the matter of names, and continues to write. When the expedition is mentioned, he states after a moment, with some sharpness in his tone, "Some might need to be reminded of that encouragement needing to be peaceful, as one of your patrols almost turned into a massacre by the /demand/ to bend knee under threat," he adds.

Silas reclines in his chair when Aiden pipes up and nods. "We aren't going to be doing much to dissuade the shav'arani tribes from joining the enemy - that's not our primary objective - but I suggest looking into recruiting people who speak the language and may come from those lands. Familiarity breeds empathy; a group of silken high-borns and men with military know-how and weaponry alone likely won't be very convincing.. unless you're willing to threaten them."

Esoka bows her head slight to Mia at the sight of the countess. Looking between her and Calarian with a spark of enthusiasm in her eyes. For herself, she does not speak yet. Listening raptly for any information about the archfiend.

Shard's attention shifts toward Reese, with a brief, still sharp look toward Silas before returning again to her. She inhales--there's something careful about it, and certainly the words she uses afterward are very careful as well, as if she has to pick over each before she says them out loud. "My concerns," she says, slowly, "are unpopular."

Lou speaks something quietly at the couch to Corban, but then delicately lifts a brow in Merek's direction when he mentions people were almost massacred; this she had not heard. She nods agreement with Silas regarding an approach.

2 Armed Confessors, Mariah, a nanny, 2 Grayson Guardsmen, Thump, a yappy pupper, Confessor Warren arrive, following Tikva.

Calarian decides to address Silas with a smile. "Your concerns are true, my lord, and wise. Thus why we are making sure we bring the Golden Feathers, which were in the past convinced by myself and others in the Crown Observers -- the tribe of my late wife. I am sure there is no further credibility than past experiences -- though, in our diplomatic efforts, we are also bringing other Crown Observers, diplomats and people of experience in this kind of operations."

Reese looks over to Merek and sighs softly. She then turns to Silas. "It is morally complicated. We don't want them turning into slaves and we don't want them fighting against us, but we also don't want to be well jerks or to compromise our values or offend the gods. I think you are right, that we need people of Shav origins and who speak the language and know the woods to come. I really do hope, that you will join Dame Esoka for this very reason." Reese says and looks hopefully in the knights' direction. She then turns her focus to Shard. "They may be unpopular, but I still wish to hear them. Now is the time to voice concerns, before this mission starts." She then turns to Calarian, giving him a nod at his words.

Aiden folds his hands in his lap, simply looking toward the speakers without further expression showing in his face. He even politely waves off an offer of a beverage from one of the House staff.

"I can manage to converse in most dialects of the shav'arvani of the Crownlands, your highness," Esoka allows to Reese. "I would give whatever aid I can to making those tribes our allies, of course. Though I am no practiced diplomat. My Countess..." She bows her head to Mia. "...has experience in making such alliances. And my Count Thesarin was, like me, born among the tribes, and may have similar incites."

Killian looks towards Shard, eyes searching the unfamiliar face and figure before he leans forward, shifting more into the conversation as he does. "People need to get used to hearing unpopular thoughts and opinions, and heeding the warnings of those with the wisdom to open their eyes to things other than 'how it has always been' when the world is obviously not as it was ten years ago." He reaches up, tugging his collar down to reveal more of the smooth scarring that newly mars the man's face and body. He looks towards Reese and then Calarian, "The Shav's have common cause with us, believe me, I burried scores of their corpses that had been sacrificed to bring some sort of blight demon into this world..we need to show them that common cause, not compel or break them to our service." He glances then towards Aiden and Silas, "the wilderness is growing darker each day, and the paths more treacherous for travel. I've been watching it happen for months as I journeyed, and there are things moving in the woods and dark places that have nothing to do with the enemy to the north. Do not focus so much upon the obvious threat that you miss the claws at your back."

Silas nods to Calarian, evidently pleased with that plan. "That's good. I suggest putting out a call for others in the city who may be intimately familiar with the tribes in question, in addition to that." He nods to Esoka. "Dame Esoka has proven herself to be invaluable in my own travels."

    Merek settles back, all he has to say said, but he does look encouragingly towards Shard a bit. He seems to be listening to the information and words all said in the meeting, while he does add a "Sorry," for how he worded it. "That reminds me, there's an illness in one or two of the tribes though it was tended to, so be careful if you're out there."

"Dame Esoka is invaluable," Tikva says. Her nostrils flare as she strolls along the table towards the piano and then hitches herself into a lean against it. "My other duties permitting, my bow is yours, along with whatever other talents I bring to bear." Her mouth tugs in an impish little smile. "You know, whatever those are."

Ian is listening politely; his attention is clearly on the conversation, from the way his impossibly blue eyes move from person to person as they speak. But there's no indication in his expression that any of it is touching him. He's as calm as ever, no matter how ominous the tidings.

Calarian gives a firm nod to Killian, evidently in agreement with him. "I believe we have many, many common grounds with them, yes." To Silas, he gives another, angular nod. "I have spoken to Dame Esoka already-- of course. She might not be a diplomat, but she is an example to them, an example that they will belong. My goal has always been not to fight them. I married one of them -- I did. The Golden Feathers can attest to the Grayson's treatment." When Tikva enters, he gives her a smile from afar.

Mason has joined the Couch of Majestic Gryphons.

Tikva has joined the a mahogany grand piano with an ornately carved cabinet.

A late arrival to the meeting, Mason slips quietly into the hall and peers over those gathered before he moves off to settle down on the couch where Lou is sitting.

Aiden considers Killian words with a furrowing of his brow and a lift of his shoulders then as his chin settles in a nod, though he says nothing. He glances aside to Silas then back to the others, quietly pensive with a flash of his sterling silver eyes.

Reese struggles a bit with keeping up things and she continues to look ill. She looks to Esoka, giving her a nod. "You are quite skilled." She says, but then adds. "I would be honored with your count and countess want to attend this mission." She then turns her focus to Killian. "You are right Lord Killian. There are many dark troubles in the forest right now. I do not expect this trip to be without danger. We will reclaim the forest and make it a place of beauty and light once more." She murmurs, but has to pause to cach her breath. "Baron Silas, that is a wise idea, thank you." She says.

Mia nodded once, sharply, to Esoka. And then gestured towards her with an open palm as she added -- perhaps for Reese's benefit, or perhaps for Calarian's -- in a voice that was low and deliberate, "It is as Dame Esoka says; both she and my husband are members of the Greenwood tribe of shav'arvani, who were convinced to join House Riven some fifteen years ago, now." There was a pause, barely a heartbeat, before she added, "If she will be accompanying you, then so will I." It was neither a question nor an offer; she said it as simply and plainly as though she was stating that the sun rises in the morning and sets at night.

Shard's exhale is as slow as her inhale was. She flicks a gaze to Esoka now, then back to Reese, and finally to Killian. "...Fine. Then he's right." She jerks her chin toward the man. "I don't know these visions you're referring to. There might be some larger force at work, some greater protection that they need, but I can tell you this, you're /already/ their enemy. How many of them have you killed? How many of their tribes gone? How many others have 'bent the knee' under threat or implied force, over how many years? And you're still talking about it. It's still a matter of 'come join us and do what we say or else', no matter how pretty you paint that picture. Your visions are right, even if there's no magic involved at all, Reese, because so many of them are already primed and desperate. If they're faced with a choice to give up everything they have and either join you or join him, they'll join him, because a whole lot of them already have decades or centuries of reasons to hate you."

Silas cocks one brow at Killian. "Do not ignore the threats right outside your door if you hope to succeed in any long-term planning, sounds much more practical. Can't do much if the homestead itself is lit aflame. But it sounds like we have a logically sound plan in place already." He shrugs.

Sparte raises his good hand after a bit, looking around the room nervously. "Is, ah, anyone giving lessons on these dialects?" He gives a nervous smile before lowering his hand again.

    "She's right, this might very well make your vision more likely to come true. It's what drove so many to join Brand," Merek speaks up for Shard after a moment, "And I've watched about a few thousand Shavs cut down after Brand's magic over them was lifted. Not a single one able to move, or defend themselves, as they were cut through in wave after wave. Trust me, I'm sure if I remember it, every Shav from this room to the farthest reaches have."

Silas gestures to Shard. "She's also correct. We have an uphill climb on our hands, though I still think we should try to make it."

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

Reese turns her attention to Mia, giving her a smile. "Thank you, Countess Mia and that is very good to know." She says in her direction. She then turns her focus to Shard, looking at her with somber attention and sucking a soft breath. "I wish I could say that you are fully wrong, but you are not." She says in her direction. She is silent for a moment as if trying to gather her thoughts. "Despite the past, there is hope. Prince Calarian has had great success in past with such and he can have such again. Look around this room, there is greatness here. So much greatness. This will be difficult, but it is not impossible. The alternative is to either kill the Shavs in the forest to stand back and let them become enslaves, slaves who will work to make more slaves. The alternative is not acceptable. We will try, knowing we stand before a mountain and we will climb this mountain. Together."

Lou nods her head to Mason as he arrives, and she scoots over just enough so that he can settle next to her. She takes another sip of her whiskey, settles it back on her knee, and uses her free hand to take Mason's own as she listens. She leans over to speak to him quietly.

Esoka's posture straightens, or stiffens, in her chair. Particularly at the word 'example' from Calarian. She does not, perhaps, look too comfortable with it. She catches Shard's gaze briefly. Giving the other prodigal woman the smallest nod of her chin. A slight smile to Mia, when the countess says she'll be joining those efforts. To Sparte's question, "I can offer lessons in the tongue of the Crownlands tribes to those that wish them, and have the aptitude. There are differences among each clan, but certain phrases and turns of meaning follow."

"Have instead of bending knee, you thought about just giving Shav'Arvani tribes their own land? They literally exist outside of our law. The law has always stated if they don't bend knee, they are not to be on Arvani soil, I think that allowing them freedom and more rights would do better than them bending knee," Merek offers up to the meeting.

Silas shakes his head. "Giving away land isn't a great precedent, if they're not loyal to the Compact."

"Therein lies your problem," Merek tells Silas.

Shard asks, "Why should they be loyal to the Compact? What reason have they ever been given?" She gestures toward Reese. "She's one of the most ridiculously /nice/ people I've ever met, and she just suggested killing them all to prevent them coming after you."

"... To be fair, she suggested diplomacy," Merek then adds to Shard.

Silas shrugs at Merek. "I don't throw silver at bandits in a forest that belongs to the Crown - I tell them to earn it like everyone else." He glances up at Shard. "If they're spiteful enough to willingly be enslaved, I'm not sure there's any hope, no. Because it sounds like they're already forfeiting survival, by then."

Killian frowns, "I only speak the dialect most common to the shav in the crownlands, so doubt I would be of much use. If you require my aid though, I shall stand ready for whatever is needed.." he gives a little grin, "once Mistress Eithne finishes reforging my armor that is." A moment of consideration and he adds, more somberly, "my studies have not been of the tribes, but what I do know is that there seem to be no end to how many different tribes there are. It would seem foolish then to think that all of the tribes would stand apart from us for identical reasons..a freedom denied, a land claim ignored, a transgression so far in the past it is unremembered by both sides..and of course, the generations of hatred and enmity. But if you wish reconciliation, rather than simply to force them to our way of thinking, it would seem that the first step would be to set people to trying to find the root cause and what might be done to appease that conflict with each tribe." He smiles, "I do not believe you'll find a cloak tailored to fit all who might buy it."

Sparte gives an appreciative nod to Esoka's response, settling back in his seat and going quiet once more.

Merek checked composure at difficulty 15, rolling 9 lower.

Calarian remains silent with a serene smile on his lips, listening to the conversation around -- not interjecting yet as more arguments are said.

"I should have done this at the start of the meeting. But I do want to thank everyone who has gone on the patrols." Reese says and then turns to Merek, seemingly thoughtful. "If they are not loyal to Compact, I believe they will be turned to slaves, at least if the visions are to believed. Call me a dreamer, but I believe these visions and I believe that fate can be changed. We were given the visions by the gods for a reason, we can act." She then turns her Shard. "I did not suggest that. I said it was alternative we would not take." She then turns to Killian. "That is a good point, Lord Killian."

"In any event, many of the tribes of the Gray are indeed our enemies, but lesser enemies than what we might be facing from ... certain parties." Tikva's bright gaze flicks to Calarian, and her mouth turns up at one corner. "There is always the possibility that we might make treaty with some and promise not to make war on them for a given amount of time in exchange for their agreement not to rally to our worse enemies ... without insisting that they all bend the knee immediately to somebody. Marquesa Samantha has had, I believe, had some successes with a similar philosophy, and it actually resulted in many more choosing to bend the knee."

Mason speaks up when there's a moment, "My apologies," he begins in his Eurusi-accented voice, "if this has already been covered, but have the Shav'arvani been asked what they would like?"

Reese looks toward Tikva. "Also a good point." She says toward her.

Corban follows the conversation going back and forth, but a little while after he discusses with a messenger near him, he he rises to his feet. "Excuse me," he tells those near him. And then he is for the door, slipping off somewhere else.

Corban has left the Couch of Majestic Gryphons.

Raphael sits back and keeps listening to everything, looking at his cousin and the others, hoping he can help out at some point.

Calarian doesn't interject, though he gives a warm smile aside to Tikva when she speaks up, apparently in agreement -- or not -- who can tell? He's just keeping that polite smile of his as he listens to every argument thrown.

    Merek stands up after a moment, and then he looks at Silas a moment, before he walks around so he can talk more clearly. "You want to accuse me? Then go ahead, yes I gave a band of Shav'Arvani coin, because they had a camp full of ill people that PRINCE AIDEN FUCKING DECIDED NEEDED TO BEND KNEE AND ALMOST CAUSED A MASSACRE, in the midst of diplomacy, why? For some land? You know, I've watched men bleed out as I looked into their eyes. I watched, thousands massacred as a spell was lifted from them and they couldn't defend themselves. I'm not going to support walking in, demanding the knee, and then murdering them when they say no!"

Aiden checked composure + diplomacy at difficulty 15, rolling 12 higher.

Shard looks about to say something, but Merek certainly causes her to stop. She stares for a few moments, blinking, taken aback, and for that little measure she's quiet, clearly thinking. Then she stands up, but it's slower.

Esoka blinks at Merek, then shifts a look to Aiden, then back again. Grunting something under her breath. She just digests that, rather than even trying to respond to it. Mason's addition makes her shoot a faint smile to the Eurusi man. "Perhaps we can ask them, and proceed from there."

Calarian looks up at Merek with this dumbfound face as he begins to raise his voice and utter profanities. "I thought 'fucking' deciding to murder them was exactly what we weren't doing?" he wonders of the room as a whole, the curse sounding unnatural to his accent.

Sparte leans back in his seat, looking at Merek with big saucer eyes. He did not expect that.

Aiden rises from his chair and regards Merek, with his fingers poised on the edge of the table, "Guardsman, need I remind you that you were invited into the Grayson estate, with the intent to help solve problems. If you wish to disrespect me in front of my peers, my friends, and my family, I believe the proper course is a duel. And, I will ask you to leave."

Killian glances towards Merek, lifting a brow at the outburst. "If it will sooth your conscience at all, all attempts to 'lift the spell' and free the slaves of the Bringers failed to my knowledge..in addition, if there were to be any hope of freeing them, it should have happened as a result of the backwash of energies created by Lady Juliet and I when Brand was killed.." He shakes his head, "those men and women were already dead, just because the bodies moved does not change it."

"Master Merek, you will comport yourself appropriately in /our home/, or you will be removed," Tikva says with a slight lift of her chin towards the Confessors she left looming at the back of the hall. "Prince Aiden, you do not need to lower yourself to challenge your drastic social inferior to a duel."

Reese rises to her booted feet, but she rises shakily. Something seems wrong with her. She looks toward Merek and then over to Aiden. "Master Merek." She says, starting in his direction. "You do not have to support this. But I have no intention of going on murder spree. The only Shavs we kill under my command are those who are engaging in evil acts, attacking us, scarificing humans and so forth. Not all the Shav bands are the same, just like not all of us are. But we go to protect life and freedom."

"I'm not accusing you -- that's exactly what you did. You gave them money because they demanded it and they stood in your way - and unlike the scores of others they likely robbed, you could easily part with silver. There were other ways to assist them. You didn't even consider them. Didn't really appreciate you misrepresenting what happened in a public forum." Silas gestures to Aiden. "He upheld the law of the land. He didn't suggest murdering anyone, only informed them of the consequences of what they were doing. And there would be, unless we're willing to allow such things to occur right outside the city walls."

Alaric has left the Plush Couch.

Alaric stands up. "Forgive me, I must depart to an earlier commitment. But as a matter of Compact policy, I expect you to choose alternatives to killing villages in order to save them, just so we're all clear on this," the King declares, and with a regal nod of his head turns and departs.

Mason looks to Killian, frowning. "That's not entirely true. Some Shav recovered. But it is not a matter that needs be discussed now. People did what they thought was best to win the battle. We need to focus on the dangers ahead of us now." He says, glancing around, "And there are many many dangers ahead of us."

Wash stands to wish the King farewell, bowing as the man leaves. He may have left the Grayson family, but certain loyalties have never wavered, perhaps been recently reinforced.

10 King's Own Guardsmen, Zelda, the royal messenger leave, following Alaric.

Ian braces himself on the arm of the couch and manages, with a slight intake of breath, to force himself to his feet to respectfully see the King off. Then he sits again, and resumes watching.

    Merek then looks to Tikva at her words, and seems about to voice something, but then he just shakes his head and looks to Silas for a moment. "They asked for the silver as an afterthought, and if you weren't there, you didn't see that it /almost/ turned the tides of the entire conversation that he demanded them bend knee if they wanted anything from us." He lets out a small sigh, "I am sorry, I truly am, I'm just... So, damn tired... Of seeing death. I think, we should set a new precedence, give them their own land. Give them their own people, that's all I want." He looks to Mason, when he states 'some Shavs recovered' and then motions to him, as if a point was made. "You say if they don't bend knee or parley with us, they will join the demon. All I'm saying is you're putting too much stock into a vision. Maybe there are ways that involve them not bending knee, that involve them living on their own means, that's all I'm asking. I'm sorry. I'll leave, in any case," he adds. He inclines as the King leaves, then looks like he is to follow him out in a moment, shaky.

Aiden turns to Tikva, nodding to her, "No, I do not. It would indeed, be lowering myself. Thank you Sister." He inclines his head to Tikva and returns his silver eyes toward Merek. He includes to Merek, "Your ideals are a pleasant dream, Merek, however, who would you suggest to give up their land entitled to them? Which Great House would like to remove their own people for this cause? And what about all the people in the Lower Boroughs? Would we not reward them with land first, if we are giving away land? Wouldn't our own people wish to hold land?"

Aiden retakes his seat and seems satisfied when Merek announces he's leaving.

Killian eyes Merek, "And you put too little stock in that which you don't understand. If you'd seen the beast in the depths as it ripped the ships from the water and devoured those sailors..or the malevolence of the eye looking up from in that maw, you would have a different perspective entirely upon the importance of the visions granted by the gods."

Silas casts a glance at Aiden. "Did you really demand they bend the knee then threaten them?" Silas looks highly doubtful.

Lou takes a longer sip on her dram of whiskey as things start to get heated. She looks up at Mason as he suggests something reasonable, and smiles encouragement in his direction. She is not a diplomat, so this is not entirely her thing. However, the sudden outburst from Merek gets her distinct attention, and she narrows her eyes at the stranger just a little bit. However, a keen concerned eye goes back to Reese. She's also not a healer to understand what might be going on with her sister. She frowns ever so faintly. Finally, Lou speaks up, and when she does she makes certain she is heard. "Very many dangers. I've seen the large wolves and the ravens tainted by the Abyss. I've seen those who've aligned themselves with the cultists. I've also seen, and helped, those on need in the patrols. I think it is possible to both be wary and diplomatic at the same time on these missions. The first mission I attended, we helped save a shav family from those wanting to sacrifice them to create more creatures. They are already killing their own people as a means to an end. Often, it simply takes a bit of compassion. And, someone to listen to their needs - not much unlike what we do here with our own people. Or, at least, from my humble observations."

Wash doesn't sit down yet, instead turning his gaze on Killian. "What was the name of the ship you were on when the beast attack my Lord?" He inquires of Killian gently, sympathy plain in his voice.

Calarian gives this 'cheery' smile when the King says that, rising to bow to him. "I do wonder the point of this rhetoric, of course," he offers to the room as a whole, "we are going to propose them to bend the knee, help defend themselves, offer truces and what ever other alternative we might find." He smiles aside to Merek and tells him, "We are all tired, Master, and we are all trying to save our homes. That is the gist of this conflict. People fighting for their homelands. The whole point of this expedition is to make them defend their homes under our banner, or with our banner -- but not attack us or fight us."

Shard watches Alaric go. If she looked startled by Merek, she looks shocked by the king. She just stands there by her chair for a moment, blinking a few more times. Then she breathes in. "Fate isn't real any more. Isn't that what was learned with remembering the First Choice? He broke it. We make our own decisions. All of us. The reason the enemy we're talking about is such an enemy is because he takes that away. So if it's some kind of magic protection or whatever, they need to be loyal, that doesn't require bending the knee. It can be an alliance. It can be agreements. And frankly? They might be /more/ loyal to the Compact if they aren't coerced into it. And if you go at it that way, you'll probably get at least a few bending the knee regardless, but because /they/ made the damned choice. And then it might actually last longer than this one single war." She adds, dry as a bone, "And you could also try warning them about him, because they don't actually likely know the extremely powerful warlord is going to enslave them and take their minds away."

Merek looks to Silas, "He didn't threaten them, but he did make the demand, and it almost turned it to violence," he corrects. Then he looks to Killian, "I know /well/ what visions can mean, and I've seen things, but to decide entire people's destinies over it seems... Well. I'm just saying give it more though," He then sighs a bit, while he rubs his face, he then sighs, and motions to his assistant, Meeka, who helps carry him. He then turns once more to the meeting, "My sincerest apologies to House Grayson, as a guest, I've wronged you, send word on how I can make amends for my words, and I'll do so," he adds. Then he's back to turning to the exit.

Aiden glances to Silas, "If I recall, I merely indicated that a party twice our size demanding taxes, is very well banditry in this kingdom. I said people are welcomed to live if they give Fealty to our King, but we cannot give anyone who demands a tax... silver."

Calarian adds to Shard, "That is what we are going to do. We are not going to force them to anything -- I believe the word 'bend the knee' is too strong. They can, if they want, but my whole idea was to align their expectations with ours so that we can work together."

Reese is still on her feet. She looks over to the King. "Understood your highness." She says and then turns her attention to Merek. "They could possibly be given land, but that land would be part of compact in some way and they would be loyal in some way. Loyal with a good deal of freedom, possibly. Freedom is important." She then turns to Lou, nodding in response to her words. She looks upon Shard a moment later. "I agree with that. We can do the mission still though, with that all in mind."

Sparte rsises when the king rises, then retakes his seat. He still seems a bit alarmed by the tone the conversation has taken, but what is he going to do? He sits back and just watches one person after another speak.

Killian raises a hand, wearily rubbing the scar mass at his left temple, before he looks over towards Wash. "The north road approaching the city," he says with a sigh as he sweeps his gaze around, seeming to linger on those present before he relaxes and moves away to lean against a column, seemingly done with whatever he had to say and back to 'quiet listening'.

Reese smiles over to Calarian. "Exactly. We are not going to kill anyone. We are not going to enslave anyone. We are going to align. We are going to to stop enslavement. We are going to lay the groundwork for defeating the god of slavery."

Calarian tells to Merek, "I cannot speak for my cousin Aiden, but as a Voice-- if you can send me a missive with what you would do if you were in my position if you were tasked with protecting your homeland, please tell me what you would do."

"Then you're a fucking wonder," Shard says to Calarian, "and I mean that with all sincerity."

"Ah. I thought, by your expression that you were aboard like myself when the attack came." Wash says. "My mistake." He seats himself again.

Reese sits back down, she looks like she needs to sit back down.

Mason looks to Shard, nodding in agreement. "We have a treaty with the Nox'alfar. We could work on treaties with the Shav, too." To Reese he says, "It may be worth including a disciple of the First Choice in your group. We have all been studying the Enslaver extensively and might be able to better explain the dangers that lie ahead to all the people of Arvum, not just the compact."

    Merek nods back to Calarian, and then to the others, while he walks out wearily.

Silas nods up to Aiden. "I see..." He looks up to the rest of the onlooking party. "Apologies for confronting him - but I knew he was going to continue to use that as an example of our cruel tyranny. I approve of using all the alternatives we can to avoid bloodshed - but I'm not against using military force if it's a choice between fighting them now or fighting them later when they're corrupted."

Merek has left the Emerald Couch.

Aneka, 3 Iron Guardsmen, Meeka leave, following Merek.

Reese turns to Mason. "Great points. I agree." She says in his direction.

"The objective is to avoid that choice," Silas adds.

Meeka arrives, delivering a message to Silas before departing.

Meeka arrives, delivering a message to Silas before departing.

Sparte slowly raises his good hand, looking to Reese as he does so and waiting for permission this time.

Calarian blinks quizzically to Shard, with this slim smile. "Oh, I'm no wonder. I'm just defending my homeland. If they consider us our enemies, fair enough, but we don't -- not the majority of them. If /what/ they ask is something we can /reasonably/ give them, then we will. I can speak their tongue and most of our party will be able to speak their tongue. I am bringing Prodigals so that we can mediate. The talks are supposed to go friendly as we can make them. That is the whole idea. I believe this is a misconception of the idea of this expedition. As the diplomatic leader of it, I can assure you that my goal is not to force them to obey us. My goal is defending my land. Period."

Aiden settles down with a darkened look in his expression. He says nothing further.

Killian looks to Calarian, "I'm not sure how to advise you, but the shav need to be aware that they are being harvested. It looked like an entire tribe was wiped out by the cult I uprooted, all for the purposes of corrupting a holy site of the Pantheon and bringing some..thing..into the world. I would hope that it was an isolated instance, but I don't think any of us are foolish enough to think so.." he considers and adds, "they seemed to worship one of the blights as though it was a living, sentient thing..and judging by what it spewed out, I would hazard that they are more right than wrong.."

As Merek rose to -- and voices rose with him -- Mia elected to (finally) take a seat. She sank down into an empty seat at the great table, her hands reflexively going to her skirts to smoothe out any (likely imaginary) wrinkles that might be found there. Her eyes darted this way and that, moving from speaker to speaker in turn, as she followed the course of the argument. She was disgesting everything that was said thoughtfully. Slowly. It was worth considering. Finally, she looked to Aiden. "I will," she said quietly, at least at first. "I will." Her expression was impassive, but her voice was not. On the contrary, her voice was bold, firm, and direct. Her lips pursed, forming a thoughtful moue. "I will allow any shav'arvani that wish to settle in or around Riven lands in peace, to do so under my banner and my protection, as best I am able to provide it. Our army is not large. But it is better than standing alone when they are threatened."

Calarian gives a firm nod to Killian. "The picture will be posed to them very clearly and I am going to tell them everything I know."

Shard glances toward Silas. "I know you're being sarcastic, but I think it might be good for me to mention that from the outside--" She pauses, and then, instead of finishing, she simply pulls out her seat again and sits back down. Calarian gets a nod. "It's the first time I've heard of your mission."

Silas blinks back at Shard. "I'm not being sarcastic."

Shard says, "I mean the bit about the tyranny."

Meeka arrives, delivering a message to Reese before departing.

"Oh," Silas replies. "My issue was that particular example was a piss poor example of tyranny. I don't doubt it has happened."

Calarian smiles to Shard. "It is the first time we announce it," he confesses, before he looks back to the room, "Any other pressing concerns about the diplomatic incident or may we continue with this meeting? I am of course a flexible man and if anyone believes there is a better alternative than visiting the tribes and trying to speak to them about our problems and the threat that hits them and trying to mediate common grounds, I will bow to that plan. Otherwise, perhaps we may discuss the other topics in agenda?"

Calarian corrects himself, "Diplomatic mission."

Reese looks toward everyone gathered here. "Feel free to contact Prince Calarian or myself for any further information. Prince Calarian will be leading up the more diplomatic side of the mission and I will be doing the more military side." She then turns to Shard. "The visions are recent. The mission was just formulated between Prince Calarian and myself. This is new information."

Calarian quickly speaks up, "By military side my dear cousin means protecting us from the dogs and other threats."

Reese looks toward Calarian, nodding. "I mean that. Thankfully I have my cousin who is better at words than me."

Ian shakes his head slightly and finishes his drink. Lacking a place to put the glass, he continues to hold onto it.

Killian flashes a grin, "Sorry, I snuck in late and missed the handing out of agendas," he admits in a slightly teasing tone as he settles for whatever the next topic is.

Reese leans back in the couch. "So the next order of business. I am looking for commanders and an a admiral to help me run the Grayson military, to qualify one must not be commanding another army, must be of Grayson faction and most be willing to learn the needed skills for such a task."

Sparte slowly lowers his hand, eyes turning downwards as he continues to listen to the proceedings from his seat.

Meeka arrives, delivering a message to Reese before departing.

Shard gives Silas another nod, and then Reese as well. "As long as you understand they aren't likely to be happy to see you," she says, frankly. "But it sounds like you do. And I'm the furthest thing from a diplomat you can find, and I only speak Northlands, but if you actually need another, less Compact face, I'm available." As the topic shifts, she settles a little more in her seat. She's decidedly less tense now. Perhaps as relaxed as she's been since arriving.

Reese turns to Shard, giving her a nod. "Thank you, Mistress Shard. I am honored to have you on this mission and I will do everything in my power not to bring you disappointment in how we relate to the Shav. Although, part of that might be letting Prince Calarian do the talking."

Lou starts to suggest they continue, but Reese is on it! She looks for that servant again, to get a refill of her drink. She speaks quietly to Mason a moment, then looks back to Reese as she moves on. She's not so quick to volunteer for this particular task. She's more scout than commander.

Wash upends his tankard and stands, crossing the room for a generous refill of booze to get him through.

There is lots of booze, lots and lots!

Other than a couple of soft comments exchanged with Lou beside him, Mason has nothing to contribute in the matter of a commander being needed.

Silas wrinkles his nose, but nods to Reese. "I'll be a commander if no one else is up to the task. My barony is relatively peaceful these days, but that may swiftly change. Anyone else may be a more reliable source."

Reese glances toward Silas, giving him smile. "Thank you, Baron Silas." She then turns to Killian. "What about you, Lord Killian?"

Aiden looks toward Reese and nods to her, "With the recent events, it may be that I can offer some assistance with command, cousin." He looks over to Silas and then back with a nod to the Baron's suggestion of becoming one.

Reese finally notices that Sparte is raising his hand. She gives him a sheepish smile. "Master Sparte, did you wish to speak?" She asks gently. She then turns to Aiden. "That would be great, thank you Prince Aiden."

Calarian gives an inaudible air of amusement, waving his flute of nearly-untouched champagne around as if trying to dissuade Reese's words of praise towards him. Though he doesn't comment on it and now seems to be more reserved to listen with that impeccably straightened posture of his.

Sparte checked charm + diplomacy at difficulty 15, rolling 18 higher.

Esoka checked composure + etiquette at difficulty 15, rolling 2 lower.

Esoka blinks at Aiden when he volunteers. Blue eyes narrowing. Her surprise is plain. She manages to moderate her expression after a grunt, though.

Sparte rises up, looking around the room nervously before locking his eyes on Reese. "Thank you. I... I know everyone here has done so very much for the Compact. Everyone here wants to do yet more." He lets out a slow breath, eyes shifting down to his feet. "I'm not a great historian, but I've tried to learn. I'm not a great cartographer, but I've spent time looking at maps. I'm not a great speaker, but I'm willing to talk even if I know it usually comes out sideways." He shakes his head, eyes still on his feet. "And I'm not of title or rank for what I say to matter, but you've graced me with a chance to speak."

Sparte continues, "The compact's tale is long, so incredibly long. There were others that shared this land with us as far back as we have records. Some were allies, some were equals. The tale of Thrax's rise to power is perhaps the best documented, while House Marin - the one they once held allegiance to - is all but forgotten. House Marin, not Thrax, was offered a role in the compact. I don't say this as any slight to Thrax, far from it. I say this because we have a tendancy to see the shav tribes as lessers when they each have their own proud history and traditions." He glances to where Merek was sitting before looking back to the ground. "I will not go so far as my fellow guardsman, but I will ask you this. Is loyalty to a House, or loyalty to the Compact, required to save these tribes from their fate? Perhaps it is time to consider a different way, one where we convince the tribes to do the hard work of convincing their fellows for us. One where we offer to recognize an alliance of sufficient force, and sufficient people, as a House in their own right." He swallows. "Thank you for listening." Then he quietly retakes his seat, giving a furtive look around the room as his ears redden in delayed embarassment.

Tikva looks distinctly quizzical as her gaze slants in Aiden's direction when he volunteers, but aside from visible confusion, she offers no comment on his laudable willingness to serve. Her breath huffs past her nose as her eyebrows dart up. "I have led scouts for the Twainfort and Brighthold," she says, "Reesie, if you need more. But I make a better field scout, and I do have significant time commitments to the Inquisition, in service to His Majesty, sooo."

Shard's eyebrows lift slowly as Sparte speaks. For her part, she stays quiet.

Ian gives Sparte a long, long look. He's still watching the man well after he's sat back down.

Mason gives Sparte a long, thoughtful look. "It might be a suggestion worth exploring the possibilities of." He says, nodding slowly.

Silas listens to Sparte, but his expression doesn't shift much from unreadable neutrality. "If all the shav'arani tribes are willing to form one nation, under one ruler or a group of rulers, that may be feasible. But it is my belief that they're each their own separate entity, with their own goals and ambitions, and not all of them may be aligned with our own. If we want to fight this new threat, it is better to be united."

Aiden drums his fingers on the table, meeting the quizzical shocked blinking eyes that narrow upon him with an even stare. He may murmur something low enough to the table to hear.

Reese turns her attention to Sparte, seemingly somber and thoughtful. "I think that the loyalty of an alliance is at least needed. But we do need to be very careful not to make slaves while trying to avoid slavery." She then pauses. "Thank you for speaking, Master Sparte. I have heard your words and will keep them in mind." Reese turns to Tikva a moment later, giving her a smile. "Thank you Princess Tikva."

"All different," Shard says. "Different histories, different leaders, different traditions, different ways of living."

Sparte shuffles a foot in his seat, face turning redder and redder. Ian's gaze just makes him slump into his chair more, like he wishes he were able to disappear into it.

Calarian smiles to Sparte and he is quick to voice his own thoughts, "Your thoughts as a man of history are appreciated. I too relish the sage wisdom found imprinted on immortal works and documents -- alas, most of which were deleted from our memories. If I could approve such a proposal, I would, of course. But let us considered the millions -- there are millions truly -- of Abandoned in the Grey Forests of our family, and the stewardship of such a matter. As the Minister of Loyalty of my house, I can attest to the great challenges and greater tips of balance that requires of a ruler. First, the challenge of making /millions/ of people join under a house is quite a feat. If it was feasible, first check passed. Second, how would we keep such a great mass of land at bay considering that we would be doubling the population of the Compact as a whole. And I truly mean we would double it. I cannot speak for the King, but at least it is not within House Grayson's feasibility to offer income to each and every one of these houses. Modernizing them to our ways would be impossible. I am okay with them retaining their lands and arranging an alliance with us, in the mean time."

Killian had been on the verge of saying something, but paused to let Sparte speak. When the silence comes again he looks to Reese. "I have always stood ready for whatever Grayson or Ashford required of me," he says quietly, "if you have need of me, then I will do whatever is required to fulfill that role..though I lack the experience of Maude, and I'm certain Duke Gabriel will scold me for forgetting lessons."

Raphael has left the Great Table.

Ian shakes his head again and goes back to watching the proceedings.

Shard's nose wrinkles.

Reese listens to Calarian, nodding in response to his words. She seems to agree with him. She then turns her focus to Killian. "Lord Killian. You have the..." She says, trying to find the right words and failing. "You have the steadfast heart of a commander. I can train you. I will ask my voice and your voice, about you commanding." She says. She then pauses. "Now, the threat out at sea. As almost everyone knows, Compact is threatened by the sea monster as well. We want to help the Thrax, but we also have to protect our lands and watch for the god of slavery. It will be a delicate balance. I reached out to Duke Harald, the Thrax minister of war and he has no request of action from us yet. He does need resources to help rebuild the military. So Prince Calarian and myself are doing a fundraiser. I do welcome any thoughts, comments and so forth about the threat out at sea."

Meeka arrives, delivering a message to Reese before departing.

"The Crafters Guild is preparing to help rebuild the ships belonging to commoners, which were lost to... whatever happened in the harbor. I have pledged some of Hawkhold's timber to the effort," Silas declares. "The Iron Guard can contribute resources, as well, but I realize those are typically needed for the city as a whole."

"What are they looking for in terms of resources?" Lou asks this question of Reese, though she does glance askance at Ian and Wash to see if they have any answers to that regard.

Wash sits forward on his couch and looks about, ready to cede the floor to anyone with both current ties to House Grayson and knowledge. If no one steps forward he stands again. "I suppose this is why I was invited here today."

Ian, the only Thrax-by-birth in this room (at least I think so?), probably should be saying something here about threats at sea, but he continues to watch as though this hasn't ocurred to him. Thankfully, the Thrax-by-marriage has more sense than he does.

Mason reaches to pull out a piece of paper from a small writing case he carries and writes out a lengthy note. When it's finished, he gestures to a messenger and has them take the paper over to Calarian. Then he looks up to Reese, "I have reason to believe there are even greater threats than just that creature from the sea. I cannot speak more of it now, but it's important that we rebuild defenses."

Killian glances at Silas and sighs, "it was a monster Lord Commander, make no mistake..no natural phenomena was involved." He then falls silent again, having neither the resources nor influence of the more powerful nobles in the room to throw at such problems.

Meeka arrives, delivering a message to Shard before departing.

Tikva checked composure + etiquette at difficulty 15, rolling 3 lower.

Reese looks over to Silas, giving him a smile. She then turns to Lou. "They want resources to rebuild ships. We offered to do a fundraiser to help rebuild the military and give resources to the families of those who have perished. High Lord Victus has accepted such offer and is grateful for it." She then turns to Wash. "That and you are a cousin to me and many others in this room. You also are very talented out at sea." Finally she turns to Mason. "Okay, Prince Mason so it seems that rebuilding is important." She seems to take him very seriously. Reese looks toward Killian, nodding. Her expression is quite somber.

"We arranged a meeting to share what we knew of the Gyre and it was a complete and total flop." Wash says, running a hand through his hair. "Derailed by the Faith and overly fancy for the host's taste. Everyone wanted to listen, but no one wanted to share." He takes a couple steps forward. "Well fuck that. We call him the Gyre, and I'll answer any question you have about it, if I know the answer. I'm looking for ways to kill his pet, the Leviathan, the kraken, the creature that has been summoned to hunt Thrax in a pique of vain irony. Let us hope that is in vain that it hunts, for without a fleet, this enemy will land where it likes, eliminate all trade along the coast and wipe out entire islands. This we have witnesses first hand to attest to."

Calarian receives the paper, gives it a quick read, and gives a firm bob of his head to Mason. With that, however, he's rising from his couch. "I have to take my leave now," he announces of the room in a quieter tone, trying not to disturb the ongoing discussion and beginning to head out of the room. Behind him, his retinue of five men follow him, foosteps echoing in the hall -- ruining any attempt at not being noticed.

There was a faint flare of Mia's nostrils at the mention of the Thrax naval loss, but she said nothing. She simply shifted in her seat and looked towards... what was it they were serving? Drinks?

Shard's attention shifts fully to Wash as he speaks. She says nothing, but she's clearly listening.

"Prince Calarian, take care and thank you." She says as the minister of loyalty starts to leave. She then turns to Wash, nodding to him. "Much of that is new information to me. Thank you for sharing."

Tikva looks off into the middle distance for a moment, a hint of a frown turning her mouth down at the corners. She sits down on the bench in front of the piano, crossing her feet at the ankles. "I agree with Prince Mason," she says. "Our focus must be upon the inland threat. It is more imminent. The unnatural phenomenon that struck at the Shrine of Mangata was ... /not/ the threat that has plagued the seas from beyond." She huffs the hiss of a breath past her teeth and then adds, "Take His Grace Victus at his word when he claims responsibility for that, if you will. And as for the demon you speak of, Lord Kennex ... it is wise not to name demons you wish not to heed you, no matter the /habits/ of your fellow liegemen. Have a care."

Lou's an explorer by nature, and so she's not entirely surprised to her about yet more monsters. She's learned that nightmares are true. She glances askance at Mason when the Gyre is mentioned, then looks back to Wash, giving him a look of mild consideration.

Calarian has left the Plush Couch.

3 Grayson Guardsmen, Philip, an overworked assistant, Crown Observer Barcus leave, following Calarian.

Esoka speaks not of the shav tribes in the Gray Forest, for her part, though she listens to what the others in the room say with great focus. A frown knits her lips as the topic turns to the disaster that befell the Thrax. Her shoulders stiffen whenever Wash uses the word 'Gyre,' but she absorbs all he says. "Do we know how to prevent such occurences in the future, like what happened in Mangata's shrine? Or at least guard against them?" The question's to Wash and Tikva both. And the room at large, really.

Ian settles back and lets Wash talk. But his gaze is picking out, one by one, each person that addresses him.

Mason nods in agreement with Tikva, "Yes, please be careful not to reference dark beings by name, my lord. The threat of gaining their attention is very real."

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

Reese turns turn Tikva and sucks in a soft breath. "I trust you on this." She says and then pauses. "But we should still help the Thrax to rebuild, I think." She says, sounding thoughtful.

"We believe that /the Gyre/ is not a demon, but a herald of the Archfiend that is a reflection of Mangata. There are other theories, but that is the dominant one. The Gyre was a man, and a pirate but may be more now, the same as Brand became. What's more, it's likely that he is of Compact descent, severed from our nation by politics or for crimes committed, that knowledge is lost to history." Wash glances at Tikva but wrinkles his nose at the distaste of her words. "I'm not here to play politics, or to apologize for the actions of my liege. I will follow their lead and spit in the eye of those that defy us. The leviathan serves this herald, and there is no evidence that the herald sent him to sink our crafts, it's presence in this world is directly a result of the herald's intervention. So yes, that beast is a part and parcel of the threat that abounds to the East. Ignore it at oyour peril, because you will not recive warning before it's ships, men, shavs, and worse, are at your docks."

"It's not politics," Shard snaps, although she doesn't elaborate further.

Inquisitor Jonathen, 4 Veteran Confessors arrive, following Laric.

Tikva checked composure + etiquette at difficulty 15, rolling 5 lower.

Mason checked composure + etiquette at difficulty 15, rolling 14 higher.

Folding her arms over the blood-dark steel of her mail, Tikva sighs. "Better channels of information sharing, Esoka, that's all I can recommend. We all scramble in the dark." She turns a weighted stare on Wash. "What the fuck do you think the Herald of an Archfiend is, you blithering moron?"

Ian shifts his electric gaze to Tikva and plants it there. "That's a little bit excessive, don't you think?" He suggests. He doesn't sound upset. In fact, he sounds a tiny bit surprised.

Mason gives Wash a wary look, "Please. If not for your sake than for ours, my lord. This place is not protected from the long ears of the abyss when their names are spoken." He presses, a deep frown on his face. He's calm outwardly, but looks quite unhappy. Then as Tikva's anger erupts, he gives her a grim glance but simply nods quietly and looks back to Wash. "Why don't you share the perils of the East, my lord. I don't think many here are privy to that knowledge. But please do not use names."

Sparte slowly forgets his embarassment as people move on, back to the ping pong of watching one person after another speak.

Laric starts through the hall again. It must be the third time he's come and gone since the meeting began, but this time is different. He's taking it easy, going slow, limping along and leaning his weight on the cane he's using. It seems he picked an interesting time to slow, too, just as Tikva loses her cool. He pauses, gaze slowly drawing from Tikva to Wash, brows perked as he takes stock of the conversation.

Lou stiffens and stares at Wash when he continues to mention names asked not to be spoken. "Please, at the very least, show respect in our home when asked not to do something." She states calmly, but only just so.

Reese leans back against the couch, looking pale and weak. She looks toward Tikva and then over to Wash. She seems a bit uncertain how to respond. A polite nod of greeting is give to Laric as he slows down. "Avoiding the names is necessary and I would like to hear about the threats to the east, Lord Wash." She says, finally gathering her words.

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

Reese gets a package and it seems to cheer her up. She smiles an shows a pink gryphon shirt.

Reese drops Pink Cambric Shirt With a Multi-Hued Pink Gryphon.

Esoka nods at Tikva's answer, though she still looks puzzled and frown-y. Her attention remains on Wash, even if she continues to stiffen every time he says the name 'Gyre.'

Reese hmms softly. "Well, I think we covered everything that was on my list. Does anyone need anything from me?" She says, maybe leaning toward closing down the meeting. She does look rather exhausted.

"We should listen to what Lord Wash has to share, if he's willing." Mason says softly.

"Only to know when you need my services," Lou states, "but, I expect you'll send messengers to let me know that information." She smiles warmly at her sister, though that concern for Reese's welfare still shows. She nods to Mason, and glances curiously back over to Wash.

Silas nods to Mason's suggestion. "Call him Squidface if you must."

Reese looks toward Mason, nodding in response to his words. "That sounds good." She murmurs.

Aiden has remained quiet throughtout the rest of the meeting, his gaze turning to Silas to check and then follows his attention to Mason. "Whatever one knows about the Northern threat... would be helpful."

"Then shutter your mouths and listen." Wash says: "The only protection against the beast in the deeps, which serves the power in the east, is to bless each boat, every craft with the sigil of Mangata. As the reflection of their master, the touch of the sigils burns them. I am experimenting with ways to make these things more effective, but I am going to need to redesign an entire vessel from stern to stem. If you want to be a part of those trials, see me after this meeting. The last bit of information I can share is the sigil of their oceangoing clan: 'A kraken's tentacle extending out of an eye'. This was the banner of an ancient house, long extinguished. It still flies in the East it seems."

Reese seems even more exhausted. She is even being rather quiet.

Mason checked composure at difficulty 15, rolling 14 higher.

With all the flutter and talking going on, Raphael still seems content listening to everyone. He smiles and shifts his body to his left in his chair

Raphael has joined the Great Table.

Sparte raises his eyebrow, then furrows them as he listens to Wash's words. It gets him thinking, to be sure.

Samantha has made her way in quietly and without comment. Nods are offered all around as she takes her seat and listens, hands at rest on her belly.

Mason listens to Wash, brows furrowing as the man speaks. When the man finishes, he looks briefly puzzled. Then he says, "Thank you, Lord Wash. That is very valuable information." He looks to Aiden, "I can tell you what I have learned of the northern threat later, if you like." He offers, then hesitates, before sharing, "I cannot say much, but I have reason to believe there is a larger threat coming form the East. I do not think the banner of the ancient house is a coincidence."

"If by northern threat," Shard says, low, "You mean a certain horned threat, I'm also interested. I doubt I have information you don't, but we could compare notes."

Silas hums thoughtfully. "If carving the sigil into the ship works, it would be more permanent than using paint. But I suspect you know that already."

Aiden ndos to Mason, "I would appreciate that, as the expedition I'm leading is heading North and the more I'm armed with, may mean the greater chance we will return without loss..." He sighs and lifts up, "I also know about the ...Squidface, though I cannot say if you have knowledge of what I know or not. There is too much..." He exhales, slightly irrritable.... He's at his limit for managing the crowds.

"The sigil is likely meaningless without the blessing that should accompany it." Wash points out to Silas. "And on the hull it is not enough to protect the ship. I have some ideas to experiment with. Kennex is well known for their innovation in ship design. Something I both relish and cherish."

Samantha suddenly takes a hard look at Aiden. "You're looking to confront the one with the horns?"

Shard looks from Samantha, to Aiden. "I doubt he's looking to /confront/ him."

Silas coughs. "Certainly not."

Mia's eyes snapped up at Samantha's words. A frown etched itself onto her face, deep lines written in the corners around her mouth.

Lou glances over at Aiden. "How far north?" the experienced explorer asks. "Only as north as the Gray forest, or as north as Everwinter?"

Aiden shakes his head, "No. Avoid, mostly, and survive setting sail." His eyes look to Lou, nodding at her.

Esoka makes a low "Mmm" sound as Wash shares what he knows of Squidface. She continues to just listen. Very closely. There are many threats in the air.

Two of the three least mobile people in the room, Laric (injured!) and Samantha (pregnant!) exchange a quiet word, the former paying partial attention to the ongoing conversation.

Shard suddenly frowns. Something noticeable, but undefined, crosses her features, and there's an aborted comment that doesn't quite make past her lips. Instead, a muscle works in her cheek.

Lou gets a thoughtful look as she regards Aiden. She speaks something to her seat, then rises and walks over to Aiden's table to settle down.

Lou has left the Couch of Majestic Gryphons.

Lou has joined the Great Table.

Killian's expression is closed off and hard to read, his eyes flowing over the various persons present and listening, but seeming for the moment to be an observer with little to add.

Samantha nods stiffly, the woman's dander apparently relaxing as she goes back to her quiet conversation with Laric.

Aiden regards Lou, with a tired gaze in his eyes, more the 'at the limit' for crowds... Though for her chosen seat, he tilts his head and lowers his tone to speak with her.

"For reference," Tikva breaks in with a kind of icy crispness that does not come naturally to her ordinarily warm, cheerful tones, "the Herald of an Archfiend is a demon; one of the /highest order/ of demon. Do not name them for no reason for the same reasons you do not name demons lightly. And by all means, tell the rest of Thrax that so that they stop yelling about him in every other proclamation, please."

Shard finally just asks, "You think he's as far north as Everwinter?"

Sparte takes out a small book from his belt, and uses his left hand to start taking notes. Wonder what that is for.

Reese leans back into he couch and struggles to keep up with things now. She looks over to Samantha noticing her presence. "Oh, Marquesa Samantha. I am glad you are here. I should fill you in about the previous part of the meeting or maybe have you meet with Prince Calarian about it. Either way."

Wash inclines his head. "Now. Lords and Ladies. Since Lord Luca has not graced the meeting, I intend to get drunk without him. I am sure Lord Kennex will accompany me in this. The Hart?" He seems ready to take his leave.

Mason turns his attention to Reese, "Let me help you back to your room, Reese. I think we can wrap things up. Thank you for putting this meeting together."

Mason is overheard praising Reese for: Putting together hectic meetings and wrangling us all through them!

Shard looks from Aiden to Silas. Her previous tension seems to have returned in a hurry, although there's something different about it this time. Less angry, perhaps, more...something else.

"I believe the Marquessa and I were just about to slip out, cousin. Unless she'd care to take care of that now -" Laric says, with a brief glance towards Samantha, holding a moment for her confirmation (or denial, you know, dealer's choice).

Ian levers himself, with diffuculty, to his feet. He needs both his cane and the arm of the couch to do this, and the tightness in his jaw as he does so makes it clear that it's painful. "Yes, I think it's time to go get drunk," he agrees. "Very drunk." He nods to Reese, the hostess of the evening, and then moves to follow Wash out.

Samantha gently places her hand on Laric's arm if he permits, and addresses Reese quietly. "If you don't mind, I'll catch up with Prince Calarian and also my husband - I understand he was here earlier. But Prince Laric and I must speak. Thank you for hosting this, it's been informative. Please do go rest." There's a nod to Mia, and then to Laric, "Shall we?"

Silas looks up from the huddle at the table - of which he was barely a part of. "Thank you for organizing this meet-up, Princess Reese. It was enlightening in more ways than I could have predicted."

Samantha is overheard praising Reese for: Lady knows how to run a meeting!

Reese looks toward Wash. "I will let him know he missed drinking." She says, regarding Luca. She then turns to Mason, giving him a nod. "Thank you." She says in his direction. Finally she turns to Laric, giving him and Samantha a nod. "Thats fine, Marquesa Samantha, thank you for coming, please let me know you need anything or if you desire to talk about this at all."

Killian looks at the apparently imminent breakup of the meeting and doesn't say anything as he steps back away from it once more. He simply walks back, moving towards the door and collecting his wolf along the way, seeming relieved to be leaving the mansion. He doesn't turn and look back at the others as he departs, his small entourage in tow.

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

"Let's." And so, Laric and Samantha begin their journey out - let's be fair, despite the fact it's *two* of the least three mobile, it's probably just a touch faster than Ian's.

One black brow arches mildly as Samantha gives her an expectant look. Mia had, it seems, been concentrating more on the agenda of the meeting than the conversations going on around her. There was a long, silent pause that she had likely expected to be filled in with the tail end of their talk, if she was lucky enough to catch it. She was not. "Pardon, my lady?," the Countess asked, looking between her liege and Laric.

Esoka bids a soft good-bye to Samantha in an undertone. As the meeting starts to break up, she seems ready to depart.

Lou blushes at something Aiden says, and inclines her head.

Inquisitor Jonathen, 4 Veteran Confessors leave, following Laric.

Laric leaves, following Samantha.

Mason will rise, offering a hand to Reese to help her to her feet. "Have you had anything to eat all day?" He asks quietly, likely intending to send for food at the same time.

Aiden rises from the table, "If you'd all excuse me..." He nods to those at the table, regards Silas with a question to see if he was willing to depart yet, and otherwise, he's certainly going to proceed to the nearest exit.