Perhaps some trouble is expected tonight. This might account for the contingent of Mercies of Lagoma, Knights of Solace, and Holy Knights of the Templars that have taken up posts throughout the chamber just in case anyone present proved to be foolish enough to ignore the fact that the Assembly of Peers is hallowed ground, all present are granted sanctuary, and that any bloodshed here would be considered one of the greatest offenses to the Gods. Among them, is Princess Sophie Valardin, dressed in the pristine white vestment of her vocation.

Nekarris happily sips rum from a flask. So happily, she's practically bouncing in her seat.

The highlord of the Mourning Isles does not particularly raise his voice, making it difficult to hear in the chamber. The robed figure of Donrai Thrax leans forward on his litter and speaks with his uninflected, dead tone, "It is customary for the crown to call a meeting of the Assembly of Peers to session for the day's Speaker, even when a highlord has requested it, but we have no crown at present. He lies sleeping in the palace, and we all are aware of such. Today we shall address what is to be done about the decapitation of the Compact, and how we will address the matter of a regency." His cold blue eyes flicker to Orazio, "It is also customary for the session to begin with a blessing by the most senior member of the Faith of the Pantheon. Archlector." A gloved hand casually waves in his direction.

Larissa has joined the Commoner Benches.

Abbas spreads his arms out against the bench to create space for him. It wasn't utterly crowded. Dark eyes look sidelong to his family and those sworn to Hisself. A whose who of butchers, seaman, reavers, and their capable 'Voice'. The corded Reaver Prince seems to be in neutral spirits. No smiles break the shallows of his dark beard. He has his hair tied back and his beard flows wild. The man focusses on Hisself when he speaks.

Orazio steps forward, the light bringing a glow to the gold thread in his robes, his expression stern and solemn. He bows to Donrai Thrax, deeply and with respect, before turning to address the assembly. “In the name of Petrichor, who has given unto us dominion, I hereby consecrate this ground. Let all who abide within be bathed in the light of the gods, and be protected by the holy sacrament of Sanctuary. Until this Assembly be lawfully dismissed, to shed blood or begin violence on this ground will be the darkest sin, and shall be punished accordingly.” His black gaze seems to sweep all assembled, watchful and unyielding. It lingers on no particular delegation. His voice is clear and sharp, reaching even the farthest without difficulty. “Now, let us pray. We pray for the charity of Gild, that our every thought and action be for the good of all. We pray for the honor of Gloria, that we will stand courageous for our principles. We pray for the inspiration of Jayus, that we may tread new paths. We pray for the growth of Lagoma, that we do not reject the new for the comfort of the old. We pray for the fidelity of Limerance, that we may never betray the oaths we have sworn for political gain or convenience. We pray for the breath of Mangata, that sustains us and links us, no matter our divisions. We pray to be worthy of the dominion Petrichor has granted, and work ever for the stewardship of land and people. We pray for the justice of the Sentinel, that no innocent be condemned and no guilty man or woman exalted among these peers. We pray for the wisdom of Vellichor, that our actions be informed by knowledge and our legacies preserved for all time.” There’s a pause, before the Archlector continues, “We pray for the awareness of the Thirteenth, and remain ever vigilant against our own darkest desires, that we may keep our eyes to the light, and our feet on the righteous path.”

Esera bows her head in prayer, eyes closed with a sweep of dark lashes.

Nadia lowers her chin accordingly, her gaze hidden beneath a veil of golden lashes.

Calypso lowers her head as Orazio speaks in reverence for the Gods and this sacred place.

Dawn's eyes are but one set of many that turn to Orazio when the Archlector is singled out. The somber requirement of the proceedings has dimmed the Lady's smile, evident even before she bows her head and allows her eyes to close while holy words are spoken.

Edain bows his head in reverence at the benediction and blessing offered by the Archlector.

Eirene waits patiently, hands folding in her lap. She offers a bow of her head as the last is invoked.


Darren's attention focuses momentarily to Orazio as he is introduced, before he bows his head in reverance to the blessings offered.

Kima's head, a blonde crown amidst a sea of darker ones, bows in prayer.

Cesare dipped his head reverently as Jayus was named.

Niccolo bows his head in prayer, his his features pensive as he quietly prays.

Saedrus dips his head, eyes closed for the prayer and hands folded just so on his lap.

Isolde keeps her eyes closed during the invocation, though a small, amused smile crosses her lips, murmuring in silence at the invocation of the Thirteenth.

Victus listens without expression to Orazio's benediction, his head bowed but not much. And when the final words of the Thirteenth are spoken, there might be a shadow of a smile on his lips. Then his head straightens again.

Donella has joined the Voices of the Realm.

Sophie and her Faithful brethren reverently join in the prayer, then again stand at silent attention, the Valardin princess nigh serene yet utterly keen as she regards those assembled.

Donrai speaks with the same dead tone without any inflection as his cold blue eyes glance over towards the rest of the seated highlords after the prayer is intoned, "Thank you, Voice of the Sentinel. The Assembly of Peers is now in session, let any who break its peace be forever accursed by the gods." Donrai lets that settle for a moment before he speaks once more, "It now seems prudent to hear the recommendations for regent by each highlord in turn, or if they favor lawless idiocy or some other suggestion that shows a lack of fitness to rule. As a highlord speaks, it is permissible for the heads of their noble vassal households to offer their opinions on the matter, and mark themselves as sagacious or useless, depending upon their counsel." His masked face turns towards Esera, "What says the Lyceum?"

Orazio bows again, and returns silently to his seat.

Alrec watches for the moment quiet and waving to the few he and knows bowing to those in power. His eyes drifting around the room taking it all in for a moment and then he sips his flask slowly in the quiet moment.

"The Lyceum names Dawn," Esera says. "Sister to the King, Voice to House Grayson. The King sleeps -- the Grayson family need not. We stand behind our liege."

The Lady Sylvie Zaffria, wrapped in spine-baring black, stands from the benches at Donrai's question. She is the first to speak of the Lyceum vassals, stating boldly without care, smokey eyes lifted to her liege and the other High Lords, "Gemecitta is of one voice and agreed with our Liege. There can only be one choice in the matter. The Lady Dawn."

Leo has joined the Lyceum Benches.

Scribes from the Scholars of Vellichor transcribe the proceedings, marking the Lyceum's vote and awaiting any commentary from the other Highlords.

Donrai holds a gloved hand out towards Sylvie, "Thank you, my lady of House Zaffria. The Speaker invites more members of the Lyceum to give their counsel on their choice for regent. You may speak and advise now, or you may save it for such time as it is irrelevant but carries no risk in voicing it, as is the wont of many peers who wish to look wise in retrospect."

Esera looks back over her shoulder at the benches of the Lyceum, her eyes bright as flame as she regards each one. She smiles, and it is a smile sheathed in promise.

The Lady General Calypso Malvici's voice is soon to follow. "Southport supports the words of our Liege. Lady Dawn is our collective choice to lead the Compact."

Duke Fidante of Tor, wrapped in dark steel and a white cloak, rises from his place in the Lyceum benches, "Tor also stands with its liege, the Archduchess of Velenosa, in support of the Lady Dawn of Grayson." After his simple statement, he resumes his seat.

Niccolo lets his gaze find Esera, then Sylvie and from her the rest of those at the Lycene bench. He lifts his head some as others start speaking up, unlike his daughter, the duke does not smile, his features schooled as ever as those dark brown eyes regard each person speaking in turn.

Dawn's regard lingers on Donrai through his announcement. It is an exceedingly mild focus, in light of the High Lord's choice of words. But that look grows warm again as she turns to focus upon the members of the Lyceum who speak. It is dignity which keeps her expression controlled but that same warmth-- and a hint of gratitude-- that leads her to incline her head to each speaker who says her name.

Kima stands to her feet, and says in a voice loud enough to carry, "House Saik stands behind House Velenosa." She then resumes her seat.

Amber looks nervous, on the commoner benches. Gloved hands wring in her lap.

Donrai stares on unblinkingly with his icy blue eyes, "As none in the Lyceum seem willing to volunteer to ingest copious quantities of poison with a suggestion for an alternative, it seems wise to look to the other highlords. What say the Oathlands or the Northlands?"


     With the Lyceum vote counted, Darren's voice will come next. "The Northlands will join with the Lyceum. We name Lady Dawn, Voice of Grayson, to act as Regent while the King sleeps," he inclines his head to those at the table after, before he casts his eyes upward to the Redrain bench.

Eirene snorts a laugh at Donrai's comment, covering her mouth with her hand to try to muffle it.

Slumped forward against the edge of the table in an unladylike fashion, Deva has her chin perched in the palm of her hand. She looks from speaker to speaker, swiveling just enough in her chair to observe before moving on to the next. Quiet words are exchanged with Darren, and only then does she straighten upright with an expectant look on her face. The nod that follows is firm.

Anze snerks at Donrai's comment and just raises his flask to Darren before taking a drink. Seems to be an agreement with the more politically inclined cousin for whatever that's worth.

Edain says, "House Valardin also names Lady Dawn, Voice of the Grayson." Edain says confindently. "We have long supported House Grayson, and we believe Lady Dawn to be a qualified shepherd of her brother's rule and recovery." He looks then his benches to see if any of his Vassall's have anything to add."

Donrai speaks in the same dead, uninflected tone, "House Thrax supports the daughter of King Alaric the Elder, Third of his name, Dawn Baseborn for regent of the crown and protector of the Compact." His cold blue eyes turn to Dawn, "What say the Crownlands, and all nobles who are yet to speak?"

Lydia gives a cheer of approval at Darren's words, standing up slightly as she does so. Then she sits back again and reaches for one of the flasks being passed around.

Eirene is also being handed a flask.

Damon stands, both hands on the bench in front of him, "Wyrmguard agrees and stands with the decision of our liege in support of Lady Dawn." Nodding to Edain he sits back down.


Satisfied, Darren leans back heavily in his chair. There's a faint upnod to the Redrain bench and a bold grin to those seated, before he looks to Edain and Donrai as they speak as well. His fingers twitch at the flask by his hip, but he keeps it hooked there for the time being.

Dominique glances to her brother Damon beside her, she says nothing further, she watches intently. Her blue eyes follows Damon's glance to Edain.

Dawn's eyes chase each speaking of her name, a nod for every person, and her hand lifts to set over her heart. And then the Crownlands are called upon and she draws a short breath, straightening in her chair. "The Voice of Grayson abstains from this vote, though I will answer the call to service. What say you, Crownlands? Kin and vassals, those who've sworn alliegence to my brother, his Majesty, Alaric IV?" she says, her voice carrying easily as she turns her head to survey those seated on Grayson's bench.

Donrai looks from Dawn to the representatives of House Ashford, "This would be remarkably awkward if they voted for me."

Cesare joins in the murmur of uncomfortable laughter, barely audible.

Oh, there's _someone_ who is laughing quite comfortably.

Donella leans in her seat, with her arm propped upon the back of her chair as voices speak, and her grandfather prompts. She rests the fingers of one hand against the seam of her lips, and intones, "Nothing the hounds couldn't handle, I daresay..."

"Luckily for everyone," Aislin replies wryly, "I have no intention of being awkward tonight; House Ashford stands in support of Lady Dawn."


Darren folds his arms over his chest and chuckles deeply at Donrai's words, looking up to the benches as the representive for House Ashford speaks.

Fortunato has joined the Commoner Benches.

Donrai gestures with a gloved hand towards Dawn, "As Speaker of the Assembly, I give the Compact its regent, Lady Dawn, who shall serve until such time as her brother King Alaric Grayson IV recovers from his illness or passes from this world which would be a stunning show of good sense. Now on that illness I believe we will speak, and of the threats to the Compact. I believe the Grand Duchess of the Lyceum wished to address this matter." The blue eyes look towards Esera.

Maximilian turns to stare at Valerius - dumbfounded.

It is official, and the Scholars of Vellichor mark it down for posterity.

Esera rises, palms flat against the table. She stands tall and regal before the Assembly, pride and power in the arch of her back, in the line of her shoulders. "People of the Compact," she says, voice rising, arresting. Her eyes are wide and bright as she looks out at the Assembly. "The King sleeps -- for now. My mother, the Grand Duchess Carlotta, and Prince Darren's father, High Lord of Redrain, sleep forever. It was not by the hands of men that they died, not by the blades of any Shav that they were desecrated. They were slain by Elves." Silence follows, and it is a powerful silence indeed. "We have forgotten who we are. /What/ we are. We are lost in shadow -- in the absence of memory. In darkness, we will stumble, and we will break apart. In darkness, all dreams of unity are shattered." She makes eye contact with Isolde. "I call forth my sister, Princess Isolde," she says. "I call her forth, to free us from shadow. Isolde -- speak."

Nekarris gasps. Elves? In her Compact?!

Its more likely than you think!

Isolde gets translated treaty between the Compact and the Twilight Court from small wooden box sealed with inky silk ties and iron bands.

    Isolde stands, motioning for Serafine to join her, as she goes to address the Assembly at large, her smoke and satin voice carrying like a trained speaker.((3 poses for ease))

    "Lady Regent, Your Graces, Members of the Assembly, guests and onlookers. I think we can all agree darkness looms like the stuff of legends. Whispers, the stuff of fantasy, surround us every day, from demons, to elves, to strange arts, and bloody sacrifices. Today, I offer hope, a light in the darkness, if you will. Many of you know of the Treaty between the Compact and an entity known as the Twilight Court, also known as the Nox'alfar. Written in Elvish, it seemed more a frustration than anything. We were able to find someone with enough of a handle on the language, to give us a good start, while the search continues for the original translated copy.

    "I present to the Assembly, my cousin, Princess Serafine Velenosa, who in these ten years was not, in fact, lost to us and a tragic tale, but instead, a survivor, a woman who flourished despite hardships, forging bonds and a life with a group that spoke a tongue close to that of the 'Alfar. In fact, she has, herself, been graced with the presence of these creatures, thought to be nothing more than legend and folktale. Her story is hers to tell, in full, but she was able to create a translation of the Elvish script, and provide us with a place to start.


Darren's face falls flat and unreadable as Esera stands to make her announcement. He says nothing at all, and instead turns his focus wholly on Isolde as she rises to address the Assembly.

    "Each Great House has received a copy of this treaty, which gives us many answers, but many questions as well. A copy has also been made available in the Stacks of the Archives of Vellichor. ((Also 'L Isolde's Treaty' To spam yourself now.)) One thing is certain -- the darkness that encroaches on the people of the Compact also threatens the ancient allies. It is my hope, and the hope of all our people, that I can provide the opportunity to bridge the gap our lost translation created. I seek permission of this Assembly to begin preparations to contact the Twilight Court, to fulfill our obligations and to redress any wrongs that may have been done. I do not wish to tax the Houses any more than the rampant tragedies have already done so, taking only volunteers, as well as insuring enough strength to see the delegation protected.

Dawn sinks back into her chair, chin raised but expression sketched in somber lines as the weight of the Assembly's vote settles upon her. Those paying attention might see a muscle tic in her jaw for Donrai's choice of words but she doesn't look at him. Instead, she looks to Esera and says nothing, listening to those called forward. No trace of surprise is shown for what is said-- only a nod, here and there, to confirm the words of others.

    "It should be noted -- the Translation I bring forth today is only a place to start. Part of these preparations will be to find additional sources, to confirm any uncertainty we find here in these words. My prayers, to the whole of the Pantheon, is that we find the original translation, but the world is moving at a rapid pace, and I fear we do not have the time to wait. I do not suggest running off immediately, by any means. But I wish to prepare, so that when we are ready to go, we waste no time. Several things within the treaty need to be answered. Much has been researched already, but we still have more questions than answers.

    "What I have no doubt in, Your Graces, Assembly members, is that whatever darkness desires to destroy the Compact, and our people, by tearing us apart? will -fail-. It will fail because we, together, will act with wisdom, with reason, and we will see through the lies. We will see the glory of the reflected truth, and the paltry games the darkness plays against our people will crumble to dust and ash before the fire of our combined will, and we, united, will be stronger in victory. Let their failure to tear us apart and divide us be complete, thorough, and swift."


     Serafine stands, garbed in grays of smoke and charcoal, to stand by Isolde's side. Silent and serious, hands at her sides, her expression somber, the woman simply presented. Watching the others.

Eirene mutters a curse as her eyebrows raise incredulously. She looks doubtful but also somehow unsurprised. She moves her hand to the hilt of her sword unconsciously.

Slowly leaning forward with a wonderous look on his face Alric smiles softly watching and this was something unkown to the pirate. His eyes light up with the delight and wanting to hear the story and his flask is brought out again for a long sip and then he slides out a leather notebook to take notes.

Kima leans forward, expression one of avid interest. Though there just may, perhaps, be the curl of a smile at the corner of her mouth.

Niccolo Niccolo's face remains as it's been through the assembly. Serious, reserved. When Isolde speaks, there is a touch of pride that makes it to the man's eyes. Eyes that remain on his daughter for a few moments, before they turn to look at the rest of the gathering, measuring their reactions. Those eyes fall on Eriene and the duke clears his throat, letting his gaze linger there.

Damon lowers his brow and leans back into the bench, lifting his chin. A glances is spared to his sister, a knowing one.

Calypso sits in quiet confidence as the Velenosa women speak. First the declaration of the existence of elves, second the request to contact them. She is unmoved emotionally, observant in her silence.

At the Thrax Benches, Victus Thrax looks unsurprising at the revelations. Not the smug 'I already know this' kind of unsurprised, but rather the unhappy'I'd rather it was all just stupid make belief' kind of unsurprised. Sour and brooding. His hands close arond the hilt of his great big axe.

Elves. Sophie's blue eyes widen a smidge, brows lofting almost imperceptibly. Not something she was expecting to hear, but it isn't some schooled sense composure that she exudes. No, it's more akin to the bland response of "when it rains, it pours".

In her seat at the Grayson benches, Aislin looks unsurprised. Troubled, yes; there's no question the widely-traveled explorer finds these events worrying. But not terribly surprised, despite that. What she seems curious about is the reactions of others, glancing about the room.

Cesare has left the Commoner Benches.

Donrai keeps his cold eyes on Isolde during the duration of her speech, "The Princess Isolde places her faith in acting with wisdom and reason to create unity. While I prefer to place my faith in the crushing power of my armies, it was very inspiring." His dead voice never changes, "I imagine there is a proposal waiting on how to properly address this."

All of Deva's pent up energy is focused into the bouncing of her foot in the air, one leg crossed over the other at the knee. She watches Isolde and Serafine closely, her gaze only wavering to check the reactions of the leaders seated at the center table. With the casual crossing of her arms, she even smiles on.

Eos was among those that took it all in without much change in his features one way or another. His attention only moves from those speaking and presenting when Niccolo glances toward Eirene, and he looks that way as well before leaning over to murmur at her shoulder.

Eirene blinks at what Eos says as she looks away from Niccolo and lifts her hand back to her lap as if stung.


Darren remains quiet, his expression mostly neutral as he keeps his own eyes on Isolde. There may be a twitch of pride there as well, and certainly respect for the woman who speaks, though it's fleeting at best as he watches Serafine closely after. He dips his head to Deva, murmuring something to her.

"We are pieces played against each other in a game we do not understand," Esera says. "The Nox'Alfar killed my Mother -- but have no doubt, my Mother was used. As we all have been." She retakes her seat, slipping a ring back onto her finger as she does. "We must seek what we have lost. We must reach out to the Nox'Alfar -- and we must do so before war comes to the gates of Arx."

Nadia exhales a slow breath, her eyes opening with an upward sweep of her lashes. She rises from her seat and steps forward from the Redrain stands, her chin tilted to lift her green eyes upon the Voices of the Compact, waiting to be acknowledged.

Dawn lifts her chin. Again, her voice carries easily beyond the boundaries of the central table. "Thank you, Princess Isolde, Princess Serafine, for your work in bringing this truth to us. Knowledge is a light and you have brought that to Arx, through your efforts." As for proposals, well... the newly minted Regent keeps her silence here, as others speak. When Nadia stands, those pale grey eyes shift between the Duchess and her liege lord, Darren.

    "Of course, your Grace." Isolde dips her head respectfully to Donrai. "And, as previously discussed no response is off the table, simply... in a very particular order, I think." She looks over the others. "As the Treaty states, there are humans that act as intermediaries. I believe the various threads of research out there are close to discovering how to contact these Keepers. That is the first step, trying to make contact as... properly as possible. There is also work being done to locate the Night's Grove, so if necessary, we can go -near- it, not to it. Never to it. Any initial contact is not to make deals or promises we may be unwilling to keep, but to open up a dialogue. There are rumors the Keepers are being slaughtered, so time is not on our side... so, we need to be efficient in our plans."

Abbas broods where he sits on the bench. Pitch eyes stare with anger. The mercurial and hot-tempered Prince though endeavors to keep his cool.

Nekarris fidgets, displaying a hint of anxiety, at all this talk of Keepers and slaughter and elves.


Darren looks to each of the members at the table in turn before he rises to his feet, allowing his voice to rise up to the Assembly. "As Princess Isolde spoke, work has been done to locate the Night's Grove," he nods to the Princess, before returnign his eyes to those at the center table. "One of mine own, Duchess Nadia, captured an Abandoned Chieftan recently and brought him back from the Gray Forest. As the Treaty indicates, the Night's Grove is off limits except for those who keep the teind. This was echoed by the Chieftan himself," he allows. "So I propose a letter be drafted by the High Lords, and left on the boundaries of the Night's Grove. It risks little, and each of us can send a participant to these boundaries to leave the letter and return home. I would think Princess Isolde could help develop the team that delivers the letter," he offers.

Freja has joined the Redrain Benches.

Serafine frowns when Darren says 'Teind', and then raises her eyebrows at the mention of letters; writing a letter in what language? But she keeps silent, watching. Observing.

Donrai looks from Darren to Nadia, "Was this the matter that the Duchess of Nightgold intended to speak? Please continue, Duchess Nadia."

Abbas looks to Darren and then Nadia. A brow goes up and the Thraxian leans back and smirks.

Freja had slipped in quietly, not fashionably late in the least bit if weather worn scouting leathers aren't the latest thing.


Darren nods to Nadia, inviting her to speak as he retakes his seat.

Donrai gestures towards Abbas, "Prince Abbas, one of my less useless grandchildren, was also involved in this recent questionable trip into the Gray Forest, if he has any recommendations."

Abbas stands and nods, "I will speak after the Duchess." He waits his turn.

The Duchess of Stonedeep takes another tentative step forward, bare fingertips brushing along the back of a bench as she steps out and into the full of the eye of the assembly. When she speaks, her voice is easily heard by all, but her eyes remain upon the High Lords of Arvum and their represenatives. "I would not recommend sending Princess Isolde and a team out into the Gray Forest to make contact with the Nox'Aflar," she states her disapproval first and foremost, green eyes swept toward the Mirrormask in question. "The Bringers of Silence have already begun their march toward the Night Grove, and have laid waste to numerous villages in the Northwest, deep in the forests where patrols have not been conducted for at least a generation. In their wake, there has been nothing but destruction. Hundreds left dead, their tongues ripped out and nailed upon the doorframes and windows of the remnants of the homes they were dragged from."
    "Ripped asunder, their bodies desecreated and left in pieces before their blood had even stained the soil. I recommend we know what we're truly up against, to take time to know what is truly -happening- before we even begin to think of preparing to send our people toward the Night Grove. We could be sending them straight to their deaths."

Nekarris gasps, again. This time, her hands fly up to cover her mouth.

"Who will the Bringers come for, when they have destroyed the Nox'Alfar?" Esera asks. "We will unite -- or we will fall. We stand together." She looks down the table, at each High Lord, and each voice. "We fight together. The risk must be taken."

Donrai blinks once slowly as he looks at Esera, "I wonder if they swim."

Kima glances sidelong to Nekarris, but otherwise does not look as nearly as disturbed. Rather, she folds her arms across her chest, and leans back within her seat. Blue eyes then alight upon Abbas, before flickering towards the Archduchess when she speaks.

Serafine digs her teeth into her bottom lip, brow furrowed, listening to a soft voice nearby. She simply nods.

"If they cannot swim," Esera says, "they may yet fly."

At the news of these Northern villages' fate, Aislin's expression visible darkens, the edges of her mouth thinning with displeasure. These may not be lands she has responsibility to or fealty for, but any such destruction quite clearly sits poorly with the explorer.

Isolde murmurs quietly to Serafine, putting a hand on her arm, keeping her calm eyes on Nadia.

Freja's own expression is wholly neutral, save for the scarred brow that arches.

Taking in all the news and whatever reactions she can observe from her vantage, Sophie's summer sky eyes cut across the crowd and pensively alight upon the Godsworn benches, a sense of grim resolve seeping into her mouth and her brow, in the set of her shoulders her chin.

Eirene Locks her jaw and scowls deeply

    Nadia speaks out once more, her eyes lifted toward the Esera. "Grandduchess," she addresses her with nothing short of respect due to her esteemed position. "How do you fight an enemy you cannot see? Something that is intangible and unknown to you? To all of us? Tell me, how would you prepare Princess Isolde to face an enemy that is undetectable? That robs the world of its sound, and siphons the very life from the earth itself simply by -manifesting?"

Dawn's fingers tap restlessly against the arms of her chair, though her posture remains otherwise calm, almost relaxed. She listens quietly to what is relayed and then she lifts her voice again. "A summit must be held. We must know more and to do that, we must risk. Those who wish to go, submit your names to your High Lord. Volunteers who will accept the risk of traveling there, knowing that you may not return. The Princess Isolde and the Princess Deva will help to organize those who are selected by their lieges for this venture. A letter will be drafted for them to carry. Is this acceptable to the Council?"

Isolde stands again, looking to the Assembly.

"So what is your suggestion?" Niccolo speaks to Nadia.

Serafine simply nods again, her bottom lip near close to bleeding.

Samantha's fingers suddenly seize the bench, and for a moment, it looks as if she's going to stand. But perhaps surprisingly, the Conscience of the Peers remains seated, her expression flinty.


Darren looks up to Nadia as he speaks, his face a mask of emotion. When he looks back to the table, he nods in agreement with Esera. "We will fight together. Preparation is undoubtedly a concern on all our minds. This shouldn't be a reckless endeavor," he lifts his shoulder in a shrug. "And it will not be," he says that firmly, before looking back to Nadia with lofted brows.

"House Velenosa finds this acceptable," Esera answers Dawn. "We do not understand how to fight an enemy that is undetectable. We do not know how to destroy silence. But I would wager that the Nox'Alfar do."

Isolde aaaaaand, sits back down, satisfied, offering a nod to Dawn and Esera.

Donrai turns his cold blue eyes towards Dawn, "As the regent suggests, Maelstrom will support. Princess Deva and Princess Isolde seem suitable to research the nature of this threat and possibly deliver a message, and will depart at an appropriate time."

"We are fucking fools to merely take this act if this is the one we take." Abbas asserts and looks around to those gathered, "I have faced the Gyre and blooded them upon my axe. I have seen the kraken and survived to tell the tale. I have heard the voice of these devils. If they were so powerful they would not use others whom when you apply proper Thraxian pressure on an axe to their neck - their heads still pop off all the same."

"What are we? Useless thralls who peddle our dignity for the sake of life? I'd rather die a fucking proper Thraxian death than live with my throat bared. I propose we do not just the one act. But we also prepare for the worst too. While we research how to kill them I suggest funding for a small force of butchers. Butchers who are well trained by the likes of Kima Saik and led into battle by me amongs others.

We need to know more. We need to start capturing and taking these fuckers alive like we did the Chieftain. We need to not leave ourselves weak and useless if the bastards don't take our well-intentioned love notes the wrong way."

"I move to have this Assembly authorize us to build a force amongst the Compact. To be ready to seize advantage and act with steel if needed. Not just ink. It is foolishness and folly to do otherwise. Weakness.

"I appreicate your sentiment, Duchess Nadia, but answers are simply not just laying around to be found by us." Edain says calmly, "Someone most likely burned them some 300 years ago. The Abandoned that slaughtered my family came upon us in silence, and good Oathland Steel still cut them down in the end. We gain nothing if we risk nothing. There will be no need to pray for a dragon with Princess Isolde's mission, I will make sure there is one already there."


Darren inclines his head to Dawn. "House Redrain supports the Regent's suggestion as well," he looks back to Deva, and murmurs something to her.

Calypso stands from her seat and looks to the main table. She inclines her head in a request to speak.

Sitting up straighter now, Deva offers Isolde a small smile from where she sits at the table. She gives a polite nod of her head toward the voices speaking up, but remains remarkably silent.

Donrai gestures his hand towards Calypso, "Lady Calypso Malvici, you have a suggestion?"

    Nadia turns to regard Niccolo when he speaks to her, her slender fingers dug deep against the back of the bench. "I can only advise that they execute extreme caution in their mission, and understand that there is an unstoppable force they they cannot fight. I support my liege wholeheartedly in that this endeavor will not be reckless," she softens, her eyes drifting toward Abbas when he speaks before she returns to her seat, silent.

Upon hearing her name uttered by Abbas, Kima inclines her head, but as others were preparing to speak, she remains silent for the time being.

When the Highlord of Valardin speaks, his Mercy cousin's attention shifts thattaway. Sophie offers Edain a faint, yet fond smile, and a short but decisive nod.

All the while, the Scribes of Vellichor silently and impassively transcribe.

Freja closes her eyes and pinches the bridge of her nose, letting out a long sigh.

"The Compact's head military leaders will be meeting tomorrow. In a seat of unity to open the discussion and bring our forces together. I would ask the council that any action be held until that quorum has had a chance to review the evidence brought to light tonight to help guide the council in making the best decision for the Comapct as a whole." Calypso inclines her head. "These are lives we risk, and not a risk to be taken lightly or a decision to be made in haste."

Anze watches Nadia speak, and looks to Darren when he does, but its to Abbas he watches and even nods a little. Meet blood with blood.

Leo stands as Calypso speaks, looking to the Southport Voice, "I do not recall Malvici representing Tor as one of the head military leaders. You do not represent me, Malvici and you will not speak for my soldiers at this forum of yours."

Nekarris blinks at Calypso.

"House Deepwood supports the Regent." Samantha stands to make her declaration. "Before we resort to war, we must attempt reason. The lives most likely to be lost in any engagement will be those of the common people, and bringing them into strife must be a necessity of ultimate resort." There's a sharp nod to Calypso.

Maximilian pulls out another flask. Where does he keep those things? "This is the part where we start drinking, right, when the velenosa start openly bickering?"

"My Father speaks for the Lyceum in matters of war," Esera answers Leo quickly. "It is the duty of Lenosia."

"Oh, I'm sure they will execute extreme caution. She is my daughter after all," Niccolo remarks to Nadia of Isolde, and looks in her direction with fondness. A show of emotion not often seen in the man, since his wife died. "So your concern is noted. But even if you're right. We can't sit here and wait for thigns to happen, or information to come to us." He looks in Isolde's direction. "We must search for it. And someone has to take that first risk. And if there are two I'd trust to do so," he then looks to Deva. "Well, there they stand. I trust they will take with them the best bodies to succeed at their mission."

"We will proceed with all the care a mission like this deserves," Deva states loudly, confidently, with a lift of her chin in Isolde's direction. "Thank you," she adds for Niccolo, giving the man a brief but solemn look.

Esera rises from her seat at the high table, and crosses the room to stand before her sister. She takes Isolde's hands in hers, and then pulls her into a swift, strong embrace -- a whisper given her. "She will return alive," she says. "Or I assure you this world will burn."

Donella spikes an eyebrow.

Victus listens to the exchange between the lords and ladies of the land with an expression of disgruntled brooding. Whatever opinions he might have, he seems content to leave them to himself. Though he does snort at Esera's words, as if he finds in them a dark gallow's humor.

Donrai looks from Esera to Victus and just comments in his dead voice, "I presume the Gray Forest is flammable."

Did Alis escape her guard retinue again? When she finally arrives to this Assemply of Peers it's alone, and with her steel heeled shoes clicking quietly against the flooring as she tries to unobtrusively sit down next to Edain. Of course, she's short, which is problem one. And obviously making one's way to the middle of the room doesn't help. But here she is, and she murmurs quietly into her brother's ear before offering a very polite apology to the others at the table.

Isolde hugs Esera back with a warm, quiet laugh and murmurs softly to her.

Alis has joined the Voices of the Realm.


Darren leans to murmur something to Deva with a smirk, before he looks up to both Deva and Isolde. He nods in agreement to the words that Niccolo and Esera say. "I have no doubt that the two of them are the best choice for this," he utters along with the rest, reaching to give Deva an affectionate pinch to her arm.

Cara lowers her chin, gaze dark at Donrai, and says barely audibly beyond the benches of the Graysons: "So are boats."

Abbas is seated again and does not spit opinions anymore. He just remains quiet.

Samantha turns her gaze toward Donrai. "There are good and loyal people to the Crown whose lives and livelihoods depend upon the Forest." She remains standing.

Alrec has left the Commoner Benches.

Donrai turns to look dead at Cara and blinks once. A tiny shrug of his shoulders gets across the unspoken statement, 'Well, she's not wrong.'

Esera shares a look with Isolde, and there is little doubting it is a look shared between sisters -- a thousand words spoken in a single gaze. Afterwards, she retakes her seat at the high table, legs crossed at the knee.

"Most things burn," Esera adds.

To judge from Aislin's expression, the acting Voice of Ashford -- a duchy consisting solely of forest, forest, more forest, and a bit of forest on the side -- is not terribly keen on burning the damn thing down.

    Nadia bows her head in acceptance of Niccolo's claim, and hers is a fleeting smile. "Then I will continue as I have," she declares her intent to the duke then. "And work tirelessly to uncover more information that may be beneficial to not only Princess Isolde and Princess Deva's endeavors, but to all of the Compact."

"I Mean.. it's a matter of persistence." Edain says, aggreeing with Grand Duchess. A rare sight.

Maximilian on the otherhand, seems enthused by the idea of burning down places he doesn't live.

Deva sputters at something Darren says, and jabs him in the shoulder with a fist. She appears thoroughly disgusted, looking away with a wrinkled nose. "Was there anything else for tonight?" she asks, after clearing her throat and forcing herself to sit up straighter.

"It is true," says Dawn, her head turning towards Abbas, "that we must not be unprepared for the worst. But I will not support any action that involves venturing out and making war on people who may already be targeted for violence. Especially as we discuss warring on Crownlands, rather than your own kingdoms." Civil, but perhaps a touch dry. "To do so at this juncture is to invite retaliation that we are in no position to stand against, in light of the other threats that face us. Nor will the crown, at this juncture, relax the law on the number of soldiers allowed each kingdom within our capital." She cuts a glance between the Lycenes. "Nor will our preparations limit the involvement of anyone in the Compact, should the crown call its banners. I would advise each House to take an inventory of its military capacity, in the coming weeks. Lord Eos of Saik, these past months, led our soldiers in united military exercises. Soon, it is very possible, we will need to unite in such a way again. Take stock, by all means, but let us leash our urge to aggression until we know more. Lashing out avails us nothing."

"Lashing out tends to discourage misbehavior among one's inferiors. A good flaying seldom can be misinterpreted." Donrai comments mildly in his toneless voice, "Would any wish to address the assembly on another matter before I move to adjourn, with the consent of our regent, Lady Dawn?"

Dominique sits there watching and listening for the moment and her voice will of course do the talking for the house. She is a silent watcher making notes of things and cataloging for later uses.

Freja itchs her right wrist with her left and and leans to the side to murmer something to the unlucky brother seated beside her, Anze.

Dominique has left the Valardin Benches.

Anze had been watching the speakers, but turns his head to Freja to lean in and mutter something back seriously.

"An invitation for the Compact's military leaders has been sent to meet tomorrow. In a seat of unity to open the discussion and bring our forces together when necessary. It is my hope that a sense of unity and security will be brought about by that mutual understanding. A report of that meeting will be sent to all High Lords of the Compact." Calypso inclines her head. "These are lives we risk, and not a risk to be taken lightly."

Nekarris nods, approving. Maybe hopeful. She looks like she could use a sense of unity and security in her life.

Abbas begins to retort to the Regent but decides to not do so. He has some control it seems after all.

Esera is overheard praising Calypso for: All voices in support of unity should be heard, all protectors welcomed.

Eos dips his head to Lady Dawn's word and raises his voice just loud enough to voice, "And I intend to continue my work to see the many and varied armies of the Compact, and their leaders, well prepared for what may come."

"Flaying," Dawn says, in her new role as regent, "will not be joining the punishments used here on the mainland, your Grace." That for Donrai and oops she didn't use her quiet table voice. Moving on, she looks to the gathered Assembly, inclining her head to Eos, and Calypso. "Let us be prepared, planning for the worst, and working towards knowledge of the dangers we face together, as kin and Compact. Do any others wish to address the Assembly?"

Nekarris is overheard praising Calypso for: Yes! Security! Save us from the Bringers!

Samantha has spoken her piece in defense and consideration of the commoners and those vassals who live in and around the Forest; she seems uncertain if her voice has been heard. Her return to her seat is slow, careful.

Nekarris is overheard praising Samantha for: And you, too! You're right, we should protect the people who live deep in the forest.

Maximilian reaches into his jacket, pulling out that yet unopened flask - stands, then walks over to Kima - drops the flask in her lap, then retakes his seat next to the ever effusive in her praise Nekarris.

Donrai turns his cold blue eyes on Samantha and speaks in his cold tone, "Thank you, Marquessa. It is good to remember that when warhorses charge, they do trample a great deal of grass."

Donrai formally addresses Dawn, "To the crown, I formally move to adjourn this meeting of the Assembly of Peers."

Maximilian is overheard praising Donrai for: Forests are Flammable. And pretty. When on fire.

Maximilian is overheard praising Abbas for: Tellin' it like it is.

Serafine is overheard praising Isolde for: For bring her news to light and being a voice of Wisdom.

"The soul of generosity," Kima remarks when she finds herself with a flask dropped within her lap. She lifts it up and waggles it at the Count, and then subsequently performs arcane Lycene poison tests.

Leo is overheard condemning Calypso for: Unity does not begin with exclusion. You presume too much.

Darren is overheard praising Dawn for: Our new Regent, as it should be.

Damon leans back into his bench, fingers laced together in his lap, with a deep sigh.

Serafine is overheard condemning Abbas for: A shallow perspective would doom us all.

Samantha remarks, not in address to anyone in particular, "When warhorses charge, it's on the grass fed by the blood of common people who've died for it."

Dawn nudges her chair back and rises to her full, considerable height. Again, she lifts her chin to help with the projecting of her voice. "Thank you. All of you," she says, simply, but with heartfelt sincerity. "These are frightening times, to learn the world was not what we thought it was. But together, we will overcome. The Compact always has, together. I am proud, and honoured, to serve you." She tilts a glance at the other High Lords and then intones, "This Assembly is adjourned."