Skip to main content.

Sylv'alfar Primer

With the tragedy at Bastion it's raised a lot of questions and perhaps some realize that there is a dire need for more information! Well, Brigid Inverno will gladly help facilitate one topic of discussion: Sylv'alfar. Please join a Knight of Solace and the Softest Whisper in a colorful discussion!

((OOC: A clue sharing opportunity for those who want to know a little bit more about Sylv'alfar, Oberion Thornweave, and perhaps open up other discussions about Bastion.))


Oct. 19, 2021, 8 p.m.

Hosted By

Brigid Cesare


Drake Martinique Ian Caprice Patrizio Denica Zakhar Edris Ryhalt Kiera Thea Zoey Sorrel Jasher Simone Tovell Lenard Bhandn Sebastian Lou Raven Natasha Sonnet Oswyn Monique



Arx - Upper Boroughs - Seawatch Sanctuary - Lecture Hall and Classroom

Largesse Level


Comments and Log

Ian has joined the ornate cushioned benches.

Zakhar has joined the rows of student seating.

The lecture hall is prepared for guests, and in the spirit of any gathering hosted by a Whisper, it is well-prepared indeed. Each table has been stocked with ink, quills, stacks of parchments. And then there are the refreshments. Every beverage imaginable. Coffee. Tea. Wine. Liquor. Juice. Nine kinds of juice, from the looks of it. They are light on the sugary snacks today, but there are plenty of energy-fueling snacks that are good for the brain. Nuts, fruit, cheese. And some pie, because dessert is very important, and the sweet tooths in the room should not be denied.

Meanwhile, at the front of the lecture hall is Cesare, with a small, thin journal in hand, which looks as though it could not possibly contain any decent amount of information, and a beautiful pale green chest next to him. "Welcome, welcome everyone. I'm so happy to see everyone here to share and learn this evening. Please help yourself to whatever refreshments and accommodations you require. We have a lot to go over, so I won't belabor the point. Let's begin."

Drake has a reputation for coming to these things for the food. He's come along with Thea, knowing Kiera intended to attend as well. He gets some coffee, and some pie too. He finds a good spot on the comfortable benches to sit down to listen to the lecture.

Martinique is still limping just a bit as she moves, though she does her level best to hide it. A bit of a limp won't keep the soldier away from the snacks at any rate, and she'll quickly have secured some pie and a glass of wine, which she maneuvers adroitly over to the cushioned benches, onto which she flops somewhat less gracefully than usual, but still without spilling anything.

Ian slouches on a bench, but for all that his posture looks indolent, there's a calm alertness to his bearing that suggests a certain amount of caution or readiness, if not worry.

Arriving alone, shawl casually loose about her shoulders, Caprice quickly makes for a seat with a decent view of the lectern. The size of the crowd already present inspires a tiny smile; the thrill of anticipation is less subdued, however, in the glint of her eyes. Snacks collected, she glances down her row, then to the one ahead and behind her, smiling greetings to faces familiar and less so before shifting focus forward again, an attentive student surreptitiously nibbling cheese now and then.

Most of the time, indeed, Patrizio Pravus does not emulate his cousin Sebastian - he's present and actually on-time, when he's coming in and collecting a drink for himself, as if he can't imagine being at a briefing of any sort without a refreshment in his hand. The general's drawing over to the student seating with nary a word, before he's setting himself up, that folio of his before him, and a ready eye to those who're leading the session.

Denica slips in with a hurried pace, still dressed in her painters smock. There are a few vibrant smears of colour across the front and her fingers are still decorated with today's inspiration. Hair is loose behind her and there is a portfolio tucked under one arm. The young woman takes easy, confident strides into the unfamiliar room. The noise of chatter is enough to guide her in the right direction. Her attention immediately finds familiar faces and she is situating herself near them. Grabbing a drink and sitting down on one of the couches. She brings her feet up to sit cross-legged as she turns her curious expression to the room at large. Smiles for everyone, but mostly she's got that intent look like someone that seeks knowledge unabashedly.

The old man still dressed in a finer set of silks and leathers wanders in with the large marbled cat lazing across his shoulders as if a living shawl. /well she kind of is... silly shekies./ Zakhar takes a seat near to the center and front of the lecture hall.

Ian has left the ornate cushioned benches.

Edris enters the room quietly and unaccompanied, his expression polite but reserved. He does not gather any refreshments, though he does look around at the gathering with interest, before he finds himself a place in the rows of student seating.

Ryhalt has come prepared to take notes for himself, carrying a case, and helps himself to a drink before he settles into a seat. While everyone's settling, he arranges a paper and quill for himself. He smiles to Cesare and Brigid as hosts, as well as others with whom he's acquainted.

Kiera enters and quickly goes to join Drake and Thea bfore looking to cesare and Brigid

Thea rests against Drake as they enter, looking a bit pale. But it's fine. She's fine. Going to grab her own cup of coffee, she goes to have a seat next to her family and others. She gives them a brief smile, making herself comfortable.

Zoey sits on the couch with a book bound in green leather on her lap and a charcoal sketching pencil in her hands to jot down notes. For the most part she is quiet and attentive, but occasionally she does murmur to those sitting near her.

With a cup of tea in one hand and a notebook in the other, Sorrel makes herself comfortable as she settles in to listen to the day's lecture topic. And likely cross-reference things. There's a lot to consider.

A glance towards the resplendent Cesare and at the quick nod to begin, that is Brigid's sign to step forward and stare at everyone with that deep famed austerity. If the woman was nervous it was fractionally detectable by the shuffle of a massive pile of notes. Diamondplate armor was cast aside for something more pliable, the leather a blend for someone who often made it their habit to scour the woodlands for the pure joy of it. Adjusting the tabard of Solace, attention drifted to make sure that no last minute arrival would be making an appearance, "Well met everyone and thank you for taking the time to meet here." Cadence was calm, an unflinching Oathlander's touch that echoed easily in the space without unnecessary projecting, "I know some of the faces here but for those of you that are new and have not had the unfortunate experience of meeting me - I'm Lady Brigid Moore, Knight of Solace."

There is a moment's pause as the silvery onset of tumultuous blues flicker over everyone, "Given what happened at Bastion and certain figures of legend making themselves known, I'd like to open up the discussion on Sylv'alfar, House Thornweave and House Redire as certain information might pertain to them, and if there are curious minds towards the shifter variety I can provide a few things as well." A wry smile touches lush lips, "I know a few faces here who might be more versed than myself and so I would welcome your help."

Rum. That's Jasher's drink of choice this evening; as if there was ever a question as to what this creature of habit would choose. He's been sitting upon a cushioned bench in the lecture hall for some time, now, so only a few early birds like himself would know this is not his first tumbler of liquor. Only this Thrax prince could make the plush upholstery look uncomfortable with his straight-backed, uncompromising posture. The quill he intends to write with is laid flat upon the table beside a folio laid open to fresh vellum. A nod of greeting is offered to every person that joins his bench, a smile reserved specifically for people he actually knows.

Brigid says in Sylv'alfar, "With that being said, let us begin!"

Briar, a quiet young woman, 6 First Legion Centurions arrive, following Sebastian.

Simone moves through the room, graceful steps taking her from the door as she weaves between people and objects to take a seat. It appears she has returned to Arx just a few days ago and is prepared to learn further things about a topic of interest. She even has her own quill, she is that prepared, look at her go. She offers a charming smile to any who pass and gain her attention, and respectful dips of her head to those who offer any sort of greeting in return.

Tovell trails into the lecture hall, clad in plain greys. He's efficient at the refreshments table, heaping himself nuts fruit, and soon sees himself on over to the students' seating. He glints eyes in a curious wander across the many varied folk who've come to the Whisper-run course, his attention only briefly lingering upon the many before directing neatly to the fore when Cesare begins to speak.

Lenard, still in armor and looking dusty and windsept as if he's literally just arrived from the road outside the city, slips in and spares a glance for those already gathered, before choosing a seat near the back where his rattling plate will be at least somewhat bearable for everyone else. He casts a warm smile to Brigid as she makes her introduction, and leans forward rests his chin on one gauntleted fist, listening attentively.

Patrizio is taking notes quietly where he rests, though there's no motion yet for him to take up the drink - there's a time, clearly, for enjoying such things, and a time for learning things. And it's in such spirit that his head lifts when Brigid switches tongues, the crease of his brow when she's speaking, before there's a breath out. And then more writing.

Not alone, Sir Bhandn brought his assistant with him to this particular gala, the knight speaking quietly to Aendal before they make their way into the room. One glance up and Bhandn completely loses it, though. Seeing Brigid is what makes both his eyes pop open and his train of thought to completely derail and crash into a blazing pile of wreckage. He completely stops dead, staring at the Lady Moore for a full ten seconds with his mouth open before a tug on his arm calls him back to his senses. He covers up his staring by helping himself to tea, while his aide goes for coffee AND juice. Soon enough he's settled in to the student seating and his aide is setting up paper and ink, but Bhandn can't seem to stop gawking at Brigid the entire time. At the very least, she has a very attentive student paying very close attention to her.

Sebastian is late, of course -- arriving after introductions are already made. This time however he's fortunate enough to be able to get a decent chair, spotting Patrizio and edging his way towards his cousin. His gaze flickers towards the front as he does so, giving a nod to both Brigid and Cesare, before he settles in and leans to murmur something quietly.

Sebastian has joined the rows of student seating.

Simone has joined the rows of student seating.

Lou had slipped into the rom prior to the event's start. She can be found on one of the many benches set about. She raises a brow when Bastion is mentioned, but otherwise remains quiet. Stoicism is her expression for the evening thus far.

"My most heartfelt thanks to Lady Brigid for being willing to share this information with us," Cesare says, offering a sweeping bow to the lady in question. "I am also here to provide what knowledge I've gathered of the current situation regarding the New Triarchy, the Traitor's attack on civilization, and the state of affairs in Bastion, as well as conjecture on next steps. But it's largely Lady Brigid's wealth of knowledge we have to thank for this evening." He pats the chest. "I've made up some little gifts, if you care to take one. Do not make mischief with them, or I will know about it."

Lou has joined the ornate cushioned benches.

Lenard has joined the rows of student seating.

Kit, the grey fox, Primus, First of Monique's Assistants, 1 Greenmarch Guards, Tertius, Third of Monique's Assistants arrive, following Monique.

Monique has joined the rows of student seating.

3 Thrax Guards, 1 Thrax Elite Guards, Torsney, an attentive high strung law clerk arrive, following Natasha.

Zoey has left the ornate cushioned benches.

Zoey has joined the rows of student seating.

1 Iron Guardsmen, 3 Black Fleet Reavers, Moonsilver, the pale-feathered raven arrive, following Raven.

The soldier is listening intently for all that she is shoveling as much pie into her mouth as she is physically able for at least several more minutes. What? It's free pie. The sign wasn't lying this time.

Raven files in somewhere in the back, unobtrusively, tardy like the bad student she is.

Much like a few of her cousins in attendance, but uncharacteristically tardy, Natasha Thrax enters the lecture hall as surreptitiously as she can. Perhaps it's simply because she never fails to deviate from the austere cut and coloration of her clothes, but her complexion seems paler and even wan today, looking somewhat tired, harried - and even ill. Dark eyes find the seats where her cousins reside, pale fingers lifting in a quiet wave towards Jasher and Denica, but she doesn't join them today. Instead, she moves quietly towards her other cousin, Prince Sebastian, who seems to be saving a seat for her, a small smile directed to him once she claims her space.

Natasha has joined the rows of student seating.

Zoey spots Natasha's arrival and moves to sit beside her patron.

Zakhar takes a many-jointed, many-legged painted wooden arthropod with glowing eyes from a sturdy wooden chest with a pretty spring color theme.

Cesare checked dexterity + sewing at difficulty 9, rolling 46 higher.

Cesare puts a many-jointed, many-legged painted wooden arthropod with glowing eyes in a sturdy wooden chest with a pretty spring color theme.

Sonnet checks dexterity and stealth at daunting. Sonnet fails.

Cesare takes a many-jointed, many-legged painted wooden arthropod with glowing eyes from a sturdy wooden chest with a pretty spring color theme.

Cesare puts a many-jointed, many-legged painted wooden arthropod with glowing eyes in a sturdy wooden chest with a pretty spring color theme.

Sonnet checks composure at daunting. Sonnet fails.

Cesare checked dexterity + sewing at difficulty -6, rolling 55 higher.

Cesare puts a many-jointed, many-legged painted wooden arthropod with glowing eyes in a sturdy wooden chest with a pretty spring color theme.

Sonnet tries to make a quiet entrance, but her nimble feet betray her; she trips and slams her shin into a pew, barks out a curse, and then limps over to a pew that -didn't- attack her to perch on the back of it. If there are people there, that's not her problem. Ow.

Brigid checks composure at hard. Brigid marginally fails.

Lenard gets a many-jointed, many-legged painted wooden arthropod with glowing eyes from a sturdy wooden chest with a pretty spring color theme.

In the middle of speaking on about something to do with a specific journal the suddenly hissing curse from the back causes Brigid's attention to falter, settling on Sonnet with a blink and tries very much not to look nervous.

Monique gets a many-jointed, many-legged painted wooden arthropod with glowing eyes from a sturdy wooden chest with a pretty spring color theme.

Sonnet straightens and gives a smattering of applause to Brigid in ... support? Then goes back to rubbing her shin.

Sonnet has joined the rows of student seating.

Lou is patiently waiting for the lecturing and conjecturing to begin. She easily gets distracted from studying everyone else who's arrived when she hears a muttered curse at the back of the room. Her eyes curiously fall on Sonnet and her gaze remains there for a few moments before she goes back to looking at everyone else again.

Cesare blinks. He looks at Brigid, then at Sonnet, but does not appear to have much to say. He moves to settle next to the uncomfortably rigid Thrax prince with his little journal and a glass of wine, and murmurs something quietly to Jasher before returning his attention to the front of the room.

Raven is loitering in the back, her eyebrows lofting high on her forehead at the turnout tonight.

Oswyn makes his way into the sanctuary's lecture hall and classroom, squinting as he goes. He looks pretty distracted and sort of just sits down in the first available seat he finds.

Sonnet leans forward. "OOooOh," she coos, "those bugs! Steamed with garlic and butter, they're amazing. White wine, if you can find it, is paired best." And then she's settling back into her seat, looking to Sebastian as he addresses her.

Martinique has left the ornate cushioned benches.

No sooner has Oswyn sat down than a messenger hustles in and over to him, speaking quietly. Oswyn gets up again and follows the messenger out.

Thea listens, taking notes as she goes.

Sonnet whispers loudly to no one: "I thought they were doing language classes in here today. Did I get the date wrong? Again?"

Drake is listening, himself, though he'll rely on Thea's notes probably at the end of it since his own are likely to be disorganized. He has a good memory though.

Well, these ones are made of wood," Cesare clarifies, regarding the centipedes. The idea of eating bugs with garlic and butter, though? This intrigues him, noted seafood lover that he is. "White wine," he murmurs. Something catches his eye - someone in attendance, maybe. He rises and goes to take a seat in another part of the room, as if he's making a circuit. Like a good teacher or something.

Raven's eyebrows lift and she tilts her head, "Language? Gods. I'm the wrong damned place..." She frowns and looks around the room, lips pursed and brow knit. Spying Sebastian she slinks over towards the familiar Prince.

Lou glances again over at Sonnet, "I believe we're supposed to be learning more about the Sylv'alfar in general. However, if you need to learn the language or wish to brush up on it sometime, I do know it." A pause, then she says to the unfamiliar woman, "Lou Grayson. Voice of House Grayson and Pathfinder to the Society of Explorers.

Edris glances over to Lou at her offer to Sonnet, unable to hide a flash of keen interest, though he can't look that way long, as he continues to write.

Sonnet shrugs at Raven. "I don't know much Sylv'alfar. I was told a fantastic formal greeting once, in case I needed it." When Lou addresses her, Sonnet levels a Look at the Grayson Princess. "I know who you are. And no, I don't need to know anymore of it. It's a weird language," she explains. "Tastes funny." She taps her lip. "How did that greeting go ...?"

Raven grimaces, 'I

As the conversation rounds out Bloodwood Blades, Jonathan Baseborn, and dives lastly into the terribly sad history of half-blood - Brigid glances towards all those in attendance. "This is just a beginning primer and there is a lot more to discuss. I'll be looking to see if Cesare would be so gracious as to host another one with me." Glancing over at the Softest Whisper, "Please take the floor." It's an almost pleading look from the Oathlander, statuesque form moving to stand against a wall.

"I was once told that it tastes like dirt." This to Sonnet with a wry smile curling at lips.

Raven grimaces, "I'm barely literate in one languge. There'd need to be a powerful need for me to go through trying to master another."

Sonnet looks at Raven. "Well, now I have to remember it. Let's see... Ah-! Repeat after me:"

Sonnet says in Sylv'alfar, "Your Mother is a Wiley Woman who married an Octopus because she's an Adventurous Pervert."

Brigid checks composure at hard. Brigid is successful.

Zoey checks composure at hard. Critical Success! Zoey is spectacularly successful.

Jasher spares a grin of amusement to Denica before he begins to scribble down notes in short-form that he'll decipher and write out more legibly after the fact. His quill pauses mid-letter to lean in to Cesare's whisper, which results in a companionable nod of his head, paired with what might have been a smile, but its brevity may make it difficult to glean by anyone unfamiliar with his reserved expressions.

Brigid blinks, glancing towards Raven, "Don't repeat that."

Lou checks composure at hard. Lou fails.

Sonnet says the phrase again, just to be sure. "At least, I think that's how Oberion said it."

Raven lifts a finger and wags it, "It's true I ain't the brightest ever but I ain't just reciting random gibberish strangers tell me to recite."

Lou gives Sonnet an even more curious look when she announces she knows Lou. "I figured it was best to learn the language of our potential enemi-" Lou can't help but snort at Sonnet's greeting, and tries her very, very best to cover her mouth with her hands and try NOT to look amused. She fails, miserably.

Zoey coughs a little at the greeting Sonnet says.

Drake clearly has no idea what was just said or is paying more attention to what's being said up front. One of those two things.

Thea is listening to Sonnet and Raven, curious. Then Lou is laughing and Brigid is giving off warnings and Thea can't help but ask,"What the shite did she does say?"

The Blackheart's words bring the first real smile to Edris' lips that he's worn the entire gathering. He doesn't have a drink to hand to tip to her in salute, his quill will have to do.

Raven looks to Sonnet, "Repeat after me." She bends over and touches her booted toe and there's the very soft sound of wind breaking before she straitens up and looks Sonnet dead in the eye.

Denica sits cross-legged on the couch, balancing her half-drunk coffee cup on one knee. Denica smirks at Jasher's grin, putting down the sketch book she was holding up to him. Keen blue eyes sweep the room in entirety, but mostly she draws with a piece of broken charcoal or 'takes notes'.

Oop. Cesare has just shifted seats when he is called to take the floor, and he rises again, giving an apologetic smile to Monique and gliding back to the lectern. "Lady Brigid, thank you again, and I suppose I will pick up from where you left off with the Will of the Sleeper and the Knight of the Breach. Seen at the Sack of Bastion, a Knight I can only surmise serves Ruin, who is himself not a mere Herald, but a demigod, the child of Gild and Avarice."

Sonnet meets Raven's gaze. "I've killed creatures just to collect their dying anal gasps for stew. You'll have to do better than that."

There is a curious glance towards Lou at her unfinished statement before addressing Thea, "Something terribly naughty about someone's mother being a pervert for marrying an octopus." Brigid can't help but shake sable hued head, glancing towards the front of the room and dipping her head into a nod towards Cesare.

Ryhalt finishes taking a rapid set of outlined notes. As they seem to get off the track into linguistics and crassness, he starts jotting details on some of the points, waiting for the lecture to continue.

Zakhar says in Crownlands shav, "that reminds me of a time when...""

"Has hand hands, why not,"Thea murumurs back to Lou with a straight face. But seriously, now she wishes she could understand. Because--yep!

"Raven," that's all Sebastian says, lightly, alongside a look.

Raven's chin tilts upwards and laughs, "Not without a change of pants my lady but something to aspire to. An honor to meet you, my lady." She bows politely to Sonnet and obediently stands beside Sebastian.

Patrizio does frown - distinctly, one might notice - at the mention of demigods. "Not that I'd been there," he voices, as much for those around him as perhaps for anyone, "but... that seems to me to be that we're speaking now of a recipe for some greater troubles against us. Though there's the wondering of how we'd know who serves the Traitor, and who serves a demigod..." His tone's respectful, as if he's genuinely asking the question.

Monique flashes a bone-melting smile back at Cesare, entirely unapologetic for some reason. From her backpack, she quietly fishes out a bottle and returns to her conversation with Zakhar.

Monique gets a bottle of Setarco Fire from a sturdy backpack dyed in crimson hues with gold trim.

Sonnet is back to looking around the room, catching names, lingering on a few faces. The corner of her mouth starts to twitch. "Interesting. I know quite a few of you," she murmurs to no one. "Very, very interesting." Then the lecture is shifting. Oh. The Nox'alfar woman stretches out her legs, arms overhead to echo the movement.

Lou does not at all look like she's going to repeat the words Sonnet mentioned. Cesare's comments catch her attention. "That Knight carries one of the weapons from the Tyrant." Lou's voice cuts in to the things that Cesare states. "It's one of thirteen weapons, that make up the original weapon crafted by Harren Harrow. That particular weapon is called Sunderfall. But you wouldn't want to touch that one, or any of the others made from Harren Harrow's sword." This is a topic she knows much about. "That is, unless, you want to find yourself serving the Tyrant." Sonnet gets another curious look after she finishes speaking. "In this life, or another?" she queries, furrowing her brow. It's a valid question.

The lecture has gone on for a bit, and now Zakhar is pulling out a fat leaf and rolling a very heady mix into it. A quick flash of flame from a small steel and flint box and there's the tell-tale blue smoke rising from his lips. Looking back to those at the bench where he sits, Shekies has hoped off his shoulders and is about on the floor somewhere. Not that it looks like the old man really cares right now.

Sonnet snorts at Lou's query. "I don't do that. Look at souls fishing for name-tags. Not me. This life." She taps her bottom lip, amused. "The danger of being too adventurous." Eyes glint with strange humor, and then she's sniffing the air. "More than haze I'm smelling. Demons?" She wrinkles her nose. "Abyssal-wotsits."

Sebastian's posture eases marginally as Raven nears, his glance turning warmer once she's settled at ease with the faintest of murmurs, before he says louder: "It's probably impossible for us to do more than speculate on who serves whom, and why," the prince muses. "Especially when other circumstances can change such alliances, depending on what the particular intent or endgame is. Just like our own politics," his smile deepens, briefly.

Cesare nods, looking between Patrizio and Lou. "I suspect once you read a bit more about Adamant, his breaking of walls and defenses, you will understand why, other than his weapon, I believe he serves Ruin." He nods in acknowledgement to Sebastian. "On Prince Sebastian's note, it is worth saying that the New Triarchy has significant enemies within at least two other Heralds: Dirge, Herald of Despair, and the Prodigal, Herald of Avarice, and half-brother to Ruin. Dirge is an eternal enemy of the Traitor, and Ma-the Prodigal is an enemy of Ruin."

In the back row, Lenard has been quite occupied by his concern for his fellow knight, leaning in and murmuring to the bigger man. But once he's at least partially reassured that Bhandn isn't suffering some sort of issue of the heart or gut, he leans back into his seat and glances around -- just in time to notice the Nox'alfar and catch the quip about demonstench. The young prince is startled all over again, glancing around in alarm as if he's taken it all quite literally.

Sonnet sniffs the air. "Mmm. Could just be that copper waft," she mutters, again to no one, moving to stand.

Monique's brows go up at Cesare's words but the only comment the Minx makes is a sip from the bottle of Fire she carries.

Raven squeezes Sebastian's shoulder and then she turns on heel and saunters towards the exit.

A dip of Patrizio's hand into his cloak, and his flask comes free with a slight smile, the draw of it to his lips for him to take a sip, as if it helps to fortify him while he's continuing to take notes about what he's hearing...

Zoey raises her hand. "The Dirge is not Despair's Herald," she says. "He is a Facet, but the Herald is someone else."

1 Iron Guardsmen, 3 Black Fleet Reavers, Moonsilver, the pale-feathered raven leave, following Raven.

Caprice's keeping her head down, more or less working as a scribe should - recording without much thinking, focused on getting the details down and leaving comprehension for later.

Zakhar takes Golden skull with silk brain pocket from Sling Satchel with bleached thumb bones.

Talk of Heralds and Facets gets Sir Bhandn's attention. He'd been sitting quietly, not completely paying attention until Lenard finally broke through his distraction. There's a great deal of frowning for this sudden turn towards Ruin and Dirge, but Bhandn doesn't speak up. He does turn his gaze toward Zoey, however, sipping tea and frowning at the Lady Kennex as she speaks. His aide, on the other hand, is frowning in concentration (and confusion) but is writing down words all the same.

Zakhar takes A thick fat finger of Haze wrapped in a tobacco leaf from Golden skull with silk brain pocket.

Lou accepts Sonnet's answer. "I haven't been that adventurous on that front. I'm happy being the person I am here and now." Adventurous life and all! She glances back to Cesare, pursing her lips. There's more she might say, but settles on, "I'll have to agree to disagree."

Zakhar puts A thick fat finger of Haze wrapped in a tobacco leaf in Golden skull with silk brain pocket.

Thea has left the ornate cushioned benches.

Finn the large Northern hunting dog with icy blue eyes, Rocco, the rascally assistant, Strawberry Pupcake, the Graypeak Mountain Dog leave, following Thea.

Sonnet just starts laughing at Lou's words. "If you say so!" she says cheerfully. "Names don't wind up on lists without reasons, that's all I mean." She's already moving to a painting leaning against the wall; there's nothing remarkable about it, could be any stretch of landscape to the north, with mountains in the background. "Ooh. I think I knew this guy-" She picks up the painting, squinting at the canvas, muttering. "-short Valardin painter that was allergic to cheese...-" can be overheard.

Lou goes very, very still at Sonnet's words. "My name is on a list?" Her expression is now guarded, and she looks really tense to those seated closest to her.

Zakhar puts a many-jointed, many-legged painted wooden arthropod with glowing eyes in Golden skull with silk brain pocket.

The Dame of Solace glances towards Lou, "Is that surprising?" A raise of eyebrows before Brigid makes her way to go sit beside her two Solace brother's, the elder to whom she gives a smile and a wink, "I'm not a ghost and I promise to explain everything." His attendant is greeted with a familiar wave before attention is back on the lecture being eloquently given by the Softest.

Patrizio pauses for a moment, his head turning slightly when he hears Lou speak up about things, and... the arch of an eyebrow.

Natasha stops writing in her journal, her gaze lifting to rest on Lou and Sonnet at the words.

Sonnet decides something. "I think I want this!" she says. "I'll pay whomever I need to. Who do I send the coin to?" She hefts the painting, holding it by the hanging hardware at the back, over her shoulder like it's a coat. She waits expectantly. And starts tapping her foot. She glances at Lou, pausing the tap-tapping. "Probably?" She goes back to looking at the room. "Honestly, send the bill to the Nox'alfar Embassy, named 'Kathivor'." She heads towards the exit. "If Oberion shows up, tell that dusty sunbather he owes me thirteen silver!"

Brigid checks composure at hard. Brigid marginally fails.

"So," Sorrel says as she flips through her notebook. "Can we get a summary of all this? Of how this all fits together in a coherent story? Because someone asked me earlier about the War of Stolen Names, and I'm still not entirely clear on the specifics of how to assemble this entire tale into something. I mean, I understand how Oathlands houses that were Sylv'alfar blooded would have had issues, but... hmm?"

There is no reply to Lou on that front. "Where was I?" Cesare continues. "Oh yes. The visions." He folds his hands in front of himself. "Some time ago, after the cancellation of the Fall of Caer'alfar play, a vision was received by the cast which showed a number of terrible events from the past, centering around three crowns and three notable historical figures. More recently, another vision showed a bat flying too close to the sun, bursting into flames, an ominous ring, and the death screams of half-bloods. It would be foolish to believe these visions are not connected to the current events. Having recently learned of a place - a shardhaven, truthfully - known as Halfblood's Woe, used as a refuge during the war of Stolen Names and where treasure was hidden to keep it away from the Traitor, I think it would be of benefit to potentially travel there in order to seek out what may prove to be useful against him." He sees Sonnet carrying off the painting. "Oh - I'll - I'll tell Lady Medeia."

Still quite unsettled, Lenard is only moreso when a grizzled messenger in Valardin livery sneaks into the hall and over to lean in to whisper something into the prince's ear. He grunts, brows rising, and then nods his thanks. He gets to his feet with a clank of armor, offers Bhandn and Brigid each a small distracted smile in parting, and follows the man out without another word -- politely pausing to make way to the elf, of course.

Lenard has left the rows of student seating.

Ryhalt rubs idly at his sidewhisker as he jots notes through this section of the lecture.

Sonnet's answer doesn't seem to give Lou any sort of relief. She glances distractedly toward Brigid a moment, not answering the other woman. She just watches Sonnet as she nicks the painting and tells them all to send the bill to Kathivor.

"I hope he doesn't because I can only imagine the sort of commentary he'd give." Brigid murmurs beneath the slip of a breath, glancing to watch Sonnet make her exit before attention is on Sorrel in await of her paused question. Patting Bhandn's shoulder lengthy limbs move to bring herself to lean in idle whisper towards Sebastian.

Sonnet checks dexterity and stealth at daunting. Sonnet is successful.

Sonnet has a very, very large painting. She's standing near a brazier, she's even cackling-

-and then? She's gone.

Sebastian leans to listen ot Brigid, smiling a brilliant smile before he straightens to kiss her cheek, murmuring something in a quiet undertone.

"Fuck," comes Lou's response after Sonnet leaves. She's clearly unsettled by the Nox'alfar's announcement.

Monique is overheard praising Brigid.

Monique is overheard praising Cesare.

Zoey is overheard praising Cesare.

Natasha is overheard praising Brigid.

Zoey is overheard praising Brigid.

Natasha is overheard praising Cesare.

Denica is overheard praising Brigid.

A small fire breaks out in Zakhar's lap as ash from his smoke falls upon the notes he's making

Denica is overheard praising Cesare.

Drake is overheard praising Brigid.

Zoey is overheard praising Caprice.

Drake is overheard praising Cesare.

Zakhar checks dexterity and athletics at hard. Zakhar is successful.

Jasher is overheard praising Brigid.

Sebastian is overheard praising Brigid.

Jasher is overheard praising Cesare.

Sebastian is overheard praising Cesare.

Kiera is overheard praising Brigid.

Natasha is overheard praising Monique.

Kiera is overheard praising Cesare.

Edris is overheard praising Brigid.

Edris is overheard praising Cesare.

"Right. I feel as if I have a hundred pieces of paper, all vaguely related in topic somehow, but absolutely no coherent story to put them all together in a tale," Sorrel explains with a little smile, glancing after where the elf disappeared. "I mean, there may have been some chaotic distractions, but other than a painting and Cesare's visions, I'm not sure what we've discussed. Can you sum this up for me?"

Drake looks at Sorrel, and half-smiles. "Is that not the way things go sometimes? I usually wait until I need to know something, and then I check my notes about what I knew already. I always thought making things organized was the task of the bard."

Well, that was a large painting which vanished into the ether. Just a normal day. Not the first person Cesare has seen vanish. "So," he says. "In response to Princess Sorrel, partially: When we discuss the Sylv'alfar it's important to note that the Traitor was originally a Sylv'alfar prince. He was a member of the Metallic Order before he fell to the Abyss, a mage. Also a very bad dancer. He hates all halfbloods, of whom the Lianhan, the spell singer who defeated him in the War of Stolen Names, was one - and so was her twin, who is now known as the Dirge, a Facet of Despair. The sylv'afar who originally were his kinfolk now serve under him as mindless slaves. He now seeks, along with Ruin and The Eater of Names, to rule the world and all in it. Some say to resurrect Destiny. He has enemies even among the other Abyssal entities, and particularly when we discuss Ruin, and ending Ruin, this will come to play. But that is quite a lot to discuss for one night."

Sonnet has left the rows of student seating.

"Perhaps," Caprice suggests as she looks up from her notes, "given a bit of time to look over these notes... if anybody's interested in sitting with me to discuss them at greater length? See what we come up with collaboratively? It might help us form questions, too, that we can see answered if there are to be future lectures," she adds, with a glance towards the hosts for confirmation.

Sebastian gives a last nod towards Brigid, then rises. "Thank you, Lady Brigid, Whisper Cesare," he bows his head respectfully towards the pair, before he offers an elbow to Natasha. "Would you accompany me? I have a delightful new painting I've been burning to show you."

Monique glances to Caprice and offers a nod of her fiery head. "I'd be happy to sit with you and help with that, Guildmaster."

Caprice angles a quick grin Monique's way, dipping her head in turn, "Lovely, thank you."

"This was most illuminating, thank you both, my lady, Softest," Natasha echoes, in that quiet voice that manages to carry to the furthest end of the room. She whispers something to Zoey, before she extends pale fingers to secure them within her cousin's elbow. "Lead the way, cousin. By the way, did I ever tell you where I ended up hanging your wedding present?"

Kiera hms "I think for next time a list of abyssal players and their relationship to the others would be helpful

There is a soft smile given towards Sebastian before Brigid straightens and goes back to loiter near a wall, listening to Cesare then drifting fog bound sights towards Sorrel, "A good sum up of information and if there is more that might be needed we're certainly open to discussions. This will not be the only hosted event and hopefully we'll be able to provide a bit more clarity." A pause, "It is a lot to take in as one who is still trying to unravel it all still but I hope to help where I can as we as a people continue to plunge further into the unknown."

Lou glances over to Kiera. "THere's actually a list out there already. It's called Heralds, Read and Be Afraid. I can share that with you if you d not already possess it."

"Thank you," he says to Cesare and Brigid as the evening wraps up. As Caprice speaks, he nods to her and smiles, "I always enjoy discussing theories and such, too."

"Ah, yes," Sorrel replies to Cesare as he sums things up, smiling slightly. "Yes. All that. And then there's the business about trying to do it on the Solstice, so that there can never be another Blood Moon due to Destiny being awake and all chained to the path of Fate. His wanting to be a god. His father King A'kioh condemning his people by following his son to the Abyss. The Metallic Traitor's obsession with a certain Fractal causing his fall to the Abyss. All that, right?"

As the meeting draws to a close, Edris finishes his writing. With a slight grimace, he flexes his writing hand, popping the knuckles in it quite inadvertently loudly. But then he too is moving to rise, offering a respectful bow first to the Knight of Solace and then the WHisper.

"Coffee and conversation," Caprice confirms to Ryhalt, smile widening. "I believe we just created a study group."

Small fire contained, mostly by tossing the notes off the table then looking under it for shekies. Zakhar looks ready to start a slow wander of the wards in his haze induced state

Cesare nods to Sorrel. "All that," he agrees.with the faintest smile.

Back to list