votivescholars | The Engagement Ceremony of Viatorus and Ingirun

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The Engagement Ceremony of Viatorus and Ingirun

Welcome to the world of the Durants...

Guests from the Nexus are met by an Isidor who is still dressed for business when she PINpoints them directly to the venue. She is on a mission and pleasantries are swiftly exchanged so that she can give instructions and explain how the day is going to go. The first thing to hit them is that it's hot, and bright. They are now in France, Isidor tells them, her narrative changes appropriately as she leads them from the small stone building, through immaculate gardens and towards a sprawling palace which she insists is small for what it is. This is the home of Gnonyma Durant, her grandmother. A 17th Century French palace once owned by royalty but was gifted to her family as thanks for 'a service' which Isidor says was so private that even the mage's journal doesn't detail what it was.

The air is dry and still, which makes the cool shade of indoors a pleasant relief. Like the ornate facade, the interior of the building is lined with intricate mouldings; decorated with impressive portraits; painted in bright, colourful shades; and filled with flowers and draping fabric. There is plenty of space, a fact emphasised by tiled floors that amplify each step and word. It looks as though almost every room is being used, from the way all the doors are held open for the steady flow of traffic. They are, however, let through the building and out another door. It's the quickest way to where seats sit lined up to face a gazebo decorated with ribbons and flowers that stands in front of a pond that might as well be a lake. Some people might notice the air above them ripple slightly, which certainly has nothing to do with the perfectly ornate poles at each corner of the seating area.

There are already plenty of people milling about. Servants stride from one place to another, expertly staying out of the way of the guests. There are some men and women who are dressed well for the occasion, but like the servants they stay out of the way and scan the area repeatedly, making no attempts to engage with the guests - security, judging by their earpieces. Members of the Durant family are easy to spot. They move in groups or pairs, often getting headed off by people looking to talk to them. A large majority of them also sport sashes of either red or purple with gold trim and ornate pins that vary from person to person. This, Isidor explains, is how you spot a patron and an accomplished scholar, based on the red or purple respectively. Viatorus is not yet an accomplished scholar, which is why they have no sashes. Members of Runa's family are equally easy to spot for those that know her. They would be the large group of tall, golden haired men and women with the distinctive Swedish accents happily talking to anyone and everyone.

After guiding them to their seats she tells them that the ceremony will be another twenty minutes and takes her leave to go and sort out the other numerous things on her endless list. Nobody bothers them while they wait. Everyone is too busy spotting old friends or making their way to their seats. It's a good time to enjoy the scenery. There is a small collection of musicians with harps, violins and flutes to one side. Even the breeze is smelling sweet with the perfume of the bouquets.

Within fifteen minutes Viatorus appears in a tailored suit of light grey and deep purple. He is closely followed by an older, stocky looking man in a black suit and purple tie, and sporting a red and black sash that is even more ornate than any others. Whatever the man is saying to him Viatorus barely gets more of a wave of recognition in to his friends before he's being guided to the gazebo and kept there. Shortly after he's joined by a young man and two women with tanned skin and black hair dressed in simple, but high quality clothes of purple, draping fabric. They look as serious as the man beside Viatorus. That is about the time Isidor reappears in more appropriate attire. She in turn heralds the appearance of a woman who shares her features, dressed in elegant gold and black, who is accompanied by a man whose black suit and purple tie are considerably more simple than his purple sash. Its intricacy matches that of the red one worn by the man standing next to Viatorus. The mood seems to shift at the appearance of these last two guests, becoming quieter, expectant. The Durants gather together, and Viatorus' fidgeting increases tenfold as they exchange words. The men with the sashes and the woman in gold take their seats, many of the guests follow suit.

The ceremony begins...

The young man in purple walks with his staff to stand at the head of the aisle and asks that everyone takes their seats. Exactly twenty minutes after the Nexus guests were shown their seats, the ceremony begins. The young man introduces himself as the high priest of Despoina and welcomes them to the union of the two families Durant and Nyström. As it is a ceremony to mark the union of two families with two sets of tradition and two sets of gods to honour, this will be a merging of these two cultures. It will be a handfasting ceremony of the Old Ways, he explains. This means that the couple will be as man and wife for a year and a day, and after that time they must choose if they wish to marry or separate. The guests now better informed, the priest stands back under the gazebo where a nervous Viatorus and patient Isidor stand waiting. On cue, the musicians start playing unfamiliar, but pleasant music to introduce the arrival of Ingirun dressed in white and accompanied by a rounded, red cheeked man, and followed by a woman who must certainly be one of her sisters. Once she was beside Viatorus, Ingirun's father sat down and the ceremony began.

The priest talked of uniting the two families, naming the virtues of both, as he got the bride-and-groom-to-be to hold hands which he bound in ribbons. He then took them through their vows before invoking the gods and goddesses to bless the union. The mixture of Greek and Norse deities made for a complicated blessing that might have been compared to seeking the approval of two powerful families. With wishes given, the priest unwrapped their hands and had the betrothed drink from the same cup. All in all it was a short ceremony as ceremonies go. A few more blessings were given and then the couple were prompted to kiss to seal the pact, which a bright red Viatorus did, very timidly. Luckily that only made Runa beam more brightly than she already was.

Dinner was in a large hall with close family at the head of the room and everyone else seated at round tables. Every position was carefully chosen, of course. The inevitable speeches came from the father of the bride (who rambled joyously about how happy he was to see his daughter with such a fine young man) and the mother of the groom (who gently, warmly, welcomed Runa into the family and spoke of how proud she and his father were). Drinks were plentiful, as were the courses. There were six in total with a selection of each: Appetisers, soup, fish, the main course, dessert, and a palate cleanser. No one will be going hungry tonight, that's a certainty.

After dinner it's Isidor who stands to say a few last words. She thanks everyone for coming and instructs them to enjoy the evening and all the festivities which "will go on at least until dawn". With that, guests are bid to go and enjoy the entertainment filling the palace.

And now for the party...

There isn't a single place that isn't being used for the party. The gardens have pleasant music playing in them, chairs and tables laid out with cushions and blankets for people to lounge in. One of the largest halls is set out for dancers and their spectators to enjoy live musicians that will play ballroom music for the first part of the evening and be replaced by a band that plays modern music for the second. There is a small room of bookshelves and leather armchairs where men congregate to sip whiskey. Rooms with couches and chairs have people moving in and out of them joining and starting conversations. The priest tends to three statues of goddesses that stand at the end of one room. Here he collects gifts and offerings for the couple's happy future. A man with a perfect smile enthralls a crowd with stories that are only exciting because of the way he tells them. A demure woman facilitates a conversation between straight backed men with chiseled features and shorter tanned men who look equally as disciplined. Servants are found throughout, bringing drinks and snacks to anyone who asks or so much as looks as if they're considering either.

((Feel free to backtag, threadhop, start threads, look for more NPCs, whatever you like! If you're unsure of something, looking for more details, or want to plot then you know the drill - Send a message my way and we'll chat!

Note about gifts: It will say on your character's invitation that gifts are optional and it is suggested that a gift to the gods/goddesses would be more than suitable instead.))

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The Nyströms are a small crowd of tall, blonde, tanned people, with the exception of the eldest man who is slightly shorter and rounder than the rest. In place of the Durants' sashes, they distinguish themselves (purposefully or not) by wearing lighter, brighter colours than the Durant. It's not hard to see where Runa's style came from. They are unmistakably her family.

They happily talk to whoever passes them by, which makes getting places a difficult task. Even as they start to disperse, they aren't very far from each other. That is, apart from one woman who is doing her best to shepherd three children around the garden while her husband holds a squirming baby with a certain level of concern.

Tall blonde people sense their own, even if they are from other planets and one of them is a little less tan these days than he once was. The question is not whether Harrowheart must approach them -- because he must! -- but how.

Now, he knows that Runa is a bright and exuberant young woman, though he might not use that word because he certainly doesn't know that word. She is mannerly, but she's not above publicly enjoying life, as he's seen from some Durants. And that means her family probably taught her to act that way, which means they might not mind being greeted like that themselves.

On the other hand, stuffy Durants are watching. It's probably bad enough that he forgot Isidor explicitly forbade him from touching others and he put his arm around Hephaestia. What a disaster that must have looked, in hindsight. So he won't just be greeting the Nyströms, he'll be performing for the Durants as well...

Light, all of this is making his brain hurt. And all the while as he riddles this out he stares grimly across the party at the innocent Nyströms, his brows furrowed above his glowing eyes and his jaw set firmly. He shakes his shoulder to right his cape and in a determined powerwalk makes his way toward them, expressionless until he's close enough to speak.

And then he smiles slightly and inclines his head. "You're Runa's folks, ain't that right?" he asks, his soft voice in contrast to his earlier facade. "My name is Harrowheart. I'm a friend of hers?" He is, or course, but he's not sure whether or not her family would know as much. He offers a respectful shake to anyone who has a free hand and doesn't mind touching him, even if it is through gloves.

One woman, whose dress is a brown and gold swirl of feather patterns, spots his powerwalk before anyone else, and she and her husband straighten defensively while the rest of the family continue to be oblivious until the very last second. The Nyströms meet his introduction with surprise, and some even look a little concerned. Not only is the oldest man clearly as surprised as the rest of them, but he can see the others looking to him to show them how to proceed and he flounders for just a second.

It's one of the younger men with hair that's hardly been brushed and a hint of stubble lining his jaw, who speaks first. He smiles broadly and steps forward to offer a hand. "Harrowheart. The happy draugr? It's good to meet you. She's spoken a lot about you. I'm Fritjof, and this is my wife, Ragna."

Ragna is clearly an Older Sister, with sleek short hair and still a hint of uncertainty as she joins her husband in greeting this new face.

As soon as Harrowheart has released Fritjof's hand, another man and woman step forward. They're the more mature couple and they look the most suited to the upper class environment. The woman smiles warmly as she offers a hand, "It's nice to finally meet you, Harrowheart. I'm Carita, Runa's oldest sister, and this is my husband Dag." She steps back then to usher the oldest man forward. "This is our father, Arvid."

The guidance puts the joy back into the man's red cheeks and as soon as he smiles it's clear to see he's a relation of Runa. "Hello."

"This is Gry and Hemming," Carita continues, introducing the woman in the feathered dress and her broad shouldered husband who will both offer firm handshakes if he looks for them. Then Carita turns to the man and woman chasing after the children. "And that's Luna and her husband Erling chasing after our little ones."

The happy draugr. That gets a laugh out of him and he nods, smiling. "The Happy Draugr," he repeats as he shakes Fritjof's hand. "Sounds like a good tavern name." He nods once more, this time in recognition of Ragna. And then the assembly line begins...

"Carita," he repeats, "And Dag. Nice to meet y'all." He quickly moves onto Arvid, the shorter, happy-looking man that he is. Harrowheart's smile grows that much wider as Arvid finally greets him. "And Mr. Nyström himself!"

Gry and Hemming give strong handshakes that put a little bit of a determined grin in Harrowheart's otherwise goodnatured smile. Luna and Erling, since they seem so busy, have to learn to live with friendly waves.

He returns his attention to all of the nearest Nyströms and takes it upon himself to inform them, "I'm real happy to finally meet y'all! Runa said she had a big family, but I didn't know she meant like this! Shoot. And you're all just as nice as her, I can tell. I think she's real great, for the record. She'd make a good Ambassador for Earth, if you ask me, 'cause she's just so damn sweet. Mr. Nyström, ladies, y'all raised her up real good. The Durants are lucky folks to be part of her family now."

"It is," Fritjof agrees and while Harrowheart moves onto the other Swedes it's clear that the gears in his mind have been set turning.

"You're very kind," Arvid says, flustering through his thick accent and his smile. "She's very happy here, and I can see why, with compliments like yours!"

After a wave of good natured chuckling, Carita leans forward, her expression one of a mother who is trying to appear cheerful despite being concerned. "Is she going to be an ambassador for Earth?"

"Don't look so worried, Cari," Fritjof pipes up. "Runa would win the hearts of anyone with her cooking alone."

Listening to Arvid and his strong accent is adorable, yet somehow a little sad. He sympathizes with the man, speaking in what must not be his first language. Even though he clearly hasn't been invited to do so he can't help but put a hand on Arvid's shoulder as he looks at him, then at the other Nyströms. "Are y'all speakin' English?" he asks. "You don't gotta. I'm not! There's magic from the in-between plane where Viatorus found me that lets me understand other languages, and for other folks to understand me. Y'all can speak Swedish, if you want."

He lets Arvid go then, but not before an assuring smile.

"Y'know, I did a little research on your country after I met Runa. It looks like a place on my world that I travelled to when I was still alive. And some of your words sound like words in my language. Even some of your gods are known on my world. A few of our Titan Watchers share their names: Odyn, Loken, Thorim, Freya? Are any of them your gods?"

The suggestion that they speak their native language is met with some hesitance. Carita and Dag in particular look to each other as if to psychically convey their thoughts on the matter.

Slowly, Carita speaks in her native Swedish. "All of us women have prayed to Freya at one time or another. Odin, too. He's the chief of the gods."

"They all sound familiar," Arvid says in summary, also in Swedish. "Do you worship them too?"

Harrowheart pulls an uncomfortable face when he senses their reluctance. He's suggested something rude, hasn't he? It wasn't on the list of things not to do...

He shakes his head at their question. "I don't," he says. "I don't worship any gods or titans or... Anything. I don't think anything out there's really interested in undead followers anyhow." He's increasingly feeling the heat. Maybe bringing up religion was a bad decision in a room full of people who are all chosen by deities? "Most humans where I come from don't worship gods, really. But the Vrykul do? They're a race of giant folks who came before humans, and they still live with those watchers, so it makes more sense for them."

Something about this whole tangent feels off. Maybe it's the subject, maybe it's the setting, or maybe the night is beginning to wear on him. Is religion not a subject for civilized conversation on Earth?... Oh... Oh no... It's not a subject for civilized conversation on his world, either. Time for a quick diversion.

He forces an awkward smile that makes him look intensely queasy. "So what do y'all do? Magic-wise, I mean? Every mage has their special skill, right? Like Viatorus and his dreams?..."

Harrowheart's quick cultural lesson is listened to with general attentiveness and some slight nodding. No matter who talks about what it's going to be an educational experience for someone and the Nyströms seem happy enough for it to be their turn.

"We are not like the Viatorus' family," Ragna says swiftly. Unlike with Isidor's curt corrections, Ragna is quick but her voice is warm and steady. It's certainty that has her answering sharply, not irritation. "Not many are. We are volur, Norse shamans. We share our craft with each other and with our children. The talents we each have do not become the only craft we practice."

"But we do each have talents," Carita continues gently. "Gry has a gift with animals."

"Birds," Gry says. "I have a gift with birds."

"Birds, yes." Carita nods and continues, "You should always heed Ragna's advice. Luna knows when it is the best time to do anything. Runa can make anywhere and anyone feel loved."

Fritjof leans in slightly to add, "And I make people laugh." Beside him, Ragna sighs a long suffering sigh and shakes her head in disapproval. Fritjof only grins when he spots it and turns to Harrowheart again. "She's laughing on the inside."

Harrowheart listens, and doesn't react with his usual smiles and laughter at strange new information. Because this is very strange, and not in the usually amusing way. Only when all is said and done and Fritjof insists he's making Ragna laugh does Harrowheart tentatively smile.

"That's a lot to take in," he admits. "Shamanism ain't for humans where I come from. I had to get past that, and then... I guess it's a lot," he repeats, this time with a self-conscious laugh. "I guess I thought everyone on your world was like Viatorus and Isidor? All the mages, anyway. That you all had patrons and scholars, that everyone had their special power that they were masters of. But y'all're..."

His eyes shift from person to person, lingering especially on Arvid, before he addresses the group as a whole again. "Y'all're real normal? And I hope that don't offend."

A few seconds pass before he thinks it would be best to move on. His lips twitch into a curious little smile and he asks, "Tell me about the bird thing?"

"I'll take normal," Dag jokes and Carita smiles at him in agreement.

"I work with birds," Gry says. She stops to shrug and sip her drink before continuing. "Mostly I work with birds of prey. I have a connection with them. I can communicate with them, see through their eyes, invoke their spirit, things like that."

Ragna takes advantage of the slight pause that follows to ask a question of her own. "Who does shamanism in your world?"

Harrowheart's eyes widen and his mouth opens slowly until finally he's staring at her in total excitement. "That's so cool!," he whispers, trying to keep a lid on his enthusiasm in a venue like this. As soon as he says it he straightens up and presses imagined creases from his vest and gives her a serious nod. "Very interesting. That's a special skill some elven women on my world have. They communicate with owl familiars who patrol the forests for them."

Still in his Serious Harrowheart persona he inclines his head to Ragna and reluctantly admits, "Orcs, who're the enemy of humans, and beastfolk like gnolls and tauren – hyena folk and cow folk. I think if a human on my world communed with the ancestors or natural spirits or carved totems for power or anything like that, they wouldn't feel too much at home around the rest of society."

He raises a finger then and stresses with a smile, "But. That's what I like about Earth. Your rules are all different. It's fun to learn what everyone can do, what everybody thinks. I like that there's a place where humans practice shamanism – and very good humans, too. Sometimes I think I'd like to live here on Earth, but it turns out y'all mostly have the same ideas about the undead as we do at home. Seems like every world does."

Then he puts his gloved hand against his chin and asks, "What's a draugr about? Where do they come from? What do they do, what do they want? Where I come from the word is 'death knight,' and I think the rules are a little different."

Harrowheart's enthusiasm may contradict Isidor's list of advice, but Gry is clearly flattered. Her lips twist in and out of a large smile, and she settles on a curious look. "You have elves on your world too? Are they shamans?"

It's Hemming who takes on the task of explaining draugr. His voice is deep and steady, and he speaks confidently as he explains. "Draugr are the restless dead. They rise from their tombs and haunt the mounds they were buried in. They are large and heavy and incredibly strong." He gestures to Harrowheart's face. "A draugr stops decaying, and it has magical power. Draugrs can change the weather and turn into animals and beasts. I have never heard of one as calm as you are."

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Now, Jim's wandering with a purpose through the gardens when he very nearly trips over one of the three children scampering around underfoot. His very direct thoughts of trying to find a certain someone seem to be distracted when a fluffy blonde head peers up at him with a guilty sort of look.

He can't help the chuckle he gives as he squats down to offer a hand to the child and help it up.

"Are you alright?"

The small girl with a loose, wavy bush of hair, stares up at Jim with big blue eyes. She could only be five or six years old. Eventually she breaks her silence by holding up a fistful of flowers. "I need to get more flowers." In a burst of energy, she grabs his hand with a surprisingly strong grip and tugs him to a bush with white flowers dotted here and there. "You can reach these ones.

"Theresa…" A young man approaches, sleeves rolled up to help him carry a toddler who waves his arms about and burbles excitedly. "Don't rope strangers into your adventures."

Theresa drops Jim's hand and pouts, still clinging tightly to her self made bouquet.

The man sighs, but smiles, and shifts the boy in his arms so that he can offer a hand to Jim. "I'm Erling, and this Klemens. You've already met Theresa. I'm one of Runa's brothers-in-law."

"Oh yeah, I can see that."

Jim refrains from laughing again though his smile has turned awfully soft and warm as he is pulled along over to the flowering bush to aid in this Very Important Mission the little girl has. Exaggerated faces of thoughtful contemplation ensue as he overs over each tiny bunch of white flowers until the girl insists that one that, that one and he nods in solemn agreement to her tastes and plucks the blossoms carefully at the base of the stems for her before bending back down to offer them to the child.

Joanna must be nearly this old, Jim reckons. He's only ever met Bones' daughter once and it was in a transmission sent from the ship. He wonders if she'd be this headstrong too. More than likely even worse considering she's Dr. McCoy's. Shuffling in the grass and the burbling of the toddler have Jim looking up after only a moment with a polite smile on his face.

The handshake is returned without making Erling wait. He's got his hands full it seems.

"Jim Kirk. It's a pleasure, Erling. Klemens. And--" Jim looks down and offers a reassuring smile to the girl as well, "Theresa. I'm pleased to meet you too." Oh goodness when she pouts she's even more adorable. The captain can't help but to chuckle just a bit before returning his attention to her father.

"I'm a friend of Viatorus' from the Nexus."

"You're from the Nexus?" Erling laughs breathlessly. "Runa has told us all about that. You think when you live with magic you've heard it all and then she comes and tells us about a world like that."

"Are you from Runa's Other-World?" Theresa pipes up suddenly, pouting forgotten. Now her eyes are wide with excitement and wonder. "Is it really so big that it never ends? Are there really zombies who drink tea and sea monsters with hats and cafés run by bears? And tall houses next to short ones? And libraries as big as cities? Are you an alien?"

"Well, I'm from a world connected to the Nexus, at least. And one with no magic to speak of, at that. So believe me, we're both a bit in over our heads here."

Jim joins in on the laughter, taking half a step back and slipping one hand into his pocket casually while they talk. It gets his sleeve tugged rather insistently when Theresa finds her voice again.

Every time Jim looks down at her his smile gets even more small and soft. She reminds him so much about his best friend's daughter and Jim wishes he could afford Bones more chances to see her. Let him squat down a bit and offer the young girl a grin.

"That's right. I live on a space ship and make sure everyone on board is okay and well. My first officer is an alien and we travel to alllllllll sorts of different worlds to study them." Is it weirder that he's agreeing with her or that he's not even lying? He gives Theresa a conspiratorial wink before he gets up again.

"Harrowheart is a good friend of mine, actually." Tea drinking zombie indeed. "And there is a bear who runs a cafe, that is also true. The Nexus is a strange and wonderful place." Jim looks back at Erling and smiles.

"Aside from wrangling the most adorable group of children, what do you do? Are you a mage as well? Or..wizard? I'm not sure on the terminology, forgive me."

Theresa listens with big blue saucer eyes and an open mouth. She's stunned silent as she imagines all the wonderful things she's been told being true. How wonderful!

"I practice magic like my wife, Luna," Erling says He turns and gestures to the young woman chasing another two toddlers around in dizzying circles. "But most of the time I help my father run the family business." Before Jim can get at all excited he shrugs dismissively. "It's a health company. Not very exciting compared to all of this, or being on a space ship, but it's doing well and it's good work."

"I want to go to the moon!" Theresa exclaims suddenly, jumping up and down. She pats Jim's leg excitedly. "Will you take me? Will you take me to the moon?"

"Well, so long as we're being honest here, my job on board said starship consists mainly of paperwork, meetings, scheduling and other managerial tasks. Not that I'm complaining because I love my job and couldn't see myself doing anything else. But most days it's very routine."

It's when things go wrong or they discover something new that they get to have a bit of fun. Or danger. Both of those things happen, just not nearly as often as people like to make it out to be.

"What's on the moon to see, squirt?" Jim bends down again and scoops Theresa into his arms this time, holding her up against one of his hips so she's on equal ground as the adults talking. "My ship is very very far away from this planet right now. In a whole other solar system, even. I'm sorry."

Erling laughs, "I'm glad I'm not the only one. It's good to be able to have breaks like this and spend time with family."

"There's mister moon and giant's toes and you can see the whole world from up there!" Theresa tells him, uninterrupted by the transition from the ground to being held. She is, however, put out by the news that Jim is far away. "But you're right here." She points up at the sky. "It's only that far away."

"I try not to let people down too often about what my job is like. People have such a romantic view about space travel in this time. And the exciting bits are rather different but no one wants to hear that the bulk of my job has more in common with a typical office worker's than not."

Jim turns that chuckle back toward Theresa then and follows her pointed gaze up to the moon.

"I am right here, thanks to that magical place Viatorus goes to. Even when my ship is faaaaar far away I can get to the Nexus all the same. Though, as to how I arrived here this evening, that has more to do with my friend Felix's magic. I can't do magic of any kind."

"It does make me feel better about my own job," Erling tells him with a lopsided smile. "It is nice to think it's similar to the work of a spaceship captain."

"How did you get into space without magic?" Theresa asks, wrinkling up her nose.

Erling sighs. "Theresa, don't be rude."

"Managerial woes are quite the same in the 23rd century, I'm afraid."

He snorts without meaning to and hastily excuses himself for the ungentlemanly laughter that keeps threatening to take him away as a chuckling mess. Especially when Theresa asks her question.

"Well, unless this Earth is much different than mine, your people first went to space too without magic in the mid 20th century. For hundreds of years people stared up into the space with curiosity and wondered what was out there. It was around that time that mankind first stepped foot on the moon. They did it by building on centuries of study and the same curiosity you have."

Jim smiles down at Theresa softly.

"Because we don't have magic, we do everything manually. With mathematics and science."

Theresa only continues to pull exaggerated and disapproving faces at the whole notion of technology being used to get to the moon.

"Don't pull faces, Theresa," Erling tells her. "You like technology and science. You love riding the train."

She seems to take this into consideration before declaring, "The train goes so fast. You can see the whole world through the window."

"And I bet you can see the entire planet from a space craft," Erling says, looking to Jim for confirmation.

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