The Engagement Ceremony of Viatorus and Ingirun

[votivescholars]

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.))

✣ · ✣ · ✣ · ✣

The Nyströms  |   Hephaestia  |  The Archon, Liselotte & Stathis  | The Priest  | Oraskis - The Seer  
Lieselotte or Stathis  |  Poenia & Sagyne  |  Harrowheart & Anna  |  Adia  | Felix & Jim | Evening Event | Isidor | Klaus

 

Comments

The Nyströms

[votivescholars]

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.

Hephaestia

[votivescholars]

Through the throng of people, a woman comes marching out with such explosive strides that it looks as though she’s just left a fight to look for a new one. Her black, curly hair looks ready to spring free of its bun, her make up is minimal, and her dress lacks the intricacy of many of the other Durant outfits, despite the purple sash that struggles with the speed she’s walking at. A comparatively pleasant, pristine blond woman with a far more retro style and no sash follows her. The Durant marches up to the stranger, stops dead, and looks them up and down. The Smith is looking for weapons.

The Triad - Archon, Lieselotte & Stathis

[votivescholars]

Between the chaperones, the constant company, the unique sash and the general aura of importance, the Archon is not difficult to pick out of the crowd. Anything and everything he could possibly want is brought to him, so he has no reason to move from the first room he entered. He stands, listening to people talk and talk and talk to him. Every so often he says something himself and, every single time, his small audience goes silent.

It's locked in this endless conversation that the Archon can be found, should anyone want to meet him.

The Priest

[votivescholars]

In the middle of all the voices, music, footfall and tinking of glasses, there is one room which is exceptionally quiet and eerily still. It is in this room that three statues stand. One is a woman with long, flowing hair who sits on a throne, holding a spindle between her fingers. Another is of a woman who is so excellently carved that the veil that covers her face does not hide her features. Behind both of these is another statue of a woman, who may also be three women. She has three faces and two arms hold torches while another arm holds a dagger and yet another has a snake wrapped around it. If a person stares for too long they may find themselves swearing they saw lips part, heads turn, or chests rise and fall in a breath.

The two veiled women from the ceremony stand either side of the statues, only moving to attend to guests. The priest focuses primarily on keeping the place as it should be. He lights incense, filling the air with the scents of frankincense, myrrh, and laurel. Every now and then he talks to someone looking to ask him questions, but when they leave, he stays.

Oraskis - The Seer

[votivescholars]

“Oop! Excuse me!” A white haired, middle aged man scuttles in past the Nexus guest, hunched over until he’s between a wall and the stranger, the former of which he flattens against and the latter he hides behind. After a second of looking exceptionally conspicuous, he asks, “Did she follow me?” He splutters apologetically before clarifying, “My wife. The shrewd woman with her hair so tight her face is pure white.”

Lieselotte or Stathis

[votivescholars]

To those who notice social patterns it's rather clear that Lieselotte and Stathis are taking turns chaperoning the Archon. Lieselotte plays the role of an elegant wife brilliantly, and Stathis takes her place when the appearance of strength is more useful. In a way it's more kind than annoying. They both get a chance to move through the crowd and talk to their many guests.

Upon Stathis' release, he almost always hunts down the nearest servant to replace his whiskey. When he can't find his preferred conversational partners, he opts for a comfortable chair with a view instead. He can almost always be found within eyeshot of the Archon, branded with his bright red, elaborately decorated sash.

Lieselotte on the other hand is more active. When given her cue to leave, she glides from the latest group to have descended upon the Archon and casts her eye for someone to greet. The newer guests are the most interesting. As soon as she spots someone she walks over with a warm, motherly smile and asks, "Are you enjoying the party?"

Poenia and Sagyne

[votivescholars]

Although Poenia has a wretched reputation for her passion for her work, and she is related to the fiery Isidor, she doesn’t rush off to see what havoc she can cause right away. For a good half hour she watches everyone flit past, thinking. When she does finally go to move, her brother sighs before excusing himself from his (currently pleasant) conversation to follow her. He looks like a prince in his sleek blue-grey suit, his chiseled jawline and his easy, confident stride. She looks like a curious, pretty girl in her dress that bounces with each half-hopping step as she scans for interesting people.

They approach the first Nexus guest she sees and though her eyes are bright and just a hint manic, she keeps her smile reserved. Her nails tap once against the wine glass clutched in her hands before she says, “Hello.”

Harrowheart and his Sister Anna

[westfallcorndog]

From the moment that Harrowheart and his sister, Anna, arrive on Earth, arm in arm, each of them loses all pretense of their former selves.

Anna, who took Runa's advice when shopping for a dress, arrives in a turquoise damask party dress that shows off her suntanned skin and is brightened by her blonde hair curled around her shoulders. She's a tall woman without much of a figure, but that's nothing a dress with a forced waistline can't fix. She holds a matching coinpurse in both hands and seems glad for something to keep her grounded. Normally a woman with a sense of dignity, she can't help but stare in awe and smile, starry-eyed, at everything she's seeing. A party like this... A castle full of the upper class, scholars, mages, servants in attendance to wait on them – No, her! It's like a dream come true, but better, really, because she's not sure she could have imagined something as wondrous as this evening.

Harrowheart, however, is quite the opposite. While normally he's the one to hang his mouth open and gawk at everything that surprises him, tonight he's tasked with a mission: Be serious, though friendly. Be powerful, yet approachable. Be himself, but a more mannerly self. Above all he must make a fantastic impression – or at the very least not a bad one. He's gone to great lengths to dress in the sort of outfit that King Anduin himself might have worn when he was Prince. By Earth standards he wouldn't be out of place in the Regency period with his high collars, large lapels on a dusky purple vest, and cream-colored slacks tucked into high, leather boots. A thick, leather scabbard is slung across his back to keep his runeblade close, yet hidden. Under the scabbard is a split, two-piece cape with darkly purple swords woven onto a lighter purple surrounding. A silvery metal shoulderplate is the only hint of armor on him, and in lieu of a tabard of the Ebon Blade he wears a purple cloth belt that drapes down the front of his legs. His cold hands are kept hidden beneath soft cloth gloves and bound to his wrists with thick, leather bracers. In his free hand he carries what is certainly a bottle of wine wrapped in purple cloth.

As Isidor leads them through the castle he wears a grimly serious expression, but his curiosity is unmistakeable in the way he hangs on her every word and takes in the scenery with quick motions of his head. While they wait for the ceremony to begin he sits stiffly, moving only to whisper with his overjoyed sister.

But when Viatorus first appears his facade immediately cracks. He smiles warmly, and there's even a hint of pride in his eyes, as if he were seeing one of his own brothers going through with this ceremony. He and his sister whisper happily between themselves until the man in purple arrives, at which time both of them remember their manners and return to silence. But their stoicism isn't meant to last, as Runa soon appears with her father and sister at her side. Anna squeezes Harrowheart's leg, as if he might miss Ingirun's entrance otherwise, and he watches with a broad smile. The kiss with which they seal their temporary union is too sweet to ignore, and both Weatherhills can't help but quietly clap for their friends.

Dinner isn't a difficult affair for the two of them, who spent a considerable amount of time studying etiquette since receiving their invitations. Cutlery is to be used outward, then inward. Elbows never touch the table. One piece of food is cut at a time, words are never spoken with food in the mouth, reaching is completely out of the question. The help is there to help, after all. Anna compliments every round of food before she takes her first bite and after her last, and Harrowheart keeps it (mostly) to himself that he'd have liked to bring his phone to photograph it all.

When it's time to give offerings to the goddesses the two of them present their gift: Inside the cloth sack is indeed a bottle of wine in a bipyramidal bottle with a strangely long neck. The dark liquid inside glows with a faint light and a not-so-faint magical energy. Arcwine, Harrowheart explains, directly from the fruit of a tree infused with the energies of the Nightwell, a font of tremendous arcane power. What he, of all people, did to procure it remains unsaid. It's a gift! You never tell what you paid for a gift. He does hope aloud, though, that one bottle is a fair gift for multiple goddesses. He jokes (with only a little regret after) that it might be part of the first meal they get to share together.

And then it's on to the party. Light, it's a free-for-all. There are no rules, no guides. One survives on their wits, tenacity, and willingness to kill make pleasant conversation with the upper crust. It's a notion that the well-read Anna isn't at all intimidated by; whether she knows Earth's culture or not, she knows she'll be able to entertain and be entertained with a little bit of bravery and a good attitude. She might even meet some fellow Nexus denizens as she goes along!

Harrowheart, though... He tries hard not to eyeball the alcohol passing by him and absolutely seeks Nexusgoers before Earth's stuffy mages. He's going to need a warm-up before he moves onto the heavy stuff.

[westfallcorndog]

Anna abandoned him and there he is, left standing, staring, looking like a blank-faced thrall awaiting orders in a rushing sea of chatting, rich breathers. So when someone is charging up to him, all fire and will, it takes him by surprise. Has he done something wrong? Is he offending her with his presence? He fucked up, didn't he? His thoughts swim with an anxiety that he tries not to show on his face. He keeps his feet planted but leans back as she approaches, until he finally can't keep his balance anymore and has to take a step back. With that his hard expression cracks into something more nervous, almost queasy.

He asks in a slow, dejected way, "Am I offendin' you somehow, Ma'am?" Because that's always it, isn't it? They're always offended by the dead.

[chiron_survivor]

Adia can do little more than thank Isidor for showing her to her seat, her wide eyes taking in everything around her. It’s beautiful. The palace, the gardens, the decorated gazebo. The fact that it is in France, a country similar to her home, is the icing on the cake.

Dressed in the green party dress she wore at the Halloween party, she tries not to feel inadequate. Everything and everyone around her is so fancy, like something out of a movie. She’s been to weddings and other formal events before, but nothing like this. She reminds herself that her hair is clean, as are her simple heels. She’s fine.

The ceremony begins and Adia forgets to be self-conscious, focusing instead on the procession of people who come to the gazebo. She gives Viatorus a bright, encouraging smile — you can do it, friend! Runa is easy enough to identify in her white dress, and wow, she is so pretty. Although she’s paying attention to the ceremony itself, in particular the mention of Greek gods, her gaze stays on the young couple. When they kiss, she smiles to herself. They look so sweet together; she really hopes that everything works out for them.

Dinner is a quiet affair for her. Food scarcity is a constant threat in the Fleet, even with the replenishing of their algae vats, so she eats everything, but slowly, not wanting to make herself sick. It’s all delicious, of course. She even savors the palate cleanser.

It’s after dinner that Adia’s nervousness returns. So. Many. People. And the gift she brought for the goddesses — a bouquet of yellow tulips — seems inadequate compared to what other people have left. Clutching her small purse in her hands, she finds a comfortable seat in the garden and hopes that she’ll eventually spot someone she knows.

[chiron_survivor]

Adia has been doing a fairly decent attempt at blending in with the background when the illusion is shattered by someone nearly bumping into her. "Oh, sorry!" she says, automatically taking the blame for their near miss. She blinks at his question, then takes a cautious look around. "Um... I don't think so? I don't see anyone who looks like that.. are you okay?" It's impossible not to be sympathetic towards someone else who is trying to hide in plain sight.

[votivescholars]

The woman spots Harrowheart's scabbard and her shoulders slack as she relaxes. She shakes her head at his question, straightens, squares her shoulders and asks, "May I see your sword?" She spots the faintly disapproving look of the woman beside her and takes this as a prompt to add, "Please."

[votivescholars]

"Oh good," he says with a relieved sigh when she gives the all clear. He's just about to take a sip of his drink when she asks if he's all right. The question is met with a wide, pleased smile. "All the better now." He goes to sip his drink again, but this time he interrupts himself. "Are you okay?"

[westfallcorndog]

Always say 'please' and 'thank you.' Isidor reminded him of that. But this woman didn't seem to remember it until her own Isidor gave her a look. Except... Wait a moment. The woman who hasn't yet spoken isn't wearing a red sash. That means they aren't sisters, though it would be a stretch to mistake them for that anyways.

Harrowheart only realizes how long he's been silently shifting his gaze from woman to woman until after he's done it. His stare bores a hole into the floor for a few seconds as he comes to the realization that he must look incredibly rude.

"You can see it," he says quietly as he reaches back and grabs the hilt. Before he draws his blade, though, he very seriously warns, "But you must not touch it."

The ground rules laid he pulls it from its scabbard. As it glides out there's a strange sound almost like a sigh or roar of a far-off crowd turned into the faintest whisper. He holds his large blade on the flat of both palms close to Hephaestia so that she can get a good look. Parts of it are trimmed in reddish gold and the light-colored blade edges are certainly steel, but the strange black alloy that makes up the 'head' of the blade is no Earth metal. For now no souls are allowed to reveal themselves between the prongs if the strange weapon, though they fight in vain to make their presence known in the rippling blue glow that shimmers against the metal.

The lights in the eyes of the skull at the base of the hilt flame to life when it feels watched by the woman, but when she looks away her partner might notice them dim. It performs for attention, apparently.

After allowing Hephaestia to see the blade on one side for a moment he turns it over and shows the back. There is no skull face on this side, and there are six foreign runes carved into the steel edges of the blade.

When Harrowheart is through holding it he simply lowers his hands, but the blade remains floating in the air. It spins slowly like a prized gem in an exhibit, and now and then when its face reappears there returns the whispered sound of a prolonged sigh.

Harrowheart watches Hephaestia and her partner for a few more silent seconds before he remembers to explain, "My runeblade...s? They used to be two axes, but they had to be reforged after one of 'em was destroyed."

[chiron_survivor]

She smiles back, relieved to hear it. At least until he asks her the same question. She fidgets with her purse, wishing she had bothered to grab a drink, or at least a glass of water. "Oh, um... sure, I'm fine. It's, um... it's a large party."

Should she introduce herself? This seems like the kind of party where you introduce yourself right away. "I'm Adia, one of Viatorus's friends from... out of town." Way out of town, judging by her American accent.

[votivescholars]

When he lays out the rules the scholar turns and gives her companion a wide, pleased grin, and then her entire being is put into observing the blade held out in front of her. At first she doesn't move as she hears that noise and sees the skull, but then she steps up closer to it. Far from be afraid of it, she almost looks too interested in the blade. She bends low to inspect it, and her fingers run along it just centimetres from the metal, taking in the energy it projects.

Her companion smiles politely (and a little apologetically) at Harrowheart, and fondly at the woman poring over the weapon.

With Harrowheart's explanation, the dark haired woman nods seriously. "This is a good evolution." She doesn't take her eyes off of the blade, though she's clearly speaking to Harrowheart. "Was it the same person who forged them first that reforged them? Were they the same person who enchanted them?"

"I'm Emily," the blond woman says, stepping forward to offer a hand to shake. "And this is Hephaestia."

[votivescholars]

"It is," he agrees cheerfully. It seems he doesn't immediately interpret how Adia feels about that.

The man's eye glaze over and his mouth opens and closes a little for a minute. "Adia… Adia!" His smile appears instantly and he offers a hand to give her a warm, excited handshake. "His scientist friend, yes, yes. He's told me all about you!" Leaning in he confesses, "Not actually all about you, that is… But he has talked about you! My name is Oraskis. I'm his cousin and bad influence."

[chiron_survivor]

She returns the handshake, her smile matching his warmth. It's Viatorus's cousin! The nice one. Her nerves relaxing, she's surprised and a little flattered that Viatorus mentioned her at all. "Yes, his scientist friend," she replies, noting with inner amusement that "scientist" is probably enough of a description to distinguish her from his other friends. She laughs softly at his little joke. "He's talked about you, too. I doubt you're a bad influence, he speaks of you very fondly."

[westfallcorndog]

When her hands get close to the blade he very nearly stops her, but he sees that she's wise enough not to make contact even though the unseen spark of its dark energies may well still be tempting at that short distance.

Emily's introduction takes him by surprise and he doesn't quite get to answering Hephaestia's questions before he extends his hand for a shake. Firm, but not too aggressive, and with a little smile to soften it. Tia gets a slightly harder version of the same shake. Something tells him she's a strong shaker of hands.

"It's nice to meet the both of you," he says with a respectful incline of his head. "My name's Harrowheart." His smile lingers a moment on Emily so that she doesn't feel forgotten when he returns his attention to Tia and her earlier questions.

"I don't think it was the same smith, but it coulda been? My original runeblades were created before we chose each other. These were remade by a forgemaster in Acherus, the Ebon Hold, the hall of my knight order. I'm not sure it's the smith who enchants it so much as the runeforge, which I think has a connection to the Shadowlands – a part of the afterlife – by the souls that flow through it." He laughs in quiet self-consciousness and with a shrug of one shoulder admits, "I don't know as much about it as I oughta. I swing the blades, I don't make 'em. But... You do?" And then he looks to Emily again and asks, "And what is it you do?"

[votivescholars]

"Oh, the best bad influence is one you like, isn't it?" He raises his glass pointedly before chuckling to himself and going to sip it. Whereupon he stops himself to say, "It is good to see his friends here in the right bodies… It's good to see he has friends here." For a minute he looks thoughtful, but then he's smiling at her. "Are you enjoying yourself?"

[chiron_survivor]

Thinking of some of the friends she's made in the Nexus, she concedes his point with a nod of her head, although she suspects that in this case, "bad influence" is in the eye of the beholder.

It takes her a moment to parse his words. "Oh... the body swapping. Yes, I'd heard about that. That must have been difficult for everyone involved." Especially Viatorus, although she never found out whose body he was stuck in. "I was very honored to be invited. I've only known Viatorus a short while, but he's been very kind to me. We have a lot in common."

Is she enjoying herself? Well, yes, she is right this moment, talking to such a friendly gentleman. But she still feels the unease of being in a large crowd of partygoers. "The ceremony was beautiful," she says instead. "I'm not from Earth, but we have some gods in common with yours. It was interesting to hear them mentioned."

[votivescholars]

"I'm a curator. But here I'm der Drache's second cautionary tale," Emily says with the smile of a punchline of a silent joke. "And Hephaestia is the Smith. Metalwork is her area of expertise." Leaning closer Emily lowers her voice very slightly and with no small amount of pride says, "She's exceptionally talented."

"We know who you are," Hephaestia tells him then. Her attention is still mostly on the blade. "Isidor told us about you. I was hoping you'd bring your weapons. She said your axes were impressive, but this is beautiful." Her hands go to hover again but she thinks better of it this time around and clasps them behind her back instead. "Work like this has all but died out here. This. This is a sword for killing. Can only undead work the forge?"

[westfallcorndog]

Cautionary tale? Two women, not sisters. Compliments and pride... He's smiling in harmless amusement when Emily whispers to him, but his mind is elsewhere grinding away at thoughts. It's only when he hears Isidor's name that he blinks and returns to the conversation at hand, smiling once more but this time humbly.

"She mentioned me?..." He tries to fight away a smile, because he can't appear too charmed, but it's so difficult in light of the good news. Somehow he hadn't expected that she might have told anyone about him in any capacity. To say it's a pleasant surprise is an understatement.

And that's when it hits him. There's a unique kind of realization that crosses his features as he looks from woman to woman. It is, without a doubt, the expression of a man who's suddenly privy to their situation. Certainly a look Emily and Tia have seen before. But when the understanding sinks in he's still smiling. Not a gloating smile, not an amused gawking, but the happy expression of a man who's seeing old acquaintances for the first time in years.

Still, he must remember his manners – or be reminded of them. Being called a 'sword for killing' causes the runeblade's runes to flash brightly and the eyes of the skull to flare to wild life. It's flattered, really! Harrowheart, stop daydreaming and get back in the conversation! With a little shake of his head and another half-dozen rapid blinks he returns his attention to Hephaestia and her question. "Hmm? Oh. That's... That's a real good question. I don't think anyone knows the answer, 'cause the livin' aren't allowed in Acherus. There are a few other runeforges around my world, but the undead there kill anyone who ain't one of them on sight. Next time I'm home, I'll ask. I'd say I'd get you some plans for one, if I could, but... Runeblades're dangerous weapons. I'd hate to help you create somethin' you might regret."

He takes his blade in one hand then and says with a hint of pride, "They appreciated your compliment, by the way. Ain't many folks in the in-between world where I met Viatorus that care about a blade and what it's made for. They don't hear that kinda sweet talk too often. Would you like to see somethin' special they can do?"

[votivescholars]

"Do you indeed? Very good, very good." Adia does not come across as the type of person who brags about anything, so to hear her admit a likeness to Viatorus tells the Seer an incredible amount about her whether she meant to or not. "He is very excited about your research centre. You bring joy into his life, how could he not invite you to be his guest?"

"As it is to hear that you share even some of them. Our gods are mostly old and forgotten, but..." He gestures around them with a warm smile. "We are very fond of keeping the old and forgotten close." The chuckle that rumbles in his throat is almost more a hum. "I hope we honoured your gods here too today."

[votivescholars]

The bashfulness in Harrowheart's reaction widens Emily's smile and she nods. "She did."

Harrowheart isn't the only one whose attention is drawn to the wild flare of the sword's eyes, both women turn to it, but Tia's curiosity remains steadfast. Even while she listens to Harrowheart's every word it's clear that the wheels of her mind are turning. Whatever it is she wants to say, however, is lost in the face of his question.

"Yes," Tia says immediately. She even steps back to give him some space and puts her hands on her hips to properly survey whatever comes next. Then she gestures to him (with an open palm, of course). "Please."