The First Dark Congress

[KBR 2046]

Faenor would look to Chrodraeos with a smile before bowing a sincere bow and saying "Greetings my lord." ((Will post skin on original post once I am home))

[Drak3 442]

                   

 

 Entering through the spanning hallway of the Dragur library would be that of a human woman. Jet black hair that curled with an untamed flow being met with a pale skin complexion. Garbed in worn and weathered leather with cloth. Both materials sporting small abrasions and tears along where each have been stitched together with multiple passing's of a needle. With a single cast of her vision, she'd take in all that are present before moving to an empty seat without a word spoken to any.

[Swgrclan 2682]

Standing at the center of the place of congress, the entrance of every attendant caught the critical gaze of the sage Vapor; the faded, violet eye seeming as if dissecting those present, and always sure to check the persons of every individual who came; always failing to trust the agreements of his enemy, always suspecting they've some weapon or means to harm or another. To those who would come to address the elder, his response would be thus, and his stare unblinking:

To Savet, he gave but a nod and made a sharp gesture toward one of his strange, cloaked followers-- the guides of those who came to the elven ruin, those who smelt of dust and age and gravelike things; the motion made with the intention to silently command the servant to take the returned tome in his stead. "Upon the shelves again," Vapor would murmur to his gloomy bookholder as Savet would find his way away.

To the gothic maiden, he initially casts an uncertain eye upon her before realizing in a moments' notice the nature of her being, and therefore "her" magics; tipping his head respectfully to his fellow ally, offering no greeting beyond such as she would come to linger amid the others.

To Naruntah, Vapor whispers words unable to be heard at their given distances; but should the Herald of Umbrage look in time, he would notice his fellow herald recite the last part of their adage to him in honorable greeting.

And finally, to the transient, a similar glance would be sent toward her person -- either as if he detected her pertubement, or if his wandering gaze falling upon her in such soon time to her own being coincidence.

The outward statements of good Savet brought a dull, humorless grin to the sullen expression of the Ember sage; the older man's inquiry was apparently much appreciated. "I called this congress, by tradition of the Way of Man, under the premise of enacting the first peaceful means to settling issues between those aligned with mortality, and Aengudaemonica. Never have I beheld such an event in my time -- only warfare, in which chaos is stirred between the fervent sides through the effort of eachother's annihilation. Perhaps, by the end of this Congress, that the conflict of yore may be corrected, and agreements may be made to please both the vassals of Aengudaemonica and those whom seek to bring mortal man to it's once great form again."

His voice sounded off through the chamber, strong and terse, but sagacious; if not cold in addition. "It is not the meeting we want; it is the meeting we need. For without it, eventually what comes of conflict between light and dark will bring an end to this world entirely."

Handing his staff to another cloaked servant, Vapor continued. "It seems most, if not all of those I have invited, have come; therefore, the first duty of the congress is to determine current troubles to dissuade havoc easily able to be brought about by grudges. I ask this now: who of what side has been dishonored by the other, and why is this so?"

His gaze was particularly cast toward the druids and clerics present, as if expecting them to speak first.

[Harri 4815]

In a dimly lit corner of the old library, the steel clad figure of an old Orenian soldier lurked - his armour worn, scratched and rusted. His arms folded across his chest tightly, he silently leant back and watched the visitors enter through the slit of his battered helmet.

 

He barely shifted from against the wall, save the occasional 'dislike' for someone he'd had the displeasure of facing off against - shown through a tightening of his gauntlets, accompanied with a quiet squeal of metal. He especially glared over towards the Druii that had gathered, giving an uncomfortable seeming shrug of his shoulders. He seemed to take pride in the adjustment of his tattered white tabard, brushing whatever specks of dust that might land on the golden cross stitched into it off. 

 

Drauch quietly watched and listened to the following discussions.

 

[Salvo 1852]

Raziel guards Drauch's back.

[KBR 2046]

Would look to the Druids and clerics, quill in hand awaiting their answer.

[Ventusyr 233]

As the opening statements finish, three figures enter into the Northern Wing, fashionably late. They approach the gathered, finding an opening where they may stand without being blocked by folk in front of them.

 

Standing very slightly in the front is an aged mali'aheral clad in high-collared dark robes and ebony plate armor. His straight, formal posture and high cheekbones typical of one raised in Haelun'or clashes with a horribly-disfigured face, the right half a mess of scar tissue and his nose a mere hole, giving the priest a skeletal appearance. His expression seems distant, as though not fully concentrating on the inhabitants of the library.

 

Behind him stands two elderly folk, one bearing the bright plate armor of the Chantry with a golden symbol on his tabard, and the other in a simple brown coat and suit. Their gray, bearded faces gaze upon the gathered with aged eyes.

 

The aheral crosses his arms, listening to what the assembled have to say.

[youdude 104]

Lo and behold, the old tome was returned to a shelf as instructed, though possibly in the wrong section; Savet hadn't bothered to check.
 

As the small speech of Vapor began, the platinum-haired Mali listened with a growing frown; Expecting something a tad more eye-opening than listening to the complaints of folk, and the inevitable bickering this will bring. But still, the effort of showing up was made, and he wasn't one to leave. Fear of offending the more... Intimidating attendees might have played a factor in his decision to stick around as well. But, he wasn't above reaching into the confines of that grey tattered greatcoat, producing a metallic hip-flask of mystery liquor. With an eager motion of his thin gloved fingers, the elf uncorked the container and brought it to his still-smiling lips, indulging in a few deep gulps. Suddenly, the tension in the room seemed more bearable, and a slight shift of expression signified the transition of a smiling mask, into an expression of genuine content. He lowered himself along the wall, and sat on the cold marble tiling, drinking away while listening with half-hearted effort.

[TeaLulu 1783]

A poorly stifled giggle comes from the hooded transient seated at the desk by the door at the entry of the men bearing the cross of Lorraine. With the meeting beginning she shifts her body to face the long table to her left; With her right arm rested on the table, quill in hand, she begins scribbling upon the innards of a large, open book, scarcely glancing upon it as she does so. When silence overtakes the room, her right hand rests. 

 

Her left hand falls idle to her lap, at which the elderly owl previously seated upon the desk hops into the palm of her hand. He ruffles his feathers, giving a discontent 'hoot' at the spectral being seated to his left.

[Farryn 860]

The hooded figure turns to the new arrivals and freezes, her eyes widening. Then slowly, she would move her hood back a bit, allowing now a clear view of her face. Elvira Mantisuku looks to her three fellow clerics from where she is sat, utmost relief plastered on her face.

Hesh... you three came... and you all look alright... thank Tahariae...

She sighs softly. I trust you three to sort this all out...

[youlovesocks 652]

Jack, forgotten bastard son of Han "The Bitchfit" walks into the library, a lazy irritated look in his eye

[HurferDurfer1 2978]

The decrepit figure of the old man Coltaines Wick hobbles around muttering about damned spooks needing to get a job.

[dandan1350 479]

A further one makes attendance in late manner, clad in similar plate to a previously arriving cleric with a golden embroided tabard over his form. The hulking man considered a behemoth to some due to his unnatural height ungracefully made his entrance to the meeting without word and took up his place on the outskirts of the gathering. 

 

His grizzled and marred features stretching into a frown as he took the sights in of those he gathered with but made no attempt to speak against it in hopes to bring the least attention to himself possible. 

 

[EpicSmith 56]

 

The druid clears his throat, going to speak for the first time, his advisors whispering a few words in his ears before he begins.

 

"On behalf of the druidic order, I say that although we have had less than hospitable relationships with some of today's attendees in the past, we have put such grudges behind us. We also apologise in advance for any here who believe they have been wronged by our order."

 

Henry nods once, signalling he's done talking.

[Ventusyr 233]

 

The dark-clad cleric glances at Ivanus as his armored form enters into the library, and his distant expression shifts slightly, his brow furrowing. As the druid finishes their statement, he looks back to the assembled. After a small exhale, he addresses them:

 

"I suppose my Order's conflict with the Covenant has become public knowledge at this point. Our chief qualms are with them and the fact they hold one of our Sisters hostage. I have already issued my apologies to the adherents of Xion who do not use their power to harm the innocent, and some discussion has occurred between us. Those that wield taint in the pursuit of personal power over the Innocent... They have none of my sympathy, and will receive no apologies from my Order.

 

"I have no further qualms with those of the Dark," finishes the elf, putting audible emphasis on the last word. His expression remains unchanged.