Briefing: Who's Dominion Is It Anyways

Briefing day.

Periodically, the Guild of Explorers holds general meetings for its membership. These general meetings are a chance to bring everyone into line abouit potential threats and possible situations they might have to contend with. Adventurers don't always need to get mixed up in politics, but often times, it's bound to happen. Ensuring everyone is informed is at least an opportunity to reduce the chacne of an adventurer-caused international incident.

These things have happened before, after all.

People are moving into the briefing chamber, taking seats.

Amongst those taking a seat is that of a heavily scarred mul'neissa woman. Taking off a part of shades, their shining gaze is cast about the room and its occupants before sitting down. Aryia adjusts her verdant buckle jacket before cracking open a journal, her face set in a concentrated scowl. Or, perhaps that's a permanent feature about her.

She had at least one intention this meeting: get involved in this before it gets worse.

Iskandar arrives early enough to have his choise of seats, and he selects a cushy armchair off to one side. There's enough free space in front of the chair he chooses, that he can stretch his legs to full length. He simultaneously sinks low, to half-reclining position in the chair. One upper arm rests atop the armwrest and by simply bending his arm at the elbow, his hand is perfectly positioned to rest his head against it. Truly a veteran of indolent slouching.

Mikilos may have a vested interest in international incidents and avoiding causing any more of them. In any case the grey robed wizard takes a spot by the side of the room where he can see, but isn't likely to block the view of others. He nods politely to those he recognizes upon making eye contact.

Having recently heard tale of Alexandria possibly entering into some kind of Truce with Charn, it was inevitably for Harkashan to show up. Still a somewhat 'recent' departure from Am'shere, the fiery Sith-makar is a fairly new face to the Adventurer's Guild. It's far more likely than any other Sith-Makar showing up might recognize him. If not by looks, then perhaps by reputation.

The Death-Singer has been alive for well over a hundred years, and across the many demenses of the Sith-Makar, many have been buried by this particular crimson one. The lava-rocks that are attached to his garb are a particular tell-tale sign that makes this one stand out.

He's dragged Rune with him, bidding to her that it's important that he goes to this meeting because of the Makari's history with this particular empire. So, as the gathering begins, he makes his way to one of the seats, picking one without back-support so that he doesn't have to worry about sticking his tail through any holes, and leans onto the table with this /grave/ look on his face.

With it being closer to the evening, lights have been lit up. Be it flames or arcane light coming off the walls, reflecting enough across his scales to give understanding to the choice in his name. Though no doubt, elder Sith-makar who happened to know him before the Awakening would know his scales didn't always show this beautifully.

In recognizing the joining of Iskandar, his head bows politely. And a similar gesture goes towards Mikilos and any others who might join.

The figure of a dark-haired Half-Sil follows a step behind the larger form of Harkashan. Rune had only recently returned to Alexandros, after having been absent for quite some time. She is not quite so flashy as her companion, with most of her attire hidden beneath a dark cloak. While getting up to date on information and threats is obviously important, the way that she settles next to Harkashan suggests that the messenger and sometimes Adventurer may be here more as support than anything else.

As she settles in, the girl draws out a necklace from beneath her cloak, the object dangling from the end of it appearing to be some sort of puzzle. Her fingers toy with it in an unobtrusive way, as if fidgeting with it were a way of dealing with anxiety in an as of yet unknown set of circumstances.

Malik manages to make an appearance, heading into the room as others pile inside. He's not far in front of Seldan, giving the man a tight smile as he eyes the room, noting how many people are already present. Looking around, he spots a group of empty chairs, offering a silent, stony glare to a man on his way to the same empty set -- enough to convince him to look elsewhere, it seems. Pulling three of the chairs a bit off to one side, he sits down in one, waiting for the rest of his group to make their way in and get settled as his eyes scan the room once more.

Jacob had missed the last meeting, purely because he was on a taken job elsewhere at the time. But he was here now. He doesn't quite take a seat, but he does sit towards the back of the room, his hands clasped in front of him, and his eyes ever forward, a determination written on his face. A new face to the Guild relatively, he's trying to become far more active than he ha sbeen previously.

He keeps his attention on the front of the room, his hand flexing and relaxing over and over again. Much of him is covered in the robes of the Serriel Priesthood, but flashes of armor shine between bits and pieces.

Just behind Malik and looking as though he is freshly in off of the road, with muddy boots, cloak, and robe tails but eerily clean armor that is quiescent by the mana lamps and firelight in the room, Seldan in full war gear follows, his demeanor suddenly reserved, quiet, and focus as he steps into the crowd. He glances back at the third behind him, clearly waiting for them to join the other two.

Schara was quite punctual in arriving for the brieing, in fact, the bronze figure with a fur cloak was already occupying one of the seats close to the door. They already had a large notebook flipped open in front of them, and a pen held in one hand poised over it, while they looked around and waited to find who seemed to be giving this lecture. They kept flipping the fountain pen around while they were waiting, and the artificer stopped to look at most of the people filing in.

At Seldan's side is a shadow. A shadow of blue scale and some height. The shadow wears the white vestments of a cleric of Daeus, a blue cloak thrown over his shoulders and a tall quarterstaff held in his hands more as if he intends to use it as a walking stick than as if it's a weapon. The sith-makar - for it is indeed a sith - bears crystal limbs of pure clear color on his left side. Both arm and leg perfectly formed and fitted to him. They are remarkably beautiful, and he does nothing in this moment to hide them. This then is the sith known as Zeke, a familiar face and reputation in the temple district by those in need of healing or those who have received it. He inclines his head politely to those assembled. "Peasssce on your nessstsss."

Why have one scowling mul'niessa when there can be two? Aya's is not so scarred, though still firm as she moves through to find a seat. Gestures are made to greet and acknowledge those known: a nod here, a gesture there. Charn is the topic of the day, and an important one, but that doesn't necessarily make it a favorite topic.

Some might recognizes Orvald as the same fellow who gave the last briefing. Officious and in well tailored and comfortable looking robes, he's moving towards the lectern at the heart of the briefing room so that he can speak.

"Welcome, everyone. I'm pleased to see so many of you taking these briefings seriously. Unfortunately, with regards to Charn's inner workings, what we know is vastly outstripped by the amount that we don't and that's tonights subject: recent events in Charn, and how to handle them if you, as a duly contracted employee with the Guild of Explorers, might be called to handle them. First, I'd like to begin with a little bit of history to offer some background, particularly for those from far flung corners of our world." LIke the Lizardfolk present, for example.

As the briefing starts, Seldan, who had gone mildly unfocused sitting between Zeke and Malik, sharpens up and listens closely.

"Peace on your nest." Harkashan instinctively replies to the Sith-Makar at Seldan's side. He considers them for a moment - the crystaline limbs in particular. Notably, Harkashan doesn't bear the same kind of hiss as most of his Sith-makar kin. Or rather, it's still there, but it's heavily surpressed. Tell tale signs of someone who may take up the role of a Speaker.

His attention is drawn by Orvald however, and he quiets in favor of listening to the official. At the mention of explaining Charn to those from 'far flung corners', there's an instinctive desire to answer with a biting retort. Something along the lines of 'we have suffered enough to know our background with the Charn'. But that isn't the point here. There are outside views that are more important here.

Still, someone like Zeke or Rune, who are intimately familiar with the subtleties of Sith-makar bodylanguage may be more capable of telling the irritation in his tail for a moment, before it relents.

Aryia idly writes down some information in her journal, eyeing each face, new and old, that walks in, a faint nod given towards them. Her fellow mul'neissa gets a wave and a pat of the seat beside her in invitation.

Upon seeing Seldan across the way, she straightens up a bit. Last they talked, it... wasn't pretty. She wasn't intent on apologizing, but hopefully her presence here would indicate a willingness to action.

Same speaker, it seems. But, she's just as focused, even if she may be familiar with old Charneth affairs.

Zeke, not unlike Harkashan tenses at the mention of Charn and its 'history'. His eyes flicker to his fellow sith, noticing the discomfort there and nodding to himself. Otherwise however he offers no comment. He is not a speaker after all. He is a shaman.

Malik sits up a bit straighter as the other man starts talking, though some of the reactions of the people in the room manage to get his attention. He looks past Seldan a bit, curious about something there, then turns his attention back to the speaker, a small smile on his face as his eyes twinkle a bit.

Iskandar can't quite surpress a start at the name Charn. He's been hearing it everywhere lately. Or so it seems. The Jotunn's sitting a little straighter in his chair and more at attenion...for a few moments at least. When Orvald explains they are going to start with History? Iskandar sinks back into his chair once again.

In the moment of quiet before the meeting begins, Rune continues to flit attention between the object she is fidgeting with and those who are entering. As Jacob enters, she offer as a half-smile to the Cleric, inclining her head towards him. Her eyes also briefly settle on the form of Schara. At first glance, they appear to be some kind of war-golem, and that is curious enough for her, but the girl is not quite able to discern much more than that at a quick glance. No, it is Zeke who gets a flat out /stare/.

Rune nudges Harkashan in the arm and motions her head towards the blue-scaled one with the crystaline limbs. She doesn't speak up though, as Orvald begins to speak. This has Rune's attention shifting, listening with a curious expression, even as her hand quietly flicks a piece of the puzzle-box back and forth.

Welcomed by Orvald, Jacob bows his head to the speaker.

It was good to learn about the events in Charn and how it applies to the Guild members. Rather than laugh or snort or start, he maintains a serious look in his eyes. He doesn't possess as much knowledge of the Sith-Makar as he might like, so the body language of the species is beyond his knowledge, much to his regret.

Yet, he slowly turns his eyes to Rune, giving her a warm, brilliant smile and an incline of his head. He subtly approaches where she sits next to Harkashan. "I trust you both are well." He mutters silently to the pair of them.

Then he's silent, keeping his eyes on Orvald.

Finally able to discern who seemed to be leading the briefing, Schara quickly begins scrawling out the speech, while on the other side of the book, they stop for various notes on the matter. Such fascinating insights such as 'They have pet skeletons?' 'Don't accept a dinner invite from someone from Charn', 'Either eat people or enslave them.'. Clearly the ideas of someone who had most of their knowledge on the area come from old wive's tales, which often did have a certain shred of truth to them.

"Our history with Charn begins with the Sorceress and Crown Wars. During its wars with Myrddion, Charn invaded Alexandria as a vital port city and secured it for their interests. Our central position on the world map along the Inmost Sea made it a vital necessity. Over time, Myrddion recognized this, and began pushing to liberate the city from this invading force, aided by our local resistance efforts such as the Phalanx Falcis. Things would change when the sorceress Witch Queen, Altima, declared her independence of Charn and ruled over the city on her own. Myrddion continued its effort to liberate us for the same reason Charn had invaded: a vital port city. They too would occupy us, for ten years, in the hopes we might join *their* empire."

Mikilos shifts at the mention of the Witch Queen, but stays quiet. There's much more that could be added, thousands of people had there entire life story in those few events. But few are really relivant to this briefing.

Hearing a version of the tale that wholly differed from what he knew as a boy, Seldan's eyebrows drift towards his hairline, but he says nothing, choosing instead to listen.

Zeke tries his best to ignore the attention that is paid to him. He really does, but it's hard not to notice when someone is staring at you. He sits very straight beside Seldan and tries not to move. If he doesn't move; he might go unnoticed. He doesn't respond at all to the history-telling. To him it is unimportant really. The things that are important are likely to be stepped around during this little briefing.

At Rune's behest, Harkashan does look Zeke's way again for a moment, but without knowing what Rune wishes from him, he just touches her leg for a moment and nods at her. He'd be sure to try and get an introduction with Zeke later -- he knows she loves meeting the unusual sorts with interesting stories.

And Zeke looks like he must have an interesting story.

As Jacob gets near, Harkashan lifts his head a bit and tilts it to the side. Trying to get a better look at him, before turning away again and remaining focused on Orvald. Listening to their history of being invaded.

He is not surprised that the Softskins ended up helping one-another for their own purposes, rather than to fight against a common enemy. So, he waits for this meeting to get to the Now. After all... the past... the past is just not as important.

Aryia continues scribbling down, this time new information- rather, historical information. One brow quirks, an ear twitches. New to her. The murmurings get idle, curious glances, but her attention is mainly focus on the speaker.

Iskandar, now back in his slouching posture with head leaning against one hand, is perfectly positioned to rub his forehead in weariness. But this also provides a bit of concealment for a furtive glance around. Didn't the Guild used to serve alcohol, like a tavern...? No, wait - adventurers had to get it for themselves, from some other room. Iskandar's hopeful expression fades as his gaze shifts back to cast a baleful look at the crowd of adventurers already present and listening. He tries to weigh the risk of getting up and possibly loosing his place, against sitting through without a drink.

Malik continues watching in silence, for now, though his gaze moves between his two companions regularly.

Rune doesn't answer Jacob out loud, but she does offer a silent nod. She sets her eyes around again, realizing that there are others who are writing down notes. It's at that moment that she tucks the puzzle away and rummages for a few pieces of paper. Most of the pages look travel worn at the edges, but at least she still has some materials on her. For now, Rune keeps her head down and jots some notes in neat handwriting.

Schara continues their scribblings as the briefing continued, occasionally stopping to jot down another thought or correct a theory that they had with the new information. It was different hearing about these things from Alexandria, as what they knew was tinged by where she heard it, with the most common being a general sort of apathy to Alexandria's predicament.

"It seems they were all very concerned with the place of Alexandria, and not the people living there." The artificer sighs in a low, somewhat static-filled voice.

"That's correct enough. The Myrrish considered us 'long lost cousins'. A more benign paternailism." Orvald shrugs his shoulders.

"But that's the historical account. Today, Charn is not the power it was. It's ecnomoy is struggling, it's most accessible resources depleted, it's fields poisoned and famine a threat. It remains in a state of perpetual warfare with its enemies. But something strange seems to be afoot there, particularly as of late. We have reason to believe the Church of Taara is struggling within its borders. Priests and priestesses of Taara have gone missing from their places of power, and others have gone silent. While she had seemed ascendant, that does not seem to be any longer the case."

This is where Seldan, who had been looking between Malik and Zeke during the lecture, sits up. Although his expression remains steady and sober, it takes on a new focus.

Now /that/ got Aryia's attention. It lines up with some information she recieved a while back. She leans forward, attentive. Mul'neissa tending to have a personal interest in the dealings of the Dark Lady. Still, she couldn't help but allow herself a slight smirk in approval of the downfall.

Zeke too seems to straiten a little. Like he expected the history of Charn was... glossed over, but he doesn't complain. They've finally come to the point of this meeting. His eyes flicker toward Seldan and Malik the later of whom is looking at him and he nods to the man before turning his green eyes on Orvald.

Jacob listens carefully about the Sorceress and Crown wards and the wars with Myrddion. How Charn invaded Alexandria and held tight in it's tight fist. Jacob doesn't interrupt or cause any disruptions. The look Harkashan gives him earns a slight smile, and Rune's acknowledgement is enough. He stays silent, apparently committing the information to memory considering he's not writing this down.

But now he seems deeply concerned. "Missing?" Jacob had seemed to look tense when he hears of the fate of the Church of Taara.

"Priests of the Dark Gods are still priests, and still serve gods," Malik says aloud. "It would take a particular kind of power, or stupidity, to start a wholescale assault on a church."

Aya seated herself adjacent to Aryia and has listened quietly. The mention of Taara waning is not a surprise, but it does prompt a comment. This means it holds her interest. Perhaps to her credit, she limits that comment to a slient gesture to Aryia.

Iskandar listens for a moment and then ventures slowly, "And even if so, wouldn't this be a good thing? Normally if one power wanes it means then that another is waxing, and in equal measure. Surely anything that arises in that blighted land would be an improvement over Taara?"

Mikilos straightens, hesitating a moment before speaking. "It's worth noting that while Charn holds many Taarain clergy, necromancers, and vile warlords, the average person is just that. An average person. They may have been raised in a culture of evil, but they themselves could have fit in perfectly well in Alexandros, had the location of their birth been different. A change in national powers seldom happens without strife, and it's usually the common man who suffers most."

Taara. "The False Hope..." The Sith-Makar speaks of that one with a bit of a disgusted hiss.

"I was not aware that one was important within the walls of Charn. The ones met on the battlefield oft worshipped different gods." Harkashan remarks, after which he inquires with Orvald; "What's the Alexandria's interest in the disappearance of the False Hope's people? Certainly, Charn is cruel enough that they are simply eliminating a group they consider too weak."

There's a rather obvious bit of a snarl coming from him as he speaks of them. There is likely no kind words to be found within Harkashan towards them.

The more recent events in Charn is the point where Rune's notes stop being a history refresher and begin to be more of an update on current events. This is where her quill halts and she looks up, listening more intently and letting her eyes flit from person to person, especially as others begin to speak up and add to the dialogue. The quill taps once, and then stills at the sound of a snarl beside her. Her eyes look from Harkashan around to the others, her expression showing concern at the unsettling situation.

Schara looks down at her notes, and the artificer pauses, looking down at their notes, and tilting their head. "I'm not sure I get it. Are outside forces poisoning their fields, or are people inside of Charn doing that?" They wonder aloud. "Even if there is a lot wrong with the place, I can't say I like the idea of people starving."

"Alchemical and industrial waste is one reason," remarks Orvald to Schara's question, "Overfarming is another. They've done considerable damage to the soil just out of their own policy, from what I understand. And no, we don't like it either. Stawrving people do desperate things. They launch wars, for example, which is going to bring us to another point here soon," he adds, then nods to Malik. "That's right, and that's why its especially concerning. I don't think its a war against the church of Taara, per say. I think it may be factional, but I'm not sure."

In the back, an black-feathered Egalrin sits up straight. When did he get here? A bit noticable, now that he's drawing attention to himself.

"Yes," he croaks, "let us speak of war. Let us speak of the eternal, divine justice that will be meted out upon Charn, forevermore, by blade and talon. Let us speak of why we have been told to *wait* and to *wait* and to *wait."

Aryia nods along, writing in her journal as she flicks her attention to Aya's gestures next to her. She squints, casting a gaze about the crowd before giving the other mul'neissa a vague gesture of agreement and understanding.

The hows and whys of war are understood, and the woes people bring up were one thing. But the egalrin gets her to turn around and stare. Hey... they bring up a good point! She turns back

to the speaker, it clear she wished to echo the same question.

This is enough for Seldan to pivot in his chair and turn to study the new speaker with intent focus. So fascinated is he that he cranes his head, studying the newcomer with considerable interest. He pushes an unruly lock of hair away from his hairline, the headband he wears refusing to confine it, then looks back at the speaker. "If this be what I believe it to be, there is good reason. Say on."

Harkashan lets out a big huff of a sound when the avian speaks. The idea of taking the battle to the Charn is something that no doubt, is something he would love to bring back to Am'shere as a Speaker. But is this going to be that easy?

Especially with the Truce that is planned?

And why use this as the rather odd trigger for deciding to move?

Rune will no doubt pick up on his discomfort and excitement both. Anxious energy surrounding him that she's not seen before on him.

Zeke's attention is momentarily drawn again to Harkashan. "Thisss one mussst agree with Malik. To attack, take, and manipulate the clergy of a country issss... dangerousss. It may be easssy to sssay 'they are evil' ssso it doess not matter, but that isss not the cassse. Much ass we might wissh it to be." Zeke sighs here, then shifts uncomfortably having drawn attention to himself by speaking. There is more he might say, but that was difficult enough.

Schara stops, turning to the new voice to quickly scribble in a note on the change of speaker. "I thought we were just talking about these all being recent developments in Charn? How much waiting is being done if it's recent, and why are do you want to go to war so much that you're impatient about it?" They wonder. "I don't like that, this is already, well it seems like something beyond the scope of some adventuring guild to begin with, I guess?"

Jacob seems to frown deeply. "Divine justice will be sought out on charn. Of that, there is little doubt. But even in a war of holy vengeance, the ones who suffer most are not the enemy, but the people caught in between. I weep for them, despite the darkness that troubles their lands." Jacob frowns, crossing his arms over his chest and his head lowers. He nods once to Zeke, apparently agreeing with him. "It's not something to rush into, either way."

There is a twitch of one half-sil ear as Rune tries totake in so many voices speaking on the topic all at once. The mixed feelings from those she calls companions and friends certainly adds another undertone to everything. "Desperate people do desperate things." She agrees. With a glance towards Jacob, the messenger leans forward a little, as if she were uncomfortable pressing her back against the chair in that moment. Rune isn't one to jump to immediate action, especially when there are so many variables at play. So, with only those brief words spoken, she quiets again, trying to get a better understanding of their next steps from far more experienced hands.

"Pfah! We will descend from the mountains and drive them from the filthy lands they squat upon and claim what must be rightfully our's in the name of the Gods," says the black-feathered Egalrin.

"I am Tzikalck, Talon of War, Slayer of the Ten, and I have the blood of scores of usurpers upon my talons. I ask you why you fear the one you call 'Griever' so much that we should delay our war against the usurper peoples once again."

"I'm sorry, but ...who in the blazes are you talking about?" says Orvald, taken aback by their apperance and words, to say nothing of their aggressive posturing.

Tziklack flutter his wings, the charms attached to their tips glittering in the light. His own clothes are simple, but the decorations are more elaborate, easily.

This time, Seldan stands up fully, positioning himself between the Talon and Orvald. "Peace, Talon of War. Your talons are mighty indeed, and yet is it your eyes and your discretion that shall serve you against this one." Where Orvald is taken aback, the fair-haired man is steady as a rock, his gaze even, his words low. "I am Seldan Padaryn, of the Dreamer's Silver Guard. I know more of your enemy, but know this: he bears an artifact that allows him to unmask all deception, does he turn his eyes to a thing. Speak of him and you shall draw his eyes, and by that shall your war plans be unmasked. If you would learn more, you may find me at the Seeress' Temple."

Aryia can't help but roll her eyes at the divine justice. It's justice, plain and simple. Even more so, as the egalrin is given a squint. But the mention of the 'Griever' gets her brows to perk up, and she's attentive. Seems like she knows about this 'Griever'.

Which, her attention promptly flits over to Seldan. A thumbs up is thrown his way, clearly interested in this endeavor. Enough so to deal with being in the Dreamer's grounds.

Zeke seems alarmed by Seldan's sudden rise and he shakes his head subtly, wishing that he could like Seldan's mate, convey pure thought to the paladin. It is a fanciful fleeting thought however and he lowers his voice, whispering instead to the paladin, rising just enough to be heard by that one and yet quiet enough that only parts of what he says can be heard by others. "-ssst thissss-?"

Harkashan remains quiet when Tzikalck speaks, for it is Seldan that brings the most important knowledge. Plans unmasked by speaking of someone. A form of scry of the mind?

"I fear some of this is lost on me. Can you speak in more detail?" The Sith-makar simply inquires.

Malik raises an eyebrow as Seldan stands, giving a slow shake of his head. "I suppose it was too much to hope..." Still, he catches Seldan's eye, gives a nod, and leans over to Zeke, whispering something low.

The lifting of voices and the aggression from the Egalrin have some tension forming in Rune's muscles. Her fingers twitch the quill once before taking a few additional notes. Things are obviously getting heated and that seems sign enough for her to roll her scroll up and tuck it away in her pack. With Seldan rising as well, he has her looking that much more unsettled by the whole situation. Her eyes settle on him as she mouths 'Silver Guard' to herself. The Half-sil doesn't seem quite able to sit still, shifting to pull one leg up to her chest in an almost defensive posture.

"I'm sorry -- what did you say?" says Orvald to Seldan, gawking at him for a moment. He's blanched.

Schara really wasn't sure what to say to the posturing, and all the artificer does is stare at the egalrin for a long moment, or possibly stared, before they returned to their note taking. It was one of the times that Schara was glad for a helmet hiding any and all expressions.

Mikilos glances between Seldan and Orvald, mildly surprised. At Orvald.

"Tzikalck, Talon of War." Jacob remarks. "You assume it is fear rather than hesitance to enter into a conflict. I do not know who this 'Griever' is." Says a Vanguard of Serriel's faith, Jacob seems slightly tense. "Yet, all the same, we require more informa-" He turns his eyes to Seldan, raising a brow as if shocked by what he's said. He notices Harkashan inquiring similar and he clears his throat perhaps a tad as things seem to be escalating in importance with each passing moment. Rune's defensive posture has a single fingertip gently tapping her shoulder, as if to convey a comfort, before returning his hand to himself. She's surrounded by friends. His eyes shift between Orvald, Seldan, and this Talon of War. "Serriel guide us." He mutters to himself.

"Naught of consequence, Master Orvald," Seldan turns towards the speaker with a formal bow and a polite smile. "Please, continue. The Talon of War speaks of internal matters of no consequence to Alexandria itself." He turns his gaze for a moment on the Talon, shooting the bird what he hopes is a quelling look. His eyes flick from face to face present, searchingly. "I do not wish to take up Master Orvald's valuable time with such trifles. Those who are curious may seek me at the Dreamer's Temple, privately."

With that, he re-seats himself. "Please. Go on."

Zeke silently follows to his own seat. His eyes on Jacob and the Talon of War. He silently shakes his head and says nothing.

The Talon stares at Seldan a moment, then slowly lowers themselves back into their seat.

"Mmmn," is his hummed response.

Orvald blinks his eyes once, "Yes, uhm... relating ot Charn, there is the matter of a missing priestess of Taara within our own territory. Resolving that would be helpful, to ensure c-comity," he stumbles over himself.

Aryia glances between The Talon and Seldan, her attention resting on the latter for a moment overlong before nodding slowly. Scribble scribble scribble. Writing down that private meeting in her agenda.

Now looking to Orvald, Aryia had an inkling of who it was, but she writs a word down in large letters and holds it up so the speaker and the others can see it. Simple, it reads: 'Who?'

The brief touch to her shoulder causes Rune's head to lift, turning towards Jacob and offering a somewhat confused look. It takes her a moment to realize that he's trying to ease her discomfort. She takes a deep breath and lets it out again, but her posture remains awkward, unable to quite manage to sit like someone in normal, polite company. Looking once at Jacob, and then at Harkashan, she then settles her eyes on Seldan. It's inevitable that her friends will want answers, so it's only a matter of time before she has to face that problem. Trying not to focus on that, however, Rune turns her attention back to Orvald, trying to discern what the next steps are for the guild.

"Even if I don't agree with most priestesses, especially one aligned with Taara, mister Orvald does have a very valid point." The artificer finally pipes up after a long bout of silence and another stare at Seldan this time, followed by a long sigh. "It would be best if they didn't assume we were trying to wipe out their clergy as well, or that we are aligned with the ones doing so currently in Charn. At least, that makes the most sense to me."

"A diplomat from Charn, who is also a priestess of Taara, has gone missing. One Akorinil Belvade. She was last seen some months ago." Orvald hold sup a scroll and unufurls it, revealing an artist's rendition of a beautiful, mature shadow elven woman with scarlet hair and deeply dark skin.

"IF you should see her or gain any indicationsd as to her whereabouts, please alert a guild representative. She is a prominent priestess, and has had favorble contracts with the Guiild, believe it or not, and it's thought she might know something more about the Shards of Animus."

Having spoken his piece, Seldan seems inclined now to be silent and unobtrusive, merely listening, although the steady, unsurprised thought written across his even features suggests that this is not entirely news to him either.

Aryia nods along, her familiar with the figure shown to them. While she was familiar with them, and Akorinil /did/ help her on an outing, she still holds a suspicion about them.

She looks over to the figure in bronze. As much as she hates to agree with it, she bobs her head along finding some wisdom in that.

Jacob takes a deep breath as he hears there's a priestess of Tara that's still mulling about in the region. He nods only once, quietly. He does take notice of Rune's confusion and he realizes he probably didn't help much at all in comfort. He looks at the Talon, nodding approvingly as they lower themselves into their seat. The priestess holds no weight of recognition in Jacob's eyes, but he remains silent all the same. "Serriel guide us." He repeats silently to himself.

Iskandar studies the scroll in order to commit the likeness to his memory. "She's a diplomat from Charn...and she was here?" His brow furrows. "Some months ago? Hrm. There's any number of things that could have befallen her。I'm afraid." Still, he sees now where the Guild may come into this.

Malik leans over to Seldan, kissing his shoulder lightly. There's a smile on his face, and the wizard generally appears somewhat amused. Looking to the Sith-Makar in their group, he mumbles something loud enough for both of them to hear.

Malik's murmurings cause Zeke to snort lightly, shaking his head with distant amusement. Other than that however he is prone to keep his peace. It's hard for him to speak up in public settings like this in the first place, given the nature of the conversation however, it is made even more difficult.

Rune leans forward a bit more, taking in the rendition of the person in question. Though she certainly doesn't know nearly the details of a more experienced Adventurer, it seems that the task at hand is a welcome distraction from her... other concerns. The problem is, Rune isn't up to speed on a great many things, so there are most certainly more questions than answers. Thankfully, there seem to be a large number of guild members who are more versed in matters. Perhaps contacts to be made at a later time. Shifting, Rune sets her leg back down, but there is still an energy to her. Her forward posture suggests that she might be itching to head out momentarily.