Day 2, Noon (Open) - The Public Forum

Perhaps the most important people on the continent were all gathered in one place as the sun rose to its zenith in the sky. As the procession made its end in the marketplace at a small ampitheater, the somewhat large crowd gathered in a muffled hum to give the representatives of both of Terria's great nations an audience to the day's dealings. The weather was slightly muggy, without a cloud in the sky.

The Dionan representatives, including Lord Nikos Dorsei and his companion Stumbleduck, stood on the right hand side of the amiptheater's floor. They had a tent which bore Emperor Gorrin's colors and sigil - a red bull rampant on a gold field. The human Lord Dorsei had an impassive look on his weathered face, hands folded neatly behind his back.

To his right and the audience's left, his majesty Jacyn Steele took a seat on a folded chair under his own canvas for shade. His own banner was emblazoned upon the makeshift tent as well - a silvered sword at an angle upon a field of royal blue. His bodyguard and head of the order of Apollo stood at attention, behind the king and to his right.

They weren't the only ones. An interesting array of people and persons had gathered- off all races, manner, jobs, and houses and nationalities, close by to lend their opinions to the days dealing if necessary. They waited for everyone to settle and quiet before the forum began in earnest.

Uncertain of his presence here amongst the throng of people, Alex found it discomforting being in such close proximity to so many people. He chose as spot close to the edges, allowing for the amphitheatre to watch his back, whilst his eyes kept observation of the front. Rummaging through his backpack he did a double take of his wares. Scroll cases and writing equipment all accounted for, even his book he had opted to bring this day, not entirely sure what to expect, it was better to be prepared. Although he wished to view the proceedings in their entirety, he also realised that there may be a need for his services immediately after. A chance he was not willing to pass up on in order to help get his name out there.

The earlier discussion had given Sigismund much to consider on the way to the forum. Following the procession, he wondered what would be said - what would be addressed. It went without saying that Diona had been busy with their own investigations, and in a setting such as this, it only stood to reason that both sides would be trying to coax an admission of guilt out of the other.

But the mere fact that both kings were willing to sit in an open-air environ such as this, and discuss the topic proved that both were ready to risk an awful lot. Trust still remained, and that was important. But it also provided a number of unique challenges. Whatever third parties sought to drive their two countries apart could potentially be hiding among the wings, ready to sabotage all of their efforts - with words, steel, or bolts.

It was not his place to question the decisions made by the king nor his security detail. But it would not hurt to keep an eye on the entire proceedings. With these many people, anything could easily be overlooked, so the more eyes watching, the better.

After spending the early day wandering around town, looking for a good opportunity, the black dragonborn faces the crowd, and notices his emperor's color and sigil. Interested, he approaches, with his backpack magically packed with everything, and longsword in hilt. He had left the battleaxe and hammer in the inn, at the care of its owner, so as not to cause any major trouble. He instantly notices the friendly knight, due to his shining familiar armor, and holy equipment.

This situation here, with a king. representatives, and a crowd seems worrying, and... strange. Either something bad will happen, or already has. Maybe it's best to stick around, and hopefully, around his newly-acquired friend of... 3 days ago? Time has gone by fast in the city. Syreskala approaches, and places his scaly and cold hand on the paladin's unguarded shoulder.

"Hello, friend. What's going on around here? A lot of people in one single place. And royal symbols everywhere! Here was I, looking for a job, and I find this crowd!"

His scales have lost their refractive property around his lower mouth, probably due to the excessively strong acid, now more controlled. He is smiling, with his dark cyan eyes looking at Sigsimund right in the face, or what's visible of it.

Siliani is in attendance, mostly because as a member of the nobility, she had an obligation to be here. Even if it was cutting into a day she had planned on spending doing nothing more than flirting with the bar staff at one of her favorite haunts, possibly ending up having more fun than simple flirting, but of course, obligations and duties to her family, her people and her country took precedence, even if it meant she would be bored out of her skull. The drow is wearing a light chain shirt underneath a rather light and, if not for the presence of the armor and a weapon's belt holding a rapier, daringly cut outfit of purple and silver silk, a brooch of her house's symbol holding it all in place. She sighed inwardly, glancing around the cloud, just...being on edge for any potential trouble. Because there might be hotheads in the audience who would dare to try something against her liege or those whom he had likely vouched for safe passage for.

"The public forum," he answers the black Dragonborn, trying not to take his eyes off the crowd at large. "There will be much discussion, and if I do not miss my guess, there will be quite a bit of discussion afterwards as well. There is a great deal at stake here, but I am certain we will talk again about this later. You may yet find yourself a job, should you choose to stay. I'd suggest it, really. This concerns us all."

He takes note of the other Drow in the audience. How strange to see them out during the daytime. But given the importance of this gathering, perhaps not that strange.

The dwarf arrives. He hasn't spotted his friends just yet, though. For now, he seems to be keeping to the edge of the crowd, trying not to get dragged in. A crowd that size he would have welcomed if he was on stage. Or if it was a proper phalanx. Being part of one in this manner just felt stifling.

Kragg arrives soon enough as well after his bath. He is dressed a little more commonly than just his sailor's outfit, his beard a little more neatly held together with its ring, though he still wore his bandanna and his lucky shark tooth necklace. He seemingly does not look to have brought any weapons or armor, though the more perceptive might notice that the rope-like belt wrapped around his waist looked a little odd. He did not expect there to be trouble here at the forum, but one could never be too careful. The grey skinned half-orc takes a seat with no one in particular and waits for the forum to start.

Moira stepped into the amphitheater, looking quickly about for a place to call her own amidst the growing numbers.  Her steps and mannerisms, while graceful also seemed slightly uncertain as she glanced over the crowd.

For those who had known her the previous day in her frayed clothes, unkempt hair, and smudges of the day worn across her visage... this was not the same person.  Rather than being hidden beneath that grime and lack of care, Moira was now looking every bit a lady.

A new emerald silk dress, a bright shade very similar to the green of her eyes, adorns her length with a white lotus flower embroidered from where it brushes her ankles and grows to a few inches beneath her right breast.  The sides split up to her bare, light grey thighs and leaving her tail visibly coiled against her left ankle.  The arms are fully covered and bell at the ends as they lay slack beneath her wrists.  The fabric fastens over her neck before a gap in the clothing beneath it teases her upper chest.  Where yesterday, smudges marred her visage, today her skin shows no blemishes and her hair is tidy and clean with a soft waviness to the crimson locks.  Where grime hid her natural beauty before, there was nothing to hide now and her exotic looks were on display for all to witness.

A new dress and a bath.  And a kind old lady who demanded she brush her hair in the bathhouse.  Is this what they meant by "dress up" ... she hoped that she had the formalities described to her correct.  Looking over the crowd one last time, she sighed as she saw nobody she recognized... perhaps it was the jitters of being here or perhaps she was too occupied with the strange sight of nobles on the platform drawing her attention that she failed to notice Alex, Kraag, and Sigismund in attendance as well in other areas of the amphitheater.  She considered looking a moment longer when the address began and gave up.

Without her cowl and cloak to hide her horns and tail, she was feeling a little exposed and out of place anyhow.  She was certain those she had met who wished to greet her would be able to easily see her amidst the forum gatherers.

Lukas, the court mage and source of knowledge for many things Draconic, sat with a small smile on his face and a sack of scrolls in his lap. The stone bench near the floor level was cool in spite of the heat, though his courtly robes weren't doing much to help him on the unusually muggy day.

He looks around for Tiarnan or Zaril, hoping to see allies in case things go awry... or if he is given an unpleasant task to accomplish. Best to have people you trust with your life nearby just in case.

The court mage wouldn't have to search long as he feels the weight of a palm on his shoulder. The half-elf grins down to the man, weighted in a heavy robe resplendent in rich greens and golden embroidery.
The sigil of the Scholar's Guild adorns his cuffs, collar, and hem. While not his finest robes, which Tiarnan would save for a more traditional court setting, he definitely is dressed in quite high fashion for the situation.

"I see you are all prepped for your speech." Tiarnan says with a grin, acknowledging the scrolls as he settles down on the bench next to Lukas. "Are ye' ready? Today seems to be drawing quite the crowd. Who would figure, eh?" he offers a jovial wink to his sarcasm.

The drow pauses as she spots the redheaded tiefling in the crowd, crossing her arms and eyeing the redhead curiously. Perhaps this day won't be a total waste after all. I wonder which of the houses she's with? Mm. And probably already spoken for, but who knows. Could be one of those hidden gems.

“Shall we begin your majesty?” Lord Dorsei enquired evenly, nodding to the smaller Stumbleduck at his side before awaiting a response. King Steele looks over, and gives the man a nod.

“Yes. Let us begin. I understand in the name of Emperor Gorrin you have come with a grievance to bear.”

Nikos Dorsei steps forward, his leather cloak sweeping behind him as he walks, arms behind his back across the brown and dark green colors of his house. The man, a rather dour looking warrior type with a scar over his right eye and a long sword on his hip begins to address the gathered assembly.

“As you know, some months ago our Prince Roderik was murdered. Slain, by a demon shapeshifter. In your kingdom, under your banners. In your house and home, after bread had been broken and the laws of hospitality fulfilled. Emperor Gorrin has given Larendar six months to ascertain the truth as to what happened that day. To meet out justice to those who failed not only the Great Dionan Empire, but also the Kingdom of Larendar. Such….” Nikos gives a sideways glance to the paladins of Apollo, charged with guarding the royal family, “lax security protocols would not have been administered if the wedding had taken place in Diona as I had advised. We would never be at the state we are in today, yet alas, here we stand. Diona does not abide Abyssal filth wondering our halls; such blasphemy is simply impossible.”
A pause for effect, and some rumbling from the commoners a distance away. “I have come on behalf of the Emperor to witness this justice. To see it carried out. Have you found our villains, Your Grace?” Nikos asks smoothly.

The commoners began to erupt; whether in agreement with Nikos’ rhetoric or in vitriol at the discourtesy was anyone’s guess. King Steele raised his left arm to silence the crowd, followed by Wryn Coleman, the King’s personal bodyguard, banging the steel sheath of his greatsword against the stone.

“Silence!!! Silence, and let your King speak!” With that the crowd silences after a few more seconds. King Steele nods in thanks, standing as well to address Nikos properly.

“Such a complex question requires a complex answer. Not only as a show of faith and friendship to Emperor Gorrin and every citizen of fair Diona, not only in order to avenge your fallen prince and my lost son in law, and not only for my own daughter’s safety…. But for peace. Peace for all of Terria. In the name of a future of peace I have invested a multitude of my resources to solving the many problems that we face, Lord Dorsei.”

King Steele turns his gaze from the crowd and towards Nikos. “however, I regret to inform you that the matter of precisely what occurred that day still alludes us. We have not yet found the truth as to how, why, and who precisely killed Prince Roderik. I thank you for your patience in the matter, as well as the patience of Emperor Gorrin.” This causes a frown to form upon the old Dionan warrior’s face. “However, I believe we are close to that answer. The truth will likely have dire consequences for our world. Brother Morton, please step forward and explain your recent mission and what you discovered in the North.”

From the left side of the amphitheater, the clanging of heavy boots, plate and the ringing of chainmail can be heard. Clashing and clattering, cacophonous above the muttered whispers of the crowd. Adorned in polished steel, with shield and warhammer over his back andthe crest of Ares upon a tabard over his armor, a tanned human cleric with close cropped, sandy brown hair steps forward at his king’s command. His face bears a small frown, and he walks with the gait of a seasoned warrior – to be expected from a disciple of the God of War.

“Your majesty,” he greets flatly, after paying the proper obeisances to the King. Morton turns and faces the crowd. “I am Morton of the Salt Flats, cleric of Ares, and member of the King’s Will. My companions and I traveled north to learn the truth about the barbarian warlord Xyphon, and we learned a great deal. After infiltrating a kobold settlement and ‘convincing’ them to lead us to their master, we met with Xyphon. The man concerned himself very much with making his power known and showing us his strength. A veiled threat he perhaps thought us too daft to notice. The nomadic tribes to the north, tens of thousands of kobolds, and three adult dragons have aligned themselves with Xyphon.” A pause. “Red dragons, to be specific. We broached a potential peace with him, a peace he seemed amenable to after much back and forth, at which point he let us be on our way unharmed. I noticed that the man wore an odd sigil; his weapons, his armor, and his cloak all bore it. The symbol seemed religious, marked in the same way my patron has marked my own gifts, my tools of war- a black mailed gauntlet, grasping a bundle of arrows.” Morton continues to explain, standing at a rigid attention. “We did not get very far from Kresia before he sent his barbarian lap dogs and one of the three dragons after us to kill us… as we expected. My companions and I were able to chase the red serpent away and defeat the barabarians. I took one of the northern warrior women as my concubine and a spoil of the battle, and we learned a great deal from her in the days that followed during our travels home home. These dragons he breaks bread with are the children of Bleiterghast. Xyphon claims to be a demigod, a son of some being that calls itself Hextor. Perhaps some foreign god of war, meant to blaspheme against Ares’ divinely appointed domain. And Xyphon means to bring war to us, he schemes with the ancient wyrm of the East to break its oaths. He wants to destroy Larendar and conquer it both, to usurp what we have built.”

His tale/report at an end, Morton steps away to the side. King Steele continues, speaking once more to Lord Dorsei and the Dionans. A few of the notable gathered – Staceene, Stumbleduck, and a tall antlered elf all seem visibly surprised at the news. “Morton sent message to us two days ago describing what he and his companions found. Most troubling to me was the news of this foreign god. I had Lukas compare this Hextor’s symbol to the research he had been doing on Bleiterghast, to see if there was a correlation.”

Lukas stands and makes his way before the crowd, blowing a lock of his vermilion hair from his eyes and unfurling one of the scrolls. He gingerly hand this piece of paper to Lord Dorsei, who looks over it evenly and in silence.

“Thank you, Your Grace. I have compared what notes I could find from explorers and various historians who have ventured into, mapped, and catalogued the Red Dragon’s lair and were lucky enough to survive. The dragon hordes many artifacts from the Upheaval War, or what are believed to be of that era. Scholarship concerning that great war is even rarer and just as difficult to find. However, with the help of Nalfein Nirinath, who happened upon a tome that catalogues such ancient and defeated deities, we were able to corroborate what Brother Morton has explained. Hextor is one of the gods of the old pantheon who had fallen to our current one. Detailed accounts of the artifacts describe other such religious symbols and sigils. A spider webbed, eight pointed sigil. The heads of five chromatic wyrms. A crimson, upside down five pointed star. Lloth. Tiamat. Asmodeus. Records show that these symbols match the names of these beings of great and ancient evil. Each one seemingly emblazoned upon a multitude of artifacts in the Dragon’s lair. I believe it is safe for us to assume that these defeated gods still have servants in this coil and that Bleiterghast and Xyphon are among them. It would make sense for them to have orchestrated what happened to Prince Roderik, but proof is not available with what little we know. This is just the hypothesis of your leal servant and advisor my King, but we…” It is apparent the notion troubles the young mage. “…We may have to send someone into the Red Wyrm’s layer if we want to discover the truth.”

Lukas gives a quick bow, before heading back to his seat.

Syliani, fussing with her rapier a bit at the news, making her way over to the redheaded tiefling and deciding to introduce herself and try and garner a little bit of information about which house she was with. After all, she's clearly too well-groomed and dressed to be some commoner, not that Syliani had anything against them. She had numerous friends who were commoners, after all. She bows to Moira as she approaches, smiling.

"Greetings, ma'am. This one is Silani, scion of House d'Ivoreth. I noticed you across the way and was curious to hear what you think about the matters revealed today."

Moira listens intently to the odd news of wars and dragons, trying to put all of the pieces into place, but lacking the true expertise in solving such complicated matters of politics and wars among gods.

As the Drow approaches her, fussing a bit at the rapier at her side, Moira tries to keep her attention upon the dias' proceedings... surely this girl has no interest in bringing arms against her.  Why would she want to single her out so?

As Siliani stops and bows to her, Moira fidgets with the hem of one of the sleeves of her dress.  What little experience she has had thus far with nobles, they seemed to carry on with dozens of words where few would carry greater meaning.

Moira returns the bow lightly, imitating Siliani's own movements, "Moira." she states simply and looks past Siliani a moment before returning her eyes to meet hers, and as she replies her accent reveals she is definitely not from the capital itself or not as learned in the ways of proper annunciations, "Issa bit of a complex matter.  Demons killin' princes... dragons an' war comin'.  I ne'er followed the gods much, but all soun's a bit of a mess."

Stumbleduck the gnome nods rapidly toward Lukas as he bows and seats himself.

"Your flame-haired youth speaks truth, Your Majesty," she squeaks out in a high pitch, looking up at Lord Dorsei for support. "The Emperor would see this matter closed, mhmm, just as you yourself would, no? Then, perhaps the best, and quickest, way to get to the bottom of this would be to send a compliment of men to investigate the matter." The nodding rapidly increases as she makes a sweeping motion over the audience, the motion accentuating the quickening of her tone. "I'm sure there are some in your faire kingdom who would be perfectly suited for such a task. Of course, we, too, would offer up some of our own. We are united with Larendar in rooting out the cause of this mess. You agree, don't you, Lord Dorsei?"

She returns her attention to King Steele. "If the Great Wyrm does indeed plan to annul his treaties of peace with both our nations, it would be a decidedly wise action to show an allied front against such... such... madness!" The small gnome throws her arms in the air at the word.

Syliani smiles gently, "Ah. Well, yes, I suppose it is. Tell me, Moira. Are you affiliated with any of the other great houses here? Because I must say, they are missing out on something most interesting. And do you have any talents, beyond being rather fetching and adorably direct?"

Zaril watches the proceedings from the sidelines. Surveying the crowed he is pleased to see another of his kind amongst it though curious what business she has with a drow. Zaril is dressed in fine guild attire and a glaive strapped to his back. His brow furrows and tail flicks in annoyance at the news. He had wished for something more, wanting this mess to be over with. After hearing his friends speech he wondered if Lukas would be foolish enough to go into the lair himself.

Dorsei's eyes look like they are about to pop out from his head as he quickly snaps his head towards Stumbleduck. Trifling gnome woman! Don't you see, they failed us? Failed Roderik, failed our Empire! Made us look weak... why else would the carrion beasts circle us, ready to pick from our dead corpses?

The look of anger only lasts but a minute before Nikos composes himself. The die had been cast, and Diona could lose no further face. Even if the evidence for the young man's hypothesis was convincing, yet circumstantial. "Yes, we should see the matter closed. Very well then. Let us get to the bottom of this together, your majesty."

King Steele smiles widely. "Excellent. Thank you, Lady Stumbleduck," he says with a nod to the Dionan ambassador. "We must show an allied front. And in the interests of such..." the king trails off slightly, looking to the crowd.

"Does anyone, Dionan or Larendarian, have some news or information to bring to this forum? Dealings with these symbols, these peoples, anything that could help us secure a peace in the face of such an overwhelming threat?"

(OOC: PCs should feel free to come up and ask questions or contribute to the discussion at hand at this time : D )

Moira, sensing no immediate threat from the drow next to her, relaxes just a bit and returns her hands to her sides.  When talk of demons killing princes were tossed about on the stage, Moira had rampant thoughts running through her mind of days past, of her horns and tail and wondering at first thought that maybe this Siliani had arrived because of them.  But her smile seemed to calm Moira somewhat as the talk slipped away from the proceedings.

Moira gently shakes her head.  She considers for a moment Siliani's chosen words... was she flirting or was this how nobles talked? ... "Nah, miss.  Imma only been in town a couple days.  Mos'ly meetin' people, lookin' for work, and..." she pauses as Stumbleduck makes her proclamations and King Steele his own, "Tryin' to learn what's happenin'.  Some said I shoulda dress up to atten' a forum with the king.  Issa pleasure to meeta pretty lady of ..." she stops and tries to recall the name again, "Ivoryeth" she tries, missing a few syllables.  There, bases covered... if this was how nobles expected talk to be, then she spoke how they would expect... if this was flirting, then she'd acknowledge the drow in the same appreciation.

Syliani beams as she discovers that the tiefling is looking for work, clapping her hands together delightedly, "Looking for work, you say? Well, I may actually have a job for you if you are interested, Moira. You see, I am always looking for capable hands to help out with odds and ends to help advance the cause of my house and Llandria, as well as pleasant and pretty company to have around me at parties and the like, in order to maintain the image of my house. Somehow, I get the feeling you'd be helpful on both fronts, Moira, so, if I were to offer you...say...15 gold pieces a day for working as my assistant, with funds for clothing and equipment as needed, what would you say to that?"

From threat to employer?  Moira definitely did not get a good read on this lady when she first approached.  Perhaps it was everything that had happened today and the underlying anxiety of the crowd that had put her on edge and thinking of danger first in her mind.

Moira offers a warm smile, "Imma nah sure how good I'da be at all that.  But Imma like to see wha' all the job is." she rubs her chin a little with a forefinger, "Issa okay to say tha', miss Siliani?" she asks.

Last thing Moira needed right now was to find herself disgracing an employer and being told to get out of town.  She was finally starting to feel like she was getting to know some of the ways about town and the interesting people within.  And all this talk of dragons and gods and wars... this was going to be the talk of the town for many days.

"Of course it is. I mean, some nobles are a bit more touchy about that sort of thing, but I've found that it's never wise to rush people to decisions without giving them all the information they need. I was just excited to see someone as uniquely striking as you around here and, frankly, was worried another house had already snapped you up," Siliani replies, smiling in a genuine manner, "As for what you'd be doing, I am a warrior of blade and spell by training, but it never hurts to have another set of eyes watching your back in a scrap. I learned that in my time serving the nation in the army. You'd be expected to fight alongside me, providing me with what assistance you can. At parties, I would expect you just to be your charming self, as people tend to underestimate commoners when it comes to things like, oh, say, finding out important information that helps defend the realm and seeking out those who might do it harm, as well as just looking pretty on my arm or at my side, which I don't think will be that hard for you to do. Additional tasks may be assigned, depending on your talents and inclinations, and aside from the pay and equipment, you'd be working alongside a scion of a noble house, which is always a bonus, and possibly earning the friendship of said house, which has a long history of adopting capable commoners into the cadet branch of the family, ensuring their future well being."

Moira blushes a bit at the complimentary tone, her cheeks taking on just a bit of color against what is normally a pale grey, and then nods as Siliani goes into an in depth explanation. Much of her explanation was a bit over Moira's understanding, but she understood the gist of the position.

Moira answers, "Imma good witha dagger. Ne'er really fough' much with others though. Usually jus' me. But Imma good at talkin' ta people. Jus' maybe nah nobles as much. Nah used ta all the words an' flatterings."

Moira stops herself from accepting as a thought crosses her mind. Was this Siliani's way of recruiting people to fight the dragon? Promises of 15 gold to walk into a lair to be eaten by an ancient beast? She considers the thought for a moment, looking back at the assembly below, "Are ya goings ta the dragon's lair an' ya want me ta fight with ya?"