The Gathering of Whitecrest

[Tentreto]

Spoiler: Amham

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Amham Federation

Kin Gyeon stared up at the walls of Whitecrest as he walked. They formed a terribly impressive barrier, and also a very bright one. Everything seemed to be brighter here, in the south beneath a blaring sun, compared to back home. It was welcoming, in its way, though he regretted the vigorous whitewash on the walls prevented him from seeing how they had been laid. He would have liked to gain a closer examination of the walls that had reputedly withstood the onslaught of Dejan a century earlier. Perhaps there would be an opportunity later.

Walking up the hill on the final approach at least meant the end of this portion of the journey. He would willingly admit, with a dash of rueful humor, that he had vastly underestimated the difficulty of traveling so far. One voyage after another, perilous all, and this final march inland. He had not purchased a horse, considering it a pointless extravagance for such a short walk, but the sea had weakened his legs further than he realized and the march was tiring. He could only hope the Inyoni did not have anything strenuous planned for the afternoon.

Kin wore his best silk robes, deep indigo decorated with a red leaf pattern marching down from each shoulder. The paired servant couple accompanying him wore much less extravagant linen in muted green. He had donned the golden pins marking him as a member of the ducal household for the day, folding his hair up accordingly to display the ornate design. It was uncomfortable, and every time some movement caused their weight to pull against his scalp he felt he could hear his cousin the duke whispering in his mind about the burden of leadership. Nothing he wanted to reflect on at the moment.

The populace had certainly turned out for the gathering. There could be no mistaking the snaking assemblage lining both sides of the road to the city. Arrayed en masse it was impossible to avoid noticing their pale and wan nature. Kin, though merely modestly above average in stature among the Amham, was a tall man here. It did make them seem birdlike, at the least. He supposed this made a measure of sense.

There were birds overhead, whirling and swooping all about. How many were ordinary animals and how many were people? There was no apparent means of knowing. It was difficult to trust in the legends of this place, heard third or fourth-hand. Even so, Kin found himself regularly fingering the bracelet of polished stones his cousin Chae had given him before leaving. The one she claimed would protect him from turning into a bird.

Guardsmen at the gate were human enough at least, and courteous. A small group guided his modest entourage from then on, mostly silent save for basic directions. The city itself was grungy, disheveled, and bearing obvious signs of the homes of the impoverished. Not an uncommon thing - even brief glimpses of the ports of the empire made along the way had revealed all this and worse besides - but a clear change from the stout dwellings of the soldier households in the towns of Amham. There were birds here too, everywhere. There must be some means to tell persons from animals, otherwise surely all too many citizens would end up in the cook-pots of the impoverished.

The guards directed the party to the center of the city, where there waited another polished white structure - this time a palace - in the center of lush gardens. The verdant expanse was impressively well-maintained, though the foreign plants were wholly unfamiliar to Kin's eyes. He detected subtle differences in color as well, the greens were clearer and paler in this southerly realm, though it mattered little to him. A curiosity for shamans to puzzle over. The strong scent of incense was impossible to miss, and that set nerves to humming. It made it more difficult to behave appropriately.

Thankfully the King was suitably regal. That helped. Upon approach, Kin descended to both knees, bending at the waist to bring his head quite low, though not all the way to the ground. "Your grace," Kin spoke while unable to see any higher than the monarch's knees. "I have the modest honor of being Kin Gyeon, representing the Amham Federation. In recognition of our gratitude at this grand gathering, we offer you this gift." Extending his hands, palms up, he presented a finely wrought bronze dagger, inlaid with jade.

Keat was subtely impressed by Kin Gyeon. The representative had travelled almost the entire width of the known world to attend this gathering, and managed to do so with a precious gift. Taking the dagger carefully, he examined it carefully, noting the quality of the working on it.
"I must thank you greatly for this gift Kin Gyeon. This dagger is one of the finest I have seen, even in my own lands. Rise, you have travelled further than almost any other here, and certanily show your lands well." Keat carefully handed the gift over to a nearby servent-it would be undue to show outright favour by wearing a gift so early-and gestured at the tables. "If you or your entourage are in need of refreshment, please help yourselves, the day is yet young. Or if you are interested in anything about us, feel free to enquire. I assume Amham itself is fairing well?

In the background, a few birds swooped into a nearby tree, until another bird, this one with a small sash of white linen around it swept in as well, upon which the other birds quickly winged away.

Spoiler: Gwitna

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Due to experience with the port-city of Delphraic, Lord Adril Ferreth was not as taken aback as many of his countrymen might have been by the great crowds that he met as he entered whitecrest, but it was nonetheless a shock after a couple of years in the relatively sparcely populated town-fortress of Tloon Redlan. He managed to put on a smile and wave to the throngs, but it was a visible effort.

The magpie Wyndath on lord Ferreth's shoulder, on the other hand, was exuberant at the attention that it received, puffing out its chest and preening its fathers in a great display of vanity. Upon noting the interest of the flocks of birds in attendance, he flew up into the air to show off to them. This was quickly cut short by a pair of young and playful brown birds and a well-timed dropping. Among chirps of laughter from the rest of the local flock, Windath returned to Adril's shoulder with an indignant air and tried to get the white paste out of his fine black plumage.

Wyndath was still preening when Ferreth arrived at the manor gardens, but stopped looking at his feathers to observe the fine decor of the dining area and chortle a few calls into Ferreth's ear as the pair approached King Whitefeather. Upon reaching him, the pair gave a low bow, and Ferreth introduced himself.

"I am Lord Adril Ferreth of Glen Gwitna. You are King Whitefeather, I presume?"

"I am the King of the Inyoni, and King Whitefeather, yes," replied Keat, "It is good to meet a fellow ruler Lord Ferreth, especially one at ease with birds."Looking carefully at the magpie, Keat noted the way it puffed itself up. "I have heard those of House Magpie can understand the eponymous birds. I assume by his prescense their is a grain of truth to that. If you wish, I can offer your compaion a tour of the area from a birds eye view." Keat looked up at the large man while he said this, taking in his attire, especially the blanket drapped across him.

Spoiler: Regno

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Grand Magus Viclean from Regno
Arrival

There was quite a lot of discourse between Magi and Speakers, towards whether or not Grand Magus Viclean would be allowed to leave the desert sands for so long. Yet the holder of the Staff of the Sun would not be denied. Viclean's calm, steady certainty that things would work out just fine, one way or another, finally swayed the other Families. He left Magi Derivat in charge of Sortis, and a small contingent of Sons of Us All came with him as Viclean first went south to charter a boat from Izbefe. The journey took weeks, even with the skilled hands of the Initia ship captain he found in Karak City; a surprise, to be sure, for who knew that there were so many learned men and women outside of Regno?

Still, as the Swelling Wave finally docked in Redtail Port, Captain Carunt irritably looked upon the busy shore. The guard captain was not used to the shirt he now wore, Viclean had observed with silent amusement, but it was needed. The winds upon the sea and in the docks they had stopped at during the journey had been chilly, compared to the comforting warm air of the desert. Few of the guards remained shirtless, though burly Masiv, with his large frame and long bushy beard, was trying so very hard not to let the weather bother him, and a couple other Sons were trying to remain as manly. If only so that others might tell stories about their bravery, and make it easier for them to find wives.

Viclean himself had no such illusions of grandeur. He already had a wife, and beautiful Ingenia would have scolded him fiercely if he caught sick from trying to impress the Sons of Us All with him. Thinking of his love, far away now in the City in the Sand, the Grand Magus looked down upon his clothing with the critical eye of a husband trying not to embarrass his wife. He had performed a few minor magics while traveling - both through Initia and skilled tradescraft - and earned himself several bolts of cloth and finery that he intended to take back to Regno. His current favorites, though, were the purple vest he wore over the long white robe that stopped right above his ankles. Viclean could feel the flabby flesh under the robe, and calmly tied on his golden rope belt, looping it around his no longer slim stomach as he sighed.

Once, he had been a young and vibrant Oamenii, eager to advance from Speaker to Magi by day, while spending nights wooing Ingenia and her horrid mother (Elements preserve her soul, faaar away from Viclean). Had he not mastered his mixing of the Rune of the Unequaled Storm and the Rune of the Sun, officially earning himself the title of Magi, he doubted that his dear sweet Ingenia would have been able to convince her family to let him marry her. These days, though, he could feel that age was starting to catch up to him. He'd had time to speak with the human crew about the Swelling Wave, and was shocked to find that the oldest looking among them - the weathered one-eyed bosun with wispy grey hair - was the same age as he, fifty three. Humans, it would seem, lived slightly shorter lives that Oamenii. Viclean was only just now starting to see strands of grey in his black beard, and Stramosi's Guiding Hand, the Grand Magus hoped to be around another seven or eight decades.

Still, he supposed he would have to exercise more if he wanted to loose the extra belly fat that he was growing. He felt his ankle joints pop in places that they didn't use to as he tied up his sandals. Captain Carunt was older than Viclean, and the grey haired guard seemed not to notice the Grand Magus's mild look of envy at the ease with which the captain still moved. Viclean secured his jewel encrusted turban to his head, and hung the curved bronze dagger with it's Blattea speckled scabbard - a gift from his daughter - upon his belt. Viclean knew he would have no need to draw it, other than for meals, but it made the Sons of Us All feel better knowing that he had something to protect him in case of some backwards individual, still loyal to Dejan, was here in Whitefeather to cancel the Grand Magus's abilities to speak with the Elements. Also hung upon Viclean's belt were several small, fist sized bags, filled with Blattea. As Grand Magus, Viclean could easily turn the Blattea into the magic enhancing powder known as Bani. As Captain Carunt got the Sons moving, and Masiv found a small carriage to take the Grand Magus from the docks of Redtail to Whitecrest, Viclean found time to do just that. The black ink of his tattoos, along his arms and shoulders, and the open circle that was the Rune of Thought upon his forehead seemed to glow, and Viclean held a bag of Blattea and whispered to the local Elements to help crush and grind the purple rocks in just the right way. The Elements here were eager to have someone talking to them, and Viclean noted with interest that there were more ties to the ways of Air in Whitefeather than he had been expecting. Perhaps the rumors of the Inyoni being able to turn into birds were not rumors after all.

Peering inside the bag that had previously held several smooth purple flecked stones, Viclean smiled a warm toothy grin as the now fine powder inside caught the sunlight. The royal purple colored Bani - what the crew of the Swelling Wave called Magic Dust - was a precious commodity in Regno and the nearby regions. It would make for a fine gift to the local Family leader. Viclean chided himself mentally; King. They were in a kingdom, so the Family head was called a King. Or a Queen, were she female. The Grand Magus had spent most of his time with the sailors from Izbefe practicing his tradesmen tongue, and making sure his voice was clear and understandable. To his delight, he found he enjoyed speaking the other language, and was now training many of the Sons of Us All to understand and speak it as well.

The carriage came to a stop. Peering out the window, Viclean was momentarily distracted by all the green he saw. So much grass and so little sand. He heard a small cough to his left, and the white robed Grand Magus looked over at the grizzled face of Captain Carunt, who nodded once, and then jerked his head towards what looked like a grand gate... and a herd of onlookers beyond it. Masiv jogged up to the gate guards, his large frame and sun kissed skin standing out against the backdrop of fair skinned folk; that said nothing about the slight point to his ears that were shared by all Oamenii. Viclean watched as a detachment of guards respectfully surrounded the Sons of Us All and the carriage, and proceeded to escort them through Whitecrest City.

The city itself was a marvel. So different in architecture then Sortis, yet Viclean could see the bonds of family were nearly as strong here just from the groupings of the crowd. He waved in a friendly manner at the onlookers, and the carriage made it's way towards a stately appearing manor, where the Whitecrest guardsmen encouraged the group to stop. Viclean stepped out, and gazed upon the garden before him. Clearly, this was set up to be a party, and Viclean approved!

With Captain Carunt on his left, and Masiv on his right, began to walk forward, knowing that the rest of the Sons would fall in line. They would not leave the Grand Magus's side, unless he or one of the other Speakers with him ordered it. Viclean nodded to the two ladies with him, their tattooes much more visible on their bronze colored skin not covered by the robes of a Magi. The ladies nodded back respectfully, but as planned, soon turned their gazes to the other party-goers. It was Viclean's hope that this visit would make new allies and foster connections to the Five Families of Regno.

Soon enough, though, the Grand Magus and his entourage were led to a man in red robes, a circlet of gold with a single ruby sits firmly on his head. Based on the way everyone else was acting around this man, it was obvious that he was the host. Viclean awaited his turn, his beard braided in the style that Ingenia said made the Grand Magus look handsome, and when he was finally at the forefront, he smiled widely, and arms open wide, quickly grasped the red robed man in a hug, the way any guest would thank a host for having him.

Still near the King's ear, Viclean said loudly enough so as not to alarm Whitecrest's guards, "Friend King Keat Whitefeather, blessed are the Elements upon your home! Mighty are the families in your realm!"

Pulling away, but still smiling, the leader of Regno introduced himself, "I am Grand Magus Viclean, from Family of Sortis. The Desert of Regno was honored to receive invitation, and I could do no less than come myself to see you. As is tradition in our culture, I have brought small token of appreciation, though I confess I was unable to find out if you were wed already. If so, then may your wife's household find happiness with this bag of Bani, freshly powdered!"

"Long may our two families share in knowledge and peace among the Elements! May you find Balance easily," Viclean continued to smile as he pulled the bag from his belt and placed it within the hands of the Whitefeather King.

Spoiler: OOC - Entourage, and Attention Mechalich

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Regno Delegation
Grand Magus Viclean (Male, married)
Captain Carunt (Male, married)
Masiv - Son of Us All - (Male, unmarried)
Thirteen other Sons of Us All (Male, mostly unmarried)
Speaker Cogati (Female, unmarried)
Speaker Suveni (Female, unmarried)

OOC for Mechalich - being neighbors, I'd like to find a chance to have a chat with your delegate. You're invited to approach one of the Speakers or the Grand Magus himself, whichever you feel appropriate!

It probably showed a lot that when hugged, Keat had to hold back the instinct to peck the Grand Magus in the eyes. He wouldn't begrudge his sister for doing it, but he was a king, and that meant keeping his head. The Grand Magus' declaration at least held back his guards, a few which were circling above in the air cautiously. Keat gave a low whistle, signalling that he was fine, and the aerial protectors began to move away.

"I thank you for your kind words Grand Magus, you have travelled far to see us. I am not yet wed I am afraid, though mayhaps at this gathering I may find someone?." Keat raised an eyebrow very, very slightly. Taking the bag of Bani, Keat marvelled at it, he himself had never actually seen any, though a few old merchants and soldiers had mentioned it was what the realm of the magi was built on. "I must thank you again for this gift, my friend, Bani is rare in these lands, and usually we are content with the Maiden's Kiss."
At the mention of families, Keat was a little bit melancholic. The man probably didn't know, but outside House Whitefeather, the political scene was weak. House Redtail was still recovering slowly from the conquest, and Greybeak were almost completely gone, having their name almost become mud.
Keat shook it off. "and may you find where your shadows lie" he repiled.

Spoiler: Kuniumi

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[Kunai Clans]
Shushan

The Shushan were one of the only clans left in Kuniumi who considered themselves part of the once grand world-spanning empire of Avakonia, won by the bravery and skill of Dejan the Eternal Name. Whitecrest was one of the few cities to stand against him for any length of time, and was able to avoid destruction by suing for peace. The banners of the great clan were more tapestry than flag, thick and rich. They were colored in runes and symbols that were utterly incomprehensible to the whitecrest natives, for they were written in the true language.

Their entourage approached the city, all save their leader with heads bowed and hoods over their heads. They wore the deep purple of the Shushan clan, those who had been appointed by the Avakonians to lead and watch over the Kunai. Their leader rode atop a grand palanquin, looking down at the peasants beneath him.

Their leader was a man in thick robes colored midnight black, the only one of his entourage in such dark clothing. A single rune was displayed prominently on his back, in a deep purple ink that matched the rich clothes of his travelling companions. He sported a well-trimmed beard, and wore jewelry stylized off of the Avakonian empire.

As the group came to a stop, the man stood from the chair he was born on, and looked about the people beneath him.

"Before you stands the master of the Shushan, the greatest of the Kunai Clans." The man said, his tone deliberate and precise. "He speaks for all the peoples of Kuniumi. Who here speaks for the Whitefeather?"

While the captain of the gate guard had expected some foreingers who were incomprehensible, some who were arrogant and some who were offering thinly veiled threats, he had not expected the master of the Shushan. The guard caught himself, his bronze sword at his side in an obvious peace tie, and replied as best he could.
"King Keat Whitefeather is in the city, awaiting all those who have come for the gathering," he stated slightly stiffly. "If you wish to enter, please follow me to the gardens." He was a minor noble himself, by virtue of his rank, so he was probably the only one could respond for now. While the gate was being openned, the captain noted that with the crowds and the narrow streets, the palanquin might have trouble getting through. "It would ease the journey if you were to step down your..." he searched for the right term of address, and decided to play it safe "...hignesss."
Hopefully this wouldn't be a diplomatic 'incident'.

Spoiler: New Lacia

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Three men in meek clothing trudged up the rough cobbled streets of Whitecrest, stopping every now and again to give less fortunate folk coins or food. At the gates, the trio had introduced themselves as Scott Jarlson II, John and Thomas Johnson, envoys of the New Lacia, representatives of Domitordia. The three were of equal height and muscle mass, standing no more than five feet tall and none of them had ever held a sword. Despite this, the three had all studied techniques of sword fighting and war in there spare time, even though the three preferred topics of religion and diplomacy. When conversing with the townsfolk, Scott would primarily tell them about the glory of the Pantheon of Ildia, while John would tend to remain silent, following in Scott's wake. Scott and John frequently had to retrace their steps to find Thomas cracking jokes with kids and adults alike or singing Lacian folk songs in the native tongue of their ancestors, some words of which, the locals could understand as the Lacians first settled in the lands of the Whitefeather Kingdom and Coatl before moving further inland to the lands of the Cucollotabibans, later Lacia and now New Lacia. Eventually, the three made there way to the gardens. At this point, John removed a very small bag of Feth leaves from his robes and began smoking, offering some leaves to all who were in the garden by that point. Neither Scott, nor Thomas accepted the leaves from John, but Thomas removed some tobacco from his own robes and prepared to start smoking it, but did not actually light it. Scott then introduced the three to Keat, saying, "It is a pleasure to be in the company of the King of Whitefeather. I am Scott Jarlson II, son of Scott Jarlson I, son of Fredrick, son of Jarl. My companions are John and Thomas Johnson, son of Harold, son of Pietica, who is rumoured to be the son of John of tribe Sotalbus. The John with me was found without parents by Scott Jarlson I and taken in by his wife, Ailidh. John was then raised as my brother and we studied together our entire lives." The three then bowed in synchronization to the King for four seconds before returning to their previous positions of standing.

Spoiler: OOC

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While John was circulating the gardens, giving out Feth leaves, other event attendees could have approached any member of the trio and begun conversation.

Keat smiled gracefully. With so many realms from far away, it was a boon to have the Lacians send a group as well. "It is always a pleasure for you to grace us,my friends." I trust the journey was not too dramatic, though," Keat raised an eyebrow, " a little bird did tell me of you having found many friends amoung the Inyoni."