[Empire] A Conclave at the House of the Pale Lady

[QuintonBeck]

House of the Pale Lady
Winter 110

It was funny how white the snow was even without the veil. Ayasa bent down to scoop up a handful of the white powder in her thinly gloved hand and watched it melt and wet the silk before she dropped it back to the ground. Looking up she could see the banners of the northmen of Aardrosil marching up the mountain trail and turning around the wafting smoke of the town at the northern foot of the mountain. She wondered whether this smoke was the returned living smoke of fireplaces and forges or still the horrible smoke of burning houses and dead the Nifhel had wrought when they encamped within the invaded region some months back. She pulled down piece of thin white cotton that hung just past her nose and above her lips, marked with swirling light blue patterns along its side that marked her as a Priestess of the Pale Lady and to the especially well versed as the Veiled Lady herself. It was of a marked resemblance to her entire ensemble, a long dress of white sleeved and fur lined to stave off the chill.

Looking about the House, its simple wooden construction resembling a cottage grown larger set with fire pits in its three primary sections Ayasa remembered first seeing the House and being astounded at its rustic simplicity. Offended might have been a better word. The idea that the Veiled Lady sat in nothing more than a mighty longhouse. But she had been young and impetuous, twenty years had seen that edge removed and her appreciation for the locale developed. The deep stone tunnels that ran beneath and held ancient knowledge, the simple bunks where all of the Priestesses slept together. The meditation hall and the public center where any might come and speak with the priestesses or the Pale Lady through prayer.

Lady Ayasa hoped this conclave was not a mistake. She had heard from the poor refugees of Chief Herod the mercilessness of the Great Clans of Nifhel but she hoped these were but tales of frightened folk who had lost their homes. The north was no stranger to war and the conflict of men and while the House tried to quell such violence its influence had faded in the decades prior. Now, perhaps, with the restoration of the Lords Paramount titles to the mighty realms south of the House order could be restored as it had once been held. These Nifhel were little different than the tales of ancient northern raiders and the old books talked of having wrought peace with them once, Ayasa hoped it might be done again. Already such successes, with the conversion of the Cacique of the sprawling Cahoosa Confederation, and the hopefulness of integration with the other titled Lords, as well as the defeat and capture of K'juuda the Ravager. The House was well positioned and if these Nifhel could be reasoned with perhaps war might be over and a new age of prosperity might begin.

The Lords Paramount, Ehv'amhyr an Khuuldrumm of Aardrosil, Cacique Atohi Santos of Cahoosa, King Adriendel Sharpclaw of Hortis, and Master Architect Kuldir Ironsong of the Wandering Clans had all been summoned and a request to Harbringer Lochbar of the Nifhel had been sent to discuss resolving the issue of the Nifhel's seeming intent to attack the House without violence. It was hoped that this matter could be and would be resolved, but time would tell if these plans would bear fruit.

[Geckus]

Brushing a light dusting of snow from the thick hair on his head and shoulders, Kuldir adjusted the light traveling cloak that was his sole concession to the cold of these northern lands as he approached the House that was the spiritual center of the religion practiced by so many of the people that had come to rely on the drimma for guidance and protection. That it was such a simple building surprised him; in his many years of wandering human lands, observing their varied peoples and cultures, he had discovered that they almost always attached ostentatious displays of wealth to anything of importance. He found it heartening that the priestesses here did not. Though he longed for a closer examination of the structure of the House, Kuldir found himself drawn towards a woman, a priestess by her garb, who stood seemingly lost in thought on the grounds of the House.

"Greetings to you priestess; I apologize if I am disturbing your reverie, but would you know if those called by the Lady have arrived? I had hoped for the chance to speak with her before the Conclave truly began, but the roads, or lack thereof in places, have me here later than intended."

[Tychris1]

Harbringer Lochbar sniffed the air, the smell of horse dung and rotting flesh thick around him as fumes wafted up towards his burned nostrils. He looked back at the riders flanked around him, hardened warriors and jaded marauders all who had seen so many lives perish that the tang of blood in the air was like a second wind to them. Each of them were handpicked soldiers recruited from Clans scattered throughout Nifhel, fighters who competed and jockied for the position of fighting and riding beside the single man who had defied Nifhel history and brought relative peace amongst the greater clans. All save one, the Herald of Pestilence Drepsòtt as she was called, rode with them. Pestilence was currently busy negotiating with Clan Hardrada last Lochbar heard of the Horsemen, and so he could not be here to personally witness the "Conclave". Though it was probably more beneficial for him to distance himself from this event anyway, even as the Harbringer expanded the reach of Nifhel far beyond what any previous Clan Leader could have dreamed there were those back home who laughed at Lochbar and decried him for even considering this peace talk. Negotiations with the heathens? These outsiders who didn't even speak the holy tongue? It was a change from the old ways, the ways of chopping flesh and dragging the mutilated corpses of your enemies children through their villages.

The ways of the Fimbulvintr.

But change was not always bad, had it not been for the change in power that lead to Lochbar's ascendancy then Nifhel would have still been stuck within its borders stuck to endless bickering and machinations. Let them think what they want, let them snicker and scheme behind closed doors far away from him, and even unite under some new figurehead who will "Bring back the old ways". It will make it easier when he crushes them all in one brutal display of his power, the Harbinger was not above playing a fool, and lulling his foes into a false sense of security would be all to easy. Dismounting from his horse, he raised a fist and clenched it signaling for his riders to stay where they were. He gestured to Drepsòtt with two fingers, pointing towards her and then towards the earth right beside him, and in a few brief seconds she was standing next to him as if she were always there. Striding forward, the Harbinger was significantly shorter then his companion (And most of the men in Nifhel) as he stood only 6'2" next to her 6'5" but he was no less intimidating. Enshrouded in fortified armor of bone and leather, bits of metal and tanned skin covering him from head to toe in the skeleton of a bear. The skull was specially carved with symbols of Nifhel and wrapped around it were two horns carved from a caribou gifted to him a few months ago. A massive great sword was sheathed against his back, a crude tool who's blade was chipped and damaged, faded from extensive combat use, and yet still properly regal and ornate in its pommel and handle design. A far shorter sword hung to his hip, dangling from his left side, and flanked opposite by a small buckler made of wood and inlaid with platinum. A long black beard braided with two knots hung down from his bear skull helmet, flecks of salt and pepper spread thinly throughout, and was the only easily discernible facial feature of the Harbinger. Drepsòtt also obscured her face with a skull helmet, though hers was of a smaller equine painted with rare dyes acquired from beyond the lands of the north in the mysterious lands across the great waters. Her armor was slightly less reinforced then the Harbingers, composed more of leather then his, and it suited her for going on long treks through forested or mountainous areas.

Approaching the Temple, Harbinger Lochbar stared up at it and scoffed. Such a deceivingly simple building, to hide such a disgusting and inferior clergy of heretics. Stopping in his tracks, he picked up a handful of snow and slowly clenched his hand into a fist, watching the snow flakes slip through his fingers or melt. When he opened his hand most of the snow was gone save for a compressed and hardened ball of ice. It was ironic, almost symbolic of his reign, and control of the realms he conquered so recently. Discarding the ball of hardened snow, the Harbinger continued his trek until he stopped at the temples entrance, hands in his furred coats pockets as he awaited whatever limp wristed greeter was waiting to fawn over him with platitudes.

[QuintonBeck]

Brushing a light dusting of snow from the thick hair on his head and shoulders, Kuldir adjusted the light traveling cloak that was his sole concession to the cold of these northern lands as he approached the House that was the spiritual center of the religion practiced by so many of the people that had come to rely on the drimma for guidance and protection. That it was such a simple building surprised him; in his many years of wandering human lands, observing their varied peoples and cultures, he had discovered that they almost always attached ostentatious displays of wealth to anything of importance. He found it heartening that the priestesses here did not. Though he longed for a closer examination of the structure of the House, Kuldir found himself drawn towards a woman, a priestess by her garb, who stood seemingly lost in thought on the grounds of the House.

"Greetings to you priestess; I apologize if I am disturbing your reverie, but would you know if those called by the Lady have arrived? I had hoped for the chance to speak with her before the Conclave truly began, but the roads, or lack thereof in places, have me here later than intended."

A smile crept across the uncovered lower half of the priestesses' face disappearing at the corners beneath her veil. The shorter thick wide man must have been Kuldir, the drimma she had heard them called. A race of architects and builders who had relieved the disparate and struggling people lost when the previous Lords Paramount had faded and left their people to fend for themselves. She had heard the drimma stood with their old gods, spirits of the ancestors and their people, relying on the secular provisions they made for the people the governed over to bind them. It was a reasonable assumption and Ayasa did not begrudge the drimma their retention of their ancestral ways but she still held hope that they might be convinced to convert. Of course, such convincing required time and conversation.

"The Pale Lady has not deigned to make her presence today," Ayasa answered, "But if you seek the Veiled Lady you have found her Master Ironsong. I see the tales of your people's propensity for architecture is not exaggerated that you took note of the poor state of roads reaching our venue. Unfortunately time has done to the infrastructure that once bound these lands what hordes of heretics could never do. Perhaps, if this Conclave goes well I may yet request your artisans and architects come to see to the roads around the House."

"But forgive my preoccupation with the Conclave. You are among the first to arrive among the Lords Paramount and so we have yet time before it begins to speak. I had hoped to be present to greet the other Lords as they arrived but I shall send for one of the priestesses to take my post and alert me when the next arrives. Let us move inside where the fires burn."

Ayasa turned and led Kuldir towards the longhouse cottage, stepping up a few stairs to a thick framed wooden door, pulling it open with a practiced ease despite its weight and ushering the drimma inside. The interior was no more ostentatious than the outside. A great fire burned at the far end and the room was noticeably warmer for it. Tapestries, rich with age and detail, hung like banners depicting what must have been moments of great myth and legend within the House of the Pale Lady's canon. The floor was wooden but overtop it was lain thick carpets marked with wear but obviously well maintained and thickly cushioned pillows sat around in a circle that seemed prearranged for the number of involved parties.

"Come, let us sit by the fire. You are no doubt cold from your journey and we may speak of what you wish as we await the next arrival."

Approaching the Temple, Harbinger Lochbar stared up at it and scoffed. Such a deceivingly simple building, to hide such a disgusting and inferior clergy of heretics. Stopping in his tracks, he picked up a handful of snow and slowly clenched his hand into a fist, watching the snow flakes slip through his fingers or melt. When he opened his hand most of the snow was gone save for a compressed and hardened ball of ice. It was ironic, almost symbolic of his reign, and control of the realms he conquered so recently. Discarding the ball of hardened snow, the Harbinger continued his trek until he stopped at the temples entrance, hands in his furred coats pockets as he awaited whatever limp wristed greeter was waiting to fawn over him with platitudes.

The northern side where the Harbinger approached was monitored by priestess Halia, a girl of fourteen years who Ayasa relied on and trusted to carry out her duties without hesitation though still too young to be directly involved in the Conclave's events for the evening. She wore a thick cloak atop her normal attire, a lent gift from another within the faith to accent her thin frame and insulate her from the chill. As the mighty warband of the Nifhel approached the cold seemed to bite her closer and she drew the cloak tightly around her. Mustering the courage to approach the girl stepped out from the shelter offered by the small alcove between sections of the House and approached the Nifhel hoard.

"Greetings to you lord Harbinger Lochbar," the girl's voice was almost carried away with the wind but she forced herself to speak louder, "I welcome you two representatives of the Nifhel. Please, enter to partake in the Conclave."

[Geckus]

Kuldir offers a deep bow from the waist when the priestess identifies herself as the Veiled Lady, though his eyes do not leave her veiled face, taking belated note of the blue patterning along the edge of the cotton - subtly different from those that had marked the veils of the few priestess he had seen in the past. Following her into the longhouse, he smiles at the ease with which the door opens, making note of the hinges, oiled with no spots of rust, and the proper hanging of the door within it's frame that allowed it to swing so smoothly.

"My apologies for not identifying you correctly, my Lady; part of why I wished to speak with you was in the hopes of addressing such failings."

Hanging his cloak of plain grey wool on a peg beside the door, Kuldir crosses the room to join the Lady by the fire at it's far end. His eyes pass over the tapestries as he goes - not his craft, but he can admire the workmanship and the beauty of the works. Waiting for the Lady to sit before settling himself into the cushioned pillows near the fire, he chooses a place nearest to the blaze, where the heat would dry his snow-dampened hair quickly enough.

"The first and greatest of those things I wished to discuss with you is this; a great many of the people who have chosen to accept the Clan's stewardship, our hand of friendship, follow the teachings of this House. In order to understand what is best for them, to guide them in good faith, I need to know more of those things they value, for their needs and desires are not always the same as those of the drimma. And so I would ask your blessing to send one of my Architect's here, to learn as would one of your priestesses. Please understand that I do not mean as a priestess, for we are children of the First Architect; but to learn alongside them, so that we may begin to understand the hearts of those people who follow the Pale Lady and find a path to balance their needs and ours."

Several of his Architects had already begun building relationships with the priestesses of the Pale Lady in their areas of influence, but Kuldir was convinced that it was here, in the center of their faith, that the truest examples of what they believed would be found.

"The second matter lies in the title you would have me take. You must first understand that my actions up to this point have not been guided by faith, but by honor and the best interests of my Clans and those people we have stewardship of; I say this not as an insult, but for the sake of clarity. If I am to accept the title of Lord Paramount, I must know it's obligations and duties, for those are things that no drimma has ever taken lightly."

A hint of emotion colors Kuldir's voice at this last point, as he thinks of the thousand he sent to their deaths over a point of obligation - volunteers all - despite the lord of that realm's failure to defend his own people.

[Psilulz]

Ehv'amhyr walks up the mountain paths with a small cadre of Pathfinders, all clad in a combination of hide and armor. Ehv'amhyr himself is clad in a mixture of leather armor with a few plates over larger portions of his body. On his back rests the skin of a white bear, the top of it's head resting atop Ehv'amhyr's. The Noorden druids had once said that the bear was a symbol of endurance and tenacity. Quilled into the back of the bear are countless pitch-black raven feathers, a symbol of knowledge, each bearing Noorden runes in white, together boasting of Ehv'amhyr's feats. Slung accross his back, a large Noorden-sized hand-and-a-half sword.

Finally reaching the summit, he approaches the Temple, appreciating the simplicity (and similitary to Noorden design) of the building. He asks whichever priestess greets him, "Where is the Veiled Lady?"

[QuintonBeck]

Kuldir offers a deep bow from the waist when the priestess identifies herself as the Veiled Lady, though his eyes do not leave her veiled face, taking belated note of the blue patterning along the edge of the cotton - subtly different from those that had marked the veils of the few priestess he had seen in the past. Following her into the longhouse, he smiles at the ease with which the door opens, making note of the hinges, oiled with no spots of rust, and the proper hanging of the door within it's frame that allowed it to swing so smoothly.

"My apologies for not identifying you correctly, my Lady; part of why I wished to speak with you was in the hopes of addressing such failings."

Hanging his cloak of plain grey wool on a peg beside the door, Kuldir crosses the room to join the Lady by the fire at it's far end. His eyes pass over the tapestries as he goes - not his craft, but he can admire the workmanship and the beauty of the works. Waiting for the Lady to sit before settling himself into the cushioned pillows near the fire, he chooses a place nearest to the blaze, where the heat would dry his snow-dampened hair quickly enough.

"The first and greatest of those things I wished to discuss with you is this; a great many of the people who have chosen to accept the Clan's stewardship, our hand of friendship, follow the teachings of this House. In order to understand what is best for them, to guide them in good faith, I need to know more of those things they value, for their needs and desires are not always the same as those of the drimma. And so I would ask your blessing to send one of my Architect's here, to learn as would one of your priestesses. Please understand that I do not mean as a priestess, for we are children of the First Architect; but to learn alongside them, so that we may begin to understand the hearts of those people who follow the Pale Lady and find a path to balance their needs and ours."

Several of his Architects had already begun building relationships with the priestesses of the Pale Lady in their areas of influence, but Kuldir was convinced that it was here, in the center of their faith, that the truest examples of what they believed would be found.

"The second matter lies in the title you would have me take. You must first understand that my actions up to this point have not been guided by faith, but by honor and the best interests of my Clans and those people we have stewardship of; I say this not as an insult, but for the sake of clarity. If I am to accept the title of Lord Paramount, I must know it's obligations and duties, for those are things that no drimma has ever taken lightly."

A hint of emotion colors Kuldir's voice at this last point, as he thinks of the thousand he sent to their deaths over a point of obligation - volunteers all - despite the lord of that realm's failure to defend his own people.

Letting the bearded man finished Ayasa nodded silently before answering.

"We have not had an uninitiated come to live with us for some time. I believe the last one was a bit over a century ago. You see, we welcome any willing to learn into the priesthood but to live alongside and learn our ways without commitment is a mighty honor to lend. Do not misunderstand my reticence for unwillingness, I am most eager to work with you and your people but perhaps you might understand the analogy of allowing a friendly but unknown man the right to listen to war council meetings and the private discussions of your family while the man refused to make any oath of loyalty to your crown or house? I should be welcome to allow one of your drimma to come and train as a priestess but for now, as we both discover more about the other, I must bend to caution as you do."

"I am aware you are not guided by faith, but faith guides you nonetheless. Those who you have bound yourself to through honor have bound themselves to this House and the Pale Lady. The people whom your drimma shepherd hear her words and mantras just as they hear the requests and orders of your Architects. You are already in obligation as a lord of faithful to the majority of the duties to be held as a Lord Paramount. To defend the faithful within your realm. To allow the practice of the Pale Lady to prosper within your lands. As Lord Paramount your only further duty would be to pledge defense of this House and the Pale Lady's servants here on earth, her priestesses and acolytes. Already you are by proxy bound through your honored word given to Aardrosil. Aardrosil who in our desperate time rode forward to defend us as we called for help, turning back the Nifhel once and now arriving to turn them back once more."

She paused, "You may of course refuse the title. Return it that I might grant it to another or leave it empty but it is a symbol as much as it is a responsibility. There was a time, known now only in old histories and tales of legends, when the Four Lords Paramount, united in common cause and belief, defended and preserved the northern lands from the malicious interests of southrons, islanders, rebels, and barbarians. Union, was said to have existed. A time of peace and great prosperity. I see in yourself, your line, and in the lines of the others whom the Pale Lady has recognized the chance to restore this former greatness. Already many of your have bound yourselves through secular oath and together have defeated a blasphemer and now arrive here to fend away another. A foundation, guided by the Lady has been forged, free from this House. We here see it and wish to grant its union our blessing and recognize its divine grant."

Ehv'amhyr walks up the mountain paths with a small cadre of Pathfinders, all clad in a combination of hide and armor. Ehv'amhyr himself is clad in a mixture of leather armor with a few plates over larger portions of his body. On his back rests the skin of a white bear, the top of it's head resting atop Ehv'amhyr's. The Noorden druids had once said that the bear was a symbol of endurance and tenacity. Quilled into the back of the bear are countless pitch-black raven feathers, a symbol of knowledge, each bearing Noorden runes in white, together boasting of Ehv'amhyr's feats. Slung accross his back, a large Noorden-sized hand-and-a-half sword.

Finally reaching the summit, he approaches the Temple, appreciating the simplicity (and similitary to Noorden design) of the building. He asks whichever priestess greets him, "Where is the Veiled Lady?"

Ery'ka, a Noorden herself, recognized the Aardrosil design of the Khuuldrumm's attire immediately as that of her homeland and while she had never seen the mighty Ehv'amhyr in her sixteen years before leaving to make a pilgrimage to the House she had no doubt that was who now stood before her.

"This way," she answered in her native Noorden tongue leading Ehv'amhyr into the House itself where Ayasa and Kuldir appeared to be wrapping up their conversation.

"Ehv'amhyr an Khuuldrumm my lady," Ery'ka curtsied lightly and backed behind the Aardrosil leader while Ayasa rose with a smile crossing her face.

"Greetings! Please, take a seat by the fire and warm yourself up. Thank you for coming to this Conclave. We meet in person at last. It is such a joy that I might see the face of our Lady's first defender."

[Psilulz]

Ery'ka, a Noorden herself, recognized the Aardrosil design of the Khuuldrumm's attire immediately as that of her homeland and while she had never seen the mighty Ehv'amhyr in her sixteen years before leaving to make a pilgrimage to the House she had no doubt that was who now stood before her.

"This way," she answered in her native Noorden tongue leading Ehv'amhyr into the House itself where Ayasa and Kuldir appeared to be wrapping up their conversation.

"Ehv'amhyr an Khuuldrumm my lady," Ery'ka curtsied lightly and backed behind the Aardrosil leader while Ayasa rose with a smile crossing her face.

"Greetings! Please, take a seat by the fire and warm yourself up. Thank you for coming to this Conclave. We meet in person at last. It is such a joy that I might see the face of our Lady's first defender."

"Thank you priestess." Ehv'amhyr says, in Noorden, as the Ery'ka excuses herself.

"A pleasure to see you in more than ink, Veiled Lady Ayasa," He says as he approaches her, kneeling in front of her. "And to see the heart of my people." It is an awkward motion, kneeling, from a height just short of seven feet. Ehv'amhyr looks over to Kuldir and rises.

"And you, Grand Architect Ironsong, a great honor to see the one who saved so many of my people against the bloodthirsty K'juuda." Again, Ehv'amhyr kneels. "I am indebted to you."

After giving proper thanks and greetings, the Noorden takes a seat by the flames.

[DurkBlanston]

This was the first time Atohi had left the domain of the Confederation and he was already finding it irritatingly cold to his middle aged bones. His nephew and heir, Salal, still a young man, was required to turn back and help his uncle over some of the mighty snowdrifts. The two traveled with only a small contingent of warriors, whose primary purpose was to hunt and keep predators back during the nights of their journey. They were bundled up in deerskin leathers thicker than they wore in any stretch of the Confederacy. A number of these skins had been purchased in the Brey-An roaming lands as they passed through on their way north, the Cacique making an event of his appearance and meeting with a number of the more prominent herdsmen. Their simple language was not conducive to much long conversation but they seemed to understand the Cacique's presence was the presence of someone of importance.

In truth Atohi found the creatures were disturbing to witness in such close detail but their lands and their warriors were renowned and by joining them to the Confederation they might be directed and controlled. Their violent tendencies and cruel pastimes would be unleashed as dark spirits upon their enemies. Enemies, the Cacique reminded himself, he was now to visit. His conversion to the Pale Lady, away from the holy faith brought to the Cahoosa by the Captain Santos had caused more than a little unrest within Kagun itself though with the outlying territories holding to the words of the Lady and with the developments along the north and east with the Confederation's neighbors its benefits well outweighed its costs. Time would come to pass away the objections of his contemporaries and he suspected by the time of rule for Salal the Pale Lady would mark an important moment of turning within Cahoosa history. First Daen brought steel to the tribe and now the Pale Lady brought to them a mighty kingdom.

Arriving at the large but simple wooden house at the peak of the mountain Atohi dismissed his warriors and approached the holy ground with reverent gaze cast down alongside Salal. The two approached the nearest priestess that might allow them inside.

[Geckus]

Letting the bearded man finished Ayasa nodded silently before answering.

"We have not had an uninitiated come to live with us for some time. I believe the last one was a bit over a century ago. You see, we welcome any willing to learn into the priesthood but to live alongside and learn our ways without commitment is a mighty honor to lend. Do not misunderstand my reticence for unwillingness, I am most eager to work with you and your people but perhaps you might understand the analogy of allowing a friendly but unknown man the right to listen to war council meetings and the private discussions of your family while the man refused to make any oath of loyalty to your crown or house? I should be welcome to allow one of your drimma to come and train as a priestess but for now, as we both discover more about the other, I must bend to caution as you do."

"I am aware you are not guided by faith, but faith guides you nonetheless. Those who you have bound yourself to through honor have bound themselves to this House and the Pale Lady. The people whom your drimma shepherd hear her words and mantras just as they hear the requests and orders of your Architects. You are already in obligation as a lord of faithful to the majority of the duties to be held as a Lord Paramount. To defend the faithful within your realm. To allow the practice of the Pale Lady to prosper within your lands. As Lord Paramount your only further duty would be to pledge defense of this House and the Pale Lady's servants here on earth, her priestesses and acolytes. Already you are by proxy bound through your honored word given to Aardrosil. Aardrosil who in our desperate time rode forward to defend us as we called for help, turning back the Nifhel once and now arriving to turn them back once more."

She paused, "You may of course refuse the title. Return it that I might grant it to another or leave it empty but it is a symbol as much as it is a responsibility. There was a time, known now only in old histories and tales of legends, when the Four Lords Paramount, united in common cause and belief, defended and preserved the northern lands from the malicious interests of southrons, islanders, rebels, and barbarians. Union, was said to have existed. A time of peace and great prosperity. I see in yourself, your line, and in the lines of the others whom the Pale Lady has recognized the chance to restore this former greatness. Already many of your have bound yourselves through secular oath and together have defeated a blasphemer and now arrive here to fend away another. A foundation, guided by the Lady has been forged, free from this House. We here see it and wish to grant its union our blessing and recognize its divine grant."

Kuldir nods his shaggy head as the Ayasa speaks.

"I see no reason not to accept the title now that I better understand what it means; it seems I would be remiss in my duties to my people to do otherwise. I know not if we can live up to the examples of Lords Paramount past, but peace and prosperity are worthy goals for any to strive towards."

"Given the analogy, I understand your reluctance to have one not of the faith within your House...I had not considered the request in such a manner." Kuldir thinks on the matter for a time, hands absently stroking his voluminous beard. "You do not know the drimma, and so are rightly cautious. Perhaps an advisor would be a better first step? A priestess of your choosing staying as my guest within the Clan House, with whom I might consult when making decisions that could impact your faithful. Such a posting might lack the opportunity to commune with the faithful on a regular basis, but I do not think they would find it lacking in the opportunity to serve their faith. Then perhaps after a decade or two, when we have come to know one another better, we might revisit the conversation."

"Thank you priestess." Ehv'amhyr says, in Noorden, as the Ery'ka excuses herself.

"A pleasure to see you in more than ink, Veiled Lady Ayasa," He says as he approaches her, kneeling in front of her. "And to see the heart of my people." It is an awkward motion, kneeling, from a height just short of seven feet. Ehv'amhyr looks over to Kuldir and rises.

"And you, Grand Architect Ironsong, a great honor to see the one who saved so many of my people against the bloodthirsty K'juuda." Again, Ehv'amhyr kneels. "I am indebted to you."

After giving proper thanks and greetings, the Noorden takes a seat by the flames.

Kuldir raises a hand in greeting as the great Noorden leader kneels before him, hiding a smile at the realization that even bent as he was, he'd barely reach the giant human's head if he were standing.

"Greeting to you Ehv'amhyr an Khuuldrumm; there is no debt between us, only the honoring of an agreement that I hope will grow into a proper friendship between your people and mine. Though I do hope that we will have greater success at forging a peace other than that of the sword with these Nifhel."

[Tychris1]

The Harbinger looked down at the girl, his head tilted slightly as her gibberish words deflected off of his ears, and soon turned his head back to face Drepsòtt. The tall Nifelic women leaned into his ear and whispered to him, her time spent exploring the heathen lands offering her ample time to learn the tongue of the South (Alongside the Fisherman Slave that her rival Herald Kvöl had captured and extracted information from), and after properly translating her greeting Lochbar sternly nodded his head and continued forward. Grabbing a hold of the door with a single hand and a grunt of effort, the Harbinger opened it wide and strode onward with the same imperial stance he held on the trek up the mountain. Pulling back his hood, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a few strands of raw meat to chew on, and handed his coat to Drepsòtt for her to fold and place within her backpack. Ever a few steps behind him, the Herald of Pestilence also removed her protective jacket once she entered the temple, and placed it alongside the Harbinger's. Sniffing the air, Lochbar scrunched up his face in disgust as his senses were filled with simple yet undeniable heresy. Were it not for the fact that he kept his gaze straight ahead and walked himself to the fire place where this "Conclave" seemed to be centered in he would have vomited at the sight of so much religious paraphernalia. Drepsòtt on the other hand absorbed every detail of the Temple as she took her seat alongside the Harbinger, her gaze roaming to and fro as her eyes deconstructed her surroundings and her hands felt the carvings and designs.

Now seated, the Harbringer remained deathly quiet, his hand outstretched towards Drepsòtt to his left, and after a few seconds of adjusting her armor to sit properly she pointed her head straight to the floor and uttered in a broken form of the trade tongue.

"Not my boat. Me shall speak for the Harbinger and be his terrain-slator. Do not address him dire-ctly."

[QuintonBeck]

Once all the concerned parties had arrived Ayasa moved to stand in front of the fireplace, addressing the assembled delegates.

"Allow me first to thank you all for agreeing to this Conclave and arriving with haste. To the Lords Paramount I know the Pale Lady smiles on you for recognizing her House and Her holy calling, to the Nifhel I thank you for recognizing the preference for peace. That we are all strangers I shall dispense with wandering analogies or idle talk. We seek to end this war before it leads to further loss of life and so I make this offer to the Nifhel that if backed by the Lords Paramount I believe shall be conclusive in a satisfactory way."

"Harbinger Lochbar, remove your Great Clans from the lands along the northern border of the House and surrender these lands to the Lord Paramount of the North. Pledge your clans neutrality and peace to the realms south of the pole and be left in peace in turn."

OOC: Sorry for the brevity, busy week but I wanted to get terms up

[Tychris1]

Drepsòtt listened to Ayasa, mouthing some of her words along behind the facade of her equine helmet, and thinking of the proper translation to what she had said. Still keeping her head lowered, she leaned over to the Harbinger and spoke to him in their rough and thumping tongue. The Harbinger didn't react at first, his hand stroking one of his braids before a small chortle rattled throughout his body and caused the bones he decorated himself in to clatter and add a macabre laughing overtone. Gesturing to the fire place with his hand, he spoke indirectly to Drepsòtt as if he were telling some kind of native story. Tilting her head, Drepsòtt took off her helmet and stared at the Harbinger, her face betraying her complete sense of disbelief at what he was saying. She narrowed her eyebrows for a second, her blue tainted scars creating a sort of war painting along her forehead and eyes, and quickly rescinded the gesture after a quick glare from the Harbinger. Lowering her head once more, she covered her brunette pony tail with her helmet and translated his message.

"We will have newt-tral-ity with your "Lords", but these lands are of the Fimbulvintr. His snowy grip touches them. Give us the one they call K'ju-hda, and we will buffer your building from foreign assault."

[QuintonBeck]

Drepsòtt listened to Ayasa, mouthing some of her words along behind the facade of her equine helmet, and thinking of the proper translation to what she had said. Still keeping her head lowered, she leaned over to the Harbinger and spoke to him in their rough and thumping tongue. The Harbinger didn't react at first, his hand stroking one of his braids before a small chortle rattled throughout his body and caused the bones he decorated himself in to clatter and add a macabre laughing overtone. Gesturing to the fire place with his hand, he spoke indirectly to Drepsòtt as if he were telling some kind of native story. Tilting her head, Drepsòtt took off her helmet and stared at the Harbinger, her face betraying her complete sense of disbelief at what he was saying. She narrowed her eyebrows for a second, her blue tainted scars creating a sort of war painting along her forehead and eyes, and quickly rescinded the gesture after a quick glare from the Harbinger. Lowering her head once more, she covered her brunette pony tail with her helmet and translated his message.

"We will have newt-tral-ity with your "Lords", but these lands are of the Fimbulvintr. His snowy grip touches them. Give us the one they call K'ju-hda, and we will buffer your building from foreign assault."

"Only a defender of the Faith may share a border with the lands surrounding the House. The lands at the northern foot of this mountain are filled with faithful and so should be ruled by faithful. Unless you are offering to convert to the Pale Lady I'm afraid this is impossible. However, I do believe the issue of K'juuda and Chief Harod is an important one. I believe a fair exchange of these leaders would be equitable."

[Tychris1]

"Only a defender of the Faith may share a border with the lands surrounding the House. The lands at the northern foot of this mountain are filled with faithful and so should be ruled by faithful. Unless you are offering to convert to the Pale Lady I'm afraid this is impossible. However, I do believe the issue of K'juuda and Chief Harod is an important one. I believe a fair exchange of these leaders would be equitable."

Still chewing on his meat, the Harbinger continued relaying his messages through Drepsòtt who almost fumbled over her tongue trying to quickly translate.

"W-Who are you to speak for them? Their previous protection was inad-inadeq-Urgh, Bad. Their riders weak and ill trained, perhaps they want something more? We offer to release Chief Harod to rule over his former people, but as a Vassal to the Harbinger, and the return of K'ju-hda. The Riders of Nifhel will not take anymore of your lands for equal neutrality. These are our terms. So says the Harbinger, so says the Fimbulvintr."

[QuintonBeck]

Still chewing on his meat, the Harbinger continued relaying his messages through Drepsòtt who almost fumbled over her tongue trying to quickly translate.

"W-Who are you to speak for them? Their previous protection was inad-inadeq-Urgh, Bad. Their riders weak and ill trained, perhaps they want something more? We offer to release Chief Harod to rule over his former people, but as a Vassal to the Harbinger, and the return of K'ju-hda. The Riders of Nifhel will not take anymore of your lands for equal neutrality. These are our terms. So says the Harbinger, so says the Fimbulvintr."

"Is your realm even capable of administering to a vassal?" the Veiled Lady's tone betrayed her belief that the Harbinger was not, "I have heard of many rebellions within your own lands. Their protection was inadequate, yes, but with the restoration of the Lords Paramount," Ayasa swept her hands towards the others present, "That is no longer true for I have seen to it. Thousands gave their lives to protect this House and I shall not abandon them to faithless conquerors."

"No, I am afraid I cannot allow a blasphemer such as K'juuda to hold dominion in lands at the foot of the Lady's House. Return to polar reaches and accept neutrality between your realm and the Lords Paramount. Exchange Harod for K'juuda. This we can agree to."

[Tychris1]

The Harbinger tilted his head as Drepsótt continued to translate Ayasa's message into his native tongue. Motioning vigorously with his hands, he thrusted a thumb behind him towards the North he called home. "You hurt me by thinking K'ju-hda would have any power in Nifhel. He is a coward and was caught in battle, dishonorable. He holds dominion over the feeding trough of my horse. He means nothing to me, but his riders see something in him, and I am a Horsemen at heart," Drepsòtt paused for a second as she tried to think of a word, promptly arousing a light jab from the Harbinger to go on "Some of our lands are unstable, but even now my people take root. Speak to the locals and see if you wish. No peasant has raised a blade to the Harbinger yet."

[QuintonBeck]

The Harbinger tilted his head as Drepsótt continued to translate Ayasa's message into his native tongue. Motioning vigorously with his hands, he thrusted a thumb behind him towards the North he called home. "You hurt me by thinking K'ju-hda would have any power in Nifhel. He is a coward and was caught in battle, dishonorable. He holds dominion over the feeding trough of my horse. He means nothing to me, but his riders see something in him, and I am a Horsemen at heart," Drepsòtt paused for a second as she tried to think of a word, promptly arousing a light jab from the Harbinger to go on "Some of our lands are unstable, but even now my people take root. Speak to the locals and see if you wish. No peasant has raised a blade to the Harbinger yet."

OOC: I had thought the proposal was K'juuda as vassal my bad.

"I do not believe you have answered my question. Are you even capable of administering a region through a vassal? The intricacies of your government I leave to you, I report only what I have heard of dissatisfaction. If you cannot administer to your own people nor claim a kingdom mightier than vast holdings of a warlord then I cannot in good conscience ask Harod to submit himself to your rule while defending the House."