Welcome to Gaia! ::

Moriko nodded to the girl in thanks. She had never been particularly good with words and so she didn't say any more. Instead, she looked to her friend once again. Seeing that Sig had been helped up, she quickly jogged over to her to make sure that her friend was unhurt.

"Are you okay?" She asked as she looked the girl over. "The fall didn't hurt you did it?" Momo knew she was probably worrying too much, but she couldn't stand the thought of her best friend having been hurt. Especially with the collapse of their home land. They very well might not even have a Silver Kingdom left to go back to after this. The thought should have saddened her more, but really it didn't. Other than her friend and her work, momo didn't have any particular ties to the Kingdom, not emotional ones anyway. She supposed that was part of what made her such a great ambassador.

"Hey Sig," She started off slowly, keeping her voice low so that no one else could hear them. "You think maybe we should find a place to talk about what happened?"

"Terribly useful, yes, but you rarely see a situation where it actually works," the king replied with a proud look. "Far too much concentration this way, but it gets the job done. But yes, a tale for a tale then!" He offered a hand to shake, grinning. "Horror or humor, there've been a string of stories about gallant heroes and drunken stupors gone wrong I could regale you with. No time to tease now, but . . . Oh alright. Two words: velociraptor race."

And then with a wink the clone vanished.

~ ~ ~

Mort was already impressed the rogue wasn't calling him the usual "Your Hornyness", though certainly the bloody-nosed and touseled guards spoke for themselves as well. "Afterwards, afterwards!" he called to the speedy form of the dhampir, laughing softly. "You've made your point, Sir Thief, but I must ask you to stand still on the stage with the rest for now. Then you can bounce about." He seriously wanted to see a jig done after pomp and circumstance, alright?

~ ~ ~

To Archne, the clone of the king speaking with the trio who had come before her turned his head and inclined it with a welcoming smile. "Another willing warrior, excellent! A mixed set like this will be very sound, I'd think . . ." He wanted to pry as was his curious nature, but with time winding down he couldn't put forth the question he would normally ask. Perhaps afterwards, when the ceremony was officially done.

(( You're good, dear! ))

~ ~ ~

The king-clone with Julian was pleased to hear an example to go along with his experience, tapping his cheek thoughtfully. Scars especially came to his interest, having one across his face from a particularly racy encounter. "Tricksy little things, goblins; enough can overwhelm even the most experienced adventurer. Be glad it wasn't pugwampis, friend, those luck snatchers nearly did in an old friend of mine years ago." His mouth spread into a smile in spite of the memory. "But I welcome your skills, Ranger Julian, and ask that you stand on the stage with the rest."

He then turned to the silver ambassador with him and inclined his head with a small flourish of his cape as she rose. "Well met, Sigrún Valdis~" Another came to her side, and Mort quirked a brow when he heard something about a fall. Oh, the itch to ask . . . But Silvians were rather neutral to the other kingdoms, so he held his tongue. "And welcome to you as well. Are any of you in need of medical attention, out of curiosity?"

Always curiosity.

(( I can't get everyone right now, but I'll get the rest after classsss ))

While the appearance of multiple Kings was a bit astonishing on its own right, the Faerie was not given the proper amount of time in which to analyze, or even ask after such a marvel. Instead her attentions were once more captured by others, half by Alexander and his list of indiscretions (one of which should have included that large quantity of flowers pilfered from Belladonna's shop and delivered to the castle with a note she had not written, though perhaps she had elected to keep that particular incident between them) and the remainder of her attention given to the numerous Kings that now milled about. What a curious trick that was!
She did so hope there would be time to inquire after it later, but for now she turned her face up to the duplicate that addressed her. It was a duplicate, right?
The faerie stood still, her hands clasped together in front of her while she waited and kept her head tilted to one side to indicate her interest in his reply. The way his mouth turned did not brighten her, but she still kept a blithe smile up that eventually turned into more when a familiar weight fell upon her head.
A happy grin was turned up to the Tiefling, who really had always received nothing if not warmth and friendship from the foot shorter faerie. The other woman's words were noble, the brash and bold things Belladonna always expected from her dearest Ofelia, and when she dared to nuzzle her faerie, said faerie was more than pleased to rub her cheek back, though a hand did disengage to touch the flowers that dotted her own hair and make certain they were still safe.

Yet the kings words, and judgement, made the faerie bring her gaze back up to him, her smile softened into diminishing as he spoke. Even the kind smile he gave could not coax her own back out, not until he deemed her worthy. When the call for simply standing on the stage was given, she momentarily opened her mouth to protest, but instead closed it and replaced her smile for him.
"Of course, your majesty." Belladonna replied with a bow of her head as she swept past and dared to let her fingertips brush against his arm. The action was covered up by a turn of body that she directed at Ofelia, an action that meant she would not go without her friend and wanted her on stage next to the faerie. That was, of course, when she realized others had joined their party, namely others from the Silver Kingdom. Quietly she nodded at each of the new comers, a small, sympathetic smile for each of them before she turned back to climb on stage.
Only... "I think you have made yourself vastly clear, Alexander..." The faerie spoke up to the dodging and whirling form of the dhampir, as well as the multiple guards who still fretted after him. And in a gesture all too familiar to the dhampir, Belladonna popped a hip and fixed him with a flat look. A hand was flapped at them before she climbed up on stage, basket of flowers still in tow, though she did her best to keep away from the thief's... Show.

Moriko nodded her head in agreement to her friend. It was best that they keep what had happened a secret from every one else until they figured out what they were going to do. Silver was neutral with the other Kingdoms and she didn't expect any trouble from this one, but she could never be too careful.


"Thanks to uh... some helping hands I'm quite unhurt but I appreciate your asking. However when you have a moment we should probably discuss a few things with you. I certainly don't want to interrupt whatever it is that you are all int he middle of." Moriko told the King. "Your Majesty." She hastily added as she remembered that she was in a foreign land. Momo wasn't one for courtesies but she knew when she should use them and this was likely one of those times. At least until she understood the culture of this new Kingdom better.

Moriko was anxious to talk to Sigrún, but she knew she should wait for the King to dismiss them before the two simply ran off. They were strangers here and she didn't want to do anything that would hurt their good standing.

"Ah, my liege, could you truly find it in yourself to deny a Nord his birthright - to die in glorious battle and feast in the halls of champions?" His smile was broad as he examined the other King replicas, ever amused by just what the man was capable of doing. It was fitting that the King of muse could do such marvelous things.

"To be fair, though, I do enjoy the thought of making a charm spell look like a child's toy. Let the Gods decide what may happen." His tone held an edge of finality, one that the King had heard before. Alexei respected his King, and would do anything to him, but he could be quite stubborn when it came to matters of battle, like any good Nord.

His brow piqued at the silver ambassadors, wondering just why they were here. Best to just ask. "My King...what is the Silver Kingdom doing here? Has the truce not been called off?"

"If I die, then I die. En't nuthin' t' fret o'er. T'is a grand kingdom fer th' likes o' me t' live in. T'would be an 'onor t' die fer ye, Sah." Blake replied, straightening out of his bow with a slight impish gleam in his eyes. "I take it ye've ne'er seen a Shardmind a'fore. Granted, I en't a normal-lookin' 'un..." The urge to show off his talents was overpowering, but he knew he must restrain himself. After all, this was the king, not a simple citizen! Even if said king was a copy. As it was, his eyes seemed to glow brighter with the effort of holding back.

To those still offering their services, the king-clones gave pleasant smiles and small nods, a thoughtful stroke of the chin or a mumbled comment to himself about this or that or another - but all in all the horned king was pleased with the turnout, and each clone chirped a thank you and noted for the candidate to turn towards the stage, if they would please, before ]poofing out of existence.

Finally there was just one Mort still standing, a white rose in his vest and the strange compass in his hand. With those he had asked to move on stage in place, he stood before them and silenced the crowd once more, turning the object in his hands idly as he approached people one by one.

He moved to Sophie and Sin first, green mist-like auras radiating from the compass. “To the one whose ingenuity allows for an entire apothecary inside one robe, and to the one who commands grace in whatever form she takes, I grant the title of Champion,” he said clearly, offering them both particular items they would wear to proudly show as such, emblazoned with the appropriate symbol. “May you support your fellow warriors as well as prevent them from coming to harm.”

Next were Julian and Ofelia, who received a similar greeting and felt the soft aura of Muse radiating from the king. “To the one who has lead many and snatched victory from the jaws of defeat, and to the one whose power and fury is unrivaled, I grant the title of Champion,” Mort intoned, tapping the compass so that the swirling muse manifested about them in an item that would identify their status as well – a belt, a holy symbol, an engraved mark on their armor. “May you find the courage and strength to fight even when the night is bleakest.”

To Alex, the king gave a wry grin he could not help and clutched the compass just a little bit tighter. “To the one too slippery to ever be caught, I too grant the title as Champion,” he said, to the quiet sighs of a few guards. “May you continue to elude and confound your enemies as you have the law – and may Lady Luck follow you even where I dare not tread.” The dhampir too was presented an object with the sigil of his new rank – perhaps one of the few things he could never have been able to steal.

Last stood Belladonna, though he wished there was another way. The king stood before her with the same expression he had the rest, though up close she could see he was conflicted about this arrangement. “And finally, to the one who has shown understanding, patience, and passion regardless of who she speaks to or what she does, I grant the title of Moderator,” he announced, and the Muse surrounding his compass swirled to present the faerie with an object emblazoned with a different symbol than the rest. “May you guide those with you with the same clarity you’ve governed yourself, and may you shield them from misfortune.” He stared her down as he spoke, willing her to read the thoughts behind his eyes before, with the slightest brush of her arm, he turned back to the crowd.

“To those remaining whom I’ve spoken to, step forward. Let me commend you for your valor thank you for offering your services in what will soon be a time of war. As my Soldiers of Fortune, I grant a shard of my power.” The king held his hand out and made a strange gesture, and with a soft hum of power green shards appeared before each and every remaining candidate; they would integrate on their own into their clothes, weapons, or jewelry. “Know that you walk with the might of your king with you, and know that when others fall it is you who must rise to the occasion to take their place.

“Now cheer, citizens!” In spite of the solemn occasion, Mort had to grin, to try and lighten things. “Cheer for the brave men and women who have come to serve! And let the festivities continue so that they may relax and prepare for the days to come.”

Someone popped open a keg and amber ale spewed forth into the air with a hiss. And like the banner initiating a race, the surrounding crowd erupted into wild applause and drunken calls.

(( In case you couldn’t tell
Julian/Ofelia = Knights
Alex = Bishop
Belladonna = Mod
Sin/Sophie = Rook
Everyone else = Pawn…for now (~owo)~

It’d be awesome if I could get a quick blurb of personalities from everyone as well for the front page! Now’s the time to mingle while you can! ))