Troth - She has to listen - Chyril 22 MT

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Troth - She has to listen - Chyril 22 MT

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Even from a distance, the Council Lodge stands out: its base is a perfect circle, the half-dome that covers it so high that even the tallest of Trothgardians can comfortably stand along its circumference.

A plume of white smoke issues from the top of the lodge, for it is law that a fire must burn whenever the Council is ready to make decisions, render judgments, and mete out justice -- and the Council is always ready.

Unlike the simpler, portable homes of hides and wooden frames, the Council lodge is made of more permanent construction. Its only adornment is a band of wood, three-quarters of the way up the dome, carved simply and starkly with a procession of runic symbols.

When you step inside, you realize that the lodge is actually two circles: an outside waiting area, shielded from the wind and cold, shaped like a crescent around the central circle here the Council meets.

You can only catch a quick glimpse of the interior of the lodge -- walls hung with furs for warmth and decoration, colorful banners draped from the high ceiling -- before two spears are crossed in front of the opening. The entrance is guarded by two warriors from a rotating guard hand-picked from among the clans, all young women who have already distinguished themselves in combat.

There are several other people milling around the outer circle of the tent, from all strata of Trothgardian society -- women and men, young and old -- even slaves.

You are fixed with an icy stare as one warrior, tiger-eye gleaming in her braided hair, deigns to notice you. "State your business here," she says, her hand steady on her spear.


Lori had wasted no time, for there was no time to lose. Despite the fact that she had wanted to go back to the Margeir settlements first, to assure Rosa (who she had missed terribly) and perhaps also Eirrin that she was still alive...and maybe also to have a proper meal, she entered Rimmerhold and marched straight up to the Council Lodge before a single ounce of her determination could dissolve.

The stocky warrior at the entrance stared Lori down, and, to her obvious surprise, the gaze of the young slave in front of her was just as unwavering and icily fierce. "I need to speak with the Council. It is very urgent!" Lori said, in a ringing, clear voice.
Vanadius
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Post by Vanadius »

The warrior looked at Lori up and down, appraising, calculating, evaluating.

"Come."

She led the slave girl inside and through a mass of women warriors poised on the fringes of the entryway to great hall to maintain order if necessary.

Inside, the carved steps were filled with many of the inhabitants of Rimmerhold. Tradesmen and women, servants and elders mixed and mingled throughout the crescent shaped hall.

The Kona's seat was empty, and Mother Eirrin could be seen sitting to the right of the great empty chair with several members of the Margeir clan.

Hex was here, in the middle of speaking with a stranger, speaking of food and killing someone.

OOC: Lori, please join us in the other thread! :)
Vanadius
Moderator & Coordinator Terra West
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Post by Vanadius »

Joined with the other thread. Archiving...
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