#earthrunes

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At Earth Runes, Coradel finds herself adorning her finest... be it finest armor as a warrioress baroness who held the hold against all odds on behalf of her lord and thus became lady lord of the land herself, or as the epitome of feminine allure in flowing gown? Well, that was her call.

She looks between her options, uncertain.

The good news? Subtle hints have been made, that the Baroness of Earth Runes, as the lord who called her ward, both stood against the dark when others were either ignorant of it, or worse? Complacent. These hints, carefully crafted by Herald Innish and Scribe August- have been heard. Coradel may not be immediately embraced as First Among Equals- but it is agreed that she will be Oathed first and Oath given in return, and that for this event a seat of high honor.

She’s aware of the honor of the order, and has expressed her gratitude to both herald and scribe for their help. “I think...the gown,” she says to August.

Across the hold, in her little blue chamber, Sparrow sits, and SITS, patiently, as her lady-in-waiting dresses her hair into a formal coiffure. All else in respect, Amelia is very good with the "frippery" aspects of her duties. Deryn can deal with it.

"There, with hair like that, you never need a crown"

"But I do have a coronet... should I wear it, you think?"

August nods with a smile. "-You- don't need armor or weapons to be a warrior." He says gently.

His voile is different today. Dark grey with silver-thread piping, a square-collared military tunic with silver frogging and dark blue leggings tucked into black boots. Medals and ribbons decorate the breast of his tunic, and it is belted by his white-and-silver laurel leaf knight’s belt, with its spots of tarnish. A golden sword with a centipede pattern on the sheath hangs from his side; it is a Treasure. Across his shoulders is a royal blue cloak pinned to him with the Truthbranch badge.

"Oh, of course" Sparrrow's lady in waiting tends to it.

Placing said circlet on her head.

"If I may make a suggestion?" Innish says to Coradel assuming he is allowed in for this selection and consultation?

Sparrow closes her eyes, allowing Amelia to work - there is little "human" left after the kinain's attentions. Elegant silver jewelry, flowing silk, gilded feathers... she is a creature of fire and air, a dream of beauty.

"oh." Sparrows lady in waiting swallows

"Oh?" She opens her eyes, bright emeralds. "Is there something wrong, Amelia?"

"Just, you shine so much I lost track everything. You are every inch a shining host indeed, Baroness."

"You're kind. And very skilled - thank you for your help, I'm hopeless at hair - look at this! Wonderful!"

"working with silk is a joy" She steps back

"Well, thank you." She rises, neatly re-folding hr wings. "I shall be gone for the rest of the evening, I think. Do take your ease?"

"I shall, thank you. "

Th Liam flashes a smile before making her way towards the trods, to wait for the other Turthbrnches.

MEANWHILE, Innish's suggestion turns out to be , a box? Ah, but within that box, are warrioress' bracers, not fully closed, no- that might denote shackles instead, but strong and beautiful crafted of mithril silver, Mithril having been once very rare but freeholds in New Zealand say mines have opened up ever since the lord of the rings trilogy. Upon it a design of the Fiona Lion with feminine and militant heraldry. Embattled, unbroken. And a motto under it in latin.

"Oh...Innish, these are perfect." She reaches to try one on, to make sure it doesn't clash with her treasure bangles. "What is the wording here?"

"That is not a motto you must take, but both elegant and militant as the bracers themselves... Sir August can correct me if I'm wrong, but I think the translation is 'By Love, I Triumph!'"

August chuckles, and leans in to read the design. "That's it. And, true." He smiles at Coradel.

A warm smile. "Oh...yes, it suits. Very well." She settles both bracers on her wrists. "Wherever did you find these?"

"Find? My lady, Baron Nemasus left them for you... he knew he would die, but he left a set of five gifts ...to be given to you at the right time as Shalimar or I saw fit, though I thought the duty would fall to Shalimar by now. It was not finished in design, but was ordered in general well in advance. This is... the first of the five. "

August gives Innish a grave, even awed, look, then turns to Coradel.

Her hand flies up to cover her gape-mouthed reaction. "He...I...I didn't know...."

"I do not think he meant them to bring tears, Baroness. He was a hard man, but not cruel."

A wavery grin as the tears do come. "It's not cruel. Not at all. It's...I just wasn't expecting to remember his great kindness at that moment."

(at the trods) Magnus straightens his outfit, "Where on Earth is mother? How like women, eh sparrow?"

A female troll thane's eyes narrow, and she looks at Sparrow, "If he's upset you chancellior, my polearm could... 'slip' weak as we women are?"

"Allow me to finish here. Go...Delores can help me with the finishing touches. August, I'll be along in a minute."

"Oh, it certainly could... Magnus, patience. There's going to be a lot of people watching her tonight."

"Fine.. just, you know, Beltaine is soon and... I don't know. Do the days seem weirder to you? Taking forever to get here? Just me?" A deep breath.

"I'm looking forward to Beltaine." A smile, feathers fluffing out. "Best holiday."

August slips an arm around her waist, mute and warm comfort.

He nods, and presses a kiss to her cheek before leaving.

"So am I, if it just.. you know, hurries" Magnus mutters

August waits for Coradel outside their rooms, and escorts her to the trods.

(As they leave the rom) Sir August and Innish bow and with draw... they step to see Shalimar. He looks at Innish with BIG Eyes... Innish gives a rather subtle 'thumbs up' and Shalimar pumps the air...not subtle at all

August gives them both a soft smile. "Nicely done, gentlemen."

"Soon enough."

When Coradel emerges, the skirts of her red gown, shot through with silver threads, flow with each step she takes. Her hair is a strategic combination of intricate braids holding back wild red mane, silver filigree adornments here and there. She bids a thankful farewell to those staying behind, and goes to meet the others at the trod, her hand on August's arm.

The Truthbranches are joined, and Magnus bows to his mother, "Okay, I see what took so long. Apologies, mother . I never should have doubted."

She smiles and touches Magnus's cheek. "You are forgiven, my son. Next time, the guillotine." She winks. "Deryn, you look magnificent."

"Thanks, Cora..."

Magnus himself is dressed in Swashbuckling finery, minus the sabre. He nods to his father, "Pretty fancy yourself, father. Are we ready, Innish?"