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Sirolarn's Coronation as Prince of Zoluren.
- Since this time there were changes made in the Zoluren Keep.
- Lindryl's reading is a bit odd as well.
[Castle, Throne Room] Plush deep red carpet runs the depth of the room from the doors up the steps to the throne dais. An elegant crystal and gold chandelier hangs from a high vaulted ceiling, providing ample lighting. Tall, stained glass windows depicting several events from Zoluren history frame the dais. The floor of polished black marble reflects the brilliance of a gem encrusted crystal scepter resting on a black velvet covered display stand. You also see a podium. Obvious exits: out.
From the wings, soft music begins to play in the Throne Room. A murmur runs through the crowd as the music starts. The music playing in the throne room grows louder.
Sybina arrives, escorted by an attendant.
Sybina smiles and raises her hands again, holding them up for silence.
Sybina says, "Settle down, everyone, please. The Ceremony is about to begin."
Sybina sits down on the first row.
There is a grand fanfare of horns from the wings. A pause...and then the music grows quiet.
MacFrae arrives, escorted by a bardess. MacFrae stumbles forward, looking around the room for where to go. You hear something clink as he walks. MacFrae clenches his silver whiskey flask tightly until his knuckles go white. The music swells around him as he walks.
MacFrae clears his throat.
MacFrae announces, "In honor of this special occasion, I will be performing the song "Once in a lifetime."
MacFrae nods to the musicians.
MacFrae says, "It's by...um...someone...Really Important Person, written before I can remember..."
MacFrae mumbles a little loudly, "...which isn't too far back, after that whisky the other...day..."
MacFrae folds his arms across his chest.
MacFrae sneaks a quick look at a scroll peeking out of his cloak.
MacFrae sings in a countertenor voice:
"This day brings a dawn seen many times By the ageless eyes of the mountains and sana'ati. But we of mortal kin and kith rejoice in its arrival For to us it is 'once in a lifetime.'"
MacFrae clears his throat. The music floats around, smoothly and clearly. It highlights the song and sets a mood of joy.
MacFrae sings in a tenor voice:
"With the storm and turbulence of uncertainty Surrounding the departure of the sovereign before, Comes this ray of true hope through the darkness: A new ruler to shed light upon us once more."
MacFrae takes a deep breath and sweeps his cloak before him. He peeks at something behind his cloak again, his eyes quickly scanning something.
MacFrae sings in a tenor voice:
"With the eternal resolve only found in the mountains A new sovereign guards the hearts and souls of the people. But with a mortal's generosity and grace Shall a true one work to heal them as well."
MacFrae sings in a tenor voice:
"The Thirteen must rejoice on this most portentous of days In which a land is given into keeping of a new sovereign. Keeping witness over each oath and vow taken With their unjudging and merciful gaze."
MacFrae nods as if he's done, and reaches for a flask. His eyes widen as he glances in his cloak again and he stretches his arm out as if he meant to punctuate the verse.
MacFrae sings in a tenor voice:
"Blessed are we that may too observe such a day We young and old, of low station and high, For a dawn when new strength is born in a people Is truly one that is 'once in a lifetime.'"
MacFrae bows low, sneaking a sip of something before standing and looking rather pleased with himself.
MacFrae wobbles over to the row and plops down contentedly.
Wild cheers resound. Another fanfare sounds from the wings.
A pause and then a voice announces, "His Holy Lordship...Sirolarn Tirof-Sorvendig!"
Sirolarn arrives, escorted by a guard.
Sirolarn pauses in the doorway. He is pale, obviously nervous...but he draws himself up and takes a deep breath.
Sirolarn smiles confidantly.
He strolls down the aisle toward the throne.
Sirolarn looks as though this feels like the longest walk of his life.
peer dais [Castle, Throne Room] Plush deep red carpet runs the depth of the room from the doors up the steps to the throne dais. An elegant crystal and gold chandelier hangs from a high vaulted ceiling, providing ample lighting. Tall, stained glass windows depicting several events from Zoluren history frame the dais. The floor of polished black marble reflects the brilliance of a gem encrusted crystal scepter resting on a black velvet covered display stand. You also see a podium. Also in the room: Lord Sirolarn, MacFrae who is seated, Peace Keeper Sybina who is seated. Obvious exits: out.
Sirolarn turns to face the people.
He adjusts the simple white robe he wears...rubs his prayer beads...and then bows deeply to the people.
Sirolarn sits down on the royal throne.
Another grand fanfare resounds. And a voice cries out. "Now let the Guilds proceed!"
MacFrae quietly sneaks a sip from one of his flasks, and then continues to watch what's going on with an innocent look.
Sirolarn sits calmly upon the throne, he watches the doorway quietly.
Kalika arrives, escorted by a woodsman.
Kalika pauses in the doorway and then, gently cradling a young sapling in her hands, proceeds up the aisle to the throne.
Kalika smiles at Sirolarn.
Kalika says, "We of the Ranger Guild present to you this Oak Sapling. Let it represent the lands that we leave in your care."
Kalika says, "Tend to all of Zoluren with the same gentle care as you do this sapling. May it grow strong and true that your rule may grow strong and true beside it. "
Sirolarn stands up.
Kalika raises the oak sapling
Kalika asks, "Do you, Sirolarn, swear to keep the welfare of this sapling constantly in your mind, and to tend to and protect all the lands of Zoluren as you do to it?"
Sirolarn says, "I, Sirolarn, do so swear. I will care for the lands and protect them."
Sirolarn bows to Kalika.
Kalika offers Sirolarn a slender oak sapling.
Sirolarn accepts Kalika's oak sapling.
Kalika curtsies deeply to Sirolarn.
Kalika sits down on the first row.
MacFrae shifts his weight.
Annael arrives, escorted by a attendant.
Sirolarn takes the tree and carefully he turns to plant it carefully in the wooden planter near the throne.
Annael walks slowly and with inherent grace toward the dais, bowing her head slightly to the Prince. She carries with her a mantle of fine violet velvet.
Sirolarn smiles at Annael.
Annael says, "We of the Empath Guild present to you this Mantle. Let its warmth keep you mindful of the welfare and comfort of your people."
Annael says, "Let its weight remind you that the responsibility to provide for them rests on your shoulders."
She studies Sirolarn for a moment thoughtfully, then says, "Do you, Sirolarn, swear to keep the weight of this mantle constantly in your mind, and to bring warmth and caring to all of Zoluren?"
Sirolarn nods somberly.
Annael offers Sirolarn a finely woven violet velvet mantle edged in soft ermine.
Sirolarn says, "I, Sirolarn, do so swear. I will care for the people of my province."
Sirolarn accepts Annael's violet velvet mantle.
Sirolarn bows to Annael.
Annael curtsies deeply and slowly to Sirolarn, and turning, moves to her place in the front row.
Sirolarn puts on a finely woven violet velvet mantle edged in soft ermine.
Annael walks over and sits down on the row with a relaxed sigh.
Sirolarn rubs the soft mantle. He draws it about his as he watches the doorway.
MacFrae brings his hands up together as if to warm them with his breath. He quickly sips at something clutched between his fingers.
Sirolarn glances at MacFrae.
Sirolarn raises an eyebrow.
MacFrae shifts his weight.
Silvyrfrost arrives, escorted by a bard.
Guild Leader Silvyrfrost crosses the red carpet towards the throne dais and Sirolarn. As she reaches the dais, Silvyrfrost sweeps into a low, graceful curtsy before Sirolarn. After a moment, she rises, and looks him steadily in the eye.
Sirolarn turns his gaze to the lovely Bard Mistress.
Silvyrfrost says, "We of the Bard Guild present to you this Hunting Horn. Let the resonant sound it produces keep you mindful of the accord needed in this province."
Lifting the curved golden hunting horn engraved with the crest of the Bard guild, Silvyrfrost displays it for all to see.
She steps forward, and with a flourish presents the Horn to Sirolarn. As he clasps the Horn, Silvyrfrost puts one of her hands over his and gazes at him somberly.
Silvyrfrost says, "May you join all the peoples of the province together harmoniously, guiding them and embracing the differences, as well as the similarities, of all."
Keeping her hand on his, Silvyrfrost continues in a melodic voice that resonates throughout the room.
Silvyrfrost asks, "Do you, Sirolarn, swear to bring the peace and harmony represented by this Horn to all of Zoluren, and to keep it true?"
Sirolarn says, "I, Sirolarn, do so swear. I will bring harmony to these lands and peace to the people."
Silvyrfrost offers Sirolarn a curved golden hunting horn engraved with the crest of the Bard guild.
Sirolarn bows to Silvyrfrost.
Sirolarn accepts Silvyrfrost's golden hunting horn.
Nodding, Silvyrfrost drops her hands to her side, leaving the Horn in Sirolarn's possession.
Silvyrfrost demurely curtsies before Sirolarn, then gives him a saucy wink before moving off to the side towards the first row of seats.
Sirolarn attaches a curved golden hunting horn engraved with the crest of the Bard guild to his belt.
Silvyrfrost sits down on the first row.
Sirolarn blushes a bright red color.
Carefully arranging the lute across her back so as not to damage it in any way, Silvyrfrost settles back, folding her hands in her lap.
MacFrae glances at Silvyrfrost.
Sirolarn admires the lovely gifts from the Guilds that he has so far received.
Sirolarn raises his eyes to the doorway once more, awaiting the next guild.
MacFrae reaches up as if to adjust the cloak about his neck, and nonchalantly sips at something in his hand.
Silvyrfrost raises an eyebrow in MacFrae's direction.
Imaar arrives, escorted by a page.
Imaar enters, head held high.
He strides purposefully down the red carpet towards Sirolarn and the throne.
MacFrae looks innocently at Silvyrfrost.
Imaar says, "We of the Trader Guild present to you this Medallion. Let the balanced scales engraved upon the shining gold keep you mindful of the duties of your position in securing a prosperous future for Zoluren. The scales are symbols of justice and commerce."
Imaar smiles wryly.
Imaar says, "May you weigh your decisions carefully, sure to safeguard the prosperity of your realm when armies and magics are of no avail."
Imaar raises the medallion in one hand and a touchstone in the other.
Imaar says, "As the touchstone guarantees the purity of the gold, so the medallion proves the purity of the ruler."
Imaar asks, "Do you, Sirolarn, swear to keep the perfect equilibrium of these golden scales constantly in your mind as you bring balance to all of Zoluren?"
Sirolarn nods solemnly.
Imaar offers Sirolarn a heavy gold medallion engraved with a balance.
Sirolarn says, "I, Sirolarn, do so swear. I will do my utmost to bring prosperity to the realms."
Sirolarn accepts Imaar's gold medallion.
Sirolarn bows to Imaar.
Imaar walks over and sits down on the row with a relaxed sigh.
Sirolarn hangs a heavy gold medallion engraved with a balance around his neck.
Sirolarn rubs a heavy gold medallion engraved with a balance.
Sirolarn raises his eyes to the doorway once more. He draws himself up straight and does his best to not seem nervous. His hands fidget at his mantle, however, and they give him away.
Darius arrives, escorted by a squire.
Darius walks reverently toward the dais, his shoulders squared and his head raised proudly.
Darius bows to Sirolarn.
Darius says, "We of the Paladin Guild present to you this Shield. Let it represent the protection you must provide to all your people."
Darius taps a polished silver shield engraved with a clenched fist holding a gladiolus bloom.
Darius says, "Know that it is your duty to lead them on the right path and to stand between them and any danger they may face."
Darius asks, "Do you, Sirolarn, swear to use this shield to protect and guide the people of Zoluren?"
Sirolarn says, "I, Sirolarn, do so swear. I will be a shield in the time of danger and will do my best to keep the province safe."
Darius offers Sirolarn a polished silver shield engraved with a clenched fist holding a gladiolus bloom.
Sirolarn accepts Darius's silver tower shield. Darius nods to Sirolarn.
Sirolarn bows to Darius.
Darius bows deeply at the waist then rises to full height again and turns crisply on his heel taking his seat in the front pew.
Sirolarn slings a polished silver shield engraved with a clenched fist holding a gladiolus bloom over his shoulder.
Darius sits down on the first row.
Sirolarn admires the fine shield as it glints in the light.
MacFrae covers his mouth with a hand as a slight look of alarm crosses his face. He turns redder for a moment before seeming to relax a little.
Sirolarn clears his throat.
Annael just touched MacFrae.
Darius stares in stern disapproval at MacFrae.
Agonar arrives, escorted by a guard.
Agonar pauses for a moment in the entryway, his broad shoulders squared beneath the burden of formality. Briefly, he surveys the congregation with penetrating steel grey eyes, his gaze lighting with an almost imperceptible nod of familiarity upon representatives of the Barbarian Guild.
Silvyrfrost glances at MacFrae.
Silvyrfrost clears her throat.
Agonar focuses his attention wholly ahead of him, processing with a battle-tested grace along the aisle, his bearing confident and fiercely proud. His arms fall loosely at his sides, palms facing slightly forward, in demonstration of his unarmed approach upon Sirolarn.
Sirolarn draws himself up and braces before the Barbarian.
Agonar halts at the dais and bows stiffly from the waist. Inclining his head slightly toward Sirolarn, the heavy grey gaze weighs constantly upon the man opposite him.
Sirolarn smiles at Agonar.
Sirolarn nods to Agonar.
Agonar slowly and deliberately moves his hand to the hilt at his hip.
Agonar draws forth a gold-washed steel longsword etched with a leaping lion along the blade.
Agonar says, "We of the Barbarian Guild present to you this Longsword. Let the strength of the blade be imbued in your arm and its sharpness instilled in your mind."
Agonar says, "May it keep you mindful of your duty to charge forward for your people, striking down any that would wish us harm."
Agonar asks, "Do you, Sirolarn, swear to use the keen edge of this blade to strike down the foes of your people, and to bring its strength to all of Zoluren?"
Agonar offers Sirolarn a gold-washed steel longsword etched with a leaping lion along the blade.
Sirolarn says, "I, Sirolarn, do so swear. Let this sword give me strength to lead the people."
Sirolarn accepts Agonar's steel longsword.
Sirolarn bows to Agonar.
Agonar nods a formal acceptance of Sirolarn's vow, the contract sealed.
Agonar sits down on the first row.
Agonar runs an appreciative eye over Silvyrfrost's form.
Agonar winks at Silvyrfrost.
Silvyrfrost blushes prettily.
Sirolarn sheathes his steel longsword.
MacFrae blinks a few times as his eyelids droop a little more.
Silvyrfrost reaches over and nudges MacFrae in the ribs, glaring at him.
Darius glares at MacFrae.
Sirolarn takes a deep breath and glances out over the crowd. He smiles with great care at the gathering and then once more glances at the doorway.
MacFrae sits upright with a start, sputtering.
Gauthus arrives, escorted by a magess.
Gauthus walks methodically up the aisle, eyes intent on Sirolarn as he makes his way over to the dais.
Sirolarn nods to Gauthus.
Agonar glances at Gauthus.
Agonar makes a disgusting grunting noise.
Gauthus inclines his head respectfully towards Sirolarn for a brief moment.
Gauthus says, "We of the Warrior Mage Guild present to you this Scepter. May it represent the power you hold for the entire province."
Gauthus says, "Let it keep you mindful of your duty to use your power for the benefit of your people. Allow it to guide you in knowing when to use the force of Lightning Bolt or the subtlety of Tingle."
Gauthus asks, "Do you, Sirolarn, swear to use the power you hold for the benefit of all Zoluren?"
Sirolarn says, "I, Sirolarn, do so swear. I will temper my power with justice and be fair and wise in my dealings with the lands and the people."
Gauthus offers Sirolarn a golden scepter inlaid with stones to represent the elements.
Sirolarn bows to Gauthus.
Sirolarn accepts Gauthus's gold scepter.
Gauthus nods at Sirolarn, then swiftly turns around and walks towards the first row.
Gauthus walks over and sits down on the row with a relaxed sigh. Sirolarn glances at his Warrior Mage scepter. He waves it slightly and then pauses, apparently rethinking that action...
Sybina clears her throat.
MacFrae starts to list to the right as his eyes get heavy lidded again.
Annael glances at MacFrae.
Silvyrfrost rolls her eyes, sighing in exasperation.
Sirolarn stands tall and proud, he holds the scepter carefully as he changes hands.
Sirolarn moves a golden scepter inlaid with stones to represent the elements to his left hand.
Agonar pats Silvyrfrost on the knee and tips her a wink.
Silvyrfrost raises an eyebrow in Agonar's direction.
Estrile arrives, escorted by a prophet.
The G'Nar Leader Estrile leads an entourage of purple-robed prophets as she walks deliberately and with carefully measured steps towards the dais. Though she neither moves with a limp nor shuffles her feet, a curious dragging sound accompanies her steps.
Estrile says, "We of the Moon Mage Guild present to you..."
Sirolarn nods to Estrile.
Estrile shifts her weight.
Sirolarn raises an eyebrow.
Estrile rummages through a simple rough felted hooded robe of purple concealing all but the face and hands with a frantic look of loss.
Estrile blushes a bright red color.
Sirolarn smiles kindly.
Estrile gets an etched brass telescope case inlaid with a sprinkling of diamonds from inside her purple robe.
Estrile beams! Estrile opens her brass telescope case.
Estrile rummages through an etched brass telescope case inlaid with a sprinkling of diamonds but it's clear she hasn't a clue if what she is looking for is there.
Estrile gets a polished rosewood telescope with gold fittings from inside her brass telescope case.
Estrile taps a polished rosewood telescope with gold fittings.
Estrile glances at a polished rosewood telescope with gold fittings.
Estrile says, "...this Telescope."
Sirolarn nods to Estrile.
"Let it represent the clear sight a ruler must always possess. May it be used to look forward to a great and brilliant future for the province, while yet remaining heedful of what has come before."
Estrile peers quizzically at Sirolarn.
Estrile asks, "Do you, Sirolarn, swear to keep your sight clear while looking forward to a promising future for Zoluren?"
Sirolarn says, "I, Sirolarn, do so swear. I will keep in mind the lessons of the past and look to making a grand future for this province."
Sirolarn bows to Estrile.
Estrile puts her telescope in her brass telescope case.
Estrile offers Sirolarn an etched brass telescope case inlaid with a sprinkling of diamonds.
Sirolarn accepts Estrile's brass telescope case. Estrile's voice drops in pitch and she intones:
"As is the custom these prophets offer you the gift of a glimpse of fate. Shall you hear our words?"
Sirolarn smiles at Estrile. Estrile smiles.
[Castle, Throne Room] Plush deep red carpet runs the depth of the room from the doors up the steps to the throne dais. An elegant crystal and gold chandelier hangs from a high vaulted ceiling, providing ample lighting. Tall, stained glass windows depicting several events from Zoluren history frame the dais. The floor of polished black marble reflects the brilliance of a gem encrusted crystal scepter resting on a black velvet covered display stand. You also see some purple-robed prophets, a wooden planter bearing a young sapling and a podium. Also in the room: G'Nar Estrile, Guildmaster Gauthus who is seated, Agonar who is seated, Guildleader Darius who is seated, Merchant Prince Imaar who is seated, True Bard Silvyrfrost who is seated, Guild Leader Annael who is seated, Guildleader Kalika who is seated, Lord Sirolarn, MacFrae who is seated, Peace Keeper Sybina who is seated Obvious exits: out.
Sirolarn says, "I would be honored, indeed."
A group of purple-robed prophets consult amongst themselves.
A group of purple-robed prophets peer at the Prince.
Sirolarn puts on an etched brass telescope case inlaid with a sprinkling of diamonds.
A group of purple-robed prophets continue to consult amongst themselves.
A group of purple-robed prophets intone: Here be our gift to you new Prince Through near times of darkness a torment awaits. While in shadows the Web weaves our Fates Our minds are stayed on thee...
A group of purple-robed prophets mutter to each other. One takes a step forward peering at the Prince.
A purple-robed prophet intones: This darkness is no darkness plain, Yet truth makes dark as clear as day: Still other darkness may hold sway, Our minds are stayed on thee...
A group of purple-robed prophets scream at each other their voices rising in shrill cries. One of their number is pushed forward by the others.
A strong feminine voice intones: Thus your fate shall come to pass, Like your forbearers failed to see. That Dark and Light are revealed to we. Whose minds are stayed on thee.
Some purple-robed prophets bows to Sirolarn.
Some purple-robed prophets just went out.
Sirolarn listens closely. He bows as well and then is silent.
Sirolarn nods to Estrile.
Estrile asks, "And the tip Milord?"
MacFrae leans further to the right while no-one is looking and sneaks another sip from a flask.
Sirolarn says, "I thank you, and your..."
Darius stares at MacFrae, his lips pursed thinly and irritation flickering in his hazel eyes.
Sirolarn says, "I..." he stammers a moment..."well..." he pulls out empty pockets...."I am not carrying any money..."
Imaar rolls his eyes.
Estrile says, "Ah, perhaps another day."
Estrile sits down on the first row.
Sirolarn smiles at Estrile.
Sirolarn walks over and sits down on the throne with a relaxed sigh.
Estrile leans forward.
MacFrae adjusts his rumpled blue robes.
A sudden fanfare rings in the air. A voice calls out from the wings. "And now, our Honored Guest, Lindryl Jinsaith, will read the traditional reading."
Lindryl arrives, escorted by a mariner.
Lindryl glances up and the mariner who escorted her and smiles at him tenderly, then glances across the crowds in the pews.
Lindryl wobbles off-balance a moment, then regains her air of solemn dignity as she carries an ancient volume bound with metal hinges to the dais. She places the book reverently upon the podium, bows her head briefly, then opens the massive book at a spot marked by a golden ribbon.
Lindryl glances over the crowd and begins to speak in a loud, clear voice, "On this historic day in the 361st year since the victory of Lanival the Redeemer we have gathered to bear witness to the ascendancy of the next prince of Zoluren."
She nods her head toward Sirolarn.
Sirolarn smiles with care at Lindryl. He listens reverently to the reading.
Lindryl almost smiles back, then catches herself.
Lindryl continues, "In this public votive of well-wishing and support for our future prince, we are all joined in the assurance that His Majesty Sirolarn Tirof-Sorvendig's character and judgment will guide him through his reign and be remembered in the same light as his predecessors in the illustrious and celebrated tradition of the Sorvendig dynasty as well as that of Lanival the Redeemer, by which we mark the years."
She pauses a moment and looks over the crowd. "With these hopes in our hearts, with both sorrow and joy, we gather for the Ritual of Title that has signified passage of the crown from Prince to Prince."
Lindryl takes a breath, then in a slightly softer voice, begins to read from the book on the lectern.
"Charisma and character alone do not the true ruler make. What qualities must the leader of men diligently develop within himself?
This is not an easily answered question, nor one that should be taken lightly. It has plagued all who have been placed in a position of great power. It is an enigma which even the Dragon, the Redeemer, Lanival himself, struggled with on the eve of the climactic clash between his forces and those of Teiro which would be known to history as the great Battle of the Dragon Spine."
"The inevitable and seemingly unwinnable battle that he faced against the Elven forces weighed heavily on the mind of the Redeemer. Not only had his armies been dealt a horrendous blow by the rank magic of the Elven lord, but morale was soon fading amongst his previously dedicated solders as they were being pressed further and further against the sheer walls of the Dragon's Spine."
Lindryl pauses momentarily, then continues reading. "Yet, spells in the employ of Teiro's magi, capable of slaying entire divisions of soldiers at a time, did not go unnoticed. Just as hope looked the bleakest for Lanival and his men, the Guardians Eerayn, Silduaa, and Glacis revealed themselves to him and pledged their support while he was wandering the woods pondering the looming conflict."
"These beings, taking the form of the dragon, wielded the power to mold the world in favor against the mortals that inhabit Elanthia. While their aid would soon serve to tip the tide of battle in favor of the Redeemer, greater questions beleaguered his already overwhelmed sensibilities."
Lindryl raises her voice, "It is clear that I am to lead the soldiers of Elanthia in resistance to the ascendancy of Teiro," he spoke on that fateful evening. "Yet, how am I, one considered naught more than a wastrel in my own community, to inspire the hearts of these men and women to give their lives for the cause that I believe in so passionately? Why should they follow me? What merits have I over the authority of my equals?"
Lindryl's voice deepens as she reads, "Lanvial, my friend," replied Glacis, "your role as a leader of men has been woven deep into the autumn of your life. The strands of that thread stretch beyond into the far future. Your abilities will carry you through troubled times such as these."
Varying the pitch of her voice again, she continues reading, "I will not question your sagacious prediction, my friend, but I fear that the loyalty of my men lasts only as far as their passion for the cause for which we are fighting. What qualities have I in me that will ensure support and stir a man to action?" questioned the Redeemer.
Once again using a stronger tone, Lindryl reads, "Compassion," Eerayn responded, the moonlight reflecting shafts of color off of her golden scales. "The true leader of men always keeps the shutters of his heart open. He is merciful, faithful, humane, frank, and pious."
"For while, strong deeds may win the battle, the fortress of personal loyalty is built with the golden bricks of admiration and benevolence and is impenetrable by any form of physical attack. Keep this in your mind, Lanival, for as the words of the battle cry state, 'You may walk with a thousand regrets, but the people do not forget.'
"No matter how many mistakes you may make, they will never fail to remember an act of mercy and kindness and will always be willing to repay it."
Lowering her voice to a scratchy hoarse tone, Lindryl continues. "Strength," whispered Silduaa from the darkness of the shadows. "The true leader of men always maintains the force of steel. He is tough, vigorous, unyielding, and cautious. For while compassionate deeds may win a man's heart, the understanding that comes with personal loyalty rests on the twin pillars of awe and solicitude."
Sirolarn leans back in his throne. He nods slowly at the words of the reading and smiles knowingly. He seems less nervous, growing more comfortable in his robes and rainments.
"Men are forever impressed by appearances and results while only passingly fascinated with good intentions. Remember these words, Lanival, for as the battle cry states," 'You may walk with a thousand regrets, but the people do not forget.' "Although you may have to take actions which you may later lament, they will never forget the fortitude that you have shown and will always respect you for it."
Sirolarn nods to Lindryl.
Lindryl again alters the pitch of her voice. "I agree whole-heartedly that compassion and strength are very admirable qualities in a man, but how may I temper a balance between these two extremes which are often in such constant opposition?" Lanival asked.
Lindryl turns the page, then continues reading. Glacis, lifting a shrewd eye towards the man that stood before him, responded after some time: "Justice. The true leader of men is able to balance his mercy in conjunction with his determination. He is righteous, fair, evenhanded, and moral."
"What inspires men more than compassion and strength is a man that can consistently navigate the stormy waters that lie between them. When the true test of decision comes, rely not on mercy to all, pursue not the harshest of all possible actions, and rely not on the battle cries of others. Follow your balance and moral compass, for they will never lead you astray." Lindryl glances at Sirolarn and smiles.
"And this was the wisest advice of all. Guiding himself with a balance of valued traits of the Guardians, Lanival grew to be the leader of men he was destined to become. The Dragon. The Redeemer. The Legend."
Sirolarn smiles at Lindryl. Lindryl closes the book carefully, then gazes steadily at Sirolarn as she tells him,
"This account the Redeemer did render to Wulfenroh Sorvendig, who would become the first reigning Prince of Zoluren, in the hope that by these words he might instill in him the qualities necessary in the eyes of gods and men to rule well. Sirolarn stands up.
"In that same hope it has been read to each new sovereign whenever the succession has passed. And so now too, Sirolarn, I urge you to heed Lanival and your predecessors and continue to display those qualities in your every action, just as you have demonstrated them these last few months." Lindryl curtsies to Sirolarn. Sirolarn bows low to Lindryl. Annael sighs contentedly.
Lindryl bows to the guild representatives. Lindryl walks over and sits down on the row with a relaxed sigh.
A sudden fanfare resounds.
A crier calls out. "and now, The Clerics." Sirolarn takes a deep breath.
Tallis arrives, escorted by a shaman.
Tallis treads with slow and methodical grace down the length of the plush red carpet, up the steps to the dais, smiling with serene benevolence to Sirolarn once she arrives.
Tallis holds a scalloped gold crown aloft, its gem-encrusted points sparkling like a cluster of brilliant stars.
Sirolarn bows deeply and kneels before Tallis.
Tallis says, "We of the Cleric Guild present to you this crown. Let its weight remind you that you that you are first and foremost a servant to this province. Zoluren and its people are now your burden, and your responsibility."
Tallis gives a stern, yet motherly smile to the young Sirolarn. Tallis says, "I now ask that you swear this solemn oath, before those you will serve."
Tallis places her pale alabaster hand upon Sirolarn's forehead.
"Do you, Sirolarn, swear to reverently and humbly serve all thirty-nine Immortals, the land, and the people of Zoluren? To set an example in honor and piety, and rule with an even hand, always tempering justice with mercy? To make room for the followers of all deities, from Albreda to Aldauth?"
Sirolarn says, "I, Sirolarn, your humble servant, do so swear."
Tallis nods slowly and smiles softly. Tallis places the crown upon Sirolarn's head with gentle, elegant movements. Tallis raises her hand in holy benediction.
G'Nar Leader Estrile smile at Silvyrfrost, sorry about that..
Tallis says, "Rise, m'lord Sirolarn." Sirolarn nods to Tallis. Tallis recites:
"I now present to you all, Prince Sirolarn of the Province of Zoluren."
Sirolarn bows to Tallis.
Annael beams at Sirolarn!
Tallis bows with swift grace to Sirolarn and steps back away from him.
Sirolarn wipes a single tear from his cheek and smiles kindly.
G'Nar Leader Estrile softly snores.
Lindryl elbows Estrile gently.
Agonar stands and bows deeply to Sirolarn.
Darius glares at Estrile.
Annael stands up.
Applause sound all around the room and the music swells gently.
Silvyrfrost stands up.
Lindryl stands up.
Estrile rubs her eyes.
MacFrae starts and sits upright again, woken up by his chin hitting his chest. He blinks and looks around as if nothing happened.
Annael curtsies to Sirolarn.
Kalika stands up.
Sirolarn says, "May I..."
Darius stands up.
Imaar stands up.
Estrile stands up.
Silvyrfrost sweeps into a deep curtsy before the new prince.
Gauthus stands up.
Lindryl curtsies to Sirolarn.
MacFrae stands up.
Sirolarn nods to Lindryl.
Kalika curtsies to Sirolarn.
Gauthus bows to Sirolarn.
Lindryl smiles at Sirolarn.
Imaar bows to Sirolarn.
Sirolarn nods to all the Guild leaders in turn.
Darius bows respectfully before the new prince.
Sirolarn exclaims, "I would like to say...a few words to you all gathered here!"
Agonar offers an arm to Silvyrfrost.
Lindryl sits down on the first row.
Sirolarn beams out at all of you. "I will keep it short..."
Annael takes her seat again.
Imaar offers an arm to Kalika
Silvyrfrost slips her hand in Agonar's arm.
MacFrae looks around, trying to figure out if he should sit or stand. Sirolarn says, "I just want to tell you all..."
Kalika stands near Imaar holding his arm.
Sirolarn says, "that I was never meant to be here...not born for this honor am I."
Sirolarn says, "But..." Sirolarn nods.
Sirolarn says, "I will rise to the position. And I will honor Zoluren, all my days."
Sirolarn bows deeply to you all.
Sirolarn says, "Meraud's blessings to you."
Sirolarn says, "Now...off with you...to the ice dome. "
Agonar leads a round of applause.
Sirolarn says, "Enjoy the Ball."
Estrile raises her arms skyward, chanting.
Estrile seems to be concentrating intently on something.
MacFrae clenches his silver whiskey flask tightly until his knuckles go white.
The air around Estrile begins to shimmer.
Lindryl stands up.
Estrile shimmers out of sight.
MacFrae lets out a long sigh of relief.
Silvyrfrost glances at MacFrae.
Sirolarn chuckles at MacFrae.
Tallis gives a soft, serene smile.
Sirolarn wanders over and pats MacFrae on the back.
Sirolarn bows to Tallis.
MacFrae whispers to Silvyrfrost, "Thought I dropped my flask."
Sirolarn says, "M'Lady."
Sirolarn smiles at Tallis.
Silvyrfrost rolls her eyes.
Silvyrfrost joins Agonar's group.
Silvyrfrost nods to Agonar.
Sirolarn smiles at Sybina.
Annael smiles at Sybina.
Agonar places his free hand over Silvyrfrost's and smiles warmly at her.
Tallis bows low before Sirolarn and swiftly sweeps outward, amongst the rustling of her simple white robes.
MacFrae casually observes the area.
A thick plume of smoke begins to rise from the ground unexpectedly. A moment later, Meressa steps calmly from out of the smoke as it dissipates slowly away.
Agonar glances toward Sirolarn as if waiting for something.
A bardess just escorted MacFrae out.
Lindryl scans the crowd for her escort, then smiles warmly.
Sirolarn smiles at Agonar.
Agonar says, "After you, Sire."
A guard just escorted Agonar out.
Sirolarn says, "He always does that"
A mariner just escorted Lindryl out.
Silvyrfrost curtsies to Sirolarn.
Sirolarn bows again to you all.
Sybina stands up.
Sirolarn says, "My thanks, for your gifts."
Sirolarn says, "again."
Sirolarn says, "they were lovely."
Darius nods to Sirolarn.
Annael smiles at Sirolarn.
A bard just escorted Silvyrfrost out.
You get an odd feeling that someone is watching you.
Annael says, "Live up to them, sire."
Sirolarn says, "I shall."
Annael says, "Our faith is with you."
Sirolarn bows to Annael. A attendant just escorted Annael out.
A squire just escorted Darius out.
Merchant Prince Imaar just went out.
A mage just escorted Gauthus out.
Sybina smiles at Sirolarn, filled with pride in serving, then bows before rendering a salute.
Peace Keeper Sybina just went out.
A woodsman just escorted Kalika out.
A page just escorted Sirolarn out.
peer dais [Castle, Throne Room] Plush deep red carpet runs the depth of the room from the doors up the steps to the throne dais. An elegant crystal and gold chandelier hangs from a high vaulted ceiling, providing ample lighting. Tall, stained glass windows depicting several events from Zoluren history frame the dais. The floor of polished black marble reflects the brilliance of a gem encrusted crystal scepter resting on a black velvet covered display stand. You also see a wooden planter bearing a young sapling and a podium with a massive metal-hinged tome on it. Obvious exits: out.