"I can never resist a good story," Monique nods to Sparte, settling herself down in front of the Iron Guardsman and the altar. "Oh, Guardsman Jyri! So good to see you again. I've got just the stories picked out for your son, when next you come in to the Gilded Page."

Lisebet enters quietly, pausing to look around. She smiles as she recognizes at least some of the folks already here. "Lady Monique, Master Sparte," she greets gently, as her steps take her in their direction.

Stefano, a studious man, 1 Malespero guard arrive, following Carissa.


Sitting there in front of the Altar to Aion are some picnic refreshments, Sparte in a comfortable spot cross-legged with a book in his lap. Monique is offered a friendly chuckle. "Well then, I'll use you as the measure of if it is a bad story." Sparte glances around. "Though I hadn't expected so many people to wander in today, perhaps I should bring a blanket every time." Clearly the picnic blanket is the best advertisement for such a gathering. "I had settled on a story about dolphins, though I hope I won't be the only one telling stories." Sparte glances to the Shrine, then back around at the others who have shown up. Lady Lisbet is offered a friendly smile. "Ah, please, take a seat. Good to see you."

Jyri moves out of the way and choses a spot near Sparte, and like him, he choses to sit down. Leather creaks and he leaves the sword beside himself, or it'd be very uncomfortable. He squints that one eye at Sparte, makes a vague gesture. "I go out now and then." Wry tone of voice. "Thank you, Lady Monique. He's not talking about much else than books, now. I am half regretting it," he says, but there's a slight grin taking the edge off that. He gives a polite nod to the others, now quiet to listen to Sparte, placing a hand on his hound so the animal will lie down and not disturb someone.

Often being found here, if that is the correct term for something that is so seldom actually observed, for meditative purposes, Naka Laurent is comfortable with the stillness surrounding the single remaining altar in the Shrine of the Lost. The comfortable picnic spot selected today isn't always in evidence, but is a suitable magnet, and Naka approaches with a smile and a nod and seats himself with a soft swish of cloth robes.

Carissa walks into the Shrine, and looks around. She smiles at the large gathering, and moves to the picnic blanket. "Is there still room for another?" she asks politely, looking mostly at Sparte.

"Lady Lisebet," Monique greets pleasantly, making space on the blanket for all the new arrivals. "I'm glad to hear it, Guardsman Jyri. There are worse things than books in this world for young men. And I shall do my best, Commander Fatchforth, to be an adequate meter to guage by." She schools her face into perfect impassive neutrality.

Lisebet smiles at Sparte, pleased at the friendly blanket. She moves to settle on the blanket near enough to Monique. "I have not attended such a gathering before," she says. "I am looking forward to seeing what happens." She smiles at those she doesn't know, briefly saying, "I'm Lisebet Farshaw, and happy to meet everyone who I haven't yet."

Sparte gestures to a spot for Carissa with a welcoming nod. "Of course, of course. I'm Sparte Fatchforth for anyone I havn't met. Once everyone is settled I'll... Hrmm." Sparte reached into his pockets, patting through them until he finds... A rock. He holds it up for all to see. "This'll be our storyteller token, if anyone else wants to tell a story I will pass them the rock, and we can pass it around until everyone has had an opportunity to share here, that wishes to."

Etienne glides into the shrine, pausing briefly to watch people assemble, before moving onto the blanket and settling in, just another person here to hear stories. He gives greetings as he settles, crossing his legs, creating a pleasant little sleeping place for his furry red fox which almost immediately climbs into his lap.

Carissa settles in on the blanket. "Thank you," she says to Sparte, then smiles around warmly. "I'm Lady Carissa Malespero, for those who I'm not acquainted with. I'm happy to meet you all." And then she falls silent, her hands in her lap.

In this small lull as people are settling in but before the appropriate time to act as a mainly silent audience for a particular main speaker to tell his or her story, Naka takes a moment to introduce himself. With a small clearing of his throat, he says. "Naka Laurent. Good day to all."


**********************************************************************
Faith of the Pantheon
**********************************************************************


Jyri keeps a calming hand on his dog, with the other animals so near. "I am Jyri Tersk," he introduces himself simply, voice coarse and a bit brusque. He studies the others with that intent green eye though, as if curious about them all.

Sparte has joined the line.

Monique nods to Sparte's announcement, and cracks a little smile at the rock he pulls from his pocket. "Still hard at work for Jayus?" she surmises with a low laugh. Her eyes catch on Etienne and hold, warming, before sliding back to Sparte, with nods of greeting for all the new arrivals.

Monique has joined the line.

Jyri has joined the line.

Naka has joined the line.

"I'm starting us off with a tale about Dolphins. Out in the depths of the ocean there are many creatures, great and small, but none are quite like the Dolphins." Sparte smiles a bit as he reads. "The dolphins have long been the sigil of the Marin'alfar, and some say they call themselves noble blooded and have a house of their own... For those who can hear." A brief chuckle as he continues. "And like any good storied house of fishy providence, they have a nemesis. The dreaded and sinister eels."

Jyri is settling in here, relaxing - in fact, he looks with interested focus on Sparte. He cracks a grin, as the tale starts about animals - he appreciates that. Onida the dog even moves her ears forward, as if also listening to the story. Or perhaps he likes Sparte's familiar voice.

"The tricky eels have been known to hunt baby dolphins, and trap them in places at low tide. Once there were a group of Arvani who, seeing the distress of dolphins, went to their aid. Riding the dolphins like horses they rode into watery battle with the eels and saved an entire clan's worth of baby dolphins. To this day they say if you ever want to make friends with a dolphin, if you ever want to know what it is to ride the waves with one, look for where eels gather first and show them your valor. Be it with a spear, or a fisherman's hook." Sparte holds up the rock, offering it over ot the next speaker.

Turn in line: Sparte

Turn in line: Monique

Monique quirks her head at Sparte, reaching out for the rock from the Iron Guardsman. "Is that story true?" she asks, squinting her eyes at the man as if she could judge such a thing from just looking at him.

Sparte gives Monique a small wink and a grin. "If it was completely made up, I wouldn't have told it here."

Lisebet stays where she is, listening contently for the moment. "Dolphins are lovely and graceful to watch," she says softly.

Carissa smiles at Sparte. "I like that story," she says quietly, eyes bright.

Monique squints to Sparte for another moment, and then grins, nods her crimson head. "Fair point. All right," the Minx of the Marches settles in, "let me tell you the story of slave man from Cardia, the land of the immortal dragons, the skylords." No professional storyteller, she, but still she manages a good bit of theatrics. "The slave of Black Spire in Cardia, gifted with the True Voice. He enraptured all that heard him, including the immortal King of the Sky and all his lords. He would sing the most heart-rending songs, of mortality and hope, of the Truth of things. But the dragons are jealous creatures, and could not bear the idea that his gifts might one day be denied to them." Dramatic pause.

Gregori slips in to see what this is all about it's easy to tell hes a bit nervous. He scans the room for anyone he may know. He spots Lisebet, and catches the the end of the story and nods,It was a good tale, he moves toward Lisebet and when he gets to where she is he will smile at her and bow. "M...M..May I sit with you, M'Lady L...Lisebet?" He asks with a brighter smile than he could muster yesterday.

"Eel - tastes great," Jyri comments, and he then snags some snacks from the food stuffs and eats it with good appetite. His appreciation of the story is more shown in the nod at the commander, before he leans back on his elbows to listen to Monique, staring at the red-headed woman with total focus.

Carissa turns to listen to Monique, her eyes still bright. The dramatic pause has her catching her breath, waiting for more.

"And so the dragons would beg him, each and every day. 'Accept our gifts!' they would say. 'Live forever! Sing forever!'" Monique does a wonderful greedy dragon voice. It's very convincing. "And each time they offered, the slave refused. He served as the first dragonsinger for thirteen years and thirteen days and then passed from the world. 'Life', the slave said, 'was meant to be lived, and everything of value has an end.'" Her voice catches, and there's a moment where the Greenmarch falls silent of her own merit. "When he died, the dragons wept, knowing sorrow for the first time. Each tear was a tiny piece of a dragon's soul, forever set in stone, as a memory of love lost, and hope eternal." She falls silent then, offering the rock up to the next storyteller.

Carissa nods to the Lady Greenmarch. "That was wonderful," she says softly.

Turn in line: Jyri

Carissa says, "I can share it now too."

Lisebet smiles to Gregori, gesturing quietly for him to settle in on the picnic blanket with the rest of the group. She listens to Monique, pleased to hear a story told that she is familiar with. "That was well told, m'Lady," she says at the end. "And Lord Gregori, welcome. I think we might do introductions for those who do not know everyone once all the stories are done." Or something like that.

Naka nods along and murmurs appreciation for the storytelling almost inaudibly.

Jyri gets to his feet, and accepts the stone as it's his turn in the story telling. He moves up to face the others, and looks thoughtful, tossing the stone up and down. "Onida, come here," he says and his wolf-hound lazily saunters over. As he does, Jyri kneels next to his dog.

"In the Gray Forest, there lived once a red wolf," he begins. Though he's not a story teller or performer, his voice demands some attention as he raises it. He shows his teeth in a little wolf 'snarl'. "The red wolf had fought - and lost. Now he wandered hungry and came upon a dog on a road, leading to a village. The dog was fat and healthy. 'Hello, cousin,' the wolf said tiredly. 'Why is it you look so healthy and fat?' The dog laughed at his skinny cousin." At this, Jyri buffs his head at Onida's, and the dog licks his face in response.

Gregori nods his head and smiles to hear after having been enratptured by the tale. He claps when she finishes the story and sits besid Lisebet. "Thank you Lady Lisebet."

Sparte grins through Monique's story, nodding along. "Always nice to hear another take on that story, becoming a bit of a classic." And then Jyri starts, and this is a story Sparte doesn't know. He leans in a bit to listen more closely, full attention given.

Lisebet listens quietly, enjoying the stories as they are told. Her gaze goes from one story teller to the next. The wolf-hound gets a long look as he is summoned by Jyri as a sort of prop for the story. Bright eyed, she remains quiet as she listens.

Gregori leans closer hands in his lap listening intently. Its definitely not a story his heard before.

Carissa listens quietly. This story is new to her, too, and she leans forward, eyes intent.

Snickering a bit at his dog, who is part of this little 'show', Jyri continues with a gravelly voice that he makes a bit more 'growly' when he portrays the wolf. "The dog said: 'Silly red wolf. I will show you, I can help you. Come with me, we will go to the village. If you work with me, we can share the food from my master.' The red wolf thought about it, and was very hungry - so he joined the dog. 'I will come with you,' the wolf agreed. On the walk, the wolf noticed that the fur around the dog's neck was tufted and worn down. 'Why is your neck fur in such bad shape?' red wolf asked. 'It is nothing,' the dog responded, 'just the chafing of the collar the master puts around my neck each night. It chafes a little at first - but you get used to it.' The red wolf stopped walking, and looked at his cousin the dog. 'I understand,' said the Red Wolf - and he turned and walked the other way."

The story ends there, Jyri standing up and holding the stone out, his expression neutral.

"Well put," Naka mentions.

Turn in line: Naka

"Smart wolf," Monique observes with a quicksilver grin. "And a story well told. Thank you, Guardsman Jyri."

"Very nicely told," Lisebet says. "All of you. This is a wonderful story listening opportunity." She is certainly enjoying this, with all the drama and voices being used.

Carissa applauds quietly. "This is lovely. And that was a wonderful story, Guardsman," she murmurs to Jyri.

Jyri gives Monique a very uncharacteristic wink - you don't see that often from the one-eyed man. Like he and she might share something else around that story. But his expression remains as stoic as before as he moves over to sit down, the stone turned over to Naka. Onida saunters over and flops down near Sparte now. "Thanks," Jyri tells Monique. "Your story? I liked it. I will tell it to Raavas." He sits, looking surprised at Carissa, but gives her a careful half-smile, looking rather pleased all in all. "Thank you, my lady," he tells Carissa, managing to not sound too brusque any longer.

Gregori claps and smiles broadly hes clearly enjoying himself. "Nicely done a great story it was." He calls out. "The wolf showed great intelligence." Gregori says happily.

Naka waits a moment before reaching for the stone, then picks it up with a slight grin. "We've heard some good stories today, I think we can all agree. But not every story is large, or even well-told. If you do not have one of that sort, you need not allow it to stop you from the telling. You can always tell a story like mine instead." He smiles more widely at this and tells his story, remaining seated on the blanket. And it is true that, throughout, there is a generally lesser level of dramatic performance in play.

"Some years ago, there was a blight going through Laurent lands, affecting vegetation at first, but, seemingly, thereafter, our bees as well. A faithful old retainer seemed to recall a similar event from his extreme youth that was successfully weathered and, for a time, research of the local archives was incredibly in vogue. Well, being a youngster at the time, I was not able to be particularly helpful at first. Others scoured the archives and found a few sources on the subject. Those papers were pored over while my young eyes caught only glimpses. Every time I thought I might get a closer look, some older person would snatch them from me to do their own reading on the subject. Which makes sense, by the way. In a similar situation today, I would probably not leap to look at a lad of ten or twelve years to lead the research. But the papers took on an almost talismanic aspect in my mind."

"After a time, it was agreed by all that, while the records seemed to make mention of the same disease and even indicated that the same was overcome, no directions for the cure were included for use by our contemporary apothecaries. The papers were laid aside in order to combat the blight on other fronts. No longer guarded from my hands, I seized the papers and perused them for hours. Longer. I do not precisely recall, but days at the least. Time meant something different then. But I certainly looked them over longer than anyone with defined duties or a modicum of sense would have."

"And, eventually, the solution presented itself. Within the same lines of writing that been determined to contain no such thing. It was clear enough, once its secret was known. I showed the recipe to my father, who showed it to others, and the blight was brought back under control. My scholarly acumen was praised and my time skewed towards research from that time to now. It shaped my life, truly, so small a discovery. Information can make many points, when seen from different perspectives, and the one I choose to force this story to show today is that information is sometimes a gift. It is a gift that is not intended solely for yourself."

"When you get the chance, tell your story. Even if it is a plain one, and plainly told. Thank you."

Sparte glances around. "It doesn't look as though we have any more storytellers today. It was nice to have so many join me this time, I hope everyone had a good time. I'll work on finding a good story for the next time."

Carissa blinks at Naka, but applauds, nodding at him. "Well told," she murmurs. Then she smiles. "I'm glad this was announced. Next time I'll try to tell a story," she says. "I'm a bit too shy today."