A few looky loos hovered near the entrance of the shrine as the Dominus and Blessed spoke quietly, seated on a bench. The Templars amidst Orazio's entourage lingered near the entrance, giving their charge space to have a moment of privacy from their constant vigil. Granted, they still watched. Just from a distance for now.

Svana slides into the temple, feathers in her hair and all. Nothing to see here - just your average sort of savage wishing to expand her horizons. She moves to sit down somewhere, wrapping her arms around herself as she smiles non-chalantly toward the others in the room.

Orazio accepted the offer of Roran's arm and walked beside him until the two were seated. "Have you thought to reach to the Crafter's Guild? Brother Felix is temporarily leading them from my understanding and I am certain he would be obliged to assist. As for tasks to be had, yes actually. It is in part why I have come in hopes of a moment of your attention."

Lisebet slips into the shrine of Lagoma, pausing to look around. Since there's a bit of a crowd by the entry, she moves in further, finding a quiet spot to sit at first, to offer her prayers quietly.

Svana has joined the by the lily pond.


Oili saunters up to the Shrine of Lagoma and sends her animals off to find something to do. She makes her way up the stairs and into the shrine proper towards the Dominus and Blessed. Assuming none of the guards stop the imposing presence of the late age apothecary as she approaches, she'll bow deeply. "I don't believe I've had the pleasure to meet the Archlector of Lagoma or the Dominus himself. Lady Oili Acheron." Around her shoulder, a bandage is wrapped tightly.

"I have plans to reach out to Brother Felix, but to open it to the nobility as a whole. Crafters guild for a new altar, as it seems a new one was not created in my absence. But all in it's time." Once Orazio is sitting, Roran sits, lifting a hand to let Lisebet know that he see's her. The same for Svana and a warm smile that's as warm as the shrine itself thanks to the flame. "I will be with everyone momentarily." Oili's animals find a friend in Nominus, who take off to play with them. "Ask, and I shall do what I can Father Orazio." There's a noble approaching and Roran bows his head. "lady Archeron. Welcome! Please make yourself comfortable, perhaps I might suggest some meditation while regarding her flame?"

Thork, the bone wearing warrior from the north, 2 Bone Wardens arrive, following Arcadia.

Sir Floppington, the soulful hound, Arcadia, Tarik arrive, following Rowenova.

A whole trio of Northern people show up along with a Soulful Hound and whatever entourage might have followed along from the Bonspire regions.

Orazio leaned slightly forward, utilizing the support of his staff as opposite arm fell loosely across his robed lap. As for Oili's approach, oh yup. The guards stirred at their stations, but it only took a mild gesture of the Dominus' fingertips to stave off their inclination to intercede. "Blessed be, Lady Oili. It seems you are in need of Lagoma's light in a physical capacity. I trust the Mercies have seen to that wound?" He queried after the bandage, dark and humorless eyes falling briefly to it.

To Roran's reply Orazio shifted in his place to better face the Blessed of Our Lady. "I have recently queried Mother Bianca on the topic of an audit of our tithing processes. In the interim as we assess our status a few of the Faithful are hard at work organizing events to increase donations for both the discipleships and the Faith on the whole. I believe Blessed Astrid is leading the charge on that front. I was hoping you may find time to offer your expertise in the realm of such events and community building? Or if you would feel more comfortable taking point on a project of your own of a similar kind?"

Svana smiles over at Rowenova, happy to see a familiar face - perhaps they've only met once, but it's good see someone else - and there's Arcadia too. Now Svana looks wholly relieved, almost. These aren't the kind of meetings she normally attends although she was quite curious. She's sitting by the lily pond, listening to the various going-ons with interest.

"I could see to both, Father. It would be my pleasure." Roran assures him. "I'll reach out to Mother Bianca and Blessed Astrid. Iv'e a few silver I can see put to good use as well." So it is asked, so it is done. There's a critical eye to the Archeron noble. "Mother Sophie or any of our esteemed Mercies would certainly be happy to assist you." Roran peers about to see who is in need and want of the Arhclector. "Duchess Lisbet! Where are the children? I was so hoping to see your children!"

After the Northern crew has shown up, Scout Rowenova speaks up and points out each individual for the ultimate benefit of her following comopanions, "Merchant Svana, Duchess Lisebet, Lady Oili, Archlector Roran, and Dominus Orazio!" It is half greeting and half indication until she ultimately speaks to the whole group, "Good to see you all again!" A couple bottles are being passed between herself, Marquessa Arcadia, and Goodman Tarik. Of course, Sir Floppington happily wags right up to the blessed archlector who he has not seen in some time.

Lisebet blinks at Roran's greeting, and she laughs. "I will be sure to bring them next time. They are a bit of a handful, all over everything at this age," she says warmly, as she rises to move closer over. "I am most impressed you remember that I have them, and that there's more than one." Though there did seem somehow to be quite a rash of twins. Perhaps it's something in the Arxian water. She offers a polite curtsey to Orazio, and waves a hand to Rowenova. "Scout Nova, it's been quite a bit of time since we last met. I am happy to see you."

Oili smiles at them both, "It's wonderful to meet you both." She turns to Roran, "I shall meditate for a time. Thank you for your guidance." She turns to Orazio, "It's healing. It will be fine, I'm sure, given a little bit of rest. It was gained in the line of duty, so I rather consider it a badge of honor." Rowenova is calling for her next and Oili bows to Orazio as she heads over to Rowenova, "Nova, how are you fairing after our little excursion into the hills? You seem to be in tip-top shape." She bows in the vague direction of Lisebet and Svana, "A pleasure to make the acquaintance of you as well."

Thork, the bone wearing warrior from the north, 2 Bone Wardens leave, following Arcadia.

Svana nods her head agreeably toward Oili, smiling at her. "A pleasure, Lady Oili. I'm always eager to meet more Northerners - you did say Acheron, yes?" she asks, tilting her head as she glances toward Orazio and Roran with curiosity.

Orazio rose in a slow pull of limbs with the assistance of his staff, a small nod given to Roran's reply. "Excellent. If need be, alert Mother Bianca and Blessed Astrid I have asked this of you, though I doubt they will shy from the assistance. If Mother Mercy has the time to assist as well we will have quite the grouping." To Oili's reply on the status of her wound he simply nodded and did not argue. The lady knew her health far better than he, after all. Another small bow of his head was had for Lisebet as she caught his eye, though Rowenova drew his attention further. "Scout Rowenova, it is good to see you at another gathering of the Faith." A slow turn of his figure, silks and aeterna whispering against the leather components of his garbs and he was once again facing Roran. "Let me not keep you further, Blessed. Until next we speak, walk in the Light of the Gods & and may Our Lady's Flame be your guide."

Tarik follows behind Rowenova and Arcadia. He dips his head to the people of the temple as he greets them. Tarik slowly raises his left finger to side of his cheek, "Oh, I have met Dominus Orazio before. It was awhile ago. You talked to me about Prism and other matters after I saw you having an almost picnic type meal at the Grotto." Tarik smiles softly, "I believe everyone else is completely new to me. I really need to stop hanging out in the taverns and go out to meet people.

'At this age, they are wonderful. Every day is different, they know no fear. Children are the embodiment of Lagoma. Every day is change for them is something new. They don't know the meaning of entropy and they engender the same ambracing of change in those around them dear Duchess." Orazio's rising and Roran does with him, only offering assistance if the man asks for it. "May she be yours as well. Blessed be you this day." Hands clasping either shoulder of the Dominus so that Roran can offer a quietly murmured prayer and then turns the man loose so that he can move to greet others. A clap of his hands and a booming voice. "I am the blessed Roran of Lagoma, Archlector of the Blessed Lady of Change. How can I help you today."

Oili nods at Svana. "Yes, Oili Acheron, from Aviaron's Peak. Though you're likely far more familiar with my cousins Her Majesty Rhea Acheron or Lady Kenna Acheron. I tend to pass unnoticed far more often in comparison." She turns to bow at Orazio as he gathers to leave, "May you walk true Dominus. Have a lovely day."

Nova grins big to Svana as well as Lisebet as she lifts her bottle toward them, "Aye, quite some time it has been since I have seen either of you! Congratulations, Duchess Lisebet, on the wee ones." Her expression softens before smiling brightly at Oili to whom she passes off the whiskey bottle if she would like. "I am doing well, thank you. And thank you for having tended to me out there." It certainly seems that her neck wound has been freshened up with new bandages since then, so it is being taken care the right way, not just left to random chance. She soon follows Tarik's regard to Dominus Orazio to whom she momentarily bows before popping up to full height once more. "Always looking to learn more, I am." She quiets down for the Archlector's prayer before piping up. "Sir Flop and I want to 'get over' my ex husband!" Well, what a change because it used to be that Roran was helping Nova change her ways to 'learn to count to 10 and not get mad' and to 'learn to let people love her' and now she is on the tail end of the whole deal.

'Put all the things of his you still have, in a box, and burn it." Roran cheerfully states, tongue in cheek.

As Roran took the reigns and called to those gathered the Holy of Holies began his way with assured step toward the exit and his guardsman. The familiarity of Tarik garnered a small nod of acknowledgement from the Dominus, but as Orazio was on his way out that was the extent of any further engagement beyond a final reply to both Nova and Oili. "That is good to hear, Scout Rowenova. And may we all walk true, my lady." And off he went!

Lisebet offers a brief smile to Roran, as she listens. "That is entirely so," she agrees.

Nova cannot help but suddenly burst laughs. "I think I might!"

And just like that, with the mention of burning things, the Pantheon got a whole lot cooler to Svana. She bows her head in respect to Duchess Lisebet and then smiles in Tarik's direction, not recognizing his face from around. She takes in a long breath as she listens to what Rowenova has to say, her eyes widening. She worries over her bottom lip, but burning things? Alright. She smiles at Oili softly and quietly says, "I do not know my way around the Acherons very well at all, but I hope to change that, my Lady."

Lisebet offers a brief smile to Roran, as she listens. "That is entirely so," she agrees. "They are a bundle of energy and joy, and I love them with all my heart." She smiles, and then adds, "But there are times when it is good to have a bit of time in peaceful contemplation of Lagoma's flame, rather than the hectic joy that is caused by the children." She smiles as she looks at the others, who are acknowledging her presence. "It's a pleasure to meet everyone," she says quite sincerely. Orazio on his way gets another polite and graceful curtsey.

Orazio has left the Cycle of a Tree Bench.

Brahm, a large iridescent plumed raven arrives, delivering a message to Rowenova before departing.

Brahm, a large iridescent plumed raven arrives, delivering a message to Rowenova before departing.

Oili nods at Roran. "That's a good point. Burn it all down and start over." She chuckles a bit and finds a bench to take a seat on before turning to Svana, "No reason we can't change that. You know one more Acheron today than you did yesterday. Progress. Change, one might say."

Brahm, a large iridescent plumed raven, Voss, an icy-eyed Northlands Malsatian arrive, following Morrighan.

Calming down from her Northern laughs about Roran's advice, Nova awws softly after Lisabet's words. They certainly affect the wolf scout whose starry eyes suddenly clear after a couple blinks! A quick scan, and then she pulls out a small paper into which she quickly scrawls a short note, doing so with one quill from her belt vials. After, it is sent off and a couple replies come by what might be a familiar corvid to some. She might be trying summoning Dame Morrighan.

Relic arrives, following Harlan.

Lisebet smiles briefly, and she says, "Burning things can be effective, and certainly it qualifies as a change." She is seated near the archlector, and there's a few folks around, the discussion seeming to be free ranging at the moment.

Roran chuckels but shakes his head. "In truth, you could do that Rowenova, but the real answer is to take time. Understand that he made a mark enough on your heart that he was a husband. It will take just as much time to get over him. But you will. Just keep focusing on other parts of your life and with time, you'll think less about him till one day you realize, you haven't thought about him in some time and that, that is when you will be over him. Now." Roran looks around. 'Next question."

Svana slowly speaks up to Roran, looking at him curiously, but also /extremely/ intensely. The kind of gaze that goes right through someone. She doesn't seem at all embarrassed when she opens her mouth and lets a flood of words come out. "Right then. At the foreign goods meeting the other day there was this entire speech about how if we sell or craft from Cardian goods, we have spots on our souls," Svana says. "Do you think I have a spot on my soul? Do you think that if people don't meet certain requirements, or if they do bad things regardless of whether or not it's a good reason, they get spotty souls?"

Harlan comes in from outside, taking his time, and lights up when he sees Lisebet. Sending her a warm smile, he starts heading towards her, hands over his shoulders. This would be because he's holding onto two squirmy, wriggly not-quite-infants, and followed by at least three servants / nannies, looking concerned, but not actively upset or frightened.

Tarik peers over at Rowenova, "Have you tried a long camping trip to get over your ex husband?" Tarik solemly nods his head, "No offense to the Archlector. I always go on long camping trips when I want to give over things. It is never been someone I was involved with romantically, but camping did allow me to clear my head." Tarik listens to Svana's question and briefly raises his eyes for a moment. Tarik leans his head to speak quitely to Rowenova.

Tarik mutters, "Do ... come here a lot for advice?"

After the Archlector's advice, Rowenova deeply bows in Roran's direction before standing up to her full height and silently mouthing a voiceless thanks his way, too. She soon regards Svana with full attention and head tilts before leaning closer to quietly answer Tarik in hushed tones after his curious questions.

That corvid returns after some time, swooping into the shrine proper, wings aflutter as Brahm circles around the wolfy scout, and descends to perch atop Rowenova's head. He gives a throaty, grumbled croak in greeting, muttering away as he then proceeds to preen his feathers. Vain creature that he is. It isn't long after that the Sword of Farhaven follows, her boot heels tapping smartly over the floor, joined with the soft, clinking rattle from the gold medallions hanging from the sash about her waist. She exhales a quiet yawn, one hand lifting to cover her mouth, the other settles comfortably upon the pommel of Demonslayer, secured in its sheath. Her drowsy eyes briefly flit across the faces of those gathered within, settling on Brahm..and the person he's perched upon. Morrighan continues on, weaving through the crowd to loiter beside Nova.

"I think that I should have been at this meeting." Roran sits down at the bench near Lisebet, dipping into a pocket for that salt and peppry long haired kitten. "It is certainly a hard question. One that no doubt the Salon would like to sit and debate. Do I think that if you craft with Cardian good, or sell them, that your soul is spotted." His hand strokes along the back of the kitten. "What is the faith's stance, on Cardian goods?" He asks her. Then abruptly stands, passing the kitten to Lisebet, striding forward with hands outstretched. "Is this them Duchess? They must be for this is the Duke Ashford." He doesn't grab the children, doesn't get in their face. Just approaches with an overjoyed look on his face. "You must errorize your nannies fiercely!"

Lisebet doesn't at first catch sight of her husband or the sacks of potatoes he's carrying. Though she's suddenly got a kitten in her lap, and a startled look on her face. The petite duchess is bigger than the kitten. Mostly. "Oh, my," she starts, but then she sees who Roran is speaking of, and her smile lights up her face. "Oh, yes indeed, that is my Emilie and Brennan. Well, Ours, I guess."

It's like Svana has been asked a trick question. She squirms in her seat and looks at the kitten, taking in deep breaths. There are children too - but the kitten is the main source of her attention since she knows nothing about the Faith. "I would have to do some research on that, um..." She struggles with the proper title for Roran. "Sir." She pauses. "But the main issue is, how do we avoid getting spotted souls?"

The twins are squealing and making general baby sounds -- neither really old enough to talk other than random sounds -- although they're probably not far off, and toddling is definitely on the table. He grins over towards his wife and says, "It is, yes...." He has his hands hooked in their clothing to pick them up off his shoulders and gently lift them up and around, causing more wiggling and squealing and quite a few baby-faces from the pair. He moves to hand one of them at random to his wife, or starts to anyway before he sees the kitten and pauses. He chuckles towards the Archlector and says, "Good evening, Archlector. Indeed, this is the Lady Emilie, and Lord Brennan of House Ashford." He shifts them so that he's cradling each in an arm, although he takes his time and adjusts his grip to make sure they aren't going to wriggle out. The nannies remain hypervigilant -- likely due to fear of Cedric than the Duke.

With that preening corvid between the wolf ears atop her pelt-clad noggin, Rowenova stands up rather straight to be sure she can completely support the bird freight up there! She tries hard to hopefully suppress whatever laughs might have momentarily tickled her. She somehow succeeds, only doing so due to Willpower 5, most assuredly. Though, there were definite twitches and short breathes during such stifling. With one arm, she reaches out and briefly snugs Dame Morrighan along one side. Seeing Lisebet and Harlan and the little ones, Nova smiles softly as she curiously watches them. Of course, Sir Floppington wags closer to the small humanoids and the little kitty, too. He is quite curious, but not nosing anyone just yet.

Oili leans forward on her bench at the question being asked. Where before she was engaging with the laughter in the room, she's suddenly very interested in where this line of questioning will go. It's almost rude the way she bores holes into Svana and Roran, waiting for the answer to come from the Archlechtor of Change. If Svana had thrown the bait into the water, Oili was the shark poised to rush it at the first sign of movement. Then almost a visible snap as Oili relaxes with the direction the question goes, the bench protesting her. "Currently, there's no specific stance. In 824 AR Dominus Telmar had banned the faith from supporting or interacting with the heathens," and she stresses this word, "but that was repelled in 831 AR by Dominus Stonewater." She turns her attention back to Roran, "Does the deity of change have no stance on soul damage?"

'But what is the current stance?" Roran counters, now making gimme gimme hands to the twins, or at least for one of them.

Lisebet eyes the kitten she's been given, not sure if she should let it go - or not. Wait, is Svana looking for a kitten? Lisebet eyes the other woman and holds the kitten out to her, hopefully. She then looks at Roran and Harlan, and she smiles, holding her hands out for one of the babies as well, now that she is no longer bekittened. At least for the moment.

Svana takes the kitten gratefully from the Duchess and gently pets the little thing, hoping to get an answer about souls one way or the other. She looks from Oili to Roran expectantly and sits the kitten in her lap, nearly quite literally on the edge of her seat. When did savages get so uptight about sinning and souls and spots anyway?

Sir Floppington wags up to Svana and nose touches with the little kitty unless it is the hissy kind. He happily wags then turns to gaze soulfully at the small humans. Meanwhile, his wagging tail swish swishes against Svana's legs.

There's mild side-eye given to Brahm as Morrighan stands at Rowenova's side, her gaze narrowing at the iridescent-plumed corvid. "Geeeeeet," comes a low, soft hiss, and she reaches about to give the bird a scolding flick to his rear. The indignation is clear, and a hiss is returned in kind, but the raven grumbles, much akin to bitching, and makes his way over to hop upon the dame's shoulder instead. Her head ticks to the side, listening to the passing conversation, inquiries, and such, which prompts a faint tug downward at the corners of her mouth. She returns her focus to Rowenova for a beat, as though listening, and offers a brief nod of her head.

Harlan chuckles and moves to offer one child to his wife, the other to the Archlector and moves to sit down next to Lisebet, leaning over to kiss her cheek, "So what are we talking about tonight?" He smiles and relaxes.

Now that Brahm has hopped away from her noggin to the shoulder of Morrighan, Rowenova lets out a relieved sigh, one which is a bit exaggerated, as if the weight of the world had just been lifted from the top of her wolf pelt there. Is she expressing that Brahm might be fat? Could be... She oh yeahs about something as she quietly tries to introduce people who have already met one another. Though, she does keep one ear on the ongoing conversation concerning souls, which draws her cobalt gaze for sure.

Baby cuddles! okay, toddler cuddles, they're close enough. Lisebet tilts her cheek, and then turns to whisper briefly to Harlan, while listening to the rest of the conversation.

"The current stance of the Faith is that Cardian goods are not under embargo, nor are they forbidden to work with. Time brings change. New Dominus' bring change. We embrace change for the better or the worse." Ohh he has a kid in his arms. It's plain to see that the Archlector is a lover of people. And felines. Said salt and pepper cat seems content to be shuffled around from lap to lap. He moves toward the eternal flame so he can stoops and pick up a little bee sculpture there and lets it buzz around the child. "I do not think that working with it will stain your soul. No more so than the faith currently on bans the importation of Eurusi goods, not the working with it or selling of stocks already within our lands." Roran walks around with the child, amusing her. "I think, dear woman, the answer to what you ask is this. You do your best. You live your life as best you can. you do the best you can. And if you falter, you pick yourself up, you step back into the light, and you do the best that you can, once again." He looks to Svana. "We all make mistakes. But rarely are mistakes made that one cannot be redeemed if they are sincere in such."

Svana seems relieved more at the second part than the first. She's a business woman, pure and simple, but the spotting of souls business that they got into during the foreign goods talk was out of her league. She smiles at Roran and nods her head. "Thank you, Arch...lector." She thought she heard someone call him that anyway. Svana gently pets the kitten and passes him or her in the direction of someone who needs them, petting Sir Floppington - and suddenly feeling much lighter.

Oili eyes Roran as the same question is posed again. Morrighan arrives and Oili takes a moment to wave at her. When Roran comes back with his answer to the question, Oili listens attentively and then nods quietly. She peers between Roran and Svana for a moment before adding, "It sounds like your meeting on trade skipped a few tracks if there were threats of dark spots on your soul." She turns her attention to Roran, "I'm always interested in hearing more about the faith. Do you mind if I ask you your thoughts on soul healing?"

Sir Floppington happily accepts those wonderful pets from Svana and turns back her way, gently chinning her lap and glancing up to hopefully make eye contact for a brief time with his expressive eyes.

With her blue eyes, Nova happily tracks Roran and the wee one. She softly smiles about the bee shenanigan. Though, she soon averts a serious gaze toward Oili as if she just asked something relative to her own personal interests. "I would like to know about that, too." she quietly mentions.

"You may ask. I may not have the answer right away. But you can ask." Roran relays to Oili as he lavishes attention on one of the twins.

Tarik offers a polite smile to Rowenova. "Your memory is perfect as you are. I really do not believe the topic of have we ever met has ever come up before." Tarik taps his right foot as he recalls in his own thoughts if he ever spoke about meeting Morrighan before. Tarik raises his right arms in a shrug, "It was a very early Redrain Dinner. I forgot which Redrain family member was about to get married, or had just married." Tarik snaps his fingers, "I do recall that Princess Valencia had went back to the Lyceum just before that dinner." Tarik shrugs his shoulders and then turns his attention to Morrighan, "So Dame Morrighan have you been doing? I occassionaly hear tales of your exploits from time to time through the years."

At the idea of healing souls, Lisebet looks intrigued. She's got little Brennan in her lap, while the archlector has Emilie, so she bounces the boy child gently, as she listens.

Oili smiles at Roran. "That sounds fine. I'm not asking a specific question. Just your general thoughts on the idea of a person making a soul clean. Removing those dark spots, to borrow a phrase from earlier." She moves around a bit on the bench before settling down.

Morrighan casts a brief look to Roran for a beat or two before she exhales a soft grunt, and sets to digging out her flask from the confines of her satchel. It's swiftly produced, the cap twisted off, and the dame takes a quick pull from it. There's a soft intake of breath, a light swipe of her thumb to remove the remnants of what is most likely whiskey from her bottom lip. "Been keepin' busy," the redhead answers Tarik, quietly, as not to disturb the group at large. "Tales o' my exploits, huh? Dare I ask?"

Svana is still decently invested in the conversation, and smiles over at Morrigan, dipping her head once again in respect. She listens to Oili's questions and makes a note to pick her brain (so to speak) later, her face taking on a rather pensive expression.

Harlan nods towards Archlector, "While I lack your skill in this, I do agree. Goods, in general, aren't a problem, much as a sword itself is not an issue -- it's how it is used." He grins, "Of course, there are -some- things that I also know that one should not touch." He was disctracted, it seems.

"It sounds like it might take a great deal of soap and elbow grease, perhaps a good stiff brush." Rorn finally says after a few minutes in contemplation. "To get a soul clean again." There's a glance to Oili as he puts the bee back and gets the book about the cat that's there for the baby to chew on.

Glancing around briefly, Morrighan inhales deep, and takes another drink. "I firmly believe tha' it is indeed quite possible," the dame speaks up, though with notable hesitation. "Fire, in general, can do many things. Create, destroy, soothe, comfort," she remarks, gesturing lightly with a hand. "Dominus Tin once wrote tha' Beseechers o' th'Faith can call upon Lagoma's flame for many reasons, including healin'. I would wager tha' one o' Her Mercies, or perhaps even a Godsworn, who had Her favor, touch, or blessin', could heal a soul, if they could see th'injury. Possibly even cleanse or purify it, if it was tainted. Dunnae think it would be any easy thing, mind, but possible."

With a grateful smile, Nova silently thanks Tarik for the kind reassurance before her blue-eyed gaze slides back to Morrighan to whom she raptly listens.

Lisebet considers the discussion, and she adds, "There is another thought too - that death may heal things we are not aware of, though it is for us a seemingly more final answer," she says softly. "But I think there are worse things than being sent back to The Wheel."

Svana looks toward Morrighan and considers her viewpoint for a long moment, nodding at her. That seems like a fair shake - at least to Svana. She makes sure that kitten, dogs, and everything else is back to where they started or in a safe place before she stands and bows to the room collectively. "Thank you all for your answers. You've given me quite a lot to think about. Thank you, Archlector."

"Anything worth doing is almost never easy." Roran adds to Morrighan's words, even as he's bringing over that young twin back to her father. "I think you lost something."

Oili moves up a bench or two to sit behind Nova's row as the conversation starts getting good. She turns to Morrighan, "I don't think we've ever actually been introduced even if we've been in the same room before. Oili Acheron." She offers the same introduction to Tarik as well and then turns to Nova, "Sorry about the bar today, but tell me more about this tab? Is that an open tab?" Waiting for an answer, she offers to Svana, "Probably a sight more constructive than a discussion on trade that turned to religious worthiness. I imagine that wasn't a discussion any longer." She smiles at Roran, "That's true. It's never easy."

Svana has left the by the lily pond.

Sir Floppington adoringly watches Svana's rise. He happily wags, quite pleased with all the attention given. He is certainly safe, at least as much as can be right now. He soon approaches the Farshaw family with a curious look in his soulful eyes.

Morrighan lightly tips her head in Roran's direction, indicating her agreement with his response, though she says nothing further for the time being. She leans to one side, occasionally sipping on her flask and absentmindedly reaches over to give Rowenova's wolfy-clad noggin a brief ruffling. Her sea-blue gaze flits to Oili, and gives a slight inclination of her head in greeting. "Dame Morrighan Marin, Sword o' Farhaven. Dunnae think we have met, no. Nice t'meet you."

Harlan mms, "There are always worse things. However, that doesn't mean we shouldn't enjoy what we do have, especially when we know that things can be taken away quite easily." He shrugs and smiles, staying close to the Duchess.

After Morrighan speaks about Lagonma's flame. Tarik remains quite for a moment, before elaborating on some of the exploits "Just the normal tavern talk. Dame Morrighan saved such and such, set fire to something, she might be one of the most heroic and loyalest Redrain of this age." Tarik raises his right eyebrow slightly as he taps his right foot again, "I think a few drunk Redrain guards told some story about you taking all of their silver when tried to arm wrestle you. They were drunk so they couldn't have just been making up stories.

Tarik turns his attention to Oili after she introduces himself, "I am Morien, Tarik Morien." Tarik snaps his finger again, "Lady Oili, I was going to see you a message to see if you wanted me to do your Explorer's test. I did Lady Rosalind's test for her.

"Oi, I set fire tae nothin'.." she pauses there, eyes narrowing to a thin squint. "Except my blade, but tha' was tae kill somethin', if'n anythin' was burned down, it was'nae me," Morrighan is quick to return. "Might have been Brogan though, he an' his nephew might have accidentally burned down a tavern once." That said, she sniffs lightly at the air, though glances about shiftily at the mention of silver and arm wrestling. "I dunnae remember this, but I'll nae deny th'possibility."

While Sir Flop is making friends with little kitties and little people, Nova looks back to Lady Oili with a welcoming smile. Her wolf pelt is pulled down a little ways due to Morrighan's ruffling. She lets out a little laugh, and she tries pushing that wolf pelt back up where it belongs. "That was then. This is now: so, I ended up closing said tab when I left, but we got drinks right here if you want em!" She reaches back to her Messenger Bag and pulls out another bottle. Bring the Northerners to a Faith convention, and they all start drinking! Nova pulls the cork with her teeth, even. How does she even do that?! She curiously listens to Tarik as she lets the cork drop from her mouth into her open hand beforedoing a Lycene-like sip -- out of weird habit -- off the whiskey bottle before offering said bottle back to Oili.

Roran laughs at the mention of a flaming blade. 'Those do come in handy in the woods." And then he's before Harlan, offering back the child.

Lisebet has the little boy, and she smiles at Roran. "Did you want to trade?" she offers lightly. "For a bit?" Though she does eye Harlan and the nannies, perfectly willing to give both the twins back to their father, since he brought them out. "Though you will have to return them, before we leave, I think." A grin at Harlan and then Roran. The twins do seem to take it with equanimity when they are picked up and snuggled like that. At least they do at this point. "I should think flaming blades would come in handy in many places," she says easily.

Oili laughs at Nova and takes the offered bottle. "You brought me a bottle and I can't ask for me." She takes a long sip and then passes it on down the line to Morrighan. "Ah, Morrighan. Your reputation as the Sword of Farhaven procedes yourself. What an honor!" She nods at Tarik, "That would be wonderful Tarik. To be honest, I was beginning to think that was never going to happen. We should get together and do that soon."

Harlan chuckles, "Just don't let either of them down. They like to try to walk, and they like to put things in their mouths." A pause, "Including their feet, or each other's."

"Oh I think that I will take the other the next time you bring them." Roran assuses Lisebet, no move to take the other half of that pair, leaving the child to Harlan or a nanny and looking to see where the salt nad pepper kitten ended up. "Any other questions?

It looks like at this point that Sir Flop has lain down and the little kittne has curled up against his chest between his paws. Flop looks up at Roran and whaps his tail but does not move, not to jostle the sleepy kitty.

Nova gets her wolf pet set straight and then she smiles up to Oili before she asks Roran, "Since those things that I might burn were meaningful in my life, do you think they would be good for the Cleansing Rite?"

"I think, that you have to consider what they brought you. For the rite, I am told, is what you wish to put out into the world, into the dream. Roran offers. "So think about what they mean and wehther they would be appropriate."

With full focus, Nova up nods. "Thank you, Archlector. You have always been a blessed help."

Lisebet smiles, and passes the little boy back to Harlan, taking her daughter from Roran. That at least frees the archlector up to go kitty hunting. She then gets to cuddle the other twin.

Tarik nods to Oili, "A lot of Explorers are probably tending to exciting research, helping to lead their House, or preparing for some exciting expedition. Tarik adds, "I am pretty much mundane, so I have a lot of time of my hands to perform the entrance exams. I will send you a messenger to see if we can nail down a date." Tarik listens quitely to Row's questions and Rodan's answer to her. Tarik leans to speak to Rowenova.

"I am sorry dear friend. He is not destined for you." Roran consoles the dog even as he's careful in picking up the kitten. He is meant for someone else." Everyone seems to me descending into their own bits of conversation and Roran smiles, starting to slip off.

Sir Floppington gives Roran a look of understanding. Did he just bob a little nod to him? Was anyone looking besides the Archlector when that happened.

Oili watches Nova swing her head up and she stares for a second before letting it go. The alcohol has worked its way back and she takes another long sip. "You know what would make you feel even better, Nova? You should just go punch him. Cleanse him. Finish him." Today we learn that the medic can't hold her alcohol. "On the other hand, you could just burn his pants. Leave the shirts. Just the pants. Nothing is more infuriating than getting half dressed only to find you're missing one thing." Oh, so this is what she's like drunk. "And Tarik, you don't have to make excuses for other people. They were too lazy to say anything. You were the first one who decided to proctor the test, so you get me to yourself for several hours. Alone. In the woods."

'No punching Draven Rowenova." Roran calls out.

Lisebet shakes her head as she listens. There's a moment of consternation, and then she passes her daughter to one of the nannies. No wonder Roran wanted to give her back! Ahem. Thankfully leetle ones are good at such things and it's not held against them. "I brought something to burn," she murmurs after a moment. "I suppose I should do that." Thankfully it's just a small item, a piece of paper that she's written something on. She leans against Harlan briefly, and then moves to go properly pray to Lagoma for a bit, examining the fire. "I hear you can be somewhat obstreperous," she murmurs to Lagoma's Flame, as if she expects it understands. "Please do be gentle, hmm?"

Harlan smiles as he spends his time with his wife, and grins as Lisebet hands their daughter back to the nannies, who are making sure the babies are taken care of. He squeezes LIsebet, and lets her up, chuckling, 'I, did not plan this, as such, so I do not have anything at this time."

Those encouraging words as well as suggestive nuance from Lady Oili bring out a wry smirk from the Wolf Scout. Roran's words bring out a Northern laugh, though. "I have thought about it many times, but I gave my word to him that I would never beat him, and I never did and never will, even if it crossed my mind more times than I would like to admit you know." She leans back to ultimately inform Oili, "No idea if he is even alive. Not seen him in nearly a couple years now." Wow, that is some screwed up long term grieving. Though, she quiets down and momentarily drinks from the migrating bottle before passing on said bottle ... back to Oili. She curiously watches Lisebet now, too.