It is a fine summer afternoon with fluffy clouds crossing the sky at a steady pace. Meanwhile the Arvum Philosophical Society for the Empowerment and Enlightenment of Curious Minds has gathered within its home dubbed The Empirical for an informal meeting of minds and, if they're so lucky, some measure of experience too.

Among the afternoon crowd is the so-called Idle Mind of the Salon, Duke Hadrian Mazetti. He has claimed an elegant-but-plush chair among a scattering of plush-but-elegant chairs, with one of the Duke's long legs inelegantly thrown over one arm of the chair in what may very well be a purposefully gauche display. He's only recently finished stripping an apple of its bounty, which he casually hands aside to an awaiting assistant in the form of Master Luigi. Nods are exchanged between the pair, after which Duke Hadrian takes a long moment to survey the innards of the Empirical.

There's a sideward glance which Hadrian casts toward Cambria, to which he comments, "At least for once I know I'll have little issue keeping up with the crowd of speakers," he concludes with an amused chuckle. Soon he pushes himself up to standing as is only proper for addressing a crowd (of empty furniture) and his hands move to clasp before himself, clearing awaiting the arrival of potential participants.

The Duchess Mazetti is seated, perhaps unsurprisingly, not far from her consort. Unlike him, however, she remains poised and proper. At his words, she nods slowly, looking around the room before saying, "Still, you can never be too sure." Her expression never loses its composure, but her next statement is more serious. "A smaller turnout is perhaps to be expected, given the times."

Sparse audience, certainly, though not -completely- barren. The young Morgan meanders into the Empirical (a place she's acquainted with, to be sure, as one of the lesser members of the Salon, though she's usually hidden away in the Stacks), and finds a seat, curious golden brown eyes drifting over the rest gathered, alighting upon the Duchess and Duke with steadfast curiosity. "Truly, given the topic, I would think -more- would be here. Everyone could use some armor and arms. Who knows what might happen to the world next?"

"The times, yes," Hadrian offers a steady series of nods along, clearly in agreement with Cambria's own observation. He adds to it with a little roll of a single shoulder too, "The other fact of the matter is that I haven't personally hosted a discussion in some time. Never mind the subject itself; hardly my most divisive, but neither is it my most thrilling". Another sound of amusement bubbles up from the throat of the Duke following his observation.

Then another voice joins the fray and Hadrian shifts about to regard the latest arrival in the form of Briseis and a broad devil's grin splashes itself wickedly across his features, pulling his skin taut for a moment before it again relaxes and another series of agreeing nods are presented from Duke to Inquisitor, "I couldn't agree more, truthfully," he begins before the Duke offers a welcoming dip of his chin toward the newest arrival and upon her claiming a seat, he offers a welcoming gesture to follow that dip of his head. Soon enough Hadrian retreats to reclaim his own seat and thus the discussion likely begins in earnest, "That's why preparation is frequently an important fact of life. Being caught unprepared is rarely a treat. So when I began pondering a dear friend's attire, I wondered what other - more knowledgable - minds may think on the subject."

"Then we three stand on agreement," Cambria says. "Both that the subject matter is one we expected a bigger crowd for, and that preparation is important." She, too, offers Briseis a smile. More subdued than Hadrian's, and seemingly lacking in any kind of devilishness. "Therefore, I suggest we dive straight in. I am of the opinion that, no matter what manner of armor you wish to wear, or what weapon you seek to wield, you must first make yourself familiar with them. It will avail you no use to wear heavy armor if you cannot walk in it, for example. Just as it would be of no benefit to carry a broadsword if you're more comfortable with a dagger."

A polite bow of greeting is offered as Briseis makes herself comfortable, brushing a stray tendril of hair back behind her ear, neat and smooth and careful. There is an easy affability about her countenance, a poise to her posture which speaks to her Oathlander heritage, yet her lips are quick to smile, and her gaze nearly severe as she listens and engages in the discussion in equal turns.

"Unfortunately, you haven't drawn the most knowledgeable on the subject - it would be a delight to hear what some esteemed general might make of matters, yet those individuals rarely sit and share their experience so openly." A faint smile is offered, before she continues, "Some wear armor all day long, and others don such only when they absolutely must." Considering the Inquisitor is presently wearing a set of leather, she may fall into the former, or perhaps she simply didn't bother to wear something more socially engaging.

A firm nod is directed at Cambria, and she adds, "Practice should be had with each, thoroughly, before knowingly engaging in treacherous activity, and I believe one should consider their predisposition when picking what is best to learn. For example - my stature and physique do not lend themselves to much strength, so I favor a bow and light armor. While effort can improve anything, should one have the devotion and dedication, I think it important to tailor choices practically."

"You're no fun sometimes, you know that, right?" Hadrian retorts at Cambria following her commentary on making use of the best tool that the user is comfortable with. He elaborates his meaning after a moment, "I'm looking for advocates. I want to hear the person who advocates for their preferred weapon in the form of the halberd, who thinks that it's perfectly normal to carry one to every ball, garden party, and social event. Let's here from the grizzled veteran who swears by sleeping in his ancient suit of rubicund that has been passed down through the ages, from one died-of-old-age user to the next, because it provided such an immense form of defense".

There's probably some measure of playful facetiousness to his response, judging by the little smile that seems to lurk upon his sharp features without fail. Though his expression sobers a touch while his leg shifts, once again draping itself across the plush arm of his chair while he adopts a position of comfort to more seriously address the points of view presented by both Inquisitor and Duchess equally, "While you may proclaim your lack of knowledge?" Hadrian remarks with a look to Briseis before he continues, "You clearly make up for it with wisdom. You've made fine points, so far. As has the Duchess."

Hadrian's hand drifts toward Luigi, groping blindly for something or another. Moments later and a glass is placed within his clutching fingers, which earns an appreciative nod from the Duke before he continues on with the discussion, harlequin eyes dancing randomly between Briseis and Cambria, "That is where my interested party may encounter their greatest pitfall. I can only imagine those lacking in knowledge would have a difficult time knowing where to begin. Do they compensate for their lack of overall skill with sheer protection afforded by steel? Or will they tire so quickly that it is more a burden than a boon? Then do they wear a set of leathers, hoping that a little pinch of luck will make up for their lack of experience?"

He rubs at his chin for a moment, seems prepared to continue, but seems to recognize that he has began to ramble. Thus he goes quiet and looks to each of his companions within the discussion, prepared to hear their own thoughts and observations.

"Well, when the grizzled veteran who sleeps in his armor shows up, then you can hear his opinion. Until then, you get mine and our new friend here," Cambria gestures to Briseis. "I think if you're not an individual trained in the ways of combat, then if you are only seeking a measure of personal protection, then light armor, leather, for example, would be the best choice."

Waving Luigi over, Cambria makes a request for her own drink. Nothing like a tall glass of water for a long night of talking. After taking a sip, she says, "You also make a good point. Ones inherent qualities should also be taken into consideration. Natural aptitude counts for a lot...but again, if the question is about someone who has no experience whatsoever, then I stand by my earlier statement. In addition, I would also say that such a person would have no business equipping themselves with any weapon. One cannot, and should not rely on the accident of luck."

Tap, tap, tap - steady fingers upon the arm of her chair seem to punctuate Briseis' flow of thoughts, even as she listens with the easy focus of a trained observer, gilded stare drifting from Duke, to Duchess, back again as each speaks in turn. Bemusement is evident in the quirk of her lips, that sparkle in her gaze, the adjustment of her posture into something comfortable - but still terribly proper.

"I have heard you should always hide a dagger in your boot. You never know when you might need it. But - for more diverse advocation? I cannot say I've heard true testament." A simple, casual interjection into that vein of the conversation, before she dips her head graciously and adds, "Observation and experience does wonders."

As if remembering her good manners, the young Morgan takes a moment, "Ah, yes, I do not believe we've had the pleasure of being formally acquainted. I am Briseis Morgan." An agreeable nod, "All good points. However, to that end, I should point individuals towards an armorer, someone who might better give advice on what is best worn. Leather is light, but indeed, I think some dispositions should be naturally inclined to something sturdier. And then, of course, there is the expense - alacrite and diamondplate may be the armor of the most noble and experience warrior, but such cannot be worn by the grunt who will most likely be at the front of the line."

A nod, mostly to herself, is given, before she continues, "Plenty of time should be spent in training before anyone truly tests their meddle and armor, and I feel, for most, it will adjust drastically as they understand their own bodies needs, and their own minds predisposition. There is something to be said and considered, for example, about how one will react in battle - will you be inclined to throw yourself between your opponent and your allies, or might you be more disposed to lingering in the back. The former might enjoy heavier armor than the latter, even if one discounts the style and ease with which it moves."

Hadrian's gaze shifts from Mazetti to Morgan, back and forth between the pair as their individual points are made. There's a bowing of the Duke's mouth while he grants silent consideration to the solid points consistently presented by Briseis. Though at the pause for introduction, Hadrian's smile returns as blindingly white and broad as ever, "Well met, Briseis Morgan. I am Hadrian Mazetti," he answers without honorific or title fixed to the start of his name. As for the Duchess among them, she's a big girl and can introduce herself.

In the meantime, Hadrian continues on with the discussion in earnest following the brief pause for introductions and the conclusion of Briseis' rapid fire True Facts, "Allow someone to whip you around the training yard, get an educated guess as to your needs, and then speak to an armorer; sounds like the ideal progression of events".

Hadrian's attention then drifts to Cambria and a little chuckle arises from the Duke, "Luck may be an accident, but in some moments it can account for a lot. Often unexpected, never reliable; but it can turn the tide of life itself".

The Duke finally sips from his glass - some manner of juice by the looks of it - before he carries on with the conversation, directing his attention again to Briseis, "My friend has long held the philosophy that there are an untold number of bodies that can wear armor that could be point between themself and danger. It's probably held true for a long while, but as previously mentioned the world is growing more unpredictable and I can only imagine that an added layer of peace of mind is desired," he explains before he concludes, "your point is heard though. While skill and training is of immense importance, also knowing the circumstances one intends to find themself in is of equally important measure."

"Cambria Mazetti," says the big girl herself. "A pleasure to meet you!" And for what it was worth, the Duchess does indeed seem happy to have met someone new. "Another admirable point. While we all have our opinions, a truly expert opinion should be sought. The men and women of this city whose profession is to kit out warriors, soldiers, and guards of all stripes would assuredly possess keener insight." Cambria regards her two companions for the discussion and concludes, "And for those who utterly lack experience, the city does boast an impressive and public training yard where I am certain there are many people who could provide further opinion."

"Likely, they would be more than HAPPY to do so," Briseis echoes Cambria's last sentiment, a grin threatening her expression - but then a messenger approaches her from the world beyond the Salon, and hands her a missive which, upon reading, has the woman shifting to her feet and dipping into a bow. "You are both adept at conversation and debate, though in such a gathering as this, I fear our minds are more in like than against. My duties compel me to depart, for now, but I do hope we may meet again. The Salon has not been active, as one might expect during these trying times, but such an afternoon spent with such company is refreshing, and perhaps needed more than some might be willing to admit."

A nod is given in agreement with Cambria's observations, particularly those acknowledging the points made by their conversational counterpart in the form of Briseis Morgan. Though when the latter makes it known that she must take her leave following the arrival of a note, Hadrian likewise rises up from his seat - but only after lugging his leg from across the arm of his chair - and he climbs to his full height swiftly as though surging up in answer to some unspoken challenge. No such challenge exists however and the Duke simply offers an appreciative bow and a thankful dip of his chin upon regaining his posture as he answers, "Your presence has been of immense fortune and I appreciate your gracing us with your wisdom, Briseis Morgan. Perhaps soon the Salon will again host more opportunities for discourse. Travel safely."