Tarn Darvic's page

"i believe he is speaking about other planes of existence... like the positive material plane, or the seven heavens..."

Tarn chuckles.

"no my friend, i do not need an inquiry made on my behalf. I assure you, however i see how seeing to your subjects will be difficult."

Tarn smiles and greets Theodric firmly.

"Ha my good man, i am currently available to the right woman. It seems with all the traveling i have done recently, my schedule is clear... why? did you carry the note of a particular lady?"

The young man in the corner slowly rises.

"Good! there is still fire in the hearts of some nobles... and those realize what it means to be noble. We have a duty to the nation, to our fealty chains..."

He walks to each member in the room and greets them individually.

"Greetings, i am Tarn Darvic."

"Titles are not jewelry, they are duties and responsibilities."

The young man in the corner plucking a lyre thoughtfully speaks out. His Black duelists hat with a Red plume dances a light jig, as he stands.

"Each title is an enforcement of power and the protection which the citizens of Taldor rightful deserve in service to the Grand Prince. We act as protectors, tax collectors, and law for the country. Not to simply wave our titles like some newly acquired signet ring. It is hard work, and for that i am thankful to fill my part and do my duty..."

He smiles.

"of course, if you think title is just going to parties and rubbing elbows with nobility, i suggest you recant your title and spend sometime grubbing in the dirt and sleeping on logs."

"Very few know how Aroden died, and frankly they are not talking about it... i totally believe it was the chelaxian nurse with the pillow in the study though."

Tarn shakes cracks a smile.

"Talk about bosom... i think he went out with a smile... mind you i am totally jesting here... no need to freak out."

*Tarn cracks a smile*

Well played Sir, well played indeed.

The right splash of blood can add a bit of mystery to the theater, of course i recommend a nice stained and lacquered dark wood to keep it from being a point of distaste.

*He continues playing the Lyre while speaking, his eyes focused on the room with practiced ease.*

Rum is nice, though a bit... harsh. If your going to a island estate, may i recommend a nice wine. The salt air, seems to concentrate the fruits flavor... rocky and harsh... strangely seems to bring the the best.

A young handsome man with short blonde well groomed hair and piercing blue eyes, spins a chair around and faces the assembled.

"Glorious death... surely my lord, it is better to live and relish in that glory. I suggest that we focus on the lives which we hold dear, whether it be our own, or that of our people that we do all that we can to not sacrifice lives in the coming conflict. It is well known that the wound is not going away... it will forever be a scar, blight upon the northern lands. There will be conflicts other then it, which will come in the future. It would be best to have the manpower to fight other, winning battles."

He pauses dramatically.

"I am not saying we should not fight, simply that we do so without rushing headlong into the maws of the abyss spawned terrors which now control those forever blighted lands."

So much curiosity and intrigue, education is always the best method to teach how one should act in polite society.

*He softly begins to play his Lyre to ease the tensions in the room*