'Ah... your tone of dismissal wounds me so, ma'am,' Settionne proclaimed quietly, hand over heart as though his breast had been pierced by an arrow. Even so, he followed through on the Elven noble's pointer, taking up the bag of Elven silk and the items contained therein, though the material's value was lost on him. He did, however, perk his head at the mention of a free silver necklace, one enchanted in order to improve his vision at night. "Like walking in a field under a full moon with naught a cloud in the sky", as the lady said... though to Settionne's recollection, he'd never been beneath a full moon that had actually illuminated the night very well, even with the benefit of no clouds to block it out, be they natural or smoke-formed. He supposed it was a flowery metaphor for okay lighting that was common in the Elven tongue, and the necklace itself was very pretty, containing a large number of tiny emeralds in the shape of a sideways X with a vertical line coming off the top-right flange, seemingly emulating the combined crossed fingers and thumbs up that were a symbol of Fineki's cult. He could not say for sure that this meant the Queen or her sister knew the truth about his normal occupation, since it was also a general symbol of luck among Vrettonia's lower class and certain members of the rest of Vrettonian society (and presumably many other civilisations to boot, perhaps even that of Riverhope itself), and felt it would not be wise to ask about it regardless.

The other items were, it seemed to Sett as he pulled the necklace overhead, consumable in nature, though if he could get his hands on any more of the empty jugs of Guarden juice, he could sell them on after the fact for what he presumed would be a pretty penny. A well-made jug is a well-made jug, after all, and even his own weight in gold and jewels wouldn't last forever. He didn't suppose he'd be able to preserve his rations for long enough to retain much of the juice itself, even given that he had his own food supplies available for a substantial amount of travel, but if he could hold off on using the holy water, that'd make for a good starting point as far as his future cathedral went.

Beyond this, the Princess' words were merely directions, and then hardly that for how much of the early path would be set in stone (presuming all went well for everybody involved), followed by a request for questions, and the suggestion that everybody ate and got to know one another before they were dismissed. Sett had no issue with this proposal: since it seemed many of the other guests remained with thumbs up asses, if only for a brief moment, he made the first move towards feeding himself, acquiring as many choice morsels as he reasonably could for his plate before tucking in with gusto, reminding himself to refill his plate once it was empty - though so rich was this banquet compared to his typical fare that he wondered if he'd even succeed in clearing the plate in the first instance. As long as he would be wandering the Southlands, however, he figured acquiring as much sustenance as possible for the days to come would be appropriate, especially for his rather mild frame, for his constitution was one that insisted on little mass no matter how he ate, and even significant weight gained was oft lost within the week... a surprising boon, at least for the lifestyle of a priest.

[@The ZAX][@Fetzen][@POOHEAD189][@The Fated Fallen][@Lacks][@Luminosity]