[center][h1][url=https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1432530][color=a2d39c]Marcus [img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/392744031378997248/394235344515760137/A-Marcus.png[/img] Lakeltia[/color][/url][/h1][/center][hr]Before Marcus got his hands on any of the people who had researched the other threat they were facing, he encountered the Duke once again. The invitation to the feast would be well received: Now that he was no longer absorbed in his task, Marcus did feel the pang of hunger in his gut. And if something was for certain, they should not rise against the threat in anything but their full power, something starving oneself would definitely deny from them. The great hall had been prepared with but the most notable of foods of all the cultures, a sight that caused a slight twitch at the corner of the paladin's mouth, briefly revealing one of his more orcish teeth before it was hidden behind his lips once again. With all that had been spent on this, just how many less well off folk could have been fed? But now was not the time to think of such things.

He looked around for a second to see if there would be any servants whose services he could ask for getting him out of his metal shell. After all, it would be horribly disrespectful to sit in the table of a trusted ally covered in several layers of steel, as if expecting a knife to be embedded into his back at any moment. And with the evening approaching apart from this feast and the communion with Tyr himself there was nothing in particular planned, so it would need to happen in any case. And if the gods had foreseen an attack on this very city, surely they would have mentioned such a thing? No, as far as he knew they would ride out tomorrow. A night's rest would take place before that. "Excuse me, Duke Vicente", he said after a second, content at the amount of servants that seemed to be around. He could request the aid of one without causing much of a fuss, "but I would like to request a helping hand in changing to a more reasonable set of clothing. Full plate would be just disrespectful to your hospitality."

To nobody's surprise, the paladin was provided with the helping hand or two he had requested and they would move away as quietly as they could. In but five minutes, the half-orc was already back, now dressed in the vestments of Tyr. Wherever he went, he was a representative of his religion as well as his self. To his luck, nobody had started any speeches while he had been gone so instead of waiting at the door he could simply slip into his seat and see how the situation would develop. He had helped himself to some duck and several side dishes as well as a cup of mild wine when Lonett decided to share their collective findings. Marcus mostly nodded along, not finding much need to interject at any point.

After Kethan had shared his thanks for the insights provided by their research, Marcus raised his right hand before his mouth and let out a gentle cough. He had been ready to speak either way, but now that he was addressed directly there was no doubt who had to be next in line. "Let me begin by addressing the question of my communion with my god. At this moment, that has yet to take place. I had decided to consult the ones heading North just as well, see if there was anything they would like confirmed or denied. With us gathered here, I cannot think of a more ample opportunity to hear out those queries, but naturally I must reserve at least a question to confirm whether Caelmarth is where our band should be heading or not. Though I doubt such insight would prove to be false, being sure of the verdict is the basis of sound judgement." His voice was even, the oration flawless. His history as a public speaker showed, though with the matters being as clear as they were, no false confidence was needed.

On the other hand, he had noted that Lonett was not even nearly as confident as him. He let his gaze diverge into her direction momentarily, but it remained there for but a second. He cut a piece of the duck and held the meat in his fork before his mouth, turning it around for a bit as he thought. "As for circles of teleportation, I cannot say I would have heard of such a rumour. Additional research to the possibility could be considered for the morning, or for those of us who enjoy a nocturnal cycle of life perhaps already after this meal. I do not count myself among those, however. However, as far as I remember, the Seat of Mavros is the closest settlement to said ruin. If I am not wrong in that, anything we find would have a very real chance of serving as a den of monsters these days, or worse yet, broken." A grim outlook, but the most realistic from his point of view. He placed the fork into his mouth and began chewing on the meat.

Now, who would be the next in turn to speak? Those gathered here were much fewer than he had suspected. The absence of the former Duchess was not as much of a surprise to him, the nobility had things to do, but the other heroes of the realm being missing piqued his interest. There should be nothing that would hold them from arriving. Perhaps they were still on their way? That would mean a reiteration of the conversation later, but that he could easily deal with. Surely nobody had been foolish enough to consider desertion!