[h3][center][u][color=teal] Sir Rhayven A. DarkMorne [/color][/u][/center][/h3]

	Rhayven exhaled upon reading the letter he had just received, then looked out his window at the core keep of South Haven. A teleport spell to the main keep was an interesting thing, especially if it could be preserved. Looking up from the castle to the sun in the sky he estimated he had plenty of time to gear up and get to the meeting. As he dressed he frowned his mind returning to a night in the not to distant pass where unearthly screams had echoed across the city. With a grunt mostly to shake himself from his thoughts he holstered his two weapons. He now stood armed, and armored, a layer of leather reinforced with small light, metal plates made up his armor, what most people didnt know was that those plates were magically enchanted, offering him the protection of scale male, but weight more akin to light chain. Crossed across his lower back he wore two weapons, one a sword about the length of a long sword, but curved slightly and with only a single sharpened edge, the other was a spear, identical in total length to the sword, it looked a child's toy, though upon inspection it would become obvious it was deadly sharp and wrought like the sword, from what seemed to be a single piece of metal. 

	Rhayven had been a resident of the capitol since he had completed his studies at the college and pledged himself into knighthood. As would probably be a familiar story he had served, for fifteen years he had been in service to the crown. At fifteen he had been shipped to the college, his mothers arrangement after discovering he had the talent, but also Rhayven's hearts desire at the time. Ten years he had studied magical theory and the arcane, but in him was a drive to use magic practically, to experiment, discover, and refine in real world use. He choose the knighthood, after all, his father had been a knight, and his grandfather before him. It felt as much a calling to the twenty five year old as magic had to the fifteen year old. Sometimes you just know what you are born to do. As a child he had practiced horsemanship, though he was by no means an expert, his skill was still on display as he mounted up at the barracks at the city's eastern wall where he had been serving a rotation in the guard.

	Rhayven trotted his horse through the outer city easily avoiding carts and other mounted knights on business, he wore the tabbard of his station as one of the city's guards and knights, and so citizens as best they could made a point of being out of his way. Lifting his eyes he focused his attention on the letter he had received now safely rolled up in a scroll case and in his traveling bag. It took him a little longer than expected to reach the castle. He still had sometime before the meeting, but he would need to hurry to accomplish his other task before the meeting. At the gate he explained his summons and the letter, he was thankfully taken at face value probably in accordance with his standing and rank. Riding through the inner courtyard he left his horse with the stable master offering the man a handful of silver coins so that the horse might be given barley with its oats instead of hay, he liked to spoil the animal since it could not spoil itself. Overhead a raven circled, before plummeting towards the courtyard, Rhayven used to this spotted the plummeting animal and held his arm out. The bird caught his wrist guard as it brought itself to a stop and picked its way up his arm to stand on his shoulder, its beady black eyes a little more intelligent than should make anyone comfortable.

	Rhayven got a few distasteful looks as he entered the hall the bird on his shoulder, but he had long since gotten used to it. The raven was large, much larger than a falcon or hawk and its imposing place on his shoulder had been established not long into his tenure as a knight. The bird had been part gift, part joke, from the men of his first command, though at first Rhayven was not amused the bird grew on him and stuck to and with him in ways that seemed odd at times, so he would not face this next assignment without it. Spotting a man with whom he had some familiarity he approached Sir Zed Petronus, often a fixture for knights who had business in the kings keep. Rhayven quickly explained his business and his needs, first to the infirmary, then from the infirmary to the council chambers. At a brisk walk Rhayven made his way towards the infirmary a tingle building in one of the scars across his back, he had never had the pleasure of being treated by the kings own physicians, but he had plenty of experience with infirmary and field hospitals. 

	This hospital was no exception, they all smelled the same, chemicals and antiseptics, and the subtle scent of death. Rhayven shook his head as the bird rustled focusing on the moment he was in, and the business he had. Rhayven found one of the attendants a nurse by the looks and sent her to find the doctor he was supposed to be procuring. As the woman returned accompanied by a man who demonstrated authority within this element, Rhayven spoke[color=teal]"Doctor Hawthorne?"[/color] the words hung in the air while the knight held the doctors gaze until a nod was given, all the answer Rhayven would get. [color=teal]"Your presence is requested in council,"[/color] Rhayven accompanied the words by removing the scroll from its case and unrolling it so the doctor could read the instructions the knight had received. With the doctor satisfied some nobody knight was not just ordering him about for no reason, Rhayven returned the scroll to the case. [color=teal]"If you would follow me please Doctor Hawthorne."[/color]

	Rhayven made brisk time, the doctor at times jogging to keep from falling to far behind, the directions he had been given were burned into his mind and he followed them to the letter. His arrival at the council room was what you might expect, he wore no helm as some other knights might but the hood of his armored leather coat was down, his white hair falling around his ears a contrast to the vibrant blue of his eyes, as he pulled the door open, and allowed the doctor to proceed him. Unlike others who might be seated or the doctor who was pacing and mumbling about this being important as he had patients to attend, Rhayven found a place to lean against the wall where he could both see and hear the business of the council. His eyes swept around the room to identify those within he did not recognize two others who seemed to be knights, and it seemed their host had yet to grace them with their presence.