[img]https://i.imgur.com/MQ1gtzU.png[/img]

The constellation of Aldask hung in the sky above the courtyard, Erick was confident this was a good omen. As one story went, Aldask, the most ancient and powerful of the Gods, often concealed himself as a stag in the realm of the mortal creatures. One day a human happened upon him, he notched an arrow in his hunting bow and let it fly, strong and true it plunged into the chest of the deer-God. As the arrow struck, the figure of the stag shattered into many large, shining shards which slashed deep wounds through the skin of the hunter, miraculously he survived but his sight was taken by the blinding light of Aldask; the human had only a few moments to witness this splendour, as the God’s earthly shell shattered. The hunter somehow stumbled home and told the experience to his kinsfolk which quickly spread throughout his fellow countrymen. It was agreed that from that day forth, a prayer must be uttered to Aldask before striking a deer, bow or otherwise, so the God may grant them exception to their mistake. In many areas of Jörda, this story was often interpreted to extend to any and every kind of animal.

The Court of Flowers appeared almost as if timelessness itself may reside here, where the Gods retired to recite their ballads. As the glow of the sun began to wane, the moon cast its cold and mysterious light in the darker places the torches did not reach, [i]mánibjart[/i] as this was called, where the lunar luminance gave for a short time divine and unpredictable power to the spaces otherwise enveloped in darkness, and sometimes, provided a gateway through which to glimpse the other worlds. The old magic was ingrained deeply into the people of Jörda, through tales and stories of the old Gods, but the true knowledge of it had been lost through time as the progress of man - of whom very few knew how to wield such power - dominated the natural and previously wild spaces of their land, and so it faded into myth and legend. Fear, reverence and yet acceptance, of this unpredictable magic, that presented a divide the thickness of a single thread between life and death, decay and rebirth - the domain in which Aldask conducted the fates of all within the mortal realm, remained strong however.

There were only four of them who had yet attended the courtyard, The Princesses Sulhana and the eldest, Annalise seemed to watch them approach from the platform with a collection of silent instruments. Erick had caught up to the Prince Gil, who had dipped his head in greeting the Princesses from a short distance, the Jörda prince addressed him in Orcish, “my friend, strength is upon you” he stated, extending his hand as such that may lock their arms in the way of the Orcish warriors, he met the bright blue eyes of the half-orc with his own of deep hazel. Erick was not fluent in the Orcish language, but was familiar with a few words, statements and greetings (although he wasn’t sure if the dialect was quite the same) from the warriors amongst the ranks of Jörda’s military - how they came to be there however, was a subject of particular tension between the two nations and was a matter of on-going diplomatic effort. Although Erick’s greeting may have been received with some distrust, the Afdan prince responded in kind before they turned their attention to the Princess Sulhana who had stepped forward with her sister to welcome them. Erick approached and he bowed to the Princesses in a similar display; yet his eyes did not avert meeting with their own each of them in turn, “Princesses” he stated in acknowledgement. The Princess Annalise was quiet, reserved, and seemed to allow her younger sister to take the lead, the Princess Sulhana was not unlike someone else he knew - bold, forthcoming…challenging? There was an underlying tone in her voice and gestures that seemed to imply that sometimes, oftentimes, her thoughts and words were misaligned, much like his little sister - a formidable foe…or ally perhaps, yet given their gender this usually was expressed in a far more subtle yet no less unsettling manner. Sulhana’s green eyes burned into him, examining, scrutinising in fine detail - he’d seen it before, her words were lighthearted however, she laughed and winked alluring them to her playful challenge. 

[i]Perhaps she’d like to see them try? Disarm them?[/i]

Erick knew he’d have to tread carefully, inhibition and.. sense was quite easily lost in this way. “Princess Sulhana, Annalise, please, I would like it that I might drink as the people of Astalia do drink” he pulled a small grin, he would like a drink if nothing less for something simply to hold and channel his nerves should they falter, for he did not have the pommel of his sword to absorb this energy from him, as such he made do with gently gripping a part of his cloak as though it was meant to be gathered, whilst the other palm was folded gently but produced his gestures as he spoke, otherwise he could not help but thumb the heavy rings on his fingers, which he mostly refrained from doing.