TIMESTAMP: Solace 7th, 4622 / 10:37
NOTES: -
NOTES: -
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It was a beautiful afternoon with clear skies over the mountainous city run through by ribbons of water. Within this picturesque place was Socorro manor, and walking its grounds at a languid pace was its master, Degare Socorro. Within the property was a rather lavish garden connecting the main manor, the valran and other servants' quarters, as well as the mage's own tower. The garden itself was almost more of a park with different sections depending on caretakers. Though much of it was kept by garden staff, there were some members of the house with green thumbs and a passion for flora. One would find plants of all types– lush greenery, bright, fragrant flowers, thorns and vines, plants of poison, and even some more monstrous looking exotic things. All were expertly taken care of by the loving hands that were assigned to them. Though the Ferrier himself was not one of them, he had ample appreciation for those with a more hands-on passion for botany.
However, on this day he had not emerged from his tower simply to observe the lovingly handled plantlife. Meandering through the manicured paths, the man makes it to a rather large pavilion in the center of the three main paths connecting the buildings. It was often used for entertainment or a gathering place for outdoor parties, but on this day there was only a small gathering of figures within it. Degare himself is someone who is often late to rise and slow to move, so it figures he would be the last to arrive. As polished leather shoes make contact with the well maintained wood of the pavilion, ruby-flecked amber eyes scan each of the already present figures. They included three valran and one other Veir. Two of his own Valran, a young man and woman with a penchant for blade work, alongside with a valran woman under the control of the other Veir. This Veir was Lore Corvane, a woman related to his parents by blood and him by his adoption into his house. She was human and rather young by comparison, the two sharing a bond more similar to uncle and niece than anything else.
Ever since a particular tragedy twenty years ago, Degare found it…difficult to connect with others. He'd watched the woman before him grow up, so for him, it was far easier to let his guard down around her since he didn't feel at all threatened. The elven mage greeted the group with a polite, simple bow– something that was far more courteous than a man of his standing would've been expected to do. When he rises, "Full glad am I you made the decision to visit and that your journey was safe," the elf speaks with a voice smooth like velvet. His long strides stopped when he had neared enough to the group and he rested his hands at his lower back before speaking again. "Tell me, how is House Corvane? Have you made any great strides with your bladework?" He asks these questions with a warm, interested tone.
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It was a beautiful afternoon with clear skies over the mountainous city run through by ribbons of water. Within this picturesque place was Socorro manor, and walking its grounds at a languid pace was its master, Degare Socorro. Within the property was a rather lavish garden connecting the main manor, the valran and other servants' quarters, as well as the mage's own tower. The garden itself was almost more of a park with different sections depending on caretakers. Though much of it was kept by garden staff, there were some members of the house with green thumbs and a passion for flora. One would find plants of all types– lush greenery, bright, fragrant flowers, thorns and vines, plants of poison, and even some more monstrous looking exotic things. All were expertly taken care of by the loving hands that were assigned to them. Though the Ferrier himself was not one of them, he had ample appreciation for those with a more hands-on passion for botany.
However, on this day he had not emerged from his tower simply to observe the lovingly handled plantlife. Meandering through the manicured paths, the man makes it to a rather large pavilion in the center of the three main paths connecting the buildings. It was often used for entertainment or a gathering place for outdoor parties, but on this day there was only a small gathering of figures within it. Degare himself is someone who is often late to rise and slow to move, so it figures he would be the last to arrive. As polished leather shoes make contact with the well maintained wood of the pavilion, ruby-flecked amber eyes scan each of the already present figures. They included three valran and one other Veir. Two of his own Valran, a young man and woman with a penchant for blade work, alongside with a valran woman under the control of the other Veir. This Veir was Lore Corvane, a woman related to his parents by blood and him by his adoption into his house. She was human and rather young by comparison, the two sharing a bond more similar to uncle and niece than anything else.
Ever since a particular tragedy twenty years ago, Degare found it…difficult to connect with others. He'd watched the woman before him grow up, so for him, it was far easier to let his guard down around her since he didn't feel at all threatened. The elven mage greeted the group with a polite, simple bow– something that was far more courteous than a man of his standing would've been expected to do. When he rises, "Full glad am I you made the decision to visit and that your journey was safe," the elf speaks with a voice smooth like velvet. His long strides stopped when he had neared enough to the group and he rested his hands at his lower back before speaking again. "Tell me, how is House Corvane? Have you made any great strides with your bladework?" He asks these questions with a warm, interested tone.
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'Thoughts'
"Common Tongue/Speech"
"Raillen Tongue/Speech"
