87th of Ash, Year 120
"Eloise. Regis."
The man nodded towards both of them as they approached, the older mage -- Regis -- bowing his head slightly before maneuvering his way into one of the chairs. Eloise followed shortly behind him, pulling out her own chair and seating herself quietly with her hands placed together upon her lap. The woman's eyes affixed to the dining table for a moment, before she snapped back to reality, peering towards Taelian. He looked... odd. He had wings coming out from his back -- black wings with silver edges. Their fingers carried the same gilded texture, and the mage wore an emblazoned set of silver-colored armor to match. He looked... imposing; like a Daravinic general, she could most accurately relate him to. Eloise supposed that this was his form of 'evidence' -- that he was displaying his wings to prove to her that he was, in fact, a Draedan.
"Taelian -- you are a noble now, I've heard. A Celebrant. You... ah, married the man we sent to advise you, Lord Wendell. Was this a development you intended for, for some time? Was it founded by passion, or... pragmatism?" she asked.
"It was both," the Knight replied. "Lord Wendell is a profoundly handsome man -- and a romantic one. I get the sense that he genuinely cares for me, and -- I believe that I care for him as well. Love? Yes, I would be willing to call it that. He is my husband; of course I love him."
"I see," the woman replied. Not long after, as they stewed in a moment of quiet, Wendell himself entered the dining hall from one of the corridors of his estate. He seated himself beside Taelian and kissed him on the lips, the two sharing a brief smile before the man nodded to greet the Umpire and Regis, her guide on Rien affairs. "Well -- it is good that you are a Celebrant," the woman concluded. "More doors have opened to you, now. You live in Kastran, as well -- a place ripe for some level of opportunity. You see, the West End is a wide and open land... and in truth, the Kindred cannot be warded against quite everywhere. It takes a number of powerful magi to stop them -- Oath mages, Transposers, all manner of arcane craftsmen. Warding even one castle against them is tough labor. Yet -- by being here, you alone act as a deterrence. You are a Draedan, and -- while we do not know quite yet what that means for you, I'm certain we can all agree that you are powerful. The Count, Duncan, will be pleased to know that his courtier is what separates him from his lavish life and an untimely grave."
Wendell took Taelian's hand, before turning to face the other two Covenant magi. He thought for a moment, on the company he currently kept, and decided that transparency would do them little harm. In fact, he imagined they might be willing to assist in the matters he wished to bring. "We intend to replace him," Wendell confessed. "To -- Taelian and I -- become the Counts of this land. Kastran's wealth of resources, particularly lorianum, is phenomenal; as is its wealth of Knights. Not only is this place invaluable to the efforts of the civil war, but it could be invaluable to the Covenant's aims as well. For all we have grown as an organization... we are still largely comprised of advisors, at best. Is it not time for us to count rulers among our ranks?"
