Mykael doesn't respond to Sir Sidgad Romli's inspection other than to glance down at his armor and once the man has moved on Mykael proceeds to tuck in any loose garb, but he lets the man's critique slide off of him as he views each of the nicks to his armor and shield as points of pride. Armor that is in pristine condition is unused and untested and says nothing about a warriors experience other than to suggest that he is lacking in this regard. How could one present themselves to the Sword Lords in armor that is unscathed and expect to be taken at all seriously?
Zork is amazed at the hassle involved. As far as he is concerned he just wants his gold and to get back to the broads in the tavern but such is the life of those who will pay him so he is inclined towards following the pushed suggestions. He allows his horse and dog to be taken care of with instructions that they should be fed the best of foods for their diet. He then follows the man to the chamber and says, "I hope its not a eunuch that's going to be assisting me."
Theaton Keeps walking out, "No one is muzzleing white Fang and I do not need to be paraded if front of people. Look for me at Oleg's will see you there friends." Theaton walks out to the city gates with White Fang and his horse. He mounts them and gallops off towards Oleg's.
"Hm," Sir Sidgad just stares as Theaton leaves. "I will have to inform the Swordlords of this development. They are currently preparing for the award ceremony, but will send someone here when they're ready."
He leads Zork to his room where his extensive wardrobe is filled with a dazzling range of clothes in all colours and styles. It's clear this is a man who spares no expense on his appearance. He gives Zork free reign to pick and choose and leaves to pass on his message to the Swordlords.
Theaton makes his way across the courtyard, the escorting guard running to keep up. The gate guard murmur something to each other as they let you pass. The streets have litter from the previous night and more than a few hungover people lying or stumbling around. At the west gate a small crowd has gathered - farmers returning to their homes and fields out of town. The guards are checking everybody's bags as they leave.
It's a good half hour before messengers come to Archival, Mykael and Zork, inviting you to your meeting with the Swordlords. They escort you past the central courtyard to the north building where the corridors are narrower and more defensible. Waiting in a grand room with gold filigree around the ceiling and a great oak table in the center sit five well dressed individuals, two of whom you have seen before - just yesterday at the festival. Lord Mayor Ioseph Sellemius wears a red cloak with gold trim over a royal blue vest and white shirt, and Swordlord Jamandi Aldori wearing a tight-fitting black jerkin with silver details over a frilled white shirt which shows off her half-elven features. Three other Sworldords in similar jerkin and shirt combinations of different colours sit with them.
Ioseph is the first to speak as he stands, "Welcome, slayers of the Stag Lord! It is good to finally meet you in person! I am Lord Mayor Ioseph Sellemius and these are Sworldords Jamandi, Broiland, Taskarr and Komana."
Each of them stands in turn, and their handshakes are strong despite their lithe figures.
They pause to let you introduce yourselves.
"From herein anything we say in this room must not be spoken of outside. We reserve the right to disseminate our own information at our leisure, unless you specifically request not to."
Zork, nods in agreement about keeping everything secret. He stays silent awaiting the gestures of his hosts.
Going through the intricacies hammered into me by my uncle and tutors, I bow and introduce myself. "We are honored to make your acquaintance. I am Archival Oragor." When we shake hands, I commit each of their names and faces to memory and nod my agreement when told that what occurs in the room is not to be spoken of outside of it.
Mykael follows suit with Archival and bows respectfully as he shakes hands with the Sword Lords and does his best to follow what he knows of proper etiquette, likely something that has been drilled into him by his father from an early age. He says little though beyond what etiquette demands and acknowledges their request for confidentiality with a nod.