A Ship's Departure & A Belated Dinner

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The gold-black bannered ship that had arrived to Regalia ten days ago released her grapple on the harbour's pier. She left port with a good handful of silhouettes aboard in the early morning light, the sun's rays glancing on the dull and worn golden ornaments around her aft. As soon as it reached the premise of the Crown Isle, the ship retracted her oars from the water and opened full sails, headed west almost as if the cloth was hinged up to catch the rays of the sun.

The ship did not falter until it moored safely in the harbour of Gram, the capital of Morgwenn.

A plume of dust emerged from the organ's pipe as the musician settled into a soft melody. The piped arched above the great hall of an estate, once noble though now scarred with missing floor boards, tattered wallpapers and rain-stained ceilings. The music accompanied around three dozen individuals who shifted into the hall one by one. Each wore the best they could afford, leaving the majority clad in black evening coats of various fashions and cuts. One of these was the middle-aged ex-duchess of Morgwenn who soon found herself seated at the end of the high table.

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The handful of servants still around the estate brought forth some aged Walerius wine and a meagre amount of food for the lot to have. Some gentle chatter befall the hall, soon interrupted by the chirping of a grandfather clock in the room marking midnight. When it ceased, so did the organ music in the background and the ex-duchess clinged a silver spoon against her glass to gain the attention of those present.

"Two years, ladies and gentlemen..." She stated, looking down the table. "... it's been two years since the Society last met. Much has changed. I have changed, you have changed, we lost members and we gained members."

The table did see quite a few empty chairs along its axis, the guests now looking at each other. Charlotte reclined in her chair, giving way for the man on her right to speak. He rose to a stand, glass in hand, and addressed the Society.

"Friends and allies, we fought together long and achieved much. Let us drink to those who are no longer amongst us."

Those gathered all stood up, glasses in hand.

"Issom, our old friend, alchemist and a steak-cutter whose wisdom never betrayed the table. Rest in peace."

"Ida, our most fierce warrior whose axe and magic never failed the table. Rest in peace."

"Darius, the ever-ambitious and ever-loyal, always in the front and always in the lead. Rest wherever you may have gone."

"Baron Banastre, the cunning, diplomatic and ill-fated. May you live in peace and find solace from politics."

The man looked around the table, then allowed the ex-duchess to speak up. She cleared her throat for her address.

"For the more jovial matters. My deepest and utmost respect to those who have held out in my absence and remained true to the society. And the warmest welcome to every single new member."

She lifted her glass of wine in the air, a fair smile crawling to her face as she panned her gaze between all the gathered.

"May we learn from yesterday, survive today and prosper tomorrow."
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The meeting continued with proper introductions from the new members and the old ones towards the former. Discussions of politics and noble relations were held, of charters and the past, of merry past times and achievements of old. Most of all, though, a hall that hasn't seen a proper meeting since the baronial uprisings was filled with familiar faces once more, all bound under the new Moselberg banner etched with the newborn phoenix.

OOC Notes

A little story I sought to write up with obvious implications. All who were / could have been present know it well, as well as the roles their characters probably took during the dinner.​