#afshin

Elris had never been to Iskaldrik in his years; he was afraid of what could happen to him. Maybe twenty years ago Elris would have survived it, but now... with his leg the way it was, he wouldn't have survived its mines. But the cane that had the very light of Laurelin flowing through it supported him as he walked closer.

Elris had expressed a frantic interest to Prince Ikaros a few months ago about several rings and their possible locations. Graciously, Ikaros had lent Elris his connection to set up a meeting in eterna as the chronicler believed it was harder to refuse an invitation from a prince than a noble in Avalon. To not misrepresent Ikaros, Elris was quick to bow as the prince entered the room "Thank you for your attendance at such a time, your highness."

Riandur wasn't cut out for niceties. In fact, he never had been. His only mistake in life had been getting caught, and here he was, a Legionnaire with so many endless winters under his belt at this tower, he was almost certain he would start shitting snow sometime soon. He also wasn't paid enough, or paid – at all – to deal with royals who were supposed to be far away. There were no outside laws that governed the Legion here, none but their own. And it was Rian's utmost pleasure to lead the infamous magic hating royal to one of the only other towers in the place that had a decent bedroll. "Your highness," he tilted his head in amusement as he pushed, moreso shoved, the door open to the room. The door made a grating noise as it scraped against stone, almost hard enough to light a fire. "Sufficient enough?"

“You’re not the only one who gets to use Tamima’s memory.”