b"I do not believe so."  raven says with a nod.

((Okay, so Raven is all signed in, the horses are stabled, Elwin has gone to find a tissue (successfully, we will say) Quentin has found the Princess and said hello. You are in a large hall with representatives from all over the Westwoods and a few hours to kill.  Anything you want to do before lunch and the meeting?))

Mindartis is just walking around, taking in everything.

Elwin will meander around the hall, trying to start conversation with other attendees who look to be nearer to his age (especially the ladies.) He intends to keep a light mood throughout.

Raven moves to a less-busy place to review what she needs to say when she is in front of the assembly.

Del  fixes his sniffles rather than bothering with a hanky. Galanodel Tosh, Cantor, with more formality, will work the room. I assume there is a lot more information and bargaining between sessions than in the plenary, like in real international gatherings - listening for related information and spreading our discoveries. He is trying to prepare people to listen to Raven's account - people will be more likely to believe her if they also heard similar things from another source. Also on the alert for stories of missing kids, gnoll patterns, interplanar hijinks, &c.

Insight 22 and Persuasion 12

Quentin makes sure to tell the Princess that he will tell her everything that her brother has been up to at a later moment in time, and that if she has anything she wishes to tell him simply right a letter and Quentin can use his magic to send it to him quickly. He then excuses himself to talk to a variety of others, making sure to stop at and give a polite greeting to Lord Fiskel Druath. It is nice to see a familiar face, even if he can be a donkey’s backside. 

 As Raven quietly deals with public speaking jitters in a corner, Elwin and Mindartis wander the hall.

Mindartis overhears trade deals being made, petty bickering over border disputes, and representatives of Kalaine courts asking each other if anyone has heard anything from Zanderfell recently. There are also a group of representatives carrying on angry, secretive, whispered discussions.

It's hard for Elwin to judge the age of elves, who look youthful for hundreds of years, but he has been among them long enough to see some of the subtle cues of fashion and hair styling that give clues--real or falsely assumed--to the generation the elf grew up in.  There is nobody around his actual age (twenty- and thirty-somethings being considered barely more than infants by their elders) but he can see some elves that might be considered his relative age (100-175 years old.) There are several women among them.  A few who catch his eye include a wild-looking creature covered in tattoos and rough-cut furs, an extremely ornately dressed and arrogant-looking girl, two chatting together who, from the style of their dresses, seem to be from Kalaine, and a worried-looking red-haired elf who keeps looking toward the door. As he walks around, Elwin has an awkward problem, as he is occasionally stopped by elves asking him to bring them drinks or provide other services...although he is not wearing the black and silver tabard, it seems that some of these diplomats assume that a human dressed in black here must be a servant of the hall...

Del circulates, hearing many tales of gnolls penetrating into areas they should not have been able to reach, and of missing children, gnomes and small fey.  He also hears a couple of tales of demons and river monsters.  Silver-tongued Del is able to catch the attention of those whose concerns are related to his adventures, and soon has a fascinated crowd surrounding him and peppering his with questions.

After listening to Del, a lean and scar-faced elf approaches Raven. "Madam Ambassador, I have been listening to the tales your companion tells of the gnolls and hags and lost children.  I think we would all like to hear your news sooner rather than later.  I have drawn number 3 in precedence.  If you have not drawn higher, would you be interested in trading numbers?"

Lord Fiskel looks around arrogantly at being addressed, but when he sees it is Quentin, his expression warms slightly. You make polite conversation about mutual acquaintances at home, before he starts muttering how Ellantar should hardly be bothering with the Council, and ought to simply take charge of everything in the Westwoods. "A lot of untalented savages," he mutters, looking with distaste at the surrounding dignitaries. "And I had to draw for precedence.  Is it to be believed?  I am to wait to speak until the 19th place, behind barbarians and shopkeepers and fish-perfumed ships' captains."

Quentin politely smiles and says, "Ah but it is their way and it is sometimes easier to go with the flow. At least that's what I've found out during my time out here. Think of it as a time to theory craft at least. I'm sure theres a complicated spell you've been working on, try and figure it out in your head and then you can transcribe it inside your spell book later." 

Fiskel snorts and says, "As if it's possible to concentrate when these sheep are bleating about their petty problems. Still, I suppose you are right, and I ought to be above this.  Really, I don't know why the wizard consortium bothers to send anyone, let alone a competent spellcaster. You would think they'd send someone who has nothing better to do with their time." 

Quentin keeps his comment about who they sent to himself instead politely replying, "I'm sure they have their reasons. If you'd excuse me though, I haven't made my rounds through the hall yet and I might as well take full advantage of this opportunity while I have it." With a slight bow Quentin will take his leave from Fiskel, only able to handle so much from him. 

"I drew 15, so I am not sure you wish to go that far down the rankings."  Raven says with a sigh.  "If you wish to exchange though, I will do so."

The man nods and says, "The Redleaf Dale Court has little to relate except about gnolls and missing children, and from what I hear, you may have answers for us.  I will gladly trade."

He goes to the sign-in table to change your numbers in the ledger.

Eventually, lunch is served, a tremendously formal affair with the servants of the hall standing behind each chair ready to whisk away empty dishes, refill empty glasses, or respond to the tiniest request.

Afterward, the delegates line up for a formal procession into the conference room.  The room is round, its main feature the large conference table, also round. The chairs ranged around it are marked with numbers, and small plaques are placed on the table by each seat, along with parchment and writing tools, a tankard and a pitcher. Raven is easily able to find the chair marked as #3.  The wooden plaque on the table says 'The Court of Whispers' and a small wooden square with a # on it is inserted into a slot on the top. Between the first and last numbered seat sits the one-winged Aaracokra, several hourglasses of various size and a small bell and striker on the table before him.  Three levels of bleachers line the walls, and as the representatives begin to take their places, their assistants and attendants sit in the bleachers behind them.

Raven finds herself sitting between the only non-elf at the table, a worried-looking gnome at #2 and the wild-looking female barbarian elf. You can see Princess Anarórë down at #18 and Lord Fiskel at #19 next to her, Lady Naehice and Captai Kibble among others in the bleachers behind her.

When all are seated,  the Aaracokra Timekeeper rises. "It is the time of the new moon," he says. "Let this meeting be a time for new beginnings, a time to lay aside the grievances and regrets of the past, and a time to come together and shape the future. May all the gods of Talaveroth and the Westwoods look down with favor upon this gathering, and may all partake in the spirit of unity and community to work for the mutual good and preservation of the Westwoods."

He takes his seat again saying, "His Excellency, the Ambassador of Slate City, Lord Picres Flaume, the floor is yours." He strikes the bell and turns over one of the large hourglasses.

A plump elf in extremely ornate robes, with an angry expression, stands up. "Friends and ambassadors," Lord Picres says, "Slate City stands on the brink of disaster. Pirates have been making their way up the river from the coast.  I am told that the bronze dragon who once guarded the river's mouth has been slain, leaving us without defenses against this incursion.  It is nearly impossible to raise any sort of army, as our peasants are on the brink of revolt, ignorant fools, riled up by rabble-rousers, and inflamed by ridiculous stories that their children are being stolen by the city's gentry for arcane experiments, sacrifices or even to be served as the main course in debauched banquets. And where are our trained and able fighting men while this crisis is unfolding?  Off on the southern border, supposedly defending the Westwoods against gnoll invasion.  And yet, every day the river crews bring us stories of sighting gnolls along the banks. Tell me why our elves at arms are being wasted to shore up an ineffectual guard over the border, when the gnolls are apparently being allowed to swarm into the forests as they like.  Explain why our fighting forces are needed to defend southern courts while our own city is to be left nearly defenseless!  Slate City intends to issue a command to all our warriors to return home at once, and deal with our own problems."

He sits down, and the Timekeeper tilts the hourglass onto its side to stop it. "Do any wish to respond to Ambassador Lord Picres's words?"

((Raven has the option to respond if she likes, but I will go on rather than make everyone  wait for the next speech, if she has nothing to say yet.))

Several of the ambassadors respond, some pointing out that the southern cooperative army is all that keeps the gnolls from sweeping over the entire Westwoods in a wave of destruction, others agreeing and saying that they also need their fighters to come home and deal with local dangers.

When the response to Lord Picres is finished, the Timekeeper asks if he has anything further to add, and Lord Picres says no, and that he cedes the floor. The Timekeeper turns his hourglass back and sets it aside to run out.

The Timekeeper calls out, "His Excellency, Special Envoy from Yonpinagel, Guildmaster Viggo Quillic Wakabaka Jooboo Mossop Flanget Blagobag. The floor is yours." He rings the bell and turns over another large hourglass.

The gnome stands on his chair, twisting his hat in his hands nervously. "My good friends, representatives of the great elven courts of all the Westwoods," he begins. "Yonpinagel is in crisis as well. We have no pirates to deal with--we almost wish we did.   Our streets are empty.  Our inns and hotels are empty. Our shops are void of customers. Our workers are having to flee the city to return to the burrows of their clans as jobs become scarcer. The crowds who used to come to marvel at the Great Pixie Tree come no more. But I would remind you that the site of the burned tree is still a holy place, worthy of pilgrimage.  The great assembly of druids and spell casters at their high magic ritual to restore the tree is still a wonder to be seen.  Though our world-famous confectionery shops are closed due to the sugar shortage, we still have much to offer as a travel destination. Our water parks are unrivaled as a fun and exciting family activity. Our Menagerie is a wonder, housing every kind of beast known to Talaveroth...at least, as long as we can still afford to feed them.  The Palace of Illusions can show the most entertaining and enlightening scenes from history, distant lands, or pure imagination.  Our Museum of Monsters is an exciting and terrifying attraction, with vital educational value for any would-be adventurer! In short, my friends," he concludes, "I ask you, when you return to your homes, to please remind people that we exist, and that a visit to our city would be the highlight of any Westwoods journey. We do not ask for charity or beg for aid...though...we would not refuse it if offered. We only ask a few words on our behalf, when you return home, to remind people of the wonder that is Yonpinagel." 

Nobody responds, and Guildmaster Viggo cedes the floor with an expression of resigned despair.

The Timekeeper calls out, "Her Excellency, Ambassador Mistress Raven Blackblade, Esquire." He rings his bell and turns over one of the large hourglasses. Word has spread that you have important news during the time preceding the meeting, and every face turns to stare at you with urgent expectancy.

Quentin gives the others within the stand a look as the poor gnome mentions sugar shortage and everything that is available right there at the Pixie Tree. It was a destination they were talking about visiting and he just gives them a raised eyebrow and a nod hoping they understand what he means. 

Elwin glanced at the plump elf curiously. He somehow seemed familiar, yet the warlock couldn't place him. He wondered how long the lord had been overseeing Slate City; perhaps he'd spotted him once years ago?

However, the news he brought turned out to be quite disturbing. The bronze dragon had been slain? Pirates? And then the child abductions had reached even there?! It was almost too much to absorb quietly. While it was true that, like most of the riff-raff of the area, Elwin felt no particular love for Slate City. But it was still home, and the idea that something like this could have happened during his difficult childhood made his jaw clench. He silently cursed the abductor, and renewed his vow to destroy the monster.

Del thinks of - then starts composing a more diplomatic version of - a lecture for fat-ass Flaume of the subject of gratitude

He answers Q - which surprises himself 

Raven gets to her feet and faces the assembly bsquarely,.

"As I assume many of you know already, my companions and I have been looking into the issue of the missing children, and have rescued many from where they were being held captive. From the streets of the Free City, to the Court of Whispers, we have found and freed many of these children." She goes on to detail, in brief, the issues around the children they freed, the battle at the second cottage, and then the issues the queen had wished her to speak of in particular for the Court of Whispers. She would be glancing at the hourglass often, but try to get everything in, making sure to speak on all of the issues the queen had asked be brought up here. She especially makes sure to talk of the three hags they fought and the belief they were trying to bring back the high hag.

Performance: 25

Mindartis had been rather happy, though the reminder of the missing children have slowly turned his smile sour.