In the heart of Helvetia's capital city, Carmen Andario Friston dismounted from his horse and walked through the front gate of the luxurious brownstone building ahead of him. He carried himself calmly and dignifiedly, though he often scanned at the nearby vantage point as if worrying over an ambusher or the pursuer. The most advanced city in the entire continent did not have an inch of its grass unlit by their exquisite lighting system, but Carmen knew Sinners and Heretics alike only fear God's light, not the one made by men.

He stopped for a moment. To breathe, and tip the large-brimmed galero that he had personally stylized with black feathers and some slight turns-up on its side brims. As he straightened himself, his posture, coat, and hat gave him the silhouette of a ramming battleship.

With a thoughtful push, so he would not disturb his brother and sisters resting in the dorms on the second floor, he opened the door. At the end of the room, he saw someone kneeling on the altar.

"It is me, Archbishop," Carmen said. "I am sorry, I did not know you were praying."

The man wearing white vestments stood up and turned back at him. He was smiling. Archbishop Saunière was his name, a saintly man who provided him a sanctuary during his stay in Helvetia. The one that held a respectable position in the Synodal but chose to not meddle in the so-called high politics, and would rather focus on the real problem, like the disappearance of Paladin Thomas. An idealism Carmen held in high regard.

"It is alright. I pray for you." the elderly bishop patted his shoulder and continued raspily. "I presume all went well with the meeting?"

Carmen knew he didn't have to show it, but he showed the authorization letter anyway, like an apprentice showing an achievement.

"A lot of hearsay I heard about this particular woman, but it was too easy." Carmen felt a slight pang, it wasn't that easy, and some tense words were exchanged, but it was no use to burden the Good Man in front of him with unimportant things. "It is all because of your blessing, and prayers. Thank you, Archbishop."

"Thank me not, My child, for it is by God's will our plan proceeds smoothly. Come, let us meet with the others."

Our plan...

Carment fought a rising feeling of trepidation as he followed the aged Archbishop through a dimly lit cloister. It was still an overwhelming realization that He and The Archbishop were the only people who cared enough to arrange a rescue plan for Paladin Thomas. He had heard about the situation on Sielse and the need to act cautiously. Oh, he heard it right, and Cardinal Senaux sounded like The Council's spokesperson when he delivered it. Shameful excuses, really. Since when did the Glorious Order of the Golden Sun have to bow down to a man-made organization and let itself be dictated by their whims? It all made no sense.

The cavernous hall was still part of the temple building. Built on its right wing, and although the architecture feels ancient, still gave off the impression of splendor. It was lit by four crystal lamps imported from Varenheim, and its walls were adorned with paintings of saintly people of the past framed in gold. On the northward of the hall, there was a large circular window in the shape of a golden sun, and below it seven panels of long windows of stained glass incorporating chronological episodes of Areston Lydus's ascension to glory. Helvetian Clerics named this place The Hall of Glory. A name that was somewhat grandeur but aptly described the sublimity of this place in just the right amount, one that didn't rouse greed; an abundance that makes you appreciate the blessing from God.

A long table had been situated in the middle of the room. Under it, a red carpet had been laid out to cover the shiny marble floor beneath, and on top of the table, modest food and drink had been served.

In that room gathered seven people. Some Carmen had the pleasure of making acquaintances, while some he never met before. The former would fit in the manifest without raising too much suspicion, while the latter... even he himself would presume that they would cause that elf woman he met before going ballistic.

He could see where her concern came from, but Carmen needed all the help he could get.

"Evening, Ladies, Gentlemen, Brothers and Sisters In faith." announced the archbishop, his tone was less formal than usual, probably to make those unofficial Pontifical Gendarmeries feel at ease. He soon walked closer to the table, took a goblet of clear-colored wine, and offered a toast.

"Thank you for allowing this old me to have one or two words," he said, then continued solemnly, almost like a sermon. "The preparation of this mission has been completed, Tonight We shall feast and savor our drink, just like Hero Areston Lydus feasted with his party a day before embarking on the journey to defeat evil. Let us rehearse The Revered's path, and may God grant us the same blessing he Granted for The Hero, for our mission is the noblest, and the intentions are equally commendable; to help the need and banish the evil. Amen."

"Amen."

Carmen raised his stemware and emptied it in one gulp, and as the warming feeling from the wine radiated throughout his body, he felt his pride swell. He had heard many rousing speeches, but never in his life he would imagine hearing the most impactful in a lonely hall with a handful of brethren. Now he feel like Areston Lydus himself, and he wanted the mission to start now.

But Carmen was sober enough to restrain his impulse. But one could wonder where that heart-punding zeal came from.

Was it because of the wine? He glanced about and his gaze fell on a young-looking girl wearing an oversized red hat and a veil. Funny how centuries ago those getups would earn her trouble with the Inquisitors, but today she was treated as a guest of honor.

"Quite a kick, wasn't it?" The casualness of the sentence startled Carmen a bit, but he always appreciates on-point language than one that is unnecessarily flowery. The bishop gestured at that strange girl and introduced her.

"Miss Amanaita has been supplying our communion wine for years, and the congregation likes it. The taste is unique, yet the proof is not as strong as the red wine. I told her about the mission and she seemed eager to help us, so I thought, why not?"

Archbishop Saunière then gestured toward a young blondie with luggage that seemed too big for her small frame.

"Meet Miss Linceleste York. Miss York had traveled from Kindeance to Helvetia on her own. Usually, I would send her back, but apparently, his Father was one of the followers of The Order's teaching, and apparently Paladin Thomas's niece. She will go with you on this mission."

Finally putting down his goblet, Saunière patted Carmen's shoulder and bid a goodnight at the party.

"Tomorrow morning you will depart through the Secret Path under the monastery. Not even The Council spies know where it leads to. May your path always lead toward righteousness, my Children."

Then The archbishop retreated back to his chamber, leaving Carmen with his soon-to-be companions.

Besides the two strangers earlier, there were also familiar faces like Baroness Carnatia de Valmont, a nouveau riche whom, as that elven Case Officer suggested earlier might or might not be here for Casterdiar's interest.

Then, there is Mirielle. One of the Archbishop's bodyguards that in Carmen's opinion would fit more in an Inquisitional position.

Beside them. There are also hired men at arms, Each with their unique quirks that at first glance felt almost too overwhelming for him to process.

There was Ludvig Morsanqvist, a charming escape artist who seemed like he would be more sucessful as a theatre actor than a hired adventurer.
There was also Sten Rezello, a run-of-the-mill Westernant mercenary who looked pretty normal except for the sinister broken mask he insisted on wearing all the time.
And last, but not least, Osric Griswall. A local blacksmith and self-proclaimed inventor, who didn't seem bothered to make himself appear more presentable entering the place most would deem sacred.

Like he had assessed before, all with their own quirks. But he wouldn't complain much; no thanks to that troublesome Case Officer, they had wasted weeks hiring and un-hiring candidates for this mission, and this was his last straw. He had insisted that they had no more time to spare, and had told her that the order would send their Pontifical Gendarmeries with or without her approval, Council's opinions be damned.

And it somehow worked, and he got what he needed. The Council's approval, and most importantly, the communication devices that he could use to try to contact Thomas once they arrived in Sielse.

Of course he knew the elf wouldn't just hand out such devices without ulterior motives, but whatever it is, the benefit is far greater.

"I am sure some of you already know me, and some are not, and for that, let us start anew." He began, and to those he had not yet introduced himself, he placed his wide hat on his chest and bowed.

"My name is Carmen Andario Friston, pleased to make your acquaintance. Please feel free to enjoy the feast, and if you have any questions, do not hesitate to ask me."

It would take 40 days from here to Seielse, enough to get to know each other, But it wouldn't hurt to start at this very hall.

---

Carnatia strode into the Glory Hall, briefly observing the guests that had been gathered there. With the exception of the familiar knight with black hair who had been a fellow hired adventurer in the 'Land of Twilight Expedition,' she was famous for, Carnatia had not met the rest of the occupants in the room.

Giving a nod to Sten, Carnatia took her seat as she continued to take stock of her companions for the search and rescue mission on behalf of the Synodus.

Some, such as Osric Griswall the famed gun for hire and Mirielle, a veteran inquisitor she knew by reputation. But the rest were more of an unknown, albeit with their own peculiarities. Such as the man with streaks of platinum blonde, or the girl who looked to be too young to be here—then again, she was about that young when she started adventuring after being exiled, so she did not have room to speak—and perhaps the most bizarre of them all, a girl wearing what appeared to be an oversized mushroom head.

Before long, the Archbishop arrived with the final member of their group in tow, who appeared like Mirielle, was also a member of the Church. As the two took their seats, the Archbishop gave a small speech before uttering a prayer.

"...Amen," Carnatia uttered as per the proper responsorial to the prayer. She wasn't particularly pious, at least not more than the average Westernant citizens. But in this hall, she was a guest of the Church, and especially as a noble representing Westernant, therefore proper etiquette needed to be observed.

The party then commenced, with the Archbishop making some more small talks. A peculiar thing that Carnatia noted was how the wine served came from one of the members of the group, introduced as Amanita Mycellia. She had been curious of the wine. It felt somewhat similar to a particular type of wine manufactured in some parts of Westernant called the Sauternes. Sauternes was a type of dessert wine, or sweet wine, with gold colour. What was unique of Sauternes was that it was made not from mere grapes, but grapes that had undergone what was referred to as 'noble rot', which was an euphemism to say that the grapes had been infected by a particular fungi. The fungi shrivelled the grape and gave its own characteristic, which end up concentrating the sugars, acidity, and flavours, resulting in rich, syrupy juice, full of honeyed and floral aromas.

The wine served here was like that, but not quite. The quality was not bad. The ageing aside, Carnatia could tell the grape wine used were not the premium horticulture specimen such as Sémillon, Sauvignon Blanc, or Furmint that was ideal for noble rot and instead were using cheaper, more common, variety. But it was somehow still passable for her palate, which was saying something. If she were to infer, then it must be the fungi that were special rather than the grape.

An interesting approach from Amanita, to be sure. It was quite novel, to her knowledge, as the conventional wisdom was to disregard the fungi quality and be more peculiar with the grapes. Amanita did the opposite.

A novel wine manufacturer certainly wasn't someone she expected to join her in this mission, but then again, neither were the rest of the group.

When Carnatia received the mandate from Casterdiar to join the expedition to find Paladin Thomas and his entourage as Pontificials, she certainly did not imagine these would be the fellows who would join her on the mission, the two members of the Church aside. While Pontificials were technically mercenaries, the word had...specific implications for the type of people who were hired as Pontificials. Typically they were the virtuous type. Not that Carnatia claimed to be a paragon of virtues, but she, at least could reasonably claim that she looked the part. It was not even that Carnatia condemned the manner of clothing by which these people chose to comport themselves, but pragmatically speaking—especially in a war-torn land like Tretagor—it would be easier to interact with the locale if they could lean into the reputation of Pontificial. Instead, with this group, Carnatia feared that the locale would treat them with suspicion wariness instead.

Which would not be ideal to their objective. Since the first step to bringing back home Paladin Thomas Sanders and his group was finding out what exactly happened, she imagined information gathering from the locale would be paramount.

She hoped that either of the Church members would be able to coax said information. Carnatia was no stranger to diplomacy, but in the end, she was a known figure from Westernant, and considering the history between Tretagor and Westernant, Carnatia doubted that the people of Sielse would be open to sharing information and whatnot with her. If anything they would probably be more suspicious of her,

...Not that it was unwarranted in this case. After all, she was representing Westernant as sort of a...propaganda piece, or rather, a justification piece would be more apt. Without being involved in resolving the incident, it would be hard for Westernant to portray themselves as the 'good guys' when they used this incident with the Paladin and his group to declare that Tretagor can no longer be trusted to keep order in Sielse and thus Westernant would be sending in a 'peacekeeping troops' to restore order in a 'humanitarian mission'. Annexation of the province, was, of course, the goal.

None of this was in the official mandate Carnatia was given, of course, for plausible deniability, but the writing was clear on the wall to Carnatia. Though to be honest, Carnatia was of the opinion that none of that concerned her. She was a noble of Westernant, and thus when a noble was given a mandate from the King, it was their duty to fulfil the mandate. The mandate was to help with the search and rescue mission of the missing Order of the Golden Sun's personnel. And that was what she would do. Political ramifications that came about after was...frankly, the domain of Tretagor's and Westernant's officials, not hers.

Prompted by Carmen introducing himself, Carnatia followed suit, pinching the tip of her skirt for a curtsy, "A pleasure to make your acquaintance Sir Carmen, while addressing the rest of the group, she continued, "I am Baroness Carnatia de Valmont, here to represent Westernant in the Kingdom's support for the Church and the Order of the Golden Sun. I look forward to work with all of you."

It had been an eventful few years for Mirielle. The sudden transfer away from the inquisitorial team was jarring and (in her brutally honest opinion) completely unwarranted, but apparently crucifying some heretics for everyone to see was quote "a bit too much" unquote. If the treatise of Head Inquisitor Viktor on combatting heresy from twelve-hundred years back was no longer valid someone should've amended it, which to be fair was almost immediately amended following the incident, but oh well. Fine, she admitted that some of the less faithfuls may had been a bit... horrified. Which was exactly the point of it all in the first place, but apparently that's no good anymore.

Didn't help that she's surrounded by cowards.

The following posting as Archbishop Saunière's personal guard had been something in need of adapting. Mirielle wasn't used to be reactive, but she was nothing if not alert at all times. Yet for all that it had been rather peaceful, at least on paper. Instead she discovered a newfound respect for the man, one who's willing to get things done instead of puffing in self-importance like so many others in the Order. So what if it's a bit clandestine?

Like the latest job. Paladin Thomas, the Thomas Sanders, disappeared when doing his best to do good for the world. By all rights there should've been personnel mobilizations weeks ago, instead the news was suppressed. Completely unacceptable. Thank the Creator that at least someone was doing the right thing, even if it meant she had to work with... unusual parties.

Piercing gaze scanned the people present, the supposed feast largely untouched in front of her. Mirielle hadn't had much appetite for the past few days, only her respect for Archbishop Saunière stayed her from marching out then and there. Orders be damned. None of the company she particularly recognized, though some she had heard of in passing. A mage of dubious origin, a supposed blacksmith of slightly less dubious origin, a sellsword and a foreign noble that got famous off an adventure a couple years back, and then there's a barely of age child and a strange woman with oversized hat that sets her senses off for some reason.

Some are concerning. But she had worked with worse.

She was spared unnecessary socialization with the arrival of the Archbishop, and - surprisingly - Friston! The man had went far since the first time they met, when he joined the inquisitors so many years ago. Surpassed her rank in no time at all, and likely only continuing upward since. Inquisitor news was always hard to come by. A grin flashed on Mirielle's visage, banishing the gloom from the last while.

"Amen!" Mirielle joined in the prayer great enthusiasm, taking a hearthy swig of the provided wine. Somehow it taated better now than five minutes ago, the warmth bubbling through her veins like liquid fire. This was it. The time for waffling around was over, and it was finally time for action.

The short introduction continued, though apparently only for the two most dubious personnel. She had no idea why would they need the Archbishop's winer, or to bring Thomas' own niece into a literal warzone, but far from her to question his wisdom. The Archbishop had been farsighted in more than one occasions. It will all turn well in the end, like it always had been.

Mirielle was the third in the introduction, standing ramrod straight without much flourish, candlelight dancing within the polished brass stars of her uniform. She flashed a friendly grin to Carmen before nodding to the rest of the party, tapping her left fist to the center of her chest twice.

"Name's Mirielle, ex-inquisitor. On behalf of the faithful everywhere I thank you all for joining this righteous mission, as the Creator once decreed that we shall never abandon our fellow man into the darkness!"

One could safely surmise that the man with his arms crossed, wearing burgundy-tinted sunglasses, had been dozing off for a while until the Archbishop and his feathered-tricorn-hat-wearing liaison entered the room.

Ludvig complained in his mind. He arrived way too early. There were no coffee shops open within a mile, and even if he found any, he forgot to bring cash with him as he skipped town in somewhat of a hurry.
He hasn't gotten enough sleep. He mouthed the word 'amen', cautious to draw attention on account of his souring mood; and abstained from drinking the mushroom-smelling wine, wary of feeling any drowsier than he already does.

Relax, he thought. He was about to let small trifles like lack of coffee and sleep ruin his first impressions with these people. A deep breath, and a li'l head shake to stave off negative thoughts.

Aside from Osric whose name didn't elude Ludvig from the start due to his sufficient popularity, that's been five names mentioned so far, and as none of the others seemed eager to introduce themselves, he figured it was his turn. He stood, albeit not as abruptly as the last.
Lightly scratching the right cheek of his face, a little nervous.

^{『 Ludvig 』} "Hello. Name's Ludvig with a V, used to be a circus carny, recently been doing some odd... jobs-- Yeah, I'm equally surprised as to why I've been selected for this mission, but that person believes in me, so I'll make sure to live up to their expectations."

Worth the lack of sleep, finding out that he'd been sent for by a most gorgeous elf. Not to say it's his only motivation but it definitely rose to being a major one.

A nonchalant thumbs-up, while happening to look at Mirielle.

^{『 Ludvig 』} "Let's save these people."

A little ahead of himself, given the non-rescue nature of the mission.

---

As she stepped out of the house. She was stopped by her own mother, Adela. The former ice queen from the snowy country doesn't like how her youngest daughter dresses. Instead of more practical attire for adventuring, the ice queen gave her the custom-made dress. It was enhanced with a magical defensive barrier that can block either physical or magical harm to the wearer and is able to rebuild again by using the wearer's mana. As she fitted with the dress, the ice queen rejoiced at the appearance of her daughter, approaching her little princess and giving her the ice blue necklace. Whatever the ice queen is thinking, the dress might be recognizable from the land of her origin. 

She arrived in Helvetia one day before the meeting. She treated herself from the places when, during the time she spent her time with her uncle as a kid, her father tripped to Helvetia for visits. Alone, she keeps remembering her uncle and also missing him for so long, due to the fact she came here for a reason. She looked at the scenery capturing the heart of the kingdom from somewhere on a higher floor of the building. Missing a person that treated her and her mother dearly despite knowing her mother and herself are not just ordinary humans. 

At the time she arrived at the meeting place, she kept her father and uncle’s teaching in her mind. When the archbishop gestured her to Sir Carmen for the introduction, she made a bow gesture to the gentlemen. Took the prayer heartily and with respect, responding Amen with all of her heart. 

Upon arriving at the meeting table, she sat beside the shroom girl. As the friendly introduction went on, she readied herself as she gave her attention to the people who introduced themselves. She settled in as taking the turn after that full-grown playboy. 

“I am Linceleste York. The new head of York Company, from the spices to masonry and humanitarian services. I am also certified as a magic engineer and an alchemist. I'm willing to save my uncle, that's why I accepted the invitation. I am looking forward to working with you all, sirs and madams,” she said with respect, then bowed for them and sat back to her seat. 

She then gave her attention to the next people who were going to introduce themselves. Also scanning those feasts for the requirements of her energy and health for the next adventure. 

"I am Baroness Carnatia de Valmont, here to represent Westernant in the Kingdom's support for the Church and the Order of the Golden Sun. I look forward to work with all of you."

"Ah, Baronesa Carnatia. It is a rare occurrence indeed to meet a fellow noble in a foreign land. I suppose I should say congratulations to you first. And a heartfelt apology that I was not present during your appointment ceremony."

There were both truths and lies in that statement. Carmen wasn't much for social gatherings, being a former soldier himself most of his time was spent either on the battlefield or in the chapel. He wasn't someone who could make friends fast, for friendship was not a shallow matter to him.

But tonight he would start to change that habit. Those who were present in this Glory Hall were strangers, unmeasured individuals, but one thing he knew was that they shared the same goal with him. Although those who Archbishop Suaniere recruited might be motivated by monetary gain, he could at least give them a chance to feel like a part of the fellowship, not just some hired sword.

So, Carmen started his get-to-know-you-better by greeting an old friend, and his sister in faith.

"Miriell... been a while huh?" he said to her when he placed his cup to the table. "The last time we met was in Castediar if I recall correctly."

Sitting now, Carmen gestured at Ludwig, the handsome man wearing black-tinted sunglasses who just introduced himself and uttered a positive remark that surely brought a smile to Carmen's face.

"Let's save these people." said Ludwig

"We shall, Master Ludwig, we shall. But since we are some thousand leagues away from them, hospitality comes first. Please sit down, I know you have been waiting for me for quite a while." Turning to everyone else, Carmen clapped his hand to get their attention. "Everyone please dig in, it is not much, but I am sure these modest refections are enough to satisfy us all."

It was indeed a modest dinner, but aplenty. At that table served a basket full of plain bread, two roasted turkeys, some servings of salmon, a cauldron of soup, and steamed vegetables and peas.

Now sitting at the centermost position, Carmen had claimed a plate of soup and a baguette. His eyes darted at the blonde girl who sat next to their strange wine supplier. She had just finished introducing herself, along with some more information Carmen wasn't so sure whether she was bragging or it was just the introduction line she had rehearsed before.

"That's a lot of responsibilities, señorita York. I could only imagine how much effort it took to have you here."

Carmen leaned forward, his attention was still at Linceleste. "I am sure someone like you is very capable, but I have to ask, Senorita, have you ever been to Tretagor before?"

He shifted to everyone else. "What about you, Friends, and Sister, have you ever been to the place where Pladin Thomas went missing?"

---

Carnatia then watched the others start introducing themselves. Some of them, like Mirielle and Ludvig seem dedicated to the mission. She had expected as much from Mirielle, being a member of the Church, but she was under the impression that Ludvig was more lackadaisical. Though in the end, even if it were lip service, that boded well for the mission, he'll keep up the appearance, if nothing else. Carnatia noted that Ludvig might be a good potential negotiator with the locale. He seemed approachable enough and was—if nothing else—willing to keep up the appearance of virtuous pontificals on a humanitarian mission, that might be effective in gaining the trust of the locales. Furthermore, a pretty face always helped in negotiations. Perhaps not the most egalitarian concept to be kept in mind, but that was the reality of things.

Linceleste York, meanwhile, turned out to be the niece of Paladin Thomas Wayne. Carnatia was even more unsure of bringing her along, given the potential conflict of interest. On one hand, that meant she would be even more dedicated to saving her uncle, on the other hand...that might also make her emotionally compromised, prone to making rash decisions. Well, in the end choosing the personnel for the mission was not her responsibility, that was outside her jurisdiction, so to speak. So she would respect the decision to include York in the mission. At the very least, if her words could be trusted, her skillset could prove to be useful.

"Ah, Baronesa Carnatia. It is a rare occurrence indeed to meet a fellow noble in a foreign land. I suppose I should say congratulations to you first. And a heartfelt apology that I was not present during your appointment ceremony."

"Oh, no, it's quite all right, sir. I'm sure you had your own duties to consider. In any case, it was a ceremony to confer a noble title for a Barony, nothing a Count Household such as yours have to concern themselves with. I do appreciate the gifts from your Household, though. In particular, the exotic coffee beans grown in your fief...Earth Almond, I think they were called? Made for an interesting gift. I admit, I am more familiar with tea than I am with coffee, but coffee is not bad at all. The Horchata de Chufa made from those beans are quite the treat during summer when served ice cold."

Carnatia had never interacted much with the Friston Household, who governed the Servielle Province in the Southwest, even when she was part of the de Luson Household, given that their lands were somewhat opposite of each other. The de Luson House, being a Ducal family had deep ties to the original families that first made up Westernant and culturally the land they govern was what one would think of quintessential Westernants in demographic and culture. the Servielle Province, meanwhile was a vassal state annexed at one point during Westernant's expansion and was culturally somewhat different from the native of Westernant. They were given a relative degree of autonomy and today, Servielle maintains its own cultural identity under the umbrella of the Kingdom.

Finally, Carnatia approached Amanita, who had hitherto been silent.

"Pardon me, Miss Amanita? You were the one that supplied tonight's wine, I believe? They seemed to be somewhat similar to botrytized wines such as Sauternes. Were they manufactured through a similar process? I noticed that the wine grapes weren't premium grapes typically used for botrytized wines, nevertheless, the flavour was quite excellent still, if you do not mind me asking, were the grapes specially treated or were special fungi used to induce the noble rot?"

@Deide

Rezello

---

The Order of the Golden Sun. Though not well-versed in the world's various religions, the Order was one that Rezello had heard about more frequently than most during his adventures, be it from traveling priests, clerics that he had occasionally allied with while undertaking jobs too much for an individual to handle, adherents keen on sharing their faith with others, and other such individuals. From what they shared, he knew that the Order was powerful, but it wasn't until he had been hired on as a Pontificate and brought to the temple in Helvetia's capital that the full extent of its influence became apparent to him.

Seated in the Glory Hall, he silently scanned the decorations and paintings adorning the walls as he awaited the others, wondering to himself what sort of character and accomplishments the individuals depicted in the latter must have had in order to earn such veneration. Lost in thoughts, he hardly even noticed his future allies begin to arrive, his focus only broken by the Archbishop's welcoming speech. Aside from the man now speaking, seven others had joined the room, one of whom Rezello immediately recognized - Carnatia, the noblewoman who had participated in the same expedition he took part in two years ago.

As the Archbishop's prayer concluded, Rezello joined in with the rest of the group's "Amen", albeit slightly delayed as he was not quite familiar with the customary response. He took a drink of his wine, finding its taste to be roughly within his expectations of what wine is like. There was a hint of something unusual about it, but his palate was hardly refined enough to tell what, let alone fully appreciate it. Regardless, free drink was free drink, and it had given him no reason to complain.

With the prayer and first drinks out of the way, some of the members of the forming party began to introduce themselves. Carmen, the man that had accompanied the Archbishop when he arrived, began, followed by Carnatia. Mirielle, a former inquisitor, came third, then a man named Ludvig - spelled with a v, apparently - and finally Linceleste, a young woman who looked to be roughly the same age Rezello was when he first set out on his adventuring career.

Carmen briefly interrupted any further introductions, inviting everyone to eat. As he talked with the young York woman, Rezello moved to acquire some of the turkey and salmon, along with some soup. When Carmen redirected his question from Linceleste to the group as a whole, Rezello answered, "This will be my first time traveling this far east." Remembering he had yet to introduce himself, he quickly added, "Rezello Fulsteel-Ashton, knight-for-hire."

---

It was another job to Osric. Not that his employers were only another count on his resume. He didn’t have any particular ties to the church. He knew plenty of religious people, and had varying degrees of banter among them. Most were as polite as any other, but more than a few were as vile and entitled as the spoiled brat of the baron’s mistress. From what he could gather, this rescue party was not so much hastily made as was the last of the effort they were willing to put into the preparation. Besides him, Osric could tell that at least a couple of the others were there out of convenience. The fellow with the mask, and the charismatic Ludvig for example. It looked like an even split. Some were there to fill in numbers, the next third by association or publicity, and then the last third were truly associated with the church itself.

Osric couldn’t help but wonder if the people missing were as important as the job described. Osric didn’t follow the ongoing of the church, but he knew of some of the exploits it’s members accomplished in the name of their creator. So it was odd that such an important figure head was getting so little attention from the church itself. In fact, his employment came from someone working on their behalf. Then again, he really didn’t know the processes behind the scenes. There might be more going on that the church kept internal. Regardless, he was here now, and money was money. He was going to do his job to the best of his ability. It was the least he could do.

Osric welcomes the food and drink. It was quite a bit better than what he usually ate, and this was a good chance fill a plate with the good stuff. He made due out on the road, some of his former travel companions making the most out of the minuscule cooking facilities. Both delicious in their own ways. The others were introducing themselves during this time, some interrupting with recognition or inquiry. A couple of the names sounded familiar. Carnatia specifically from a sorceress traveling companion he had just before leaving for the Glory Hall. And then that of the latest fellow to speak, Rezello. If not for his mask, Osric doubted if the name Rezello would bring up any memories of that sorceress’ stories.

“I’m similar in a similar boat, my friend.” said Osric in response to Rezello’s comment about the east. “While I’ve been to a fair few places around here, I’ve not traveled to Tetragor” Osric cleared his throat, “I’m Osric Griswall. I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m not really a man of faith. But worry not, I will accomplish what is expected of me. You have my word.”

---

The place the Bishop brought her to was strange. She was never allowed too close into one of these "Temples" until now, and the place felt a little bit too dead, even compared to other human places. Probably because of all the stone. At least the pictures were pretty to look at. Why, if she looked at it sideways, that one picture looked as if the Human was but a cat, hanging onto a ledge!

"Amen."

Her attention was brought to focus by the call. the "amen". The people from this Order liked to say it, thought she still didn't understand why.

"Miss Amanaita has been supplying our communion wine for years, and the congregation likes it. The taste is unique, yet the proof is not as strong as the red wine. I told her about the mission and she seemed eager to help us, so I thought, why not?

Ah. They were talking about her. or her wine, at least. She still didn't like how it turned out,but for some reason they didn't like it when she strayed too far from the first recipe she found. Something about "Not having every priest drunk" or "giving pneunomia isn't good".

Nodding in their direction, she started hearing everyone else starting to introduce themselves. A red-haired(Good taste) human from westernat, another priest with more energy she thought was possible to have, Another human with a...strangely dangerous(but not) feel to him.

Another small human that...somehow seemed to be related to their mission, another big and broad human with a strange smell to him and a big...creature.She was unsure,but his face looked similar to some of the creatures she found in the Forest,though it seemed something happened surrounding his eye.She should ask if he needs help with it later.

As it was seemingly her turn, she introduced herself

"Amanita"

She nodded to herself, that should be more than enough.

"Everyone please dig in, it is not much, but I am sure these modest refections are enough to satisfy us all."

Ah,yes.The food,she almost forgot. Human "cuisine" was a bit strange, prioritizing flavour over most everything. It's actually one of the things that made her start experimenting with wine and beer.

She wondered why these were considered Modest, the amount was abundant and there were some things she never had seen too!

Her musing were interruped by the Red-head. If she remember correctly, her name was Carnatia.

"Pardon me, Miss Amanita? You were the one that supplied tonight's wine, I believe? They seemed to be somewhat similar to botrytized wines such as Sauternes. Were they manufactured through a similar process? I noticed that the wine grapes weren't premium grapes typically used for botrytized wines, nevertheless, the flavour was quite excellent still, if you do not mind me asking, were the grapes specially treated or were special fungi used to induce the noble rot?"

Oh. She's interested in your creation. You have to try what she's saying to do with the grapes,seems neat.

"I did not use grapes. With enough sugar,yeast and umami, i can make wine directly out of Champignon mushrooms,which is the reason for your seeming familiarity with it. It's far sweeter than most wines i have tried,and the distinct mushroom taste gets covered by the manifacturing process,while still keeping it's syrupy and sweet flavour."

Her hand moved to take some mushroom in her small fit of excitement over someone sharing her own hobby, to continue her explanation with a more pratical aid, before she remembered. Last time she did something like this, she got scolded that "she shouldn't bring rotten mushrooms in important places".She wasn't sure what an "important place" was, but this probably counted as one. Oh well, she can show her how she prepares thing when they started their journey.

He shifted to everyone else. "What about you, Friends, and Sister, have you ever been to the place where Pladin Thomas went missing?"

Tetragon... Maybe in her wanderings,before she knew about Nations, she crossed the border unknowingly,but she was unsure.

She shook her head in negative.

"I hope it's more humid than here" lately she was always in dryer places, as the Humans seemingly preferred them, and she started to miss the comfortable,thick air and the strangely sticky feeling of it.

Mirielle grinned at the redhead, lips curling in an unrestrained display of approval. Not everyone would answer the call to do the right things, especially if it was a path of thorns. The fact that a circus something - what's a carny anyway? Bird trainer? - was ready to wade into a warzone should've put a lot of self-proclaimed righteous men into shame. Unfortunate that those people also tend to have the thickest skin.

...wait, wasn't he a mage? Eh, whatever. Not important at the moment.

"Well said!" Said the zealot with a giggle, slowly sipping her wine while her free hand roamed to pick a tiny bit of every dish. Moderation in all things after all. Well, beside faith that was. "We do holy work, Ludvig! If only there's more people like you out there."

The meeting continued, though it lost its last bit of formality with the departure of the Archbishop. Mirielle listened in to the following introductions, inwardly growing increasingly confused at the seemingly random quality of the group members, yet refused to show or voice any inkling of it. There must be a reason behind it all, she only lacked the perspective to see it yet. It surely shall be revealed in time. Eventually.

"Had it really been years? Time sure flies." Her attention returned to her old friend, who hadn't seems to age a day since their last meeting. Not like she had either, both of them still at the prime of their lives, but Carmen either found a less active duty or had improved immensely in that time. New scars wasn't a strange addition to an active inquisitor, and while Mirielle was relegated away from the forefront presumably her friend hadn't strayed from his path.

He wouldn't. Perhaps the Creator had plans for him. Even she recognize that not everything can be solved with brute force. This mission of theirs was a prime example, more than a blunt instrument was needed to find and rescue Sir Thomas. Hopefully Carmen was up to the task, Mirielle's many things but a strategist wasn't one of those.

"Never stepped into foreign land myself." She said with a shrug, mashing her piece of salmon into flakes before shoving it into her soup. "I've lost count how many times I applied to go, but it seems like a highly coveted duty. Never got through even once."

“While I’ve been to a fair few places around here, I’ve not traveled to Tetragor” Osric cleared his throat, “I’m Osric Griswall. I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m not really a man of faith. But worry not, I will accomplish what is expected of me. You have my word.”

The inquisitor scratched his chin, while his other hand reached for a wine decanter to refill his cup.

"I did not use grapes.

He heard it clearly, and his hand stayed, as if unsure. Further explanation from that strange girl eased his doubt a bit, and after a long sigh, he braced himself and emptied his glass anyway.

"I trust you." said Carmen finally to the old blacksmith, raising his empty glass. "I've been to Tretagor, but not exactly in Sielse. When I was a military Colonel, conflicts between Us and Them felt like a daily routine. They weren't anything major, more like small-scale skirmishes between our border guards and whatever faction they sent to test our defense. Sometimes we didn't know who the hell we were fighting against or what they were fighting for. Sometimes when we had had enough we would dispatch a team or two into their territory, cracking down several small bases hoping they would learn their lesson. Fortunately I wasn't long enough in the military to know if that lesson stays."

He sighed again as if remembering something bitter. It was Mirielle's turn now to share her opinion

"I've lost count how many times I applied to go, but it seems like a highly coveted duty. Never got through even once."

"It is because of The Council." Carmen's expression, a bit somber just a moment ago, now changed to disgust. "They are afraid of making any significant action concerning anything related to Tretagor, and would rather urge everyone to stay their hands. It is for the good of all, they said. What a bull! How could you say it is for the good of all if you let ordinary people be murdered, their homes burned and their wives and children sold off to distant lands? Paladin Thomas was the only one who saw beyond their shortsightedness, but what do they do to award his sacrifice? They branded him as an illegal trespasser, peace breaker, and risk maker." He thumped the table and shook his head. "And worse, most of our cardinals bow down to their so-called wise recommendation!"

Carmen spared a moment to look at the entrance corridor and closed his eyes in a quick prayer. Calmer now, he smiled at Amanita and her seemingly innocent expectation.

"I hope it's more humid than here"

"Yes, it is now, dear Amanita, it should be rainy season right now in Tretagor."

@A5G@Deide@Randomness

---

Now sitting at the centermost position, Carmen had claimed a plate of soup and a baguette. His eyes darted at the blonde girl who sat next to their strange wine supplier. She had just finished introducing herself, along with some more information Carmen wasn't so sure whether she was bragging or it was just the introduction line she had rehearsed before.

"That's a lot of responsibilities, señorita York. I could only imagine how much effort it took to have you here."

Carmen leaned forward, his attention was still at Linceleste. "I am sure someone like you is very capable, but I have to ask, Senorita, have you ever been to Tretagor before?"

"I did when I was a kid. Unfortunately, it had been a long time already. So I don't remember much, Sir Friston." Linceleste politely responded to the gentleman.

After with the gentleman. Linceleste kept her aware of everyone's conversation. At that time, the conversation about the shroom girl's winemaking caught her attention. She remembered her younger self too about the potion she made. Stick with the basic potion-making. She putted it after inside the magical machinery that enhanced the potion flavor and increased its effectiveness. She wanted the consumer to savor the product without a chance of puking it.

Before joining the conversation. Linceleste helped herself get all the small portions of all the food that are available on the food except the wine. She then focused her attention on the people who were talking about the winemaking method.

"Flavoring, isn't it? I did it too with the potions." Linceleste politely said to the people who were talking about the wine focus her look to the shroom girl.

That mask has to be cursed.

Ludvig stared at the damn tall knight named Rezello, as he bit into this baguette sandwich no one seemed to notice him make. Sliced longward, fitted in with long strips of turkey meat, greens and peas. He ate so daintly but he was downing it really quick, while he thought about how the black-haired knight towered several inches above him.
Not just him, but his greatsword, too. How does he even swing that around?

Baguette sandwich gone, and so was Ludvig's train of thought. Was he craving for, what, a fight? With that hulk of a man?
Just imagining the notion came with the images of several people who'd be disappointed in him if they knew he'd been fighting again.

Carnatia's talk of exotic coffee beans introduced a different craving, and yet all he had in front of him was the cup of mushroom wine.
Need some distraction. They talk about the destination, the lands east of here. Ludvig may have been there, but it's been decades upon decades of nomadic behaviour, might be highly irrelevant. Specific locations are as much of a blur as their names, he'd be no help in navigation either.

There's a little bit of disappointment budding in him, how much he's unable to relate to these nobles and church people, with their talks of theocracy and bureaucracy and the processes of making wines. He found himself staring at Mirielle, this carefree petite amassment of sunshine, eating the soup-doused salmon. Better take inspiration from her level of nonchalant.
Ludvig took off his red-tinted glasses, vanishing them away into gods know where and revealing his blue eyes, as he reaches towards the mushroom wine. He might as well drink it now...

Carmen thumped the table, staying Ludvig's hand.

^{『 Carmen 』} "And worse, most of our cardinals bow down to their so-called wise recommendation!

Lightly clenched his hand, moved it away from the cup of mushroom wine. That had to be a sign.
There's something about this mushroom wine he just felt abject to. At least it looked like the Djinni that brewed this didn't care enough to be offended by his refusal to drink.

There was the hot soup, at least. Close enough, just imagine it's a new blend of decaf.
Ludvig sipped from a spoon as he turned to Osric. Aside from remembering his name in association to a most unique firearm, and the mercenary marksman work it enables him to do...

^{『 Ludvig 』} "Did I ever work as your apprentice at some point?"

Maybe not. Then again, he worked some days for a lot of blacksmiths.

---

“I guess with the abundance of anarchy that floods Tretagor these days, few are willing to let their citizens cross the border freely.” said Osric. He took a sip of the wine. It didn’t really matter the source, it was good and that all he needed. “Then again, I don’t suppose I’d have much reason to go there willingly were that not the case. Unless I was hired. Much like now, heh.”

Osric took a bite out of some flavored bread and a cut of meat, savoring the meal. He listened to Carmen complain about the state of the mission and the process it took just to get to this point. He guessed right, at least partially. He knew that resources were deliberately limited because there was no effort made towards the rescue by any of the people in charge of the church. What was new was the reasons behind that decision. But Tretagor seemed to be a sore subject to the point of almost pretending it didn’t exist. At least for some there was enough of a push back to form the party they had now. Odds are once they cross the border, they’d be cut off as much as Paladin Thomas was. They would be on their own.

Osric turned to face Ludvig, looking at his face and features, trying to remember if he knew him. Though with the way he’d dress, it was hard to tell if someone would work under him in nice clothing. Or he just dressed up nice because of the church, which Osric now realized didn’t. He was at least clean even if his clothes looked like they were working a fire for the last five hours. Then he paused his thoughts. While he did work as a blacksmith for most of his life, he had almost entirely stepped away from a smithy for the last couple decades. Was his name still known among the smithing community? Besides his firearm, he didn’t think he smithing skills had earned him much renown.

“Hmm, it’s hard to say. If you’ve stepped outside Helvetia, then maybe. I’ve been outside its borders long before I started accepting apprentices at my smithy.” said Osric. Might as well confirm it. It’s not like him being a smith was a secret, nor was it like he never stepped foot inside one since leaving. “At that time, my specialty was wide. If it needed a fire and hammer, I worked on it. Heck, I worked on a fair number of custom jewelry pieces. Most of my former apprentices didn’t stick around long enough to learn the other half of the business. I was lucky that a couple stayed long enough to take over my old smithy when I left. So forgive me if I don’t remember you.”

---

"I did not use grapes. With enough sugar,yeast and umami, i can make wine directly out of Champignon mushrooms,which is the reason for your seeming familiarity with it. It's far sweeter than most wines i have tried,and the distinct mushroom taste gets covered by the manifacturing process,while still keeping it's syrupy and sweet flavour."

"No grapes...?"

Cultivation of premium wine grapes were one of the main things that drive up production cost for wines. If she was able to make wine of such quality without grapes...well, making it strictly from mushroom was a bit too out there for it to be marketable, people wanted something 'authentic' after all, but if she could bring out the flavour to this extent without premium grapes, then it would be possible to manufacture botrytised wines of high enough quality without using the premium grapes, thus allowing the wine to be competitive in prices especially for low to middle-income consumers, which was a market segment hitherto untouched by botrytised wines because of its high price due to production cost. That was not to count the possibility that since this much flavour had been brought out without the premium grapes if she were using the premium grapes, the flavour of the wine might be even richer, which would be a competitive advantage even for higher-income consumers.

"Miss Amanita, I find myself intrigued by these wines you manufactured. I think they would make for a promising business venture in Westernant. As you may have heard, I own a Barony in Westernant. After this expedition is over, I would be delighted to welcome you to my land and be your patron, if you are interested."

Leaving Amanita with the proposition, Carnatia excused herself with a small curtsy before mingling with the rest of the room's occupants.

"It is because of The Council." Carmen's expression, a bit somber just a moment ago, now changed to disgust. "They are afraid of making any significant action concerning anything related to Tretagor, and would rather urge everyone to stay their hands. It is for the good of all, they said. What a bull! How could you say it is for the good of all if you let ordinary people be murdered, their homes burned and their wives and children sold off to distant lands? Paladin Thomas was the only one who saw beyond their shortsightedness, but what do they do to award his sacrifice? They branded him as an illegal trespasser, peace breaker, and risk maker." He thumped the table and shook his head. "And worse, most of our cardinals bow down to their so-called wise recommendation!"

Carnatia chimed in, "Well...to give the Council the benefit of the doubt, International Politics are rarely that black and white. Being a remnant of a once mighty empire, Tretagor's provinces that are now fighting among themselves are prime target for their neighbouring nations to absorb as part of their own territory. I presume their reasons for preventing interventions from other nations is to avoid circumstances such as the one we now face with Paladin Thomas and his entourage. If it turns out that the cause of Paladin Thomas' disappearance is the local of Sielse, in the worst-case scenario, it would be held against the local authorities to make them culpable, in the worst case depending how involved they are, it could be casus belli to declare war on the local authorities of Sielse.

It's definitely something Carnatia could see Westernant do. Of course, at first, Westernant would try the diplomatic approach of sending troops in from Dragon's Maw as a peacekeeping troop. But should the local authorities reject the proposal, she imagined that Westernant would declare the local authorities in Sielse to be despot and send their troops to 'liberate the people of Sielse from their despot rulers'.

She continues, "Of course, if say, Westernant were to do that, Helvetia would not simply stay put and allow Westernant to expand our sphere of influence by annexing Sielse and thus the conflict will turn into a proxy war with Helvetia backing the local authorities, which could potentially lead to a larger war breaking out in the future. Which is why I do agree that rather than preventing any interventions whatsoever, the Council should have declared Tretagor a failed state and facilitated multilateral talks among the nations as to how its provinces ought to be distributed as protectorates among the other nations under the supervision of the Council. It is not ideal, of course, but pragmatically speaking taking into account the realpolitik tendencies of the nations, that is the best-case scenario for all. It would return order to Tretagor and prevented the rest of the nations from fighting each other in open conflict for Tretagor provinces."

It would, of course, be a bitter pill to swallow for the rulers of Tretagor, especially those who seek to uphold the monarchy. But in Carnatia's opinion, those who were charged to rule had the obligations to do what was best for their people, and sometimes that meant swallowing their pride and knowing when to capitulate and bend the knee, pursuing diplomatic avenues to keep their autonomy as much as possible.

@Mas Bagus@Deide

"I only understand one thing, and I agree with you." The Inquisitor said categorically. "I see nothing wrong with taking Sielse as one of the protectorates. It is a noble cause to share our prosperity with those who are unfortunate, wherever they are. To bring back the order as you said, and order brings peace and opportunity and prosperity. We had a good system, where things worked wonderfully, but sadly we live in a time of deceit and cowardice. Small things, but the right things, that's the best we lower rankers can do, at least it is better than lamenting the incompetence of those above us while sitting in an amrchair."

For a moment he did not look at Carnathia, as if averting his gaze from a bad memory, and the words he said were nothing but a self-consolation. He then continued.

"You brought an interesting perspective there, Baronesa De Valmot. Seeing Helvetia break free from its thousand years of neutrality would be a novel sight. But if that happens, they are the least of my worries compared to the elves, who incessantly scheming behind their mask of nonchalance."

Pausing again to realize that he was in fact in Helvetia, and there were Herlvetians in this very hall, he continued in a more relaxed tone, now avoiding the subject entirely.

"Well, I hope you are as tired as I am talking about high politics. Not that I really care about it, despite being a noble myself, my only desire was just to help people."

@Randomguy

He shrugged while sipping more of this soup, then replied to Osric.

^{『 Ludvig 』} "It's all good. I aim to forget and be forgotten. It's the key to keep experiencing new things."

If he had a much better memory, he was sure that at some point living this long would become highly repetitive, and he'd sooner wish for death or marriage, whichever came first.
Maybe settling in with a family at this point was a good idea... No, he's definitely had that thought a multitude of times before. It'll always be a good idea. All the more reason to never do it.
Although, if he were to do it...

A glance at Mirielle. A smile if she glances back.
He seems to have made frankly too good of an impression on her. Is a relationship worth pursuing? Wouldn't it distract from her religious duties?

The simultaneous conversation felt like it was between a realist and an optimist. He almost found himself agreeing more with Carmen, were it not for the touting of this 'system' that would nobly share their prosperity with seemingly whoever they deemed 'unfortunate'. He was sure that Carmen meant well, yet it also sounded possibly unintendedly too arrogant or braggadocious. Maybe.
The jab at elves, too... Knowing what he knew, he wondered if Carmen had a specific elf in mind. Would it be a problem if this troupe's chain of command weren't on cordial terms?
Maybe Ludvig was just overthinking it.
It would feel so confrontational if he said his thoughts now... He held it in.

It shouldn't dock a lot of points from Carmen's scale of attractiveness, especially with pure-hearted desires like those. Assuming they're not just lip service.
A side-eye while sipping his third and last spoonful of soup.

"Hear, hear!" Mirielle didn't understand half of the conversations going on the table, but she could get Carmen and what he'd been so passionate about. Creator knew the world needed less grandstanding and more direct actions, yet it's as if everyone who ended up in a position of power agreed to grandstand in a massive genital-measuring contest instead of doing anything helpful. "We could use less politicians. How important could they be anyway?"

As if she hadn't just said something completely irresponsible, the ex-inquisitor resumed attacking her meal as if she's picturing a pile of politicians piled at her mercy under the fork. Feeling the stare again, yellow eyes flickered to the redhead circus man... what was his name again? Oh beans. Let's hope someone mention it soon.

Why's he staring though? She hadn't said anything overly interesting, had she?

He smiled. Mirielle paused, swallowed, and smiled back all businesslike. Ah, must've been a polite lad. Moments like this was the entire reason she spent more time than she liked to admit to make a "normal" smile. Whatever that meant. The others didn't elaborate much back then.

"The elves act at a pace that would make moss growing looks speedy. Perhaps it's their lifespan, but they cannot move with the same urgency we do." Back to Carmen, she quipped with undisguised annoyance at their long-eared neighbors. That particular people had always been a source of mixed feelings. On one hand their origin was most noble, yet on the other hand they always felt rather... out of place. Always half-measures on all things despite being able to do more. "We'll finish what we strive out to, leave what comes after for the future."

That long speech (for Mirielle standard) done, she nonchalantly leaned back and sipped on her wine. Maybe it's getting to her? She's being more talkative than usual today.