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Prologue to chapter 1 of the Long Nights

Village of Ravenne of Lycia, close to the Etrurian border
In the year of 1366 AS (After the Scouring) and year of 367 AZ (After Zephiel)

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The sounds of children's laughter echoed through the central park of the village of Ravenne. The streets were bustling with life, carts carrying merchandice travelling up and down while the merchants' loud voices attempted to catch the attention of any a traveler. A delicate scent of freshly cooked pork, freshly baked pastry and day-old fish left their shops and blended into a inviting and delighting aroma surrounding the food corners of the town forum. And all of this was blessed with a wonderful, cloud-free sky that covered the hamlet with light and gentle Autumn heat.

The town counsel however was hard at work with discussions, completely ignoring the Autumn equinox celebrations. The room with the long, oval table was filled with tension and a foul scent of unwashed bodies, and the heavy atmosphere was so thick one could touch it. One of the counselmen even seemed to be strangled by the tension, his eyes red and bloodspilled as if grasping for air while hanging from a thick rope. 

"Sir Courten, focus! We've not come to a conclusion yet! Acting on this is all too great a risk, I feel! But.. I will abide by the democratic choice nonetheless." The counselman at the edge of the table groaned out while reading through the piece of parchment in front of him for the 150th time atleast. And then he looked onto the others again, nodding to a raised arm, "Yes, Williams?"

"While I agree it is far too great a risk, I still.. I still feel we should accept. True, we are far away, and true, going through with it would leave us surrounded and strangled for options. I fear that as much as the next man. But... It seems like a serene request.." counselman Williams spoke, his eyes sullenly and shyly going to the floor afterwards. The young man did however note the mumbling around the table with some satisfaction, the feeling of acceptance to his final request seemed a positive one.

And then the head counselman nodded again before slamming his knotted fist to the table with great power, "Then we vote!"
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GROAN! Ellynorah's displeasure at her task was truly visible at her gentle features, and her sounds as well, yet she could not escape them. That would upset her mother greatly, and she was not in mood to do that. If only she didn't have to bring that big, dumb nobleman with her. Her eyes moved to peer onto the retainer by her side, her gaze petrifying like Medusa's or venomous like the Venom Drakes of legend. Her expression held more malice than the legendary Zephiel held for humankin, more madness than that of the rumoured Nergal. Yet he seemed unphased aside from an uncomfortable smile. GROAN!

"Pray tell, why does a Princess like myself have to suffer through your boring, uninteresting and annoying presence? Answer this instant, knave! She'd stopped her walk in this God forsaken Lycian village, and instead turned about to peer onto him, her torso beckoned slightly forward with an arm pointing at him. Yet the retainer could only rub his chin before eventually shrug, That is a mystery to me as well, Your Highness. I have to ask for your forgiveness as well, for I cannot figure it out. Phillipe bowed courteously while the young princess turned to continue walkig, her nose held high. The retainer grimaced at her utter lack of respect for him, the Mage General of Etruria! Accursed royalty.
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