Role

Chapter 6

Inglor stood patiently awaiting his audience with his reknown kinsman, and king, the
famed Feanon Arelenar. Highly aware of the honor audience was for such a minor member of
the household, royal kin or no, he felt a keen sense of anxious nervousness...much like
his first meeting with Lord Marcatis.

Beckoned finally to approach, he took a knee before the true elven high king, and spoke
the ritualised words of fealty and service. His king regarded him quietly a moment, his
characteristic grey Arelenar eyes seeming to weight and judge him before he nodded
recognition, signaling Inglor should rise, and like a thrust got directly to business.
"You are now of age, young Arelenar. How will you serve the House?"
"I will enlist in the Spire, Sire" Inglor replied, carefull to keep his voice calm. "This
duty is pleasing to me on many levels, as it also..."
The king raised a hand, causing Inglor to fall silent, "Do not dishonor the House. Serve
as son of the Arelenar should, and return to me when you have gained position to
advance our cause."
Feanon gave another hand jesture, this time an obvious dismissal. Inglor bow again, before
walking from his mortal lords court.