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[Haspen]

"You could always absorb Exsten and Osngaria into Durhiel! One is led into doom by a madman and other is already in ruin. If you help them both, they should at least express their gratitude and accept you as their Queen afterwards."

[Powder Miner]

Jago called out in Diana's direction.
:"I, uh, I kind of managed to zap myself."

[SeriousConcentrate]

Diana looked over toward Jago.

"I see. Well, at least you're still alive."

He could probably do a good enough job recriminating himself for getting hurt unnecessarily. She turned back to Oscar.

"If that's the way of it, I would rather allow Wilfort to expand Ulfijan into Osngaria. I don't want Durhiel to get too big; it might encourage a future descendant of mine to try to expand, when all I want is peace for my people. Admittedly, during this journey I did have thoughts of taking the entire continent and making it all Durhiel, to ensure peace... but I don't believe that would work, and more likely it would just result in civil war for years."

[Haspen]

"If not Ursa, I would urge you to marry that brat so you could assert dominance over Ulfijan, Durhiel, Exsten and Osngaria. And then Worus would just kinda fall under your thumb. But that sounds more like some scripted drama of some higher being, rather than life."

"However rest assured; Oscar 'Wretched' Vulden will certainly stand at your side and punish those who stand against you as long as my life allows it." Oscar suddenly looked around, saw that nobody was looking at this precise moment, and stood up, only to place - steal! - a kiss from Diana's cheek.

"Princess... I think I should go hunt some more animals given Jago found none?"

[SeriousConcentrate]

Diana blinked. She felt she ought to upbraid Oscar for taking liberties about her person, lest he grow more bold, but she instead settled for letting him get away with it just this once.

"For one, Wilfort is much too young for me. I'd rather not wait years for him to reach an appropriate age. For another, if I weren't the only remaining heir of Durhiel then it would likely be a decent match, but the problem is our heroic ancestor's blood is passed down father to son. It's strong enough that were I to have the child of a... regular person, they would be born with Durhiel's traits. But any child of Wilfort's will be a child of Ulfijan; marrying him would, in many respects, end the line of Durhiel. So, no, it's not really possible."

At least, that's how Diana understood heredity. It's possible she was wrong.

"Anyway, yes, good idea. Just don't be hunting bears."

She gave him a look that said everything.

[Haspen]

"Don't worry, I will leave yours alone." And with that, he bowed and walked to his horse. Few moments later he was away.

[Blade Master Model 42]

Wilfort finally managed to reach Ceil. "Jago managed to hit himself with his own spell- You should probably heal him."

[CrimsonEon]

: "He what?!"
Ceil's cloak whipped as she immediately strode in the direction of the scream earlier, staff stamping the ground with every other step she took.
: "Sir Jago, hold still. Let me take a look." She shouted as Jago and Anita came into view.

[Xanmyral]

Enoch nodded at Brann, leaving the topic at that. When the swordsman continued, the mage continued the silence, watching the man carefully from behind his hood. There was a few moments of silence as the man seemed to debate the topic, his prior carving now long forgotten and stowed away in his robes. With an ease of movement, the mage dropped out of the tree and landed on his feet, before moving closer to discuss the apparently clandestine topic.

Speaking in a low enough tone so as not to be overheard by those nearby, Enoch finally spoke. "Yes. I will speak on the subject, for you I respect. In the crosses of the road, I make my abode, where naught but trees and the breeze, there I do as I please." The man spoke in laconic riddle. "I am not from the ways of man, Brann, but from such I did began. Any question, this session?" The man asked the swordsman, waiting.

[Powder Miner]

Jago had visibly shocked himself quite severely; he looked to be stable, but lightning-patterned burns had gone across his right arm and torso.
He grinned nervously.

[Swordstar]

"I..."

Brann stared at the other man in shock for a few seconds before slowly continuing.

"Are... Are you saying you're a fa... one of the Fair Folk?"

He'd heard stories about them all his life, but hadn't really ever believed they truly existed, though he supposed if dragons could exist, why not the fae? But to meet one of them...

[CrimsonEon]

Ceil sighed as she looked Jago over, and with a couple flashes of her staff, the heavier burns receded in bulk, leaving reddened skin behind.
: "Magic is not a toy, Sir Jago. You're lucky the burns didn't cross your heart."

[Xanmyral]

The man thought for a moment, but seeing little need (or care) to be evasive, simply nodded at the swordsman. Enoch never figured himself for a careful man in the regards as to his secret, but he supposes he must be doing something right if its taken this long for others to guess.

"Low in the line, not as fine, but of such I enshrine." The mage replied, watching the man closely from beneath his hood. He must admit curiosity as to how this will play out. "If you truly wish to repay your debt, then do not let the others fret or be beset as to this."

"The metal, the ways my words settle, such all easily sets in the kettle, no?" The man toothily joked, admitting he's taking a bit of amusement in the reaction.

[Swordstar]

"I... I suppose it makes sense. As you say, everything fits once I knew but... I suppose I just always viewed them as children tales. Nothing to be believed... And of course I will keep your secret. It is not mine to give. I am honored that you would trust me with it and would not want to betray that trust."

He chuckled somewhat nervously.

"Heh... I suppose I got away easy, huh? All the stories say that being in debt to one of your kind never ends well for one of my kind..."

[Xanmyral]

Enoch merely kept up the pointed grin as Brann talked on, widening slightly at the last remark in amusement. "Wise, this was not always my guise." The man left the odd comment at that, not leaving room for a response as he immediately continued.

"But such is how we prefer, a delicate touch. But I must defer, I am not here merely to be a blur, I am more here to help and watch the stir. There are eyes on Diana, far more than those from the skies and what we apprise, whose goals not I know the roles. I am but a pawn, still a fawn."