the baffled king composing hallelujah
It had been a few days; long enough for Ronin to get over himself and (he hoped) for his co-rulers to do the same. The invites had been sent - sunset (for Wessex's benefit) at the Temple, a neutral place where the walls didn't have eyes and the floors weren't likely trapped. He had scoured the Notice Board and had seen the amendments made to military service - a damned good start. But there were other things Zariah had decreed. Not only that, they ought to figure out, like... how they were going to go at this rulership thing. Councils, cabinets, advisors, who was responsible for what and so on.
So Ronin had seated himself at a large table at the back of the Temple, one lit with candles and lanterns and dominated by the large map of the Hollowed Grounds he had brought. Its usual place was hanging on the wall of the guildhall, and it had suffered a few amendments and additions since he'd hung it up. But it might help. Who knew? Who knew anything at all, these days?
So Ronin had seated himself at a large table at the back of the Temple, one lit with candles and lanterns and dominated by the large map of the Hollowed Grounds he had brought. Its usual place was hanging on the wall of the guildhall, and it had suffered a few amendments and additions since he'd hung it up. But it might help. Who knew? Who knew anything at all, these days?
