OOC March 1st, 976 The halls of Lingerhold were bathed in festivity and merriment. Jovial voices were lost to the greater chorus of indistinguishable conversations that filled the expansive room. The architecture was simple, obviously favouring practicality over elaborate design, but the hall was an impressive sight nonetheless. The gray stone walls were lined with iron braziers that blazed merrily as they fought back the evening chill. A greater, heavily wrought brazier burned brightly in the centre of the room, casting flickering light over the crowds. Several long, wooden tables stretched the length of the hall. They were burdened with a vast assortment of food that was laid out on fine plates and platters, filling the air with a tantalizing smell of cooked meats and spices. Decorative garland had been placed along each table, wound between the trays and candles, while tankards sat ready near barrels of ale, along with decanters of wine and mead. Other beverages, more potent in nature, dotted the tables in various bottles. Perpendicular to the longer tables was a single, smaller table, situated on an elevated step at the back of the room and opposite the main doors. It had seven chairs, all of which looked out over the goings on. This was, clearly, the table for individuals of high rank and it was here, in the center seat, that the King sat as he watched his Wardens. King Akard was a man who looked the part of a hero from some legend. He was a tall man, finely built with broad shoulders and a trim frame. His features were handsome and well-formed and his eyes were the colour of steel, calm as he watched the scene before him. His hair was a shade of pale blond, kept at shoulder length and accented by a simple golden circlet which sat atop his head. His clothes were finer than that of the common man, but far from the display of splendor and prestige his titled boasted. Akard wore a content and thoughtful expression that melted into an easy smile as he conversed. To the King’s right was Warden Commander Jautice Grace and his brother, Lord Royland Grace, as well as a single empty chair on the end. To Akard’s left sat his uncle and aunt, Prince Segard and Princess Adaia. The final seat was taken by his younger cousin, Higard. Behind the King and several paces back were two of his personal guard standing still as stone. A casual glance in their direction might leave one thinking them armoured statues. The King’s Wardens filled the hall, the hundreds having settled into various places throughout the room. Some of the Wardens had gone straight for the tables and food, keeping to themselves while others lingered along the walls and arches, chatting with their comrades or observing the scene. It was a sight to behold, seeing them all together. The King knew the numbers-- he knew them well-- but it was a different matter to see them all in a single place, to see how the force had grown. And yet, they still weren’t all here. He wouldn’t hold the announcement if stragglers persisted to be absent, even as the evening drew to an end. In the meantime, the delay would provide a good opportunity for the Wardens to socialize among each other, as was encouraged in the initial summons.