Spring 1290 journey to Europe

From the air the covenant looks like a small fishing village, in fact an extremely quaint fishing village, though there is a singular dock which can clearly handle larger long distance ships.

Plasmatoris nods cheerfully to Aban and smiles. "Ah, I'm not trying to pry into their affairs, of course. When I was but an apprentice, I remember my parens always had the juicy gossip after the Mercere visited - it irritated me to no end, of course, I was trying to focus on my work and he kept talking. I suppose it is ill of me to dig for rumors from you right on their doorstep."

As Plasmatoris talks, he idly fiddles with the small case on his belt containing his paintbrush, but doesn't pull it out.

The covenant is known to be predominant Merinita and Mercere, with Jerbiton having a respectable showing as well. It was originally planned to e a Theban covenant with a faerie acting as their patron, until the Theban tribunal was disbanded and they were reassigned to the Levant. Since they had no designated purpose this actually accelerated their application or membership, with the only remaining hurtle at the time being the demonstration of religious neutrality which the Levant came to require. They have been recognized for nearly 50 years now.

Aetherius flies eagerly along the saucer towards the covenant, and will find a discreet place to land and return to human form not too far from the village, but outside of sight of possible mundanes that may or may not be covenfolk.

Aban follows Aetherius' lead and lands the saucer a bit off from the village.

He marks and notes the spot and conceals the saucer with his ring before they depart.

The group approaches the village and find themselves accosted by a gnome, "State your business!"

Seeing the gnome, Aetherius feels that's magical enough to classify as covenfolk

"I'm Aetherius ex Mercere. We're from the Order, here to request hospitality from the Heydar forest covenant. Would you be so kind as to direct us or escort us to our sodales?"

"Well," the gnome removes his cap to scratch his head, "your soldales will probably be perfectly willing to welcome you, but the contract with her highness only gives them discretion over visitors who arrive by the docks. Which means you will need to come and get the queen's blessing first."

Plasmatoris watches the little gnome with a strange curious look on his face, studying him, listening, but not quite speaking yet.

((@silveroak What language is the gnome speaking in?))

The gnome is speaking Latin.

"We could just land on the docks instead, hmm?" Aban suggests to the others.

Aetherius nods. "No need to trespass if we're not supposed to." He thanks the gnome and heads for the saucer.

Aban leaves the saucer hovering a bit above the dock.

"Nope, nope, nope" the gnome replies "You have set foot upon the Queen's domain, you must come now to see her!" there is rustling in the bushes behind you suggesting hidden forces, in the mundane, not arcane sense.

Aban eyes at the magi.

"What do you want to do?"

"We have not reason to believe that the Queen is hostile yet. Does anyone know this Queen?"

"Which kind of Queen is she ? And why not just let us move and leave your territory ? We are just travellers who fail on their road and we don't want have any problem with you, or with a Queen or anyone else. Just rest a little before move again."

Tastheus just tries to take time.

"I can assure you that Queen Artemis will not simply allow you to walk away as if you had not trod upon her lands, I would suggest you come with me at once to present yourselves as men of noble intention rather than cads and scoundrels."

Plasmatoris frowns at the situation, tapping his fingers thoughtfully against his opposite elbow. He certainly isn't a socially adept being, but this situation was rapidly becoming troublesome.

"We have noble intention, good sir," he says, mind raking through a few ideas and possibilities, memories of classical literature which was completely useless in this situation. "But our austere assembly has had some unfortunate times as of late, and we are off-course. This ill-fortune has led us here, and without adequate information on your Queen's domain." He scratches at his chin, squinting towards the horizon as he tries to channel the easy distracting manner of his old Master, his parens.
"Please do allow us a few moments to rest and assemble ourselves, as we would not want to stumble haggardly into the presence of so elite a lady in our worst of states."

Then, in a lower voice, he says to the other magi, low enough only those closest likely hear, "I can definitely see why my Parens taught to avoid adventure at all cost."

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"Most certainly, it is always appropriate to present yourself in the best possible state to her majesty. This way." He leads the group to what looks to be a cottage, until you go inside and find the inside to be palatial in dimensions and presentation, though the decorations look rather like those of a hunting lodge. He shows you to a room where you can wash up and otherwise collect yourselves. "The queen will see you in half an hour."