Knights of Tezoth

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Ple-Sen
Having finished with her expenditures, the Tarnarsian decided to pay a visit to Lyrica Cartridge, wherever she might currently be. If anyone possessed the skills capable of bringing the next part of Alaria's plan to life, it was her.
Lyrica was busy tending to her own nails in her own chambers — perhaps she and Adata and Rezara could have found common ground, had the opportunity presented itself.
- War is war, but beauty is on schedule. - She explained once the guest was inside.

At times Alaria wondered what verdict the icon of modern Tezoth fashion would have rendered on the contest of elegance held several months prior. What she would have thought of the victors. What of the losers. What conclusions she would have drawn about the trends of the new age. Alas, the art of photography — something that would surely have appealed to the young Lady Cartridge — had not yet taken root in Tezoth and, in light of Margel's sad fate, would not do so for some time yet.

The composure Lyrica was currently displaying, in view of the coming conflicts, Catharsis considered a good sign. It would not do for the light of the Silverdane knight, the future heiress, and simply one whose visage other residents of the region found inspiring, to give in to panic. And she was not giving in, following her clearly set priorities. One would like to think she would maintain this equanimity in the future as well, when the flames of war burn stronger than before.

— Undoubtedly, — smiling, the Tarnarsian nodded at her interlocutor's words, — and I have no intention of tearing you away or hindering your procedures. Would there be a window in your schedule for a rather time-consuming project, my lady?

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