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It took nearly an hour before they reached their destination. A large, low marble structure on the opposite side of town from the catacombs. The Palace ofa Ice it seems. Guards hopping out as the carts stopped, helping the group out as needed. Yoren, the feathered raptor guard, took Graf's hand and helped him down. He flashed a smile, holding that hand before giving the dragonborn's hand a squeeze. Offering his silent support. Then the barest of nods before joining the other guards.

Graf took a slow breath and straighten his coat, taking a look over the rest of the party. Pickle, Grig, Corrine, Jynx, Rajan, and Amber, all of them looking a little worse for wear.

The Lord Steward took a step forward, looked at each of them in turn, then started off. "This way." Each falling into step behind the older dragonborn. Steps echoing back all about them as they were lead into a circular room. Despite his advanced age, the Lord Steward's stride was quick. Sharp steps taking him to an alter that stood opposite the door.

He spun dramatically and stared down his muzzle at the ground, "Graffion." His voice booming in the still hall.

"Yes?" Graf's voice felt somewhat meek, unsure, by comparison. But it had been a long day and he was on his dregs. That was his excuse and he was sticking to it.

"If that's your true name," Karuth spread his arms in a grand, sweeping gesture. "Step forward," he brought his hand down to point, "into the center." Gaze boring into the younger dragonborn as Graf crossed the room. Back straight and steps as sure as they could be. Not stopping until he was standing in the center of a large, circular mosaic. Karuth nodded, "The rest of you, join him." He waved, "Arrange yourself alongside him."

Pickle was the first. The kobold monk's light steps bringing her almost immediately to Graf's side. Rajan fencing the dragonborn in. Grig and the others loosely behind him.

"Grig," Corrine's voice was just loud enough to hear. "Where'd you leave the body?"

"In the cart," the bear tried to be as quiet as possible.

Pickle glanced over a shoulder, "Could've brought it, said it was your spell focus." Her grin as easy as always as she tried to break the palpable tension. Graf almost too nervous to smile at the thought of Grig carting about that desiccated hiveling corpse.

Seeming oblivious to the chatter Karuth began, "A true king requires many things. He requires strength alongside him." The snap of his fingers cracked in the stillness. Two guards falling into place on either side of the altar. Offering deep bows before straightening. Karuth's gaze locked with Graf, denying him the right to look away. "You must answer me this. In my experience, a ruler needs three things. Serenity. Courage. Wisdom." Both hands came down on the altar as he leaned forward, "My question to you, Graffion DeLuc." There was something in his voice that set Graf's scales on end. "The serenity, the courage, the wisdom to do what?"

In an instant the guards' faces hardened. The butts of their spears banging off the smooth floor before dropping into a ready posture.

Rajan was in motion instantly. Blade hissing from its scabbard as he leapt forward. Light flashing of the blade as he whirled. Knocking the spear aside before slamming into the guard with enough force to send the guard skidding back several feet. Expression never changing beyond a lifted brow and the barest of nods.

Pickle left as well, though her pace was more casual. Steps light as she walked to the other guard, flashed a smile, and wiggled her fingers in a challenging motion.

A thrum echoed from the room, a dwarf seemingly appearing out of nowhere. Graf only just registering him before an arrow slammed into the dragonborn's side. Martigan's voice called to him from a memory, "Only hurts as much as you allow, Kid." It didn't hurt, it didn't hurt, came the silent chant. Graf nodding towards the guard, not letting his gaze leave Karuth's yet. That.. Was it even a question? What answer could he give that would work?

"Graffion," the voice boomed out, "Answer me."

Jynx's voice lifted from behind, "Do you have any orders, Your Majesty?" followed by a dull whumf as he cast a spell.

"I get to use my armor melty thing!" Amber cried out happily. The dwarven artificer barreling towards the guard Pickle had squared off with. A slender sword flashing in her grip as she blindly jabbed at the soldier.

Grig's shoulder bumped Graf's as the larger bare moved in front of him, "We must protect our royal highness!" While he greatly appreciated the bodyguard, they were going to have a talk about titles. Grig's armored fist slammed into his shield with a resounding BANG. Light exploding from the cleric, filling the area about them with whispering sounds and the scent of the deepest forests.

That heavy plate hadn't stopped rattling before a figure bolted from behind a pillar. The glint of daggers alerting Graffion an instant before they were tearing into his fine clothes. Graf hissed in surprise as the blades skipped off his belly scales, jerking away from the guard. The guard dropping back to ready himself before wincing as the cleric's light seared at his exposed flesh.

He wasn't alone in his assault. Another bowman stepping out from behind a pillar. Arrow whistling through to strike Graf's chest with enough force to crack a rib.

The dragonborn's eyes narrowing ever so slightly as he tried to keep that stoic outside. Was this what Karuth was wanting? His eyes darted about that unreadable face. The Lord Steward might as well have been carved from solid marble for all the expression he had.

Graffion's focus narrowed to the Lord Steward, silently screaming and wondering what he wanted. Their eyes locked, not even blinking as flames erupted between them. Called upon by Corrine as the druid tried to drive the guards back. All the dragonborn could focus on was the other. Teeth grinding as frustration built, each breath agony as ribs were pulled taut.

He didn't realize he even had the Conduit in his hand. Just felt that icy rage surging through his arm to explode from the tip of the item. Silvery light connecting the two for an instant.

Karuth's teeth ground as the frost spread across his shoulder. "Answer me, Graffion." Voice booming over the sound of combat. "Serenity, courage, wisdom to do what?"

Graf wanted to scream at him, how should he know what he needed those for? Ten years of pretending to be a noble had earned him many nights in countless noble households. He had hunted, been entertained, journeyed, but never ruled. All the countless times he'd been invited to court and he'd never once paid attention. It was just a bunch of people making requests or having an audience. He usually had something, or someone, far more interesting to do during those sessions.

Could that be the answer? Admitting that he didn't know what the answer was? Asking Karuth for help? One of his party members? He didn't know. There was no way for Graffion DeLuc, false noble, to know. Chin quaking as that cracked mask began to fail.

Breath was coming in short gasps, each one bringing a searing pain with it. He was so wrapped in himself that he barely registered a spear as it flew past, mere inches from his head.

A memory draped over him. Soft arms wrapped about weary shoulders and pulling the dragonborn into the warm embrace, leaving the crumbling visage of Graffion behind until there was only Magpie. The floral scent of spiced citrus filling their senses and drawing the dragonborn deeper into the memory.

Her soft, soulful voice whispered a song into an ear, "Where uncertainty rules my way, It's easy to go astray, I got to keep strong and bold." The memory of Magpie's mother cradled the dragonborn protectively. "Give me a way to accept things," the voice filled Magpie's ears as lips the frill with each croon. "I cannot change anymore. The courage to change anymore." A gentle kiss was planted on a temple, "In the midst of the darkness, There's a voice, That you know so well, Lifts you up from the madness, Where you dwell." Arms coiled tighter as that remembered warmth pressed to a cheek, "Don't give into the hopelessness, Keep the innocent in your heart."

Another arrow slammed into the dragonborn, ripping Magpie from the memory and driving them back. Karuth's eyes blazing as he stared the other down, "Answer me, Graffion."

Graf was wheezing now, confused, and hurting pretty bad. Each breath was a monumental task that made him sway on his feet. Skin tingling as Jynx unleashed a lightning bolt, but even that barely registered. A wild wave from Amber drawing his attention for a moment as she shouted something before darting away.

His gaze drifted about the room. Most of the party had pressed close to him, trying to physically keep the soldiers from getting at him. Jynx and Amber to one side. Rajan and Grig on the other. He caught the briefest glimpse of Pickle as she darted behind a pillar in pursuit of an archer. An archer which quickly loosed an arrow before he was set upon by a screeching kobold.

PAIN! The arrow hit true, striking that same damned rib and breaking it. Graf's legs shaking as the wind was well and truly knocked out of him. Knees shaking as he sank against Grig's broad back.

Corrine was there, hands waving as the squirrel chittered something. Fires sputtering out as her attention shifted. Wind whipping about the group as she tried to enclose them, protecting from arrows as best she could. Karuth lifted his hand in a familiar manner. Energies gathering about him. The winds sputtering before Jynx lifted a hand and snarled something. Canceling out whatever Karuth had been doing.

Graf felt strangely detached as he looked at the others. What where they doing? They were working so desperately to defend him. Why? What was in it for them? They could readily focus on the guards, but they were doing all they could to keep him on his feet. Head was reeling as the dragonborn swayed, feeling something click within.

"GIVE ME SERENITY!" Magpie bellowed over the chaos of battle. Holding onto Grig's shoulder, the dragonborn locked eyes with the Steward. "The serenity to accept that which cannot be changed." With these compan... friends. Yes, friends. With them at Magpie's side, the dragonborn could face anything.

Teeth grinding and legs shook as the dragonborn pulled themselves upright. Graffion falling back into place as head lifted. Eyes narrowing smugly as he looked down his nose as Karuth, "For I have the courage to change those things which I can." With his friends at his side, no one stood a chance. Chin quivering briefly a the realization that, for the first time in his life, he had friends. People that could be trusted with the deepest of secrets and hurts. People to laugh with, cry with, love with, and trust to have his back because he had theirs in return.

Putting the Conduit away, he took a shallow breath. "And the wisdom to know the difference." A lifetime of mistakes trailed behind him. Probably more than his fair share of learning experiences. Still he found himself stepping into things that he probably shouldn't. But there was the group to pull him back before he did anything stupid. People whose opinions he could ask and then, as a group, decide what was best. Hopefully whatever was opposite what Amber wanted to do.

Graffion took another step and held both arms out, "I trust that is sufficient?"

Karuth snapped his fingers, guards moving to stand beside the table. Forming a line on either side of the group. The Steward nodded, "That is a good answer. I see in your eyes. I see your honesty. I have another question before we bring these trials to an end." No more arrows please. "This is much a... "He hesitated a moment, "Much less a question with a concrete answer, but tell me. What do you think is the most important step any man can take?"

"The first one."

He seemed to ponder that a moment before nodding, "There is... a better one." Eyes locked again, "Think, Graffion." Graf held onto his side, wheezing as he tried to think. Surprisingly hard when a rib was poking at his gut. "It is a good answer. But. In my experience, it not simply the first one." He moved around the alter. "It is the next one. And the next. And the next. The bravery and the power to move forward no matter what." He stopped on the other side of the alter, "Does this make sense, Graffion?"

Too much. "Yes." He sank a little, "I have been..." head lowered, "moving away often enough." A decade of running. Any time anything got remotely difficult, Graf would pick up and move. No friends, no real connections, not even material goods. Those could be left behind readily enough. "It is time I started moving forward."

"Speaking of which." Karuth was before him now, arms behind his back. "You have been calling yourself Graffion. What is your real name?"

The bottom fell out. Magpie's knees wobbling as the last vestiges of Graf fell away. "I..." A heavy lump formed in their throat. "I only know the name I've been called by." Voice cracking at the end.

"And what is that name?" Karuth's tone hard and expression unreadable. Magpie not even daring to look at the Steward. I'm sorry, came the silent apology to his friends. I'm sorry I dragged you this far only to fail now.

"Magpie." The word hung heavy in the air. It was their most closely held secret. A name, which until very recently only their mother and Martigan had known. A name which the party had only learned of a handful of days ago. A name that had seemingly failed to fully register with them.

Karuth nodded, "Very well..." A long moment of silence, "King Magpie." Head snapped up, catching the soft smile that the older male was giving him. "One more simple thing, for all of you. Please do form up."

The party shuffled, bumping into one another and muttering as they did their best to line up. Karuth's expression softening with a smile. The guards moved around them with trained precision, standing before the party. Karuth directly before Magpie. As one, the group stepped forward, holding jars of almost fluorescent red pant and brushes.

"All of you please, and this may sound awkward, disrobe." He held Magpie's gaze gently, seeing the worried look on the younger dragonborn's face. "Only to the level which you are comfortable."

Some giggles came from Magpie's party, but the noises were distant. A quiet sigh wheezing out as Magpie started undressing. Karuth stepping in only as each article was offered. Taking and crisply folding the garment before placing it behind him. When it came to undergarments, Magpie worried their bottom lip before taking it off as well. That much looked like any other dragonborn, but... Fingers shook before finding the end of the wraps that encircled their chest.

Graffion had lied countless times, saying the wrappings were there to help an old wound. One that had healed poorly and been treated worse. A tug loosened the wrappings. Karuth stepping in to help bare the dragonborn, his touch soft and gentle as he helped unwrap the dragonborn's breasts. And, for the first time in twenty-five years of life, Magpie was exposed fully.

Magpie's arms dropped wearily to their sides. Too worn down to even think of covering their now bared breasts. Gaze barely lifting to Karuth. The Steward's expression soft, but strangely not seeming surprised by the reveal. Though Magpie felt like every set of eyes were on their bared body. Never in their entire life had Magpie felt so exposed.

Karuth offered the paint and brush. "For every pang of guilt, regret, or remorse you may feel. Mark yourself with this pant on your body."

Two things immediately came to mind. Head dropping to hide the tears that were forming. The brush practically jabbing at their heart and dragging across it. Painting a large, heavy line of blood red. For Martigan. The line dropped to draw a second heavy line across their stomach. For the child unknown.

A hand swept up to take the pot and brush before they were dropped from numb fingers. Magpie averted their gaze from the Steward. Seeing the others had marked their bodies as well. Hands, throats, chests, and heads all bore marks. Grig having a roughly drawn symbol of Mielikki on his chest. Pickle having two strange symbol over her heart and another over her lower stomach.

Karuth closed his eyes and nodded, "See the remorse, the regret, the guilt. Painted on each or your companions. There is much, it seems, you wish to undo in your lives." Oh if only. "This may not solve it all, but perhaps it will server as a reminded that even the deepest of pains can be healed. In due time."

Tears began to run freely down Magpie's cheeks as the Steward's fingers snapped. A cool rain washing down over each of them. Head rocked back to let the rain mask it. Tears and paint alike being washed to the marble floor.

A bark came from Floof as the mastiff ran around in the rain. A grin crossing Karuth's features. "As I said." Despite knowing he was speaking to the group, his words ran strong in Magpie's ears. "Let that serve as a reminder that all, in due time, can be washed away. Now..." another snap and warm air washed over each of them, drying their bodies. "Now, you may re-robe." Magpie took the clothes as offered, looking at the chest wrappings and shaking their head. Not now.

"King Magpie, please step forward." Half clothed, Magpie did as asked. "You have proven yourself, at least to those in witness, to be worthy to carry the rights and responsibilities of the King of the Lunar Protectorate. One simple question, how shall you serve?" A hand lifted, "You have two options.

"You may take upon publicly, the crown. A ceremony will be held. You will take to your throne, and begin duties as a royal. And I shall step aside as Lord Steward.

"Your second option, as I have mentioned earlier. You may serve in a different capacity until such time as you decide to make your public ascension. Your ascension as king will remain a closely guarded secret to all in witness and you may serve as Archduke Graffion DeLuc, to the rest of the world. Acting as an agent to the king in secret. Working to advance the interests of the kingdom and the overall safety of this entire realm. What is your choice, King Magpie?"

As if there was ever a choice, "I am not ready for a crown. There is much to learn. Much to uncover." Not just about the world and the kingdoms therein, but of themselves. Their entire life had been spent behind one mask or another. It was about time Magpie learned how they should live. "And you have been doing a wonderful job." A slight smile, "You have people loyal and willing to kill for you."

The smile was returned, "That is true." Karuth sighed, "I admit, I am a bit tired of this responsibility." He laughed, "I was almost looking forward to an ascension so I could retire. But if this is your true wish then we shall go with our section option. You shall have the backing of the kingdom in all your endeavors. In as much capacity as we can provide." So not carte blanche, that was reassuring at least. "You and your entourage will be welcome here and, to the rest of the world, you will simply be Graffion DeLuc. But to all those here, we will know that when you decide to take on that crown. You are the rightful heir. Lord Magpie of Moonsteppe."

As one the Lord Steward and guards bowed.

Rajan muttered, "Well I can tell you that Brasshold has been looking for a trade agreement."

Eyes snapped towards the bard, "All of these things can be discussed after a slight celebratory meal, I think. There will be no public celebration, but to all of you will receive a pittance." Karuth stepped forward and rested a hand on Magpie's shoulder. "For now, your trials have ended and you have proven yourself. All of you have proven yourselves. Do you all stand by Magpie as his companions? And do you, Magpie, stand by them?"

"There is nowhere else I'd rather stand."

Rajan piped up, "Maybe not on my foot?" Karuth chuckled. "No, it hurts." A bit of a harder press with his toes then. "No really, it hurts." Magpie knew this.

"A little levity never hurt these situations." A squeeze to the shoulder, "We are concluded here. You may return to your estate, which The Crown will of course purchase and bequeath to you." Emerald Estate was theirs? Before this the only thing close to a home had been that little loft room back at Chime's, with a pair of hammocks and nothing more. There was a twinge of regret as Magpie lamented not renting one of the other estates. Bet the old royal estate was nice. "You now have your own home here in Moonsteppe. Anytime any of you require anything, do not hesitate to come to me."

Squeezing Magpie's shoulder, he stepped back and bowed. The guards breaking apart to guide them back to the carts. Karuth stopping to scratch Floof's head as he bounded over. Grig muttering something under his breath as he tried to wrestle his wildly bushy pelt back under control.

Magpie's feet were dragging somewhat as the wrappings were wound around a hand and shoved into a pocket. It would be dealt with later. Graf would need some work. The mask had been shattered beyond repair, but there was nothing saying that he couldn't be improved and brought back.

Only a few steps were made before Pickle blocked their path. That same unreadable look from before on her face. Kobold crossing her arms and looking over the dragonborn before locking eyes, "Hello."

"Hello?" Magpie blinked slowly in confusion.

A grin spread across her lips. "Nice to finally meet you, Magpie." And then she was off, leaving the dragonborn staring dumbly at her back. Wincing, Magpie drew their jacket closer about their body and followed suit.