Sean-Olc Robes
Kyyrk
Vytal Noctura
Kurenai Yumi
Taramaz leaned back against the wall, and crossed his legs at the ankle in the most casually-respectable manner one could muster. He tilted his head back slightly as his sipped from his drink, before lowering it back down to the area of his mid-torso, holding it there casually in one hand. He allowed the warm, if somewhat fruity and sweet for his tastes, liquid to wash down his throat and send a chill.
He nodded politely at Kurenai with a warm, if somewhat disinterested, smile gracing his lips. Saints knew he hated these gatherings. In his opinion, the other Obsidian Lords wouldn't know how to celebrate if the Vicelord ordered them to. Or perhaps it was his Vi'dreya blood, a habit passed down ancestrally.
Though, Taramaz would be remiss if he assumed they were not celebrating right now. Did everybody not celebrate in their own way? His lovely wife, he knew for a fact, wouldn't be caught dead in a Nightclub just to enjoy herself. Though she admittedly wouldn't be caught dead. He had a strange feeling that she'd outlive Death itself...
He internally cringed at the use of his surname without formal title. It simply wasn't tradition, to be quite honest, it was a death sentence in Sean-Olc culture. While he didn't uphold all traditions the Sean-Olc considered long standing and holy... it didn't mean he lacked instincts. So instead of raising a hand to attack his fellow Marshal, he raised his bottle in warm greeting.
"
A pleasure Marshal Yumi, though I ask that if you use my surname that you accompany it with a formal title. It is blasphemous in my culture, and you have done the equivalent of calling me a Saint or God, though I take no personal offence, others of my culture might."
His heart smile continued as he inhaled rather deeply, if sharply.
"
Though I wouldn't use the term late over fashionably late, your assessment of the situation is not wrong."
He tilted his head over to Voph, nodding along respectfully to the conversation that seemed to be aimed at him yet at everybody but him. To be Lord Militant, as he had begun to phrase the title, was to take up the sword and shield in defense of the Confederacy, as opposed to the parchment and quill of the Knights Vizier, and the traveller's cloak and dagger of the Knights Errant.
It was to command military efforts most effectively, and what better place than a building named for it's domination and protection of a city? The place that saw itself once as the Headquarters for all Knights Obsidian efforts and operations nation-wide.
Taramaz offered a final respectful nod before once again opening his mouth to speak.
"
A most true statement, Lord Commander. I believe the Citadel would also serve as a most apt Base-of-Operations for the Shadow Legion to report back to, though not serving in the same capacity as their outposts along the fringe of Confederate Space in the South-Eastern portion of Confederate Space. Speaking of said outposts, I believe they should be reaching completion in the near future. You are more than welcome to tour them, as is Her Magical Majesty, the Nightmother, and my esteemed colleague, Marshal Yumi."
He offered a mock half-bow to the Nightmother as he addressed her in jest. It simply would not do to have such a hardly-worked and pressured group devoid of fun and laughter in a celebration of the opening of a new retreat for rest and paradise. As to their escapades after said celebration... perhaps Taramaz would have to show them how a Verd enjoyed themselves, with a tour of the best damn bars on the planet, and a visit to the Ancestral Lands.
