"These are the plans," the Receiver continued, "for the banquet tonight at the royal dining hall. You'll see the chart, here, showing the arrangements--this is where you will be seated," he said, pointing out on a small, overhead drawing of the dining hall just where at the U-shaped table the guests would be placed. "An escort will be provided and arrive at the first sign of sunset to bring you from your quarters to the hall for the evening. Some of the Geis will accompany you to the quarters to help with luggage and with prepping your rooms.
"We understand you have some guests with you, as well, and of course if you'll just sign here than they'll be entirely under your care while still under the protection of Peltran-Golacin jurisdiction . . . " he continued on, keeping the foreigners occupied for several more minutes before finally they were finished with the procedural introductions, and ready to move on with their welcoming to the world. Inside the Arstark, the rest of the visiting party was finishing with packing their things used over the long voyage from Falinam. Tedious as cleaning up the astral ship was, they would rather handle their own things and have the full baggage ready for the Geis than leave the whole task to them. Better still, they were grateful to the positions of Garuil and Melaruil, that they wouldn't all have to stand through the grueling process of being Received.
A few Geis were already carrying luggage through the hatch, and stomping their ways down the ladder to the awaiting cart, piling each bag neatly into one, large stack. Once all their bags were finally packed and out the door, the two fine ladies and young boy who had remained on the craft braved the outdoors and carefully started down toward the pier. They were all dressed in equally fancy, glimmering outfits--the girls in lovely teal dresses, and the boy in mostly white garb with gold trimmings--as their now frazzled companions, who greeted them by the base of the ladder, and introduced them to their Receivers.
"Aelian, Tiok, this is the Head Receiver, Garalin Darlis," began Melaruil, presenting his daughter and son, "who has just finished the business of Accepting us to Golacin." The tall, slender man tilted his head some toward the Garalin, giving him a curious yet stern look, as though praying that this remain true.
"Yes, yes!" was the reply, "A pleasure, of course. We welcome you all Peltrao, Golacin," Garalin Darlis said with a slight bow. "We're ready to bring you to your quarters, so if you'll just come this way, the carriage is waiting."
The five newcomers and secondary Receiver all followed Darlis's lead, Garuil and his lady companion glancing to each other with a shrug. The third and silent Receiver separated from the group, carrying off his book to another transport. Soon, they were all off to their lodgings, and staring off curiously into the Peltran landscape as it passed by the windows of the carriage.
A loud, below of a laugh resonated from the second table across the entryway door of Lar Martuish, and the man responsible raised his large mug merrily to take another gulp of his fine, cold kloren. Setting the drink down again, a drop of the tan colored liquid ran down Jol's beard and spilled onto his lap. Wiping his beard and his pants, Shoones Jol looked over the table to his friend. "And ye call me a whale-teller, you and your crazy ol' stories," he said with what was almost a grin, but turned into a smirk. "But now then, what of these new guests o' yours, anyhow? Them lanky fellers wore a lot of shinin' trimmin's."
Emoril Denaril cleared his throat, after finishing his last sip of classically warm kloren, and looked to Jolin with that old eye of business he often had. "They're from Falinam, actually . . . Here on some sort of diplomatic mission, or so's the story." The old man seemed uneasy on the topic, and looked over the bridge of his nose. "Let's have us a walk, you and I . . . "