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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Tilmamir" data-source="post: 2306071" data-attributes="member: 31628">Getting together (Relsyn/Airith): Coldeven 25Wrinkle sits on the floor in the darkest corner of the heavily draped private room of the Mitre Inn. He is dressed in black, apparently unarmed and at ease on the floor. It is absolutely silent in here, with only the clink of a porcelain cup on a small plate occasionally interrupting. There are no windows here, and the only portal into here is the velvet-padded door. "Kind of like a cave" he thinks. The table in the center of the room is quite beautiful, flawless in it mahogany color and satin finish. The chairs around the table match its elegance - padded leather seats and arms with brass tacks trimming the upholstery. Various appetizers are laid out on the table, along with cups for tea and water.Archbishop Irwin sits at the table with absolute calm. The door opens as Irwin sips his tea. He looks up to see the arrival of the first of the unknown candidates. A young cleric sticks his head in the door and glances around. Irwin looks at him blankly for a few seconds, then smiles. "Enter and welcome. The others should be here shortly." He gestures to a chair by the table.Irwin is a tall man, with salt and pepper hair, and a strongly chiseled face. His robes are gray, with spun-gold cloth trim, gold cording, and four scarlet velvet bars on each arm. He is obviously a man of power, sitting comfortably in his chair. He makes no move to start the conversation, but rather sits watching the others while drinking his tea. He pushes a bowl of almond pudding toward the others, and reclines a little.</blockquote>

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