Veiled Visions (RP)

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Postby Myra » Sun Mar 06, 2005 1:54 am

Myriana stared out the window, more bored than she'd been in quite some time. The sailors of the ship had treated her like a messenger from their beloved gods after the stunt she'd pulled, but once they'd reached Trevaeth, she'd been forced to leave the sea, and its followers, behind. The ambassadorial 'entourage' would simply consist of the scribe Justin, her servant Mojag, and herself. She couldn't rightly toy with the coachmen, because they were necessary for the land portion of her trip.

The Lady smoothed out the skirts of her modest navy gown, trying her best to look concerned instead of irritated as she looked at the untouchable Justin. Ten hours of riding in the carriage with only a few short stops along the way to change out the horses and eat quick meals. She'd taken a couple of naps whenever the roads were smooth enough not to jostle her awake; Mojag had served well as a pillow. However, she knew that her patience was wearing thin as was her mask of caring. As talented an actress as she was, she'd never pushed herself with so little sleep and no downtime away from the farce. One thing was for certain. She'd need to have some time to take a nap and compose herself once they arrived and were settled within Krysthian.

"You there! State your business!" A guard approached the carriage and peered in through the side window at Myra and her companions. She remained silent, doing her best to look dignified and demure in spite of the travel wear. Justin spoke up on her behalf.

"The Lady Myriana Svetos of Yugaron seeks audience with the High Council of Phaeretii as ambassador for the Lord Lusoth." The guard looked closely at the three in the carriage, his eyes lingering on Mojag before waving them into the city. His reaction had been painfully easy to read. Word of the previous night's attack had reached them. It was early in the afternoon, so riders had probably left Reathin in the night after the attackhad ended. She still didn't know if any of the soldiers had survived the ordeal, but she imagined she'd soon find out.

The carriage stopped at a palacial building near the center of the large city. A footman hurried forward and helped her from the vehicle, then escorted her inside to the guest quarters.

"The council will convene in a little more than two hours, my Lady. I will come to escort you to the meeting. Then you will be allowed to come forward as a petitioner and address the councilmen." The footman bowed and backed out of the room.

"You hear that, Mojag? I have time for a nap and probably even a quick bath. Wake me after an hour and a half has passed. I'd like a bath ready for me when you do." He grunted in response and settled himself into a couch while Myra undressed and slipped into bed, shivering in delight as the cool fabric caressed her skin. "Thank you, Mojag."
So far so good cause no one knows I'm faking
I wish I could show you the toll it's taking
Sometimes I live as if there's no tomorrow
So far so good
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Postby Elijah Morteron » Mon Mar 07, 2005 7:02 pm

Reathin.

Elijah looked out over the city from the balcony of his council quarters. Below him lights flickered like fireflies, and the main road was still heavy with traffic moving in and out of the city. He imagined what it would look like aflame, put to the torch, as the enemy had planned at Reathin.

He was puzzled by the action, not only did it seem a swift strike, but also a poorly planned one. Despite the loss of civilian life, and the destruction of a number of buildings on the sea front, the people of the Port had easily routed the enemy. He didn't have to be Lord Lusoth's bosom pal to know that this event had likely occured beyond the man's knowledge. Perhaps the very same man that Perian had been working for was also responsible for this.

He shivered a little in his open shirt, the night was unusually cold, but he found that that same cold woke his senses up, sharpened them in readiness for the mental jousting that would surely take place at the council table. If Lord Lusoth was worth his salt, Elijah expected an aide to have been dispatched as soon as the mistake had been discovered. He wondered who that person would be, and whether they would be making urgent apologies and excuses, or whether they would use the border infringment to cloud the present issue.

Then there was the other matter. He looked over his shoulder back into the room where the books sat open on his desk.

Ravens and black horses

He cast his mind back to the day that he and Perian, drunk as Lords, had stumbled on the old hag in 'The Breather', the district sailors used to 'relieve' themselves.

She'd looked at him with those eyes. Eyes that couldn't see, but at the same time saw everything. "Harbinger of death. Lord of Misery", she'd called him, backing away even as he and Perian had laughed. "Ravens shall dog your life. As they mark your birth, so shall they be your end."

Nonsense. Nonsense that day by day was making more and more sense.

Shivering again he returned inside, closing the door behind him and basking for a moment in the feeling of warmth permeating his flesh, radiating from the open hearth next to the large oak bookcase. Stepping over to the desk he checked over the letters he had written and ensured they were properly sealed. One to Hemlin with instructions, another to Lady Traimon apologising for his earlier behavior, and a third to his Sergeant at Arms. They'd be carried at dawn with a few gold crowns to spur the messengers to record pace.

Buttoning up his shirt he read the paragraph he had circled in the Arcana for perhaps the fourth time that night, before donning his purple silk robes. He wanted to arrive early, the timing of the arrival of the others would determine for him what their relative knowledge was of the whole affair. If he was right about some of his musings at least one person would already be waiting.

He schooled his expression, adopting an emotionless visage. He locked unneccessary thoughts away in the steel safe within his mind, and set all his faculties to the task at hand. One deep breathe later he was out of the room and on his way.

*****

The Council chamber was circular, doors at dotted at regular intervals around it's wall. White stone pillars created a second circle of sorts, each one marked by a brazier that cast a bright orange glow all about the room. The roof was glass allowing the light of the moons and stars to shine down upon the large crescent table. Five chairs were set at it's outer arc, the middle higher backed for the High Regent. Before it three chairs had been placed where usually there were none ((when a regent wished to address the table he stood)), confirming Elijah's earlier thoughts.

That the room was empty suprised him, but then perhaps it shouldn't have done. Perhaps he underestimated his fellows. He took a seat on the far right of the regent's chair, as befitted his years and status. Darien's seat was beside his, and on the other side were Illian Fythus, a hot headed, balding bull of a man and Xavier Zruus, perhaps the oldest man ever to sit on the council, and the longest serving councilman at the ripe age of one hundred and three.

He thought on the proposed encounter with Darien. He'd hoped to meet up with the Lord before the meeting, but when he'd arrived and enquired, he'd been informed that Coteza was unavailable. He wondered idly what occupied the Regent's time. Perhaps he wasn't the only one to have other business to mind.

A few moments later a door opened and Xavier shuffled into the room, heavily leaning on a stave as tall as himself. They all knew that the old man would not be with the council much longer, either death or senility would take him soon, and it was oft rumoured that the latter had already taken hold. Elijah knew otherwise. The 'old man' had a mind as sharp as a razor.

Soon after Illian ducked his way inside favouring his left leg. His right had taken a bullet in his youth during the last war when he'd saved his commanding officer. It was that heroic status that had granted him office in later life, an office that Elijah knew the man used to the satiation of his more base desires. It wasn't uncommon to find Illian frequenting the houses of ill repute during the early hours. His womanising and gluttonous drinking had taken it's toll and left the man not only with a permanent purple cheeked 'port face' but also, it was rumoured, syphillis.

He exchanged small nods with the men in greeting, but sat in silence, leaving them to idle chatter, Xavier happy to talk unnendingly about some new great grandson he'd been blessed with.

Thankfully Elijah was saved by the arrival of the High Regent. As one the three men stood and half bowed as the slender man with greying temples and strong angular features stepped in resplendent in his own purple robes, slashed with gold lining and edging. The medallion of office hung heavily around his long thin neck, almost seeming to drag him down with it's weight.

Soon they were back in their seats, and Elijah was scrutinizing his peers for tells. The High Regent seemed distracted and impatient. Perhaps worried too. In truth they all seemed to share those emotions, but for, seemingly, the old man, who smiled happily to himself, likely still thinking on the new birth.

As Lord Morteron waited for the arrival of Darien and their guests, he wondered if the old man would still be happy after the meeting had reached his end. If he would be happy realising that his new kin was to grow up in a world where the devil was to run riot. Where death and plague and famine would run riot in the greatest war in human history.
"I give hope to men, I keep none for myself."
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Postby Suunavia » Mon Mar 07, 2005 8:33 pm

Brushing a few strands of hair from her face she peered down at the person streched out on the ground before her. A burned thigh and several flesh wounds. He'd survive if the burn didn't get infected. Getting down on her knees next to the man she brushed her hand against the side of his face. He turned eyes that were dazed and full of pain to look at her. She smiled in a soothing manner, pleased that he was consious. She began a light chatter, intended to keep his attention on her and not on what she was doing. Currently she was carefully picking bits of cloth and debris out of the burn. He winced a few times but she continued to talk as she cleansed the burn and wounds, put pastes and a various herbs on them that took out the burn, reduced pain and quickened the healing process, then wrapped the wounds in clean bandages. After all this was done she helped the man to stand and walk over to a bench next to one of the buildings that had remained untouched thus far.

Not only would the night be long but the next few days for her would be busy. Instead of people coming to her little hut, she'd have to come into town. Some were injured far to badly to move or travle even a short distance.

Suunavia was unconcerned with the whys and hows of the attack. She was also unconcerned about the potential dangers of wandering around a town that had been recently attacked. The more unscuplous people of the township took advantage of the confusion to steal and force themselves upon females. Not just them either but any soldiers that had managed to escape death for any amount to time would gladly kill a civilian, injured or otherwise. More like she didn't think about these things at all that was unconcered. She wasn't even cognisent of these things, they never entered her mind as she went from one person to another trying to help where she could or to ease the pain of someone close to death to their last moments in this world weren't so bad.
The days, they turn into years.
The eyes, they drown in tears.
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Postby Julian Hale » Tue Mar 08, 2005 12:03 am

'Ahh, here we go...'

The bespectacled man pushed an assortment of books and papers aside and laid the leather-bound case on the desk. Although it was nigh on midday, the near-subterranean room knew little of sunlight. The man ran slender fingers over his balding head, peering this way and that, before his eyes alighted on another lamp. He retrieved it and laid it next to it's twin on the desk - allowing himself a contented smile as if all was now right.

'What name was it, again?'

'Svetos. Myriana.'

The Master of Records nodded, adjusted his spectacles and opened the case before his hands froze. He peered up at Julian, squinting at him in the dim light, a frown creasing his prodigious forehead.

'I'm not... why the interest in her?'

Julian moved forward a little so the historian could see a shy, albeit guilty, smile transform his face.

'I... I have a crush on her...', he stammered a little and bit his lip. 'I was hoping that a little extra knowledge about her might give me an advantage over other suitors'.

The historian's eyes narrowed a little more.

'So all your talk about your great love of history and royal lines was a ruse?' He stared at Julian accusingly, his raspy voice seemed to suit the room.

Julian withdrew a step and stared at the wooden floor.

'I... I'm sorry...'

The Master of Records frowned at him for several heartbeats before relaxing.

'I was young and.. young once too. Very well, but...' Now the historian bit his lip as if he wanted to say more, to caution the young man before him. He sighed and quickly leafed through a stack of scrolls before fishing one out. Laying it out on the desk, he motioned Julian forward. The latter drew into the light, a conciliatory smile touching his lips.

Myriana Svetos was scribed with all the fullness and flourish of what he imagined the woman herself to be. She was the only issue of a Lord Kriall and Lady Trista. A daughter of the province of Rhost. He moved one hand hesitantly over the parchment, without touching it, noting the historian's quick intake of breath at the thought of his precious record being defiled. Julian frowned. The parchment seemed old but almost too intentionally so. Where the others he could see of the file had a range of different signs dictating their age - this particular file had all the signs.

'Have any of these files been replaced?'

The Master of the Records shot him a searching look. He stared at him in this manner for several heartbeats before reaching out, retrieving the file, and rebinding the case.

'Why would you ask such a question?' The historian's voice rose to a high pitched waver. 'No one touches these files. They are the originals'. A bead of sweat caught the lamplight as it ran down his reddening face. He brushed at it annoyingly and abruptly stood. Julian withdrew back into the shadows.

'It's nothing... I... I'm sorry. Thank you so much for your help...'

The Master of Records turned sharply and returned the case to its space on the shelf. When he turned back, the young man had disappeared.
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Postby Six » Fri Mar 11, 2005 9:11 am

"This boy givin' you trouble, Maggie?" asked The Voice. The tone it carried didn't so much merely deserve the capital letter recognition. It demanded it, with just a hint of dire implications if it wasn't given the most absolutely correct answers to it's questions. It belonged to Six, who now strode into the room with a casual authority. Her boots thumped against the floorboards menaceingly as her crimson cloak drifted back and forth behind her, keeping pace. Her lips pulled back slowly into a predatory smirk as she turned the full force of her sapphire eyes onto Senken.

She had the Sword of Rain, sheathed and carried across her back as she came to a stop. Slinging it down tip-first into the floor, she leaned casually on the hilt.

"Oh, hey, I remember you. You're th' guy we peeled offa the pavement in the square!" she said, full of dangerous amusement. She glanced back at the girl from the tavern and full on grinned. "Our little one-man-army isn't givin' you any trouble, is he Maggie?"

Maggie shook her head.

"Good. 'Cause I'd hate for there to be any more trouble in Reathin tonight." Six remarked, gestureing for Maggie to leave. "I need to talk to Sparky here. Go see if anyone else needs a hand with the wounded."

As the innkeeper's daughter departed, Six returned her attention more directly to the Kotoain. "SO! Sparky. This is one crazy damn sword you got here." she began, picking the aforementioned blade up in both hands. "Ain't quite sure what all that gibberish on the side means, but I'm guessin...Point Away From Face? I dunno. Seems a little nuts to go swinging a few feet of sharp steel around on a chain like that. I mean, that's about as dangerous to you as it is to the guy in front of ya. An' probably pretty hard on the poor bastard standin' next to ya. Or whatever. Personally, I like a plain ol' sword sword any day over this fancy-schmancy sword-chuck B.S. But I'm into control like that." she said, flashing a grin.

"So anyway, I'm guessin' you want this numb-nuts contraption back. Looks important. I don't mind tellin' you, I am personally less than inclined with the idea of arming you at this time. So before we talk about that, why don't you first tell me who ya are, and why you came, and heck...I'd even be downright appreciative of any information you might have as to the why's and wherefore's of today's wannabe invasion."
~~~~~
I'm Elektamerica, and this is what it's...for...
A simple song, to sing along, and shake your head...
Tap your feet on the floor.

~Loudermilk, Elekt
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Postby Old Tomarchius, The Red » Fri Mar 11, 2005 9:29 am

The dragon listened to Inge's story, smileing to himself. Here then, was a quintessential human. A young member, of a young race, entirely to eager to be anything vaguely resembling patient. Also, prone to overthinking, overexplaining and overqualifying. Still, enthusiasm of that sort was...contagious. Even to ancient old drakes like Tom.

The Sending was unexpected, and technically a breach of several forms of ettiquette. Still, Tomarchius was inclined to let the child get away with it...this time at least. The implications were...unclear, though decidedly ominous. He rumbled thoughtfully, resting his head on the backs of his claws.

"Now then, perhaps I can introduce myself before we continue, my young and impetuous Inge. I am Tomarchius, often called the Red. And yes, I am old...in a good way." he said with a chuckle. "As for your mystery, I'm afraid there isn't much I can add to it...it is somewhere far from here, and the wind tells only so much. It may be worthy of further investigation, however..."
~~~~~
The sun wakes me, on devil's morning,
His arms stretch over the town to make a,
Red-sky, month of Juillet, and you are gorgeous,
The dust you ingest you die.
~Loudermilk, California
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Postby Ashton Kendricks » Mon Mar 14, 2005 1:44 pm

Ashton, condescendingly, made his way across his mother's prized ballroom forcing a smile when required and shaking hands when necessary. Once again his mother had gone all out to throw yet another one of her famed dinner parties that honestly, Ashton felt anyway, was more so for her own addictive pleasures then for his benefit. The room was lavishly decorated in various shades of blue with silver accents set off by the amorous dim lighting from the chandelier that hung overhead. The smooth sounds of orchestral music filled the room with a soft ambiance and those who where not dancing could surly be found gathered around one of the many tables of meats and fresh fruits that spotted the area. Honestly, Ashton could have found the whole situation fairly tolerable if he had in fact liked any of the people attending. Most of the individuals in attendance were council members, politicians, fellow lawyers and their wives; all of which Ashton had no desire to be even seen in the same room with let alone socialize with.

Ashton shook his head dreading the thought of having to keep up such an amiable facade for the remainder of the night and if it wasn't for the sudden appearance of his father, he may have very well made it through . . .

. . . Ashton . . .

. . . Seth

Ashton and his father, Seth Kendricks, had never really gotten along, in fact, the two interacted more like business associates than father and son. Seth was a tall man of 51, solid muscular build, and was the epitome of the distinguished gentleman. He was a handsome man whose looks had contributed to his unfaithful behavior. He had short dark brown hair and a goatee accompanied by light brown eyes. Seth always held a very distinguished atmosphere about himself. He, like Ashton, was a very articulate and analytical individual and very critical of others. The later it what had distance him and Ashton from one another. Seth was also a very cautious man not so much in a paranoia way but more so in an untrusting manor.

I suppose you are pleased with yourself?

You know, I think it might actually kill you to give me some sort of complement or recognition, wouldn't it? Aston replied after taking a moment to survey the room and briefly sip from his wine glass. All the more incentive for me to keep doing such a damn good job.

You're a cocky little bastard aren't you?

Both of which are your fault I might add. Ashton took another sip from his glass. He then smiled and raised his glace towards a gentleman opposite him in acknowledgment. It was almost eerie how Ashton kept such a cool collective persona about him. He was never one to raise his voice or change his tone, however, his intent and emotions could always be felt in his words in a almost piercing way. It was as if he was drilling the desired effect on his victims forcing them to experience what he, personally, would not share. Anger swelled in Ashton's father and it was no surprise to him that the glass Seth held in his hand suddenly shattered by the sudden increased force of his grip.

Do be careful father, I wouldn't want you to hurt yourself.

It was just then that Ashton's mother appeared in response to the sound of breaking glass.

My word, are you ok? she said taking a towel to her husbands hand. She moved hastily to prevent blood from touching her wonderful floor then for any real concern for her husbands well being. Why is it that things always seem to go wrong when you two come together?

Ashton's mother, Eliana Kendricks, was a professional Aristocrat who, Ashton thought, would die if she actually had to lift a finger to do anything ever in her over privileged life. She had long brunet hair and deep green eyes. Her features were soft and her skin was cream in color. Honestly, she was a very attractive woman and many wondered just why she had never left Ashton's father after finding out about his many "encounters." Ashton simply felt that it was due to the fact that few others would support her ever increasingly expensive habits.

Ashton, I would like to speak with you in the kitchen, now!

Do you even know where it is? Ashton replied coolly not missing a beat. He then handed her his drink and bowed. If you would excuse me, I have guest and I would just hate to deprive them of my presence. His tone hinted sarcasm. Mother. . . Seth. .

With that he disappeared amongst the many faces of the room.
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Postby Bretina » Fri Mar 18, 2005 4:24 pm

Her eyes fluttered open and she slowly lookd about her room. At some point in the night Ruth must have come in because she certainly didn't remember tucking herself neatly under the covers. Bretina smiled to herself. That seemed to be just something her maid would do. Judging by the light that filtered through the heavy drapes, it seemed to still be fairly early in the morning, probably a little more than an hour past sunrise. Of course, if that was the case, then she needed to dress quickly, because she imagined she'd be facing either an angry mob or at least a set of angry parents soon. She quickly chose one of her few blue house dresses and set to brushing the bed tangles out her long hair. Sure enough, there was a gentle knock at her door.

"My lady?" Ruth stepped inside to make sure her mistress was indeed awake before moving to the vanity, placing a crisp sealed envelope on the table. "This arrived a moment ago from Krysthian." Bretina ran her fingers across the seal, her lips curling into the faintest of pleased grins. Only one person in Krysthian would have sent her a message. She had to restrain herself to keep from opening it immediately, so she turned her black gaze on her maid who was still standing expectantly at her side.

"Is there something more, Ruth?"

"Yes, my lady." The maid bit her lower lip and frowned slightly. "Master Antal's caretakers are here and they would like to speak with you." Bretina quirked a brow, the smile that had been gracing her lips fading in an instant.

"Caretakers? You mean he doesn't live with his parents?"

"No, my lady. He's fostering in the village."

"That's good to know. Tell them I'll be with them shortly." Ruth gave a quick curtsy and hurried out of the room. Apparently her young guest was more than what he seemed. Now she understood the sense of startled disappointment she'd felt radiating from the boy when she'd given him a formal curtsy of her own last night. She'd thought nothing of it at the time, so eager had she been to get to a quiet, dark room.

In a smooth motion, she stood and glided to the door, quickly traversing the halls of her estate until she reached the room that had been her personal study when she was a little girl. She still preferred to use this room instead of the more formal feeling room that had belonged to her aunt. Sitting at the desk she penned a quick response to Lord Morteron. Grasping the sealed letter in her hand, she finally went to face the couple awaiting her in the parlor, stopping Ruth before entering the chamber to pass the message on to a courier.

"I apologize for the wait, sir and madam. I had to respond to an urgent message." Her gaze passed from the man's face, Bartimer Ruth had said was his name, to his wife's. Kai seemed to be less at ease with the present situation than her mate, but both were hiding their concern fairly well. "I understand that you are young Antal's caretakers." The two nodded mutely, their eyes following her every move as she took a seat in one of the high backed chairs, motioning for them to do so if it suited them. "Then let me first say that he is well. He fell from the top of my outer wall and hit his head on one of the rocks which line the flower beds. I've had my personal physician keep watch over him. He spent the night here with me just to ensure that no lasting damage had occurred." Kai looked somewhat relieved, if not still a little concerned with something else.

"We're fairly new in town, and, well, we've heard things about you." Bretina's jaw tightened and she nodded in understanding.

"Have no fear, Kai. I did not sacrifice your charge to demons or the dark gods." She took a deep breath to calm the hard edge from her voice. "What the deeply religious townsfolk forget when they tell the exaggerated tale of how I came to be here is that the fires spared me, and the fire goddess Vultana is kind and good. Surely if I had been an abomination, she would have allowed me to be consummed along with my parents." Bretina did not believe as completely in the pantheon as the people here did, but she knew enough about the gods to get by.

"May we at least see him?" The Lady smiled at Bartimer and moved to stand.

"I'll take you to him myself. He's probably still sleeping, if he's anything like I was as a child." She led them out into the corridor and up to Antal's guest chamber. Kai and Bartimer wasted no time in moving to the edge of the bed to see for themselves that the boy was unharmed. Dr. Wilkerson, stirred inhis chair by the bed and nodded politely at the two adults. Bretina motioned for him to leave the two to speak with the boy alone and went back to the parlor. Antal surely knew how to find his way around her home by now, so she imagined he'd guide his caretakers back to her with little trouble.
"Let the dreamers and seers keep watch.
It is what we do."
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Senken: Broken.

Postby Senken » Sun Mar 20, 2005 11:00 am

"I need to talk to Sparky here. Go see if anyone else needs a hand with the wounded."

And with that the young women nodded her head and rushed off out the door. The one giving commands and seemed to be in charge was a women dressed ready for combat rather then drinking tea or talking over lunch and cards. She was a sailor. The strong smell of salt water in her clothes and sea breeze hair mixed with sweat indicated that she must have been one of those brave sea men who fought back the attack. Or in this case strangly enough a sea women.
It must have seemed rather odd if not suspect with her walking in finding Senken and the young aid laying on the floor boards like that. Maggie the women called the aid. The name became fimillar and it was starting to awaken Senken's mind as to where he was.

Then he remebered, Maggie was the daughter to a innkeeper near the docks. Senken had meet her once through Lilu'a in a chance meeting mouths ago. But Senken's own where abouts was now starting to become more clear to him.

The loud in guesture women with her bright crimson cloak stood over Senken as he slowly crawled his way back up the support beam to his feet. His head hurt and his vision kept going in and out of focus. Finding his footing was getting harder and he pressed his forehead on the beam and caught his breath once feeling stable.
Turning his head ever so slightly to catch a better look as to who this women was and perhaps why she was leaning on what appeared to be his sword in such a manner. She had jabbed it into the floor when she first came into the room and then leaned on it like it was just some thives blade cast out of poorly mixed bronze.

Senken's swollen features twitched and his blue eyes narrowed their focus on the sword completely. He felt utterly insalted by her actions and manners towards his most treasured blade.

"SO! Sparky. This is one crazy damn sword you got here." , she began and then pulled the blade free of the floor and held it out infront of her studying it's sleek curved blade and Kotoain characters engraved on it's steel above the guard.
Her deep Sapphire eyes glanced up from the shiny edge and staired into Senken. It was a powerful glace that left an impression of complete confidence. In a way feeling her strength in the airs around them or so it seemed to Senken.

She continued, "Ain't quite sure what all that gibberish on the side means, but I'm guessin...Point Away From Face? I dunno. Seems a little nuts to go swinging a few feet of sharp steel around on a chain like that. I mean, that's about as dangerous to you as it is to the guy in front of ya. An' probably pretty hard on the poor bastard standin' next to ya. Or whatever. Personally, I like a plain ol' sword sword any day over this fancy-schmancy sword-chuck B.S. But I'm into control like that."

She did not use cultured words like most ladies did, and was quiet open about her views on the uses of Senken's blade. Speaking more like that of a ruff talking pirate. This would be the second time Senken had ever meet a warrior who was female. Women from his home lands were never to practice in the art of swordsmenship. And in all of places he had traveled; never had he meet a female sailor, let alone one who claimed to know who to use a sword.

Senken's eyes were now taken by the might of the sapphire eyes and returned his own stair which effected her large grin she had developed after lashing out views about the uselessness of Senken's sword.

"So anyway, I'm guessin' you want this numb-nuts contraption back. Looks important. I don't mind tellin' you, I am personally less than inclined with the idea of arming you at this time. So before we talk about that, why don't you first tell me who ya are, and why you came, and heck...I'd even be downright appreciative of any information you might have as to the why's and wherefore's of today's wannabe invasion."

The tone in her vioce changed. It confirmed to Senken once more that she was om control right now and that that contol could not be challenged. Commanding her quetions to be answered. She waited for reply. Senken still leaning against the beam continued to draw his breath in heavily.

" Well? "

"For a start I'll tell you that contraption you hold in your hands so incorectly is the only thing I consider to be a sword. Secondly it is only dangerous to those it is directed at and those who do not know how to use it. It is a weapon of respect and honor, honor perhap I may not have anymore but respect is parimount none the less."

Senken stopped himself. He became personal in his final words for some strange reason. But for what ever reason that was it was true. Senken did not deserve such an honor as to carrie the Sword of the Rain.

"And as for my name it is Suma....... Suma Makoto. And I've been living here in Reathin for the past six mouths or so. And as for why I came, to the battle I am guess you mean. I came to fight because I love this place and I hate the Yugaron. And for why they have attacked Reathin in such a way I do not honestly know."

Senken stopped, he was becoming most tired. He tunred his back to the beam and slid down it slowly to sit on the floor. His head arched back against the beam, his long black hair no longer tidy and held back. Instead thick with sweat and blood, twisted and stuck to his skin and clothing. His only eye still able to open completely looked back up at the women. The pillar of strength that she was comparitive to Senken right now never seemed so obvious then at this very moment.

"I understand that you may not be willing to hand over a weapon to someone you dont know during such time as this. So I will not ask for my sword until you are ready to give it back to me. But please do not treat it as you do. Such things are just not done. Someone of your being must know this..... But as you can see I can not challenge you to not do what you want with it. Your will is your way, for the moment. But I sense a honorable pride in you so I will not be worried about such things. And althought you have done so must for so many including my self I must ask you for more."

Her sapphire eyes intenceified their stair down opon Senken's broken body. In fact Senken could not quiet read her expressions as she gave little changes in your face but it was clear she was thinking many things. Not all good.

"I ask that you go to the a graveyard that overlooks the sea on the edge of town. You will find a young elvish women there. Please take care of her for me. Her name is Lilu'a. And if I could, I would like to know your name?"
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Postby Inge » Sun Mar 20, 2005 3:03 pm

"Now then, perhaps I can introduce myself before we continue, my young and impetuous Inge. I am Tomarchius, often called the Red. And yes, I am old...in a good way. As for your mystery, I'm afraid there isn't much I can add to it...it is somewhere far from here, and the wind tells only so much. It may be worthy of further investigation, however..."

Inge smiled brightly. The gleam in his eye suggested that he was thinking what would have been unthinkable were he not an elder drake. The Drin'athai would never allow her to travel to the farthest mountains, much less discover what some strange noises were that came from the other side of them. Traveling would mean that she could alert Others of their existance...of the existance of the dragons. However, with Tomarchius in attendance, they could not dispute her decision.

"Then let's go investigate!" She turned to walk purposefully towards the home of the sounds when Drengen fluttered in front of her, quickly catching her eye for a Sending of his own. Her face fell and she wrinkled her nose.

"I can see fairly well at night, and I've got the two of you with me. Why shouldn't we just start the journey now? I don't feel in the least bit tired." Her hand darted to her mouth as she attempted to hide a stifled yawn. "Besides, where would we stay the night?" She turned her green eyes pleadingly on the larger dragon. "Do we have to rest first Tom? I can't sleep on these rocks anyhow."
The wind whispers...
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Postby Adrara » Mon Mar 21, 2005 3:58 am

Adrara woke to a rather bright and sunny day that was almost half gone. It wasn't like her to rise from bed before eleven in the morning. She sat up in bed and streched her arms abover her head then pulled on the cord to ring for her maid. Not more than a moment of two had passed before she was jerking on the cord viciously. To Adrara the girl was taking far too long.

The maid came into the room hurriedly and dropped a quick curtsy.
"I..I'm sorry m'lady I was--"

"I don't care what you were doing! Next time you'd better be punctual or I'll make sure you become jobless and stay that way," Adrara cut her off as she slid out of the large plush bed.

Walking slowly she sat at the vanity and began to brush her long wavy hair and motioned to the maid to start showing her gowns so she could decide what to wear for the day.

"No, that one won't do," she said to several of the gowns show to her. She finally settled on a fine silvery grey gown with a moderate neckline, sleeves that were fitted to her arms till mid way down her forearms then flowed in to wide bellsleves, and decorative braiding in a steel blue around the hem and waist line.

She sat still while the maid arranged her hair in artful braids and curls, then applied a bit of rogue on her cheeks for the tiniest amount of color. Admiring herself in the mirror she nodded her head and turned back and forth. Yes, it was all perfect.

heading down to the dinning room for her breakfast she mulled over the information she'd been given by several of her empolyees over the past week. Trade routes all across the border were being shut down. Her's were next she knew. She glanced up upon hearing someone cought as she was seating herself.

"Yes?"
"Excuse me Miss but I've got some dreadful news for you.
Now we're too far gone,
Hope is such a waste
Every breath you take you give me
the burdens bitter taste
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Postby Ryvin » Tue Mar 22, 2005 5:53 pm

The town was in ruins. The guards scattered to the wind. There was nothing really left that was salvagable with the exception of the inn.

The morning after brought to light the destruction and absolute precision of the military strike. Combing his fingers through his hair, Ryvin pondered what his next step would be. His primary concern for his family was quelled last night when they were rushed to the hidden, reinforced rooms below the mansion. His two most trusted and loyal guards never left the entrance to the shelter.

Again, he ran his fingers through his graying locks. He would have to convene his cabinet and start the decision making process immediately.

"Christoph!" Ryvin shouted walking through the rubble. His scribe and personal messenger was never far, and soon came walking up. The boy walked up and nodded silently.

"Please, send a message to all of my cabinet," Ryvin paused, "those that are still alive, and tell them to meet me in the courtyard. Then send a message to Krysthian informing them of our need for supplies and troops."

Christoph nodded again and ran off to where the the remaining messengers had gathered. Ryvin continued to survey the damage just trying to absorb what had occured.
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Postby Elijah Morteron » Wed Mar 23, 2005 6:37 pm

A soft bell chimed once from beyond the council chamber, a signal used to warn the members of the arrival of a visitor. Elijah glanced at the High Regent and noted the knowing expression on the man's face. A moment passed before he spoke.

"Regent Coteza is unable to attend us this evening, he sends his apologies. To business. Our first matter lies with Reathin. I am sure you are all aware by now that the town was attacked this morning." The words hung in the air a moment, but in the silence it was evident that all were well informed of the incident. "It has been reported to me that the attackers wore no livery and that the vessel belonged to a privateer. The damage was indiscriminate, homes and taverns destroyed alongside guardhouses and the town's forum. I would know your thoughts my counsel."

Elijah kept his silence, he wished to hear the others first. He was also wondering what had delayed Coteza. Something important he had no doubt. It was Illian that spoke first.

"My agents inform me that the attack was unorganized, lacking in discipline, more a chaotic riot than a deliberate coup."

"And what reason would my peer suggest for such an attack? It seems strange to me that such an attack should occur at all unless as a precursor to something more serious" , interjected Xavier with a rub of his jaw.

More serious? A hundred or more lay dead, hundreds more injured. Elijah caught the narrowing of his gaze before it became obvious and instead turned his once more relaxed expression on the former soldier as the regent made his reply.

"It seems to me fairly easy to believe that a privateer simply hired mercenaries and attempted to pillage a prosperous port town. One that was inadequately prepared for such an attack. The plan failed. Our recent measures to guard our shipping lanes may have spurred a desperate pirate to a desperate act. One that was obviously too desperate for him."

Fool

"Elijah? You have something to say?"

He realised he had been staring intently at Illian, thoughts running through his mind too fast for him to piece together. He coughed to clear his throat, then replied, softly and clearly. "Only that I would suggest we allocate Admiral Leventeen and his ship, CrossFore, to patrol the coast around Reathin in case a second attempt, whatever the reason, is made. I would also suggest that a detachment of rifles, perhaps the seventeenth, should be sent to garrison the port itself."

"What are you expecting an invasion?" Illian laughed. "A full detachment? Five hundred men for a small town. A waste of time and the coffers."

"It is not a waste if it will prevent the loss of further lives, or has my respected peer forgotten that he is here as a representative of those same people and that their lives are his responsibility as well as it is my own." He'd kept his tone in check, making the statement sound more like an off-hand comment than a full slight. But inside he was losing his temper. He breathed deeply, bringing his thoughts back under control.

Illian had slammed his fist on the crescent table. "How dare you. I know my responsibilities, and I will not be reminded of them by an upstart like you!"

"Upstart? I apologise my Lord if I have offended your ego, but if it will prove to allow your mind space to think, you will see that my suggestions are on the side of caution, and that what you percieve as a insult was merely a reminder. I regret if my words were not seen in that way, I meant them in no other." He smiled inwardly, it had not been the first time he had provoked Illian at the council table, but it had been the first time he had responded in such an open way. It spoke volumes.

Xavier had stayed silent during the exchange, but raised a finger when it seemed that Illian was about to throw something back at Elijah. "Regent Morteron has made a valid and in my opinion a meritable suggestion. I second my peer's decision."

Illian, red-faced, turned to the High Regent, as if awaiting some kind of assistance. "The motion is passed in Coteza's absence, you have been overuled Illian. I shall seal the papers. What of assistance?"

Xavier, who also held the treasurer's role as he had done for fifty years spoke up. "A thousand gold crowns should be sufficient for labour costs for repairs and supplies to tide the townspeople over. Such a sum will not greatly affect our resources."

The motion was passed and the High Regent called for a messenger to take down the decision and see it done.

A second chime rang as the messenger left.

"Our visitor is an envoy from the Republic of Yugaron. I know not the matter she wishes to address with us."

A third and final chime sounded and the main doors to the chamber were opened outwards by two guards outside. A liveried page bowed to the assembled regent before stepping aside and announcing "Lady Myriana Svetos of Yugaron."

Lady Myriana Svetos.

He knew the names of much of the nobility of Yugaron, but the name Svetos seemed to ellude him. He shrugged the thought aside and turned his full attention on the woman that stepped into the room.
"I give hope to men, I keep none for myself."
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Postby Antal Mohan » Fri Mar 25, 2005 8:54 pm

Bartimer stood over Antal, his face stern. Kai's face was a bit harsher. Still, their eyes betrayed them both, and as soon as Antal had awakened and looked in them, he knew he was in no real trouble. They loved him, and he returned the powerful emotion. They would have to go through the pomp and circumstance of the caretakers punishment. He would act the helpless child part, they would act the all powerful parental part. Everyone would be happy.

The conversation was surprisingly quick and quiet, as if they feared the lady hearing them. Antal was grinning through the entire thing, to which Kai took a bit of offense.

"Do you think this is funny, Antal? You worry us to death. Your friends fearing every moment you were gone. Some of the citizens telling us these horrid storys of the Grey Lark Estates. All the while, you're here having the time of your life!" Kai never raised her voice above a harsh whisper.

Antal sat up, cocking an eyebrow, "Kai. Bartimer. You both are too smart to fall for this rumor-mongering rubbish. You both know enough of this country to know of those that inhabit it, and those who pass through. Are you truly going to tell me that you thought these vile lies were the truth? Did you sincerely believe that I was sacrificed to some demon?"

Bartimer swiftly turned his head away from Antal and Kai, but not before the boy saw the smile forming upon his weathered lips. Kai simply stared at Antal. She had a bad habit of forgetting the boy's hidden intelligence, and maturity. She was raising the boy, and he still slipped in and out of his "old" act that she could easily do such a thing.

With his caretaker's in a more subdued mood, Antal flashed a huge smile as he hopped out of bed, and quickly dressed. The maid that had carried him in here had been gracious enough to leave his clothes where he could find them. His face went a bit red as he realized that a woman, that was not Kai, had made him ready for bed.

As soon as he was ready, he looked at the two, "I believe the Lady is expecting us to visit with her before we leave her home. Be polite. She took me in without a second thought. She and her servants probably even saved my life. Yes, she has special gifts, but she has always had them, from what I've gathered. She did not make any strange deals with dark gods or demons. I owe her a huge debt, and a good way to start paying it off is for us to treat her well."

The caretakers looked down at Antal, and nodded. Kai finally allowed herself to smile, and gently brush his soft hair with her long fingers. Antal enjoyed the brief moment, and then went back to the business at hand. He turned, and led them out of the room, and into the parlor in which Bretina was awaiting them.

Once inside, Bartimer and Kai both apologized for their fears, and began thanking her profusely for saving Antal from what "surely must have been certain death". They switched between their Sorrys and their Thank Yous.

All the while, Antal stood at the window. He felt a bit saddened that they were embarassing Bretina, but he felt she might have need of this practice of dealing with people. There seemed to be a strange change in the air outside. Something from far off, and yet very near. He knew not what to expect, but he had a hunch that there would be many tears, and too many children having to grow up very quickly.
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Postby The Messenger » Sat Mar 26, 2005 10:38 am

"Reathin?"

"Confirmed. The Princess was involved, and another point of interest."

"And where is she going?"

"You're asking me to predict her path? I doubt even Secrets knows that one."

"Careful precious. You must learn that some names shouldn't be dropped so casually. As for predicting the course of our dear Elementalist...even if we cannot grasp what goes on within her mind we may derrive much from the ripples that her movements create. Use the boy, if you must take a point of refference. Entanglements leave clearer patterns. The Sword of Rain itself may prove a most adequate method of controlling the uncontainable...in the meanwhile, make the preparations for the winterfair event. We must be prepared for our guests, especially the Seer."

"You have something in mind for her?"

"Doesn't everyone, by now?"
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Postby Six » Sat Mar 26, 2005 11:11 am

Six regarded the boy thoughtfully for a long moment, never letting the aura of command fade or flicker from her demeanor. "Heh." she replied, turning to leave. Carrying Senken's precious blade out with her, she paused in the doorway. "Yeah, you could know my name. Hell, just about anybody could."

"Get some sleep, kid. You'll need it."

And with that, she shut the door behind her and was gone leaving only the faintest trace of spellcraft behind her. A warm, cloying air to inspire drowsiness and rest.
~~~~~
Attending to Lilu'a was a simple enough task, though whether it met Senken's expectations was both unknown and in Six's mind irrelevant. She opened the earth, and let it take the corpse. The work of moments and magic. The grave was marked by the stone, and into this Six engraved the half-elf's name and a common enough blessing.

It was better than some people had or would recieve.

Elsewhere, there were orders to be given. Matters to attend, in the question of other graves and the tattered state of the port itself. Things were more generally in order than in chaos by this point, and much would take care of itself without her direct interference. Six returned to the Inferno and her cabin there.

She set the Sword of Rain in one of the several empty mounts arrayed along the walls. There it would stay, at least for the time being.

All that remained until morning, was to sleep.
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Postby Myra » Mon Mar 28, 2005 10:13 pm

She'd been awakened precisely on schedule and had quite happily washed away all the grime and salt of more than a day's worth of travel. Mojag had attended to her in his usual detached manner, offering her a robe when she was finished bathing and helping her to dry her hair while she selected a suitable gown. The deep green dress accented the color of her eyes beautifully and bore a very modestly cut neckline, long sleeves, and full skirts. Once her hair was dry enough, she pulled it up into a respectable bun, plaiting the hair before twisting and pinning it up. Myra frowned at her reflection in the vanity mirror once she was ready. Even with the matronly garments, she still looked far too young to hold a position of much power in her home government. She only hoped that the Council would believe that her apparent youth also meant that she would be more likely to speak the truth.

"Mojag, see to it that Justin is ready to attend the meeting." Her servant frowned at her reflection but upon seeing the unwavering look in her eyes turned to do her bidding. Once he had closed the door behind him, she took several deep breaths. She very badly desired to toy with the servants here as she did at home. Even moreso, she longed to practice her favored arts on the nobility who led this pathetic country. Of course, Lusoth wouldn't allow such actions. She'd learned just before her departure from Yugaron that the Eyes of Lusoth had long been roaming Phaeretii. Considering his uncanny knowledge of just how to act and where to strike, Myriana was not surprised. She had not troubled herself with much knowledge beyond what she had needed to advance herself, so the Lady had not bothered to look beyond the borders of her country. Now that she had achieved the position of Chief Aide, little tidbits like who were Yugaron's spies would be vital to learn.

Myra stood and walked from her guest chambers, making sure that her face bore no signs of her inner turmoil before opening her door. The servant who had led her to her room was approaching and nodded when he saw her. With a simple gesture, he led her towards the Council's Meeting Room. Mojag and Justin were patiently awaiting her arrival, Justin looking every bit the proper court writer, and Mojag still looking upset with her for dismissing him to attend to the scribe. The guards standing on either side of the doors very briefly allowed their eyes to wander over her before they regained their composure and opened the doors inward. A page stepped in ahead of her.

"Lady Myriana Svetos of Yugaron." She fixed her face into a look of concern with a touch of gratitude. With calculated, yet infinitely graceful strides, she moved towards the three vacant chairs at the Council's tables. Once she was the accepted ten paces from the central seat, and dropped into a low curtsy, bowing her head and sweeping her arms outward palm up. She had long ago taught herself all of the courtly bows and curtsies, and she knew well that this one was a sign of apology as well as a request for mercy from a superior. She remained in her submissive pose until she could hear the uncomfortable rustlings of the Councilmen and the High Councilman spoke up.

"Lady Svetos, please rise." She effortlessly stood back up and took her seat, motioning for Justin to sit on her right and Mojag on her left.

"I come to my Lords with several apologies I fear." Her hands worried over each other as her brow creased into a worried frown. "I apologize first for the sudden nature of my arrival. Under normal circumstances, I would have sent word ahead, but I left Dornaron in quite a hurry." She opened her mouth as if to explain that further, but then closed it and took a deep breath to steady herself. This acting job was going fairly well thus far, though she wasn't sure how well she could maintain this facade of caring once the Council began speaking to her.

"I also apologize for my request that I have these two attend the meeting with me. I had hoped it wouldn't be any trouble. You see, my servant insists on accompanying me everywhere, and I haven't the heart to deny him, but he's an illiterate mute, and my Lord Lusoth required dictation of the meeting for his records. Justin is his favored scribe." She flashed the young man a pleased smile, her demeanor shifting slightly before she launched into her reason for being in Phaeretii at all.

"Unfortunately, my main purpose here today is to apologize for something far more grievous. Yesterday morning, my Lord Lusoth woke to terrible news. His Chief Advisor had disappeared, several thousand in gold was missing from the treasury, and a company of his guardsmen had not reported to duty. Upon further investigation, we learned that Kurt Wels had paid a mercenary ship to carry the armed company to Reathin." Her lips curled into a delicate frown of displeasure and her eyes scanned the faces of the men before her as if pleading for them to understand. "There has been growing concern of late in our capitol that rogues and miscreants were travelling along the trade routes to infiltrate our country, and perhaps even your own, in the hopes of starting a war. That is why we've been closing down our borders. We had no way of knowing that someone of such stature within our government had already been compromised." Myriana looked at the High Councilor, her eyes misting over before she blinked away the growing tears.

"As soon as we learned what had happened, Lord Lusoth sent me here to Krysthian in hopes that we would be able to prevent any hostile actions. Please be assured that Kurt Wels is being hunted and will be punished should he be found. As for the turncoats who took orders from someone other than their General, your country is welcome to do with them as you please should any still live." She bit her lower lip as if surprised at the vehemence that had slipped into her final remark. "You'll have to excuse me. I have slept very little since I left Dornaron, and this situation has upset me greatly. I am still trying to deal with the betrayal of my home and the breaking of my Lord's word in the form of the Crusifal Pact."

The Lady lowered her eyes and fell silent. There was not much else she could say unless the Council chose to address her and ask questions. Only the soft scraping of quill on paper broke the silence as she awaited their response.
So far so good cause no one knows I'm faking
I wish I could show you the toll it's taking
Sometimes I live as if there's no tomorrow
So far so good
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Postby Elijah Morteron » Thu Mar 31, 2005 3:09 pm

The High Regent stood to make his reply "Your apology is accepted Lady Svetos, we understand that matters were out of your Lord's hands, but reparations will have to be made for the destruction caused at Reathin. My clerk will prepare a report and invoice for Lord Lusoth's attention." He then sat himself back down and opened his hands to either side as a sign that the matter was open to the other regents to comment on.

Elijah looked at the others, his cursory glance taking in the red face and tight jaw of Illian, the quiet relaxed expression of Xavier and the High Regent's own placid visage, before his gaze came to rest on the Lady of Yugaron.

He tapped his hand twice on the table and then stood, the tapping a sign that he would speak, but instead of keeping his place behind the crescent, he moved over to the other side and casually leaned on the table itself, his eyes never leaving Myriana.

"My dear Lady Svetos. Perhaps thy Lord Lusoth would be best to more closely supervise his aides, for if he was indeed wise and careful, this matter would not have escaped his notice for so long."

He raised his hand to prevent a response, then continued, his eyes burning, his lip curled. He wanted to provoke a response, or at the least let her know she had not so easily fooled him with her act. "It strikes me as odd that Lord Lusoth would not have known of such a matter earlier. Perhaps his guards should be replaced, or perhaps he needs to rethink the measure of his own abilities." He paused letting her mull over this.

A polite cough from Xavier was meant as a warning, but he ignored it "I can see however that this matter obviously has the lord of Yugaron's full attention, so much so that he has been kind enough to send us a girl to make his peace. I in truth, in his place, would of course have made that same decision." His manner was still offhand, but the expression that she could see on his face would have revealed to her the latent sarcasm in his words.

Xavier however, ever vigilant, had spotted the slight, and a second cough issued from behind Lord Morteron's back.

But Elijah had one last word to say. "Lady Svetos, I'm sure I speak for the other regents when I say this, that we are wholly overwhelmed by your presence this night, and that your apology and it's manner are wholly accepted." He smiled wickedly. "Be sure to inform Lord Lusoth that we shall bear it in mind, and that if, somehow, one of his towns burns and a hundred of his people lay dead and it seems that we are responsible, we shall be sure to send one of our stable boys to make the peace with him. Good night Lady Svetos"

He turned and made his way back round the table, all the time aware off the burning gaze of the High Regent, he could expect a dressing down later. But it had been worth it. As he had asked no direct questions, by convention Lady Svetos had been forbidden from making a reply.

Back in his seat he half listened as the High Regent bid farewell to the Lady and her retinue. There was much to do. Things he had to learn.

*****

He sighed as he removed his robes and placed them carefully over the back of his chair. He was surprised to find the letters he had drafted gone, but reasoned that some over zealous page, eager for the extra gold, had taken it upon himself to deliver them that evening, rather than at dawn.

He was further surpised to find a letter in reply from the Grey Lark Estates. He tore it open eagerly, then realised his haste and slowed, pulling the letter from it's envelope.

His eyes scanned the text, a genuine smile lighting his usually sombre expression. Quickly he penned a response and arranged for a messenger.

He would attend the winter fair, he had written that it would be his honour to accompany her and that he would meet her at the estates the morning of the fair and take her there himself. He enquired on her health and that of the boy, Antal and signed it simply Elijah.

He removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes, yawning with exhaustion. A stretch elicited a groan when he felt a muscle in his shoulder, damaged by an old wound, pull painfully.

Tomorrow would be a busy day. He needed his rest. And with that thought he retired to bed, and the endless dreams.
"I give hope to men, I keep none for myself."
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Postby Bretina » Mon Apr 25, 2005 9:24 pm

It had been strangely difficult to see Antal leave with his caretakers yesterday morning. True, she had invited them all to return for visits whenever they desired to do so, but she had almost grown accustomed to having someone else in her house again. To have developed so simple and yet evident a bond with a young boy as quickly as she had surely spoke of how long she had lived without companionship other than with her serving staff. Maybe that was the reason she had been so eager to invite Lord Morteron to accompany her to the Winterfair.

"Elijah," she softly corrected herself. After all, she remembered with a slight flush, that was how he had signed his most recent letter. She had quickly written a response, letting him know that all was well and that Antal had returned to his foster home. She had also included a reminder that this event was a masqued affair so that he would know to dress accordingly. Of course, she still had no idea what she would be wearing. For the past several hours she had been sitting in front of her wardrobe, staring wistfully at all of her clothing. She had worked so hard to maintain a closet that only showed the barest hints of her wealth that she lacked anything that might resemble party wear. She certainly didn't have anything remotely impressive, though she would never admit to herself that she wanted to impress anyone. It was far too late to cancel now. The fair was tomorrow, and she did not wish to appear rude to her host or to her companion.

"My lady?" Bretina whipped her head around, startled by Ruth's voice. She'd been so intent on her own thoughts that she hadn't even heard the maid enter her room.

"Yes, Ruth? Is everything alright?" Bretina gracefully moved to her feet and closed the doors of her wardrobe. She would decide what to wear later. Even if she couldn't manage fancy dress, at least she would be attending an event that wasn't on her own grounds.

"Oh everything is just fine, my lady," the maid tried to supress a smile. "It's just that, the other girls and I noticed you were having some difficulty picking an outfit." Bretina smiled guiltily.

"You know me well, Ruth. I've not gone to any formal get togethers since I was a child, and those dresses are long gone. Not that any of them would fit me now."

"We were thinking that as well, and then an idea occurred to us." Ruth smiled proudly, making it quite evident that whatever the idea was, it had been primarily hers. "If the point of a masqued fair is to loook like someone else, perhaps my lady would do well -not- to dress from her own wardrobe." Bretina's brow furrowed thoughtfully.

"Then what would you recommend?"

"Well, you are similar in size to your late Aunt, and not all of her gowns were destroyed when she passed to the next realm." The lady couldn't help but laugh. The idea was genius, though she would feel a little odd wearing all the fancy trinkets and baubles her aunt had lived in.

"Then how about I leave the decisions about what to do with my gown and hair to the maids. I trust you to make me look far more well-to-do than I could stand to make myself." Ruth smiled brightly and offered a quick curtsy before backing out of the room to tell the other girls. Bretina kept laughing for a while after her maid had left. She only hoped that Elijah wouldn't mind seeing her in what was sure to be an overly ostentatious costume.
"Let the dreamers and seers keep watch.
It is what we do."
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Senken: Healing Hell Part 1

Postby Senken » Thu Apr 28, 2005 9:45 pm

Senken could feel himself becoming conscience to the real world around him. His dark and formless dreams faded away to give light to his stinging eyes.
The swelling on one side of his face had started to settle but his sholder stilled rendered his left arm useless. This became even more apparent while struggling to get himself up from the floor to a sitting position.

Senken had a hard time remembering the last time he was in such a state. But Senken's thoughts shifted as he began to recall last nights conversation with the Pirate captin, A women who walked tall and seemingly stood down to no one in her presence. Very commanding indeed.

She had Senken's sword and told him that she would hold onto it until she see fit to return it. As much as Senken disliked this he could not debate the topic for he was in no postion to stand up to her.
Senken knew she could have sold it already for money or what ever a women like that wanted. Perhaps a hot bath. It wouldn't be such a bad thing in her case. As beautiful as she was. The spell of salt air and sea water was very strong. Senken hoped for her sake that she was not always like this.
Senken smiled as he thought of these things with a slight humor.

After a long time of simply sitting there motionless it was time to get up again to try and walk. His blurried vision and dizzy reactions were feelin rather better then previous and thought perhaps he shouldd try once more to stand and walk without aid.

leaning forward and pivoting onto his knees he took a sudden leap of faith and lurched his foot up and down to the floor balancing on his other knee. So far so good he thought. but this was the real test.
With all of his energy he put his weight on his foot and leaned forward again pushing himself upwards to a stand.

For what felt like minutes Senken stood there in a rather bent stance trying to keep still as possible until he figured out his limitations. But after a while he realized that he was doing better then expected and began to shuffle around the place on his feet until finaly taking half steps. His arm out spread like balancing weights.

"This is enough, I am coming sooner then you expected. I will take back the Sword of the Rain in due time....."
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Postby Elijah Morteron » Wed May 04, 2005 6:22 am

Elijah watched the sun set, the light catching the buildings below him in such a way that they seemed to blaze in reds and golds. He could not shake the nightmare of the last night. Again and again he had seen the lands burning and people in chains, his own hands tied by a serpent behind his back.

The regent had denied his request that an old law be reinstated. A law concerning the personal levy of troops that a Lord was once entitled to raise. That had made his plans more difficult and now meant that he had to shift round in the shadows more than he had hoped.

It hadn't helped that all the day before he had been tied up with petitions ranging from farming disputes to lobbying on taxes. That was all people seemed to be concerned about, land and money. There were more important concerns, least of which was the proposed bill he had on support for the poor, a bill that had been placed on the back burner, not that it had much chance of being pushed through anyways.

He needed an army, and one that he could keep hidden from the others, at least until it was needed. A foreign force of mercenaries. Kotoa, the Imrani Islands or perhaps Salasia. All would be suitable in one way or another, but he'd decided on Salasia in the end. The Salasians were originaly Phaeratiian settlers and had declared their independance three hundred years before. There were still common ties there however, many nobles of each country were at least cousins of each other, and many there had fought for Phaeratii in the last war.

He'd also recieved a bonus yesterday, a ship that had sailed from Faraan bearing a final letter carried by his lawyer's youngest son and three crates. The letter had explained that the lawyer had done all he could to meet his wishes and asked Elijah to care for his last child. He'd sent the boy by carriage that night to Hepple Manor with intructions to Hemlin to place the boy in one of the larger guest rooms. It was the least he could do. The crates contained more than enough of his wealth from Yugaron in solid gold bars. Enough for his needs.

Today had been spent buying a small six gun caravel for his passage to Salasia after the Winterfair and employing a good gunsmith and his team and setting them up in a warehouse in Crusifal, with extra money to bind their tongues. He'd also perused a tailors and after careful deliberation had paid the man to make alterations to a hunting outfit so that when done it would resemble the outfit of the outlaw Guchon in greens and brown with an emerald green mask to match.

The Winterfair. He was more excited to attend that than he had been to attend any other public function before. Perhaps it was the chance of escape for one day from all of this. But he knew that at least part of the excitement was for the company he would be sharing. The saying that it was lonely at the top was more true than people usually understood.

He returned to the room closing the balocony door behind him and picked up the letter she had sent from his desk. The letter she had signed simply Bretina. He smiled as he reread it for perhaps the fourth time, scrutinizing it as if he had missed something before. A knock at his chamber door brought him out of his reverie and he dropped the letter as if it had been on fire.

"Yes?" He said, then checked the tone in his voice realising the irritation that had been evident in his voice.

There was no answer so he called again but was once more answered with silence. Cursing under his breathe he started for the door but just before his hand reached the handle he stopped. He thought quickly, then after only a moments pause stepped to the side of the door and then turned the handle.

There was a loud bang and where his chest would have been the door had been blasted open casting splinters of wood everywhere, the bullets ending up in the back wall. In the few moments that it took for him to regain his composure and cast open the door the would be assassin had seemingly vanished into thin air.

"Guards! Guards! Assassin!" He shouted and heard and answering rush of booted feet.

The Winterfair, it seemed, was not going to be as relaxing as he had thought.
"I give hope to men, I keep none for myself."
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Postby Lusoth Gorsynth » Thu May 12, 2005 6:29 pm

He slowly pushed the curling lock from his face and stared at the names on the list again. His couriers had been unsuccessful in locating the man simply known as Jylan. He had heard rumors of the deeds the man had accomplished, but had never met him in person. It would prove to be an interesting meeting if it ever occured.

Lusoth placed the leaflet on his desk and rose to his full height. The medial tasks had begun to bore him and his thirst for entertainment crept into his mind. Myriana was not here to toy with. Oh, how he loved to toy with her mind, and yet he knew he was dancing with the an incarnation of the devil. He grinned to himself wondering what type of mischief she had caused on her maiden voyage. He chuckled aloud amused by his word choice. Maiden. He shook his head and called into the hallway.

"Kendrel," Lusoth half-expected it to be another to poke his head into the room.

"Yes, m'lord?"

"Have the lawyer brought to my conversation room," he smirked again. "I think it is time we finally had our chat. Oh, please do not forget the family. I would like them in attendance as well."

"Yes, m'lord," Kendrel nodded and turned down the corridor toward the dungeon.

Lusoth cracked his neck and went to change into something much more comfortable. This was going to be a long night. He grinned again.
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Postby Myra » Thu May 12, 2005 11:17 pm

"The insolence! I should have that bastard's head by now. Curse Lusoth and his damned rules! Has Justin finished writing a note of sufficient ire and offense to the High Regent?" Mojag nodded silently from his post at Myriana's door. The Lady nodded curtly in return. "Then we leave now. If we stay even an hour longer, I may try something I'll be forced into regreting later." She slenched her jaw, then took a deep breath. She had every right to look angry and insulted, but the cruel wishes lying behind her eyes certainly didn't match the persona she was expected to display. Once she had calmed sufficiently, she signaled to her servant to grab her things and follow her to the carriage that was waiting outside.

"Are you certain we weren't too kind to them, my lady. After all, for a diplomat to be treated with such disrespect is completely unacceptable." Myra nodded, seemingly swallowing her hurt before speaking as she took his offered hand to climb inside the carriage.

"We must not hold these people to our standards. After all, their ways are obviously much different than those of our home. If they think insulting my abilities as a lady of court and a diplomat is allowable, then we'll simply have to refrain from giving them the opportunity to do so." Once inside, she turned her face from the capital building, refusing to give it a second glance. She only knew that the men had joined her by the sounds of their weight coming to rest on the unwilling benches within. In silence, the coach moved away from the enemy's center of power, and it killed Myra to think that while there, she had done nothing to even toy with the weak fools.

'The journey home will be torture.' The Lady stifled a sigh, curling her fingers to dig her nails into her palms. A supressed shiver moved through her body as the pressure of her nails increased. Little by little the tension drained from her body. Only after several moments passed did she even hear the worried voice of her scribe and feel her servant's hands prying her bleeding fists open to bind them with strips of cloth from his shirt.

"Oh! Dear me, thank you, gentlemen." She forced a frown of confusion for Justin's sake and consented to his petting and fawning. He had no way of knowing that her hands would heal before they even reached the port in Yugaron, and if nothing else, the attention would provide a satisfying distraction for at least a few hours of the journey.

'Besides, he only has to make it back to Dornaron alive and in one piece. Lusoth never said he had to stay that way after he's turned in his report.' She licked her lips and grinned, looking at the young man before her with a new set of eyes. A slow conquest would work best on this one, but it would be enjoyable and eventually a pleasant way to take out her frustrations from the journey.
So far so good cause no one knows I'm faking
I wish I could show you the toll it's taking
Sometimes I live as if there's no tomorrow
So far so good
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Postby Elijah Morteron » Wed Aug 03, 2005 9:02 am

Elijah hefted the gun in his hands, then checked the firing mechanism before peering down the barrel. It was good work, especially in such a short time.

Returning it he listened patiently as the head of his team of gunsmiths, a large barrel chested man with a shaven head and keen blue eyes, explained the rudiments of the procedures used to make the weapon. He smiled in satisfaction when the man said that they could 'bang out' ten such guns a week and twice that if they had a larger furnace and a few boys to lend a hand.

He let the silence hang for a moment as if he was thinking through all the information he had been given, then levelled his gaze on the man. "I want a hundred in five days, no longer."

"But my lord we..."

Elijah raised a hand to halt the man's words. "You will have the men you need Cale. I have also purchased the largest smithy in the town, they'll 'bang out' the chambers you need, that'll just leave you with the mechanisms and final assembly."

He waited until the man nodded his understanding, then continued. "After you have completed the first batch, I want them crated and sent by wagon to Port Ellindon, my man Hemlin will be waiting for them there at The Speared Ox. Understood?"

"Yes my Lord."

"Good... do not fail me Cale. What has been given can be taken back, with interest." With that the Lord of Hepple Manor walked out of his makeshift armoury and strode over to his carriage, alighting with a nod to his guards and a curt "Onwards" to his driver.

*****

As the carriage rocked gently on it's journey to the Grey Lark Estates, Elijah thought on the assassination attempt and on his conversation with the High Regent. Of course he knew the High Lord of the council would not recall Lady Svetos, but by being loud and outspoken in his accusations, he knew that whoever had really ordered the attack would relax a little.

At first he had been sure the Lady of Yugaron had been responsible, but further thought had made it obvious that she had not. Myriana Svetos was too subtle for such a brash attempt. Poison, or a slender knife in the dark, that was more her style he was certain. He was also pretty certain of the real culprit.

Soon he would unmask the traitor, but he had to be careful, he needed to know what support that person had, and how high the treachery reached.

He turned his mind away from the matter and concentrated on his other plans. After the Winterfair there was Salasia, and dependent on the success of that mission he would have to secure transport for the force. There was one place he could be sure of finding enough ships. A place where the men held no allegiance except to the man that paid them.

It would soon be time for a homecoming.
"I give hope to men, I keep none for myself."
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Postby Senken » Wed Aug 03, 2005 1:11 pm

The day was becoming long and tiring the moment Senken had hit the open streets after leaving the old inn which looked more like an abandoned building with all the damage made to it's once clean appearence.

The the rest of the surrounding buildings and dock area was much the same. Shops and houses were either holed by cannon fire or blackened by flame. The air was still thick with ash and many houses still burned from the attack that started a little over a day ago.

As Senken made his away towards the harbor he found himself rather puffed forcing himself to make several short stops along the way. By the time he reached the fishery he needed to walk with the aid of his good arm following the wood board walls of various shop fronts.
Soon then he wished his body started to get the better of him. Senken stopped in a broken doorway to a small butchery that looked to have been sacked during the attack. Slumping down opon the entrence step he rested and checked the freash wrapping he quickly prepared for his wound that had been made by a musket shot two nights ago.

Senken had never been shot before and even now that he had he finds it hard to understand why such a small hole in his sholder should cause so much pain and lack of use in his arm.

"Weapons such as these are for cowards and weaklings who can not face anyone in real combat."

Senken rested his head back agaist the door way and thought back to a time not so long ago when he was in his home lands. Muskets and pistols were a rare sight in his Kotoa'.
It was these thoughts that inspired him to rise again to reclaim his lost sword.
He felt that he was in some way betraying the women who took his sword away from him by tring to take it back so soon after she had apparently saved him. But there was more he had to know from her.

After several moments of trying to get back on his feet and then aided by a passing stranger Senken continued his slow walk down to the dock in order to find the ship his sword is now possibly on and how to get it back with out causing trouble.

Senken was not with out any plan though. Working on the docks with the fisherman and loading and unloading cargo had made him a few friends. One such friend was a young man only a few years older then Senken. His name was Larkson but was know better as Larky. Senken got along with Larky quiet well over the last couple of mouths.

Wondering along the vastly damaged harbor, with it's fishing boats and visiting ships all a little worse for ware with some ships even half or fully sunk. the destruction is going to hurt the town badly Senken thought as he looked on. Then suddenly he spots his friend.

There Larky was standing on the dock looking over his father's fishing boat with a sad face, shaking his head.
Senken hobbled he way towards him. Larky turned and became quiet shocked to see Senken is such bad shape.

"So who'd given you a bit of a biff'in Suma my boy!"

Senken replied with a sarcastic half grin and signaled Larky with his finger to his lips to hush down a little. Larky shook his head and shrugged looking back to his fathers boat.

"You'd know. You'd be better off in one of those sick bed houses up the street. Even the old inn up the road is holding sick and wounded at the moment. Maybe you'd better seek out some help up there maybe..."

"I need your help."

Larky turned his attention.

"What'd be going on then Suma?"

"Point to the ship that landed it's men and fought off the invasion troops."

Larky a little confused but un-swayed pointed out to the middle of the harbor to a modest old ship at anchor. Senken then asked if he could get out there on a small boat.

"Sure Suma, I was out there having a fish and a bit of a look see early this morning. There isn't all that many people on board at the moment. Some of them are on the land helping out or gathering supplies futher in town. Why you'd want to go out there?"

"I need to get aboard that ship to speak with the captin. It's very importaint."

Some how Senken was not convinced that Larky was all that willing to simply accept his word just because he saids its importaint.

"Sounds fishy to me Suma. But hell, seeing you being thrown over board is worth a laugh to me so lets go."

Larky jumped from the edge of the dock down into a small boat that was tied to his fathers ship and then stood there looking back up at Senken with a large grin.

Senken stepped off and down into the boat landing with a thud, falling over himself. Luck would have it, that the fall had not bumped his injured sholder. Larky seemed to be as care free as ever and through care to the wind are usual. laughing at Senken as he began to row out into the harbor.

Within the the a hour the small little boat made it to the big old ship. Those on board waved to Larky indicating that some of them knew him. Proably from the pirate filled bars to which Larky had made a name for himself as a good drinker.
Senken kept his head down and prepared a fishing pole for his on lookers.

"Could you row the boat to the stern I wish to get near the captins quarters or see if there is a way on board if possible."

"I knew'd it! You are going to sneek on. It's the sword isn't it. I see'd the female captin yesterday on the docks with a sword like yours. She took it from you didn't she, ha ha ha!"

"Shut up, some one will hear you, you fool."

Larky covered his mouth tring to conseal his laughter. He was looking forward to seeing his foolish friend attempt to get on board and take his sword from the new captin. A women Larky had heard much about in recent years unknown to Senken.

Reaching the stern of the ship and it's large over hanging cabin areas Senken looked on for ways onto the ship and possible ways off. Then he spotted it. An open set of windows some seven feet up from them.

"Sorry old Suma my mate. I didn't bring a rope for you to hung your self with. Thats the captins study in there I believe. If you got in there; being hung you'd be. Ha ha ha ha!"

Senken stood up slowly to gain some sort of balance. Then with a sharp grin towards Larky he look skywards. Taping his right foot on the flat floor of the boat. "One, two and three."

Senken focused all of his energy he could muster. Leaping to low roof tops and leaping across them should not be any harder then this he thougt to himself.
And with one almighted thump of his foot his legs bent and sprung upwards shotting him up into the air. Larky's face was in horror. First at Senken's massive jump and then at the hole in the floor of his boat Senken's leap had left behind.

Senken right foot landed on the ledge of the large open windows his good arm grabbing the top arch and pulled himself into the cabin. Senken hit the floor but could not get back up.
The jump and the landing had torn his wound and a red spot began to grow through his kimono.

to be continued....
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