To Rule the Realm [O/A, Check our 'Positions Needed'!]

[Starlight Flower]

Location:Nearing Vilbourg (Balvestel)
Company:Alone
Mood:Exhausted, sore, and disgusted
Music: inspirational Music for Post

During her short stay in the infirmary, Kalisa had grown fond of the head nurse. Not only did the woman look out for the injured but also, as much as she could, care for the hungry, the tired and the lost. A bucket with relatively clean lukewarm water, food and a clean and a simple second-hand dress was offered to Kalia. In her travels, she preferred pants but she wasn’t about to decline an offer of clean clothing.

It took less than an hour to remove most of the grime from her body. Bits of dried mud had managed to tangle in her hair and she knew it would be impossible to remove without a larger body of water. Making a mental note of locating a natural water source later, Kalisa dressed and finished the small rations of bread, cheese and milk that were provided to her.

Feeling more comfortable, Kalisa returned to the head nurse. She spoke a few words of thanks before heading deeper into the town. The young fae did not hesitate to join in the festivities within the town of Vilbourg. As long as her ears remained hidden, she could conceal her true heritage. The music, dancing and laughter diverted her attention from the true reasons for the celebration. Naively, the young fae moved deeper into the town. She had, momentarily, forgot about the differences between where she came from and where she was now.

As the day moved on, she had noticed the energy of the celebration dwindling. More and more rough faced people appeared in front of her. These people were different than the hard faced loggers she had laughed with earlier. These men and women had the same cold expressions she saw on the soldiers in the Wades. She was not the only one that was uncomfortable with their presence. It seemed that most of the civilians had deep frowns set upon their brows.

After quietly listening to a few conversations, Kalisa came to find that the people were ordered to move north away from the Arbor forces. Order to leave their home. The town was being evacuated of all civilians. Kalisa silently cursed herself. She should have left long ago. It would be difficult to go anywhere that went against flow of refugees without being noticed.

The sounds of the town changed dramatically over the next few hours. The music was replaced with the sound of crates being loaded onto wooden wagons. The laughter was replaced with clucking chickens and agitated horses. The dancing was replaced with frantic movements of mothers gathering up their children. The entire atmosphere of the town had changed in a matter of hours.

”Kalisa! There you are! I have been searching for you!”

Kalisa turned to find the head nurse dragging along a stubborn mare. The fae looked confused but made her way through the bustling crowd to her new friend.

“Have you heard? We have to head north. Everyone south of us are being forced this way. The town is going to be too crowded, too much of a burden for the soldiers. The bloody tree beasts are forcing us from our homes.”

Kalisa flinched at the woman’s last statement and couldn’t help but feel the anger rise in her. She, however, remained calm. There was no sense in defending her people in a town that was solely populated by those who were at war with them. It would be suicidal to give away her position.

“I have heard.” She finally answered, calming her nerves. “You are to go then?”

“I am requested in Weissenburg. A few doctors are being brought down here for the soldiers. I am not needed here.”

“Winifred,” Kalisa was cautious on how she worded her question. “The men and women from the battle in the Wades. Do you know if they made it?” Kalisa mind couldn’t help but drift back to her encounter with Artesh or the Balvestal soldiers. “And…the Arborans….Have...ummm…have any been….”

The nurse stared at her blankly as Kalisa fumbled over her words. “I do not know how many solider from the Wades made it out. As for the Arboran....” She turned her head slightly to the side and spat into the dirt. “Hopefully most are rotting in their muddy graves. Any that were taken alive were probably taken North into Thornhold.”

Kalisa was surprised to find that the woman even mentioned that some Arborans could have been taken alive. ”Thornhold? Why?” Kalisa asked with great concern.

“There are many rumors going around. Can’t be sure which ones are true. Some say that they are publicly executed or imprisoned for their crimes. Some even go as far as saying they are being used for experiments or even eaten. I figure most are made to frighten young children. Nothing you should be worrying about. A pretty lady like you should be focused on finding yourself a handsome husband and settling down…You know. The basic human things.”

Kalisa found herself frowning again. “Of course. Basic human things.” She repeated.

“I came to find you because I know you are alone; separated from your family. My horse was made for carrying medical supplies from town to town. I want you to come with me. We might be able to connect you with your family there.”



**********




Hours past and a small group of refugees made their way to the south entrance of Weissenburg. Already the group had been picked through for potential fighters for the war. Kalisa had managed to go unnoticed simply because of her position next to a medical practitioner. Yet she kept her caution up. She was no longer in an area with an easy escape route. She would have to play this one out.

“Winifred, where is the closest portal?”

“Why do you need a portal? Where are you to go? You are safest here. Our lord will protect you.”

”I just….” She really had no answer. She couldn’t say that she wished to return to Arbor. What could she say? Thinking on the spot, Kalisa grabbed for whatever she could. “My family spoke of moving west if we were split up. We have some relatives in Ekhrash. It would probably be safer to travel by portals than by foot.” She lied. The nurse watched her closely before nodding.

Minutes past and they finally moved through the gates of the city. Kalisa’s eyes grew three times their size as she stared at the overwhelming differences between her cities and the one in Balvestal. She hadn’t even reached the richest part of the province yet.

[Trapdoor Spider]

Khaz'r
Demonologist

[Location]XXX Ekhrashian Capitol, nearby Palace Gates
[Companions] Hanne Vane

"A half-century?" came the darkly cloaked man's voice. It was both inquisitive and incredulous. He was taken aback by the sudden fact that this man may be quite a bit older than he seemed. Khaz'r had noticed the somewhat otherworldly quality to the man, yet he had not quite accounted for his age. As well, half a century ago. Fifty years. There was a quietness from Khaz'r rather suddenly, a silence punctuated by a stillness in his posture. He still moved, but was almost gliding. Fifty years. That was a long time to consider, even for Khaz'r. He was still young back then. Had he yet learned the Name now haunting his mind that long ago? He glanced back at Hanne through his mask. He looked so familiar, yet the sands of time had worn down his memory of those early years. Mostly for the better.

"An old church for an old priest perhaps?" he asked, more leading then actually questioning. He slowly began with a word to guide Hanne. Khaz'r had been active in the deserts for many years, and had visited many towns, cities, and springs that had popped up all through them. He knew many secret ways, passages, and occult followings. Holy Orders and righteous men. He knew many of them, and they knew him. Khaz'r provided them help, and in turn they gave him knowledge and money for his services. It wasn't a matter if Khaz'r could guide one to a church, it was simply a matter of which one was needed. The man was old, it seemed, and yet he also seemed wide eyed and curious like a child. Fifty years is a long time, and if true much would have changed, yet much would have stayed the same as well. He carefully guided him to a church he knew would have been up for much longer than that. Perhaps something familiar for him. The Father in charge was also quite taken with giving handouts of food and drink.

[QueenArasene]

Who: Lord Faelorn of Trae, Spriggley Spugward, ????
Where: A clearing in southern Arbor
What: ......

With exaggerated care, Faelorn took a step back. The tree in the middle of the clearing, the one that he was sure hadn't been there before... that tree stood there. It looked very innocent. Inviting, even. He couldn't trust it. A tree that sprung up from nothing was unnatural. Better not to get closer. Another step backward. His breath came shorter, anxious. There was fear in the air. He could smell it. It was his own. Again, a step backward. Onto a different surface. Wood. Wood? He froze. It should have been grass. The hairs on his neck rose. A scent of mold. Came from everywhere. His eyes darted back and forth. Nothing different in the clearing. Just the tree. He stepped to the side, carefully. Tree under his feet again. A shiver went through him. Very carefully, the young lord looked down. Under his feet was a patch of old wood. Possibilities spun through his mind. One marked itself out. Oh shi-... "Aurgh!"

Silence.

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Half an hour later, a rabbit carefully advanced into the tall grass in the clearing. The grass was delicious, and it called out for its friends to join it. Normal forest life set in again.

[EpiXfailure]

Durandel:

Well it appeared that the leader of the group was here. They weren't attacking so it seemed like they weren't bandits fortunately enough. Durandal would power down his battle armor and leave reavealing himself in his ball of light.

"You seem like the leader of your little group. I'm Durandal, I'm the leader of Hollows Hold in Gethen Meaer. You wouldn't know it but I lead 30 percent of the population of Gethen Meaer." Durandal said in response to this Alma-Diah. She seemed to be a kindred spirit as she took out some parchment and seemed to be prepared to take notes on whatever Durandal said.

"First off, I would like you to note that Undead has been agreed on as an offensive terminology to refer to one that has deceased once and had reanimated. Proper terminology we use is Ever-living, as to denote a second life. As for our intelligence there are more like us though sparsely populated. They tend to be the leaders of groups. As for how long I have been speaking personally...I can't say precisely." Durandal explained, filling in any details. It seemed almost like an informative lecture. Durandal pondered on her other questions. One was about the Ak'Keld skeletons. Not his faction but he knew about it in general.

"That must be one of the forward scouts or defense camps. You see, we had a problem with a necromancer a few years ago. In order to defend ourselves from future attack we wanted to scout out the area and have forewarning of attacks.....Sorry for the inconvenience" Durandal said, remembering his discussion with the other factional leader. Durandal wasn't opposed to that proposal.

"Well I'm not leaving....more warning you First-life folk. After the necromancer attack, one of the major leaders, and a good friend......was rather inconvenienced. My other good friend, the third major leader has vowed eternal vengeance on "The Living" and is mustering war strength. I came here so you "Living" folk can combine strength and possibly deter a war. After that I can mediate peace talks between our two groups and merry along no one is inconvenienced. My friend is rather mad, and probably knows about my betrayal. I left Hollow's Hold in capable hands and here I am. Here to assist you 'Living' folk so we of the 'Ever-Living' don't suffer from over population!" Durandal said rather cheerfully.

[Unseen_Paine!]

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Sαkαrí
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thє fínαncíαl wizard tab tab tab tab tab wαtєr mαgє єхtrασrdínαírє tab tab tab tab tab αt чσur sєrvícє

The Duchess opened by making a slight commentary of wanting to do the rearranging of his palace herself. It made Sakari quirk an eyebrow, both at the somewhat scandalous nature of the comment, and at the Duchess’ sudden lack of subtlety. From what he had seen of her, she far preferred the delicate innuendo than the quick bluntness of such direct comments. Of course, the reason came a moment later when, after Casmaeri’s polite introduction of herself, she responded with a scathing indictment of how Inappropriate such an arrangement would be.

Already the accusations had been leveled, and the Duchess was taking the role of the aggressor, making certain to make known Exactly how she thought about it, and exactly how in the wrong she felt Sakari was. Of course, that kind of thinking had never sat too well with Sakari. Not when he was watching his grandfather work. Not when he had been building his empire. And Certainly not when he was the Lord of a Province.

He moved his feet apart to shoulder width and locked eyes with Catherine, letting his quirked eyebrow take on a tone of amused offense as she finished her diatribe. "Pardon Me, Duchess Delacour. Perhaps I’ve misheard, but it sounded as if you were accusing me of impropriety? I won’t expect you to lower yourself for an apology for what was no doubt a misunderstanding, but I will, Most Certainly Ask You To Keep Yourself Civil." He punctuated his words at the end of his sentence, practically biting each one off as he spoke. He never took his eyes from the Delacour woman, and he kept his own tone respectful throughout. "Now then, if we have that quite taken care of. I will say that, whatever the reason that Prelati may have Said he sent this lovely young woman to Ekhrash, I Am the one who Decides whom I court or do not Court. If she finds the desert air to her liking, then more the better." He smiled then and motioned for everyone to sit. "Is there Something that I can have brought? I’m sure you must be hungry by now." As he spoke he turned to a servant who had made himself available, and requested that the man bring a carafe of hot kaf for all to share, and for the servant to avail himself of something he called the “hottest bread”. He then made himself comfortable upon one of the many cushions available around the table, and motioned for the rest of them to sit. "You must tell me what brought you here originally, and how comfortable you found the journey."

When the Kaf came, it prove to be a very dark and somewhat bitter drink that was served warm, with all present being offered sugar as if it were tea. Sakari filled his own cup first, and took a sip before he motioned for the servant to bring the carafe and cups around. It was all a part of the ritual. Aside from himself pouring. That was Sakari’s own peccadillo. He simply wasn’t comfortable with men and women attending to so small a need in his own house. One he was perfectly capable of himself.

The weapons were being drawn, and the forces had begun to circle one another. A few slings and arrows had been fired, but Battle had not yet been joined in earnest. Each force seemed to be sizing the other one up and waiting for them to make the first move.

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fínd mє αtBarriye x x
mч cσmpαnч ís Catherine, Alex, Tanu and Casmaeri x x
í αm fєєlíng ******** It, Let’s just let the Dice fall where they may. x x

[EpiXfailure]

Alexandria Ha'ardt:
Alex was a bit surprised to be asked about Lirix's assassination. Though she did announce that she helped avenge his death so it was reasonable to ask.

"Well there were three Imperial Knights who were in fact assassins. I was unable to stop the assassination on Lord Lirix. By the time we could do anything he was dead. Lord Sakari was rather instrumental in helping take one of them alive. Oh Lord Sakari-EEEEE?!" Alex said as she turned as the door opened and she saw herself looking at not only Sakari but Casmaeri as well! Wasn't she the sweet heart of Iolaus? Why was she here? Perhaps on a diplomatic mission of sorts?

"Lady Casmaeri, I wasn't expecting you. How is Brother Iolaus doing? Last I heard he was fighting a dragon." Alex said reflexively though would turn to Sakari quickly and gave an apologetic bow.

"My Lord, my apologize. It humbles me to have my name remembered. Because of you we were able to avenge the late lord's death. If you have time later, tell me what you have discovered from the assassin." Alex said as she would stand at Lady Catherine's side. As a knight guard she wasn't allowed to eat or sit but those cushions were tempting. And the idea of food was pleasant as well.

Alex was curious why Casmaeri was here and so was Catherine, though Catherine was much more aggressive in her questioning. Oh boy, Alex was dreading the talk between Sakari and Catherine.

However Sakari mentioned he was courting Casmaeri. This came to a shock. Casmaeri was supposed to be marrying Iolaus. Was he dead? Did the dragon kill him. Alex tried to hide it but her expression was one of worry. Her best friend could possibly be dead. Perhaps Casmaeri knew but now wasn't the proper time to ask. There still had to be relationships to maintain.

[Inuya Shuron]

Tanu Pyroma, Spirit of Fire

"I see." So Sakari didn't seem to have anything to do with it. The man was useful after all. Sakari entered the room, looking as annoying as ever, with this... fair haired woman she's never really seen? OH SO THAT'S Casmaeri. She was... just a bit disappointed.

Sakari why are you wiggling your fingers? For a moment, Tanu forgot, yes she forgot, that he was a Hydrologist. That's when Tanu heard the water next to her left ear and slapped it, glaring at Sakari like 'you ******** b*****d.' As it stood, she had no intention of messing anything up right now. Maybe later? She wasn't sure.

"I'll have you know Lord Sakari, I am not here to '******** things up' I actually am curious about what happened... to Lirix... Other than the fact he was assassinated of course, I know about that part." She looked genuine, for once. She wanted to know exactly what he knew... and if she could, help them find out more.

You'd be surprised at exactly how useful Tanu was. She was an excellent listener and could use her charm to get close to people. Sometimes people were even drawn to her. 'Like a moth to a flame,' the saying goes. Well most likely because of her appearance. Maybe she'd tell the tale of why she chose this one. Maybe. It's a rather good tale to be perfectly honest with you.

Pulling herself from her thoughts, she looked over at Alex. Immediately, concern set itself upon her face and she stood from her pile of pillows and approached the Knight. "Are you okay, Alex? You look... worried..." It was the mother in her... considering she was never really graced with being a mother for more than a few hours, the concern and the motherly affection towards others came and went. She gently placed her hand upon Alex's shoulder. Regardless of the armor she still felt it would help.

[American Duchess]

"Pardon Me, Duchess Delacour. Perhaps I’ve misheard, but it sounded as if you were accusing me of impropriety? I won’t expect you to lower yourself for an apology for what was no doubt a misunderstanding, but I will, Most Certainly Ask You To Keep Yourself Civil."

Sakari took quickly to dissuading such comments and skillfully he flipped the tables on the Duchess in an attempt to make it look bad at her. The entire time they never unlocked eyes, she searched his wondering what was going on in his head. He asked Cathy to be civil, this ticked her off, was he calling her interrogation barbaric now? The nerve of it appalled her, but for the sake of future relations she would not make a comment about it. " Of course, pardon my accusatory behavior, my lord", Catherine had to remember that Sakari was now a lord, and for the moment she was technically below him.

Moving on, Sakari's words confirmed her idea of what this arrangement was, Prelati had practically shipped his sister to Ekhrash to be married, so it was an engagement. She wished it was something diplomatic, but it was not, it was a rather unfavorable development, but that is what it was. Sakari offered them seats, feeling once again disheartened, she took a seat obediently. Having been somewhat Humiliated, she wished to leave, but she needed the Lords help. " I was on business in Ekhrash, and had to end up staying the night. I would have left already, however the riots have prevented me from doing so. My lord, i came here to ask you if you had access to a portal, so that i may return to Evangeline..., that is if you would be so kinda as to give us access", she said getting straight to the point, the sooner she arrived home the better.Catherine eyed the refreshments brought for a moment, despite her hunger she had suddenly lost her appetite, so she refrained from touching the items.

[Sophia die Dritte]

❂❂❂There is a perceived weakness in letting go of something so dear to you, but in truth it is truest of strengths to set them free.❂❂❂

The fair-haired woman was not moved by Catherine's accusations, nor the unjustified coldness in her tone. The Duchess' attitude and words were not foreign to her in the least, Prelati had been much crueler. If there was anything that Casmaeri had found in her twenty-five short years of life, was that the words of a scorned woman were often fleeting and a softer blow than the one her twin usually delivered. So it was that the youngest Plantagenet stood silently and stoically by Sakari's side, her gaze settling on a space somewhere beyond Catherine.

"Lady Casmaeri, I wasn't expecting you. How is Brother Iolaus doing? Last I heard he was fighting a dragon."

Casmaeri turned her head sharply in Alexandira's direction, and her eyes seemed to waver between confusion and a deeply raw pain. "He'a alive." She said just barely above a whisper, her voice strained as she looked away from the Celvasti knight. "He's free." Swallowing, she was glad Sakari had called for them to move to the dining table, and although she had been distracted during his entire rebuttal to the Duchess, she could feel the aftermath. The tension in the room had laid a heavy blanket of unease on her now bare shoulders, and the question of Iolaus had shocked her. Her face had retained its usual slightly morose expression, and she tried her best to follow the conversation.

She followed quietly into the dining hall, and gracefully bent to sit upon one of the pillows surrounding it. Her skirt fanned out around her, and she sat demurely beside Lord Sakari, her eyes trailing over each of his guests. Taking in a deep breath, she merely glanced between Sakari and Catherine, and leaned in ever-so-slightly towards the Lord of Ekhrash. "Surely Lord Sakari can arrange something, Duchess Delacour." She said softly, which was more an effort to be polite and not remain a mute before her current company.

[NexusSigma]

My position would be better-named 'Counsellor of Solutions';
If the Under-King has a problem, I solve it. If Olborvonne is threatened, I remove the threat.
If there is an opportunity to put Olborvonne ahead of its enemies, I'll bloody well take it.

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xxx

Dame Hilda "The Steelhand" Vanderhalt
Counsellor of Statecraft for Olborvonne


"Enough of this!" Hilda barked impatiently. "What do you think this mission is going to be, a fun little jaunt outside the keep? Get a bloody grip on things, the lot of you! The Maul want us to be a band of ********, and they'll bloody laugh about it later whilst they're eating our corpses raw! This is going to be difficult, really bloody difficult, and any little s**t that decides to have a joke on the way there - or any dunderheaded b*****d too thick to fall for it - is going to make it a hell of a lot harder. We don't have the time or energy or effort to spare, so anyone dragging the team down gets themselves sent back to rot in here until the Maul breach the walls, or if we're too far in I'll just bloody kill you myself!" she promised, raising her forefinger to point at each one of them. Sir Cadman, Sir Malgusson, Nessie, Eleanor, two more knights and two mages... against the Maul. They'd be murdered like livestock if they ran into trouble. Hilda ran her palm across her head. "I'm not here to be your friend, so don't worry about whether I like you or if we get along. You can think of me as a crazed stuck-up b***h if you like, but most crazed stuck-up bitches don't do well for very long, and I'm still bloody here so you can rest assured I'm bloody good at what I do. This crazed stuck-up b***h is getting us out of here, and we're lucky it'll mean you lot can help get Olborvonne out of this mess."

Reaching into the unlit hearth, her hand snaked up into the flue and seized a lever within. With a hearty yank, she cranked it downwards with a heavy jolt. The back of the hearth creaked and began to open, dust spitting from the disused mechanism, until a sizeable gap in the back had opened up. "It can be closed from either side, but that's the only lever to open it. Once we're in and it's shut, the only way out is at one of the two exits. Come on." she ordered sharply, not bothering to stand on ceremony. Having to duck down low to clamber into the tunnel, she stood up on the other side, waving the torch around to inspect the interior. Dusty, damp, filthy and tricky-footed, but safe enough. Safer than above ground, anyway. "Let's move. Ness, you go first. I'll follow up after you with Sir Cadman and Sir Malgusson. Then the mages in the middle - Eleanor, you guard them. Sir Rolvan and Sir Unter, you take up the rear. Haul that door shut behind us." Hilda commanded.

In a short while, they had set off down the tunnel. It was large enough for three to walk abreast, stone and dirt walls held up by the occasional wooden frame. Hilda was personally impressed that the place had never caved in, but Olborvonne's land was as hardy as its men. Powerful indeed, and it didn't break easily. Perhaps the Father had been on their side when they chose places to dig the day this tunnel had been made. Hilda took a deep breath. He might have been favouring them with regard to the earth, but He was being sparing on air right now.

"Sir Cadman," she said to the man on her right as they walked. "This tunnel has two exits, and we'll be coming up to the fork which determines our path soon. You said you had marked out some points for us to avoid, so I'll put this to you - the first exit takes us to the top of the cliff face looking out across the Clutch Sea, whereas the second puts us at Porhon Hill, overlooking the shanty docks a mile or so from the main docks. My preference is the latter, but doubtless you'll know the area better than me. If we should go that way, is there a path you can show us which can get us down to the shanty docks without being seen or caught in the open? The Maul aren't thick, or perhaps not as thick as I'd like, and they'll probably have known to tackle the ports... we may encounter some down there, and I'd rather get any and every advantage we can scrounge."




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Eleanor Moorst



Take what you want if you can, and if not, ask why not;
Then, remove the reasons until it's within your grasp, and lunge whilst you can.
Yes - "The Steelhand" is a moniker of many meanings, so don't test any aspect of it.

[NexusSigma]

There are plenty of opportunities to repair a broken friendship,
But unfortunately, it is so often the case that there are no chances
To recover from a friendship made in error when one is thusly betrayed.

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xxx

Legatus Milvain Lothaer of Tildain


The Legatus had done her job. The Cerepath was gone... as was the entire Arborian delegation. Milvain couldn't feel guilty about that; if they were going to bring a Cerepath into the room and not tell anybody about it, the one covered in leaves was probably an incendiary mechanism in disguise. They probably weren't going to make any promises they would end up keeping to anyway. Milvain sniffed. They had done nothing but try to trick Tildain and her inhabitants since the death of Lord Eon, and if they had to be made a fool of at breakfast just to show them it wasn't going to work, Milvain was perfectly fine with that. It would, however, come at a cost, and that cost was Lady Seduhl's temper, which she promptly lost.

Verbal carnage spewed from her mouth like an erupting volcano. Some of it was good, some of it was bad. On the one hand, Shaemir was being rebuked for not sharing military information, which was nice; it would mean that Milvain would finally have access to something she been hankering after for a long time and would finally be able to plan Tildain's defenses properly. She made no expression, but if Shaemir could read minds like that Ak'Keld could, Milvain suspected it would lead to a whole new confrontation; as such, she remained immutable. On the other hand, Lady Seduhl seemed... slightly displeased with how Milvain had handled the matter. Yes, it had not gone as smoothly as she would have liked, but it was rather difficult to remain civil when one's own side decided to publicly spite you when you had just been proven correct and found an important security breach. That Shaemir... she had opened her big mouth and spoken for no reason other than to spite the Legatus. Milvain was highly sceptical that Shaemir cared anything for the Cerepath, she simply wanted to score marks against Milvain. In the face of such pettiness, what was Milvain to do? Admit that Shaemir was correct merely because she had spoken first? Absolutely not. Milvain hadn't done that at any point in her career and she certainly wouldn't start now. That said, there was always room for improvement as far as she was concerned.

"Lady Seduhl, please accept my apologies." she said sincerely, standing up and bowing deeply. "I shall make stern and serious efforts to change the manner in which I uncover further breaches to security in the future. I shall leave your chambers and re-acquaint myself with my duties. Should I be needed further, I will be in my chambers." Milvain informed her, turning on the spot and striding to the door. As she opened it, she looked back to Shaemir. "High Priestess, if you could come to see me as soon as you are able please, I would be very grateful. I will need to incorporate the numbers, locations, arms and strongholds of the Elderok as soon as possible, along with a list of known strengths and weaknesses for each relevant location and unit, as soon as possible for an effective remedial strategy for the war going on at our borders - and, of course, across them." she explained pointedly, smiling softly and politely before departing down the corridor to her office. Hopefully the servants would have gotten rid of all that blasted fur by now...




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Still, I shall endeavour to befriend as many as I may,
And end those friendships whenever and in whatever manner I see fit;
As a result, I have never needed to regret any such errors.

[QueenArasene]

The door closed behind Marylla. For a short moment, she paused and sent her thoughts outward, waiting...... then something struck the wooden wall of the room she had just left. Something sharp. She nodded lightly to herself, falling into step again. Tildain, it had turned out, had not been quite as friendly as she had hoped. But then, she often expected too much good of people. One would think that after near-on two and a half centuries, she would have learned to accept how unfriendly people- any kind of people- could be. And yet, she never ceased to hope, always made another attempt to garner favor. It was silly, but someone had to do it. If that person was her, then so be it. She could certainly not think of anyone else who would be fit for the job.

Directed by a guard who made a decent effort of appearing friendly, Marylla managed to pick her way through the palace of Tildain until she reached the fabled gardens. They were, on the first glance, beautiful. And yet, when you looked again, you could see that there was something missing. Something that Arbor had, something that was important in any garden that wanted to be truly alive- and it was disorder. Yes, the royal garden of Tildain had been beautifully arranged, but it was almost sterile in its beauty. There was only the faintest hint of disorder, a single flower growing on a lawn, almost sad in its loneliness. Marylla sympathized with the lonely flower.

At a polite cough from the guard, she rose back to attention. No, she could not get lost in thought here, not now, not in her position. When you were the Lady of Arbor while Arbor was at war, you could not afford to lose yourself in deep thoughts for days on end. Sadly, she shook her head. She had liked her long days spent in thought, only interrupted by the occasional meal or visitor who quickly excused himself again. Alas, they were likely no longer to be. At least no time in the immediate future. Shaking herself from the sad reverie, she gave a quiet sigh and strode onward. It didn't take very long to find Xylia in the garden- you simply followed the loud voices. For once, the sprite settled her flustered leaves down when Marylla approached, and quickly agreed to follow along with her. Reinforced, the fae walked on, ripping Gren'kiesi out of her meditation and sweeping her along. They had no more business to conduct in Tildain, which meant that they should return to Arbor as soon as possible.

As they passed out of the palace, Marylla released her dove companion. It twittered amiably and flew off to do whatever it was that doves do. The Arborian trio, meanwhile, made its way through the capital and ended up, before long, in the portal chambers once more. There was no hesitation as Marylla strode through the one leading back to her homestead, taking Xylia and Gren'kiesi with her. For a moment, time stood still- the transportation of portals had that effect, and often disoriented travelers for a small while (one of the reasons why Arbor's own portal chambers had their own medical bay and resting rooms attached). Today, however, Marylla did not take the time to indulge in such small comforts. Work was waiting for her, and she had been away too long already. She could feel it in the air, a thread-thin sense of anticipation, of tension just waiting to be released.

She made her way up to the Palace quickly, and a quiet part of her noted how very quickly the crowd parted before her. That same part worried, insignificantly, whether they removed themselves out of her path out of respect or fear, or both. Hopefully, it was respect- Marylla disliked spreading fear, even though she knew, deep down, how very terrifying she possibly could be. She had looked into those depths and not liked what had looked back at her. A shiver went down her spine, but she straightened it and swept on. The doors opened before her, as usual. Behind them, people sprung into action, or at least tried to look busy. With a raised hand, Marylla turned to her companions. ❝ Gren'kiesi, Xylia. ❞ She took another breath to calm herself, letting her gaze run over the two figures, so vastly different and yet somehow similar in mind. ❝ Thank you for accompanying me. I truly appreciate it. Please, make yourself comfortable in the Palace. If there is anything you need, I will be in... ❞ she sighed quietly, ❝ the late Lord Eon's study. ❞

With a faint smile and a slight bow to each of them, she left their company- for now, certainly. Quickly, Marylla's steps carried her to the study that had been Eon's only so little time ago. It still looked exactly like it had when he was alive, and a pang of nostalgia shot through her. None of this would have happened if the satyr was still alive. He would be sitting there, at his desk, going through papers and keeping everything running on the edge of the blade, well knowing that if he made a single misstep, Arbor would fall into chaos- or worse, war. Well, Eon had died and of course, it had not only thrown them off the ledge, but taken the ledge with them. There was no going back now. Another deep sigh forced its way out of Marylla's chest. She was too old for this, really. Too old to start running a country of crazy people like Arbor. And yet, was there anyone she knew who would be a better choice? There was nobody she could think of, no-one who would not draw even more fearsome consequences with him or her. So she would simply have to do her best.

Very carefully, even almost reverentially, she sat down at the desk that Eon had once called his own. And then she stood up again. She couldn't think here. The memory of Eon would haunt her if she stayed, and it made her skittish. Shuddering, she crossed the room and threw open the window. Sunlight hit her like a wave, and the wind rushed into her hair, ruffling it. Marylla closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. Better. Slowly, she took another breath. It tasted of grass, of growing trees nearby and the gentle activity of a thousand living creatures. An idea sprung into her mind, knocked on the mental door and prepared its presentation. She stayed still as it unrolled, quietly considering the arguments. Then she nodded to herself slowly and quietly left the room again.

_________________________________

Marylla was sitting in the palace garden. The sun shone friendly through the thin foliage of trees above her, bees buzzed through the air and the wind played gently with her whitening hair. There was a smile on her face. This was a place where she felt at home, a place where she could truly unfold herself. With a slightly ponderous sound, she looked down again. On the large stone in front of her, a natural desk placed there on her request, were all the papers that had been addressed to her in Lord Eon's study. But it had been Lord Eon's study. This, on the other hand, was hers. Without the smile fading, she reached out for the first paper and began to read.

There were news. Quite a lot of them. Some were good, others were less so. She read them all, quietly, pausing occasionally to listen to a bird flying through the trees. It was a relaxing sound, and when it had passed, she returned to her reading. The stack of papers yet to read diminished, while the heap of papers read grew steadily. So it continued for half an hour more. Despite everything, despite rarely having had written papers in her hands for the past few decades, Marylla was a quick reader. When she was done, she leaned back. Well. The word hung in her mind for a moment, reluctant to let any others join it. That was interesting, she eventually finished.

First things first. She needed a runner- or five. Someone to carry around all her messages to the ones that needed to receive their instructions. That was one of the easy things to arrange. The rest would be significantly harder. Five minutes later, she had organized enough messengers. Quietly, she sat back and put a hand to her forehead. Where to start now? There were so many possibilities-.... but in the end, she supposed it was decided already. A war did not fight itself, and she had to find out what to do about it. With a sigh, she rose again and made her way to the War Room, which had been prepared in the Small Council. On the way, she made sure to dispatch a messenger to the various important people who were supposed to be there and tell her about the situation. Another messenger went to Lord Eon's scribe with the request to draft an official proclamation about emigration to Tildain.

She made sure to take enough time for everyone else to assemble, even the way to the Small Council was not very long. When Marylla finally arrived, she met Rufus in the doorway, who looked positively frightening in his full wartime pack-master gear. It had far too many sharp edges for her liking, and seemed to contain a fair amount of iron. Very respectfully, she kept her distance. Iron disagreed with her in a way that resembled an allergy, and she certainly didn't want to fall ill now. Once he had passed, she followed him into the room. There had been a few changes. Primary among them, perhaps, was the larger map of the Fool's Wades laid out on the Council table, complete with small figures depicting rats, Stolth, humans and, in one case, a particularly grotesque figure making a rude gesture to the rest of the room. ❝ All right, ❞ Marylla turned to the prime military commanders who had assembled- Pack-Master Rufus, Lady Chak'tea, Admiral Alalaniafdusra and, of course, General Taernau. All the highest-ranked force commanders, save for General Smerch, were in place. ❝ Explain the situation, please. And what you suggest we do with it. ❞

❝ Of course, milady. ❞ Taernau bowed, taking the part of the military's voice. The other commanders stepped aside tactfully, continuing their debate about, from what she could hear, the food supply lines, quietly. It was surprisingly peaceful compared to the vigorous shouting that had gone on yesterday. Perhaps it was because they were all senior military personnel. Marylla turned her attention back to the dryad, who began his explanation. ❝ What we have here is generally called an unfavorable situation. Even with your limited understanding of tactics, I assume you can see that fighting a war across a body of water is generally not a good idea. Now, General Smerch has led his forces here, ❞ he gestured to the small figures of a rat and several Stolth and Redcaps which were looking rather forlorn in the southern Wades, ❝ and temporarily achieved a victory over a force that, from what we know, was led by General Thorne and the Earl Valenar. From our information, the remains of said Balvestelian troops fled south toward Tildain. Meanwhile, the forces that the Shaman, Gorsh Talonfang, took with him have not sent word. They were farther north than the General, and we currently assume that they have been forced on the defensive or been captured. ❞

Marylla nodded slightly to the explanation, but finally found the question that had bothered her in all of this. ❝ "From what we know"? Why don't we have certain information? ❞ She looked from the map up to Taernau, who looked slightly uncomfortable. ❝ Not many messenger birds have been detached yet, o Sylva. Our information about the troop movements is sorely limited at the moment. ❞ The fae raised her hands slightly in exasperation. ❝ It's because I said not to send any greater forces yet, isn't it? ❞ Taernau nodded. ❝ Well, reconnaissance doesn't count. Find out how everything looks. Do it quickly. We can't fight a war blindly. Really, you don't have to take everything I say literally. I'm, as you said, not a military commander. If something I order seems tactically unsound, please tell me. ❞ With a nod, Taernau left for a short moment, moving over to whisper something with Lady Chak'tea. They seemed to come to an agreement swiftly, and the latter of the two left the room at a hurried pace, while the dryad returned to Marylla.

❝ All right. That's Smerch and the Balvestel troops covered. Our main concern seems to be the north of the Wades- the largest part, in fact. It is ruled by a very clearly pronounced anti-arborean... ❞ ❝ Gustav Maxis, ❞ Marylla finished the sentence. ❝ I remember. I read the transcript of his speech at Bastionspire. It was rather sad. ❞ Taernau nodded. ❝ He has earned himself a reputation of great cruelty to the nature-based races, and many of our kind have disappeared mysteriously in or near his lands. He is ruthless in his war against us, and will be the main enemy in our conflict, until Balvestel manages to send more troops into the Wade. Unfortunately, we know that the Baron has been building his forces up for a long time. It will not be an easy fight to take to him. ❞ Again, there was a slight pause. The General gestured vaguely to the grotesque statuette on the map, which was placed on the location of Thornhold Keep and therefore had to represent the Baron, ❝ He seems to have been away from his castle for quite some time, though, and his forces have made no reported larger movements yet. ❞

Carefully, Marylla examined the map. Everything on it seemed correct- well, at least in accordance with what Taernau had just explained to her. She didn't ask about the statuettes that were standing on the part of the map that depicted Arbor, because she could imagine fairly well where these were, and what. ❝ Well, that sounds fairly promising. Now, what do we do? ❞ In response, the dryad reached out and picked a number of bright red statuettes, which stood in bright contrast to those already on the map. ❝ The ideal move, of course, would be to move our troops across the Concordat Bridge, through the short stretch of Tildain soil and into the Wades. Exactly, in fact, what Smerch did. Of course, you very wisely told us not to do this, as it insulted Tildain's sovereignty- something General Gelnark, unfortunately, had precious little regard for. ❞ Marylla nodded. ❝ And we assume that your visit to Tildain did not go particularly favorable either, considering you did not even know about said troop movement. Which, as you can imagine, makes the operation somewhat more complicated. ❞ Without hesitation, he slid a piece of paper over to her. It was written in a fair approximation of Gelnark's hand and thus presumably a copy of an original he had written. ❝ This is the message we received from him late last night. ❞

"Entrance to Bal/Wades successful. Redcaps safe. Stolth have joined cause but will not leave Wades. Surprise-attack successful. Moderate losses. Balvestel routed. Large counter-attack expected. General Thorne/Earl Valenar defeated but alive. Reinforcements needed immediately. Goblins/Hobgoblins/Rats armed and prepared?" Marylla's face tightened incrementally as she read it. It was, mostly, something that had been explained to her already, but that didn't stop her from continuing to disapprove of Smerch's invasion. Nodding slightly, she gave it back to Taernau. ❝ With Thornhold as a major enemy stronghold and Evangeline as, while unprotected, non-attackable country, we have only a very small piece of beach to send troops onto. We assume, of course, that the minute Baron Maxis returns to his keep and gets his feet under the table, he will deploy his troops. ❞ The sentence was punctuated by several red figures and ships being placed on the map, spreading out from Thornhold. ❝ Most dangerous to our case, at the moment, would be his naval forces. Admiral Alalaniafdusra could no doubt explain it in more detail, but in the end, it boils down to something much more simple. ❞ He finished setting red pieces on the board. Marylla looked at it and understood- at least, she thought she understood. ❝ He has the ships, so he can block our access to the Wades. And then Gelnark would be all alone, vulnerable. ❞ Taernau nodded. ❝ We have every reason to believe that Baron Maxis knows quite a lot about our strengths and weaknesses, and his forces- especially those on the sea- will be equipped to fight according to that knowledge. ❞

He gestured to the small piece of the map where Arbor and Balvestel were closest. ❝ The worst part, according to Alalaniafdusra, is that the expanse of water is so small and therefore easily defensible. With the right strategy, she told us, even only a few ships could hold against a rather large force trying to get through. ❞ Again, Marylla nodded. Laid out like this, Gelnark's situation certainly looked hopeless enough to justify his rather urgent request. ❝ I see. What is the plan, then? How do you circumvent it? ❞ Taernau looked uncomfortable for a moment. Then he seemed to decide and reached out again, this time with several green statuettes. ❝ Among ourselves, the Generals have agreed that, once the Baron deploys his fleet, any naval attack will likely be suicide. We hoped, of course, for an agreement with Tildain, but as we could not count on that, we had to resort to... Immaterialism. ❞ At Marylla's questioning look, he continued. ❝ You see, portals are the most effective way of circumventing any barrier that can traditionally not be crossed by force. It requires, in the end, nothing more than a single mage to be transported over. Some could even send themselves, but this would be extremely risky. ❞

Marylla looked at the map again. She considered for a small while. Behind her, the discussion between the remaining Generals went on in a louder and more agitated tone. ❝ So you would send over a single portal mage.... who opens a connection to Arbor and lets through one or two more... and so on, until you have enough mages on either side to maintain a stable connection, that can support military forces. Right? ❞ Taernau nodded, pointing to a number of small green statuettes with the symbol of immaterialism painted delicately on their chests. ❝ We would convey the first mage by air, to make sure he does not encounter any naval forces on the way. ❞ This time, it was the fae who nodded, looking over the map and pondering silently. When the silence dragged on, Taernau fidgeted a little, before adding. ❝ We took the liberty of deploying the scouting and interception division of the aerial fleet when you asked for more information. Lady Chak'tea insisted on the latter part, I'm afraid. They will try to confuse enemy movements and messages by intercepting messages, even replacing them if they can manage. ❞

❝ Remind me, ❞ Marylla began eventually, her voice rolling pleasantly slowly, as if she were considering each word, which she was, ❝ What the sacred book of the Mother says about troop movements during the Septumnus. ❞ Taernau looked taken aback. ❝ Milady-.... ❞ she stopped him by raising a hand, giving him a look that said 'tell me'. He swallowed and acquiesced. ❝ There is no specific mention in the books that forbids the movement of military troops, o Sylva. They forbid, of course, the act of raising harm against another living creature, but they say nothing about moving troops. ❞ The fae nodded. It was as she has thought. On one hand, she desperately wanted to avoid the war and on the other hand, she knew she had to fight it with every ounce of her power. Which left, of course, fighting with less traditional methods. ❝ I agree. Send the Immaterialist. Having a stable connection to the Wades will be beneficial anyway, as long as we can hold the Wade. ❞ With a bow, Taernau dispatched another of the runners. Probably to catch up with Chak'tea, who was allegedly deploying the other mentioned flying forces.

❝ I think, ❞ Marylla began, turning to the rest of the Generals, who interrupted themselves from their now really quite vociferous argument to listen, ❝ that we should not be in a state of war during the Septumnus. I propose that we declare a general armistice against Balvestel for the duration of the religious holiday. ❞ The number of shocked looks she got equaled exactly three, which meant that there was one on the face of everyone in the room except herself. They probably wouldn't have managed to look more stunned if a lightning bolt had struck her right there and then, or if she had turned into a a bright pink polka-dot pony. Gradually, the silence stretched on. After a while, a look of nasty comprehension spread over the face of Admiral Alalaniafdusra. It didn't help that the Admiral was an Unathi, which gave her a smile that resembled a meat mincer. ❝ Yes.... Yes.... ❞ The amphibian creature chuckled, voice rasping in a way that did not exactly lessen the likeness between her and a tool usually used for rasping fish into infinitesimally small pieces. ❝ It will give us valuable time to prepare, because troop movements are legal to make. And if Balvestel were to lay an attack upon us, they would be guilty of breaching the sacred peace of the Septumnus... I can't imagine that sitting very well with the Matriarch. ❞ Understanding dawned like the sun on the faces of the other Generals. They took a second to imagine the scenario, before smiles spread over the room. It seemed like a favorable idea.

❝ And, if we were to take it even a step farther, we could ask for civilian volunteers- depending on the stability of our connection, of course- to begin settling in the Wades. After all, there are no rules against living there, as far as we know. ❞ Acknowledging nods all around, though tinged with a small bit of worry. None of the commanders really wanted to risk civilian deaths of Arboreans during the war. ❝ And those who want to stay as far away from the war as possible have been granted leave to emigrate, temporarily or permanently, to Tildain. ❞ She continued quickly before the dissenting voices had time to rise enough to interrupt her, ❝ We need the space. You all know that Arbor's lands are overpopulated. This could be the relief we need for the province to stay upright. ❞ This time, the acknowledgement was begrudging. It was true, but none of them had to like it. ❝ A lot can happen in seven days, my friends. Evangeline has applied for secession from Balvestel, and we might still get to talk sense into the leaders of Balvestel, to force forth a peaceful solution to this conflict. Hopefully. ❞

To be fair, the Admiral did not look too hopeful. Neither, in fact, did any of the others. Marylla sighed a little. ❝ I'm sorry. War is not my business, and I have a hard time accepting it. ❞ General nods all around. There was, for a moment, a hint of tension in the air, released by a swift huddle of the generals from which a few comments could be heard- "tell her", they argued, or "don't tell her", as well as bits and pieces from various arguments for either side. Finally, they seemed to come to a conclusion. ❝ We believe, ❞ Taernau began slowly, ❝ That we should also inaugurate you to the plans that have been suggested for making decisive strikes against Balvestel, should a peaceful solution not be reached during the Septumnus. ❞ Marylla considered. It was possibly good to know, but she did not at all feel fit to hear about the various ways her generals imagined killing hundreds more or less innocent humans. ❝ Thank you, ❞ she answered after a moment, ❝ but I will decline. For now. There is too much for me to pay attention to, I'm afraid. ❞ They bowed their heads. At the sight, another thought- or rather, a memory- made itself known in Marylla's mind.

❝ Actually, Tildain has suggested to us that we, to make clear our stance on Gelnark's rash attack and infringement on their territory, deliver a punishment unto General Smerch. ❞ This time, there were protests. Marylla raised her hands, and they began to abate again slowly. ❝ And I can agree with them, ❞ she raised her voice over theirs. ❝ General Smerch did something that threatened our relationship with Tildain without even talking to any of the other commanders. That is an insubordination deserving of punishment. On the other hand, ❞ Marylla continued before the protest grew unbearably loud again, ❝ He also won a great victory for us in the Wades, and deserves a reward. I want to hear your opinions about what can, or should, be done. ❞ Immediately, a chorus rose up, and the fae had to raise her arms to quieten them down again. One at a time, she motioned, and they settled down their metaphorical ruffled feathers.

❝ No punishments! ❞ Admiral Alalaniafdusra began, trying to disprove the entire argument. ❝ General Smerch has acted quickly and decisively, thus winning us a great victory. He should be richly rewarded for his swift thinking and action. ❞ Biting down on her lip, Marylla nodded in acknowledgement and nodded to the next General, Pack-Master Rufus. ❝ I say that we give him a very nice menial task.... say, send him to Balvestel under a peace flag to deliver the message of armistice. It will be humiliating, perhaps, but that's the point of the exercise. As field commander of the Wades, he can always be replaced by someone else. ❞ The fae smiled slightly at the visual image, before gesturing to the third General. ❝ A few lashes would be the customary punishment, ❞ the dryad spoke ponderously, ❝ but to be quite honest, I do not see that deterring General Smerch from repeating actions such as this one. Nothing could, except possibly his death. ❞ That garnered a chuckle from them all. It quickly died down again, and every eye turned back to Marylla.

❝ There has to be a punishment, ❞ she began, looking at the Unathi. ❝ But I agree, we cannot have him lashed. That would be ... well, rather detrimental to morale. No, I think Pack-Master Rufus is correct, and he should be sent on a diplomatic mission so he may realize the consequences of his action. But not Balvestel. You did not see it, but he has his eye on the young Lord of Balvestel. I fear what would come of it if they were to meet again... so I believe it is better to send him to Tildain. What better way to make clear our regret than to send the perpetrator himself to apologize? ❞ There were no better suggestions. Rufus even smiled, and something resembling amusement was present on Taernau's face. The Admiral seemed rather entirely displeased, but did not argue. ❝ And we will make sure to mention his invaluable effort in the great victory that has been won in our official statement, ❞ Marylla added, finally receiving a small nod from the amphibian as well. There were so many people to please in such arrangements.... She shook her head slightly.

❝ Does that conclude our meeting? ❞ the Generals looked at one another, as if asking whether or not there was anything left unsaid between them. Eventually, they agreed on ❝ For now, milady. We may request another meeting soon. ❞ Marylla nodded. ❝ Please. Send for me at any time. ❞ With this final agreement, she gave a slight bow to each of them and strode out of the room again at a measured pace. There were still things to do, but fortunately the most worrying one was out of the way- for now. And it was just past high noon! It was taking less time than she had feared, and Marylla allowed herself the hope of getting some quiet time for the evening.

___________________________

Alas, to say that her day's work was done would be a gross overstatement. No, now that the war had been left in capable hands, there were still letters to pay attention to, urgent requests and less urgent requests, petitions, pleas and all the other tiny things that had to be answered to keep the Province running smoothly. She wondered, for a moment, how Eon had managed to keep track of it all. He probably hadn't, had spent his day delegating less important tasks to others and listening to their reports of what had transpired. That was something she would have to organize, as well. Soon, by the look of it, for the heap of papers on her makeshift stone desk in the palace gardens had grown again in the time that she had been in the War Room.

Sighing, she sat back down and picked one of the papers, scanning through it quickly. It was, as it turned out, a request from one of the merchants to continue his trade arrangement with Balvestel despite the war going on. Can't these people figure such things out for themselves? Apparently, they couldn't. She filed the paper into the heap of less important requests and turned her attention to those that she had earlier picked out as urgent, or at least out of the ordinary. There was the report of the strange ship in the south... nobody seemed to know quite what it was about, and she had received more than ten different notifications about it, almost all civilian reports. Whatever it was, it seemed to be quite noticeable, and that was enough to make it worrying. For a while, she considered. An unmanned ship, floating mysteriously around... Well, they had to send someone to investigate. There could be all manner of dangerous things on the ship, and if there was anything Arbor didn't need at the moment, it was something like a plague released by just such a mysterious ship. She sent out the draft for a volunteer to investigate and turned her attention to the next matter.

There was no food. Of course there was no food- they were too many. Arbor had been overpopulated for a long time, but they had always gotten by. But it seemed that they had finally reached the upper limit of what the country could support, and surpassed it. Marylla shook her head. If only the humans could be sensible and refrain from demonizing nature's races, if only they could learn to live alongside each other peacefully. Arboreans could move out and live in human cities, or even establish their own, forest-like dwellings as parts of cities, seamlessly integrating forest, beast-town and human town. Alas, none of the human leaders had ever considered such an idea, insisting that forests were good for producing wood and not much else. It was really quite frustrating if you thought about it like that. Returning to the problem at hand, Marylla sent out for information about the food stores. Did they even have any? If not, Arbor was in trouble. Deep trouble, even. They would need to buy food- from Tildain, most likely. It seemed laughable to even think that Balvestel might consider trading with Arbor right now. And Tildain... well, she could only hope that Lady Shaede's impression of her was not too unfavorable. A letter, perhaps, later in the evening. She made the note.

What else was important? Ah, yes. Xarathos demanded their attention Marylla spent the next half hour painstakingly crafting a well-worded petition to the Minister of Justice, a man she certainly held no love for even though he could have been lovable in all his frailty. Evangeline seceding from Balvestel was a good thing, strategically. It weakened their forces and, most of all, it severely cut down on the Province's economical wealth- certainly, nobody would have ever tried to cause such an asset to secede, which posed the somewhat interesting question of why the Duchess of Evangeline was so eager to release herself from the bonds of being a subprovince and throw on all those greater restrictions that a full Province had to deal with. She supposed it had something to do with General Thorne, whom she remembered quite clearly storming out of the Council Room in Xarathos in a stormy mood. And yes, the Duchess had looked rather smug back then, too. Either way, she would like to see the secession come to fruition. How could she not? Weakening the enemy's forces was always popular among warring parties.

Which left only a handful of very important points. One, what to tell the Minister who had requested her presence. Sure, she could not outright refuse him- but she couldn't go at once, either. Neither would sending someone else suffice, which meant that he would have to be placed in her increasingly busy schedule. After the meeting with the Duchess Delacour, perhaps. Another letter was written, more politically, explaining patiently to the recipient that the Sylva Lumen was quite occupied at the moment, but would arrive at the Palace in Xarathos at her earliest opportune moment which, as the letter had to regret, might be tomorrow. In other news, it hoped it found the receiving party in good health and high spirits, and may the Goddess grant her blessings to them on this most joyous holiday. Marylla chuckled. Perhaps it was a little passive-aggressive, but she had to be allowed to indulge herself in some way if she was going to spend all of her day working on important things. Yes, there were still important things to do.... Faelorn was still gone. She'd read the report, he had left the Arborean library around sunset and not returned since. Of course, that was only to be expected- Arbor was not as small as the maps often made you think it was, and the only completely straight road that it possessed, aside from Concordat Bridge, was in the capital. Movement tended to be a winding affair that could take a long time. For the moment, she calmed her niggling fear with those words, those certainties.

And then the time had come to eat again. Marylla stood up and made her way to the dining hall, because one, she had not gotten particularly much breakfast and two, she needed a break. Her wrist was already smarting from overexertion, and her eyes felt far too tired for the time of day. A break was definitely in order.

[Carrion Reaper]

NPC
Old Stoke



The old caprine tilted his head a little, listening intently. "Redeemed..." he repeated. The lad seemed earnest about that. Old Stoke put his hand (well, presumably his hand, given that all that could be seen was the long, wide sleeve of his white robes) to his chin for a moment in thought. "That's an interesting goal. Seems to me that others have been giving you things to redeem yourself from. Are you redeeming yourself in your eyes, or in theirs?" he asked quizzically. "Precious few value redemption - fewer still seek it out, and even fewer ever attain it. But what would it be to have redemption? In the eyes of your people, it would mean bringing them victory, to be sure. It's the way a Veldari would think about it, certainly. In fact, that's why I'm here in the first place - the Veldari wanted me to come and see you, see if we can't work out a way to put you on the forward-foot once again. You've got friends, lad, know it or not. They want you to succeed so that Balvestel can be strong, strong and reliable for the times ahead. They'll need Balvestel, and Balvestel needs you. And you need to be strong."

His stick tip-tapped against the ground as he shuffled over to Jannick, once again the fact that he wasn't moving it in time with his steps being rather noticeable - it simply clacked against the earth in a steady irregular rhythm, too quiet to hear unless one was looking for it. "Strength is two things - first, it is relative, and second, it's composite. The first one's just something to bear in mind, but the second is the more important one. A man who can lift fifty times his own weight is still slain by a child with a bow stood fifty paces from him. So, with the greatest of respect, Lord Kjaelgaard, what you need is the proverbial 'bow'." he said with a chuckle, coming to a stop in front of him. "There is a weapon, Lord Kjaelgaard, which in a man's hands can, in time, make him the most powerful fighter in all of Alderheim. It is a blade, and it's called 'Nail'. It has something of a will, a personality of its own - a desire to assist and protect its master. You see, it's a 'loyal' weapon, lives off loyalty. That's the other thing about it - it lives off loyalty, and so its master must be loyal, too. You seem loyal to me, Lord Kjaelgaard." Old Stoke added with a nod. "Once you have this weapon, it'll grow to you and you to it. No-one will be able to lay a finger on you whilst you wield that blade. By the time you're as old as some of these other lords, you'll be able to cut down a hundred men at once without taking a scratch. Let it be loyal to you; let it respond to your loyalty, and in time, the mightiness you shall accrue will put every single man and woman in Balvestel staunchly behind you in admiration. Not to mention, no-one will ever want to cross blades with you again."

Old Stoke twitched, his explanation concluded. "The Veldari know where Nail is, and they want you to have it, both as a token of their sincerity and kinship, but also so that you can become a powerful ally for them. So, my lord... shall I have Nail brought to you?"

[American Duchess]

Her Highness, Sovereign Mother Leonilla of Olborvonne

Feel: Anxious yet thrilled
Who: Ihvon and Nobility
Where: Throne Room

The Sovereign mother was electrified by her Dear Ihvons coronation. Though he was not her son by blood, he was by marriage, but most certainly by bond. The Noble born,yet recently royal woman watched as the under-king walked down the set path to the Arch-Consul whom would crown, or rather badge him. Leonilla glared those into silence who dare allow themselves to be heard gossiping by the Sovereign mother. Leonilla although happy for her sons ascension, worried about his future reign, gaining something was easy, but keeping it was the hard part. She would do her best to ensure her sons power with her knowledge, influence, and wealth, but she would not be around forever, she needed to permanently secure his rule, and legitimacy. Leonilla needed to find her son a consort. She was unaware of how he would take the idea, but nevertheless she would urge him to do it , he was already nearly middle-aged, he should have settled down a long time ago, as most men did; Leonilla blamed the military for that one.


As Ivhon Finished his speech, the instated Royal mother applauded, only to be followed by more people. Leaving her estranged husbands side, she traveled through the crowd of Nobility until she reached the Under-King, "Ihvonnn", she began in a soft, yet feminine voice. " You were great, my darling. You make me proud, you shined as bright as any king", she praised, " Let them talk", she said glancing at whispering nobles, who were clearly unsatisfied with his appointment. Leonilla placed her hands on her step-sons broad shoulders, smoothing out the cape that layered over him, "Let me be the first to say, Pardon me, your majesty", she said gleefully with smile, as she emphasized on the "Your Majesty" part. Removing her hands, she retired them to clasping position, in front of her demurely. For a moment she glanced about the crowd, " People are putting up brave faces, acting like everything is alright. However, we all know when the sun sets, fear will rain over our heads as we dread another attack from those wretched furred-brutes", she said bringing up the subject of the Maul.


" I hate to spoil the festivities, but surely we should retire early, for some planning with your generals, My sources tell me the maul are planning something big tonight, of course its an attack, but how will they do it, is the question? You should also be aware that it seems a group of brave souls have escaped the Capital, Seraphine,i believe she's called, a mammoth rider, headed west to mercy's barrier. Counselor Hilda of Statecraft, Knight Cadman, and few others have ventured off east. Now we can only pray for those souls, and hope the Holy Father, and great Goddess show mercy upon them", she explained. Leonilla Had collected such info from various sources. Leonilla had been trying to locate Hilda for a few days, until she finally did some interrogating, Harsh interrogating, and found out the Counselor had escaped the city, with some men, it was after questioning the commander of the royal Guard, that a knight called Cadman had gone out as well. As for Seraphine, well it was hard not miss a mammoth rider, word such as this spread quickly through the city.Leon was doubtful of the survival of those whom had left, as a girl her uncles would tell her stories about the maul, and how they would devour humans whom dared trespass their territory uninvited.

Wintermute Construct

[sartol]

Crimson Shade Kojo Cevantes of Ehkrash

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Seeing what he thought was someone in armor sit up, headless, and find the helm, devoid of a head, spooked Kojo. He'd seen and done many grisly deeds, dealt with dark magics, and even once saw a necromancer raise a zombie before he promptly killed the necromancer, but all that hadn't prepared him for the sight of a moving armor that glowed faintly inside. He had gripped Viper firmly as he moved into a combat ready stance. He wasn't sure exactly if he could do anything with the sword against an armored suit, but it calmed him knowing he was ready. Everything about this encounter was strange, and wrong.

He watched though, and saw how the little girl was decidedly a target to attack, maybe capturing her would keep the suited one from doing anything brash. It was at this point he realized that she didn't breathe, even when she had spoken, it was more like a wind just escaped her lungs with words placed on them. It was eerie, it was unnatural, and Kojo didn't like it. The topic of leaders was spoken about, and as the old man explained about the problem of going to one of the potential leaders with the undead Kojo moved aside out of the peripheral vision of the little girl and he had hoped, the suited thing, To cover his intentions he quickly said, "Me tink it best sumone check os perimeter. To be safe, Me be back shortly."

Thankfully no one took much notice of his actions or his comment. He then circled around when he was sure to be out of eyesight by the two undead and curved around to find a prime spot to rush the girl from the behind

It was at this point that Alma-diah started talking, and he motioned for her to continue, to keep the undead focused on her. He froze, only ten steps behind the little girl when Alma mentioned him. He glared at her, for bringing attention to him was not a good thing. He shook his head as Alma then mentioned about the other group of undead they had encountered. Kojo didn't feel that these undead were any different from the others, and in fact, thought all who died should stay dead.

Regardless, he kept moving forward, silently pulling out Viper from it's scabbard, as the armor suddenly seemed to loose it's functionality and an orb came out from the suit that suddenly slumped down. He froze again. keeping one eye on the orb and another on the girl with the ugly human, the resting old man, and Alma behind them. He waited, and waited, as the orb spoke. The mere fact that it spoke unnerved Kojo even more. and he knew now that the little one had to be captured immediately to keep him and his companions on a level that would make the orbed one not attack them. Kojo tried not to laugh at the ridiculous tale the orb had weaved. More so about the pompous name of ever-living. That which is dead, that does not breathe, that does not eat, or procreate is not living. But a unnatural effigy, a bastardization, of life.

Finally, after the orb finished talking Kojo bolted forward, wrapping an arm around the little girl and sliding Viper up against her neck as he moved back and to the right from the Orb.


"Yu orb stay dere or your friend will get hurt. Me noh trust yu. How do we knoh if what yu sed be tru? we can noh for noting yu can say will prove dat yu are friendly. Sure yu no attack os, but dat could be a ploy. Surely yu can noh believe dis either, Alma.. old man?" Finally he did laugh, at the ever-living bit The laugh was deep, cold and sharply cut off as he added, "Ever-living? Yu should noh be and yu noh like de living, see dis one here don't breathe. Dat's not living, but a mockery of it. De dead shuld stay dead. Me do noh tink it wise to bring dem back to Ehkrash. Dey may be spies."

He moved a bit farther from the orb, and closer to his companions, dragging the little girl with. He then added, speaking to the orb now directly, "What are yu? Any more like yu wid dat suit? Tell os what kind o weapons yu undead have. Information is all me feel is best to take back to Ehkrash. Yu are not welcome dere, Dat me sure of an me noh jus mean meself, but all who live dere."

__________________________________________

Status: Slightly unnerved, mildly wounded from earlier battle but mostly healed
With: An orb, the ugly woman, Alma, a child undead, and the old man
Location: Somewhere near the border of gethen-meaer
Mood: Distrustful and worried, mildly mentally disturbed.