нαℓ'яεтн мεяcεηαяy gυιℓ∂

[Laeleslin]

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My hands, like embers

"Well welcome aboard," Mystra said warmly, trying to change the subject after Fyrian's oddly hostile remark. She settled a light saddle on Femke and, since the Friesian was a short breed, mounted easily. The mare pawed the ground, her hoof sending tiny shale fragments rolling back down the hill towards the Guild.

Thinking Fyrian's words over, she couldn't help but silently agree with the Guild Master's decision to demote Fyrian, or at least temporarily reassign him, as she gleaned from his statement had happened. In her experience, diplomacy required tact and above all else politeness. She admitted, there had been times when she had wanted to knock someone senseless in her negotiations, but her job wasn't about herself.. it was about the Guild. So when Fyrian had responded in such a manner to Selena's businesslike question, Mystra could not help but question his methods and temperament. With that in mind, she was grateful for the unexpected company of the half demon, though she knew even less of her comportment than Fyrian's.

"Now if the two of you are ready, shall we begin our journey?"

burn holes through reality

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[thraelyn]

Selena Sandfletch

Selena was a little taken aback by Fyrian's comment. She'd dealt with racists before, but rarely encountered them in the guild, or at least not agents who were open about it. She held back a sigh - she was regretting more and more that there'd been no time for rest before this mission.

Still, it wouldn't do to have an ally seething behind her back on the road.

"You mistake me, Lithlonde," she said gruffly. "I asked for the earliest available mission. I know nothing of any personal issues you may have with guild leadership."

She mounted the gelding competently, but lacking in her usual grace. Of course it had to be horses, on top of everything else. She shifted in the saddle.

"Be that as it may, I am ready to depart," she said to Mystra with a half-smile.

[Starlight Zero]

Fyrian watched every bit of Selena's motions as he could read her restraint, and he quickly realized his error in regarding her so rashly immediately. Simple frustration can reveal much about a person, but striking someone deeply will only cause them to cave in on themselves. He hadn't taken the time to realize the racist implications of what he was saying. Though no one else in the guild knew it, to his knowledge anyways, he could relate to some of the difficulties in being a halfbreed. He had been careful in keeping his elven ancestry a secret after his more youthful years. Now he'd have to wait for tensions to cool before probing any information from her.

Fyrian bit his tongue and let out a resigned sigh. After giving a slight bow of his head to Selena, he walked over to where his favorite horse was being kept and mounted up, checking over one last time that he had everything he needed. Satisfied, he led his horse over to the main group.

He looked to Mystra and Selena and said, "I'm ready to go now. There's no use lingering around here much longer."

[Laucien_Nailo]

The Dance of Death is easy to learn...

ARINE SANNTHA

Combat Teacher

Arine woke up early in the morning with a yawn and his mental checklist. His eyes danced from one object to the next in his spartan quarters, first alighting on Ka and Mi, his favored weapons, which were resting on the floor next to his bed. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed as his gaze continued around the room. A short, well made dresser occupied a wall and contained most of his worldly possessions. The single door was barred from the inside with a plank of oak to prevent any unwelcome visitors. Another wall was occupied by a simple table with one chair and a lamp. Upon the table lay a list of recent recruits that Arine had been testing to determine their skill levels.

Arine jumped out of his bed, his feet making a resounding thud against the bare stone of the floor. He dressed himself in a simple tunic and leggings along with a light leather vest before unbarring the door and exiting. "I wonder how many are going to show up this early, especially with the condition I left them in." Arine chuckled to himself as he made his way to the training yard.

But takes Eternity to forget...

[Laeleslin]

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My hands, like embers

Femke set off at a slow pace at first, picking her way down a back path of shale-covered hill. The sinuous path moved downwards before slicing into the mountain pass. The way grew harsher, the trees only breaking the rocky landscape intermittently and the pleasant smells of breakfast being prepared drifting away on the stiff breeze that constantly assaulted the pass. Mystra looked out over the Branwyn mountains, rising like the teeth of some fierce aquatic beast to capture the sky.The air was not as thin here in the pass as it was in the heart of the mountains, and the sorceress breathed easy under the gentle trotting of Femke.

As they moved downwards, the path widened to admit stark boulders of granite and sandstone, still slick with the morning dew. Although she couldn't see them, she knew sentries stalked silently amongst them, a comforting thought, for otherwise the boulders were an excellent ambush point. Although not opposed to small talk, Mystra was silent this morn, preferring the sights of the ride as entertainment. This time of the day, they were usually lucky enough to spot wildlife of some sort, usually a proud mountain goat or the more common lizard. Sure enough, just as they were rounding a sharp bend in the pass, a small but formidable badger snuffled out of a rocky outcropping and considered them for a moment before trundling back the way he came. Mystra chuckled and nudged Femke into a canter.

burn holes through reality

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[thraelyn]

Selena Sandfletch

The horse moved and rolled under Selena in what felt like a constant jerking motion. Even the most sure-footed horses in the guild made the steep path out of the mountains uncomfortable as they picked their way around rocks and roots, sometimes even sliding a span or more on patches of shale. Selena gripped hard with her legs and resigned herself to a mission on horseback - though her own power was quicker and easier over short distances, she knew she'd need the horse's endurance if the journey was any length.

Not that she had any idea where they were going, and it made her uneasy. For the time being they passed through guild lands - she could hear the scattered sentries breathing as they watched the passing group, the rustle of their clothes as they shifted position and weight. She did not look, however, as she'd been told it made them feel uncomfortable and exposed.

Usually Selena would have been perfectly happy to ride in silence, but the continued lack of information still gnawed at her. The sun was rising, and still not a word from either of her riding companions. Selena cleared her throat.

"I don't mean to rise above my place in this mission, but a little more information on where we are going and what we might expect would be...helpful," Selena spoke softly, but loud enough for both other riders to hear. "And it might be better to discuss the details while we're still in friendly lands."

[_Athena_Woman_]

G r e g o r y M c g r y i e r
Guild Foreign Ambassador

Gregory hoisted the boy up onto the horse. He wasn't doing himself justice, you know, thought Gregory. The weathering of the boy's skin said he wasn't much younger then the ambassador. But there was something in those eyes, an innocence not yet lost, that separated the veteran from the novice by light years. It was the twinkle of youth though, that made the ambassador remember what he had lost. A crack broke in that tough exterior that the hellish vampires had painted over him and a slight smile broke through. He shot the others a smile, who were glad to see the ambassador's mood cheering up. Gregory turned to Nicolas. "Boy, don't you know that you can do anything?" He chuckled.

"Yes it's true," said the messenger, who introduced himself to Nicolas as Mark," I grew up on a farm on the outskirts of the elven forest. My pa' meant for me to be a stable hand before I ran away. Hal'reth is the place of runaways that turn into merchants, assassins, guild leaders, and thieves. If you're willing to represent such a menagerie, then it's the place for you."

The other two ambassadors agreed with the messenger. Both men had started in different places across the land but found they dreamed of grander lifestyles then a fisherman or a foot soldier. It was the promise of equality, if you could make it, of Hal'reth that had caused them to give up everything they owned and journey to the second city of the mountains.

"If you wish to become an ambassador or anything that you can dream, Hal'reth is the right place. Let's go."

Gregory's callused hands gripped the reigns and he kicked the white Arabian in the haunch and the group were off across the country side. to see and do grander things then they had dreamed. Laughter traveled with the group through the blur of the meadow past Midnight City, from Gregory's dark past to the road ahead.

The road winded through gentle rolling hills of the plains which were scattered with farmhouses of various creatures. The five stuck mainly to the river, because it was the safest and most reliable path back to Hal'reth, which was located near the source of the water and best positioned to transfer goods along it. The sky, a rich light blue, was speckled with clouds that did not promise rain for the next several days. A wispy breeze trickled through air that was dry, but warm. The jubilee mood stuck with the five all the way through the hills until they reached the low lying region called the Drove, where a small town inhabited it like a napping bear at the very beginning of the Branwyn mountains. You could sense it was a calm and steady place, but one that could migrate with ease if better food was found elsewhere. The inhabitants of the Drove where the decedents of nomads, back before irrigation and farming was widespread, and they would travel through the plains with the seasons, searching for food. It gave the region a temporary feel, though the town and the inn that Gregory was to meet his contact had been built out of strong wood over eighty years ago.

Most of the times Gregory passed through this area the locals would say business was good, the rains were plenty, but you know, that could change. They spoke of migration like your grandparents spoke of mowing the grass, or how it was time to get a new car because that old lincon towncar was bought thirty years ago. That was how Gregory had known the Drove, until the group passed through the three foot wall around the city.

"Oh my God," breathed Mark.

[Laeleslin]

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My hands, like embers

Mystra would have blushed if she had been capable of it. The new orders had only left her with a few hours to prepare and the ride had been so enjoyable that the thought that the others were not filled in had completely escaped her mind. She considered the witch seal's words for a moment, pondering what was important and what wasn't and gave it up in the end."To be honest," she said, shifting her weight on Femke, "the orders were a bit vague. We are to travel the road to Midnight Capitol, rendezvous with Ambassador Mcgryier and accompany him back to the Hal'reth. I am not surprised that Ardin did not divulge the details of the mission as the instructions came from Guild Master Coste himself."

She glanced to her two riding companions, pulling her eyes away from the scenery and allowing them to settle on Selena. The woman's subservient comment could have stemmed from many things: low self-esteem, rejection or persecution due to her heritage, a loyal work ethic, etc. "I don't like that talk about things being above you," she said earnestly with an easy smile on her lips. "Your place in this mission is just as valuable as my own or Ardin would not have placed you with me." Though she doubted they would encounter combat on this simple escort mission, she concluded with something she hoped Selena took to heart. "Your life is on the line just as much as my own and you deserve to know what you're getting into. I only wish it was more glorious than it sounds."

The morning sun had fully progressed to the apex of a wintry sky and winked cheerfully overhead. At last the towering granite walls of the pass opened up in the distance to reveal the infinitely blue Arbor Lake, like a vast puddle of icing on the landscape. Deceptively close looking, the mouth of the pass was more than a half day's ride in distance, ensuring they would make camp before reaching it. After another hour or so had elapsed, she turned her attention to Fyrian. "I know it's still a while yet," she began, "but would you care to select our camp for the night?"

burn holes through reality

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[Laucien_Nailo]

The Dance of Death is easy to learn...

ARINE SANNTHA

Combat Teacher

When Arine reached the training yard, there were only two other people there. The two men were sparring with metal poles in the middle of the yard. Arine didn't know the men personally, but he had seen them every now and then. One of them was a burly human whose name was Erik while the other was a wiry human with some elven blood in him. What was his name again? Oh right, Allen. Arine thought to himself as he started some basic stretches.

He continued to watch the pair as he stretched. When he finished, he walked over to the weapons rack and grabbed a wooden sword. "Hey Allen, Erik, how do you feel about a practice match against me?" Arine said with a slight flourish. Allen turned to give a reply when Erik caught him in the stomach with his pole. Allen bent over at the waist and coughed while glaring malevolently at Erik. Erik just smiled and started walking over towards Arine. "Sure, why not." He said, "I'll go first. Do you wanna grab a metal one? Or should I switch to wooden?" Erik asked.

But takes Eternity to forget...

[Eric De LeCroix]

Nicolas Van D'Crois

Nicolas smiled at the prospect of being an ambassador, or perhaps a guild leader? He doubted the latter was any more possible than walking to the moon, he decided to keep his doubt quiet. It was delightful to listen to everyone tell the stories of how they’d come to join Hal’reth. He began to picture himself telling his own story to a young companion a few years down the road, Nicolas entertained many such ideas over the next few hours.

The boy stared towards Midnight Capitol as they passed, the great city of Vampires, he thought. The idea of visiting the place had crossed his mind many times through out his years, a city where wonder and danger went hand in hand; it was the kind of place every boy dreamed of finding adventure. He wanted to see the old ruins and churches, and the great mansions; he wanted to confirm their existence. Once he found out he’d hurry home and tell Constance; they’d often debated over weather or not the legends had had any truth to them. Nicolas wanted to ask if they could go, but it was obviously something they’d have to do another day.

Nicolas was mesmerized by the beauty of the Branwyn mountains, which were moving steadily closer. Their snow capped peaks were a great contrast to the blue skies overhead, and the sheer size of them took his breath away. It was then he decided that the choice to leave home had not been a bad one, there was no reason one should stay in the home of his father to never experience sights like these; it would, in the end, be a perfect waste of a life.

Next he noted the city at the foot of the mountains; it was impressive, old, though it seemed as if it could easily be moved. Strange, he thought, how could a city be grand as this, and at the same time so fragile that one wonders if it is merely a trick of the mind? The answer came to him a moment later, Nomads, the boy wondered at his stupidity, but of course.

Suddenly the boy was pulled from his trance, something up ahead wasn’t quite right. The procession had suddenly halted and the others had become rather uneasy. “Whats going on,’’ he asked with a hint of nervous excitement.

___________________
E.D.LECROIX

(Sorry everyone, I just moved so I've been away for a while. And to Athena, I wanted to expand a very little bit on some of the things you mentioned in your post -- hopefully I didn't mess up any of your ideas. )

[_Athena_Woman_]

G r e g o r y M c g r y i e r
Guild Foreign Ambassador

What caught Gregory's eye first was how clear the streets were going into the city. The horse's hooves reverberated against the cobblestones crisply because there wasn't a sound to cancel the noise. But instead of a clean city, Gregory pulled up on his horse's reigns because there was no where to go. All of the merchant tents that lined the main road through the city lay in abandon heaps and jumbles, smashed against the houses like a giant stone sphere had plowed through the city in the middle of the day. But if this was the case, where the bodies then?

"Where are the people?" asked Mark. Gregory didn't voice his thoughts on the matter. He and the others fanned through the gate to look at the mess around them.

Crushed timber and broken, jagged splinters that lay like crushed Christmas trees in every direction communicated effortlessly that the others couldn't travel through on the horses. The five dismounted and started to travel through the city. Gregory knew the nomads hadn't left, for he could see through some of the windows dinners were left on the tables along with cold cups of freshly poured coffee. It was though they had stumbled after the end of times. If it wasn't for the mayhem in the center of the city, he would have thought this was a trick, an illusion of a city. He reached down and pricked his finger against one of the giant splinters. A welt of blood surfaced. The pain was real, and so was the blood, he thought as he tasted it, so it was no illusion. He signaled the others to be on their guard and they began to forge ahead through the waist deep rubble.

((Not at all Eric! Feel free to ad lib! Yeah, so I couldn't decide if the Christmas tree metaphor made sense. Let me know if it doesn't.))

[thraelyn]

Selena Sandfletch


Selena inclined her head to Mystra and returned to riding in silence. Guild escorts were usually treated like dirt, or worse, by the wealthy merchants and noble families who hired them, but it made little difference to her. Still, it was nice to know she was working with someone who would answer her questions.

But, orders from the guild master himself? Perhaps that wasn't unusual for Mystra. Selena's unofficial missions were usually approved by the first or second of the guild, but she hadn't had one of those for weeks, and it had been months since the last true challenge. Maybe that explained her recent restlessness, the sense that things had acquired any eerie calm, the kind that used to come before the great sandstorms on the road to Shar Delee - silence, waiting for the onslaught of wind and sand that would fill your clothes and eyes and teeth with grit, the storms where you could hear the pack animals choking on the dust even if you could no longer see them...

Selena shook herself out of the reverie. They would soon be out of guild lands, and she needed her wits about her. She had a feeling that this simple escort mission would be much more than it appeared.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

[Eric De LeCroix]

Eric De LeCroix

Nicolas Van D'Crois

Nicolas trailed a few yards behind the others. The completeness of destruction amazed him, though not half as much as the fact that the surrounding homes looked virtually untouched in comparison. Who,he thought, or what could have done this? It had only been a few days since he'd left his childhood home and already the beliefs he held of the world had been completely shattered.

He approached a jumbled pile of wood and squatted down to examine it, he noted that the it was wet and had a rather distinct smell. Beneath a small opening in - what was left of the merchant's stand - a flash of green caught his eye, Nicolas reached for it, hoping he wouldn't cut himself in doing so. It was melon, as he had suspected, sadly it wasn't very fresh anymore; Nick tossed the fruit to the ground.

"Do you know how this happened," he shouted, running to catch up to the others. The scene did not make any sense to him, and he hoped the same was true for the others - maybe he wouldn't look so stupid. Nicolas clasped his hands over his mouth, wishing he hadn't shouted, for at that precise moment Gregory had motioned for everyone to take care.

___________________
E.D.LECROIX

[Starlight Zero]

Fyrian was enjoying the quietness and calm of the march out of the guild hall. Out here in the open, he was finally able to not worry so much about his appearances in the guild. However, he felt his heart tugging at him slightly. Why had he risked such a bluntly racist comment towards Selena? He understood what it's like to be a half breed hardly accepted by either race you belong to. It was those reasons, and a little bit of chance, that led him down the path of becoming a beguiler and being able to conceal his true identities.

Maybe Fyrian was too preoccupied in trying to weave conspiracies in the guild. Hal'Reth certainly was nothing like the thieves guilds he was accustomed to. Treating the guild in the same attitude that he had been treating a low life thief guild with was probably not the greatest way to conduct his business. Was being in the guild too much for his usual ways? Or is it finally becoming clear to him that he must change much of the way he thought? He shook his head as the thoughts began to overwhelm his mind.

The question that Mystra directed towards Fyrian was finally what released him from his thoughts. He held his hand up to the horizon, taking careful measure of the sun. He noticed that there was at least two hours of daytime left, maybe a little more. He had spent nearly the entire day lost in thoughts. Letting out a sigh, Fyrian regarded Mystra after a long pause.

"You should know that I am a city dweller of the underground and thus not well accustomed to the ways of the wild," Fyrian said to her, somewhat light-heartedly despite the edge of his tone. Regardless, he looked out and spotted what appeared to be a slightly raised flat land, close to the edge of the hills beside them. He pointed out to it and looked to Mystra, saying, "That would be as good of place as any."

[Laeleslin]

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My hands, like embers

The sorceress smiled broadly at Fyrian's response. "I would think a resourceful man such as yourself would have gotten used to it by now," she added and began to examine the location he had indicated. It was no more than a forty minute ride downwards, towards the sloping hills that melted into the pass. After that their remaining daylight would be spent making camp. The area would indeed be suitable for the night. It was secluded enough to insure they would not attract attention and yet the raise in elevation the miniature plateau offered would give them an advantage when they took turns through the watches of the night. "A fine choice indeed," she commented after having surveyed the area.

As the ride continued, Mystra allowed the veil of silence that had covered them previously to descend again. Although she prided herself, perhaps overly so, on her ability to manipulate words, she was equally fond of the absence of them. Her time in the academy had taught her how to refine her magic and given her a healthy respect for the arcane and yet, in her own mind, language had a magic all its own. The way the tongue shaped sounds to convey the simplest or most complex of ideas, how it could sway and persuade others to her cause and avoid almost certain conflict. She considered it an asset as invaluable as her own unique magics. And yet, like the arcane forces she wielded, it held a dark side...

Femke's hooves practically danced down the pass towards their destination, as if she sensed the end of their day's journey. Having traveled for hours on rough terrain, she would undoubtedly find welcome relief in the softening of shale floor to the green of the hills. Mystra recalled vividly the moment she had seen that dark side for what it was and, as if by some mysterious twist of fate from a capricious divine hand, it was the same moment that she discovered she possessed magic.

Colored figures whirled round her in a sinuous, hypnotic blaze of music and wine. Her parents moved effortlessly amongst the elite, shaking hands and dipping bows in a seemingly inane ritual that she had come to recognize as an essential diplomatic tool. She stood, surrounded by a crowd of young ladies and dilettantes. In their center, like the hub of some vibrant, opulently adorned wheel stood Lord DeWiss, son of Duke Efford himself. Though not a small woman, Charles DeWiss stood a full head taller than Mystra. With a face uncommonly possessed with good features and a stature that defied all defects, Lord DeWiss had unfortunately developed a character that was both cold and cruel. He fancied himself the object of affection and envy of his peers and, yet, he despised them all the while.

Her memory failed her as to the exact words he said to her that evening, grasping her lacy hand lightly and leaning it to whisper with lips that grinned wickedly as the dancers continued their flashing display. Though the touch of his hand on hers burned her, even beneath her delicate lilac glove, his eyes were... hollow and frigid. A feeling welled up within her, sudden and black. It was as if dark waters were rising inside her and she was drowning in them. To be spoken to as a common whore... while out of the corner of her eyes she could see her mother's green dress scrape the floor as she curtsied to Duke Efford. Mystra wanted to kill him. She had never wanted to kill anyone in her life and she wanted to kill him then and there, in front of the wall of silken skirts and immaculate collars. The burning in her hand was growing so fierce that she could barely stand it, but his grip had intensified and with a slow start she realized her lips were moving and that the sound spilling forth was her own voice. These words, like his, escaped her. But judging from the sudden breach of surprise into those pools of empty gray irises, they had been right on the mark. With a flash of horror she realized that the burning in her hand was visible, a white hot sparking that emanated from her fingertips into Lord DeWiss' rigid hand and that the look that entered his eyes was fear, not surprise. She pulled back, releasing him.

Mystra wondered bleakly, as Femke cantered into the prospective camp sight, if she had let go out of horror or surprise.

burn holes through reality

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