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Post by xaen on May 10, 2011 22:56:06 GMT 1
After Vlan’Tur had seated himself next to Cam Rue, the Duke continued down the line to his own seat at the head of the table between the General and Accountant. He barely managed to seat himself before the first outraged protests exploded from his unruly council in an incomprehensible jumble of seemingly endless shouts that mixed together. Saria, Cam and Clover unlike the others remained silent and exchanged concerned glances as Vlan’Tur scowled at the performance, much to the Duke’s dismay. He let the three gentlemen continue their ranting for a few minutes more before deciding to put them in their place. “That is quite enough!!!” Cyrteris roared the sound of his voice making the silverware clink and clatter together, and when his curled fists pound onto the hard wooden table the entire table shook. Galsious, Rasvin and Tedronnis all flinched away from the furious Duke, and Saria visibly cringed at his terrifying outburst; new found respect appeared on the Vorshtaran’s face at the display of power. “Gentlemen, we will treat all guests with complete respect or not at all!” Glaring threateningly at his three male council men as he spoke, before shooting a polite smile to Vlan’Tur. “Please forgive, my ungracious councilmen’s poor language and rude comments,” Cyrteris apologized in an even tone as he matched gazes with the now once again impassive looking Vorshtaran.
Before anyone could say anything more, the fiery Rasvin slammed his own fists on the table, though with much less effect than his superior. “Why in the names of all the gods!!! Should we respect this monstrous savage!!” The vulture-man bellow hardly reaching the same volume as Cyrteris, as he shot a dangerously threatening look at Vlan’Tur; who bristled at the hateful words, but showed no other signs of his anger. “He should be hanged and sent to the hells!! Along with the rest of those murderous fiends!!” Rasvin screamed again at the top of his weaker lungs as he continued to glare at the much larger Vlan’Tur, malicious glistening in Rasvin’s almost pitch black eyes. “We should slaugh---” That was as far as he got before Cyrteris’ powerful fists connected with the table once again, his fierce brown eyes boring holes through the impudent noblemen.
“Rasvin that is more than enough!! Apologize now if you value your miserable life!!” Cyrteris growled through clenched teeth as he stared the man down, until the man grumbled his apologizes under his breath. Then to the Duke’s relief the servants carried in a wondrous variety of expensive meats, vegetables, wines, pastries, and bread stuffs. Vlan’Tur visibly relaxed as the food was set along the length of the table, and the three viscous male council men turned their attention from him to their food. With a deep sigh of relief, Cyrteris watched as Vlan’Tur eagerly filled his plate with food and so did the others; thereby saving the poor flustered Duke from any heated exchanges for a while. A few casual conversations broke out between bites from all his guests, with the occasional grunted answer from the quiet Vorshtaran diplomat. As the Duke watched and listened, he packed his own plate with steamed vegetables, roast boar, chicken, sweet bread and potatoes. Cyrteris joined the casual discussions between mouthfuls as he gobbled down his food, silently hoping that he could fix the damage that Rasvin and the others had made for him.
On the inside of his impassive façade, Vlan’Tur was both furiously outraged and amused by his terrible reception from the three males sitting closest to the Duke. The Duke’s display of power and control had brought a respectful smile to his usually stoic features, and as the weakling Rasvin spoke his face flushed and curled with anger. If not for the importance of his mission and the fact that he was outnumbered, Vlan’Tur would have snapped the little birdman’s scrawny neck. ‘Cyrteris might even let me kill the impudent worm’ Vlan’Tur mused as he looked long and hard at each guest, trying to figure out where they stood in this. Clearly the fat one, old one, and crow-like one wanted him dead, the raven haired beauty and the pair of red heads both seemed interested as to his purpose. Before he could think on it more, a bunch of people caring platters and squat pots with food on entered the room and hastily laid the massive feast along the table. Wondrous aromas assaulted the Vorshtaran’s nose as he stared mouth watering at each and every exotic dish before him, never in his life had he seen such an array of food! Like a greedy child the massive brute of a man piled his plate high with food, ignoring most of the light conversations as he gorged himself; only occasionally offering a grunt as an answer to any questions sent his way. Once he finished and as most of the others were finishing, Vlan’Tur continued to look intently at each guest trying to measure up his opponents. The pair of red heads seemed just out of place as he, for they seemed incredibly uncomfortable around these council dandies and were quite tense around him; while the other five (the Duke included) had long ago relaxed. “So who are you two? And what is your purpose on the council of Fort Revenald?” He asked in his deep baritone voice after a few moments, staring hard into the grey eyes of the young man of the pair. Vlan’Tur didn’t have the slightest who any of them were except for the vulture Rasvin and Duke Mraen, but he thought this quiet pair that stayed out of the initial argument the best place to start looking for possible support amongst this unruly council.
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Post by Culmir on May 11, 2011 12:33:43 GMT 1
Cam and Clover sank back in their chairs as pandemonium erupted around them the minute the duke took his rightful place at the head of his long dining table. They were taken aback by the ferocious proclamations of death towards the guest sitting quietly beside Cam, his only visible response was that he tensed, scowled but remained otherwise stoically silent, bearing the brunt of the insults in some manner of dignity. The shock of hearing such outrage directed a man who appeared to sit so calmly must of registered on the twins face for a mere second as they listened to the death wishes thrown casually into the conversation before the duke slammed his fist down on the table. Clover reached out instinctively to her kodachi once more, her grey eyes surveying the scene intently while Cam beside her merely returned his glass back into its upright position, having been knocked over by the tremor that the dukes fist caused in the table.
Both of the Rue kids expected this to have settled the matter and smiled politely at Vlan'Tur who remained unfazed by all the going-ons and gave no outward inclination to having accepted the dukes apology for his guests apart from a small smile that curled up his lips ever so slightly. It was therefor a bit of a surprise when the hawk like man named Rasvin decided to continue the argument even though the duke had ended it swiftly. Cam frowned as he stared at the man, was he trying to get himself killed? who would talk to his superior in such a manner, after having clearly been told the argument was to cease and desist, the duke had even apologized already, having Rasvin blatantly disregard his ruling put the duke in quite the predicament. Eager to see this play out Cam shifted his light grey eyes between the two until the duke once again slammed his fist down upon the table, having expected it this time Cam caught onto his jumping glass deftly as it hung suspended in mid air momentarily before it could tumble over once more. Placing it back onto the table Cam heard the hissed apologies from Rasvin, the mans voice laced heavy with contempt and malice, making every word he spoke nasty to the point of where he could proclaim his love for someone and still make it sound like a horrible insult.
Clover shifted her cutlery back into their right position as she played idly with her napkin, for the time being it would seem the best to pretend to be an air-headed girl who was merely obliging the duke by attending his dinner, until the duke decided it were best to disclose the reasoning behind their presence. It was the smell of food that made Clover look up swiftly, her short red hair whipping slightly with the motion as her grey eyes locked onto the numerous dishes that were being carried in by servants and placed onto the table until most of the space was taken up by dishes and bowls. The aroma was heavenly as it wafted up from the various plates, it took a large amount of willpower on Clovers end not to pile the food up on her plate and stuff it down her mouth as fast as she could. Her stomach growled in protest as she watched enviously as the large man beside Cam piled bits of everything onto his large growing pile on his plate, Clover resigned to taking small amounts, finishing those and then simply getting more, this way she figured she could eat as much as she wanted, without seeming to stuff herself.
Cam had no such restrictions, he watched how Vlan'Tur piled his plate as high as it could go before it would topple over and spill onto the beautiful table cloth, his eyes then found the large form of Galsious Harven who had rivalled the tanned man in the sizing of his plate. Shrugging to himself Cam figured he might as well take advantage of being fed properly and piled bits of everything onto his plate before began to eat, the food was rich and succulent, the meat was spiced perfectly to leave a pleasant little tingle on the tip of his tongue and the wine being served with the food was a lovely rich flowery scent with a cinnamon aftertaste. Conversation around them erupted and Cam took the moments distraction to address his sister while he could, angling himself away from Vlan'Tur he looked at Clover "Strange folk hrm?" he spoke softly, so not to be overheard as the other conversation drowned out his words. Clover looked up from her fork full of some kind of vegetable pie "They're aristocrats, what did you expect?" she answered before continuing to eat her food slowly. Cam smiled and shook his head slightly before returning to his own food, he was surprised when a deep rumbling voice spoke to him from his right asking him who he and his sister were and what their purpose is. Thinking hastily Cam decided the truth was best in this situation, his eyes found the dukes momentarily before he returned his gaze back to Vlan'Tur who was staring hard into Cams grey eyes as if he could unravel his history by looking at him. Steeling himself, grey eyes going as hard as stone Cam smiled "Sorry, you have missed the introductory round, I am Cam and this is my sister Clover" he said, indicating his shorter sister beside him who gave a half hearted head tilt, intend on her meal more than conversation "We're not on the council, but were invited to dinner by the duke earlier this day" he finished politely, holding the plainsmans gaze comfortably.
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Post by xaen on May 13, 2011 0:03:07 GMT 1
“Its an honour Cam, I am Vlan’Tur, ambassador for the invincible shaman Xaxistics,” Vlan’Tur bellowed proudly in his baritone voice as he matched gazes with this worthy Erumaran; who unlike most of the others showed backbone like the Duke.
“And how in the names of the gods did such swine earn a place at this table,” Rasvin snapped suddenly all eyes turning his way, the man’s sharp leer only intensifying his bird-like persona. Rasvin then rose from his chair and strolled down the length of the table to stand directly behind the Rue twins, a fierce sneer stretched across his grotesquely long features. “They are nothing, but common thieves and lousy ones at that,” He growled as he stared into Cyrteris’ shocked expression, Rasvin quieted waiting for an answer to his shrewd remarks.
General Tedronnis was just as surprised as the Duke was when the scrawny Rasvin launched this information from his catapult mouth at young Cyrteris. The General was soon thinking long and hard as to how Rasvin had seen the daily report that recorded this pair in a minor crime against a noblewoman, a report that was for his and Cyrteris’ eyes only. ‘Maybe its time to clean house,’ Tedronnis thought as he came to the realization that one of his trusted street commanders most have momentarily slipped the report to the feisty merchant, a thought that lead to a string of other security breach notions.
Saria and Galsious gasped in unison as Rasvin made his shocking announcement to all of the guest present in the Duke’s dinning hall. The pair traded a confused glance trying to figure out how the vulture man managed to scavenge this important piece of Intel. They both wore deep frowns on their clean normal faces that revealed their sympathy for the now uneasy and no doubt embarrassed Rue twins. Saria silently praying that this new information didn’t damage the fragile respect between Vlan’Tur and Cyrteris. “What the Hell are you doing Rasvin?” She rasped just loud enough for him and the Rue’s to hear as the vulture began to circle the table heading back like a boomerang to Cyrteris; who the whole while sat stunned silent in his large and heavily decorated chair.
“Moving things along,” Rasvin hissed into Saria’s ear as he past behind her, his lust for her dripping from each word. Snapping his arms out wide like a starfish the foul merchant halted beside the Duke and glared hatefully at him before asking, “Well? Has the lion suddenly lost his bite and is afraid to answer my questions?” The Merchant howled with sick laughter as Cyrteris locked gazes with him, as before Rasvin quickly averted his eyes; feigning false interest in the crest on the wall behind Duke Mraen.
Cyrteris could not believe his eyes and ears, as the rowdy Rasvin rose from his bird-like perch on his chair to fly around the room mocking Cyrteris’ decision to invite his rescuers to dinner. ‘Why in the all the hells is Rasvin trying so hard to sabotage this meeting with the Vorshtaran missionary?’ Cyrteris wondered quietly to himself as the young merchant continued to mock and insult his guests, and the Duke himself. Though the robbery reference did momentarily surprise the young Duke, but he dismissed such prejudice knowing full well that he would have done the same if he were in their shoes. So Cyrteris silently listened to the merchant’s crude tirade, and tried desperately not to throttle the man when he openly insulted him. After a short moment Duke Cyrteris Mraen simply and honestly answered the stupid man, “They saved my life when I was assaulted in an alley by a band of ruffians.” The cold deliverance of the statement knocked the over pretentious Rasvin back on his black booted heels, a worried look growing on his face as he realized the severity of his offence. “Now sit down and apologize to my personnel guests or leave this council meeting by your own accord while you still can,” The Duke growled through clenched teeth as he rose from his seat to stare the impudent bastard into submission. Rasvin clearly choose to excuse himself from the meeting, an embarrassed scowl growing on his face as he closed the doors loudly behind him. Taking a long slow breath the Duke settled his nerves and sat back down into his comfortable seat, looking down the way at his three main guest. “I apologize for his crude manner, he usually is a more polite fellow,” Cyrteris ran his hand though his hair as he paused momentarily, “So Vlan’Tur would you please speak of your noble purpose here?”
Vlan’Tur watched dumbstruck by the continuing audacity of the council man, that Cyteris had knocked him off his high horse twice already. The Vorshtaran’s noble blood seemed to burn inside his veins, as he flushed in outrage at the slander the foul raven-man directed at his Duke and fellow countrymen. Vlan’Tur firmly squeezed the edge of the table in front of him, his powerful knuckles turning white from the effort and the wood groaning from the strain. Everyone remained silent as they all watched the vile Rasvin continue to smear the Duke and his guests names with his harsh and unnecessary truths. Vlan’Tur hardly cared for the Rue twins transgressions because he quickly realized over dinner that they were a pair of beggars; he discovered this by watching how they ate and that they displayed signs of malnutrition. The mighty Vorshtaran’s respect grew further for the Duke that was close to his age, when the man yet again put the yippy bitch back into its leash and kicked it out the door. Again the Duke apologized on behalf of the unpleasant council member moments after Rasvin slammed the door behind him. Then Vlan’Tur’s heart sunk when the Duke requested to know the meaning of his presence as a diplomat for the shaman Xaxistics, knowing that the information he had to deliver would put a damper on the budding friendship between him and the other guests. The Vorshtaran diplomat quickly grew uncomfortable as all eyes were fixed on him, making him wish that thing could have been different. But than he sharply reminded himself of the terrible things that the Erumaran people had done to his, as the wise shaman had told him. “I am here for your complete and utter surrender of Fort Revenald and all of the northern Erumaran lands to my people in three days time, or suffer the sting of our blades in combat,” Vlan’Tur bellowed using the sheer volume of his voice to mask his tones of deep regret as he rose swiftly from the table and gathered up his quarterstaff from where it leaned near the door, and sheepishly fled the room feeling foolish for thinking that these Erumaran could be friendly to his people. When in truth they were all like that fiendish Rasvin on the inside, Vlan’Tur told himself as he returned to his quarters trying desperately to justify the possible war between his people and the Erumarans. Vlan’Tur got no sleep that night.
The world seemed to freeze as Vlan’Tur roared before making a hasty retreat from the room, leaving his horrifying words behind for the remaining guests to chew on. Cyrteris’ skin paled as he lost himself in deep thought, ignoring his once again shouting council; the poor Duke desperately in the need of aid for the second time that day.
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Post by Dracafrey on May 13, 2011 19:32:02 GMT 1
Venorik stood atop one of the houses staring down into the streets below, watching the two adolescent kids following the duke to his palace. Keeping the three targets he was now following from high above the street in his view, as Venorik leaped stealthily from rooftop to rooftop. Cautioning himself as he leaped to a roof with a patrolling guard, waiting for the guard to turn his back to him, as then Venorik silently snuck up behind him, thrusting a dagger into the guard’s neck. Gently laying the man down as he looked around for his targets down below. Minutes passed as he finally saw them turning a corner a fair distance away. Grumbling to himself he stood again and took off after them over the rooftops in a blur, pouncing on unexpecting guards, leaving them to die on the roof’s to rot slowly in the soft warm sun of spring. Venorik stopped suddenly watching his targets come to a halt in front of the gate of the palace, where the duke’s own guards were giving him a hard time due to his disguise. “What buffoons they are.” As the guards finally discovered it was the duke and let him and his companions in. Venorik knelt down perched on the rooftop, watching his targets disappear into the castle before deciding to go in after them. Looking over the surrounding area for a possible entry point, he noticed an unmanned wall to his right, smirking to himself, “Excellent.” Venorik made his way over to his new target and gazed at the large wall which now lay before him. Taller then he first expected it to be, and understands now why few guards patrol this part of the palace wall. Smirking to himself once more as he mentally thought that its there fault for can still easily climb this large stone wall. Looking down below him making sure there’s no passing people as he went to the other side of the roof, planting his feet firmly as he pushed off quickly. Picking up as much speed before reaching the lip of the side of the building and pushing off, thrusting himself into the air, high above the empty street. Seconds pass as he flew through air and then slammed into the stone wall, slipping down some before grabbing something stable. Huffing and puffing for air as he clung to the wall halfway to the top as he tried to fill his lungs back with air that had be pushed out of abruptly as he slammed into the wall. Venorik looked down to the street as he caught his breath, watching as passer by’s went by not noticing a man hanging to the palace wall, before returning his gaze upwards as he began to scale the wall with cat-like precision. Several minutes had passed as his first hand gripped the top ledge of the palace wall as a guard passed by, stopping suddenly from hearing something unusual. Venorik hung there with one hand, the weight beginning to make his arm quake, with his other hand grabbing a dagger from his leg, he waited for the guard to approach the edge. The guard slowly approached the wall, his eyes quirking as he saw fingers latching onto the walls edge, gripping his sword tighter he approached and looked over the side, his eyes widening as to what he saw, but before being able to announce an alarm, he felt a sharp pain in the left side of his neck. Venorik had stabbed the guard with his dagger into his neck, rendering him speechless and dying as he pulled himself up and over the ledge and onto the wall. Turning to the dying guard and tossing him over the wall into the vacant street below, to give him more time inside the palace before the alarms of an intrusion occurred. Venorik looked around trying to find an entry point of any kind, noticing a trap door not twenty ahead of him. Making his way over to the trap door as dusk began to fall over the town, crouching at the trap door in the shadows, as he opened it slowly to draw no attention to himself. Dropping into the hole and landing perfectly and silently, his white eyes piercing the darkness as he wondered the dark passageway. Venorik continued walking in the only direction that was available to him when suddenly he heard several voices through a wall. Stopping and turning towards the wall where the voices emanated from, noticing the wall had several large cracks from what he could only make what looked to be was a crest of some sort. Venorik continued down the passageway a little further, as he found a perfect vantage point into the room. A small hole giving him perfect vision of the entire dining hall. Standing silently behind the dining hall’s wall spying on the occupants, as he overheard all their plans of what’s to come. Lost in his own thoughts, he began to think, “I must get word to the Master” as his train of thought brought suddenly when he heard several noises and footsteps coming ever closer from down the passageway from he had originally came. “Blast, the guards have already come to investigate the missing patrolman, and the open trap door. Damn. I don‘t have time to listen to the rest of their conversation.” Venorik made his way deeper into the passageway, in hopes of finding any kind of exit into the palace. Several long minutes passed as he hurriedly rushed through the passageway, only to come to a dead end. “Damn it!” as he regretted speaking those words as soon as he said them The guards shouted, “Who’s Down there? We Know your there, Come out now!” as they continued marching with their clinking armour getting ever closer to Venorik. Venorik sighed thinking this could be the end when he noticed something out of place on the wall, “No…it Can’t” As he reached for it and a portion of the wall to his right slid open. Smiling to himself for his close escape he slid the small crevice opening as the stone wall slide back into place with a small low thud. “That was to close, now time to get word to the Master of their plans.” Venorik stealthily hid in the shadows making his way door to door, stopping and hiding in the shadows or in plain sight when guards, servants, or royalty came close to his presence until they passed before continuing on. Finally finding his destination at the bottom of the stairs of the spire which led to the pigeon coop high above them. Venorik hastily climbed the stairs to the peak of the tower, stopping at the top making sure no was there before making his entrance into the pigeon coop. Taking a piece of scrap paper and a quill Venorik began to write his coded message to the Master.
PB XFB GIUBXJ
XFB WXJ VPN OAGXF PB OXWU PB CACZ XFB XVZO OIACXY WA GFXAB ZIUB VPN XIHT JFXB. A ZPPB XIGQ YP JFXB UI VPN OIF OXKVXUBXG YA NFXB OIACXY VPN, XPWW XVGHAHU, PU PW UVIGOT WIQ WVXUBAPK JFXB UI PB NFD NFXB OGAXB PB CACZ XFB XVZO. XFXGB UA I DXW BXHXCPMJXWO XFXGB XGI PDB TPVWN UOVCBI BFIB XIJQ PB XFB OAI YP XFB XVZO XFACD XFB UXGQXWIGAXJ XXGD TBBXJMBAWI PB CACZ JAF. OWI XFXUB PDB YICF OBIGHXU WFACOGXQ XXGD FWPVTX PB OXWY JFXB YYP OWI BXYXIO JFXB. A XIHF OPCCPDXY XFXUB XFGXB PB XFB XICIQM, TIAWAWT XWBGIWQX UI CXCD PB XFB XICIQM. OWI BFID A CXCB VPN BXRW UA NFD A XIHF BXWU UFAB XXUUITJ PB VPN.
WIUHAG UA TIVUAWQ BVWUBIWQ XGPVLCB GPY XFB XVZO, WFXD XFB XVZO UIF OPCB JAF NPWUBIWBCQ PB MBPU. XF PCUI UIF UQQXUI PB GXIQXZXXMXM UXMPGBG, XFXGD XFB XVZO OWI UXOGPWWAB XGI XFB NWCP UWXP OCCPDXI PB XXU. OWI GCIWBVU UIF BVP BATFG OPCB JFXB BFIB YA NFXB BPWO GVGGXWOXU BPGY OXHXWICG PB XFB UPGUFBIGIWH NFXB CACD WXTAL I GID WA XFGXB UINO XAJB.
UFAB UA CCI XFB WWYPGJIBAPA A XIHF OIBFXGXT GPY VPN PU GIY. A WCIM WP TXIHAWC XFB XICIQM GYBXI TXWOAWU UFAB XXUUITJ XXYPGL NFXB GAUQPHXO NJ XGXUXWQM. VPN DWPZ XFXGD A CACD XL YA VPN OXXW NWI GVGBFXY XUV YP XJ.
ZXWPGAH IGAUI
Venorik finished his letter and quickly tied it to one of the pigeon’s legs. Carrying the bird firmly over to the window as he tossed it out the window watching it take flight and flew into the night. As Venorik turned he saw a woman standing at the top of the stares, her golden brown eyes locking onto his white eyes as fear became her, frightened stiff. Seconds passed as Venorik took a step towards as she began to scream. “Crap…” Venorik said as he began to hear the clinking of the peacekeeper’s armour rushing up the stairs to the woman’s scream. Venorik looked around trying to find a solution to his problem quickly. The metal clinking getting louder as the guards approach the top of the stairs as Venorik has now almost out of time. Venorik rushed over to the window, climbing out on its ledge as the guards arrived and began to surround him at the window. “Come out of there at once! You are here by under arrest for trespassing on the royal grounds.” Venorik kept his gaze out the window so they could only see his back, keeping his identity secret, for now at least. He heard one of the guard’s step towards him to bring him in, but Venorik lept off the window’s edge into the night sky, plummeting down towards the ground. The Guards rushed the window all trying to see where the man went. “Let’s go, hurry men we have to make sure he’s dead, if not we’re taking him to prison, now lets go!” as all the guards marched quickly off leaving the frightened woman at the top of the stairs to regain her senses. Venorik was now plummeting down to the ground at a tremendous speed, everything around began to blur as the ground became clearer as it rapidly got closer by each passing second. Venorik grinned as he then spun himself slightly, landing on the solid ground with a thunderous thud, sending a cloud of dust outwards. The Guards had arrived moments after the man had crashed to the ground, where the dust was still to thick to see anything. Marching through the dust to the centre to attempt to find the mangled body. Reaching the centre they all gasped, finding themselves staring at a crater in the ground….with no body.. They looked at each other giving them each other odd looks as to how the hell…. As the dust settled completely many had gathered around wondering what was happening, witnessing guards circled around a crater examining something. Venorik smirked to himself high a top a rooftop a short distance away from the crowd, watching as the guards starred at each other in bewilderment. Turning on his heels, Venorik took off into the night over the rooftops back to his hideout to await further orders from the Master.
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Post by xaen on May 14, 2011 0:52:19 GMT 1
“So what should we do?” Cyrteris muttered in a somber tone, though the words were spoken incredibly softly they still managed to silence the room completely. The Duke folded his hands together and leaned heavily on the table as he stared hard into the faces of his three council members, momentarily ignoring the presence of his two personnel guests. “It’s unbelievable that he allowed us to get so friendly with him, before he just drops that brick on our unwitting heads,” The Duke moaned as he stared forlornly into the crystalline facets of his wine glass, the council members all wearing worried expressions as a fog of terror descended on everyone present in the room.
Galsious Harvin coughed hard to clear his throat and to gain the attention of the room. “That Vorhstaran has supplied us with demands and not negotiation. Well I think the choice is obvious,” The fat merchant stated flatly as he fiddled with his exuberant necklaces that were slung around his thick neck, a large frown spreading across his plump features. The massive fellow had initial thought that a friendly relation could have been established with the Vorshtaran people through Vlan’Tur the diplomat, Galsious had really warmed up to the stoic warrior over dinner; though it was no public secret that the bulbous man was beyond friendly.
“I agree full heartedly with Lord Harven,” General Tedronnis growled through his grisly grey and brown moustache as he rose from his seat to pace deep in thought behind Cyrteris’ chair. After a few short minutes, Tedronnis took his seat once again and leaned close towards the despairing Duke Mraen who rested his head on the table before him. “We should launch a pre-emptive strike against the Vorshtarans before they invade our land,” The General said in his gruff voice as Cyrteris raised his head to stare melancholy into Tedronnis’ old wise eyes. “We outnumber the Vorshtarans three to one and if we strike before releasing Vlan’Tur to warn them of our march we could defeat their army before a war even begins,” The graying General continued as the Duke shot him a look of utter disappointment that the situation between the plainsmen and Revenald had deteriorated so quickly.
“I think a peaceful solution can still be reached my hasty Luthien,” Saria Moonflower intoned once the General finished with a hopeful smile in her bright blue eyes. The others all stared at her waiting for her to explain her reasoning for the situation was already quite bleak. “Vlan’Tur clearly regrets delivering such dire news to us after spending the past hour in our friendly company. Rasvin excluded,” The Lady Moonflower said expressing her deep desire to defuse the idea of such a violent course of action, “We could offer an ultimatum that outlines the demilitarization of their soldiers in exchange for…for..for..”
“For what?” Tedronnis interjected sharply waving a dismissive hand at the idea before continuing, “The Vorshtarans are set in their ways, and clearly they have no intention of backing down.” As he spoke, Tedronnis pointed in the direction where the dignitary quarters roughly were located; the same place where Vlan’Tur and his demands had wondered off to without further words. “So we should put an end to these threats immediately, before this shaman Xaxistics follows through with his threat,” The General warned the young Duke, who now stared emotionlessly off into space trying hard not to reveal his inner fear to his countrymen.
Knowing that he could not remain silent forever, Cyrteris sucked in deeply and released his breath in a long deep sigh. “Normally I would dispatch a courier to request the King’s council, but with his absence Lord Vyse has currently taken up stewardship,” Cyrteris elucidated for those gathered in the room pausing briefly to stand and face the mounted picture that depicted himself and his twin; who he hadn’t seen in three years. “The Lord Vyse is already dealing with a war of his own, and I do not wish to disrupt his own plans,” The Duke told them as he stared at the realistic likeness of him and his brother Marvic Mraen, with a grunt Cyrteris Mraen cracked his knuckles as he turned back around to face his council and the Rue twins. “So we must decide what we are to do without the consent of the crown, ladies and gentlemen whatever our coarse I shall take the repercussions,” The young Duke solemnly declared to his council, standing stoically in the silence as the weight of his words settled on their shoulders. Then the Duke clapped his hands together loudly and strolled along the room to stand behind the seated Rue twins to say rather cheerily, “So what shall we do my newest Reven Ravens?” Cyrteris hoped that the declaration of his gift to his saviors would lighten the tension in the room, it was something he had intended to announce when his business with Vlan’Tur was finished; now seemed as good as any to break the news to his guests and council.
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Post by Culmir on May 15, 2011 15:05:50 GMT 1
Cam nodded his hello back to the large plains man as he introduced himself to him, he was shocked to once again hear the almost nasal tones of Rasvin interrupting him as he was about to ask where exactly the large tanned man came from. The pure venom lacing the mans voice as he asked how such a man could be allowed a place at the table of the duke of Fort Revenald, Cam glowered at the hawk like man across the table, he and his sister shouldn’t be allowed at the table either, being as they were mere street scum but the man couldn’t know that. Rasvin seemed to have noticed Cam’s expression as he continued relentlessly, even getting up from his seat and strutting through the dining room to end behind Cam and Clover who tensed and wearily eyed the man, turning in their chairs to make sure he wouldn’t try something as foolish as attack them. What he did was worse, as Rasvin stared at Clover and Cam before addressing the duke and plainly revealing that he knew perfectly well where Cam and Clover were from, naming them lousy thieves. Clover snarled and tried to leap off her chair, her hand already reaching for her hidden kodachi as Cam wrested her back and practically forced her to sit back down before anyone could notice her violent outburst. Both the Rue kids were seething, barely maintaining a calm facade as they stared at Rasvin, they felt the eyes of everyone in the room on them momentarily as the information seemed to settle down and sink in.
Clover wasn’t surprised when she heard Saria’s voice, albeit barely above all the commotion as even the servants in waiting were surprised at the revelation and quietly began to talk to one another. Neither Cam nor Clover could hear the whispered reply Rasvin gave as he continued to circle his way around the table, Clover did shudder slightly when as he passed Saria, she could almost see his undying lust dripping out of the hawk like mans pores , she pitied the woman for having such a suitor. Cam and Clover both followed Rasvins every move intently with their cold grey eyes as he stopped beside the duke and taunted him, the twins both awaited his answer as well, wondering if they had overstayed their welcome in the ducal palace after their crudely exposed background. The dukes reply was brutally honest though and seemed to shock the company currently present in the room, they were pleased when they saw Rasvin sag, Clover allowed a hit of a smirk to appear on her heart shaped face as she stared coldly at the man as he backed off. When given the choice to either apologize or leave Rasvin chose the thing that Cam thought would make him appear the stronger one, standing by his viewpoints, but in fact it made him seem weak, not able to face his mistakes and repent for them as was proper. There was a collective sigh of release from the servants, they all expected some form of verbal violence to ensue from the bird like Rasvin before her left but he went quietly and the duke apologized once again on this evening and continued the conversation like nothing of the sort had happened. When he inquired Vlan’Turs purpose however Cam noticed the man stiffened, obviously not liking having been called to the spot like that, clearly he was hoping for a more private situation when revealing his intentions. Clover frowned slightly, having noticed the same tensing in the large man, whatever his cause was it weighed heavily on his shoulders and he didn’t want to speak it out loud in the presence of so many, but no one would deny the duke of Fort Revenald something in his own house, with great reluctance the man spoke
“I am here for your complete and utter surrender of Fort Revenald and all of the northern Erumaran lands to my people in three days time, or suffer the sting of our blades in combat,” Vlan’Tur bellowed before rising from his seat and swiftly exiting the room. Blinking slowly Clover watched the large man leave after his proclamation, she exchanged a worried glance with Cam who looked just as dumbstruck as she did, she angled herself towards her brother as the council once more erupted in loud conversation, every member of the council still present speaking to the duke and giving him different advice, even some of the servants dared to speak to their master, begging him not to give up their town. “Why do I get the feeling that there’s more behind this than asking for a simple surrender?” Cam asked Clover quietly, Clover shrugged casually “Probably because there is, Vlan’Tur was careful not to give a reason for these demands, maybe a negotiation is still an option, if he’s willing” she replied as she eyed the duke as he seemed overwhelmed by all the going-ons this evening. When he spoke it was quietly, but his voice was not defeated and the murmured conversation died soon after his words, Cam and Clover didn’t feel the least offended as he addressed his council, they didn’t know anything about diplomatic warfare and they were probably the least suited to make any kinds of recommendation about plans against the Vorshtarans.
When Galsious spoke the twins eyed him curiously, apparently he had gotten the same idea as Clover had earlier and figured negotiations could possibly lead to a friendly truce at some point. Clover nodded vigorously at the large bellied man who seemed to be quite content with his own smart plan of trying to handle this threat in a non violent way until it would be proven beyond point that no other measure could be taken. It was the general who then suggested launching a pre-emptive attack on the Vorshtarans, this idea creased Cams forehead while his sister raised an elegant eyebrow of dislike at the general. It seemed a bit harsh to strike first and ask the questions later, the dislike for the generals rash words only grew as he almost cheerfully proclaimed they could hold Vlan’Tur captive for the time being and outnumber the Vorshtarans without them ever knowing if their message had been delivered at all.
Cam stared in a bit of awe when Saria spoke, clearly revealing a large amount of intellect hiding behind her beautiful appearance as she spoke quite plainly but down to the point that Galsious had been trying to make as well, though a bit better formulated. Clover snarled beneath her breath as once again the general began to puncture holes into the peaceful solution, the man seemed to be adamant on beginning a war already and wouldn’t even pause to consider a peaceful approach at first, didn’t the man understand that if the negotiations failed, war would still ensue but it would be a strategically better option to first try and make amends peacefully. Frustrated Clover crossed her arms over her chest, glaring at the general through spikes of her red hair that were drooping down into her face from shaking her head so vigorously at his violent ideas, normally she wouldn’t hesitate to jump into action but this man was risking a whole towns livelihood on his desire for a war that could be solved diplomatically.
Both the twins grumbled their responses to each other, knowing they shouldn’t meddle in the affairs of this war but they both had their own views on how things ought to be dealt with, clearly siding with each others beliefs as well as Saria’s and Galsious’s. When the duke finally spoke everyone listened attentively, his words were solemn and carefully chosen as he said he’d take all the repercussions no matter what would happen in this nightmare of a situation with the Vorshtarans. Silence greeted his well spoken words before the duke broke it by clapping in his hands and revealing yet another piece of shocking information to all those present as he stood behind Cam and Clover, plainly telling them they’d be accepted into his mysterious Reven Ravens.
Clover couldn’t help but smile widely, her grey eyes sparkling as she stared at the duke and then at her brother who appeared to be frozen in shock, she nudged him with her knee “Hear that little brother” she taunted him, though she was only a couple of minutes older “And you said we couldn’t do it” she joked before standing from her chair, bowing gracefully to the duke “We thank you for accepting us into your service your grace” she spoke calmly, enunciating all the words carefully.
Cam blinked...and blinked once more upon hearing that both he and his sister had been accepted into the Reven Ravens, something he thought would be impossible, even now when they had been in the presence of the duke, he hadn’t thought that they’d been able to get into the mysterious service. The duke had never even showed a single sign that he had been planning this, he merely seemed to be grateful to be rescued and wanted to thank him and his sister, blinking once more Cam barely heard his sisters words directed at him. It wasn’t until she stood from the table and thanked the duke that he himself shook his head out of his dumbstruck reverie and fell to his knee in front of the duke “You have our everlasting loyalty and service your grace” he added to his sisters proclamation.
Not far from the ducal palace a small rundown storehouse stood on the separating lines between the wealthy and the middle part of Fort Revenald, the storehouse had seen better days after the last fire that had been set to it. Jealous merchants all over town were envious of the storehouse’s location, it was a coveted area to possess and many offers had been made to purchase the run down store from its mysterious owner, yet every offer had been turned down, even the lavishly overpriced offers that would of allowed for a grander and better structure to be built had been shot down upon being received. It was at the top of the hay barn that a large writing desk stood, the small window that allowed fresh air to filter into the barn stood ajar and a cloaked man sat behind the desk lit by the two candles that stood at either ends of the desk. He appeared to be waiting for something as he remained shrouded in darkness, his gloved hands laced together as he kept the cowl of his cloak carefully pulled over his face, hiding his features from anyone who dared to risk a glance at him. He waited there silently until at last a small pigeon landed on the windowsill and hopped clumsily through the window, burdened with a small piece of parchment tied to his paw. His gloved hand reached out calmly to the bird as it flew from the windowsill to the desk eagerly, waiting for its master to retrieve the message that had been entrusted to the trained bird with care. Releasing the bird the cloaked man watched as it flew out the window once more, returning to its coop where it would be well tended by one of his servants.
Pulling the candle closer the man carefully unrolled the parchment and deciphered the coded message quickly “to the master” it started. “The men you hired to send to kill the Duke failed in their task you gave them. I took care of them as you had requested if they failed you, none survive, so no guards can question them as to why they tried to kill the duke. There is a new development there are two young adults that came to the aid of the duke while the mercenaries were attempting to kill him. And these two half starved children were enough to fend them off and defeat them. I have followed these three to the palace, gaining entrance as well to the palace. And what I tell you next is why I have sent this message to you.
Rasvin is causing constant trouble for the Duke, when the Duke has told him constantly to stop. He also has access to Peacekeeper reports, where the Duke and Tedronnis are the only ones allowed to see. And Vlan’Tur has out right told them that if they don’t surrender Fort Revenald to the Vorshtaran’s they will begin a war in three days time. This is all the information I have gathered for you so far. I plan on leaving the palace after sending this message before they discover my presence. You know where I will be if you need any further use of me. Venorik Arisa”
The cloaked man smiled, though his features were hidden in the cloak safely so no one could share his elation at the message he had received from his hired help. It would seem the Shadowcloaks might actually have a few cards to play for their own while this little war with the Vorshtarans erupted or not. Opening a drawer of the desk smoothly the man withdrew two pieces of parchment, a quill and a small jar of burgundy ink, he repeated the message twice smoothly onto the parchment, folding them carefully before dipping his hands once more into the drawer, producing a stick of sealing wax. Holding the candle to the wax the man watched it drip onto the folds of his parchment slips before pressing his ring firmly into the wax while it was still liquid. When he withdrew the ring after being assured the wax was dried enough not to smudge the mark he gazed at it contently, it bore the mark of the hidden shadowcloaks, though easily confused with another mark entirely as they were so similar. Rising from his chair the man went down a flight of stairs, wordlessly handing the pieces of parchment to his personal assistant who already knew who to take them to. He returned once more to his desk, producing a different set of paper, unadorned and made in large quantities everywhere in the city so it couldn’t be traced to this particular storehouse. He wrote a precise message to his hired eyes and ears. “Venorik” it started.
“Please continue to observe the actions of the duke in regard to the Vorshtaran’s act of war, try to find out his precise line of action against them. Also keep an eye on Rasvin he might be of use to us at some point.
The same price we agreed upon earlier should suffice I think, to be delivered to you by messenger as always.
Regards,
Your Master.” He coded the message quickly before once more descending the stairs, going to the backdoor of the storehouse and let out a piercing whistle, a brown falcon flew down from the sky above and landed on the mans outstretched arm, he tied the message to his pets leg before tossing it back into the air. He would return to the storehouse at a later moment to see how things were progressing.
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Post by xaen on May 15, 2011 20:09:51 GMT 1
Cyrteris’ smile was wide and genuine as the Rue twins both eagerly declared their loyalty to him. He was overwhelmed with feelings of sincere gratitude that the pair had wholeheartedly accepted his gift, a blessing that he hadn’t given in over two years. The Duke had thought long and hard about this decision since early that day when they had come to his rescue, for the twins both showed amazing fighting skills, etiquette, leadership qualities and moderate stealth abilities; all perfect traits for a Reven Raven, and most importantly the Duke wouldn’t have to question their loyalty because they were from a poor way of life and would be forever grateful. Not that Cyrteris ever thought the Rue twins would be candidates for betrayal. ‘Now to see what the council thinks of my choice’, Cyrteris Mraen mused as he turned from the Rue twins to examine the expressions of his remaining councilmen. Saria Moonflower and Galsious Harvin both wore wide congratulating smiles, and their eyes held nothing but flickers of pleased surprise; both clearly agreeing with his choice in new recruits. General Luthien Tedronnis though had a deep frown on his grizzled face with mild contempt for the pair, but from his silence Cyrteris knew that the man grudgingly accepted the choice as well. “Even with this wondrous news ladies and gentlemen a hard choice still hangs before us,” Cyrteris spoke his tone incredibly grim as he swept his noble gaze across the room politely making eye contact with each person in the room before finishing with a grand flourish, “And I have decided that we shall by popular vote attempt a diplomatic solution!” A joyful cheer erupted from the servants standing at the fringes of the room and from the council members at the table, except for Tedronnis who grumbled angrily under his breath. With that Cyrteris moved for the door that leads to a luxurious sitting room which he disappeared down, but not before he signaled for his new Ravens and council to follow. The room was lavishly decorated with foreign tapestries and paintings on the walls, a large marble fireplace warmed the gigantic chamber, and all its babbles and trinkets that decorated a dozen shelves along with numerous tomes. A thick hand woven red carpet that was emblazoned with a massive Revenald insignia at its center covered the floor, around the insignia three sofas were positioned in a U shape in front of the hearth. Once everyone found a seat and settled, the Duke stood in front of the fireplace so that he was in plain sight of everyone present before speaking. “So ladies and gentlemen, we must now decide how we proceed. Any suggestions?” Cyrteris inquired of his newest recruits and long time council members, Rasvin excluded of course.
Back in The Crossland Company compound that lay hardly more than two blocks away from the Ducal Palace, Rasvin Tresm thundered down the corridors of his private estate that was nestled within the thin walls of his merchant compound. The fiery nobleman retreating to his private chambers to nurture his wounded pride through expensive wines that were by far cheaper than the Duke’s personnel stock. For two hours the vile merchant stared hatefully at the painting of the Duke and himself that was mounted over the chambers stone hearth, somehow managing to force himself to slowly sip at his third glass of wine when all he wanted was to drown his rage. Another of half hour of spiteful thoughts rolled quickly by, not once did the temperamental merchant lord think that he was at fault for his actions in the Ducal Palace. At that moment a gentle dutiful knock resounded from the thick oak double doors of his chambers, to which the arrogant merchant lord grunted his command for the servant to enter. Rasvin turned his head sharply to glare angrily at his impudent servant, but was shocked to see Duke Cyrteris Mraen standing next to the servant wearing an almost evil smile. Lord Tresm gulped at for air like a beached whale at the surprising visit from the man he had brutally disrespected, wild fear flooded the merchant lord’s chest as the possible implications of this visit meant. Staring wide eyed at his Duke for a few silent minutes, Rasvin’s panicked brain eventually informed him that this was not actually Cyrteris Mraen! Rather it was a man that carried incredible likeness of the Duke himself, but with shorter well groomed hair and wore red and gold over the Duke’s usually black and blue styles, plus a rather foppish wide brimmed black hat. “W-w-who are you?” Rasvin stuttered still quite fearful of the possibility of this man being Cyrteris Mraen.
Marvic chuckled fiendishly as the vulture-like merchant lord continued to be afraid of him, the fool probably thinking that he was his damned brother. “My Lord Tresm, I am here to offer you a proposition if you are interested?” Marvic cheerily enunciated as he waved for the servant to leave, the man bowed politely before closing the doors firmly behind him. The nobleman quietly watched with much amusement as Rasvin tried to steel his nerves before speaking, but failing miserably ending up whining like a frightened child.
“W-w-what k-kind of pro-prop-proposition, S-s-sir?” The pathetic merchant lord Rasvin whined at an embarrassingly loud key that would shame most women. Rasvin then coughed and rose from his seat to stand erect trying feebly to regain some form of his dignity, drawing strength from the mystery man’s avoidance of revealing his name to the Lord Tresm.
“A proposition that will leave you incredibly powerful and wealthy once it comes to fruition in two days time,” Marvic answered in an elusive tone as he removed his wide brimmed hat to run a noble hand through his short red hair before replacing it. “As for my name, you only need know me as Jarvis Felvon,” Marvic told the hawkish merchant lord who stared quizzically at him, the name perplexing his small mind as he stared at the mysterious owner of the Felvon Merchant Company.
“I have never seen you before in the city, Master Jarvis. How long have you been in Revenald?” Rasvin inquired his long time hidden rival in illegal trading, as he continued to eye the man suspiciously absorbing the man’s interesting words.
“Only two days now,” Marvic who was Jarvis quickly replied without hesitation, smiling innocently at one of his chief rivals when it came to illegal goods trading. “Myself and several other merchant companies plan to overthrow that whelp Cyrteris Mraen in two days time. Those that help me will be rewarded with stations of power in our new kingdom,” Marvic spilled wishing this meeting to end quickly for he immensely disliked this feeble excuse for a man. As soon as the words left his mouth, Rasvin was eagerly nodding his head in agreement and asking as to what he should do when the time came. Marvic was surprised by the man’s unabashed eagerness to overthrow his twin, since it had taken Marvic a few hours to convince the other seven merchants each. “All you have to do is join your mercenaries with mine when I march in two days time and nothing more,” The wild hat wearing nobleman explained to Rasvin before nodding his farewell, hardly seeing the need to make sure of the man’s loyalties; for clearly the man’s heart was already swayed long before his arrival in Lord Tresm’s home. So off he went into the night, returning to his own abode within the protective wall of the Felvon Merchant Compound. There he will wait for the return of his mysterious benefactor Kenras Savrantas, the man was off on his own errands with his secretive organization; whose name Marvic Mraen still had yet to learn.
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Post by Culmir on May 16, 2011 19:55:00 GMT 1
Cam and Clover both rose from their stances, Cams face still portraying his disbelief at the whole situation while Clovers was pleasantly flushed from the surprise of them actually being accepted into the Reven Ravens, she knew their life would be arduous from this point but it was well worth being off the streets and being fed a decent meal every night. Of course they would need training, one didn't just simply become a Reven Raven with the skills they possessed now, while they were sufficient to be allowed a place onto the mysterious service she knew their skills were no where near the ones of those who has already spend several years in servitude to the duke. She wondered idly when or if they might start their training at all, with the impending war it seemed least likely that they would be wasting time honing their skills when they could be best put to use at once, they still looked like they belonged on the streets and could probably easily infiltrate and snoop inconspicuously all over town, rather than when they were properly cleaned and gained a few more pounds both in fat as in muscle. Clover wondered silently whether she ought to point that out, should the occasion call for such drastic measures as the duke had yet to decide on which course of action he would go in regards to the Vorshtarans. However, she figured one didn't rush into a war without some form of information on what they would be up against and this would in fact prove a nice opportunity to find out, tilting her head Clover pondered this quietly.
While Clover had a internal conversation with herself Cam found himself as if pleasantly awaking from a dream and finding out it was real, running his hand through his tousled bronze locks he smiled awkwardly at Galsious and Saria who both wore wide smiles as they seemed wholeheartedly to agree with the dukes decision to make him and his twin part of the Reven Ravens. Cams grey eyes found the general who seemed to be glowering but his eyes twinkled in some form of amusement, clearly he wasn't entirely too pleased but he would grow to accept and respect his lords wishes. When Cams gaze found the duke he saw him inhale, obviously preparing to say something so Cam placed his hands behind his back and waited for his master to begin, it wasn't all too surprising when the duke started in a solemn tone, the joyful news was just a small ways of alleviating the dampening matter that hung over their heads right now, a possible war. Up until the point that the duke proclaimed that by popular vote he would try a peaceful approach first Cam hadn't been aware that his sister let out a pent up breath, he turned to her, an eyebrow raised questioningly to which she replied with a small one shouldered shrug and her eyes darted to the duke meaning she'd explain later.
They both followed the duke from the dining room into an adjacent sitting room as he had motioned them to follow, Cam and Clover made sure they were the last to exit the room, allowing Saria, Luthien and Galsious entrance before them. Cam closed the double doors swiftly once he was sure no one was lurking outside the hallway, he wasn't sure but he had a strange sensation of being watched all throughout the dinner and it made him skittish, his twin, being linked by an inexplicable bond had picked up on this and assisted him quietly. They turned together and faced the room, it was large and pleasantly warm as the cold of the night set outside of the ducal palace, the decorations gave it a more homey feel and Clover could easily picture this as a sort of place you'd come to after a long day, just to sit and relax. The twins made their way over to the sofa's on which Saria, the general and Galsious had already taken place, Clover sank onto the sofa besides Saria who was opposite of Galsious and Luthien, who seemed quite displeased as the sofa groaned under the mans weight, Cam wisely chose a previously empty sofa to sink down onto. All eyes were on the duke as he stood in the middle of the small area cordoned off by the sofas, he turned and faced them now “So ladies and gentlemen, we must now decide how we proceed. Any suggestions?” the duke asked.
Clover glanced around nervously before she cleared her throat "If I may be so bold as to make a suggestion" she started, not sure if the duke actually wanted her or her brothers opinion on the matter "I personally think we need to gather some intelligence, both inside Fort Revenald and out, where is the army situated?" she asked but continued without pause "They have to be close by as it would be near impossible to march from the plains to here in 3 days and still be fit to launch an attack" she reasoned, glancing at the general opposite of her to see if he had gathered as much as well. On a roll Clover continued "I would send an emissary to the Vorshtarans camp, talk to this shaman if he's there, ask for his reasoning, while the emissary talks his or her escort can take a peek at the status of the soldiers, are they well fed or exhausted from a long trek, what about food, can we cripple their food supply somehow to stop them from launching it that way, what about illnesses, is there some kind of flu going around that might weaken them, basically spy on them from the inside, while we still can." Clover finished, her cheeks flushed a bright red at having spoken so much.
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Post by xaen on May 17, 2011 0:30:22 GMT 1
Cyrteris nearly cried out in unbridled joy when Clover was the first to speak, even though her voice carried some hints of worry that her opinion was not called upon. The spiky-haired woman had bravely offered her opinion despite possible rebukes from the Duke and his council, only further confirming the Duke’s choice in the pair. Making the Duke wish all the more that there had been enough time to properly train the twins, but the world was against them and Cyrteris held confidence in their current abilities. “I agree with your reasoning Clover, I have pondered the possibility that the Vorshtarans are encamped nearby,” Duke Mraen informed his council as he casually began to pace in front of the hearth. “Therefore it stands to reason that this Xaxistics fellow must have led his army through a pass least watched over,” Cyrteris deducted by his third pass before the blazing hot fireplace.
“They must have come through one of the passes farther south of the Adbyrron pass, and since we have yet seen them. They must have followed the mountains to the eastern wood on the banks of the Ildera,” General Luthien Tedronnis reasoned from years of military logistics application in countless battles with Erumara’s closest neighbouring Kingdom of Rash Vok. The General blanched as the gravity of his own words settled on his broad shoulders, secretly glad that the Duke had ignored his foolish pleas for a pre-emptive strike in the Vorshtran Plains. “I think the young lady’s plan has merit and is probably the best choice of action,” General Tedronnis conceded reluctantly since he still disapproved of the Duke’s choice in new recruits for the elite Reven Ravens.
“Agreed,” Saria, Galsious and Cyrteris all said in perfect harmony causing everyone to chuckle softly at the frivolity of the action. The Duke smiling the widest of all as he clapped his regal hands together for possibly the fourth time that night saying in confident tones, “So it’s agreed we shall gather information within and without the city confines, and send an envoy to meet with the encamped Vorshtaran forces.” Cyrteris then quickly strode across the carpert to a small walnut wood desk to scribble a rough paragraph on a piece of vellum paper, and then drawing another page from one of the drawers. Rewetting his writing quill with fresh ink the Duke continued his scrawling on this new sheet, the room went dead quiet except for the constant scratch of his raven feather quill on the rough page. With a satisfied grunt, he replaced the quill to its resting place and scooped up his work as he marched back in front of his gathering. “Send Ambassador Timothy Westriver and two Reven Ravens of your choice to deal with and scout the Vorshtaran camp,” Duke Mraen commanded the General as he had the man the two separate sheets before finishing, “And send Raven Lord Ivan Blazewind to meet our new recruits in the outer courtyard tomorrow morn.” General Luthien nodded his understanding as he rose from his seat along with the other two councilmen, leaving the Rue twins seated on the sofas alone. The Duke politely bid his council good evening and closing the doors behind them, then prancing over to the liquor cabinet to snatch for an expensive bottle of Cayld brandy and three crystal glasses. He quickly poured the amber liquid into the sparkling glasses hardly diminishing their crystalline glow with the darker liquid, which he carried over to his guests and forcefully handed to Clover and Cam. “So tell about yourselves,” Cyrteris demanded in a friendly tone that carried his sincere desire to get to the know the pair, as he seated himself next to Clover, sipping elegantly at his brandy as he waited for a response.
A dozen miles away from Fort Revenald’s south-eastern gates in the large Ilderan forest, Kenras Savrantas wandered through the Vorshtaran camp within the thin forest. The stronger and taller Vorshtarans all staring hatefully at him, but held in check by the presence of their Shaman Xaxistics standing shoulder to shoulder with the darkly garbed Shadowpriest as he walked the length of the massive campground. Even with his mighty enchanted black mace tied to his waist, Kenras still felt uneasy around the peaceful turned violent desert people. Xaxistics must have sensed the half-elf’s unease for the giant of a man, either released a low throaty laugh or simple growled at the show of weakness; though be it a silent one since, Kenras had long ago learned to control his body language and emotions. “Will you be ready to attack in two days regardless of the Duke’s answer?” The Highpriest of Kassislek’s devote demanded forcefully of his gigantic counterpart as he placed a blue-tinted hand on his mace hilt, knowing that aggression will be needed to maintain his shaky respect with the Shaman.
“Of course little elfling. We the mighty Vorshtarans are ready to crush the feeble skulls of the pathetic Erumarans,” Xaxistics the Great roared aloud stirring vigorous hoots and howlers for battle from his wild eyed kinsmen.
Kenras took silent note of the strange bloodshot eyes of his Vorshtaran allies, and the crystal clear blue gaze of his shamanistic counterpart as he quietly let the momentum of the cheers to roll to a complete stop. “I would not doubt such a claim. O Powerful Xaxistics!” The Shadowpriest exclaimed iniatating another round of mindless cries for bloodshed in two days time. “But my friend Xaxistics we must discuss the possible arrival of an envoy,” Kenras’ solemn yet firm tone silencing the camp around him and drawing a firm scowl from the Shaman. Hardly needing permission from the brute or his lackeys Kenras continued, “When and if they send an envoy, YOU shall not harm them in anyway before and after. I care not what lie you tell them as long as you march on the city in two days.”
“And so it shall be done Shadowpriest,” Xaxistics growled in reply to the half-elf’s strong words an evil sneer spreading like wildfire across the Shaman’s ugly self-scarred face. Then the Shaman watched in mild shock as Kenras Savrantas muttered a few words and disappeared in a brief flash of blue light, successfully teleporting to oft sought after rundown storehouse on the borderline between the middle and wealthy districts inside Fort Revenald. Xaxistics hated the pale blue skinned man with a fiery passion, and only simple reason kept the temperamental Vorshtaran “Shaman” from ripping the man’s head from his shoulders. The Shaman still believed that Kenras was unaware as to how Xaxistics had convinced the peaceful Vorshtarans to become such a savage warlike people, and in that false knowledge he fuelled his confidence in the belief that he could overthrow the smallish elf-man. The Shaman returned to his canvas tent that night dreaming up visions of bloody world conquest.
Meanwhile Kenras arrived in the rundown storehouse through his teleport spell only mere moments after his counterpart had left the dank and lightless building. There the elf brushed the dust and dirt from his fine long black coat that ended near his ankles just above the floor, and once his minor display of vanity was over he strolled ever so casually from the storehouse onto the empty streets. From years of careful practice the Shadowpriest stealthily scaled a nearby building to gain quick access to the roofs. Once both his feet made contact with the shingles of the roof, the Shadowcloak burst into an all out fleet-footed sprint that didn’t even make a whisper on the roof tops as he flew from building to building with perfect grace in each leap. After a short half-hour run the Shadowpriest reached the city’s thick protective wall which he scaled as swiftly as a spider, and from there simply took the winding stairs up to the top of one of the city’s round defensive towers. The guard that stood watch hardly heard the quiet woooosh of Kenras’ flanged mace as it descended from the shadows to cave the woman’s skull in, which was by followed a brief red flicker of light from the powerful enchantment as it discharged for overkill into the dead woman’s head. As he cleaned the blood of the black iron head of his weapon, Kenras made a gentle cooing noise into the night and retying his weapon to its place at his hip. A short moment later a chubby little pigeon fluttered from seemingly no where to land calmly on his pale blue tinged index finger. Kenras then quickly retrieved a small coiled piece of parchment and tied it tightly to the fat bird’s foot; then after whispering briefly to the bird, Kenras gently tossed the thing into flight and off into the night it flew. The Shadowpriest had written the encrypted message the night before, a message that contained a request for a meeting with one of his closest counterpart (in regard to distance) the Master of the Society of Assassins at the abandoned storehouse tomorrow night. His business complete, Kenras slinked off into the night to rest and prepare for tomorrows preparations. Starting a war is a lot of work after all.
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Post by Culmir on May 17, 2011 14:21:17 GMT 1
It took a large amount of self control on Cams part not to stare openmouthedly at his erratic twin sister when she actually answered the dukes request for suggestions, when he was finished she flicked a small glance at her brother, who clued in that this was what she had been pondering earlier while they were still in the dining room. He agreed with his sisters reasoning though it would of been more becoming on her part if she had suggested it calmly, allowing the duke to fill in most of the details himself rather than pointing them out so blatantly. He sat in silence, listening to the dukes interaction with the general as they both seemed to hear the same sort of wisdom in Clovers words, whereas Cam was more reluctant to agree, something was completely off in this whole matter. It festered in Cams mind as he mentally replayed all the actions that Vlan'Tur had taken over the course of that evening as the duke was by now at his large writing desk, writing out his orders on vellum sheets.
Clover was smug, and wasn't capable of hiding it at this point, she knew her brother wanted her to be more of a girly girl and she figured that's where his glum expression came from as he sat staring at the floor. Her grey eyes drifted over to Saria beside her, the woman was elegant in her red silk dress, every movement she made was pure grace and when she spoke she didn't have to raise her voice a single bit unlike Clover. She envied the woman as she stared at her, her black hair looked so smooth and soft where Clovers own red hair looked more like a dishevelled haystack with hair spiking everywhere rather than falling into that smooth and wavy pattern as Sarias did. Saria smiled at Clover then, noticing she was watching her, with a pang of jealousy Clover noted the subtle dimples in Sarias cheeks as she smiled, Clover nodded her head slightly before turning her eyes away to the same floor her brother was studying so intently.
Cam broke out of his reverie when the duke returned, his head still reeling from the many thoughts that had passed through in rapid succession, if only Cam had been able to scribble it all down, he grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose as his eyes closed, a headache forming slowly. He listened only with half an ear as the duke relayed his orders to everyone in the room and dismissed his council for the evening, Cam opened his eyes to see the duke busy at a liquor cabinet across the room and decided against re-opening the conversation on the war until he could be more organized in his thoughts. When the duke returned and handed them both a glass of a peculiar amber liquid the twins sniffed it cautiously in unison, coming to the realization that it was a type of brandy but were unable to place its origins. Clover took a small sip politely, Cam took a large mouthful, hoping it would still his mind as the liquid burned a path down his throat and settled warmly in his stomach. The duke seated himself besides Clover who smiled politely holding onto her glass with both hands out of fear for dropping and breaking it somehow. When the duke asked them to tell something about themselves Clovers grey eyes darted to her brother who gave a short head tilt to the left saying she should tell the story if she wanted to before taking another large sip of the brandy, comforted by the warmth it provided in his stomach.
Clover angled herself towards the duke and sighed before speaking "Cam and I were born and raised in Carvahal by our parents Rose and Camden Rue, Cam got his name from our father and my mother wanted some type of floral name for me and she settled for Clover." she started, staring at her fingers as she spoke. "We lived with our parents in Carvahal, acting like regular children would, at least I think so, we didn't see many other children playing in the streets, people spoke about us often saying we would go wrong someday because we liked to play outside, climb trees, go boating in the ocean, stuff like that" she smiled ruefully. "When Cam and I were 10 years old we moved to the Morning sage's monastery because the people in Carvahal didn't want us around anymore, our parents remained in Carvahal and said we could return if we would learn to behave ourselves properly." "It didn't take long for the monks at the monastery to realize that we weren't like the other children that had been sent to them to receive a quiet form of education, they hoped to convert us into their beliefs and find peace or whatever" Clover said bitterly as she rolled her eyes at the memories. "They sent us back after a year of their best efforts with a letter explaining to our parents that the monastery wasn't the right place for us and they wouldn't accept us in their midst any longer, our parents kept us in their house for 3 days before they shipped us off again, they had heard about an institute just outside of Carvahal, it looks like a regular barn from the outside but it's like a prison on the inside." Clover snarled, her grey eyes blazing as she looked up at the duke "They used every force necessary to teach me and Cam everything they could, we were taught etiquette, fencing, reading, writing, even some form of arts like dancing and making music but every time we failed even in the slightest we would be punished." She extended her hand to her brother, clasping his hand firmly in hers as she tugged him over, peeling his finger-less gloves off his slender hands and showing the duke the many scars that trailed across the back of his fingers. "Sometimes they'd use a cane, other times they resorted to other methods of punishment" she spoke calmly, letting go of Cam's hand who hastily slipped his gloves back onto his fingers, an embarrassed red high on his cheeks. "We were there for a total period of 8 years of which it took us 3 years to come up with a plan and execute it, we escaped, though I'm not entirely sure how still, it seemed to be going all too smoothly the night we did, since we did we've been slowly trekking through the country, it took us a year to come from Carvahal to Fort Revenald where we have been living on the streets for a year, as far north as we can get without leaving the country or going into hostile territory." she finished.
Cam cleared his throat quietly "At some point in our travels from Carvahal to here, we heard about a mysterious band of soldiers known as the Reven Ravens, because of our 8 year forced tutelage we thought we could try and find out how to gain into the service of them, which is why we were coming to Fort Revenald to begin with." he added, rubbing the back of his hand thoughtfully as he remembered his time in the institute. Clover raised a delicate eyebrow slowly as she stared at the duke, her grey eyes smoldering "So now you know our story" she whispered.
A small brown speck launched from the night onto a small unsuspecting pigeon as it flew across Fort Revenald, strong claws surrounded the delicate form of the pigeon who squawked in terror. The falcon flew with his prey back to his master, after having delivered his own messages with the pigeon firmly held in his talons. His perfect vision allowed the graceful bird to bank smoothly before diving down sharply, coming to land onto his owners outstretched arm smoothly on one foot as the other still held the quivering pigeon. A soft clacking sound ensued from his master as he pried the terrified pigeon out of his pets claws, inspecting it for any injuries before relieving the bird of his message and gently allowing it to flutter off. He watched the bird carefully as it wobbled a bit in flight but otherwise seemed unharmed, once he was assured the creature was fine did he and his falcon enter into his private lodging. Unrolling the small message his eyes scanned the encoded information quickly, so he was summoned to a meeting of sorts at the storehouse tomorrow. Of course the man would attend, he could hardly refuse such a summons, he walked calmly over to his desk, scribbling the information onto a small piece of parchment to inform the others in his selective group before tying it to his falcon who had hopped from his arm onto the perch situated on the writing desk. The bird nipped at his fingers as the man stroked his feathers gently, he nodded slowly at the bird, as if to say 'I'm sorry' before lifting the majestic beast and taking it over to the opened window across the room, there he threw the animal into the air and watched it take off once again.
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Post by xaen on May 17, 2011 21:31:04 GMT 1
Cyrteris politely nodded and gentle nursed his amber brandy through peaceful sips as he listened to the Rue‘s tale. He smiled with mild envy as Clover described their wild and free childhood, even chuckling soft when she described their release from the Morning Sage Monastery. Then Clover‘s tone turned sour and her words sharp with deep rooted hatred, making Cyrteris momentarily choke on his expensive liquor as he listened with even more attentiveness. As Clover continued to explain the horrors of their imprisonment in their “correctional school“ she extended her hand to Cam, who clasped his gloved hand around her bare hand. She then rolled up the fingerless gloves to reveal terrible scars on her brother’s hand that were given to him by their instructors, and after the Duke had seen it long enough Cam tugged the glove back into position. Cyrteris’ heart was plague by powerful feelings of sympathy for the unlucky pair as Clover described the journey to Fort Revenald with some additions made by her twin. Once she finished, Cyrteris cleared his throat feeling terrible that the pair had been so poorly treated and forced to leave their family behind. “Well I am pleased that I could at least fulfill your dreams of joining the Reven Ravens,” The Duke said uncomfortable trying to lighten the gloomy mood that had descended upon the chamber. Sheepishly the Duke then rose from his seat to calmly wander over to the liquor cabinet and retrieve the bottle of amber brandy, except this time he took a single strong draft straight from the crystal decanter. When the liquid completed its burning trip to his gullet the Duke turned back to his guests, now no longer having the desire to interrogate them any further for more painful stories. “I bid you goodnight. Feel free to indulge in whatever drink you desire and I will see you tomorrow morn,” He told them hastily indicating the cabinet as he abandoned his empty glass on a table near the door, before scooting through the oak portal with as much decency as he could muster. The Duke felt absolutely horrible for just leaving like that, but the story had been so shocking to Cyrteris that he could not think of a proper reply or how to enlighten the mood. So he had chosen to retreat for the evening and hope that those unearthed feelings would not be brought into the fold tomorrow morning, Cyrteris had frightening dreams that night of war, death and the utter destruction of Revenald; which is not a very good sign for things to come.
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Post by Culmir on May 18, 2011 15:01:21 GMT 1
Clover and Cam remained silent on the sofas as the duke got up, clearly uncomfortable after hearing their tale, maybe he expected something less harsh and more glamorous, he seemed amused enough at the beginning when Clover explained their playful childhood. Cam watched the duke carefully as he spoke about fulfilling their dream to join the Reven Ravens both Rue kids smiled at that, they were immensely grateful to be allowed into the elusive service of course, it was what they had intended since they found out about them, it beats being a mercenary for hire. Shock flitted across Cams face as he watched the duke drink a large gulp of brandy straight from the decanter, it appeared he could use the small boost of courage the heady drink seemed to provide as he turned, telling them to indulge in whatever drink they'd want and he'd see them tomorrow morning before hastily retreating from the room.
"I think you could of sugarcoated the story a bit Clove" Cam spoke to his twin, using the endearment their father had when they were little. Clovers eyes brimmed with tears as she looked at her brother "And why would I do that?" she asked, her voice cracking "Just because he grew up in the ducal palace, being protected most of his life, that he doesn't deserve to know that not all of us are so fortunate" she whispered, wiping angrily at the tears that slid down her cheeks. Cam moved from the sofa he was sitting on to sit beside his sister "You saw his response when you forced him to see the scars those maniacs inflicted" he reasoned calmly "You shouldn't of put him in that position, you could of told him about the punishments, and when he asked about them we could of explained and showed him the result carefully, not shove it into his face, besides Fort Revenald is a long ways from Carvahal, there's nothing he could do about it, apart from notifying the king, who I'm sure is already well aware of the institute, unless you forgotten the royal mark on the canes" he continued. Clover grumbled "How could I forget, there wasn't a single lesson where it wasn't produced and used" she said bitterly, her eyes still tearing but from anger now. "You have to let it behind you Clover, I don't like what happened there either but I've learned to put it behind me, you however continually hold a grudge against these people, it shows when you talk about it, you can hear the resentment and hatred in your voice, what if we come across someone who wholeheartedly agrees with the institute hmm?" Cam asked quietly as he handed Clover the rest of his brandy, having watched her gulp hers down after she finished talking. Shakily Clover accepted the crystal glass, swirling the amber liquid inside it before downing it all in three large gulps "If I meet someone like that I'll make them feel the punishments we received, see how they like it" she spoke harshly. "You know just as well as I do, that it would be an unwise thing to do" Cam said gently, prying the empty glass from Clovers fingers and setting it aside "I think we ought to get some sleep, you heard the duke earlier, we're to report tomorrow morning to a man called Ivan Blazewind in the outer courtyard" he paused, getting up and helping his swaying sister onto her feet as the liquor went to her head "It's been a long and tiring day and we really ought to rest well, who knows what we're up against tomorrow" he joked as Clover sent a half hearted glare his way as he supported her "I ca-a-an walsk" she slurred, her eyes going out of focus momentarily. "Sure you can Clove" Cam sighed knowing he shouldn't of let Clover drink as much but at least it would knock her out for at least a good nights sleep. The way up the stairs to their allowed quarters were a bit of a tricky bit but one of the maiden servants had been doing her late night chores and helped Cam get a semi awake Clover into her room where he dropped her onto the large bed, still in her borrowed dress "Just let her sleep" he whispered to the maid who attempted to worm the woman out of her attire. The maid nodded but did resort to taking Clovers boots off, setting them beside the bed, unaware of the two concealed knives in the leather straps.
Cam made his way across the corridor to his own sleeping quarters, he unclothed swiftly and splashed some water into his weary face before slipping into his own bed, reciting poetry to himself to make his mind stop reeling from all the information they had gotten today. It didn't take long for the days events to take their toll on the young man and he drifted off to sleep.
In the shroud of midnight the master let his eyes wander over the storehouse, everything was prepared for their meeting there tomorrow, he had even managed to send a message to his hired assassin Venorik to come attend the meeting, not publicly but the man was stealthy enough not to be seen as he listened in onto the conversation. Earlier that evening he had send out his messenger boys, they had both returned baring replies the master had yet to decipher, they awaited him hidden in the secret bottom of his writing desks drawer. He would tend to those messages in the morning, now he needed to rest and gather his strength for tomorrows meeting, it all hung in a balance now and tomorrow the real siege plans of Fort Revenald would be revealed to all those willing to aid.
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Post by xaen on May 19, 2011 3:14:08 GMT 1
The sun was close to the center of the sky by the time Ambassador Timothy Westriver and his escort arrived the following morning at the fringes of the Ildera Forest, a few hours west of Fort Revenald south-western wall. The small force had left when the sky had just crested the eastern horizon, so that they could reach the camp by midday. Timothy was a tall scrawny blonde-haired man who once desired to join the Revenald Garrison, but the man was rejected because of a family disease that made his bones far to brittle to survive the blows of a sword even under armour. To dance around this snare he opted for a position as a diplomat, and this would be the first mission of his career. The group of five rode on strong black stallions, a breed that was quite common in the regions around Fort Revenald; they rode in a formation that had two in the front and two at the back with Timothy riding at the center. Two of his guard were simple peacekeepers and the other pair were Reven Ravens, a man and woman. Both wore simple chain mail armour under dazzling black and gold tabards that depicted the Raven emblem of Fort Revenald upon the chest and back, and each had a warsword sheathed at their waists and yew longbows strapped across their backs. Reaching the forest, the emissary force came to a halt and dismounted from their beautiful horses; even though the forest was clear of most underbrush, they did not want to chance laming a horse. The two Reven Ravens -whose names Timothy didn’t know- took the lead through the woods, occasionally disappearing to scout ahead and search out the limits of the Vorshtaran camp. After a short trek through the wilds, the group located the camp in a large clearing that had been expanded by its current occupants to fit the small horde. The camp was filled with loud vigorous chatter, and constant noise as supplies and armaments were shifted about the camp. Timothy and his peacekeeper guards entered the camp and were quickly rewarded with dead silence as the entire field immediately hushed. The Reven Ravens had stayed behind to collect strategic information from the shadows as they slinked silently in their chain armour around the camp. With the knowledge that the Ravens would also be watching over his safety with their powerful bows, Timothy found the will to speak, “Greetings from Duke Cyrteris Mraen, where is the Shaman Xaxistics for we have much to discuss!” The Vorshtarans erupted into brutal laughter at the skinny ambassador who demanded to meet with Xaxistics; a even few moved threateningly towards the envoy, but were stopped by the mighty tanned hand of Xaxistics.
“Were is my envoy, insignificant man?” Xaxistics growled at the Erumaran ambassador and his peacekeepers, who were sorely outnumbered. Xaxistics to anyone was an imposing figure, standing at seven feet three inches with a incredibly angry features and brutal facial scars that made him look ghastly. The Shaman loomed well over Timothy’s six foot seven inch height with a terrible sneer spread across his ugly face.
Timothy shrunk away from the giant bear of a man as he forced his vocal cords to hold strong, “Your emissary Vlan’Tur is still freely wandering the streets of Fort Revenald, and has shown no desire yet to leave.” Tim silently hoping that his truthful answer would not only save his life, but possibly ease negotiations. Xaxistics simply nodded his understanding and guided Tim and his entourage to a large tent at the center of the Vorshtaran camp. Passing through the canvas flap, Timothy eyes discovered a near barren plot of dirt that was covered by a single ruff rug and a few floor cushions for them to sit on. The Peacekeepers were forced to wait outside, leaving skinny Timothy alone with the massive shaman who could snap his neck with a flick of his wrist. “Duke Cyrteris Mraen wishes to open up the possibility of a peaceful solution that is not so drastic as your demands,” Ambassador Westriver started as he sat down on one of the thin straw pillow seats, avoiding eye contact with the stronger Vorshtaran across from him. “Duke Mraen offers trade relations with your people and an addition to your borders,” The Erumaran envoy continued and then pausing waiting for a reply for his silent enemy, who simply wave his hand in the gesture for Timothy to continue. “You and your people will get an extra twenty miles added to your eastern border, and we offer untaxed trade agreements for the next three years,” Tim finished as an interested smile grew across Xaxistics face, and thereby opening the door for possible peace between the two kingdoms once more. But that door was slammed firmly shut by Xaxistics harsh and obnoxiously loud laughter, that followed a few moments latter.
A fierce sneer appeared once again on Xaxistics horrible face as his laughter died, his clear blue eyes drilling painful holes through Tim’s head from across the sitting area. “Why would I settle for so little when I can take it all,” The shaman growled as he indicated nearby Revenald with a massive paw, Tim cowering under the ferocity of the Vorshtaran’s strong words. “No, I do not accept your pitiful offer. Get out of my camp,” The Vorshtaran spat at the Erumaran envoy viciously ending any debates making this entire trip almost pointless for the cowering diplomat. Timothy Westriver and his convoy quicky scurried from the forest and made terrible haste for Fort Revenald to inform the Duke of Xaxistics answer, they reached the city at nightfall.
Meanwhile that morning, Ivan Blazewind paced the outer courtyard grumbling angrily to himself as he waited for his charges who were already late. Ivan continuously grumped as his hands ran through his salt and pepper hair repeatedly trying to comb away his irritation with the new recruits that Cyrteris had saddled him with. He wore his usual garb the studded leather armour that was nearly as old as he, the same black tunic under that armour over a pair of black cotton pants. The only thing different is Ivan had discarded his usually black cloak for a brown one that was pinned about his wrinkly neck by the same old Reven Raven brooch. “Where the in the Hells are those damn kids?!?” The old geezer huffed and puffed as he continued to walk in an endless circle in the courtyard.
While Ivan paced, Cyrteris scrambled around the extravagant corridors of the Ducal Palace as he dealt with trivial problems that paled in comparison to the brewing war. But as his badgering officials kept on reminding the Duke, “If such tasks were ignored the city would surely collapse before the barbarians even reached our gates!” So the young Duke was stuck in a metaphorical headlock with stupid mundane tasks that distracted him for more than half the day, and whenever he had the chance he wondered how Clover and Cam were doing on their first mission. By noon Cyrteris was exhausted, but he still had to wait for the Peacekeeper reports, his envoy and his newest recruits arrival in a few more hours. The Duke badly wished to speak to Vlan’Tur again and sway his mind, maybe even opening up a channel of converse with another figurehead in the Vorshtaran culture that would be more likely to see reason. Such plans were immediately set aside when another army of officials stormed into his office, throwing more paperwork, court hearings, and other remedial tasks that “needed” his absolute attention. Cyrteris silently promised himself to speak with the Vorshtaran delegate after receiving his evening reports, possibly even bringing the Rue’s with him.
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Post by Culmir on May 19, 2011 19:26:15 GMT 1
Neither Cam nor Clover hadn't had the luxury of sleeping in a soft bed in quite some times, they relied on the rays of early morning sun to wake them up from their sleep, as it did every morning, however they didn't realize that while they had been in the lounge with the duke some servants had come into their chambers and had drawn shutters in front of the windows before sliding the heavy curtains in front of them, thus keeping the room pleasantly dark. It was thanks to those same servants coming into the rooms to clean up after they assumed their occupants had already gotten up in the morning to report to their training grounds in the outer courtyard. It was therefor quite a surprise as both maids entered the opposite rooms and found two dishevelled inhabitants still slumbering in their tousled bed sheets, coughing discreetly the two maids tried to wake up the sleeping occupants.
Cam grumbled and pulled the sheets over his head, not wanting to get up so early, it was still dark outside and he didn't understand why his sister would bother him now that he had finally found a nice position on their floor, honestly what was she thinking. With a bit of a mental eye roll Cam snuggled deeper into his surprising soft bit of earth, or so he thought.
Clover on the other end of the hallway in her own room shot bolt right out of bed, regretting it immensely as a lightning stab of pain shot through her head "Ow" she gasped in surprise as she clutched her forehead with both hands, hearing a remarkable snicker of laughter coming from the centre of the room. Peeking carefully through her fingers, her eyes squinted to reduce the pin pricks of pain in her eyes as she made out a small woman in a maiden outfit stifling her laughter "Not funny" Clover groaned as she launched herself off the bed, the pain in her head reaching a peak as she wobbled unsteadily on her feet, squinting still. "Ugh" she groaned as she stared into the full length mirror, the dress she had been wearing was crinkled and smudged, her hair was a red haystack on top of her head and her eyes were watering and red "What happened" she said softly as she touched her head gingerly, trying to smooth her hair. "Last we heard was that you, your brother, the council and his grace had a glass of Cayld brandy in one of the lounges before you all retired to bed" the maid said helpfully as she was already busying herself with the bed sheets. Blinking slowly Clover stared at herself, she looked like hell, and her mouth felt cotton dry while her head pounded incessantly "Does everyone else feel like this?" she asked grumpily as she managed to get her hair to at least stop standing straight up. Snickering the maid shook her head "No, they were smart enough just to take one glass, my best guess is that you took two or more, which in case of Cayld brandy, isn't a smart option" she giggled as she finished making the bed. The maid walked over to Clover "Lets get your brother and see if we can fix you up before you go to your training, you're already late, but we should at least present you decently" the maid muttered. The words took a minute to sink in because of the hangover but once the meaning got through Clover launched herself to her door, wrenched it open, stomped through the open door to her brothers chambers and pounced on his sleeping form, shaking him violently "Get uuuup" she yelled "We're late for our training!"
Cam shot bolt upright in bed, throwing Clover off himself and off the bed as she landed with a thud "Oh crap" he swore as he got up smoothly, jumping into his old clothes swiftly before he remembered Clover who was wide eyed besides the bed. "Ow" she wailed as she held her dizzy head with a hand to steady it, she felt like it was spinning in circles when it was really quite still. "What's wrong with her?" Cam asked the two stunned maids who had never in their life watched a half naked man get into his clothes as fast as Cam had. "Hello" Cam said as he waved a hand in front of the maidens eyes "Whats wrong with my sister?" he asked once again "She drank too much" the maid who had attended to Clovers room replied "We were going to get you, fix her up and then get down to the courtyard" she said, dazed. Cam groaned as she walked over to Clover, picking her up from the floor, swinging her over his shoulder and carrying her back to her chambers as the maids followed astounded "Can you dress her in the clothes she wore before?" Cam asked slowly as both maids seemed to have a bit of a haze in their eyes. He smiled when they nodded in unison "Good, now can you tell me the way to the kitchens please?" he continued, he took off swiftly when they gave him the short directions, leaving Clover in their capable hands, not really wanted to have to undress and re-dress his hungover sister and glad to give away that job.
Cam found his way down to the kitchens easily enough, he took one wrong turn and a helpful kitchen hand pointed him back the right way. The cook turned out to be a slender woman with pearly white hair who wielded a large spoon as if it were her sceptre and the kitchen her kingdom, she was happy enough to whip up a suitable breakfast for Cam and a remedial one for Clover after Cam explained the situation. "Now remember, she has to drink all of it" the cook named Poledra explained carefully to Cam as he handed him a large steaming mug of brown goo "It's going to taste really bad, but it will help instantly, and then you ought to hurry before Ivan leaves, I'll send out a help to inform him of your situation and tell him you'll be there shortly, I'm sure he'll understand, if he doesn't he can come and take it up with me" she spoke sternly, putting her hands firmly in her sides, a frown on her face. Nodding his thanks Cam scarfed down his own breakfast which was made up of a large piece of bread slathered in butter and a creamy sort of cheese and a large slab of ham as he hurried up to their chambers.
Clover was miserable, her forehead creased in frowns of misery as she clutched at her head, she'd been hungover before but this was worse, so much worse, she groaned as she rocked on the bed. Cam slipped into the room, carefully holding on the large steaming glass with both hands as he smiled at his dressed sister, he was pleased to note the maids had managed to tame Clovers hair further and got her out of the grey dress and into her own attire. Handing her the glass gingerly he sat down beside her on the bed "Drink it Clove, it'll help, the cook made it herself, I think she knows a bit about remedial potions when it comes to hangovers" he snickered. Glaring at her brother Clover sniffed the muddy concoction, it smelled horrible, she glared again at her brother who nodded encouragingly, she grimaced, pinching her nose and drinking down the foul smelling mud drink.
The effect was fortunately swift and Clover breathed a sigh of relief when the headache seemed to siphon right out of her head "Wow, that drink is amazing" she whispered. "Yeah, we'll be sure to stop by the kitchens and properly thank Poledra okay, but now we have to hurry" Cam got up and latched onto his sisters hand with his, dragging her down the flight of stairs, through the house, having been given strict instructions by Poledra on how to get to the outer courtyard. Finally they arrived, a large brownish - blonde man standing there, scowling heavily at the pair who both had the decency to look sheepish. "We're really sorry for being late, did Poledra send you the message explaining why?" Cam asked timidly.
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Post by xaen on May 19, 2011 21:50:27 GMT 1
”Why yes I did get the sweet concerned message from beautiful Poledra, Girl!” Ivan huffed at the young lady and her brother who had arrived late on their first ever meeting. “Ivan Blazewind. Your Cam and Clover Rue,” The old black and grey haired ranger roughly stated in his grumpiest tone possible as he eyed the pair. The girl still looked a little worse for ware, but Cayld Brandy does that to a person even the heartiest drinkers. Cam on the other hand appeared refreshed and enthusiastic for the remedial day of half training half mission. Folding his grizzled paws behind his strong muscled back, Ivan began to pace like a drill sergeant in front of the twins. “As you probably have learned I am your superior. You may refer to me as Sir or Ivan. I care not which one you choice,” Old Ranger Blazewind began in his best commanding voice as he came to a clomping halt between the two Rue‘s with a light scowl on his wrinkled face. “I shall now briefly explain today‘s mission,” Ivan grumbled as his hazel orbs locked with the grey ones of his latest recruits, “We shall be investigating a man named Jarvis Felvon. A man suspected of illegal slave trading and owner of the Felvon Compound in the Middle Class district.” With a rough phlegm cough Ivan finished his briefing and guide the pair to the edges of the wealthy district before stopping and speaking once again. “The compound is five blocks east from here, it has a short cobblestone wall with steel prongs sticking out of the tops and an blue and white checked flag over the gate,” Ivan explained to the new recruits as he examined the crowds that filtered along the winding street that stood on. “I want you two to each take a separate route along the streets only, while I take to the roof tops,” The Old Ranger wheezed before a fierce string of violent hacking coughs racked his aged lungs. Once the terrible tirade of coughs was over the grumpy old man half-hobbled, and half-stumbled to the edge of a building that held the best handholds for a quick climb. Planting an old hand against the structure to balance himself, Ivan turned back to his twin charges and continued, “I will wait for you in front of The Singing Sword tavern across the street from the Felvon Compound.” Ivan Blazewind rolled his creaky shoulders in preparation of the strenuous task at hand as he quickly added, “Any questions?”
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