Emoria: Valinyx

[Guest]

DAY 1

Alys Rae walked through the dark halls of the underbelly of Vallar Cathedral. She felt more at home down here than many of the Order of Valinyx; all members of the Ordis Sect did. The shadows and the murk were fitting with their personality. She walked unhurried through the halls until she reached her destination, a damp room with a single chair. Sitting in the chair was Spirean, one from their infamous Guild of Heroes. The smirk on the man's face, however, told Alys that he didn't quite understand how dire this meeting was for him.

The man had been stripped of his symbolic blue armor, which was now laying in a pile on the floor in one dark corner of the room. Beneath his tunic and trousers was a muscular body of a powerful warrior. Most people would have good reason to fear this man. But not Alys; she had never had reason to fear any man, or woman. She did not fear the High Priestess of Valinxy herself, though she knew the woman's importance. Not even Ordis could protect Alys from Vallar's wrath should she step beyond her bounds and attack the High Priestess. No, she still had some things to do, some events to put in motion. This stripped Hero would be the beginning of that.

"You have no idea what you've done," the Hero said as Alys stepped into the room. His smirk hardened into a fierce glare, though one that had no affect on Alys.
"I don't?" Alys asked, trying her best to form a look of genuine concern.
"The High Priestess has established formal relations with Spire, relations you put in jeapordy by holding me here. If she were to hear of this..."
"'If' is the key word. Unfortunately, she won't be hearing of this. Not yet. Nor will Spire note your absence for some time. If you remember correctly, your companions left you for dead, assuming the fatal blow delivered to your stomach had indeed been fatal."
The Hero's glare twisted into a look of confusion. "What did you do to me?" he asked. "Why would you save me, if just to lock me in here? What do you want from me?"
"I want your cooperation, Hero. But if I can't have that, your life will do nicely. I'll tell you when I need it, and you will give it to me." The Hero laughed loudly, obviously taking her statement as some form of a joke, or just the ramblings of a mad woman. "You will spend your time in here until I need you," Alys continued. "Enjoy your stay."

Alys turned and strode from the room, ignoring the Hero's yelling and calls to her.
"What are your plans, Mistress," came the expected voice from behind her. It was her silent shadow, her contact with the priestesses of Vallar in the Order of Valinyx. Her presence her was kept secret to all but Alys.
"I will draw out our enemies, and then I will use him to destroy them in one swift stroke."
"Can you do it?" the priestess asked. Alys knew she was referring to her drawing out her enemies, rather than her ability to destroy them.
"Of course I can, priestess. Is there anything else?"
"They have arrived," said the priestess.
"Who?" Alys asked, not likeing the girls cryptic statement.
"The ships from beyond," the priestess replied. "The mysterious traders from beyond the great ocean."
Alys cursed quietly. She had indeed heard of the ships, and of their desire to trade with Valinxy. Normally that would be no problem, but at this point it could potentially ruin her plans.

"I must meet with these people," Alys said. "Perhaps we can use them to our benefit. If not...then perhaps I will ask Morgarath for aid or guidance."

[Spectre]

Standing on the foredeck of a moving caravel, Dastan Imatari looked on to the shoreline of the Valinyx port. The sun was up, and the wind from the breeze was blowing his black hair across his face. The blue ocean waves were a beautiful sight to him, no matter how many time's he'd seen them. Hearing them clash with the boat, however now more slowly, they were coming in to port. The waters seemed a little more brownish toward the ports, and the ship was slowing to dock. Turning on his heel, and passing a couple deckhands, he descended a short ladder, and proceeded across the main deck, and into the captain's quarters. Opening the door quickly, he looked straight, and directly out the back window which he had opened earlier. He could see nothing but blue in the horizon, as well as the Frigates, and other sailing ships leaving port, and fishing, or waiting to dock. One of which was a Suiturian frigate holding several tons of product, the other a galleon. He could easily tell by the white sails, with a golden down-pointed sword, and two green dragons climbing it. The Suiturian crest was on the largest, sail of each ship.

The office was small, and efficient. Only lit now by the large double windows in the back, the dusty room had a large royal blue rug, where a mahogany-colored desk sat. Off to the side was another desk, and a bed with a tiny nightstand. The other side had a cabinet, a coat rack, and a chair with a mirror behind and above it. His attention was re-focused on his task at hand, tell the captain of the ship's proximity, and notify him that he would leave for negotiations immediately after docking. Keep the men aboard the ship, and let the Templar deal with the job at hand. Outside of the captain's office was heard a few calls to the other deck hands, and seamen, trying to get the boat lined to port, and tied down.

"Captain, We're docking as you know. Keep all the men on board, please. If anything, don't let them off the dock." Dastan spoke casually, standing in the middle of the room, looking to the captain sitting at a mahogany desk, slouched, appearing very tired and worn. Probably a lack of sleep had done this to the man. He was slouched so far down, the collar of his coat was above his head, and the front lapels were pushing up onto his face, pushing his large mustache aside.

"Oh?" the captain blinked, and sort of slid upward to better his posture. "Excellent... i must've dozed longer than i wanted!" laughing. His accent was something attuned to an english one. However a sailor, his voice was a bit gruff from a profession in having to holler about to his crew. "You taking anyone?" Dastan walked to the windows, the light now cast on his light colored shirt, and reaching up with each step closer he made. Below the windows was a cushioned bench, where his two short swords were. Bending down to grab them, Dastan walked back to the doorway. Sliding the swords into the rear of his belt, he spoke again, turning his head to look over his shoulder.

"Maybe, I'm not entirely sure. I'll try not to keep you waiting too long, old friend." Dastan smirked.

"Well you know almost any of these men'd be more'n delighted to accompany you." the captain had wedged his elbows to the armrests of the chair.

Giving an exhale and a nod, he then stepped forward, out into the sun again, closing the door with a swift movement behind him.The captain sat up, and leaned his elbows onto the table, pushing a quill aside, and sliding a piece of paper.

"God help this country." the man laughed, then quickly scooted his chair out to stand, to give orders to the crew.

---

Seagulls circled above, and the winds were light, enough to carry the scent of the saltwater seas. The wind was also cold, bringing a chill to almost anyone unused to this weather. The dock was wide, and theirs was basically empty. Only a few staff members of the Dock's registrar was there to greet Dastan on the ramp. There were about ten docking bays, each able to port two frigates on each side. It was large, and able to accommodate the Suiturian naval ships. Two more Suiturian ships would be arriving to port soon, and they'd all be able to fit nicely just on their strip.

"You've got to be kidding me." one of the dock's port workers murmured to the registrar clerk. He was there, a long rope raveled and tied, slung over his shoulder. White shirt, and ragged pants with firm boots. Standing before him, was the registrar. Dressed in a nicer suit, not formal attire, but business appropriate. They lingered on the strip, awaiting the disembarking of it's passengers.

"What?" the registrar asked, just before looking at the figure proudly walking across the pick to the dock. Upon looking, the man immediately raised an eyebrow, a bit frozen. "O-.... Oh." he whispered to himself.

Dastan was a figure who commanded respect. He walked with a sort of arrogance, his face flat, and his eyes never wandered. He was also only seventeen. Something that took many by surprise, especially people who received word that 'A high ranking official from the Suiturian government, across the ocean, would be arriving to port". Dastan walked, almost floated across the platform. His drapery that is wrapped at his waist was now a cloak for him, a large collar sticking up like a stovepipe reaching his nose, and a dark navy color. It blocked most of the cold. His hair and cloak rippled a bit with wind gusts. Behind Dastan were two men, middle aged, slightly above average in height, both armed with swords, and both wearing a white long-sleeved shirt over chain-mail, with a blue sleeveless over-tunic, and white capes. Knights, apparently.They filed onto the dock, Dastan first, then the two knights behind him, standing a few feet apart.

"Which one of you is a Lord Imatari Dastan?" the registrar inquired politely. The name was backwards, though the registrar had no idea. In Suituria it is very 'eastern' styled, the surname first, given name last.

"I am." Dastan replied, his voice smooth. Giving a nod, the registrar offered his hand out to direct the group to the ledger where they are to report and sign in.

"I trust the seas were calm for your journey?" he asked, making polite conversation as they made the near fifty yard walk to the shoreline plaza, and subsequently, the ledger.

"No real troubles," he paused, looking toward the city as they walked. "I trust one of your people will be here to direct me?" he asked plainly, not seeing anyone at the shoreline part of the dock just yet. At least, anyone who looked like they held status.

"Of course." the man replied, smiling, looking over to Dastan, and nodding to the two knights behind him. An awkward silence accompanied the four as they marched across the rest of the dock and arrived at the shoreline plaza, where a pedestal was waiting with an open book. The registrar scribbled something in the book, and asked without any character, "Name....?"

Replying with accuracy and without much of a pause, he rapidly stated "Imatari Dastan," Continuing to scribble, the registrar then asked

"Ship name? Class, and crew?"

"Suiturian Naval Vessel:Fanelia. Caravel. Twenty."

"Excellent, thank you." The register official then nodded his head, setting the pen back down. "Enjoy your stay, Lord Imatari. They may meet you at the gates." Who would they be meeting? It didn't matter to Dastan. The people they were to meet would certainly recognize newcomers, especially since the two knights had the Suiturian signet on their white capes. Easy to spot. They would be noticed upon setting foot under the gates to Valinyx.

Dastan gave a polite nod, and turned around, giving a nod to his knights.They proceeded across the plaza and toward the city gates, seeing the upper halves of several large white stoned buildings, and what appeared to be an official building, or even a cathedral towering over some of the other tall buildings. They walked diligently across the plaza toward the gates, Dastan's cloak, and the two knights' capes billowed lightly with their speed, coupled with the breeze. . .

[Guest]

I wonder why she kept this from me, Alys thought to herself. She watched as the group of men debarked and made their way to the city gate. She stood there with her arms crossed, glaring at the ship sitting in the harbor and the men approaching her city. Her city...that was an arrogant thought, she knew, but if everything went according to plan, then it would soon be her city.

She allowed a tiny smile as the three men approached her. Two men in white cloaks flanked the younger man in the center. Their styles seemed ridiculous to her, but she knew better than voice her criticisms. The men walked up to her, the only person standing before the gate leading into Valinyx.

"Welcome to the great city of Valinyx, gentlemen. I am Alys Rae, High Sanguine of the Ordis Sect of the Order of Valinyx. The High Priestess has eagerly awaited your arrival," she lied. The truth was, she had no idea what the High Priestess thought. It was quite uncharacteristic of her to keep Alys in the dark concerning the arrival of these people from across the ocean. "I will escort you to the Vallar Cathedral and show you to your rooms. The High Priestess will meet with you in the morning. If you have any questions or concerns, feel free to direct them to me." Alys held her smile. It wasn't hard to do, despite how much she despised men. She'd had plenty of practice over the years.

Without waiting for a response, she turned toward the gate. She waved to the guard, who promptly opned the gate. It opened swiftly and quietly. She strode though, into the city beyond, though not at a pace the three foreigners would have trouble matching. She would march them straight through the center of the city, a large boulevard lined with towering, white stone buildings. It would lead straight to the cathedral, which could already been seen in the distance.

"Tell me, what will be the nature of our trade?" Alys asked, hoping to clarify some of the details the High Priestess had kept from her.

[Spectre]

His dark Navy coat covered to his upper lip, however he would be easily heard from behind it.

"Greetings, Hig Sanguin Alys Rae," he replied with the nod of his head. The two knights wedged behind him nodded their heads in acknowledgment and thanks, as well. Dastan watched as Alys turned and began to march toward the Cathedral. The three Suiturians followed suit.

The City's street they were on vaguely reminded him of home. However a different aesthetic, the set up seemed similar. Maybe because most cities have a similar layout, or maybe because Dastan was trying to place something of familiarity in the situation far from home.

He was only a step behind Alys when she spoke to him, however he found her question curious.

"The nature of our trade?" he asked in a plain tone. He immediately found it quite odd that a High Sanguine- who Dastan assumed was a high ranking officer, didn't know of the manner of the trade. It would be difficult to hide such a large shipment, so this order member would certainly find out sooner or later. "I'm not sure you need to know. However, being in the Order, I'm sure you'll find out eventually anyhow." Speaking frankly, he then paused. Taking a look to his immediate surroundings, making sure there were no prying eyes, or over eager ears, he made sure it was safe to speak. "I've got ships full of arms and armour, anchored outside of the harbor. All made by our finest smiths, armorers, and fletchers." he said taking a final look behind him before the gate closed. Seeing the dock and plaza one last time, and the sail of his caravel. "I'll say that much." He gave a pause, and asked as they passed by another towering building, "My country is known for it's superior quality and design. Your people will surely be happy."

At a first glance the knights behind the young Templar would appear to be typical. White capes draped from over their neck and shoulders. Dark blue tunics over carbon-colored chainmail, and a thin, flexible breastplate. Leather gloves, and leather boots with a layer of plate armor over the shin and knee. However under analysis and trial, the metals were lightweight, and very strong. Not needing as much constant care as regular steel or iron.

He then thought on the matter for a moment. "As part of the order I'm surprised you haven't heard. Unless they wanted your men and women at arms to be surprised with new 'toys'?"

[Guest]

Not sure I need to know? Who does this foreigner think he is? Alys bit her tongue rather than saying the things she wanted to say. She was already wishing she hadn't opened her mouth in the first place.

"I'm sure the High Priestess had her reasons for leaving my sect in the dark about this," Alys said coldly. "Perhaps she seemed simple trade contracts with foreigners beneath me." Alys was sure the reason was more than that, but whe wasn't about to let this arrogant man know that.
The cathedral was looming closer, and the buildings that surrounded it were larger and more grand than those nearer to the harbor. It was as if this section of the city aspired to look as grand and important as the great cathedral.
While sometimes the height of its walls, its towers, and the colors of the thousand glass windows caught her breath, she couldn't say that she actually admired the place. It was a means to an end, nothing more. The overcast sky seemed to dimish the beauty, however. The windows lacked their shine, and the colors seemed dull rather than vibrant. The High Priestess would likely be disappointed by the first impression of her magnificent home. But Alys couldn't make the sun shine brighter. At least, not without making a scene. She doubted that was the "first impression" the High Priestess wanted.

Alys brought her mind back to the men trailing her. "As far as the quality of your merchandise," she continued dryly, "that won't be known until they are put to the test, yes? That opportunity is fast approaching. There are rumors of war, have you not heard? And there is rebellion in our own lands. The High Priestess will likely tell you of this before finalizing any contracts. There are certain...dangers in making port here." From what she had learned of these people, the threat of war would not frighten them away. But she felt it pertinent to let them know that they weren't afraid. Valinxy would not be conquered easily, if at all.

[Spectre]

"Hm, possibly." He muttered collaboratively. Maybe they were left out because they weren't involved directly with the transaction. Regardless, It wasn't in his country's nature to divulge information to anyone other than the person involved in a deal, or people he has specifically been told that have been privileged. This politic was heavy with the 'need to know' policy. Dastan wasn't worried about it, because he knew that this country would happily take the trade as discussed.

He had listened and took in his surroundings with detail. Taking in exit opportunities, probable cover, tactical advantages, and other unique landmarks like certain sized buildings, shops, inns, and the like. He never expected to use it, however it was instinct to look over.

"Rumors of war?" he asked, before completely answering her question. "No, I haven't heard. However I did hear about unrest inside your country's borders. I'm sure your order will not be displeased... Especially if your people will be putting them to use soon." they continued walking for a few steps, as they were closing on the cathedral. magnificent, it was. Especially to foreign eyes. Dastan was used to rounded or angular rooftops, good for drainage, and repelling and directing rain. He was also used to smaller cities, darker skies, and heavy fog and rainfall. Cold weather and snow weren't completely foreign to him, but this city was something a little more grand than he was used to.

"Dangers to port?" he asked, looking back to his cohorts with a smirk. "We'll have to keep an eye out, then." he nodded in assurance. He just wanted to get this over with, so they could meet, deal arms, and finish business. He may be only seventeen, but he had a country's business to get back to...

[Guest]

Alys and the men behind her resumed the trip in silence. The streets were beginning to line with citizens of the city. They were all interested in getting a glimpse of these foreigners, and Alys knew they were all gossiping about what it was that they wanted. She wouldn't have been surprised to hear rumors of invasion.
At last they reached the steps climbing up to the majestic cathedral. Enormous flying buttresses spread outward from the stone walls like the legs of a spider, and as they began ascending the steps she could make out the intricate details of the thousand windows. They were a history of all of Valinyx, particularly of the Order itself. There was more of their history in that glass than could be found in all of the books in Valinyx. It was quite an amazing feat, she had to admit.

At the top of the steps were several members of the High Priestess' own retinue. They all wore colorfully patterned robes, like an evening sky painted by the setting sun. Their hands were clasped together at their chest, and hidden beneath the folds of their robes. They all wore smiles, though Alys knew they had to be nervous. The Ordis Sect dealth in punishments. The Order of Vallar was more bureaucratic; dealing in arms trade with a militaristic culture would no doubt put them on edge. Alys smiled slightly.

The women of the High Priestess bowed as they reached the top of the steps.
"This is Dastan Imatari," Alsy said, waving her hand toward him and his guard and completely ignoring formal custom. He is here to negotiate the trade contract.
The smiles of the priestess' of the Order faded slightly. The Ordis Sect wasn't very popular, even if it was necessary. And Alys was the least popular of all. Her taste for blood was uncanny even among the Valinyx.

"Welcome to Valinyx," one of the priestesses said, bowing her head to the foreigners. "The High Priestess wishes to meet with you inside the Vallar Cathedral. She also wishes to extend her hospitality to the rest of your crew. There is room enough in the cathedral, or in the city's inns, if they prefer."

Alys rolled her eyes. From this point on, it was going to be incredibly dull.

[Spectre]

They had finally met the stairs. Looking upon the sprawling cathedral, Dastan and his crew were reminded of a castle their forces were commissioned to storm. Dastan lead a small force in through a drainage gate, taking down part of a wall. From there they were to raid a cathedral and raze it to the ground from behind the enemy front... Not a particularly fond memory, however it undoubtedly flashed in their minds as they saw the buttresses, and the spires. This particular cathedral was however much more distinguished and better taken care of.

Climbing the stairs, Dastan looked upon the members of the order, dressed in warm colored robes. Their smiles were as warm and as decorative as their robes. Maybe they were curious of these newcomers. The donor and provider of tools to destroy and terrorize. The word terrorize used in different meanings. Terrorize because they can be overwhelmingly powerful in the right hands. Also because the equipment itself was beautiful, yet daunting at the same time. Both curved and straight blades, some jagged and fear instilling. Maces and morningstars with spikes, intimidating axes, hooked, pointed, and jagged spears and pikes. Ornate armors of carbons, blues, and whites. Small, Kite, and Tower shields as ornate as the armors they coincide with. Decorative longbows, and arrows with chilling heads. Dastan was indeed a purveyor of suffering, however in his own right a noble warrior. He would allow them to keep to themselves when it came to him- as to Dastan their opinions mattered not. He was there to do business.

Dastan stopped at the top of the staircase, and bowed from the waist as he was introduced, and his knights lowered their heads and placed their right hands over their hearts. As they were offered Quarters, Dastan turned to one of his Knights, and muttered something under his breath. The Knight nodded, turned on his heel and quickly pursued the way back to the ship. His white cape rippling behind him as he quickly descended the stairs. Their loyalty to this young boy was uncanny... Leaving the ones around to wonder if he were Royalty, if in case they had not heard of the Templars of Suituria.

Dastan turned back to the Order members, "Indeed, thank you." he smiled to them, his mouth probably hidden, though his eyes conveyed the grateful emotion. "I'll have my men set up in an Inn close by, your accommodations are generous. However if it suits you, my captains and I will stay within the cathedral." He awaited a moment, "So, let us begin, the High Priestess is inside?." He asked, gesturing toward toe cathedral doors with an open hand, and a smile.

[Guest]

Alys gritted her teeth and folded her arms. She hated doing this: pretending day after day that she was just another loyal servant of the High Priestess. And yet, she had been chosen for her duty because of her unwavering patience and unbreakable will. She couldn't understand why simple politics and social formalities bothered her so much. Perhaps because those annoyances had been absent during most of training. Growing up as a girl hadn't been about being raised fancy gowns and dinner table etiquitte, but in spilling blood. Perhaps her lack of patience was due more to the fact that she had been forced to leave her sword, Mithrodin, inside of the cathedral.

She glared at the young foreigner, Imatari. She doubted that he had even reached the age of adult-hood. And yet here he was, crafting trade agreements with the highest power of a foreign nation. He had brought this trouble, this petty annoyance that kept her from attending to business, upon her. She rubbed the mark on the inside of her left wrist with a gloved thumb. The mark was a star, a birthmark known as the Mark of Vallar. How she itched to use its power.
Patience!, she reminded herself, grinding her teeth even harder. When had she lost her patience? She knew without needing to think too hard that it was because of Morgarath, the ancient and powerful Dark Lord. Simply thinking about his power, his promises, was enough to make her lust for blood.

Alys smiled slightly as the young man urged the group of priestesses to move inside. These women liked to dally, and Alys took pleasure in even someone else causing them annoyance. However, the priestesses simply returned his smile and nodded gracefully.

"Of course, my Lord. Please, this way."

Alys followed the group silently, slipping in line behind Imatari's own guards. One of them looked back at her for a short moment, but he betrayed no emotions.
Militaristic indeed, Alys thought to herself.

The entrance to the cathedral was an enormous set of doors, carved with more of the rich history of Valinyx, and much of Talonia at large. Many of the scenes depicted in the carvings she could recognize. Before her calling to the Ordis Sect, she had sat on the steps leading up to this great entrance and stared at the carvings that lined the doors, and filled the doors themselves. She had desired to know the meaning of every scene, to understand the history as well as those who had carved it. She had quickly lost that desire when she found her true calling. While it had been necessary to learn many of the scenes, she only comprehended as far as was necessary for recitation.

Beyond the portal was the massive grand entry way to the cathedral. Many of the cathedrals across Valinyx consisted mostly of this very room. In the Vallar Cathedral, however, it was merely the heart of something far more...megalomania.
The air within was cold, and Alys felt a breeze from somewhere stir through her thick hair. Her boots echoed on the stone floor as they walked through the hall. Multi-colored light filtered through the glass windows off and on, as the sun managed to periodically shine through the clouds. It reminded Alys of a flickering candle, and she couldn't help but associate it with the waning life of the Order itself, like a candle burning the last of its wick.

The High Priestess stood at an altar at the far end of the hall, her back to the approaching group. Rows of benches stood between them and the High Priestess. She did not turn until the priestesses leading them had reached the hindmost benches.

"Ah!" said the High Priestess, a large smile splitting her face. How Alys had dreamed of thrusting Mithrodin through that ever-smiling face. It was another urge that had grown stronger over time. The High Priestess raised her arms in a welcoming gesture. "At last, you have arrived! Please, be seated." She waved an arm to the rows of benches before her, indicating that she wished their conversation to take place here. It wasn't like her, Alys noted. But then, they hadn't ever had contact with a nation outside of Talonia.
"I am Avalandra, the High Priestess of the Order of Vallar. Welcome to Valinyx, our grand home!"

[Spectre]

Grand was probably one of the best word to use other than astounding or bewildering, when it came to Dastan's thoughts of the inside of the Cathedral. The outside was indeed a sight to see, thought the inside was in a different league.

Marching to the altar, the Priestess had finally turned to greet them as they passed row after row of pews. Formal enough, and welcoming enough, Dastan would think. Almost as if it were too inviting. They were here to discuss trade, not attend a religious sermon. As astonishingly beautiful the cathedral, and altar were, he didn't want to spend too much time here.

"Thank you, High Priestess." He nodded to his remaining guard to take a seat in the second row of benches, as Dastan moved to sit in a row ahead, diagonally and to the right of his guard. "I am Dastan Imatari- Elite Templar of the Suiturian Government." Bending at the waist, he gave a bow, and brough his right hand over his heart. He didn't want to sit, he'd rather stand face to face with the priestess. "A grand welcome, and an honor to be within these walls." He shifted in the pew to finally take a seat. The boat trip was long, and he had been sitting for a majority of that time. He didn't have much desire to continue sitting. "May we conduct business?" he asked politely, even though he just wanted to drift right into his presentation. Awaiting any verbal or other signs for him to continue, he politely began.

"Two Suiturian frigates have made port, carrying many crates of my country's finest goods... Another frigate is at sea, escorted by another caravel of my like, carrying comrades to assist in trade direction, and even demonstration." he tilted his head forward, lightly raising his eyebrows, hoping he wasn't crossing any bounds. He didn't want to go praddling on about weapons if no one else was supposed to know about it. This seemed to be a place of sanctuary and worship. A place where the words and tools of violence may not be welcome to unknowing ears. Not many religious sects sought to arm themselves with some of the finest weaponry offered in the next continent. It was odd to Dastan, though reason never mattered. It was not his problem or concern how, or why they were using them.

He figured they may need a demonstration of the weapon quality. Maybe a small tournament or some sort of offensive against Valinyx's revolution. Who knows, regardless of what it was, Dastan would likely agree to do it. There was much confidence in him, even though not much showed about his personality other than his intelligence, his cool resolve, and a slight air of arrogance... or was it independence? It was certainly hard to tell at this point, as he had only entered the country.

[Blackrock]

After the Council...

Perun stood up with a slight grunt, the weight of the armour and the long minutes spent on the chair, lavish as it was, taking their toil. It was more than that, he knew, far simpler, a tribute every man had to pay. Age. It was not the first time his body wavered as he had to stand up, nor would it be the last. A shuddering realisation of how fast life flies by. One minute you are a youth with the world at your feet (as you would think at that time), the next - an old man with snow in his hair. However, he was humble enough to know that he was no better than others. His time would come one day, but for now - he just blamed it on the accursed armour.

After the chieftain stood up, he cast a glance at Saila. Not surprisingly, she was busy talking with the other delegates. At the present, Perun recognised the Spirean and the pirate captain about her. Others would follow no doubt, but was he going to be one of them? The destination was clear in his mind, but he had yet to discuss it with his companions. While he was certain that they would not question his judgment, there was no sense in rushing the decision. Instead, he quietly (apart from the clanking) walked out of the room. Following the now familiar way, he left the Library. As he expected, Rilan was near the entrance. Despite telling them otherwise, the men respected their chieftain far too much to allow him to wander about searching for them.

Rilan was a lithe youth, short for an Arbian and not as strong as his peers. What he lacked in physical strength however, he made up for with an uncanny dexterity. Many warriors, both from near and far, had been surprised by the boy's quick feet and even quicker reflexes. It was no wonder that Vitosh had sent him to seek out Perun. The lad approached swiftly and bowed his head, after which he asked.

"How did the Council go, wise one?"

"Not as well as I had hoped." - he smirked slightly - "And not as bad as I had feared. No blood was spilled, at least."

"Your wisdom is great, chieftain."

"Enough with the flattery. We are no longer with the tribe, we are companions now. Equals." - he waved his hand dismissively - "Now, where is Vitosh?"

"We managed to find a suitable inn, chieftain. It bears resemblance to the ones we encountered on this side of the Beli mountains. From what you have told us, we came to the conclusion that other cultures have been mimicked as well. A strange city, if it has no soul of its own, but steals from others."

"Do you not see, Rilan?" - the chief allowed himself a smile - "That is the soul of this city. A melting pot of cultures, religions...ideas. A crossroad where all peoples meet. I once read a poem in this very Library that claimed that all great adventures begin here. From the Center of the Knowledge. I do not know it it is true, but ours starts here, it cannot be denied." - he paused - "Now, let's go find Vitosh."

"Follow me, chieftain."

Deftly, the boy began leading Perun through the city. As they walked further away from the Library, Perun turned to cast one last glance at it. He looked beyond it's splendid domes and marvelous arches, beyond the walls, beyond the books themselves. At the center of it all there was knowledge, but secrets as well. Some buried, never to be unearthed again, others waiting to be discovered. He thought that when he last departed from this place, a journey had begun, not only to a new land, but to a new life. Now, as well, he departed on a long trip...but would it lead to a different life?

"Amazing, is it not? The waters are so clear..." - Rilan interrupted his musings

They were now moving over a bridge, the river below it was indeed unmarred by anything. One could see the pebbles resting below the surface.

"Indeed they are. The river is renowned for its crystal contents, it passes through a long stretch of the elves' country. Sadly, I cannot recall the name the fair folk have given it." - explained Perun

"And here we are." - Rilan said after a few minutes of silence

It was a smaller inn, as compared to some of the grander ones they had passed, but it carried the unmistakable signs of the north. Timber instead of stone, fur pelts here and there, hunting trophies on the walls. It was not Arbian, that much was certain, but it was close enough. Traders would often stop at inns such as this, before attempting to traverse the treacherous Beli Mountains. And they had based some of their architecture on what they had seen in the tribal villages of the reclusive Arbians. Regardless, amidst this sea of queerness, it was a welcome reminder of home. It was no surprise that Vitosh had chosen it.

Vitosh himself was seated by one of the tables, near the hearth. His face lit up as he noticed the two approaching. Naturally, he stood up to salute his chieftain.

"No need for that" - Perun said - "Take a seat, both of you."

Perun nodded at the innkeep before he sat as well. He ordered a mug of ale for each of them and then turned to his kinsmen.

"The Council was...difficult to endure." - he began - "Many plots were at play and I do not understand all of them. In fact, I cannot claim to understand a few. You must realise that these are old cultures, with history."

"So is ours, we are in no way inferior" - claimed Vitosh, who was bold enough to speak against his chieftain. Owed as much to their blood bond, as well the respect others held for him.

"We are. But these others, they have history with each other. Can we say the same for ourselves?"

"We trade with the people from beyond the Great Chasm." - Vitosh was a stubborn one

"So we do, but it has not even been a full generation since their ships began to frequent our shores." - he took a sip, then added - "There are still those alive who know not the Common Tongue."

And it was true. While the Arbians that traded with the people of Valinyx had learned and embraced the language spoken by so many, the Common Tongue, there were those who clung to the old ways. Perun had been one of the first to be actually taught the language from the cradle.

"The northern tribes, they have always been strange ones. You have seen them at the Subors."

"Vitosh, you speak true, but miss the heart of the matter. We are talking of a few generations here, they deal in centuries"

"It is true, wise one, forgive me." - the man bowed his head in defeat

"Come now, as I said, we are going to be on this journey of ours for quite some time. Formalities will not serve us. Vitosh, you are my wife's brother, that makes you my brother. And Rilan, your skill gives you the right to speak to your elders and superiors. Both of you know that well, you would not have come otherwise."

They nodded their heads quietly, for they did indeed know it to be true.

"From the Council I was able to gleam much. I have tried to stay clear of any struggles and machinations, but I believe we are all pawns in some greater game." - he smiled again, a rare thing, especially more than once per day

"Is it not always so?" - asked Rilan, who believed firmly in the Gods

"Regardless, I have completed the goal set before me by the Subor. Through presence and words, I have placed Arbia on the map. They may not take interest in us now, but they will know of our existence."

"And what now, chieftain?" - asked Vitosh, as he was setting down his mug on the table

"Patience, Vitosh. I will explain. It was decided that groups would set out and investigate the missing of certain nations. While others would travel to the lands of those deemed or suspected of being guilty." - he took another sip - "The destination was clear in my mind, but I have now finally decided. We are going to Valinyx. No one else is traveling there, which means we will not be associated with any one group. On the other hand, our own interests lay there. The people of Valinyx have been friends and mentors to us, they are our support in the wider world. We must find out if it is still so."

"Have you been there before, chieftain?" - asked Rilan

"Aye, I have. It was long ago, you were still a child then."

"But it was after you came back, yes?" - he meant after Perun had returned from his exile

"Yes. A year or so later I traveled there to see the land for myself. My travels had never taken me that further north."

"I have heard tales of it" - Vitosh added - "It is a land of wonder, they say, of grand cathedrals and bustling ports. I never thought them to be true...until, I saw this" - he waved about

"We are blind to many things, until we see them for ourselves." - declared Perun thoughtfully

"Chieftain, the way here was long...but the way to Valinyx, from our homeland is just as long. What then is to be said of the way from here to there?" - Rilan asked

"Here and there...pfah, speak plainly." - tossed in Vitosh

"We both understood the lad, Vitosh." - he halted for a second - "I suspect the journey will take us at least a moon's turn, if not more."

"When are we setting out?" - Rilan looked exalted

"Tomorrow. In the mean time, we must prepare." - with that, he signaled to the innkeeper and asked for ink and a quill.

From a pouch of his own, Perun took out a small sheet of paper and hastily scrawled a few words. When he was done, he added in a greeting in the tongue of the elves. He spoke it with difficulty and wrote it with even more pains, but he considered it appropriate. He did not have the chance, nor the time to regard his old acquaintances, so he could at least show a sign of respect in his note. With that out of the way, he signed it and folded it neatly. After which he presented it to Rilan.

"Rilan, take this and deliver it to the Library. Tell one of the elves there that it is for Sailahína, they will lead you to her. Offer the lady my regards and this note, it will inform her of our destination. Is all clear?"

The lad accepted the note, stood up and bowed his head.

"It is, chieftain."

"Did you remember her name?"

"Yes."

"Repeat it."

"Sailah-i..." - he trailed off

"Sailahína. The name is foreign to you, I know, but remember it. I have heard others calling her Saila, but it would be a sign of disrespect for a stranger to address her thus. Use it only if you have no other choice."

"I-I will not forget, chieftain." - to prove it, he repeated her name thrice, properly this time

"Good. Now go, return when you are done or have a look around."

With that Rilan was off, quickly darting out of the inn. Perun then turned towards Vitosh, who was emptying his mug.

"Vitosh, I want you to buy supplies for our horses." - the chieftain finished his own ale - "You are good with numbers, so I am certain these foreign traders will not get the better of you."

"I will strive to, chieftain."

He also stood up and left the inn soon after, leaving Perun alone on the table. His small part of the greater plan, if there was one, had been set in motion. Their journey would begin on the morrow, along with their trials. But he was not quite ready yet, he stood up and headed for the innkeeper. The chieftain rented three rooms for him and his companions, as well as securing dry food that would last them for a few days. When the deal had been struck, he went upstairs into his room. It was finely decorated and furnished, although not in excess. Perun slipped out of his armour, which was beginning to tire him, and lay on the bed.

The first part of his journey was over, the second one was just beginning...

[Guest]

Alys smiled as the High Priestess waved her hand toward the foreigner. "A demonstration will not be necessary. We have a budding revolution on our hands, according to the High Sanguine, and there is no better test of reliability than direct application."
Spoken like the leader she was raised to be, Alys thought. Alys, however, knew Avalandra's own thought's were quite different from the words she spoke. Avalandra was against using brute force against dissenters, as she had always been. It was quite unbecoming of a High Priestess of the Valinyx, a people that had always done precisely what was necessary, no more and no less. But then, the High Preistess wasn't arguing against it either.

"We will make sure there is ample room for the rest of your crews," Avalandra continued. "Feel free to explore the city as much as you desire. There is much history to be found here that may interest you; Valinyx was not founded without its own wars and legendary generals.
"The priestesses will organize a party to go over the manifests and crates, and we will meet again upon their completion to finalize the agreement. As far as potential demonstrations, talk to Alys Rae, our High Sanguine, about our preparations. If your men wish, you can participate in these forays as your own demonstration of good faith. However, we understand if you wish to remain apart from our own politics and internal issues.
"Does Suituria have any further requests of the Order of Vallar, before we depart?"

Always so formal, Alys thought. It annoyed her to no end how far the High Priestess would carry her formality. She would be polite to her sworn enemy on the battlefield. If, of course, she could be persuaded to step onto the battlefield. Either way, she was interested in hearing the Suiturian's response to Avalandra's invitation to battle. It wasn't going to be anything major. They likely wouldn't suffer any casualties at all. This revolution was really nothing more than a rabble of hungry farmers and peasants armed with pitchforks and shovels. They had so far showed no real organization, or even determination. Clearing them out was the first step in preparing the land for Morgarath, and for placing Alys herself as his loyal steward. She wasn't quite sure where the Suiturian's would fit into that scheme, but surely Morgarath would find a way to fit them into his plans. If not, they had brought only a few ships.

Alys studied the young man again. His mouth was rudely hidden behind the collar of his vest, but his eyes were set in detemination of his course. This boy was too young to have the experience of failure, and he would likely purue any course that advanced his gain and power like a dog chasing a meaty bone. On a whim she guessed that he would agree to fighting alongside the Valinyx. It was certainly an opportunity, should he accept. One that she couldn't let pass her by. She gave him a warm, yet hungry smile, one she hoped might lure him toward the prospect of victorious battle, perhaps even the assurances of increased profits on their trade agreements. Something must work on these men, Alys knew, and she would figure it out.

[Spectre]

Direct application was indeed a perfect way. However this rebellion, in Dastan's mind, was a grand one. Maybe some guerrilla tactics from some previous knight order or something, with some highwaymen and maybe thieves and the sort. Those were revolts he was used to. People who had means of arming themselves, and effectively uprising against governments they saw unfit. Revolts where his people had to be called in to deal with. He had never thought of a peasant rebellion, and didn't expect a Temple Order to be concerned of a peasantry uprising. This is why he thought they needed better weapons. Imatari Dastan was never really informed on the answers to the 'Why's of the trade, and only the 'Who's, 'What's, 'When's, and 'Where's.

Giving a polite nod, Dastan replied, "Then by all means, please, enjoy the merchandise." He wasn't surprised they didn't need a demonstration, however he figured as a formality and a gesture of good faith that he offer. The priestess Offered 'her' city's hospitality to them, and both the Knight and Dastan nodded in acknowledgment. Since Dastan could take care of the rest, he turned and looked as his remaining Knight sitting a pew behind him. Giving him a nod, and saying only, "Bring them to shore." The man stood, his white cape tumbling and rippling down from being wadded up beneath him. He marched out the door in haste, though not in a calamity. He would return to the dock to give the other ships a signal to commence with their business.

The High Priestess then again offered for his participation in the quelling of a rebellion. It was true, Suituria had been involved with many foreign affairs, serving as a sort of nation of mercenaries. Not officially mercenaries, the Suiturian military had been brought to temporary alliance with many governments and organizations. At the same rate, the country was paid handsomely for their involvement, and would work for the highest bidder. This gave them a slight reputation for being dishonorable for doing so. However, the Suiturians don't think this way at all. They provide a service for those without the means of protecting themselves, and that is all. Their reputation has also been one of mystery, secrecy, and bringing fear.

"My men are only ordered to protect the shipment." He stood slowly, his long, dark coat bouncing down to his mid calf, "However if it is all the same to you, I wish to oversee the application as a trial process for you." He would insist to oversee the battlefield, what or wherever it may be, rather than place himself there without pay. "I would like to ensure a smooth operation for you in our merchandise." He would then pause, and answer her last question. "No, your hospitality is more than enough for what we would normally request." he paused, then again continued- trying to stick to business, "The last thing we will discuss, and that will be once your people go over the merchandise, is form and amount of payment. I trust the finances have been previously discussed and prepared?" he asked, tilting his head a hair to the right. He had hoped the accounting wouldn't have to be done by him, but the merchant crew that had docked last with the freight. However, if he had to, he would do it.

He then took a look at Alys Rae. She was the one who had lead them to the Cathedral. She would be the one to talk to about providing extra help. Extra help wasn't in Dastan's vernacular, but if there were some benefit he would be more than happy to oblige his sword arm, and his crew's arms, as well. Regardless, if there was money to be made, he would explore the opportunity.

[Guest]

Alys bowed stiffly to the High Priestess and then waved for the foreigner to follow her. She turned swiftly on her heel and made her way back toward the grand doors of the cathedral. She looked back over her shoulder to make sure Dastan was following.

"As the High Priestess said, we do have a rebellion in the southern reaches of Valinyx. Those lands are harsh and unforgiving, particularly in the winter. And the men who live there are reflections of that land. You may be imagining farmers armed with pitchforks, but these are farmers who have weathered many hard winters. They won't give in easily.
"Which is why we have need of your merchandise. It has been many generations now since Valinyx has seen armed conflict. Our weapons our outdated, our smith's inexperienced. We now rely on imported weapons to arm our 'iron fist.' In the same way that our weapons are out-dated, so are our generals. As much as we will pay you for your merchandise, we will pay you for your expertise. The Order of Vallar is funding our trade, but the Ordis Sect will buy your services, should they be available.
"There will be other...opportunities as well. War is brewing beyond the borders of Valinyx, though mere borders will not keep it out. Which is why we need to remain strong. This rebellion must crushed and our southern borders strengthened. We could use you, Dastan Imatari." Alys gave him her most flattering smile, though she expected the perceptive boy would see straight through it. She hadn't lied, even if she had omitted many of the most important details. The war with Morgarath wouldn't find its ways to Valinyx, not if she played her hand right. But Spire was a different matter.

[Spectre]

He followed after her, watching as she looked beyond her shoulder to see if he would come along.

"Farmers with pitchforks?" he asked, confused. "I actually imagined soldiers...." he said, a little disappointed. "However a rebellion is a rebellion, I suppose, and you may need our arms beyond this peasant's rebellion." His arrogance was odd for his figure. To everyone around him he would be but a child. He then smiled, however. He liked the term she used, 'Iron Fist'. "Our services, my lady, are always for hire. Just as long as your farmers haven't employed us, and as far as I know, they couldn't have." he chuckled a bit under his breath. Thinking of the others at the dock, the crew that was commissioned to keep a watch over and protect the shipment if need be, he smiled again. There was a squad of others like him. Young, promising Suiturian Templars. Sages he had fought alongside before, and some would call them 'friends' of his.

They may be useful, and all it would take is for Dastan to go to the ship, and tell them to follow him and it would be so. Dastan was an advanced rank, but even so, his subordinates liked him. Maybe it is due to working alongside them so often, or having grown up with some of them. Maybe it was due to the fact that Dastan's family is just short of legendary in his home country. Regardless of what it was, his direct crew followed him as if they themselves were extensions of his will.

When she mentioned 'other' opportunities, that sent up a bit of a red flag. -What is she getting at.... Does she have a personal stake in this? The council hadn't advised me of this... why does she tell me this now, and not during the meeting?- he thought, though he would spare his typical interrogation techniques in the form of one of his illusions. He could enter her mind, making her think they were still standing there talking, however it would only be a sort of 'dream world', and Dastan would have full control of the environment. Usually there would be pain and anguish involved, however this Sanguine leader didn't yet deserve any of that. She hadn't done anything to him. Regardless, it would only be temporary, and in his dream world, and they both would be standing there still as statues, in a bit of a hypnosis. It would be too obvious here, in sight of the High Priestess as well as the council. Plus, she was a curious one. He would follow her, and see what she had to offer. If anything, his curiosity wouldn't let him 'not' follow her. He liked that, and he liked her. Mostly because she seemed to have something up her sleeve that he was interested in. Something about her smile, he didn't really catch.

"If anything, I can see what we can do if we don't step foot outside these walls, High Sanguine Alys Rae." He would appear interested, however distantly. They continued walking, "Let's hear what you've got in mind..." Dark was the smirk that crept to the right corner of his mouth.

[Blackrock]

Spring, Month 1, Day 1, Near Nolwë Osto

Perun watched silently as the other two men prepared for the ritual. Like all things Arbian, it was simple and not demanding. A couple of pebbles were arranged in a circle and amidst them a twig was set. Vitosh did everything with ease, deftly and quickly, having done such things many times in his life. Rilan, on the other hand, was a strong believer in the Gods and he did everything with the respect and dignity required. This was an old Arbian tradition, dating back to times beyond memory. It was an offering to Sokol, The Watcher of Roads and it was customary to offer him a tribute, something of the land, before departing on a journey. Some offered pelts, teeth and other such, but Rilan had suggested that they give the most beautiful thing they could see. Doubtless, it was the countless trees that surrounded them. The ancient residents of this place were different from the ones in their homeland, but there was a remarkable resemblance. It was nature, untouched and unspoiled, strong and wild, as it has and as it will be.

After a few moments, Rilan was done and he approached Perun.

"Will you do it, Chieftain?" - he asked quietly

"No. You have the honour Rilan, you prepared most of it, after all" - came the soft (as much as possible for a man like Perun) answer.

The other nodded without a word and they all approached the small circle. Vitosh and Perun bowed their heads while Rilan took a step forward and, swiftly, lit the twig. As they watched it burn, they uttered their prayers. The young lad, obviously exalted, lead them.

"Sokol, vigilant and swift, watch my path and may it be straight." - he began, his voice firm - "Watch my companions and may they be healthy. Watch my home and may it be warm. Watch my journey and may it be safe." - a pause followed - "And if death take me, then lead me to the halls of our Lord."

"To the halls where our forefathers dwell." - added Vitosh solemnly.

"To the halls where all are destined to go." - Perun jumped in.

"So let it be." - Rilan finished.

When that was done and the former twig was a pile of ash, they turned to their horses and resumed their journey. The sun would soon reach its zenith in the sky, but the canopy of green about them provided shade and coolness. A couple of hours had now passed since they set out from Nolwë Osto in the morning. They had bought what supplies they could carry from the inn and began their long march north. They had only taken their first steps upon this long, winding road of theirs, but things were not all that grim, Perun assured them. Their steeds were of good breed and they did not tire easily. The elven road that lead through the woods was wide and, mostly, straight - it allowed for a faster pace. Even nature, the greatest force of all, was on their side, for there seemed to be no signs of approaching rain-clouds.

The three companions travelled side by side, with Perun in the middle and the other two flanking him. The "procession", which they had put up for show when they arrived was no longer needed. As such, they spoke freely and Rilan did not need to hold up the tribe's banner. A relief - it was not heavy for him, but after a few hours one's arm began to tire. Their saddle bags were laden with supplies, as well as items of other nature. Their shields were hung by the saddle, as well as an odd axe or two. The furs which they brought from home were neatly packed. They could have sold them for a hefty sum, they were of pristine quality, but Perun suspected that they would put them to use as they journeyed north.

They met others along the road, travellers from near and far. Some were local elves from the woods surrounding them, they had little to say and went about their business with a nod or two. Others, foreigners - some merchants; some scholars - would often ask about this or that. Was there much left to the Great Library, were there many potential customers to be found and many, many others topics of daily life. It made for a refreshing break, after all, these three had known each other for a long time. Bound by social status and tradition, the two younger men could not fully open up to the chieftain. Not yet, at least.

Vitosh, after passing by another group of travellers, pointed out that they had yet to see anyone travelling north. They had met a few elves journeying in the same direction, but they often took the smaller paths that lead into the forest, none of them went far. Perun did not pay much heed to that, perhaps they would meet such people later. Or, as Rilan noted, the three of them went faster than a merchant caravan could, for example. It made no matter to them, in truth, they merely killed the long hours of travel ahead with such talk.

The sun had began its slow descent westward, but Perun decided to carry on. They were not feeling tired and the horses were holding up well enough, they simply slowed the pace a bit. The forest air was clean and refreshing, with the scent of dirt and dew and leaf mixed in. An unfamiliar aroma for the Arbians. For while they had the same forests in their homeland, their smells were often mixed with the biting cold, that pricked the nostrils like a needle. As such, their moods were high and the time seemed to fly by. Despite being inexperienced riders, Vitosh and Rilan had gotten used to the saddle during their journey from Arbia. Either that, or they had stopped complaining at least.

The rest of the day was uneventful. The number of travellers they met decreased as the day went on, but the lush greenery surrounding them remained unchanged. Slowly, night crept in, bringing with it a whole new entourage of smells and sounds. The air got chillier and a cool wind, carrying with it the memory of winter, was blowing from the north. Far off, from the deep reaches of the forests howling was heard. It resembled that of wolves - but in a strange, unfamiliar land, who could know?

When the first stars were seen in the darkening sky, Perun decided to stop. They found a suitable clearing not far from the road. Perun saw to the horses, tying them by some trees and giving them oats to eat. Rilan was sent to fetch kindling and Vitosh set about preparing supper. They finished with their preparations quickly and had a fire going in a few minutes, the supper followed soon after. A soup, hot and nutritious - the perfect meal for any man born amidst the Arbian snows.

Wrapped tightly in his cloak, the chieftain gazed into the dancing flames before him. They reminded him of home, of the hearth in Fanrin's Hall. So far from here and yet...within reach. On their journey they would pass by the Beli Mountains, leaving them to the south and east. It only took a thought, a single word from him and they would change their course. From there, it was a matter of days before they traversed the mountains and returned home. What business had he, a simple man, in things far greater than him? He had a wife and son, a tribe...he could live out his days in relative peace and comfort. Already songs about him were being sung by the bards, he had left his mark in Arbian history. And while he would become a footnote, even less, in the chronicles of the wider world, he was content. He had a family, respect, a reasonable amount of power...what more could a man want?

And yet, if that was so, what, by the gods, was he doing here?

His chain of thought was interrupted by a sound coming from behind. All three of them heard it. They were skilled hunters and their senses were keen. Swiftly, a figure emerged from the treeline. Perun reached for his sword, so did Vitosh; Rilan was already on his feet with a brandished axe.

"Peace friends, I have no ill thoughts."

The stranger was a tall man...no, an elf. The darkness made his features hard to discern, but Perun thought that he saw a smile on his face. With a curt nod, the chieftain had the other two sheathe their weapons. He did the same.

"I apologise, but we are strangers in this land and must be wary." - he said

"It is understandable" - came the reply

"Come, join us by the fire. We have food and drink."

When the elf approached the fire, the Arbians had a better chance to study him. His face was unmarred by age or toils, his skin was fair, much like that of his hosts. The leaf-shaped ears marked him as one of the inhabitants of these lands, while his pleasant smile gave him a likable demeanor. His jet-black eyes revealed wisdom that did not match the youthfulness of his face. His golden hair, slightly lighter than that of Vitosh and Rilan, was tied in a pony-tail. The elf gracefully sat down and warmed his hands by the fire. After that he smiled, revealing a row of white teeth, and told them:

"My name is Arandur. Might I know yours?"

"I am Perun" - the chieftain began - "The man sitting opposite of you is Vitosh and the lad next to you is Rilan."

"Strange names." - he added with a nod - "You are not from here, that much is certain."

"No. We come from a land to the north, beyond the mountains."

"What is the name of this land?"

"Arbia."

"Arbia...Arbians...no, I am saddened to say that I have not heard of your people before. But then again, I rarely leave my liege's lands."

"My people have seldom set foot outside their homeland. We are one of the few."

"So you are. And what brings you to our lands?

"We traveled to your Great Library, to a council held there. But now it is over and we are headed north once more."

The elf nodded silently, showing his desire not the meddle in the affairs of others.

"Arbians value hospitality above all else" - Perun said - "...and while the circumstances here are not great, I humbly offer you a place by our fire."

"I gladly accept, Perun of Arbia." - the elf said with a smile.

They gave him soup and poured him a cup of wine they had bough from Nolwë Osto. Like all things in this land, Rilan had declared, it was delicate and light. Certainly not a drink the Arbains were accustomed to. But tonight they shared and drank from it gladly.

Arandur told them of himself. He was a member of the King's court and was considered young by his race, although he never stated his age. What he knew of the Common Tongue he had learned by dealing with foreign merchants over the years. The traders oft visited the lands of King Anarton, for the jewels of Inga were widely regarded. He had been sent to deliver a message to one of the other clans living in the forest and was now making his way home. Arandur, Perun noted to himself, was unlike many other of his race. For he seemed eager to talk of the ways of his people to complete strangers, something which the reclusive Quendi rarely did.

In return, Perun told him of Arbia. Of his tribe, the Traki, of the forests and snows, of the beasts and hunters. He shared who he was and what position he assumed in his tribe, what Vitosh and Rilan did and what they were known for. And, finally, the chieftain recounted what had happened at the Council and where they were now headed. That is how their supper passed, talking amongst themselves, sharing knowledge of their cultures.

"My father often tells me" - Arandur said at one point - "that to best grasp another culture, one must hear their tales. Do you wish to hear one of ours?"

"Gladly, Arandur. Then I will share one of ours" - Perun stated.

"So be it." - the elf said, after which he pointed at the sky - "Do you see the star there, that shines brighter than the others?"

His finger was pointed at one of the tiny dots located directly above them. Perun had oft glanced at the night sky, but he could swear that this star he had not seen before.

"Yes, I see it." - Rilan said - "But it has never attracted my attention before."

"It is no surprise." - Arandur told them - "According to the stories it can only be seen from these woods. Now listen...

That which you see is called Elendim's Star. The stories tell us that once, in these lands, lived Elendim, a jeweller of great skill. It is said that his hands were so deft and skillful that they fashioned items that even the Gods marveled at. That even a mere pebble, a rough stone found in the forest, could be turned into a magnificent object, worthy of a King's court, if touched by Elendim. But he came from a humble family and as his fame grew, his pride did not. The master craftsman remained in his simple home where he toiled on his precious stones for many long years.

Oft, he would be visited by the great of the land, from near and far, and he would craft for them. Never was one not content with what Elendim had fashioned for, truly, his hands were touched by the divine. And so he continued, until one day, a stranger arrived. The man did not ask for anything, but instead uttered these words:

"How great is our folly, oh noble Elendim, of us mortal creatures. For even you, the greatest of our craftsmen, cannot hope to match the beauty that the tiniest of objects, wrought by the Gods, possess."

And in that moment, the stranger pointed at the night sky, brightly illuminated by the tiny, perfect stars. He departed without another word. Elendim was not haughty, but he took those words to heart. And in that moment, he vowed that he would find a jewel and make it shine as brightly, as clearly as the stars in the sky. His labours spanned long years and centuries, but never was Elendim content. No gem he fashioned, no ring or necklace, could match the beauty of the stars.

He, who had never known pride, became bitter for it seemed that the words uttered so long ago were true. Even he, Elendim, could not hope to match the tiniest of the Gods' creations. And in his arrogance, he committed his greatest folly. The master craftsman declared that he would travel to the stars themselves. To study them; to understand them; and, finally, to capture their glorious light. He fashioned a ship, not of wood, but of gold and silver and gems. And for sails, he had the finest threads spun.

When all was ready, Elendim departed. His ship sailed true, braving the currents of the cold, dark sky. And, it is said, that he reached the stars one day, after many years of travelling. But some things are not meant for us to understand and, try as he might, Elendim could never comprehend how the stars shined thus. For countless years and centuries and millennia he has tried, sailing from star to star, but he can never know the secret.

To this day, my people believe, Elendim's Folly continues. And the star that I showed you is none other than his ship. It is said that the Gods gifted him with immortality, so he can forever continue with his foolish quest. A reminder to all others of what arrogance can lead to.

This is my story. A story of ambition, of a desire for perfection, a perfection we can never achieve."

Rilan and Vitosh were obviously moved, as they nodded their heads in agreement and muttered words of praise.

"How wise your people are, Arandur, to realise the irony of their own existence" - Vitosh said

"It is a good tale" - Perun added - "Now hear mine."

"The bards tell us of a famed hunter, who once walked the earth. His sight was keener than an eagle's, his footing knew no doubt, and his arrows never missed. At the edge of a forest he lived, with his wife and sons, with his clan. And he would often hunt in that forest, bringing skins and food, tusks and horns. They say that no beast lived that he had not slain. Wolf and bear and fox and boar, he had trophies of all in his hall.

One day, news came to him of a mighty beast that had made its home in the nearby woods. The hunter wasted no time in preparing himself and, before the sun had risen again, he set out to slay it. Before he departed, however, he made an offering to Strela, who is the patron of hunters. The offering was simple, an arrow made by his hand. When that was done, he was ready to go. All went well until he entered the forest. On the ground, at his feet, he found the same arrow that had been offered. An ill omen, the offering was returned. It meant it was not a good day to hunt.

The hunter respected the Gods, but like any man, he had a will of his own. He did not heed the warning and went on. It was winter and he easily found the tracks of some large beast. The hunter followed them for a time, but he soon received another warning. An old tree fell as he drew near, blocking his path. And again the hunter remained unrelenting, he went on. Finally, the beast's lair was near, the signs were all around him. And as he was nocking an arrow and silently approaching, another warning was received.

A raven, black as night, perched on his shoulder. To his surprise, the bird spoke:

"Great hunter, I bring a message from the Master of the Woods." - the hunter knew that this meant Strela - "Two warnings have been given, two warnings have not been heeded. A third and final one I shall give to my favourite."

"Turn back now or great evil shall befall you."

With that, the raven flew off, disappearing in the winter sky. The hunter halted for a moment, giving thought on the matter, but yielding was not in his nature. He went on. The beast was a fearsome wolf, white and spotless like the fist snow. The hunter marveled at the creature's savage beauty and then slew it. With the wolf's body slung over his shoulder, he took the path back to his village.

Upon arriving, however, he found only ruin. A neighbouring clan had attacked his tribe while he was away, slaughtering everyone in the process. House, kin, friends - all had been taken from him. The hunter approached the burnt-down remains of his hall and threw the carcass before the former door. He looked about. Taking in the scene of carnage - the blood-stained snow; the white trees in the distance; the cold, dark sky. He looked at the world about him for a long time and then he laughed.

He laughed and spat. He gathered the bodies and burned them on a pillar made from what remained of the village. Brandishing an axe, he returned to the forest and began chopping down trees for the remainder of the night. He slept briefly and when he awoke on the morning, he brought them back to the site of his old home. He looked up at the heavens. And he spat once more.

With that done, the hunter began rebuilding his hall."

After that, Perun fell into silence. Judging by Arandur's curious look, the elf expected the story to continue.

"Is that all?" - he asked after a time.

"That is all, friend. They say that, in time, people were drawn by the hunter's fame. He rebuilt home and tribe and even married again. His descendants rule from his hall to this day." - Perun paused for a second, then continued - "There is no profound meaning behind this story. No great truth. A simple principle is at its heart. We Arbians never back down. We never kneel or relent. And when destiny spits in our face and throws us to the ground, we get up. Again and again, until we stand or fall down dead."

The chieftain cleared his throat. "That is my story."

"I see...your people are much different than mine." - Arandur said - "I will need to think on this to fully grasp it. I admit, that I have not often crossed paths with other cultures and my views are limited to what I know."

"It is true for all of us" - Perun noted with a smile.

"You are wise, Perun of Arbia. I can see why your people look up to you as a leader." - the elf said - "I would like to present you with a gift."

He reached for one of his pockets and took out a simple-looking, polished, silver ring.

"I have come to understand that your people value simple, practical things. Flaunting has no room in your snow-covered lands. And while this ring will not help you in your travels, it bears the mark of my House. If you ever find yourselves in these woods again, you may be certain that a warm welcome will await you."

Without further ado, he handed the ring to Perun, who bowed his head as he accepted it.

"I thank you for this gift, Arandur. I will treasure it and pass it on to my children when I die."

"Do not take it for much" - the other said with a soft smile - "I made it a long time ago, at the time when I reached my adulthood."

"A gift always means much."

Vitosh had something to give as well. A small wood figurine, which he had worked on during their journeys. It was made from Arbian wood, which while similar, was different from the one here. It depicted an eagle in flight, which was Sokol, the Watcher. The elf accepted it gladly and offered gifts in return. Vitosh received a small, sharp-looking knife. Arandur assured him that it would serve as an extension of his fingers while carving wood. Rilan was given a silver chain, made from intricately joined loops. It could come in handy some day, the elf said.

After the exchange was over, the conversation slowly died down. Not long after, the four of them lied down and went to sleep. No sentry was placed, for the night was calm and the woods were quiet. And indeed, they awoke on the following morning, with nothing having disturbed their sleep. They broke their fast and went their separate ways, bidding each other a warm farewell. Both parties went away with one more story in their repertory.

[Gadreille]

There was a glitter in Alys' eye. "My thoughts involve a bit of simplistic scare tactics." Alys led him through the streets of Valinyx, in such a zig zagging pattern any but she would be hopelessly lost. She then stopped outside an older, dusty, two story house that had an old wooden sign in the yard that was hardly legible: Cartographer.

"If the Order of Valar or the Ordis Sect were to go and attack our own people, it would be considered an act of civil war. However, if an outside force were to, say, take advantage of the south during a time of strife...well, I could say it was the will of Ordis, begging them through violence to cease their rebellious activity." Alys' voice had a tone of sarcasm to it, especially emphasized on the word begging.

"And that's where you come in. I give you, upon your agreement, free reign to take what you will from the southern lands." She thrust a thrumb toward the cartographer's house. "There is a map waiting for you, which marks the boundaries that you are free to abuse. Just make the deaths count. I want to frighten them into subserviency, not decimate them into resolve."

[Spectre]

Simplistic scare tactics...

It didn't show, but the right corner of Dastan's lips curled ever so softly upward in a bit of a vicious smirk. It was hidden behind his collar, but his eyes would narrow with interest, and thought. Music to his ears. But it all seemed too blatant to him.

"If anyone had caught word of our arrival, would they not know it was us, visitors to Valinyx?" he asked her. He then shook his head, realizing the reasons weren't his to question, nor to care about. He now had a bit of a side job to do. This side job was something he had done several times before. "I suppose from here it matters not, considering my group of Sages do not fly banners of my country." Their Suiturian ships sailing with large white sails with their country's flag smack dab in the middle. Hard to miss. "I'd be obliged to assist your sect." he said, nodding his head in a sort of 'bow', and opening his arms a bit in a welcoming manner to this task. Then, looking to the sign, then the door, and back to Alys,

"I'll take a look at the maps, put together a team, and start working immediately. I'll let my financial head know that we have taken opportune employment in this." he nods, reaching out to the door to press it open after turning the handle. "It'll be a pleasure doing business." he said as he pressed the door open and took a step into the doorway.

Stepping inside, his light cloth and rubber 'boots' tapped on the wood flooring. There were many book-cases and shelves lining the interior, obviously containing maps, globes, and other sorts of information and things of the sort. Walking to the front counter, he looked to the attendant. In response, the attendant nodded feverishly before turning around, and reaching down beneath his counter. Standing patiently now inches from the counter, Dastan heard him rustle through paper. Only a few seconds later then man re-surfaced from behind the counter holding most obviously a map. Looking from the man's eyes to the paper, he saw some markings written and outlining the boundaries of his new mission area.

"This is it." was all the man spoke. It was a strong voice, however hinted a bit of hesitation and anxiety. Dastan's only reaction was a nod, and he picked it up off the counter-top, rolled it up tightly, and slid it up his coat's wide sleeve. Turning slowly on the balls of his feet, he headed back for the door. His steps were swift, and rapped lightly on the wooden floor, until he pulled open the door, and stepped back outside to hopefully see the lady to be escorted back to the docks... He could easily scale the side of a building to get his bearings and look for the seaside, however if she were there to re-guide him, it would be that much less effort he had to exert. The door creaked as it re-opened, and the light caught Dastan's eyes again....

[Gadreille]

The boy caught on quick, Alys noted with relief. He understood the full potential of the agreement, as well as some of the...consequences that might come of them. However, Alys was sure that her plan would work. The faster he roped the south into subjugation, the faster she could get Spire to crawl into her little trap. She needed to report her slight change of plans to her superiors...and by superiors, she did not mean the High Priestess of Vallar.

She scoffed at the thought of having to be her little pawn. For years Ordis was regarded as the supportive brother. So who, throughout the years, did all of the dirty work while the Order of Vallar sat around on their pedestals? Ordis sect, of course. She wasn't doing anything wrong. She was just doing what no one else in Ordis had ever dared to do before.

Claim their right to power!

And who else could help her attain this power than the dark lord Morgarath himself, who was undoubtedly the most powerful being of Emoria? Just a sliver of the world is what he promised her, and just a sliver is what she wanted. Valinyx and Spire would be hers…and then? Who knows what else she could attain.

Alys wanted to leave Dastan and return to the cathedral, but it would be a sign of good faith to await his return, and Alys could play the devoted one with ease. So she waited as if there were no one else in the world who could possibly need her attention, nothing better to be done with her time. She was patient. It wouldn’t be long before others would be waiting upon her.

It was only minutes later that he reemerged from the cartographer’s. “Lord Imatari,” Alys said, her hands clasped together in front of her, giving the illusion of a priestess in prayer. “I trust you got what you needed?” She asked.

He nodded, and she smiled.

"Well then, I must lead you back to your ship!"

[Spectre]

He followed her back to the dock. Passing through a few people scattered, going about their business, Dastan was left to his business. He was walking back to his caravel, pacing across the long, wide port as he arrived at the slender, smaller ship. The suiturians were known for many things, and ship-making was among the top three. Their caravels were feared by many due to their speed and maneuverability, not to mention their deadly Templar cargo. The sailors themselves were regular Navy seamen, good at what they did, and they also carried at least one Templar, with a cohort of around four to five Knights, or men at arms.

There it was, the large white sail with the seal of their Golden sword, with two green dragons climbing, and spiraling around it. The smaller version of which was on the chest of the two Knights standing at the plank. Upon seeing Dastan's arrival they both saluted simultaneously as he passed, then once he was aboard the ship, they resumed their post. Walking with a purpose, Dastan climbed a narrow, steep set of stairs to the captain's quarters. Opening the door with a light hinge click, he made his way to the Captain's desk, of which the Captain himself was standing clear behind, back turned, looking out the window.

"Ah, Lord Imatari. Glad to have you back on the ship." The mustachioed man said, turning on the balls of his feet. He was an elegant looking man, wearing very fine military attire. However at the same time he looked lazy. His hair tousled, jacket slightly wrinkled and twisted, collared shirt partially unbuttoned and his tie was pulled at the neck. Not being on what this captain would consider 'serious business', he obviously didn't care to be here, and Dastan loathed that. Though barely before the Captain was able to finish his sentence, Dastan nearly cut him off. His almost monotone voice cut through his last word like a sword.

"Captain, we have new orders. It seems the Order desires our... help." He only paused for a brief moment to see the Captains face change from bored and tired to excited and eager. "Go to the other caravels, summon Sion, Nariya, Kesta, and Sorze. I want them here as soon as possible." He nods to the captain, as the captain himself gives a polite nod, exiting the room with haste. It may take a few minutes, but Dastan didn't mind. He pulled the map from his cloak and pressed it out on a large table on the side of the room, awaiting for his comrades to board his ship and enter the quarters. Looking at the map of the city, he was pleased to see it's simplicity and effectiveness. Already planning out raids and ambushes, Dastan placed a hand to his chin and thought briefly on a general plan of action...

[Gadreille]

Alys waved goodbye to the Sage Lord, but he was not on her mind. She was proud of how she took a potentially volatile situation and turned it into something she could actually use. At first she feared that the sage would be meddlesome and distracting from her overall plans, but they fell into place almost perfectly. Almost. As she watched the sailors going about their business, she couldn't help but feel a sense of something missing. An opportunity further than what she had already garniered from them. The thought remained in her mind all of the way back to the Cathedral. Ordis had grand plans, she knew. They just hadn't been revealed to her yet. She would be patient. She would bide her time.

She needed to check on her other guest. She took the stairs down to the bottom levels of the Cathedral. Since many historical documents were housed there, it was completely normal for her to be digging in the deep levels of the Cathedral. No one but her most trusted servants knew where she was actually going. Beyond the normal dungeon was a trick wall, where lay the only room in the entire Cathedral that High Priestess of Valar didn't know about.

The room's original purpose was unknown, even to she. But somewhere in the history of her people, someone from Ordis Sect found it, and transformed it. It was a beautiful office dedicated to Ordis as not the secondary deity, but the primary. Here those of Ordis who felt angry and subdued could find solace. Here they could dream of being primary in power.
And soon, Alys would make that dream a reality.

Here also was her guest. The man of Spire, tied on the floor, unconscious and dreadfully pitiful...albeit alive. Here was her next problem. She needed a blood sacrifice. Originally, he was going to be her sacrifice. He was a man of great status, and the miracle his blood could wrought would be significant. But she could not find a way to explain his death without blatantly weakening Ordis' defense. If anyone were to suspect her or others of Ordis for this crime, all of her hard work would be for naught.

...blood sacrifice...hold of the Sage lords...blame on the civil riots...what miracle? These ideas bounced around her head, a mathematical equation with out yet a known solution. The solution that was missing: what miracle? Nothing but a thousand Spirean lords could bring about what she truly wanted. How could she use his blood to bring about the chaos needed for her to rightfully claim Ordis, and therefore she, as the primary leaders of their land? She sat in the office, querying for hours.

Suddenly the Spirean opened his eyes. And Alys smiled. The Sage Lords do not know what they have sailed into.

It was most obvious. Seven primary Sage characters could bring a miracle far greater than one old Spirean...he was not to be the sacrifice, but the tool of her miracle. She would sacrifice the Sage and bring the miracle onto the Spirean. He would believe that the started the civil unrest, that he murdered the Sage as they tried to bring peace to Valinyx...perhaps she could throw in an Ordis priestess, it would be worth the cause. With that much blood, the miracle could last indefinitely. Then the Sage would want to attack Spire, and Valinyx could sit on the sidelines as the chaos grew. Ordis would tell her when the time has come.

[Gadreille]

DAY unknown

The lands outside of Taure Arda were unkempt and dangerous. Perun and company had travelled for many days without trouble, making excellent time for their return home to Arbia. They had come by few travellers, beside Arandur, the elf of the Ingan forest. Leaving the forest was difficult for all of them. The safety of it was not just in the trees but the people who inhabited it. Out on the plains, there were no people to govern the land. It was empty, and unforgiving. Perun had passed this same way just weeks ago, when he and his people were heading toward the council. Perhaps it was the state of mind that they were going to do good, or make change. Perhaps the enlightenment of how dark times had become had changed the men's perspective. Whatever the reason, the plains themselves had changed. There was a dark silence, a silence with no source but in the fear of a man's heart. Perhaps it was the foreshadowing of days to come, or perhaps a darkness had taken root in the empty plains. Whatever the cause, Perun felt no surprise when, in the dead of night, by light of dying embers, sacks were thrown over his and his comrades heads, and he saw only darkness.

[Gabe]

Nowle Osto

As the council ended, Nilus quickly exited the room without a word, with Naomi close behind. Over the past several hours, his mind had completely closed to the idea of working with more than a few countries at a time. This crisis certainly wouldn't solve itself, but certain inhibitions, doubts, or simple lack of trust would surely stop Emoria from standing as one.

The realization was bitter to the young Ayren, who had grown up listening to tales of how Idona came together in times of great need, regardless of how disjointed or turbulent her culture had become. The last time was a mere 300 years ago during the war with Traemador, who would have surely caused the complete eradication of the Ayre had they not banded together as one.

The two young warriors abruptly stepped from the library's main entrance. Nilus looked at the makeshift half cape Naomi had fashioned for him and quickly pulled it from his armor and stuffed it halfway into his belt. The gesture would have been more obvious in Ayren company, but the passerby in the great city's streets didn't give the Ayren a second glance.

A few moments later, the pair arrived at the inn they had reserved for the night. Without a word, Nilus paid the keeper half of their fee and returned to their room. He hurriedly packed the provisions they had brought, and slung his scythe across his back. Naomi began to protest, but was quickly reprimanded.

"We arrived just this morning, can we not..."

"No." Nilus interrupted. "We will make camp at the sun's last light. We must return to Idona immediately and report our findings. Arrington needs to know that Idona can't count on Emoria as a whole working together."

"My father...is gone forever, isn't he?" Naomi said solemnly. "None of those people will be found; that's what you're saying isn't it?" While Ayrens normally switched families during their upbringing, it wasn't uncommon to see them returning home to their birth parents before setting out on a campaign across Emoria. Contrary to popular belief, they were loving people, despite their seemingly mechanical devotion to their trade.

"Someone plans to start a war, and these nations are playing right into his hands. I don't know what measured response was expected, but expect battlefields to spring up more often than they already do. I'm sorry about Tratant, but we have to think of Idona first."

With that, the two made their way to the stables at the edge of the city and retrieved their horses. Back towards the library, a small fight between a few of the delegates had already broken out. Nilus couldn't tell which ones exactly, other than the Sorceress; her lavender robes stuck out against the white and green of the city. It wasn't unexpected, and Nilus stood nothing to gain by interfering. The two Ayrens mounted their horses and set out for the road.

---

---

3 days later
Sunset, North-East Trade Route

The Ayrens were making good time. Their large war horses were used to the grueling pace of nearly 50 miles a day, and benefited from being able to graze on a variety of grasses without foundering or getting colic. Wedged underneath their saddles was a parchment pouch with strips of raw meat inside. The hours of pressure, subtle shifting movements, and body heat from the horse cured the meat into an edible and nutritious trail snack after a day of riding. As they neared the end of the day's journey, Naomi fished out a small strip of the browned 'horse jerky' and bit into it. It was hardly savory, but keeping such a high pace required a lot of calories for the rider and horse alike.

As the sun made its inevitable approach to the horizon through the trees, Nilus signaled for Naomi to stop. A nearby clearing provided a perfect place to rest for the night. The outskirts of Taure Arda were lush and quiet, a stark contrast to the arid and dirty country of Idona. All manner of nocturnal insects chirped serenely, and the trees whispered quietly as a soft breeze passed through their branches. Nilus reflected on the thought of surroundings affecting a person's temperament, remembering how calm and collected the elven host was even during the nearly violent moments of the council. As he did, he doffed the saddles and traveling gear from the horses while Naomi set up a camp fire.

"I want to live here one day, I think." Naomi said, striking the fire with a mixture of blasting powder and sawdust. "There's so much out there that we don't get to appreciate when we come on business or a warfare contract."

"An excellent point." Nilus replied. He tied a net hammock as he spoke, "Scholars are few and far between with our people. That grand library could stand to gain a bit more knowledge about our people. You could certainly share your knowledge as you learned more about this continent."

Naomi smiled at the thought. Establishing a library that contained more than military history and training manuals would be a first in Idona, as most armies learned either through experience or adopting veteran members from other armies. Nilus kept watch as she dozed off to sleep an hour later with the thoughts of a bright future still in her head.

---

---

Idona Capital City
Early afternoon, 13 Days later

Nilus marched out of the Action Reporting office and into the dusty streets of Idona. The militant town was arid, windy, and loud. Buildings of solid stone and mortar construction sprawled out for a few miles, connected by unorganized streets in the outskirts and more planned development at the center. Furnaces burned, delivery carts bustled their way to the armories, and training drums beat in the distance. Nilus' army was currently on standby at one of the many guild houses in the city. It wasn't uncommon for 10 or more armies to share one such guild, paying the rent in rotation as they spent their down time recovering from a long campaign or refitting themselves for a new contract.

Having filed his report on the Nowle Osto council, Nilus decided to go back to the routine life of the common mercenary. King Arrington would eventually be briefed on the events, and maybe utilize Nilus again someday, but it didn't matter much. Like many Ayrens, Nilus thought of himself more as an instrument of someone's will rather than some hero like a Spiran, or Knight of Vatienne, or even an esteemed Silencer from Kvatch. Ayrens served the mighty currency until the last possible minute, only saving Idona when extinction was a probability.

The guild Nilus' army occupied was near the edge of the city, at an outpost named after Arrington II's father, Arrington of Artyrdane. OP Artyrdane was robust, even for an installation of its age. The contracting office and armory shared the same central building, with the guild barracks situated around the perimeter. Strangely enough, another contract was already waiting for him. This was unusual, as many of the armies that occupied this barracks had the same capabilities, and potential contracts were posted on communicably available boards across the city.

"Ah, Nilus! A woman from Valinyx is waiting for you across the way there," the groundsmaster said, pointing out the window. "She looks pretty important, best to not keep her waiting eh?"

Nilus nodded in appreciation as he contemplated his recent streak of popularity among higher profile contractees. He stepped out of the contracting building and made his way across the outpost's grounds. His mark was standing at the very edge of the premises, holding a sealed letter. She was young, attractive, and almost certainly involved with some sort of government official. She wore warm beige colored robes, simple yet expensive jewelry, and wore her hair in a somewhat regal style. She had almost certainly come with company, possibly an armed escort, considering her small frame and choice of clothing. Nilus couldn't detect a bit of armor on the girl.

As he approached, he stood exactly one pace away. Unsure of the formalities of Valinyx, he simply offered his hand, palm facing up as he bowed ever so slightly at the waist. Ayrens treated men and women equally, but generally understood that many cultures treated women as the 'fairer sex', so they should be greeted slightly more politely than a man. In the past, Nilus had mostly success with this greeting, clasping the other person's hand between both of his own in a firm grip. He couldn't remember who taught him this unusual formality, and it continued to escape him the idea of why complete strangers would hold hands on a first meeting. Regardless, the gesture was already made.

"Captain Nilus of Izic. Pleased to meet you, Miss...?"

[Gadreille]

DAY 1

Alys had a plan, she only had to execute it. She sat at the ornate desk which was in her private chamber, and began to plot.

She wanted the Sage to quelch the rebellion. She needed to give them time to do so. In the mean time, those rebelling would come crawling to the cathedral begging for acceptance. The work would be done for her. Then, she needed to murder the sage lords...she already had eyes and ears reporting to her on the matter, so she could decide which seven would be the ones to go. But she rarely let blood on her hands, so she needed someone to do it for her. None of the flimsy priestesses beneath her. Someone who would work for her, no questions...someone who would break no oath. A mercenary.

The mercenaries of Idona were perfect. She had never held a contract with them but knew about them well. If should could recruit one, or a few, to kill the Sage Lords for her...then she could commit the miracle and set the Spirean loose. He would be the true key, and would be dead long before the miracle wore off. Then The Sage would attack Spire, hopefully, and the deed would be done. Morgarath promised her Ordis reign in exchange for destroying Spire. She would have it done without blood under her nails. It was a beautiful plan. She set to writing the letter.

There was but one letter, stating clearly that she wished to contract a mercenary for multiple targets to be disclosed at his discreet arrival to a rural location. The letter would arrive in a fortnight or so, and then it would take the mercenary just as long to return. Plenty of time for the Sage to do what she had asked. When the letter was finished, it was given to her most trusted courier, a woman who was recently bestowed much wealth and who had attained it by less than proper ways. Alys knew her secret, and so the woman would always do her bidding. She trusted her as much as she trusted a sage lord, that is to say, not at all. But the woman's life of luxury would soon be over at the slip of Alys' tongue, and she knew it. There was no such thing as trust. There was only blackmail.

[Gabe]

OP Artyrdane common area

"Annikhol Gelere," was the response. She placed her small hand daintily in Nilus' gloved hand. Her voice was more mature sounding than Nilus expected, and her accent was also unfamiliar. With her free hand, she presented the sealed letter.

"The details are inside. I will be waiting here for you when you are ready to leave." she said with no small amount of certainty.

"We'll see about that, Miss Gelere. Our contracting processes are unique. It's not as simple as you think. If I decide to accept, then we can talk." Nilus replied sternly. The woman had a small amount of stuck up confidence about her that the young captain didn't like.

"Of course, captain." she replied, with no change to her demeanor. She wasn't fazed at all by Nilus' attitude. "I will wait for you until this time tomorrow. If we aren't on the road by then, I will find another." she paused for a moment, and gestured at the letter, still sealed. "You won't find a better contract from Valinyx though. A young captain like yourself would do well to at least consider it. My confidence in my employer is immense."

Her words sounded genuine. This woman had indeed traveled a great distance to find him. The fact that he was specifically addressed was unusual, but not impossible considering the high profile of his most recent contract in Nowle Osto.

"Good day Miss Gelere. I will gather my things and meet you here tomorrow morning."

Coincidence or not, Nilus retired to the guild hall to consult his lieutenants. Something about that woman was unusual.

---

OP Artyrdane guild hall common room-Sundown

Nilus had read over the document ten times in the last hour. It was unusual to hire Ayrens when only one was needed. Then again, the king himself had originally intended to send Nilus to Nowle Osto by himself. This was delicate work indeed. The term 'multiple targets' screamed 'assassinations', something Nilus was only somewhat skilled in. He didn't like the general lack of details.

"If it were me, I'd stay away, cap'n." lieutenant Delan commented. "Those people up north practice strange magic. Never seen it first hand, but the Drenata showed us what dealing with magic leads to. I bet they're every bit as corrupt, just with a prettier face."

Nilus silently scoffed at the statement. It was that kind of bigotry that would ensure a forever-divided Emoria. Nilus' respect for his lieutenant kept him from making a reprimand. He was much older and much more experienced than Nilus. While he wasn't subtle in his Ayren 'nationalism', he always had some sort of valid input.

"It's too unusual...and coincidental to pass up, Delan. This Alys Rae specifically addressed me. Regardless of how this contract plays out, I have some questions for her; especially considering that Valinyx was absent at the council meeting. For all we know, this could be a good thing for Idona as a whole." Nilus paced back and forth as he spoke. He wasn't a strong believer in coincidences, and it wasn't likely that the person who made the contract was going to go through all the trouble just to get declined.

"Look Nilus," another lieutenant began, "The only thing this contract has going for it is the Right of Subjection. I agree with Delan on everything else...but how about a compromise?"

"I'm listening." was all Nilus said. While he appreciated his subordinate's concern, curiosity had already gotten the better of him. He was going to Valinyx no matter what.

"After you set out, let Delan here lead a platoon to shadow you and that Valinyx messenger. Hell, half a platoon. They can follow you on the roads north of Arbia and travel by night. Once you get into the Valinyx borders though..." he trailed off.

"There'd be no way to find me without compromising your purpose." Nilus completed the sentence for him. He smirked as a deceptive plan formed in his mind. "It won't matter. I'll find them." He turned on his heels and stopped pacing. "As soon as they arrive, they can simply cause a disturbance. Nothing drastic of course, just enough to gain some attention. I'll almost undoubtedly catch word of it through Miss Rae, and play it off as if they're chasing me. By the time they arrive, I'll have likely finished the contract. If this truly is some sort of trick, I can merely flee the country with them in tow, or simply feint an escape if we're all mistaken. Your anonymity will be my cover. No one will catch on as long as they are unaware that you're actually watching over me."

"Sounds risky." was all Delan could think to say. He tapped his fingers on the wooden table as he thought. "You could just as easily be dead by then, or worse."

"I can't ignore this contract." Nilus said, raising his voice slightly. "We can either go by this plan or have you sit here idle. This could be an opportunity. The council in Nowle Osto showed me how weak Emoria is. If Idona can show the rest of the world how to get results, then I'll be the first to do it. Bantering in a fancy library did nothing, but destroying a common enemy could be the beginning of a united Emoria."

"Or the beginning of something far greater than you understand...a war...the destruction of everything you care about." Delan fired back.

"As if we weren't already heading that way!?" Nilus said, getting more heated. "The world is in pieces, we've got only one way to go, and that's up. If we start a chain of events like you describe, Idona can band together again. We always have. We fought the Drenata alone and won. At least my way we have the potential to start something good."

"You're too ambitious..." Delan started.

"Enough of this!" Nilus said, nearly shouting. "I see a possible opportunity, and I'll be damned if I won't take it!" His body felt hot as his temper began to flare. The same sensation he felt at the council started coming on again. As young as he was, he wasn't fully in control of the spontaneous rage that was so easily triggered in Ayrens. He stormed out of the room to calm himself.

---

Midnight

Nilus took a sip from the flask containing the Flor solution he'd been keeping since the council. He took a deep breath as he finally started coming down from the adrenaline rush he'd felt a few hours ago.

"Nilus?" a familiar voice called out. It was Naomi. "Can we talk?"

"I don't think you want to hear my answer. I already know what you're asking." came his reply.

Naomi stepped closer, coming into the light shining through the exterior window. "I was listening when you were consulting the men. I want to..."

"I don't think it's a good idea Naomi." Nilus replied. "If Delan is right, it would only make matters worse."

"That's not what I understood from your point of view." Naomi replied, with a small grimace on her face. "You don't really doubt yourself now do you?"

"Naomi, it's complicated. Our king wants what's best for Idona. I want to take it a step further. Something big is happening in Emoria. I want to do what I can to help, but if I'm wrong..." he paused for a second, considering what Delan said at the meeting. "If I'm wrong, I don't want anyone else to suffer for it."

"And this relates to me...how?" Naomi replied, knowing that Nilus wouldn't be able to keep her from following along. "I want what's best for you Nilus. You're my friend."

"You'd make for a terrible captain." Nilus said, letting out a small chuckle. "Then again, no matter how either of us perceives it, it's reckless to even consider traveling with a stranger, to a strange place, to do who-knows-what...just on the slim chance that we could actually be doing something notable. Damn my indecisiveness..." he trailed off.

Nilus wasn't sure what to say. He simply smiled back at Naomi and took another sip from the flask.

"I hope your instincts are right, Nilus." she said. "I hope this contract is the beginning of something big. Bigger than we can imagine; big enough to turn the tide against whatever has caused this turmoil in Emoria. Maybe someday you'll run into one of the delegates from that council and be revered as the one who showed Emoria how to band together like Idona has done in generations past."

"All right, enough!" Nilus said, laughing. "With my luck, this will turn out to be some sort of joke, or petty job, or even better, a mistake all together. My head is too far in the clouds, and now it's rubbing off on you."

The two joked for another hour before retiring for the night.

---

OP Artyrdane common area Approximately 8 am

Annikhol was waiting, as promised, in the same place as the day before. When the two young Ayrens approached, she gave a bit of a disapproving glare to Naomi.

"You're supposed to be alone." she said before Nilus could even introduce the two.

Ignoring what he perceived as rudeness towards Naomi, Nilus gestured towards Naomi. "This is Naomi of Tratant. She won't be carrying out the contract, but rather accompanying me to Valinyx. I have a personal stake in her safety, which I cannot ensure from a thousand miles away."

Naomi gave a slight bow towards Annikhol, but didn't offer a handshake. "Miss Gelere, you won't even notice me. Nilus and I are traveling companions, and I assure you that we will prove to be good sources of conversation on our journey. As Nilus said, I won't be taking part. Any guarded information won't reach me; it's solely between him and your employer."

"Your respect for privacy is commendable." Annikhol said, feigning a compliment. She could care less for her employer, as 'guarded information' was what landed her this pathetic errand girl job in the first place. "Shall we?" she said, gesturing towards the road leading northwest into the edges of Idona.

An hour later, the three were well on their way to Valinyx.

[Gadreille]

Annikhol Gelere
DAY 14

Late Morning

Annikhol Gelere tried to come up with a plan, a most impossible task while flouncing about the backside of a horse. She had been doing far too much riding, and her body was taking a toll. Luckily, she was an adept rider, and it seemed that her two companions were just as weary of the road, though they did not ease their pace. She could hardly keep up.

Alys Rae had gotten her into this mess…but how was she to get out? No doubt Alys would hold her secret over her head until the day she died…and the thought bring her that day early had come to mind, but she couldn’t conceive how to do it. Alys was a member of the Ordis sect, a miracle worker. Annikhol was not.

Annikhol did not know much about the mercenary, but what little Alys had prepared her with was enough for Annikhol to understand that they would not break contract. There would be no way to ploy any social means to convince them that Alys was too dangerous to be kept living. Alys had explained all of this just so Annikhol would understand that she could not use them against Alys. A crafty woman, Alys was.

While Annikhol had come upon great wealth, her late husband’s to be exact; she was unsure about the idea of paying the mercenary to kill Alys. She wasn’t sure if they even would, since they were under contract with the woman. She didn’t know the cost of hiring them, and she was too unfamiliar with the culture of it all to feel comfortable using her money to destroy Alys. At least, not yet. No…there must be a better way. Then, she would finally be free of her.

Still, it couldn’t hurt to befriend the two Ayrens. She had been polite to the two of them ever since her arrival, though she was not sure what part she was supposed to play as of yet. Nilus seemed to leave the two women riding together most of the time, staying behind for reasons that Annikhol was not yet aware. This did not fool Annikhol into thinking she was responsible for the pace, for anytime she slowed down, he and Naomi would keep on going, until she had to urge her horse to catch up again. It was an awkward leadership indeed. The only reason she was in front was because only she had the knowledge of the meeting point.

Annikhol gave a small smile to Naomi as she slowed her horse enough to leave Naomi ahead of her, and then sided up near Nilus. Naomi looked back, but didn’t slow her horse. Annikhol looked at Nilus, trying to appear calm and collected despite the sweat of hard riding. “Your partner, is she…in the same business as yourself?”

---

Day 2

Morning

Alys walked through the cathedral as quickly as she could without running. She had a meeting with the Sage Lord that she must keep. She had left him at the docks, but today they would be moving inland, and soon south, toward the heart of the rebellion. She had given him the general plans, but there were far more details to accomplish. These details were running through her head as she turned the corner and came face to face with the High Priestess of Vallar, Avalandra.

Alys bowed immediately. “My lady, High Priestess Avalandra,” she said, with false reverence.

Avalandra responded, “High Sanguine Alys, where are you going?”
“Your eminence, I am meeting with the Sage traders, helping set your ingenious plan to action.”

Avalandra laughed, a throaty, noncommittal, condescending tone. “Dear Alys, I had sent them to you first for a reason. I thought you would turn them away, and I would not have to deal with a trading contract!”

Alys gasped, her voice catching in her throat. “My lady, I…don’t know what to say. I thought your plan was a sound one. Was I wrong not to send him away?” Alys was furious inside. The sage lord had been sent to her like laundry sent to the cleaning ladies. And the worst part? Alys’ first reaction had been to send them away, just as Avalandra had predicted.

“My plan? Hardly. Selma filled me in before you and the Sage Lord arrived. He could not know that I was in the dark of your ideas. Agreeing to long term trade if only they stop our rebellion? Ingenious, Alys.”

Selma was Alys’ contact in the Vallar sect, the only one who knew of the Spirean. She had to tread carefully, and Alys knew that Selma had done the right thing. She also knew she was going to kill Selma soon so she would not have to deal with her any longer.

“We are but your subjects, here to support your eminence. I am glad you thought the plan sound.”

“Yes, Alys. Now, where are your bags?”

“Bags, My lady?”

“Well, of course. You are leading this expedition, are you not?”

Alys reddened. She had not thought about leaving the confines of the cathedral to deal with this rebellion. That was what the Sage were for! “Of course, my lady.”

---

Alys marched down the steps to the docks, where the Sage’s masterful ships lay safely tied. She looked to and fro for the Sage Lord Dastan Imatari, but could not find him. Finally, she was approached a dark haired man who was much older than Dastan, even older than herself, which was rare among the Sage.

“I am looking for the Sage Lord Dastan Imatari, Good Sir,” she said to him before he could speak.

[Mojave Wanderer]

Pre-Arrival

Renkar Evestan laid straight across the floor mat in his quarters, waiting for the sun to rise over the mountains in the distance, lighting up the thick layers of moisture, ever present in the Mountains of Kiri-Nokune. He was slowly drifting out of his meditation, watching the light reflect across the thick layers of fog through a hole in the side of the room that looked out over the mountains. He would soon begin his weekly teaching of the Earth Sages at the base of the Temple of Six Paths.

After he clothed and put on his silver armor, Renkar made his way towards a large stone staircase leading to the main floor of the temple, his room being just off the hall that connected to this staircase. He continued towards a large open entrance at the front of the Temple of Six Paths, where he descended another, larger stone staircase that descended to the training grounds and the living quarters of the journeyman, novice, and training Sages. Although normally most Sage Lords did not teach, Renkar found it important to share his ideas with any Earth Sages that cared to learn, although most of his teachings were ignored by the High Sages and Sage Lords.

As he turned towards the small opening to a long open room, Renkar noticed Master Sage Keverious running up the large staircase that Renkar just descended. Rarely does a man of his age run, thought Renkar. Renkar entered the room, seeing only five Sages at the back, all extremely young for Sages. “I am sorry,” said Renkar, “I have urgent matters to attend to, so I will be unable to teach today.” The young Sages at the back of the room almost seemed relieved, as if they were forced to come. I’ll have to look into that later. . .
A large bell rang out over the whole temple. As soon as Renkar heard it he began on the fastest route to the meeting chamber of the Sage Lords.

Most of the Sage Lords were already in the chamber as Renkar walked in. “
What’s going on?” asked Renkar to Lord Silre, a friend of his and a fellow Sage Lord.

“None of us re-“Lady Silre attempted to say, but the Sage Master began to speak.

“As most of you know, I have just come back from a visit with King Thallus”said the Master Sage in a frail tone.

“He has informed me that I have made a mistake sending only Lord Imatari to quench the Valinyx rebellion. This task is of the utmost importance, and if it does not succeed, the King fears we will drift even closer to war with new lands” said the Master Sage.
“I have decided that I and every single one of you shall accompany me on this task” said the Master Sage, leaving no room for discussion.
“Prepare the ship. We shall leave in four hours”

“Excuse me, Master Keverious!” yelled Renkar, but the Master Sage was nowhere in sight.

---

DAY 2

Morning

Renkar stood at the docks as the wind blew gently towards him from the sea. The air was fresh, the water a darker grey tone, and the sky overcast, making Renkar feel quite content to wait as long as he could for this lady, Alys.

He had only arrived at the docks a few hours ago, soon spotting Dastan, who had luckily just been standing at the docks waiting for Alys. The Master Sage sent Renkar to go to Dastan and lead him back to the ship to tell everyone of what events were currently taking place. As soon as the Sage Lords and Master Sage Keverious knew what was going on, Master Keverious sent Renkar to take Dastan’s place, trusting him over a younger less experienced Sage Lord.

Renkar glanced over at the Sages ship. Most of the Sages were helping unload wagons and much need supplies that they would take with them further inland. Renkar felt he should be over there helping, but he understood the importance of meeting with this woman. He noticed a woman who began pacing around the docks, almost as if she was looking for someone. Renkar was about to speak when she said,
“I am looking for the Sage Lord Dastan Imatari, Good Sir.”

“You must be. . . Lady Alys is it?” replied Renkar.

“I am sorry about Lord Imatari, but he has been sent back to the ships to assist in moving equipment. I have now, if I may say so, taken his place. If there is a problem I can take you to Master Keverious, but I’m sure that I, Lord Renkar Evestan, will be able to handle this “situation” just as well as any other Sage Lord,” said Renkar.

[Gabe]

Day 14-Northwestern Idona Territory

Nilus stayed behind the others for the first few miles. He wasn't worried about an attack, but rather needed to leave a set of coded instructions for the group that would be following them. With any amount of luck, Annikhol would keep them on the established roads for as long as possible. He fumbled through a saddle bag containing scouting supplies until he found his marker set. These were simple slips of waxed paper with symbols written on them. When folded and fitted on an arrow, they looked like normal fletching. The group following them would retrieve these arrows, and recover the markers to decipher direction, distance, and time from Nilus.

The only challenge to this practice was placing the arrows without Annikhol noticing. He hadn't told Naomi about the following group either. To ensure their secrecy, he wouldn't be able to. Nilus dropped his pace dramatically, just long enough to nock the first arrow and fire it beside the road. He quickly fitted his bow over his shoulder again before resuming his pace. Annikhol hadn't noticed, but began dropping her own pace. Nilus hid his fear of discovery as she addressed him.

"Your partner, is she…in the same business as yourself?”

Nilus gave a mental sigh of relief before considering his answer.

"You haven't encountered many Ayrens, I see." Nilus said with a grin. "What we do isn't a business. Prowess on the battlefield is the responsibility of all Ayrens. What we do outside of battle is just as varied as any other society. Violence for hire isn't a business, it's simply our way."

He gestured towards Naomi. "She is talented with a needle and thread, but as a captain, I also value her abilities as a swordsman. I'm also teaching her some scouting techniques."

"Interesting." Annikhol replied. "Is it normal for your people to do this?" She was genuinely a bit interested, although she was still contemplating their potential usefulness.

"During the first 15 years of our lives, we travel between families before being placed in an army. Each family teaches us a trade, as well as a skill in battle. Tratant was my first captain, and my third father, for example. He is also Naomi's biological father. He taught me how to be a scout, something I feel obliged to teach her."

Nilus was silent for a moment. His relation to Naomi was something he didn't often talk about. He wasn't even sure if Naomi was aware of it.

"That's not something I normally discuss...I'm sorry." Nilus said, a little flustered at his own stupidity. How had he let something like that slip to a complete stranger?

---

Day 14-Campsite

Nilus stood 100 meters from the campsite. The girls were chatting around the fire while Nilus went for more firewood. He used the opportunity to lay another marker for his compatriots who were hopefully only a few miles behind them. He hadn't told Annikhol to keep the secret to herself, although he wasn't sure if she was even aware that he wanted it kept secret to begin with. It was an awkward situation, but it wouldn't affect the contract, so Nilus put it in the back of his mind.

When he arrived back at the site, Nilus abruptly sat in the dirt next to Annikhol.

So..." he started, interrupting himself with a sip of water "Tell us a little about yourself. Now that you know about the 'business' we Ayrens are in, why not tell us about yours?"

[Gadreille]

Day 2

Alys narrowed her eyes, thoughts rolling through her head. Dastan was replaced? They had had an understanding deeper than the shallow connextions between Valinyx and Suituria. He had known, to some degree, that there was business beyond the quenched rebellion that needed satisfying. He had been most willing to work the rebellion exactly the way she wanted; and better yet, he had been fully trusting of her and would have been blind to the innermost workings of her plan.

"Good Morning, Lord Evestan," She said almost immediately, bowing slightly before placing her hand in his gently. "Is there a reason Lord Imatari is no longer at my service? Has he been disposed of his position as mediator between Suitria and Valinyx? Records indicate it is he who has brought the contract, you see, and I must make notation of this." While what she said was perfectly true, she really just wanted to know why. Were the Sage weary of her, or was this just Suituria politics at play, and nothing to do with Alys at all?

---

Annikhol Gelere
DAY 14

Annikhol categorized the bits of information she recieved as she spoke with the two Ayrens. Though she defintely had a better understanding of their culture than say, a few days prior, she was still hopelessly lost in their ways. She was beginning to understand why Alys would not want them near the Cathedral; their ways were very different from that of the Vallar. It was unsurprising at all that an Ordis member would stir up a contract with such...strange people.

At first, she thought it was barbaric. But as a woman of practical means, she began to see how a country could in fact sustain itself on such a way of life. However, it seemed to her that there was something in the Ayrens that were not in others; either that, or, there was something missing within them. Either way, it was hard to note, and the more time she spent with them, the fewer differences she found.

Then again, Annikhol was no Vallar priestess.

At times it seemed Naomi was more pure of heart than anyone Annikhol had known. Usually, this frame of mind led to wispy, weak women who frolic and waste away on nothing...but Naomi was not so. It intrigued her to see someone so soft within, but strong without. Annikhol found herself jealous of Naomi's prowess, but she made sure it did not let her conversation turn bitter.

It was in one of these moments, where Annikhol sat upon a rock and asked questions of Naomi as she tended the fire, and listened to her responses, when Nilus returned with a question of his own.

It caught her off guard. Not only was she very private about her life, she could not neatly wrap up what she did with who she was in a nice little package, the way the Ayren’s could. “My business is not so interesting. I was and am a courier. I am lucky enough to now run a company of couriers. It is something relatively new in Valinyx. In some rural areas, you just ask anyone to run your messages, usually young lads wanting a penny. But my couriers are more professional, and some will pay more to have someone they can rely on to deliver a message promptly, properly, and without tampering. For example, all of the cathedral's messages are run through my company. It was my husband’s company, which I worked for, but it is mine now.”

“If you have couriers, why are you one yourself?” Naomi asked.

Annikhol laughed, but there was little mirth in it. In reality, it was a question she avoided asking herself. After all, she worked very hard to not ever have to be a courier again. "Alys wanted to be sure that your contract offer was received promptly, and she trusted no one but myself to do it. She can be very…persuasive…when she wants something done.”

[Mojave Wanderer]

Day 2

Renkar noticed Alys’ distress over his appearance. Greater things must be at play here. . . Renkar focused back on Alys. "Is there a reason Lord Imatari is no longer at my service? Has he been disposed of his position as mediator between Suitria and Valinyx? Records indicate it is he who has brought the contract, you see, and I must make notation of this." Alys said as he began to focus on the conversation. It seems she has a connection with Lord Imatari.

“Think of it like this,” said Renkar,
“Now the entire group of Sage Lords shall be serving as the mediator between Suituria and Valinyx. I, being in this position, am like a messenger between you and the Sages. Lord Imatari is younger than me and less experienced with delicate situations such as these. Therefore, I, instead of him, shall be serving as the ‘messenger’ the Sages and yourself, and the Sages shall be serving as the mediator between Suituria and Valinyx.”
“Since there is no one else here and our wagons are nearly ready to move I assume it is not too early to ask who our guide is. Might it be you?” asked Renkar.

Alys face reddened slightly, her anger almost showing though. Normally, Alys was collected. But the Priestess of Vallar was just as much a weasel, putting Alys as the guide and out of the palace! "Yes, my lord. I will be your guide. Though I only recently learned this; I must go home and prepare before we can leave." She took a breath, her voice raising slightly, a note of authority and distain within. "I should like to go over the plans that Lord Imatari has relayed to you. If he was too inexperienced, then he was bound to have made some mistake."

“While I am no hurry to go over the plans, I would like to know when exactly” said Renkar, “Maybe we can discuss it after you return from your home? For now I think I shall help unload what is left on the ship.” Renkar began to walk away towards his ship, not turning to see where Alys was going.

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