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Lady Tam

The Darakan Chronicles

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A company of Elves has fallen and now he expects we seven to triumph? I wonder if he's ever had anyone say "no" to him before?

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Jesset, still holding her head bowed, feels a narrow roll of scribed hide slipped into her hands by her friend, the Aspect. With a nimbleness of fingers unmatched among even the remarkable Chosen, she holds it hidden. Lord Flame...Shanhaevar wants this hidden? I doubt the King does not know what he has passed to me, but if he wishes discretion, perhaps I can - Now! she thinks as Atolin's attention is elsewhere.

 

Quickly she takes in what she can in her short glance...

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[see OOC for helpful background info on this post]

 

 

Oh. Yes, that makes sense, the Librarian-Archer thinks to herself. Quickly, she touches the scroll to the back of Warrick's leg by using a worming twist of her wrist. As the scrap is taken from her hand - as gently as can be - Jesset's mind begins to race.

 

I did read an allusion to the purpose of the four Aspects when I was reading The Obsolescence of the Word for Master Entellus, didn't I? Why didn't it occur to me that might refer to our Shanhaevar? Of course, I hadn't heard him named 'Aspect' then.

 

Altho' her friend, Lord Flame, had one purpose in passing the scroll to the sinister-born Servant of the Aspen for Jesset, it served another.

 

Always at home speaking multiple languages and deriving pleasure from studying the idiosycracies of each, it wasn't until the restless Ranger served Master Entellus in the Five Libraries that she discovered how much joy and pleasure she could find in reading a couplet of new wisdom. Moments ago, she had been paralyzed by the implications of standing before the King of a people who never quite accepted her. Her mind reeled with thoughts of danger at her birth or at some accidental discourtesy or even at her past failures in the Order of Servants. But the scroll - Bless that scroll, she thought - brought her back to herself.

 

If that moment of joy overcame her shock, it did not take her sadness.

 

It's as I feared. Could any King make a crueller request? It's as if he asks me to remove my own heart with a knife and watch as it is cooked on a bed of mushrooms in a Royal Tandoori.

 

And yet, it is exactly what I hoped he would ask, isn't it?

 

She waits for King Atolin's answer to her Aspected Companion, but then she finally finds her voice - a voice to speak for herself.

 

"Your Majesty," she tests - like a toe in the waters of the conversation. Receiving the slightest of nods in her direction, she continues, "I know that there is little I can say aloud that you have not already foreseen. So likely you already know both my past and what I am to say. Forgive me, therefore, but you asked a question, and I would answer it."

 

"You asked if we might know what an enemy who weild your dead comrades against you might be like. I know."

 

"You may think me disloyal, lord, but in the days after I was made Voyager and left my Bole, I fought exactly such an enemy," here she glances at the map and briefly wets her lips before continuing, "indeed perhaps the same enemy. I fought beside Orcs and truly I know that many of them did not deserve to be saved. But not all were evil. Certainly the children," the warrior of long bloody experience gives a tiny shudder before repeating herself, "the children deserved a chance to choose. But the enemy sent the bodies of mothers to .... Your Majesty, you may rightly wonder why I might have sympathy for an Orc. Never did I truly feel any deep sympathy while fighting raiders with my fellow Servants. But the very horror of the enemy you describe evoked my true sympathy. Even sadness."

 

"And so - as you may know - I have sworn to rid this plane of the animated and remorseless Unliving... and those who bring them to be.

 

"I honor you, Majesty. And I serve you. But a similar task I would do even if it was not my King that asked it. "

 

"What is hard then, is not that you ask me to fight the dead, but that you send me Home ... to those still-Living I may have to kill."

 

Now her eyes moisten again, and as ferocious as the horned-one named Ferryl may appear, her fragility is now plain to any in the room.

 

"I do know this enemy, Your Majesty. And I will guide my companions Home to fight him. For anyone I would banish the Unliving from this plane. For you, for your Greatness and for my Loyalty, I will give up my Bole."

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Mykayla listened to the king, her mind wandering a bit when she realized she really didn’t think of him as “her” king any more. Her own kind had washed their hands of her when she first manifested her powers, so why wouldn’t she distance herself from them?

 

If asked alone her answer would have been ‘no’ but of course they wouldn’t ask her, one with tainted blood and wild unpredictable powers, she thought bitterly. No, they turn instead to Jesset, one who is as much an outsider to the elves as I myself am. And they turn to Shan, a human, because of what they think he is and what he represents. It must really gall them that the aspect of fire is a human mage. Sighing mentally she turns her attention back to what the King is saying and asking. She then listens to the others' replies and questions.

 

Leave it to Stern to jump right aboard, she thinks wryly, ever since the Brothers ‘found’ him he has been all hel-fire and zeal to fight against evil. [At Jesset’s reply:] Poor Jesset, she probably thinks her family has fallen to whatever evil is out there. She thinks sympathetically. Well, I will go, and I will help, but only because my friends are going and not for some 'King" I owe nothing to

LT

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Warrick sees the scroll's transfer even before it makes its way to him. He gives Shan an appraising, approving look and wonders what might secrets the paper might contain that would cause the Fire Wizard to risk so much. A number of possible solutions present but he saves his reasoning for after more information is gathered.

 

For now, he is happy to ply his trade and make himself of some use to their little group. His hand was ready even before the Lynx extended the scroll to him. He reaches up to adjust the cord binding his hair with his right hand even as his left hand accepts the scroll and tucks it into the cuff of his black shirt. Once his right hand lowers his left is already empty.

 

The precendent set, the Scout lets his eyes wander about the room when he does not have the king's attention to see what else might be of use to them on their journey.

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Hello.

 

Sorry about the short posting, but at least I got it done...

 

--begin--

 

The room is quiet for a moment, the very air charged with powerful emotion. King Atolin narrows his remaining eye at the request of Shan. His thoughts on the matter are his own. But he does turn to look fully at the Islander. Through bits and pieces, Shan and the rest of the Companions have learned a little of what is trapped in the mind of the Islander, and that he does not know all of his past. Through cheers of acknowledgment and oaths sworn to eradicate this blight upon the Shining Host, King Atolin narrows his eye further, his gaze almost piercing the Islander.

 

“Something has happened to you, Anethu Daelinus.” He cocks his head a little. “You've changed... in some deep way. You've your familiar, and you've your health. But something has changed in you. You of all people would know where the other Aspects would be at any time, having forged a deep bond with the others.”

 

The King's eye goes wide, realizing how grave the issue.[E] “Oh, Gods no! By Heavens and Hearth... No!” [/E] He staggers back, collapsing against a chair. Shocked by the possibility that Lord Flame could not simply wave his hand, and make his realm safe once again, he feels his hand tremble. Words are meaningless as he thinks. He must do something to save his realm, and if the Anethu Daelinus has been afflicted in some manner, then it is up to him to-- The Skoli!

 

Atolin looks to the cyan-hued warrior-scholar, only now registering the words she speaks so deeply from her soul. [E] “Yes!” [/E] He stands, crossing to her. Refusing to let her bow, he clasps her shoulders, tight for the emotion in the old Elf's soul.

 

[E] “Listen to me, please. Lady Skoli. Your kind only comes to us in our times of greatest need. You are a prophecy to our people. You are a savior to your people. You have wandered the lands, near and far. You have helped Man and Dwarf, and even the reviled Orc. But now you've come Home. You've come to help us. It was no accident that Anethu Daelinus found you. He was speaking from his soul to yours, begging for your help. You will give your Bole to save us all. But then I remembered...! Do you remember, to the north of the Bole, three days travel. The hillocks and lowlands that begin the mountains. There is where we buried our dead. The Bole was not only a place of trading, but our sentinel there, an honor guard to watch over those who fell in our name. Go to your home, go to the Bole and from there, seek out that which stirs the fallen.”

 

He holds up a finger, then speaks on the Common Tongue. “But most assuredly, you cannot do this on your own.” He releases his grip on her shoulder, looking to the bewildered and slightly confused Companions. “You all will prevail. But only if you are united in this cause.”

 

--End--

 

--LSH

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"They will come, Your Majesty." Jesset now stands taut as Sorrow's Bane strung tight. "I have had moments when I felt unworthy of them, but they are true friends. They will come because I ask."

 

And it is true that Jesset has been melancholy at times. In their first night of danger together, she played rear guard with a useless hand and nearly died at the hands of two rogues - part of the usurper Fedlak's plan or not, none will ever know. But she has placed herself between her friends and danger time after time. The lessons have come slowly, but now she is sure: They will do the same for her.

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"They will come, Your Majesty." Jesset now stands taut as Sorrow's Bane strung tight. "I have had moments when I felt unworthy of them, but they are true friends. They will come because I ask."

 

Robert turns his head fractionally, his eyes seeking out his lovers and as they meet he whispers something to her. He turns back and speaks openly.

 

"I have no fear to risk my life for the Elves, your majesty. I would sacrifice everything I have and all that I am for one in particular. For my family in arms I would do the same. But I am not the rebirth of your god, nor a saviour to your people, not a holy warrior imbued with the spirit of his ancestors. I'm just a 'Mon'keigh'."

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Warrick's eyes snap back to the conversation, abandoning his search for other items to 'acquire,' concerned that he may have just missed something important. He nearly jumps in surprise as the king abandons all decorum and clutches Jesset. He begins to question the king's composure, and possibly his sanity, from the act but he wonders mildly if this is merely a difference between Elven kings and Human kings.

 

His wry grin turns upward slightly at the veiled accusation in Robert's response. With pride he assesses Robert's statement wondering if the woodsman had any inkling how well those very words would have played amongst ambassadors jockeying for position at the bargaining table.

 

Either he's cleverer than he likes to let on or his frustration has yielded a pearl, but whatever the reason, I wish I had been the one to say that. Well done, Robert.

 

Warrick merely rises and nods his assent to the words Robert and Jesset have spoken.

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The giant paladin of Rockfist stands listening intently to the exchange between the Elven king, Shan, Robert, and Jesset.

 

Stern is ready.

 

The Aegis squeezes the pommel of his Darakan short sword as his gaze drifts back toward the northern mountains. The murmur of countless undead whisper his name from some where beyond the reaches of his own understanding.

 

The undead. They await our arrival... St. Marcus stay with us in this our time o' need.

 

SK

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Shan turns and also sinks into a chair, cradling his head in his hands.

 

All that knowledge lost... gone... somehow...

 

"King Atolin," Shan says in the common tongue, "you... you're right. Something has happened. I'm... well... the knowledge... the tradition... it's... well it's gone. All gone."

 

He sighs and reclines back, all energy seeming fled.

 

"All I remember is darkness and cold. A light gone out. Fleeing something dark before plunging and falling... when I awoke, these others were gathered by Lady Beleah of Searoad."

 

He stops and stares off into the distance for a moment before continuing.

 

"Mykayla named me 'Shanhaevar' for the shadows which cloud my mind. I say cloud because the memories are still there... I hope. My skill and command of magic may not be as great as you remember, but whatever remains, I will use as needed to end this undead threat."

 

He stands and walks toward the elven king.

 

"But I must ask you to send the Phoenix Guard and collect another Aspect. Any or all. They may know of a way to unlock my potential. They must!"

 

Turning back he stares out the long window.

 

I just want to know my own name...

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Mykayla listens and watches the others as the reply to the Kings request. At Robert’s whispered words the corners of her mouth twitch up a bit in a wry smile, and she looks out the north windows herself. With half an ear she listens to Shan’s request while her mind wanders in bitter memories. When she looks back from the windows she quietly says. "Oh I will go, but not for you, your kingdom, nor your people. For if it was up to me I would cheerfully leave you all to your fate. But, because those who have shown me greater friendship than my own 'kind' are going, I will go with them to give them what aid I can." As she turns her cold acusing eyes to the King of the elves.

 

LT

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"I cannot say that I do this for the elves, I can no longer say I do this for the love of my new found family. I will help because it is the will of the Earth Mother."

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Hey all. Sorry about the delay.

 

--begin--

 

Atolin breathes deeply, relief evident on his weathered features. To know that the Skoli will assist is more than enough.

 

The tone the Companions take is unusual, to say the least. But it has been an emotional day for everyone involved. The King ascends that the Companions will help only themselves, and even cruel-eyed Mykayla's announcement that she would leave the Elf kind to their fates. He turns to her, his single eye speaking more wisdom than his words. “Lady Mykayla. You forget that your fate is intertwined to this land, as all Elves are. You are, of course welcome to depart these lands. Gold will be provided for your travels, and we shall wish our Ancestor's wisdom to you.” He lets the heavy sentence hang in the air a moment. “But if you will allow an old Elf a moment of clarity to the younger generation; All people will do to you what you let them do.”

 

The greatest tragedy is Shan, one bright and powerful spellcaster, trained in the ancient and noble art of Wizardry. Such power locked in him, caged like an animal. Truly this is doubly sorrowful, for the spellcaster will never have the time to bring forth his powers to their glory before Hel whispers to him to join his ancestors in the Otherworld... The King nods to the simple request. Almost by wishing it, Aifrik is at the door, to freshen beverages and take the request that the Aspects be found. “Of course, Your Majesty.” his reply.

 

Robert's comment has not gone unnoticed by this Elf. He smirks to the woodsman, his good eye twinkling in the light. “In truth, Woodsman, the word means 'not Elf', but such is the way of my people to make anything not one of them to be derogatory. We have had struggles, and sometimes, we forget that it was the combined races of this land that stopped the Empire's madness... The way you hear some historians, you would think we did naught but walk to Daraka and paddle the mad emperor...”

 

Atolin nods, and turns to Stern, Holy Might contained in his ancient Darakan armor. He steps closer, albiet to the side to avoid the womanly wrath of Mykayla. “Brother Stern. I must confess that rare is the time that the Aegis Armor stands before me in my own library. We may have some time while the Guard summon the Aspects. Shall I assume that you have been busy memorizing the names and heroics of those who wore that armor before you?”

 

Sadly, even in this land of magick, finding and returning with even one of the Aspects will take time. Such is informed to His Majesty, and with a nod, he says to the Companions. “Well, if you're so gracious to assist my land, then I would assume you wish to know all I may provide to you. No reason to go blind into danger...”

 

--End--

 

Alright, Q and A time! Woohoo!

 

--LSH

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As the Elven King addresses the Companions, Stern focuses his attentions away from the haunting call of the living dead that claw at his mind turning rather to watch the venerable Atolin interact with The Chosen seven.

 

Finally, Atolin speaks to Stern diectly.

 

Atolin nods, and turns to Stern, Holy Might contained in his ancient Darakan armor. He steps closer, albiet to the side to avoid the womanly wrath of Mykayla. “Brother Stern. I must confess that rare is the time that the Aegis Armor stands before me in my own library. We may have some time while the Guard summon the Aspects. Shall I assume that you have been busy memorizing the names and heroics of those who wore that armor before you?”

 

"<e>The honor is mine yer highness...<e>" Stern says in an uncharacterisically low firm tone not often associated with the elven language, "<e>but I'm afraid this knight only knows o' me great, great, great grandfather who fought as the Aegis in the Daraka wars... It was said that he single-handedly killed thousands of orcs, goblins, and other beasts during the campaign to save to world o' men, dwarf, n' elf alike... He even took an elven maiden as his bride. But tha names o' tha other Aegis' before me I've not yet been told m'lord, only that their spirit's n' tha spirit o' St. Marcus himself dwell within my heart, mind, n' soul, but this I've somehow known since I was a boy... However, any knowledge you or yer scribes er' mages could offer would be a treasured gift yer highness...<e>"

 

The mighty Aegis falls silent, waiting for the King absorb his response before speaking again.

 

The enormous paladin speaks once more, this time his questions are directed toward the matter at hand and in the common language...

 

"Lord Atolin, how many o' these undead do ye expect we shall face in this quest before us? N' m'lord might I ask if yer weaponmasters would be willin' ta lend me an enchanted blunt weapon er' two from their armory so tha' I canna better crush those undead who are nothin' but walkin' bones n' sinew..."

 

Stern then falls silent once more searching the elven leader's single eye for an answer.

 

SK

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