The Tides that Bind IC

[AlanBruce]

The Tides That Bind

"Do not forget the Old Adage, my boy... by the Gods, never forget it!"

******

Some unspecified time ago...

Captain Johansen was a seasoned man. His years in the Navy had given him an immaculate record and rightfully so, earned him a ship. One that had valiantly traversed the oceans of Oerth countless times. This was supposed to be yet another regular voyage. The same old schedule. A familiar port...

But as the good captain ran through the halls of his ship, now splattered in blood and watched his crew ambling howling and turning, the old captain just now came to the realization:

This may very well be his last voyage. Something in his gut told him it was wrong from the very beginning, but money is a powerful siren. It's soothing song lulled him only until the very end, when the screams of agony and death rattles echoed through the ship and fighting bravely, pushed his way towards the lower cabin of his ship, where a handful of his crew remained, if only in a terrible state themselves. Trained warriors, just like him, but there are somethings training just doesn't cover as the good captain locks the door behind him and the howls and roars can be heard outside while the ship rocks side to side- nobody to man the ship.

"Are the crates ready? You got the fire?""

"Captain... what are those things?! One of them looked like Pete, but the way he came at me and...""

"Those aren't our friends anymore. Could anyone contact land?""

"No, captain- all communications have been severed. But how is it possible that someone like that could...""

"That is not what you think it is. It's a Hellspawn and to Hell we're going to send it! Men, it has been an honor serving by your side all these years. I wish we could've retired in a different way, I really would have. Nobody on land anywhere deserves to have this reach its shores. I hope you have all said your prayers. Let's ignite the crates and...""

But before any crates can be lit, the howls and roars outside stop and Captain Johansen and his few remaining men watch in horror as the sealed door opens by itself casting a small shadow that begins to grow as it envelops everyone and a wicked smile draws upon it, causing the few survivors to shake with abject fear before the captain reaches for his cutlass before this one shatters to pieces and the lone figure walks into the room while the beasts stand silently outside...

Let it not be said that Captain Johansen was not brave until the very end.

******

@Gregory: It's Sunday. Time for mass all over Halmathan but more importantly for you:

The Castello of Santa Noria, Halmathan's maximum security prison and, after The Scourge, an asylum and House of Hospice for those that survived the Hunter's Purge and were granted clemency. After all- they did not act under their own judgement. Poor souls all of them, now under watchful care, the patients of St. Norias are given extreme care and Julienne Du Vay is no exception:

It is hard to believe that this is the same person that ten years ago did such an untold atrocity, as she and many other patients work on the Lumenflower Garden at the top balcony of the Castello, well protected in case any would decide to jump over it in an unpredicted fit of rage. She, like every other sunday before, does not recognize you. A new face every week for her. A kind and gentle caress on her cheek and the odd smile returned...

What she has been wearing for awhile now is the very first ring you gave her. This was brought to you a few months ago after a thorough search of your room. Perhaps, deep within her fractured mind... a lingering ripple remains of a better time.

And then Julienne looks up at you and smiles as she shows you the flowers she has collected, the sun shining above her:

"Lady Maria! I am a Robin! Will I grow up to be an egg?""

Of course he would be addressing her, as she walks past the patients, all whom reach out to her hand as she holds theirs back:

Lady Maria of Cainhurst. Known as one of world's finest swordsmen. She belonged to the now disbanded Helguard and trained directly under the legendary Ludwig, the Holy Blade. Now, Lady Maria has retired. It is she who oversees the patients from The Scourge and it is said she has vowed to never use a blade again. Nobody has bothered to ask her why- any member of that faction earned their right to walk away from that path and rightfully so.

Lady Maria gives you a courteous bow and smiles at Julienne.

"Sir Gregory. Ever the punctual man. How is Halmathan faring these days? Thank you, Julienne.""

Lady Maria takes one of the flowers handed by your wife and places it on her lapel as she watches the other patients working in the beautiful garden as the distant bells of Halmathan signal the commencement of mass in its many churches. Even though St. Noria's is a mile away on horseback, the Angelus can always be heard and this House of Hospice is no stranger to religion, as the patients kneel on the flowery bed and pray in silence while Maria walks beside you and gives one last glance at Julienne.

"She has been wearing the ring for awhile now. Refuses to take it off. I believe we may be seeing some progress. I do not wish to give you false hope, though:

This...disease. It takes its toll. I can assure you though that once we find a cure. A real one, she will be the first to be treated. You have my word.""

And it is then that Inquisitor Calchis' voice can be heard speaking directly to your mind via Sending:

Sir Gregory. I hope everything is fine. Please attend the SMC event on my behalf. I am unable to attend myself and need a representative.

You heard about this a few days ago. The Skylarios Metalworks Corporation, pioneers of the Industrial Revolution in Halmathan and a powerhouse in their own right extended an invitation to all the major players in the City. Something about a new marvel for a City that some claim has already too many.


@Daun: Lady Silvarel is gone off again.

Glenndale Park is home to not only a huge druid and Ehlonnian community, but also the races that predated the City itself, who make their homes in the deepest reaches of this natural preserve. Beings, some would say, not too different from the gods of old, before Man built their lofty cathedrals. It is in those untamed reaches that Lady Silvarel heads to in order to find some sort of Communion with the old spirits, as some like to claim. Whatever her motives. Who she meets... nobody knows, but her absence can take several days. In some cases, a full month.

Of course, the Church of Ehlonna isn't deprived of a leader- not that druids cannot handle themselves. They can, but spiritual guidance is always needed:

In The Lady of the Resting Meadow's absence, Vicar Amelia, a priestess of considerable reputation and aligned with The Healing Church of Halmathan takes as acting High Priestess. This is only a temporary post, though- the Grand Eight of Halmathan are the undisputed religious leaders, but some churches, being so big in scope, require additional help from members within their own clergy that have attained the power and responsibility to hold it.

Vicar Amelia is said to have been one of those the Church of Ehlonna sent along with The Helguard on one of their expeditions. What transpired during those forays is not known. It isn't known why she returned with her eyes bandaged either. Some say she gouged them out herself, but that's a morbid and most implausible explanation.

She isn't talking about it either. What is being talked about as you and T'nauri relax under the wide shade of a poplar tree is your most recent public disturbance by tying yourself to a tree over at the newly built Green Meadows Apartment complex in Hope's Caress. A luxury housing project built by The Ashford family.

How true it is that people need houses to live, but come on... more? And the name- Green Meadows. Cynical to the core, since they plan to pave a perfectly nice patch of land. Of course, the architect showed you the plans:

Miss... we aren't going to cit down ALL the trees. Look! Lord Ashford wants trees here and here and...

Diplomacy ended abruptly when T'nauri decided to make a snack out of the architect's plans and everything went downhill from there. Your voice was heard, make no mistake about it, but in the end, it was legally acquired land and this time, the papers were waved from a prudent distance from your companion.

All this is recounted by your former mentor and comrade in arms Eari Blackroot, who pets T'nauri as he munches on a patch of leaves and reads a letter sent to Glenndale from who else, but your beloved mother:

"I think you really pushed her buttons this time, Daun! I can even sense the wrath in the penmanship. Have a look."

Spoiler: Letter to Daun

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Daun,

Inquisitor Donovan has put me and your father up to speed regarding your latest "crusade".

Must I remind you that you are a Tersetti? One of the finest families in this City, young lady. The Ashfords are close and powerful acquaintances of ours. I will NOT have your behavior mar the hard work your father has put into making our name fall into Halmathan's good graces. Be thankful that the Ashfords are willing to look the other way, but I am not that forgiving.

I have been complacent and accepting of your lifestyle for a very long time. Today, Lord Skylarios has invited us to the unveiling of his newest product. This invitation extends to our entire family. This includes you.

I want you at the SMC offices in your best attire and behavior, young lady. You will behave like a Tersetti and dress like one. You will not bring that... pet of yours either.

Don't be late.

Love,

Mother

Eari sits beside you and watches a single leaf gently fall down on her hand.

"So what will you do?""



@Kalir: Another day patrolling the skies of Halmathan:

How do humans manage to build something so big? And such tall towers to boot- without the means of flight? It is true that many in the Royal Guard have mastered the trick of flying. This is done through arcane means, but in the end, they can't fly all day long and so, it is your duty to keep a safe vigil around the Royal Palace and The Royal district, where the Cathedral of St. Cuthbert, Pelor, Heironeous and the imposing Tower of Commerce dedicated to Moquol are located.

Parishioners can be seen entering and leaving the various churches already. The din of bells resounding all over the City and proclaiming mass. Chances are the Kordites are holding their own mass today, which usually involves Bhagazzin getting drunk and wrestling the devout until they say Uncle... as a true Kordite should.

Having a literal Bird's Eye view is a godsend- crimes happen in this City. It is unavoidable. Petty theft is common when people walk around with heavy purses, but that's why The City Guard patrols the streets below and the Royal Guard- a faction that you proudly belong to- doesn't really have need for any lesser...

And then you spot someone down in the Royal Barracks waving a flag, a sign for you to descend as you keen your eyes and roll them as you land gracefully on the training grounds and face the man that waved the flag at you:

Halmathan's Pretty Boy, sergeant Maxil Trentis, the aasimar paladin. This guy is pretty much the poster boy for paladins everywhere. Never at the scale of Captain Ludwig, of course. That guy is a legend, but Sergeant Trentis has become a figure that many within the Royal Guard aspire to become... and the small rivalry between both is not something that has gone unnoticed by him as Maxil salutes you in military fashion and puts the flag down.

"Kalir Kalaan! It is good to see you. His Majesty King Airdan will be attending an event today. I have been tasked with putting up together a squad of security for his Highness.

As you know, King Airdan can be... difficult to supervise. I am counting that you can help this event go smoothly by keeping an eye on him.""

Maxil eyes you up and down and gives an about face.

"Unless you wish to object to this order?"


@Ilven: Another perfect shot.

The City has rewarded you well. A lifetime paid for accommodations in the City. Not the best place, but they did give you a small courtyard with several wooden dummies to hone your archery skills. The badge of honor of The Helguard hangs over your mantle. Blood stains it, but that is a rite of passage...

If only you could remember what from? It has been a long time, after all. Even for an elf.

Still, life is good. The Selma legacy continues on in your son and your grand daughter Daisy, an aspiring neophyte tutored in the arts of the Divine under the tutelage of The Healing Church.

Your Blade Guide is by your side, of course. An ancestor of the Selma line who was granted permission by The Pantheon of Elven gods to watch and teach you. Although in the end, it can be argued it's the other way around...

And then by reflex, you aim your bow at the door as this one shakes a bit and your senses come back before you lower the arrow and watch Callum walk in with a handful of papers in his hand.

"Father... it's me. You gave me the keys to your place? It's okay. You can put the bow down. I came to check on you and it seems you haven't been picking up your mail.""

Callum is still dressed in the City Guard armor. Rather fancy for foot soldiers and semi trained cavalry, but he has shown your cunning with a blade and a bow... or so he says.

The young soldier boils some water for tea as you hone in your archery skills and lets you know about his day.

"...sure, many say Captain Wulfur is a hard ass. I am not denying that, but rarely have I seen someone inspire his men in the way he does. And you know, elves and orcs...even half orcs? He breaks the whole stereotype. I asked him once why he never joined The Royal Guard...or even the...""

Callum's train of thought drifts off as he checks the mail for you and reads the cover several times for a particularly old looking envelope before placing it on the table next to you.

That's The Helguard insignia. Nobody sends a letter with it, unless...

Spoiler: Letter to Ilvan

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Ilvan,

I trust this letter finds you well. I am sadly unable to greet you and the rest of my Spartans face to face as I promised so long ago.

It is with a heavy heart that I must call a Kindness upon you- his Majesty and this City needs us now more than ever. Protect them. They need our help and you are the only one I can count on now... that I can rely upon.

This will be the last letter I send, young Helguard. I pray it reaches your hands and eyes only.

Yours in Honor and Blood,

Ludwig

@Camus: Thing scurries about the polished marble floor as you check your many grimoires and compare them to your notes and diaries, reflecting upon the words uttered a few days ago when asked to be made Grand Abjurer at Runestone:

Camus Shatris, we recognize indeed your power as an Abjurer and bestow upon you the title of Archmage. Your hard work and extensive dedication to the Arcane Arts cannot be ignored in that regard.

Likewise, we cannot ignore your failed experiment which cost the life of Amarille Shatris. As an arcane community, we understand the value of experimentation. We do not, however, condone unethical procedures. Particularly when these jeopardize lives. We are gifted with enormous power and we must use it wisely.

It is because of this, that we have decided to not grant you the position of Grand Abjurer at Runestone. That title will go now to Maester Itharr Griswold.

That is all.


Itharr Griswold?! A human? The outrage, deeply contained, does not go unnoticed by your familiar who cowers in a corner of your lab as a light knock is heard at the door before The Grand Abjurer himself walks cautiously in:

"Hello, Camus. I am not here to gloat- let it be known that I asked the Council to place you as Grand Maester. When it comes to Abjuration, clearly you are peerless. However, as flexible as Runestone is in some areas, it remains quite rigid in others. And I will not go into depth regarding that...""


Itharr eyes Thing in the corner and shakes his head as he places an envelope on the table next to you.

"The Skylarios Metalworks Corporation are having an event today. They asked me to attend, as a representative of the Academy. We did after all, help fund that company.

But my new job requires me to remain here. So, I suggested your name. And this has been approved. Be our voice out there, Camus."

[Chimaera]

The outrage! How could they be so dim-sighted? Bunch of old fools, ALL OF THEM!

Camus read the letter a few times as if hoping the words would rearrange themselves and... No. There was no mistake. They clearly cant see what really happened: he was sabotaged! Maybe Markus Ashcroft and his savage in wizard's robes were behind it or maybe Itharr himself schemed to have his experiment fail. Of course... He problably set him up so that he was picked as Grand Abjurer! The fool.

The whole room was being illuminated by purple light coming out from his hands, as he folded the letter over and over unconsciously. A viper, for they were all traitorous imbecile!

Or maybe Itharr wasnt the one who blame... Damned be the night he helped that malconvoker! Maybe it was work of Abaraxis, that awful fiend he summoned. He sure smelled sulfur and... No. That was just the letter-turned-snake slowly burning away before it turned to ashes.

Even this far away, Camus could feel Thing's terror. Stop it. What was he doing? All these years honing his patience and composure for this? He must be looking like a damn savage now. Calm down, just breath and...

Knock knock knock

Archmage Camus isnt really happy in having any guests right now. Even Thing was in risk of being disintegrated right now. Hopefully it is not Kaylin and her nonsense. Taking a deep breath, Camus does his best to open the door instead of outright blasting whoever was on the other side to... Well, the Other Side. A shame he didnt.

"Grand Maester Griswold", he says giving the man a short bow, as would be expected for a man with that title, "Excuse me if I'm not that enthusiastic about that", he says waving the smoking pile of ashes out of existance before the other archmage notice it, "And I see you already got your hands full with your new job", clear anger in his voice, "And, sure. Some time away from Runestone might be exactly what I need".

He takes the invitation and look at Griswold, "But remember I'm not your errand boy. Thing, to me".
The brown and white weasel is quick to dart across the room and climb his master's vests, finding refuge on one of the many pockets.

He is about to teleport out of the place to put a great distance away from his colleague, but close his eyes and exhale. He was acting like a brute, letting his emotions overflow in such a pathetic show. He's about to say something kind before he swallow them back to his stomach. Instead he ask him a simple question.

"Does this invitation allow some company?", he ask followed by an unsettling one, "And how are old are you again, Maester?"

[AlanBruce]

@Camus: A room full of wizards...and none that can use their brain in the right way!

You are an archmage! And a grey elven one at that! Runestone is said to have been founded by one just as you. What stops you from walking out to campus, straight towards the Tower of Magi and displaying the true power of a wizard?

Hell, this City looks at you in complacent reverence. It is high time that everyone looked up in utter fear! To manipulate power at the scale you wield, enough to turn this town inside out and mold it to your own will. Not unlike a god...!

...

....


......


... but let us perish such dark thoughts. You are better than that. Way better. Inhale and exhale. Itharr is an abjurer of considerable power, yes. Probably on par with you...

But he's human. And he's old. Humans don't live long. Their lifetime is barely your adolescence. Griswold may not be out there fighting like a savage, but Time claims everyone.

Some sooner than others.

Once Itharr is in your chambers, the Master Abjurer clears his throat at your words.

"I am not enthusiastic about it, either. Between us, I would have rather kept a teaching position. And if it helps, you would not want this job- it is rather boring. A lot of paperwork. Reviewing applicants...

Nothing out of the ordinary. And I need to stay in Runestone all the time, so there's that. I do agree with you that fresh air is needed. Staying cramped inside in study is good for the mind...to a degree. And it never crossed my mind to make you an errand boy. You are an archmage, Camus. A respected member of the arcane community and Halmathan as a whole.

As for the invitation, it includes a guest. Your familiar should be just fine. And if not, I doubt they will give you any trouble. They are expecting a well respected member of Runestone to show up. An ambassador, if you will. Very diplomatic in essence. So that's it, then, well... I have to get back to the Tower and...""

Itharr Griswold is about to leave your room when he raises a bushy eyebrow.

"Sixty five...why?""

[El'the Ellie]

Daun scoffs as she listens to Eari read the letter, somewhere between actual humor and indignation. She stands up and paces with the letter in her hands.

"Can you believe her! 'I am not that forgiving'? Who does she think she is? 'Accepting of my lifestyle'? Please!"

She sits back down a moment later, petting T'nauri on the nose. "What would you do T'nauri? Smash the whole factory? Somehow I think that won't end well. I'm not sure Eari... What should I care if SMC has some stupid new contraption? I'm sure I'll see it soon enough clogging up the streets or whatever."

She pulls a few poplar seed pods out of her hair, thinking. "Wait... This thing's going to happen whether I'm there or not. I suppose I can get a pretty good look at whatever this is, right? Maybe even see how it works... Who knows, hopefully whatever it is won't be a problem for Hamalthan but if it is... Well, more information never hurts, right?"

She runs a hand through her hair again. "They want to have a fancy night with stuck up lordlings and such? Fine, I can acquiesce for an evening. T'nauri, looks like you get a night off. I'd love to bring you with, but the rich folk are scared of big dinosaurs. Be good to Eari." She says the last bit with a small smile. "Well, I suppose if I'm going to be rubbing elbows I might as well look the part."

Spoiler

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Wild Shape

In a twist of divine magic, Daun's body contorts and transforms into the shape of a jet black raven. With a few powerful flaps she takes to the skies of Hamalthan. She does a few lazy circles around the area, enjoying the bird's excellent vision and watching the people far below. I wonder if they all know how small we all look down there from a bird. I wonder if I could show everyone. Perhaps it would get us all to stop squabbling and plotting for once. Just sit and listen. But not today. Today this bird flies back to the cage to see what others are up to.

She descends after a time, flying through the city streets until she finds the Tersetti estate. She bombs across the grounds, around back to the window in her bedroom that she always left ajar: for ease of access in bird form and quiet slipping in and out without having to deal with others. She may be attending tonight, but she didn't want her folks to know that until the last moment. Let them wonder and worry.

[AlanBruce]

@Daun: Eari remains seated and chuckles as you pace back and forth, letter in hand, while T' Nauri eats another bushel of grass and follows you around with his gaze, not sure what's going on, but your mentor certainly does.

"Your mother certainly has a way with words, doesn't she? I have yet to meet your mother, but given what you have spoken about her, well... I am perfectly fine here in Glenndale. And you are a royal, Daun! Yes, you have followed the path of the Natural World, but men and this City are, in a way, nature too.

I know that sounds contradictory, but druidism is about Balance. In this case, a balance between this life you have chosen and the one you left behind. Reconcile both and who knows- you may find your center. Besides, it's only one night. You get to see your family again and well, Halmathan's big wigs. The... 'captains of industry, rulers of their own little world of gears and cogs'.

I will keep T'Nauri safe...or it is the other way around? Seriously, who'd pick a fight with him? Maybe even go see Vicar Amelia and ask about Lady Silvarel. Hopefully she can tell me when she's coming back from her retreat.

Happy flying."

Taking a few steps away from both elf and dino, you call on the inner powers that only a druid of your caliber can muster and immediately your body suffers a rapid and drastic transition, with your hair turning in black feathers and your face quickly and- to an outsider- painfully melding into a beak as your feet turn into tiny claws and off you fly out of Glenndale and towards the Nessus Estate.

Now this place houses some of the richest families in the City. Names linked to power and prestige abound, as do their places of residence, but the Nessus Estate is a gated community in Halmathan's east side, across the Via Purifica, a river that runs across Halmathan and has its origins in Bella Laguna, in Glenndale Park.

Many say the Via Purifica is sacred. It's a river with a religious sounding name, and as a result it is customary for baptisms to take place on its shores, for those who don't want to have a very large (and very expensive) ceremony at the churches. So people of lower income ask lower ranking priests to officiate their newborns here. The City has no problems with that.

The problem is that it is a City and littering and Cities go hand in hand. Even in a river such as this one. So baptizing children in polluted waters may not be the wisest thing. Of course you and many other druids have marshaled against it. The City has assured your community that they will look into it and now and then you will find the river clean... but you can't spend resources all the time cleaning up something that people by default, see as a trash bin.

Signs are posted up, of course, asking people not to litter. And for the most part, they seem to work, especially when fines are brought up.

So many people below. All of them unaware that you are flying free as a bird, straight to a gilded cage. In retrospect, it may be a good idea to see what the Skylarios are up to with their new reveal. Already, a few of those mechanical abominations called "cars" have begun showing up in the streets, trailing fumes that blot the clean skies.

The SMC says that this is Halmathan's future. If that is the case, they can store that vision of theirs back in the scrap pile where the sun don't shine.

And speaking of the sun, it is getting a nice orange color to it by the time you swoop down towards the Tersetti Estate:

Let it be known that father definitely likes to live big and show it off. A lot of religious motifs spread throughout the streets, since the churches have a lot of influence on the infrastructure and many of the rich families have chapels of their own, with priests living in the house. These are usually priests and nuns of The Healing Church, to provide much needed communion and any kind of assistance to the body, something the Healing Church excels at.

As you swoop down towards the window, left ajar on purpose just for your raven form to go in, something seems to catch your attention.

Spoiler: The Check

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Roll a Spot

[Taelas]

Gregory looks at the flower Julienne is showing him, and he smiles wanly at her. He glances down at the ring, and the smile turns melancholic, before he pulls himself together as Maria greets him.

"As ever, your gracious presence eases a troubled mind, Lady Maria," Gregory responds, giving a stiff bow. "Halmathan fares well." He never has been one for small talk.

He walks along with her, nodding in thought. "Hope is rarely truly false," he muses with a soft sigh. "My mother wishes for me to remarry, but I have told her no more times than I can quite recall." He glances in Julienne's direction, over his shoulder. "It is about the fami-" Gregory cuts off, as he receives the sending.

He stands still for a moment before replying in a like manner: "As you wish, High Inquisitor. This is concerning their new 'marvel', I presume. I shall give a thorough account of it and what it does."

He apologizes to Lady Maria for the interruption. "My presence is required elsewhere, Lady Maria," he says with another bow. "I shall have to cut my visit today short. Please continue to care for Julienne as excellently as you always have."

[AlanBruce]

@Gregory: Julienne always did like flowers.

It is difficult, even for a man who proudly bears the burden of The Law upon his shoulders, not to vacillate if only for a fleeting moment upon better times. When all that mattered at the end of the day was to go home, kiss your wife and children. Sit down for a nice meal...

Tell old jokes at the table and then put the kids to sleep. Rinse and repeat. That kind of monotony isn't bad. Desired even, especially when it is stricken off your life in the manner it was.

Lady Maria walks beside you and it becomes apparent:

She is not really that tall. Considering that you wear heavy armor and have the blessings of Cuthbert on you at all times, Lady Maria might as well be a feeble reed next to you. But she was a member of the Helguard. And although you have never seen them in action, they were considered Halmathan's elite forces for a long time.

Having said that, Lady Maria is retired. Who knows if her skill with a blade is up to par with yours or anyone back in the City. This is not necessarily because of the chance to duel her, but she is in charge of an asylum that also serves as a prison. Security at the gates is sound, but the asylum area is not exactly teeming with guards. Perhaps the patients here are indeed becoming more and more docile thanks to her care.

"We all do what we must, Sir Gregory. And I can understand if you do not wish to expand on Halmathan:

It was a formality, nothing else. I do not see myself going back there anytime soon. Not while there are people here under my care. As for your vows regarding marriage...""

Lady Maria looks back at the patients, with Julienne among them and stops as a guard leads you to the outer courtyard where Galavant awaits.

"That is a decision you must take. Be well, Sir Gregory and worry not- Julienne is in good hands. We await your return come next Sunday.""

Lady Maria bows again and turns her back to you, heading towards her private chambers atop St. Noria's tallest tower, from where she is said to watch over the entire castello.

The soldiers at the castle already know the score:

Feed Galavant.

Brush his mane, if requested by you.

And keep him in the cleanest possible stable. This and no less, is the best these file and rank soldiers can do to be in good graces with one of Halmathan's highest ranking inquisitors, after all.

The portcullis is lowered and off you ride with your faithful steed through the dirt road filled with cart tracks. Recent too. There must've been people sent to the Castello...and most likely not seeking Hospice.

Once at the City's North Gate, the guards immediately recognize you and of course, allow you swift entry. It doesn't take long to ride through the streets of the City as the sun hangs low and deep orange as a few lamp posts are being lit along the streets before you reach Cuthbert's Cathedral:

An intimidating temple when compared to the others in the City, but the reasoning behind it is somewhat sound:

This is the House of the Law, where Inquisitors pass Judgement fairly, but harshly. This cathedral has stood in the City for hundreds of years and is a testament that the Law is not to be broken, lest you end in this place. High Inquisitor Calchis has earned the monicker of "The Compassionate Cudgel", seeing as how he has attempted to be a tad more flexible with the way he handles lawlessness.

Still, the Cathedral of Cuthbert is not due for a face lift anytime soon as you dismount Galavant and enter the hallowed halls, decorated with stern looking angel statues carrying either swords, the Scales of Justice, or both.

And it is in the Room of Law, seated on a simple wooden chair several feet above the amphitheater were the guilty are tried that the High Inquisitor gets up with a grunt as he winces and regains his composure:

"Good to see you, Gregory. Help this old man come down these stairs, please...""

A flight of stairs would not be a problem for you, but Inquisitor Calchis is old in years. When you were taken in to the Cudgel's faith, he already was an aged judge. This has not improved as your immense bulk make it much easier for the old man to get downstairs from his wooden chair and he holds on to your arm for support.

"I trust you went to see Julienne? I hope she is doing well. We made sure the Castello would care for those who...""

Calchis looks up at you and digs into his pockets, taking out a scroll.

"...on to the matter at hand, then. Lord Bardak Skylarios has extended an invitation to all the heads of church and families of import in the City. Some new marvel, as you must've guessed sardonically over the Sending.

I am not feeling too good this evening to attend and not going would not be seen well by the City as a whole. Thankfully we can as Church Leaders, send our representatives. And so, I would like you to represent us.

This scroll is your invitation. The SMC is located in Hope's Caress District. Not too far if you ride Galavant. You still have a few hours to prepare, since it's a formal evening gala. yet another reason for me to pass on it.

Will you be requiring security? That can be provided. Not really for your well being- I can attest you can handle yourself rather well. It's more of a protocol issue, but I doubt they will mind, since the number of guests is rather small."

[Chimaera]

"Just out of curiosity...", he says as his rage are slowly quenched by Itharr's words "I'm sorry. Congratulations, my friend".

The words leave a bitter aftertaste in his mouth "If you have the time to, please stay and let's have some tea".

He offer him a seat and start a fire to boil some water before taking a seat himself, "Just need to write a small message for a pesky one".

Archmage Camus grab a small piece of sheet and write in an elegant caligraphy.

Spoiler: Letter to Kaylin

Show

"My presence was required at some gala of sorts and since I would promised to give you a tour to the City I think it would be nice to take you along. Maybe you can even see the King himself.

Answer as soon as possible.

He finish the letter and seal it with wax and his signet ring.

"Thing", he call the weasel from his pocket, "Deliver this to Kaylin", he says tying it to the weasel and then turning to Itharr, "Tea?"

[Cavir]

It was a breezy cloudy day down among the streets below, but above the tallest spires of the Royal District the winds blew hard. Kalir the raptoran had his wings fully spread and the winds kept him aloft without effort. Birds instinctively adjust to sudden winds without thought. Kalir's adjustments were just as instinctive but those fine adjustments were something he studied of himself. Being aware and intimate with his environment in the air and on the ground made great differences when avoiding an attack or slipping his own attack through an opponent's defenses. Brute strength helped but skill mattered so much more. That was something that had been drilled into him during his formal training, his own self study over the years, and he had drilled that into students at the Blooming Lotus.

Kalir slowly circled the Royal District, deep in thought while he kept his eyes relaxed to notice anything out of the usual. Many below were in taking part in masses. He kept watch on his city from above so they could practice their faiths in peace.

His eyes caught the flag waving from the Royal Barracks. Even with the altitude the raptoran could tell who was waving it just from their efficient powerful moving form. Kalir rolled over into a tight spiraling dive. As he reached the top of the spires he widened the spiral to slow his descent. He lands gently on his feet in front of the sergeant. He nods in respect to the greeting.

"An order? No need. A simple request is enough. When, where, and who else is expected?"

[Taelas]

Gregory bids Lady Maria farewell and gives a brief nod to the soldiers tending to Galavant.

He urges Galavant to speed with his heels, and he arrives at the North Gate in good time. The paladin acknowledges each of the guards, then spurs on through the City, riding at a much more sedate pace within the walls.

At the Cathedral, Gregory takes a moment to look up at the highest towers. He enjoys the stark austerity, and appreciates the view, as is his habit.

Within the Room of Law, Gregory quickly walks over to assist the aging High Inquisitor.

Though he hides it well, a brief shadow of impatience crosses his face when Calchis speaks of Julienne. His weekly visits are hardly a secret, but he does not enjoy conversing on the matter.

He listens attentively when the High Inquisitor moves on to the matter at hand, and he nods as appropriately throughout. He takes the scroll when offered. "No, I will not require security," he assures the old man, touching the symbol of St Cuthbert hanging from around his neck. "Our Lord's blessing is more than sufficient, and I will make sure they are satisfied with my attendance. There is no need to inconvenience others on my account."

[aReallyGreatAxe]

Ilvan snatches up the envelope as soon as Callum's fingertips leave. He looks at it for a moment, turning it over to peer at the other side as if this was some sort of joke. But who would joke about the Helguard?

He flips it open and reads, his brows drawing together into lines of worry even as his pulse starts to thrum with excitement. It would've been enough to know he was remembered, but trusted? Still, these were heavy words, and implied that either the Captain was in too tense a situation for further communication or- unbidden, the half-remembered faces of the commanding officers he'd outlived through his long career sprang to his mind.

No, Captain Ludwig seemed like he'd remain Captain until the very stones of the city crumbled to dust, human heritage be damned, Ilvan thinks wryly, a touch of envy marring the respect. Still, the letter was awfully cryptic. Whatever trouble the Captain had found, he hadn't given so much as a single detail, beyond that there was a threat and he could not contact the Captain about it. Perhaps Keras would know what was going on, or Callum-

Suddenly, he remembers his son's presence in the room. "I pray it reaches your hands and eyes only." Ilvan folds the letter carefully into quarters, then eighths, and slips it into a pocket. But simply removing the physical evidence wouldn't do, surely Callum would still be wondering. "Just an old friend." He lies, badly. Or is it really a lie? While he would never dare count someone as important as the Captain as a friend... Maybe colleague was closer? "Colleague." He corrects. Much better. Less untrue.

He picks up his cup of tea and returns attention to his son, casting around for the thread of the conversation before finding it again.
"In any case, this Captain Wulfur sounds like a decent sort. I've heard he's a lot harder to bribe than the man I served under when I was in your position, at least. Well, nothing was ever proven, but people talk." He says this last with some authority, trying to remember what, exactly, the people had talked about. It was bribery, right? Or had that been the man's successor? It had been too long to tell. The pause stretches on for an instant too long before Ilvan continues. "You were saying that there was trouble in the city?" Ilvan knew full well that Callum had been saying nothing of the sort. But he had to find out what the Captain had meant somehow, and perhaps Callum would excuse the ramblings of an old man.

[El'the Ellie]

Spoiler

Show

I can certainly edit this if spot check reveals something.

Daun never does something half way: if she is to go to this SMC gala event, then she'll be looking the part as well. Besides, she may prefer the more free life of Glenndale, but she's not completely out of touch. She's a woman in her early twenties: she likes drawing eyes as much as anyone else on occasion.

True, it's been some time since she's had a good reason to dress up, although her folks would be quick to point out any number of fancy dinners and gatherings she had passed on. That doesn't really mean she didn't enjoy it: in truth, she mostly just found the other noble folk more exhausting than anything else at nights like this. If nothing else, it would be a change of pace. Shifting back into her human form, she looks around at her room. Still more or less the way she left it, albeit nearly pristine from the maid cleaning it some time ago.

Landscape paintings cover the walls around a four post bed: art, strangely enough, was one of the few things Daun and her mother could see eye to eye on. A small zoo of stuffed animals sat in the corner as they had for years. Daun had given up the toys for the real things in Glenndale years ago, but the tigers, bears, birds and so on still held memories between their fraying stitches.

She turned her attention to the walk-in closet across from her bed. Daun certainly didn't lack for options tonight. Beyond her day-to-day clothes in front was an array of dresses, many unworn, suitable for just this sort of night. She glanced at them as she passed by, eventually her eyes freezing on one out of place from the rest: a wedding dress, pristinely kept in it's case, patiently waiting. The sight of it filled Daun with... what? Frustration, fear, guilt. She hadn't actually expected her parents to get rid of it, but did it need to hang in the air like a shadow? She shoots the piece of clothing an accusatory as if it's somehow responsible for her reaction, then ignores it and starts pulling items off the wall.

She quickly started to assemble her attire for the evening: a maroon colored bertha neckline dress, a similarly colored lace flounce corset over chemisette. Daun couldn't really stand the crinolines that others wore: she didn't mind so much the more restricting clothes (if anything should happen, taking the wild shape of some creature would solve that issue), it was the look that was so rigid and silly, Daun thought it made the woman look like a bell or cake or something. Instead hers had a natural silhouette, with a bit of white accent running down the side. She traded her items of power for jewelry: a pearl necklace and earrings. She may be playing nice at the gala tonight, but she could still reflect the natural world. No stone is half so beautiful as what mother nature hath wrought.
After a bit of frustrating brushing and wrestling with her hair, she put it up in a twisted curl behind her head, held in place with some wooden pins and adding a dark colored rose she had borrowed on her flight over that matched the dress color. When her flurry of changing was finished, she took a moment to look in the mirror. With a sigh she realized her parents were partly right: she could have been good at this sort of thing if she had wanted. Or maybe that was just years of classes forced upon her that had left some impact.

Satisfied, she once again called on the druidic magics to shift into a blackbird, and flew out into the evening light towards the gala.

[AlanBruce]

@Daun: It is normal for you to be flying around in raven form over your family's neighborhood...

But what about others with similar ideas? The steam rises from several chimney stalks on ornate rooftops adjacent to the Tersetti manor and although it would be impossible to tell from the street, your aerial view allows you to distinguish a faint outline hiding in the smoke itself, perched on the roof.

Whether it is a man, woman or otherwise... who knows.


@Camus: Thing twitches its nose and bites into the letter as you send him off to fetch Kaylin.

Your cousin may be a few decades younger than you, but makes it up for it by being an immense arrogant nag. One has to wonder where she got it from. I mean, she is a Grey Elf like you, true. Her skills in the arcane are of course subpar... I mean, archmages do not grow on trees, now do they?

Still, your family paid for your education here in Runestone. Arrogant people walk all over the place in Halmathan, so she should be just fine. Besides, casters are held in high regard in the City of Power. Many are recognized outside of Runestone, reason why you are attending a very important event.

Who knows, perhaps you might even get to see the good king Airdan. A kordite and, if the stories are to be believed...a savage, just like most of the mundane masses here. But a blue blooded savage, nonetheless. A rarity on its own.

Griswold checks his pocket watch, studded with ancient runes and grabs a chair while Thing scampers past him to deliver the note.

"I have yet to renounce a good cup of tea, Camus. And thank you for the recognition. It means a lot to me.""

Itharr smells the tea and closes his eyes, allowing his senses to take the scents in.

"Magnificent! Are these herbs from Glenndale? Do I sense a hint of Hibiscus? And if you don't mind me asking:

Why name your familiar Thing? I just find it odd. Glimmer stated his name outright once I summoned him to be my life long familiar. Chances are he will outlive me. Perhaps you might want to consider giving your weasel a proper name? Just a suggestion, of course.""

Whether you deign to answer your choices to name your ferret or not, Runestone's Grand Abjurer takes a sip of his tea and carefully places the tea cup on the table as he rummages through his robes, searching for something.

"Tonight, you will be seeing a lot of Halmathan's elite. Not only Heads of Church, which all will most likely attend. His majesty will be there, of course. But there are two people you need to speak to in particular.

One is Lord Bardak Skylarios, founder of the SMC. His family has members of their own tied to Runestone and so, it was a great opportunity for some of our finest casters to work at his company. As you may already know, they have begun heavy work into automation. Most likely constructs. We want you to assess what he is working on. Be discrete about it, however. Lord Bardak is no fool and likes to keep his work secretive.""

Itharr hands you a set of scrolls protected by black metal cases and places them on the table.

"Camus, these are not to be opened until given to either Lord Bardak or his equally powerful associate, Lord Edward Ashford. The Skylarios may boast to have casters of renown locally come out these gates, but the Ashfords have....""

Itharr's pocket watch begins to glow and the old abjurer looks at it as he gets up and bows to you.

"I am sorry- my presence is needed at the Tower of Magi. Please deliver those documents and under no circumstance must they be opened until given to their rightful recipient. This is an order from the Council itself.

Have a good day, Archmage Camus...and have fun tonight.""

And like your previous idea, Itharr places his hands together and lowers his head as the air around him turns into a white aura and in a flash, he's gone. A Greater Teleport spell. Nothing less to be expected from him.


@Kalir: Although a small community of raptorans from a different tribe than yours have made their home here recently- as in the last year, they are still getting acquainted to the City. Fledglings born as first generation raptorans tend to be a lot more daring than their foreign parents. As a result, accidents have transpired when a few decided to test their gliding skills by leaping from high rises in Halmathan.

This went as well as could be expected. Thankfully, the Healing Church was more than eager to tend to these young ones. Whether you maintain a close relationship to this flock, that is up to you. Right now, you have a far more important task at hand as Sergeant Maxil nods in approval.


"A simple request it is then. His Majesty will be leaving the Royal Palace with an escort of twelve guards on horseback. I have been told he will be stopping at Pelor's Cathedral and the Temple of the Valorous, since Highfather Jace and Sir Randolph Brunhausser will be accompanying him. To the event.

The Guards assigned are decently trained, but we rather not take any risks. Better safe than sorry. You still have a few hours to prepare. Be at his Majesty's side at all times. Don't let him off your sight.

That will be all.""


@Gregory: Inquisitor Calchis knows best to not touch on such delicate subject, but in his old age, it must've slipped off, something he has caught immediately and as a result, changed the topic of conversation.

"Why am I not surprised? A proud paladin of the Cudgel through and through. And perhaps the finest inquisitor to have graced these hallowed halls. That is fine- you can attend the event alone- it will draw no negative attention from any guests there. You represent St. Cuthbert, after all.""

Calchis pats your armored hand with his own wrinkled one and yawns as a couple of Cuthbertine guards escort the old man to his chambers for an early and much needed rest.

"Take your time, Gregory. You still have a few hours left before the gala. Put on your best inquisitor attire and have fun. Who knows what the SMC has cooked up this time. Have a nice evening, son.""


And so, Calchis is gone. You could show up in your armor, or you could don the traditional black and green trimmed robes with a jeweled Cudgel embroidered on the right sleeve, a sign of high rank within the church. You should have one gifted to you a few years back in your room. Just a matter of dusting it off and...

And then the sounds of metal boots echoing on the marble floor as a pair of neophytes bearing the symbol of your god stop a few paces from you and pant, catching their breath as they realize who you are and kneel, not unlike serfs to its king.

"Inquisitor Gregory! A thousand apologies! We did not mean to run around the cathedral like that, but they brought someone that needs to be tried. The culprit is outside, heavily restrained.

Shall we call on High Inquisitor Calchis?""

Now you could go bother the man, but he seemed exhausted. In his absence, the role of Judge falls to the next high ranking inquisitor in the church and right now, that honorable title would fall upon you.

Of course, you may not seat at the wooden chair Calchis used in the Room of Law. The cathedral has many smaller courtrooms that deal with day to day cases.

And since Cuthbert admonishes swift Judgement, you should still have plenty of time to deal with this and attend the event.


@Ilvan: How you wish this were a joke.

Nobody outside the Helguard has access to this symbol. Not even the King hismelf. Ludwig the Holy Blade, getting in touch with you after so many years...

For some reason, it is hard for you to remember his face. So many expeditions, so many men and women lost out there, fighting Beasts. But what little snippets of memory course back to you like a bloody flood remind you all too well of the tasks assigned.

Retirement was given to all those that returned with Captain Ludwig from the last expedition. In hindsight, Atonement would have been better... but atonement for what? This was mentioned by someone in your company, but who and why?

And now Captain Ludwig, Halmathan's Holy Blade asks you to protect this City. What happened? Why isn't he coming forward? You have outlived many of the Helguard. Be it because they died valiantly in battle... or some simply decided to fade into obscurity.

One is said to now act as caretaker in the old castle, but she is as distant to you now as your connection with Callum before the tea cup is placed on the table next to you and you finish folding the letter eightfold and storing it in your own person.

"A colleague? From the Helguard? You should totally get together, father! The Helguard are a very respected Order in the City, even if they have gone inactive for quite some time. Getting back to see old faces...

Perhaps that may cheer you up. Get you out of this place. Retell the old stories which you never shared with me.""

Callum quickly realizes the folly of his words and stands at attention like a soldier.

"Apologies, sir! I spoke out of place.""

That training has paid off. A soldier through and through, just like you. Perhaps one day he might even rise to fill the ranks of the Royal Guard, but right now, other topics pique your interest as Callum takes his seat back and sips the tea.

"Captain Wulfur is said to have never taken a single copper as bribe. I wish I could say the same for the rest of the Guard. As for what's happening around?

There's talk of a mad man out in the streets. Preys for his victims at night. We are keeping this case as tight as possible- we don't want to raise panic. We will find this psychopath and arrest him. He should be an easy target.

And earlier today, well...take a look.""

Callum removes his breast plate and shows you a bloody bandage across his stomach. the blood has coagulated, but as a result, has dyed the bandage red.

"It was ten of us. We were given a tip about a hunter gone rogue. We don't know if she was a Hunter from the old Scourge Days, but we took the advice and prepared accordingly. We pinpointed her location at a warehouse in Rashema's Marina. We geared up appropriately and set out to ambush her...

We should have known that these so called "Hunters" earned that title for a reason. Whether it was one, I could not tell. But she took down two of our team within seconds. Fought like a Frenzied Fiend. I have seen all manner of fighting skills before, but this was at a different level. We cordoned the entire block before, anticipating collateral damage...and a good thing we did.

In the end, we lost five good men to her, but through team tactics, we managed to knock her out, shackle her...

And she should be in High Inquisitor Calchis' presence right now. End report.""

Callum puts armor back on and taps his stomach, where the wound was.

"This is only cosmetic, father. I stopped by the Church of the Good Chalice and Mary treated my wounds. They really live up to their name, I must say. Now, if you'll excuse, I must return to my post.

Go and see your old friends- beats staying in all the time."

[Chimaera]

Camus is somewhat happy that Itharr accepted his apology.

"You're correct. Seen like the time spent on dusty libraries didnt ruined your nose", he says drinking from his cup, "I was never good naming things, Amarille was the one with a knack for names. Trutu be told: many of my articles' titles were named by her", he offer a small smile, "My last familiar was taken away along with her in the experiment so when I summoned Thing she was gone already. Thing had no nane for a few months so I started calling him Thing and now he's Thing".

Remembering Amarille always made him both happy and sad, so he decided to let Itharr speak for a moment focusing on the tea and the task ahead. He listen carefully and take both scrolls.

"I hope those arent Love Letters else I might be kicked out this time", he half jokes before pocketing them in haversack, "And sure: you have business to do and I have a party to get ready for. We can drink more tea another time", he says and give the archmage a nod before it teleport out.

Heh. Now that was just show off.

Finishing his tea, he take both cups and wash them manually which was something he rarely did and Amarille always joke how he used magic for everything and...

He let out a heavy sigh and walk to his wardrobe. Time to get dressed for this gala: which robe should he use? And more importantly: where is that annoying Kaylin?

[Taelas]

"By your leave." Gregory sees the departing High Inquisitor off with a deep bow.

He considers changing out of his armor and into the proper official vestments, but it would mean dismissing part of the blessing of St. Cuthbert for the rest of the day in order to fit into the clothes. Only what he is wearing at the time of his daily prayers alters its size along with him. No matter, the armor serves just as well; it can be considered a uniform in and of itself, after all. Besides, wearing it most of the day is a kind of training.

His musings are interrupted by the neophytes, and he frowns in their direction. He shakes his head in response to the question. "The High Inquisitor has retired for the day. I will sit in judgment. Bring the accused," he orders, then marches straight for his preferred court among the lesser courtrooms.

[aReallyGreatAxe]

The 'sir' felt like a punch to the gut, keeping his mind on the present.
And seeing Callum wounded...

His wife would have known what to say, how to acknowledge losing friends and blood in the law's pursuit. Instead, Ilvan addresses the accomplishment. "Good work. Murderers like that can't be allowed to go free." He nods sharply. There. Praise his son, that was the right thing to do. "I have no doubt your team could take even a 'Frenzied Fiend'. A single blade in the dark is no match for hard work and well-trained allies..." The allies his son had just lost. Ilvan's burgeoning rant cuts off abruptly.

"And be careful," he admonishes as Callum leaves.

Yes, the boy was more right than he knew. He should get out, try to find Keras or... well, somebody.

Of course, before Ilvan leaves, he makes sure he is dressed appropriately, although he does not appreciate the fashion of this era. Too many pieces, too much fabric, too buttoned up. The long coat gets in his way and the hat's brim interferes with line of sight to things above him. He much prefers armor, nobody complains when it goes out of style, as long as it protects.

"I hope you're ready for crowds," he complains to his guide as he steps out the door, the little wink of light trailing behind a half-step. Next stop was the last address Keras had given.

[AlanBruce]

@Camus: Itharr nearly chokes on the comment regarding books.

"I wasn't always nose deep in a library, you know. I 'earned my stripes', as they say. The blade in my room is still sharpened every now and then, just in case. But admittedly, our Methods are a far better way of solving problems than swinging away wildly.""

Griswold looks up at the fireplace, displaying the last portrait of her and a loving and painful reminder of things lost:

Amarille Shatris, considered one of the finest elven mages to have graced Runestone during your time here. The painting was commissioned by you to one of Halmathan's finest artists of the time. A young fellow by the name of Steiner. Now this guy had done portraits for all the best families in The City. He wasn't known for being cheap and yet...

He did this one for free. When Amarille pressured to pay him, the young man declined coin and simply walked away and you never heard of Steiner again. Who knows what happened to him.

Artists are strange that way, after all.

"She will never be forgotten, Camus. She was one of a kind, that's for sure. So that's your familiar's origin's name? Thing? It is yours, after all. As for the documents here, no. Not love letters. It's... confidential material. Just make sure it gets to the right hands. I would love tea at some other time, Archmage Camus. Take care...""

And because Griswold is a wizard, he has to show off who's got the bigger staff here and teleports out rather than use the door. Cute trick, but you can do it as well.

Now, to see what to wear for this gala. You have collected quite an assortment of robes throughout the years. The robes make the wizard, they say. Not really, but they definitely impress. And first impressions are very important, especially when you'll be with Halmathan's High Society....

And then Thing comes in as the door to your chamber opens and in comes a face you'd rather not see, but given the circumstances:

Kaylin Quivaris, of House Quivaris... and your younger cousin, much to your chagrin.

Now many people even in Runestone have dubbed you at times a tad arrogant. They haven't met Kaylin. Younger than you by a few decades, Kaylin has demonstrated quite the aptitude for the arcane arts. Enough for someone like you to nod in recognition. Never in awe. But she is here to stay.. apparently for some time. And as much as you'd like to send her back home, family ties can be annoyingly strong.

"So this is where an Archmage lives... I thought you'd be in the Tower. Your familiar sent a poorly written note. You taught it to write? Very impressive!""

Kaylin takes a seat and sniffs the cup left by Griswold, moving it away.

"This is not the tea I like. So... a party? And I might even get to meet the King? I have yet to meet a human king... and I have met royalty all over. What, you thought your were the only Quivaris with ties, cousin? Then again, if I am going to be at Runestone and become a mighty wizard myself, they need to get a glimpse of talent early on.""

There are many ways to deal with an opponent. Runestone has taught you this...and by Boccob, that rage calmed by Griswold's words seem to threaten to erupt like a mad geyser as you keep shoving robes around, looking for the right one before Kaylin walks up to the fireplace.

"What's that? Did you buy it off some amateur?"

[AlanBruce]

@Gregory: High Inquisitor Calchis returns the bow and is aided by fellow Cuthbertines to his chambers.

The man is old. His health has been rumored to be waning as of late. Although a true Paragon of Justice, he is not immortal and given time- hopefully a lot- he will be joining St. Cuthbert himself. Chances are you will be named High Inquisitor after his passing. The ways succession of rank occurs is a mystery to you not only because you moved from one church to another, but because this is a tightly held secret held amongst Church Leaders.

Time will tell. But right now, you need to administer Justice as per your rank and duty.

The Room of Law is to remain closed in Calchis' absence, but St. Cuthbert's Cathedral has no small amount of smaller and just as efficient court rooms to dispense it.

A Cuthbertine priest bows to you as you walk to the stand and you can already hear maniacal laughter coming from down the hall as something is wheeled in towards the Court Room as the torches cast eerie lights around the room and you take a seat, larger than life thanks to the Cudgel's Blessings and await the accused.

Normally, these procedures are quick and simple, but there are about a dozen guards coming hauling something heavy as the bailiff, an Inquisitor of lower rank by the name of Donovan, unfurls a scroll and reads out loud as you face the accused, wheeled in from the shadows.

"Court is in session! The City of Halmathan proceeds to, according to the Law, process the accused... bring her in!""

The maniacal laughter intensifies as half a dozen guards haul a wooden platform supported by wheels and you can see that the accused in heavily bound in bloody chains as the guards stop her a few feet away from you and are quick to step back, weapons at the ready.

"Sasha Surnam, known as The Crimson Tigress. She is brought in on the account of alleged smuggling, theft...

And homicide. The 6th Division of the City Guard apprehended her at Rashema's Marina, where she killed five members of the guard. It was recommended that she were to be bound in such manner before bringing her in.""

Sasha looks up at you and sniffs the air as a wicked smile crosses her face.

"And here I thought I'd see the Old Man himself! Did he croak already? Are you the 'Big Man' now...oh yes. I can see that, clear as day..hehehehheeeee...hahahahhahahhahaaaaaa!""

Inquisitor Donovan frowns at her words and takes a step forward while Sasha keeps looking at you directly in the eyes, never backing away despite being in such a precarious position.

"Silence, wench! You are in the presence of his Honor, Judge Du Vay! Have you anything to say for all this?""

Sasha looks at Donovan and sniffs the air and then looks back at you.

"You're welcome."

[Cavir]

"A simple request it is then. His Majesty will be leaving the Royal Palace with an escort of twelve guards on horseback. I have been told he will be stopping at Pelor's Cathedral and the Temple of the Valorous, since Highfather Jace and Sir Randolph Brunhausser will be accompanying him. To the event.

The Guards assigned are decently trained, but we rather not take any risks. Better safe than sorry. You still have a few hours to prepare. Be at his Majesty's side at all times. Don't let him off your sight.

That will be all."

Kalir nods in accepting the honored task. "I'll be there." He wasn't one for military formalities but he was known for keeping his word. Keeping the king safe helped keep the city, his home, safe so being on watch over the king's excursion was not something Kalir needed to be ordered to do.

The raptoran kept two living quarters. His more common residence was at the Temple of the Blooming Lotus but he had his own space at the Royal Barracks. Once the sergeant left Kalir turned towards another doorway, one that would lead to his room. Opening his wings he bent his knees then combined the power of a single flap and his chiseled muscular legs to leap toward the door. He didn't glide but the great leap took him just short of the door, landing with a heavy thud to wake up his legs after flying the skies above.

In his room his grabbed his finer looking but still battle ready clothing that fit over his fine breastplate armor then headed down the hall to freshen up.

Long before it was time for the king to head out Kalir arrives to report in with the detail's leader and the king's steward to work out the final plans for the trip. He also inquires about what event was going on.

[Chimaera]

Griswold's visit ends soon and he is left alone for a few moments before his cousin come in, astride in her horse named Disdain.

"If you believe all archmages live in that tower it just prove how ignorant you are", he says with a cold smile, "[B]But worry not: this is a place for enlightment and I believe you will learn how things work around quickly and get rid of the blessing of ignorance. If you make the cut, of course. Not all are fit to study here", he says and turn his back from the robes, "Tell me, how is your stay at that inn? Not too far from Runestone I hope", he says and make a motion for Thing to climb to his usual pocket, "For Thing's sake, of course", he pets the weasel's head.

He completely ignore the remark from the tea: complete bad taste to make such a comment on a delicious tea.

"And you're used to royalty? Good. Wouldnt want them believe I was dragging a servant alongside", he says and turn his attention back to his many robes, picking one made purple silk and decorated with several small blue quartz, each with a rune inscribed magically inside, "I hope you have something fancy to wear, right?"

The rage was slowly boiling inside Camus, but he decided to not let her get the worse of him, so at the mention of portrait, he simple smile.

"It was a gift: Amarille Shatris, my wife", he says presenting her to the portrait, "And yes, Art is something the uneducate mind have a hard time to grasp. But as I said earlier: time in Runestone might do some good thing for you. Maybe you'll learn a lot of things attending here".

He look to the chair left unoccupied by Griswold and wave for her to sit, "I'll get ready and call a carriage to your inn so that you can get ready. If it doesnt take hours for you to look good maybe we can make a brief tour around the Royal District before the party start", he fix his jade circlet around his golden hair and caress the frame of Amarille's portrait, "Shall we?"

[AlanBruce]

@Ilven: Praise the boy. That is why he came here, after all. Give him a sign of approval. He looks up to you...

"Murderers indeed, father. That is why I signed to The Guard- like you, I also wish to see this City cleansed of all that ails it. I may never attain the degree of power and respect you did in the Helguard, but Maria and Daisy? For them, I put my life on the line.

Because you once did for us all. Enjoy your evening, father. It was good seeing you. And I will be careful."

The door shuts lightly but it may have been a slam as your Blade Guide floats by your side, not well aware of what has just transpired. You need to leave this house.

The City has taken care of you all these years. The King himself granted you an honorable discharge, along with the rest of the members of the Helguard, upon conversing with Captain Ludwig about your last expedition...

If only your mind weren't so foggy now to remember what exactly transpired to give everyone such a leave, though. Age does take its toll. Even on elves.

To step out onto the streets once again. Changed beyond measure. Back in your day, it was much simpler: those that fought in the Helguard were advised not to wear armor or shields- those were too restrictive against the Beasts beyond, and thus became a liability in combat. You had to be quick of feet and mind out there. The idea of using shields and donning heavy armor was quickly abandoned by The Holy Blade when his own was splintered beyond repair.

Of course, Ludwig was never bereft of his own blade, said to have chosen him under a moonlit sky. Because of this, members of the Helguard trained unlike any soldier in the City...probably on Oerth entire. Their bodies became as strong and as hardy as the beasts they felled. It was the only way.

But times have changed now. Callum being a prime example. All these ideas cross your mind as you put on something that more closely resembles the times today- no easy feat. Muggers are still running around Halmathan- your son barely survived an encounter with one. You are not running that risk a second time.

And once outside, with the towering buildings and carriages and multitude of people walking around, none really recognizing a member of an elite group such as yourself, you head to the only place you can think of finding someone from the old days. See what they are up to.

The City may have changed its facade, but the streets are all too familiar to you as you head towards the Royal District and the Training Grounds, where Halmathan's elite Royal Guard bunk and train, fully devoted to Crown and City.

Unlike the rest of the City, those in the Royal Guard- even the most recent members recognize you and pay their deepest respects by giving you a military salute, fit for a man who did so much for their home. This is an uncommon welcome for someone who's been away for so long, but it sure feels good to be remembered after all:

You did train here before signing up for the Helguard.

A few familiar faces can be spotted in the group, who resume their training with both blade and spell, but where is Keras?

And then the sound of wheels catches your attention as a disheveled figure is brought into the sun's waning light, pushed by a nun bearing the emblem of the Golden Sun with a chalice inside, symbol of The Healing Church:

"You have aged terribly...old friend.""

It's Amren. Your understudy in the Royal Guard and later, a member of the Helguard. Like you, he has grown a beard and his face is visibly scarred, to the point that his eyes have been flooded in cataracts as the nun hands him a vial with a red liquid and the man takes a sip of it before tasting it and with shaking hands, gives her the vial and does a silent gesture, which causes her to walk away and leave both alone.

This guy was a sharpshooter. Almost as good as you when it came to the bow and arrow. A careless test to see who was the superior shot cost unnecessary deaths. And now, he can't even walk on his own.

"Have you come to reminisce, Ilven? I may be old, but my hearing is still on point- a justly deserved salute for a Helguard? All we need is a parade...hehehhehee...* cough..COUGH* !!!""

The nun hears Amren and is already coming to his aid when your student raises a shaky hand and she steps back.

"How has life been treating you? If I had to guess, a tad better than me. You still have your legs... do you? My sight isn't what it used to be. Hell, they don't even recognize me- how could they? A blind and a cripple in a chair? Hardly the stuff of legends.""

It is true, Time takes its toll on everyone. Legend or not. Amren and you may not have been on the best of terms back in the Glory days of the Helguard, but a threat? He definitely is not.

"So what brings you here? The desire to be remembered? Showered in praise? Heh!

I come here to reflect... and seek forgiveness. We are bloody poisonous relics, Ilven. Best forgotten and avoided."


@Kalir: You need not take this as an order.

The King and his entourage will be safe under your watchful eye. The SMC will be hosting a private event and chances are security will be tight, but the King is known for being hard to keep in one place for a long time. For a royal, he doesn't act like one. This isn't seen as a bad thing for the vast majority of Halmathans. As a result, his behavior has earned him the title of The People's King, because it is with the common folk that he feels most at home and can be himself.

Needless to say, the nobles and some Church Leaders frown upon this behavior, but what are they going to do? And so, you head towards your own room and get ready for the evening. Hopefully it doesn't take too long, as you leave the barracks and are about to inquire about the details of this event when your Raptoran sight catches a most unusual person in the barracks:

That's Ilven Selma! A member of the Helguard under Captain Ludwig, a legend for those who have studied Halmathan's History.

Ilven is known amongst the Royal Guard as the Arrow of God. Although you weren't even born when he was in his prime, tales state that Ilven once shot a single arrow across the City and felled a beast, striking it down instantly. He has never once missed a shot and only a fool would dare challenge him to a contest with a bow.

At any rate, he is perhaps the only Helguard you have seen here in a very long time, since Captain Ludwig has been absent as of late.

[AlanBruce]

@Daun: It is not unknown for chimney sweeps to work well into the late hours of the day.

Right now, you have to assume a role. One you rather not, but in order to broker peace with your family, this is a sacrifice you must undertake. This does not entail by any means that you will stop standing up for Halmathan's nature- if anything, this gala could be a perfect platform to make a statement.

And of course your mother would have the wedding dress ready at a moment's notice. She is driven, you must give her that. But Oscar Skylarios will have to find himself some other socialite.

The landscape drawing are a near perfect capture of Glenndale Park. The preserve is a bucolic smorgasbord of inspiration to many artists and even you have been approached by young would be Manets to become their next "muse". Of course, they usually ask for a very natural pose. As in, nude.

T'Nauri is quick to send them packing, easel and all.

Your usual druid garb will have to take a back seat tonight as you look into the polished mirror and dress for the occasion. A strange feeling after being for so long surrounded by people and animals amongst roots and leaves and pristine lakes, away from all this beautiful facade of glamour and gallantry.

The worst part is always getting the twigs and acorns that get caught in your hair. A thousand blades would be preferred to the brush wrenching these off your hair, causing you to stifle a curse more than a few times, lest Mother hears you downstairs, but in the end, it is done.

A lady, through and through. Fit for Halmathan's wealthy and powerful elite...it's only one night. After this, back to Glenndale. and so, once satisfied with your looks, you once again adopt the form of a raven and fly off towards Hope's caress as the lights below begin to flicker and turn on in the streets. Eari must be having a jolly good time back at the Park. It's usually in nights like these that she and the other druids converge and practice their own rituals, now under Vicar Amelia's caring and watchful sight.

How can you tell you're getting close to the SMC? The smog.

The Skylarios definitely like to build their offices big and imposing. Despite the rain, the tall chimney stacks spew steam that nearly cause you to plummet from the dizziness, but finding an alley, you quickly revert to your own form and like a true Tersetti, approach the opulent bronze door, made in the shape of a giant Cog as music can be heard inside and several carriages stop in front of the building, with the coachmen opening the door to many faces you have seen at parties hosted by your family when you were a child.

A young man dressed in black from head to toe and wearing a top hat and white gloves bows courteously to you and asks for your name before checking a list.

"Lady Daun of House Tersetti...of course! Welcome!""

The main lobby has been beautifully arranged, with its high ceilings and servants walking around with silver trays and glasses filled with bubbling champagne as the guests don't even mind the server and stick their hand out, picking the glasses and talking about, well... whatever Halmathan's elite might talk about.

Who is the best dressed?

What is she wearing?

Whose jewelry shines the most...and which is fake.

The men fill the lobby with their cigar smoke and laugh amongst themselves, no doubt some grand business deal that have secured their lives in wealth even more.

But what stands out the most and has many guests looking attentively are odd statues encased in glass. Two of them tower above a normal man and have been polished to an uncanny degree:

One is clearly a bull. Made of metal...bronze, perhaps? Your parents can be seen in the other end of the lobby, chatting up a storm, especially your mother.


@Camus: Time to show Kaylin how things are ran here.

"How dare you call me ignorant, Camus Quivaris? Do not forget that our family put you through school. Were it not for us, you'd be a... what is the word? Savage? You owe us. And according to what I was told... a lot.

Then again, you are an archmage. I know legacy is a thing, even here. With your connections- which I can only hope you have- I can get in much quicker than the usual apprentice... which I am not, by the way.

And I am not staying at an inn. That's for dirty rat killing savages who seek fame in some grimy dungeon.

I am the Golden Mare Hotel, luxury suite. Nice view to Cathedral Ward. If anything, this City has very nice architecture. But I can make it better once my skills are honed even more than they are now.""

Kaylin gives you a death stare upon your comment.

"I am nobody's servant! You will introduce me as your cousin, of royal elven lineage. And get me an audience with this King Airdan of yours. Might as well start at the top. And yes- I brought my wardrobe here. Finest elven dresses made by the best seamstresses in the whole land.""

Kaylin swallows her pride for a few seconds when you let her know the painting she was dissing on portrays your dead wife.

"Oh... she is nice. It's a pretty picture.... and I know a lot about art, just so you know. But yes- you might be somewhat right about honing my already impressive skills here in Runestone. I might even get to have a seat at the Tower of Magi in under a year.""


Once you are ready, Kaylin walks ahead of you and waits for you to open the door as both cross campus, Thing safe in your pocket.

"If you must know- and you really you ought not- I left many suitors back home. Such is my natural charm. I should not take long to get ready. Call a carriage, then.... or use your magic to get me to my Hotel, not an inn. That is why you came here, right?""

[Taelas]

Gregory's expression is impassive, betraying nothing as he sits in the large, reinforced chair that has been brought to the court to accommodate him.

"'Welcome'?" he asks in a grave tone, one eyebrow raised. "Sasha Surnam, you stand accused of theft, smuggling, and five counts of murder, before the Justice of the law, under the authority of St. Cuthbert and the City of Halmathan. Am I to take your disparaging remark as you pleading guilty? That will make this a very swift judgement indeed. Do you have anything to say in your own defense?"

[AlanBruce]

@Gregory: How can a person like this been around the City doing all these horrible things? You have been trained to follow the Law. This is just another criminal, albeit one that doesn’t seem as terrified of being in a room filled with Inquisitors, but that can change rather quickly.

“You are indeed welcome, judge. I must take your badge toting friend’s words as gratitude.

As for the charges I am accused of? Not guilty. We all do what we must, don’t we?

You dispense justice from that chair.

I hunt.”

[Taelas]

Gregory observes the woman for a long moment.

"You plead not guilty, yet you were apprehended in the midst of your criminal activities. You killed five members of the guard. Unless I am satisfied that you did so only in self-defense and while in fear of your own life, the sentence for such heinous crimes is incarceration in the Castello of Santa Noria for the remainder of your natural life. You have this one chance to speak in your own defense and give your account of events. I would suggest you take it to heart."

[Chimaera]

Listening to her complaints, Camus look to his younger cousin.
"It's Archmage Camus Shatris. Be used to it, else you commit a gaffe at the gala", he correct her, "And dont take it as an insult, cousin", he says opening the door and hailing a carriage for them to go to the luxuous inn she was staying in, "Being ignorant and being a savage is two completely different things: you just dont know yet of some things since there is no way you would know how Runestone works in your short stay here. But since you're not a savage you'll eventually learn and maybe one day become an archmage like me", he says and grab a small particle of ruby from his component pouch, "You're like a brute gemstone: just need a few cuts and will be a perfectly lapidated diamond. You'll learn that no matter how much you study, there will always be more to study. Believing you will be sitting in the Tower of the Magi in a year sounds more like a wild joke or just a fevered dream...".

He put the ruby back in his pouch and place his hand in her forehead, a look of concern in his face, "I hope you didnt catch yourself in the storm or should I worry you're sick? Or maybe I just laugh at your joke?", his cornern changing to a grin, "There is no quick way to reach power and you're still young. You're an elf, time will be in your side so there is no need to rush, it's not like you're an human and have less than a century to master your powers".

As the carriage goes, he point one place or another.
"And yes, I could teleport us to the expensive inn you're staying, but then it wouldnt be a tour, right? See that big tower of there? Thats the Moquol's Tower of Commerce and that giant temple over there? That one is...", he goes on and on with his tour trying to have talking stick for most of the ride. This way she wont bother him so much.

Upon reaching the Golden Mare he seems to realize something, "And it is possible you have already crossed path with King Airdan. This is his favorite hotel from what I've heard", he says and let her guide him to her room, "And it is a really large room, almost as large as mine. I hope you're not spending all the good money of the Quivaris Family just to sleep here. I'm sure I could get you some room in Runestone with all my influence and all...", he take Thing out of his pocket and let him scout the room while himself sit on an armchair and start folding asmall piece of paper for a miniature hat for Thing, "Well, whenever you're ready, let me know".

Once the paper hat is complete, he put it on Thing's head and pull his spellbook and start readying it.
"Juts out of curiosity, Kaylin", he ask her without raising his eyes from the book, "What spell use ruby dust as it main component?"

[El'the Ellie]

On her flight over Daun smirks a bit, as much as a bird can, remembering the handful of painters at the park with the courage to approach her and T'nauri. The last one had been rather charming, she had almost agreed. But she is pulled out of her thoughts as the smog reaches her.

On Daun's long list of likes and dislikes of Hamalthan, the toxic air might be her very least favorite thing about the city. She knew largely how and why the smog happened and the scientific reasons behind it, but on a more poetic level it seemed like the gods themselves were punishing these people for their machinations. The fact that her family was at least partially responsible for it made it worse.

Unwilling to be up where the smog is worst for too long, Daun descends and joins the party. Almost immediately she remembers what sickened her about these things: the performance of it all. Fake smiles, fake laughs, fake clothes to make them look more important than they are... And the honest ones were worse. Nearly everyone here was clawing their way up the ladders of social standing by kissing the behind of the person in front of them. It was sad but understandable: all animals will make fools of themselves to find food and mates and resources when they feel inadequate. It's the honest, comfortable ones that Daun dislikes: they have means and wealth and power, and hold it above the heads of others to see how much production they can grind out of those beneath them.

She put on a pleasant smile all the same. When in Rome... Daun stifles a cough as she wades through the smoke of the men nearby. Those were the honest type. Disgusting. Although she notices her parents, her attention is drawn immediately to the towering statues. What on Oerth are these..? She approaches the metal bull. This is SMC, not some Steiner gallery: these can't just be statues, they must do something. But what? What do you need to make a metal bull to do, eat metal grass? She snickers a bit at her own joke. She pushes politely through the crowd to get a closer look at the case: perhaps it would have some sort of information at it's base, but she suspected the guests would be informed soon enough. Daun positioned herself intentionally: close to the bull to get a good look, but within as easy sight as possible of her parents. I may have come at their request, but I'm not going to hurry to their side like a child. If they want to talk they can come to me.

Meanwhile, she listens to the chatter nearby, eager to join any conversation where someone sounds like they have a good idea what these are.

[aReallyGreatAxe]

It takes Ilvan a second longer than it should to reconcile the cripple before him with his student. If it hadn't been for the old embers of his grudge that still smoldered, he might not have recognized Amren at all. Had it really been that long? He'd been spending too much time with himself and his son lately, forgetting that other races' lives barreled on at a breakneck pace. In fact, Ilvan now had a sneaking suspicion that Keras might not be the young man he remembered either.

"I've been well, yes." Amren didn't need to know about the fog between Ilvan's ears, or how his hands sometimes shook.

"As for why I'm here... aren't we allowed to visit friends? This 'relic' isn't ready to lay quietly on a shelf just yet." He forces a chuckle, knowing he should be kinder to his student, but Amren's talent to get under his skin hadn't left with the use of his legs.

Still, the rivalry did seem a little petty now (now that he'd unquestionably won, a nasty little thought whispered), and it was hard to believe this pitiable figure was the same one he blamed for so much. May as well try to mend bridges before Amren up and died. "Unfortunately, I seem to have let friends drift away. I'm lucky to have found you here. Have you kept up with anyone from the old days, or is watching the Guard the extent of your Atonement?" There was that word again. Atonement.

[AlanBruce]

@Gregory: The guards seem somewhat unnerved by this woman, despite being bound heavily in chains.

The City has dealt with all manner of threats before. And as an inquisitor of your rank, you are not wont to fall into cheap intimidation tactics. In fact, you make it clear to the accused what her fate will befall, should she continue down this path. Something you can certainly guarantee given your position.

"Hehehehehheheee...Hahahahahahhaaaaaaaa...HAHAHAHA HHAHAAHAAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAA!

...Fear of my own life? Yes, that sounds poetic. Can you have that written down? As for your questions, Judge. Yes:

I do regret my actions, your honor. I wish I had killed all of them. Prevention is the best defense, you know? Where is the old man? Is he really dead? Cynical lot, the whole bunch of you. Filth! I have nothing or no one to answer to, but you? Oh yes..."

Sasha looks at you and then at the room, smiling wickedly.

"You are going to answer soon enough!"

[Cavir]

With such important matters coming up Kalir quickly cleaned up and got ready. Dressed in his fighting best he headed down the stairs back toward the training grounds. He wanted to pass through there to take notice of the training. Leaving the stairs and headed to the exit he came across a surprise. He stepped closer, stopped, and rendered a tight salute which was unusual for the Raptoran but this was an unusual meet.

"Master Selma! An honor to see you. How are you?" The Helguard had many titles, but Kalir knew him well enough to not put him ill at ease, at least in this more private situation.