[Forum Game] Agorath and the Age of Crowns

[Sneakyflaps]

Nodding as Varian sat on his throne, the old dwarf finishing his words ”Your words bring us much joy, Master Dwarf, we must admit that we were held in much suspense as to your answer for we have no often treated with the Dwarves of Ghullkazid. High Mage Villion shall leave come spring, once the snows have melted and with luck some semblance of peace in Highathar, for your King’s court. Our scribe shall likewise travel with him, for now with your words of high praise and promise, our ears most long for our scribe’s recount of the marvelous city that he shall in no doubt find in the most green bloom that spring blesses upon all.

While I have no doubt that King Loghain’s brave emissaries do not fear the weather. Then my offer still remains that you may be given quarters here in my palace and home until winter recedes and the roads are once more safe and open for travel.

As for your request on to us, we shall accept it in the spirit of openness and friendship which may blossom. As such those of you that is deemed worthy by you, Master Dwarf, are more than welcome here at my court, even after spring comes, to represent your King and to meet with the wise men of our court for the endeavor in which you seek.”

 

[JamesStirling]

Name: Gibroth Hetsucc
Race: Human
Age: 43 Years
Title: Nasili Surna of Goi'Orka
Specialty: Administration
Bio: Born into a wealthy family in the Imperial District of Goi'Orka, Gibroth had a childhood far easier than most. He was born to Heidman Hetsucc, Chief Administrator of High King Rothmar, and his wife Lilanthia. Lilanthia passed away from an illness when Gibroth was just five, leaving him to be cared for by the family's caretaker, as Heidman was often campaigning with King Rothmar. Gibroth preformed extraordinarily well in school, excelling in mathematics and literature. His father visited occasionally to check on his son's progress and give him the encouragement to continue with his schooling. After Ra'Gru succeeded Rothmar, Gibroth's father remained in a critical position among the King's advisors. He remained in service through King Borguk as well. During Gibroth's late teenage years, he made the acquaintance of future King Oruk through their parent's relationship. At the age of 22, as Gibroth was beginning his third year at the University of Mutikabir, his father was killed during the final months of the Great War alongside King Borguk. Gibroth was, for many months, in despair, but was able to pull himself out and finish his education successfully. After that, he decided to follow the steps of his father, offering his hand to King Wreav's Administration. Gibroth quickly became known for his ability to solve logistical problems, helping solve an issue regarding the plan to clean the Rogak's District of thievery. Although it did not last long, it was, at the time, a great success. He slowly raise through the ranks, becoming the Unter Nasili Surna of Goi'Orka. After Rogak's death at the hands of Oruk, Gibroth was appointed by Oruk himself to lead Goi'Orka as the Nasilli Surna while Oruk concerned himself with matters of state, the previous Nasili Surna having been too close to the Rogak.

 

[BlackBishop]

Spoiler: GM Note

A big welcome to our newest players. May your inevitable deaths be honourable, if not excruciatingly painful. On that note, sign ups are hereby closed until further notice.

 

[BlackBishop]

The Hroniden Summit promised renewed peace as a shadowy threat looms over the fractured sultanate

Early Spring
Snowsmelt, 21st Year of the New Age​

Viewed by many as the bloodiest winter in recent memory, there was hope to be found as the air warmed and snow gave way to gentle rains and the promise of spring across much of Agorath. It was a typical winter, by all accounts. Along the southern coasts, life carried on much as usual, aside from the odd frost. The people of Norseland sought refuge from the paralyzing snows in their warm halls, seeking respite from warfare if only for a few months, and the passes of Highathar became snowed in, trapping the unwary, and compelling others a prolonged stay at the hearth of a Dwarven Inn with their renown warm beer.

Rumours spread down the Great Rill of King Bethod the Bloodless disappeared within the passes of the Vale Mountains, lost to an early freeze. To most, it is unlikely Bethod survived, a typical and tragic end to one who sought the unification of Norseland. Already his thanes posture and bicker for the scraps of Bethod's kingdom, threatening to tear his realm apart, from Stronghelm to Ethelbor. Meanwhile, on the other side of the mountains, King Thrunrull sought to continue his campaign across the shores of the Frostfang, but the harsh winter drove him and his army to his newly conquered holdfasts to wait out the winther, though not before thousands of his men succumbed to the cold, or though its said.

In Ecclestius, looking to take advantage of the chaos in Highathar, King Varian Krestarii dispatches envoys to the various mountainhomes looking to sway renown masons and smiths from their deep forges to settle in Ecclestius. Most harbor a deep loyalty to their mountainhome, however, and are not eager to leave in such times when they are needed. The dregs of the guilds answer the call instead, leaving their underkingdoms to little lamentation, the prevailing attitude being 'let the Krestarii king have them!"

In Westmarch, many join festivities in Thaanos and learn the Way of Weapons, gaining insight and martial prowess. It is said that many have settled within Thaanos, to train at the feet of the Thaanosian masters. Meanwhile, economic woes have hit Kalar hard, or so the heralds say. Seems a one-sided trade deal with Azeratii is beginning to take its toll, and Azeratii goods swarm the markets and drive Kalari craftsmen out of business. As a result, First Citizen Picell Tyrett is losing influence within the Assembly.

In Galadriel, Queen Nienna is said to have purchased parcels of land from her vassals, cutting down trees and clearing land for cultivation of crops. It is further whispered that the land was bought at bargain prices, few able to resist the golden tongue of the Elven queen. In the Green Chasm, diplomatic disaster is averted with a secretive meeting between Queen Dowager Eylinn Krestarii and her son, King Varian. It is rumoured, that at the behest of his gentle wife and insistence of his mother, King Varian lifted the banishment of his mother and sister. Others, particularly within Green Chasm, tell a tale of Queen Eylinn defying the will of her royal son, and trespassing to force his hand only to have it waver.

Hroniden, to the surprise of many observers, sees a temporary truce come into fruition at the behest of the Holy Paladins of the Light Basin and the Padishah of Shiek. It is said that this comes with alarming news of the rapid conquest of Vahamil by the Birchians, and the shared fear that Hroniden maybe next. Rumours abound that the divided sultanate braces for war against Karmont, yet optimism is high that the united efforts of Hroniden will lay waste to Malarx and break their hold on Vahamil.

Highathar braces for all out war, though violence is slowed by the freezing of the mountain passes. It is rumoured that Orcs threaten Kogansunan once again, though this time the news seems much worse then before, with Dwarves, many maimed and wounded, limping toward High Mountain telling of a renewed assault and the breaking of the former capital's gates and palace. Kogansunan seems ready to fall. Meanwhile King Oruk of Goi'Orka completes his conquest of the Yroh Wildlands, subjugating his former enemies and consolidating his power in his new lands.

Increase trade from Ghullkazid with the west has brought new news of the goings on beyond the shadow vale. Rumours spread of war between the Jagged Spire and Akkum and apparent fall out in relations when Akkum made war with vassals of the Jagged Spire. News from Ghullkazid tells of Prince Warjaw's obsession with a Godly artifact, rumored to be chasing the Eldar Grail, a holy artifact said to bestow immortality for all that bleed upon the cup.

The Mages and Star-gazers are predicting a variable spring, bountiful rains for some, with drought bringing hardships to others. Time will tell if these premonitions come true.

 

[Tapscott]

Talk of Marriage

​

The sound of muted voices and scurrying footsteps were all that could be heard in the dining hall of Mirrorwater. Seated alone, absently picking at a small plate of roasted rabbit, was Cacame Mindrilla, heir to the Theronship of Mirrorwater. His stomach rumbled unhappily as he looked at the food, doing all he could to try and force himself to eat it. Ever since the skirmish he had taken part in with the Galadrielan fleet Cacame had not been himself. Nightmares haunted him every time he went to bed, his sleep troubled as his mind went over the death and horror he had seen. The cooked meats he had so loved before now made him retch as their scent reminded him of burning flesh.

“Picking at your food again?” Said his mother’s cold voice, reverberating mute against the hard black stone. “Have you found a plan on how to proceed from here?” Evhana stepped slowly over the carpet, approaching Cacame from behind.

Pausing momentarily Cacame didn’t bother to look over his shoulder at his mother, still fixated as he was on keeping what little he had eaten down. “No. I don’t know what I should do. You know I don’t.” His normally cheery voice was gone, replaced by a bitter and defensive tone. He hated the boy he had once been. He didn’t know how lucky he had been. “Do you have an idea?” She shook her head.

“My contacts are scouting the identity of this woman, but no trace as of yet. A Human agent for the Dwarves of Yurdaest sound a bit far-fetched, however. Marching in with an army would hardly reclaim your precious axe.” She growled irritably reminding him slightly of a lioness. “Had you cared to court more women in your childhood, perhaps you’d be prepared when one of them was only out to outwit you.” She sighed, and sat on the opposite side of him, enjoying a goblet of dark red wine.

He grunted in acknowledgement as he pushed his plate away. He had been trying to forget about the theft of his ancestral axe, about how he had been tricked by a foreign temptress who had drugged him and robbed him. “That precious axe is all that my father, your first husband, left me.” Frowning as he looked up at her to meet her cool gaze with his own tired blue eyes he shrugged. “Besides what does me not courting many women have to do with this? Most just wanted my hand in marriage so they could get their families into a prestigious and wealthy position… Not to resort to petty theft.” Evhana snorted.

“That axe is a testament to your legacy and your father’s legacy. That axe is your claim and power.” She drummed her fingers. “Hear now, son. We cannot idle on this matter. Someone is out to threaten this house, and you for that matter. If they are ready to be so bold, imagine what else they are willing to do.” She sipped at the wine in deep contemplation. “We must move to Coal for the time being. There my spies will be unable to be traced back to me. Besides, there are more lively courts in the Elf capital, rather than in Mirrorwater hold. The black rock makes us both dour.”

“I just don’t understand what they could hope to get from that axe. It’s a good weapon, I’m sure, and I guess you’re right that it is my… claim made manifest but… What could a stranger get out of it?” He shook his head unhappily. “Now we’ve got to leave here, leave our home, because of me. Dammit.” Evhana shook her head.

“No point in crying over one’s mistakes, for it leaves them not undone. We’ve all done them, and lived through them. What matters is how you deal with them, and deal with them we shall.” She licked at her lips to savour the taste of wine, a beverage she rarely consumed. “Hear now, for I will tell you only this once. The symbol of that weapon is what claimed your father his under kingdom. It’s no mere weapon.” She snorted, again. “Though I now regret not learning more of its history from your father. Who made it, how it became the weapon of his people.” The squinted her eyes. “It smells of Dwarf craft for miles, yet I can’t for the love of me see the brain of a Dwarf assembling this scheme. I imagined they’d be more… Straight forward. Perhaps I’m underestimating them.”

“Underestimating Dwarves? You give them too much credit.” Loathing clear in his voice as he mentioned the denizens of Highathar. The murder of his brother had left him with an unhidden hatred of the short-folk of the mountains. “I suppose you’re right though. Something about it seemed… off.” Motioning for an idling servant to attend him he curtly demanded some wine and the cleaning of the table. As the servant took care of his uneaten meal Cacame looked at his mother with a sad smile on his face. “Do you still mean for me to take back Yurdaest? Despite what that place has done to us, to our family? I would rather see that mountainhome crumble.” A grin tugged at his lips as he envisioned that horrid mountain crumbling on top of the squealing little rats that lived inside.

”I fear we may not have a choice in the matter. There seem to be no single man able to tame that mountain, and now our reluctance to intervene has backfired. Instead, they come for us.” She gritted her teeth. “After all those investments in both diplomacy and trade, this is how they reward us. Attacking our merchants, and raiding our villages. This time, you wouldn’t be in it alone, my son. You’d have the backing of the queen it we will come to that.”

“You can’t trust Dwarves.” He said simply as the servant reappeared, placing a small goblet of wine before him. Picking it up and taking a deep drink, wincing slightly as the unfamiliar taste burned his mouth, Cacame nodded to himself. The wine settled his stomach momentarily and gave him a brief respite from the tormenting memories that tugged at his mind. “I had hoped Aunty Nienna would support me, us, in any such situation…” Placing the drink down slowly he looked at his mother seriously. “This talk of the mountainhome, of me… Does this mean I need to find a wife? Secure our lineage?”

“At some point, you’d have to. I care not if it’s Human, Elf or even Dwarf at this point, but you need a woman to carry a child.” Evhana made a sly grin, even though her eyes were still cold as ice. “Do you wish to be outdone by your cousin, and offer your aunt a grandchild before I?”

Chuckling quietly he smiled to himself. “I don’t really want a wife. Never really thought it an issue, but with all that is happening… I guess what I want doesn’t matter in this regard. I just need to do what is good for us, for the house…” Shifting slightly in his seat he looked at his mother thoughtfully. “I don’t suppose you have any suggestions as to who I should wed? It’s all the same to me, just… No Dwarves. Never.” Marriage. To wed himself to some creature of the opposite sex, binding himself to their whims. It had never appealed to him, not in youth and not now that he was nearing his majority. He couldn’t help but see women as wanting something, always scheming… The theft of his axe by the Hrondienese woman had done little to improve his opinion on the fairer sex.

“I will find you someone lest you do it yourself. There’s bound to be someone suitable in the realm, but you’ve apparently not found her here.” She combed through her hair and gulped loudly. “Perhaps the queen can offer me some suggestions once we get to Coal.”

“Bit hard to find one if you don’t look I suppose.” Finishing off his small goblet of wine in one quick go he shuddered slightly. All the talk of marriage felt unpleasant to say the least. “Anyway you’re probably right. Aunty Nienna will have a good idea of the young women of the realm. No doubt she was considering some for Armas before he married my cousin.” Smiling contentedly he nodded to himself. “It was a nice wedding, despite everything.” Despite the theft of his axe in other words. Focusing his gaze back on his mother he nodded with a bit more determination. “How long do you want us to stay in Coal? I’m sure Aunty Nienna will be happy to have us but we can’t just be hanger-ons at court.” He paused, catching himself. “Well I mean you won’t be, what with you being a councillor. I would be though. I can’t just stay around doing nothing.”

“No, you cannot.” She said, stroking her throat. “It will be good training for you to act as a proper courtier, at your queen’s disposal. Get outside your comfort zone. Try being a little ambitious, and ask for a task befitting your title as her brother’s son.”

“Yeah… I’ll see what I can do.” Pushing himself up from the table he gave a small bow to his mother. “I need to go and… take care of a few things. I’ll see you tonight I’m sure.” Without waiting for her response he quickly walked away from her, leaving her alone in the big and empty dining hall. Her brother’s son? He shared no blood with his step-father, Elessar Coamenel. The prince had blatantly talked about siring a proper heir with his mother, to push the indolent Cacame aside. He was the one who caused all this to happen Cacame felt. He would pretend to be the dutiful step-son but hoped to see the prince away and gone for good one of these days.

 

[Olligarchy]

Whispers in the Dark

The tunnels were deep and the stone was ancient. This had once been a place of true power... or so Sakhec Shadowstalker mused as he ran his pale hand along the dark walls of the Deeproad under Konsungan. It was a pity that King Bathor had ruined all of it for a brief moment of respite from his enemies.

There was sparse lumination on the walls from the torches that the dozen or so of his 'comrades' carried, but Sakhec had no need for such. He could see in the dark as well as any cat, and as he led the procession of Dwarves ever deeper into the void, he could only muse on the frailties of his kin. They were weak... divided and leaderless. Oh certainly, there were many that would claim the mantle of leadership, but none had the personal strength and will to force it be a reality.

None, but the Shadowstalker himself.

From the west the mountain kings were beset by an increasingly powerful orc empire, and from the west the rumblings of a re-joined alliance between the forces of light threatened the regions independence. As if to spit further on the stout folks face, the kings that remained were petty, greedy and generally lacking in sufficient intellect to understand their own inadequacies. Sakhec would change all that... he would rally the mountain folk to one banner... his, and bring forth a greatness in them that they'd once had. Or so he planned on anyway.

The path downwards becoming smaller and smaller, with fractures in the walls and ceilings which caused his comrades to murmur hesitantly. Surely they would not wish to be caught under a collapse The Shadowstalker cared not, his stride was certain, if not overtly long as his age was beginning to bear it down. He cared not... age or no, he had a purpose, a goal and he would sacrifice both body and soul to accomplish it... even if he preferred sacrificing others bodies and souls to his own.

Finally, the path came to an end. A steady rockfall had caved in the deeproad, and they could go no further. Laying a pale hand on the stones, the Shadowstalker closed his eyes, hearing the whispers of the stone more keenly than ever before. There was life on the other side... frenzied, bloodlusted and starving life, but life nonetheless. Slowly, as if a mountain range heaving his cragged features turned into a cool smile. His journey had not been for naught.

Motioning to the alchemists besides him, the Shadowstalker stepped aside, allowing the Dwarven chemists to ply it with their acids and explosives. Settling down for a long wait, the Shadowstalker closed his eyes and dreamed.

His dreams were always of blood and sacrifice. Of darkness all consuming, yet withdrawn. He could feel it in his bones... the dark that once was, was lost with none that now lived there to remember its true strength. Eventually, that dark and the magic it brought with it would turn into a legend, which in turn would fade into a myth until nothing remained of the Agorath that he'd learned of during his journeys.

You can halt that... the purring voice in the back of his head spoke.

End this twilight of the dark and make it so that all will come to darkness you shall rule. Three Kings of Blood to be sacrificed...

It was tempting. It had been tempting years ago when he'd accepted the bargain, and remained ever so even now. In the dream he could feel himself reach out for that power... ready to seize it for himself, only to be stirred by a mortal coil of his comrade shaking him.

"The Stone is giving in." The chemist whispered.

Rising, the Shadowstalker eyed the stone which was melting before his very eyes... revealing behind it a pair of blood red shining eyes... gleaming with desire for murder and destruction.

The Shadowstalker smiled.

 

[Plutonium95]

Queen Anne's Travels​

​

They had left Azeratii a week and a half ago, finally reaching the Rill which they would sail up at, hopefully avoiding too much ice on the way. The Queen had taken upon this trip following the latest difficulties in relations, bringing her oldest daughter with her. The snow had increased the further north they had gotten, making it harder to keep the warmth inside, making the Queen use plenty of furs to keep out the cold as her daughter slept in another part of the ship in case they came under attack. Anne had asked Jean to accompany her, not as a guard but as a courtier, finding his last excuse for duty calling to be something she wished not be repeated. They sailed three ships together, Anne in the king’s ship, a large one with plenty room in her quarters and giving a wonderful sight out as they sailed, even if it was lonely and boring. There were a decent amount of servants and guards, but not many courtiers, only just enough. They had almost no horse, they would first receive them upon arrival in Saxon, not to mention avoiding the cost and room to store and feed them.

As they got the Rill, they put down anchor and began setting up a small camp which they would stay in for but a few hours to resupply.

For Jean de Lannes, the opportunity to join the queen had posed something of a dilemma, on one hand he relished to opportunity to serve his queen personally, even if it was as a courtier rather than a member of the Guard. On the other hand, he rued the necessity of leaving his brothers-in-arms should the King’s Guard be called on while he was away. Still, though he had never done it much, he had no problem with sailing and the cold air was positively refreshing compared to that of Wallachia. When the ship dropped anchor he made his way to the Queen’s cabin to escort her to the camp that the servants were preparing. He still wore his dress uniform from the guard, though, free from the strict discipline of the military he had taken the opportunity since they left Azeratii to grow a short beard, in the hopes of looking slightly older. “Your Majesty,” he said as he knocked softly on the cabin door. “The camp is prepared if you are ready to depart.”

She exited a moment later, clad in fur once more with her hair set up looking out over the ship and crew as the snow had fallen once more. “Thank you, Jean.” As she began to walk. “How long will we be staying here?” she asked curiously.

“It shouldn't be more than a few hours,” he answered quickly. “Just enough time to resupply the ships and give everyone some time to stretch their legs.”

She nodded as they walked down from the ship and into the camp, people hard at work. “How have you found the journey? I hope everything is to your liking.”

“Of course,” Jean said as he walked alongside her, arms folded behind his back. “I could not ask for better accommodations and accompanying Your Majesty and her royal Highness is a duty that any man would cherish.”

She blushed and smiled, “I thank you.” She said sincerely. “Though I imagine you tell that to most.” She looked around the camp “So what do you normally do when nothing else is happening?”

“I have brought some histories along in my cabin, including one about the Hroniden campaign led by Lady Eylinn, which has been quite informative.” He nodded his head to some of the guards. “A few of the men play dice, but I am not much for gambling myself. Then of course there are my movements.” He looked over to the queen. “Has your majesty been bored?”

She frowned. “I have, not much excitement stuck in a cabin largely alone for over a week.” she said before shaking her head, “Do you not enjoy the thrill of good gambling?” She asked with a smirk, “to never know what you receive when you make a move but can only guess the other player.” She looked at him, raising an eyebrow, “Your movements?”

“One doesn't actually need room to swing a sword to maintain their form,” Jean answered simply, “the footwork and arm movements are enough. As for gambling? I prefer to be more certain of the things I involve myself.” He took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the frosty air and taking in the sights, of which there were little.

“I fear there is nothing to look at.” She said as she saw his eyes going around. “I always found the uncertainty entertaining, never knowing what may happen.” she said lost in thought, “perhaps later you will show me some of the footwork, or arm movements.”

“If you wish your majesty, but it is nothing so grand. They drill us with the movements in Wallachia as children so that when we first pick up a sword we would be ready to use it.” He stated, somewhat modestly given how difficult he had found it to teach others. It was an intense matter of muscle control, and if one made a mistake they were forced to start from the beginning until they completed all the movements without flaws. “Even Anastasia could perform them at her age if she had been taught.”

“Perhaps I shall have you teach her.” The Queen responded, “So she does not grow bored either.” She smiled at him, “I do not understand how you soldiers bare it, this is just plain dull.”

“Surely her Highness keeps you busy enough without swinging through the halls of the palace,” he said with a bit of a smile, imagining a princess learning Wallachian martial techniques.

“During the day.” The Queen responded, “But remember she is but a child, and put to bed earlier, I grow tired of my books and I want something more exciting than just more books. The palace had feasts, dance, gossip and so much more.” She shrugged, “Do you know this land?”

“Only from books your majesty,” he said, shaking his head. “It doesn't seem to have much to interest people.”

She sighed, “Very well. I shall return to the ship then, for more books until dinner. You should come, stay on the Royal ship, surely you must be bored on the other.”

Jean nodded, unable to deny that he had indeed been bored. “Thank you your majesty. It would be my pleasure.”

The Queen returned to her ship, spending the next few hours doing little to nothing as she laid on her bed, that is when Ana did not take up her attention. As night finally fell, and another snowstorm approached, dinner was finally ready. The Queen sitting with her daughter waiting for the final guest.

Jean arrived just as the moon was beginning to fill the sky, entering the cabin with a smile. “Thank you for having me your majesty,” as he approached the table he knelt down and grinned to Ana. “And thank you your Highness.”

Ana smiled, “Hello.” she said as the queen rose and offered the knight to stand up likewise. “Worry not, the pleasure will be all mine, I am sure.” She said as she smiled and nodded towards the chair, three of them standing around a round table of no great size, but just enough for them all. The cabin had been warmed, allowing the Queen to no longer wear her fur coats, instead wearing something similar but simpler to what she wore the first they met. It was more pleasant, less strict, more loose. It was an attire for private, rather than public. Candles filled the room along with a fire, there was plenty of food on a longer side table, a roasted pig taking up the center for the three of them to enjoy with various side dishes. A feast fit for highborns.

Jean picked up a plate, “Can I get the two of you anything?”

“The pig.” Ana quickly said as she looked at it hungrily, not really caring for the rest making her mother laugh. “I shall have the same, though a bit of fruit as well” As the Queen and her daughter sat down, the ship began rocking gently as they sailed once more.

Jean filled their plates, getting a large helping of pork for himself, before bringing it over to the table and taking a seat. “I can't say I've ever seen such fine food on a ship your majesty.” He said with a laugh.

“We shall not eat the food of the common rabble.” She laughed as well as she began to slowly eat, while Ana kept to her manners for a bit before she also starting eating heartily. The Queen herself waved as the servants left the room, despite this then music started playing from another room. “Who needs servants when we have you to so gallantly perform.” She said, as she looked at the wine in front of her, and another keg that was at the table, filled with ale. “Which do you prefer, wine or ale? It’s Dwarven.”

Jean thought for a moment. “Ale will suit me fine.” He filled a flagon for himself and looked at the queen and princess. “And for you two?”

She looked at him for a moment before smirking and asking in a teasing voice “You wish for me alone so much you would put my daughter to sleep with drink?” raising an eyebrow.

Jean, surprised at the queen’s judgment of him, shook his head. “I didn't...your majesty...that is, in Wallachia children often take drink with water.”

She just laughed at his response, “I shall have some wine.” She said before looking at her daughter in thought and turning back to him. “I think ale may be too much, some watered wine will do.”

Quickly hoping to move past the embarrassment he poured wine in both of their glasses, filling Ana’s with mostly water, before sitting down. “How have you enjoyed the trip so far Ana?” He asked before taking a bite of the pork.

She nodded, “Mother and nanny has read many stories.” She said exited, Anne a bit less so, she loved her daughter with all her heart, but you could only read the same stories retold so many times. “I saw fishes.”

“Did you?” Jean asked excitedly, himself being used to dealing with children due to his many younger siblings. “I bet they were pretty, Azeratii has all the prettiest fishes.”

Ana nodded before jumping off her chair and running over to the side, almost falling as the ship rocked, before grabbing some paper and showing him. “Look.” She said, as she she had painted the fish among other things, including the guards, the camp, and her mother walking around with Jean in it.

“Is that me? And her majesty?” He asked “That's lovely, you're quite the artist. I could never draw well myself.”

“Its easy.” The princess said, “You just draw what you see, look.” she said before the Queen told her to sit back down and finish her dinner before it got cold as she sipped her wine.

He looked to the queen. “Her Highness is quite wise.”

“She is very talented” the queen confirmed as Ana began eating again, with Anne slowly eating her food. “I hope it's to your liking.”

“Very much so your majesty.” He said, already having eaten more than half of his plate. “We rarely have food like this in the Guard...it reminds me of home.”

As Anne took another piece of pork, Ana quickly working to finish her own plate Anne looked at Jean “Tell me about your home.”

“It was not much, a manor in a small town at the feet of the mountains on the border with Norseland. But my mother and father took good care of us. We did well enough that I could be sent to foster in the south and learn about war.” He shrugged. “There is not much to say after having spent time in Azeratii.”
The Queen leaned forward, placing the palm of her hand against her cheek, “Tell me about it all the same, your mother, father, home, siblings.” She said excited.

Jean paused, thinking for a moment. “My father was a tall man, popular with the people of the town, but not very good with money. He loved us, but could be quite frivolous. My mother is who I owe everything too though, she has genuine courage and ability.” He paused to sip his ale. “I have an older brother, though he takes more after my father. I also have two younger brothers and four younger sisters, though I haven't seen them recently enough to know how they have turned out.”

“You are blessed with a large family.” The Queen said before a knock on the door, Ana’s nanny coming to bring her to bed, with Anne hugging and giving her daughter a kiss before she went to her own room, but not before waving at Jean. The Queen sipped some more wine, “Do you miss them?”

“That is a tough question to answer my queen. I work in the Guard to send them money, and if they are to have real options in life I must rise, so can I say that I miss them when I do this for them?” Jean twirled his knife in his hand, a rather uncultured habit that he had not yet shirked. “I would like to see them again some time, but not if it sacrificed my position.”

Last time he was sympathetic, now it was her turn. “It must be hard having all of that on your shoulders, to care for an entire family on such a low wage. Do you ever wish it was different? To have a family of your own, or someone for yourself.” She asked, hail on the outside hitting against the windows to the cabin. “What would you do if you were not bound by your family’s needs.”

“I still must follow my star,” he said with a grin. “I do not think that love is for me for that reason.”

She smiled at him as her eyes seemed to stare througha him before she returned to the present, having been lost in memory. “When I was little I used to dream of love, of a big wedding and a large family, but mostly to have someone that I loved.” She took a sip of her wine, “But now I am no longer that little girl, love has its place, but I do not follow it, I no longer believe it guides or must be present.” She took a sip of her wine, “My husband has my support, because my son will own all that is his, but I no longer love him, I haven't for some time.”

“It is a lucky thing to have had love at all at least,” he offered. “ Many never even find that, and there are other things to drive oneself.”

“No doubt.” She said with a grin, “Much more self fulfilling ones at that.” She finished as she took another sip, “I take it from your comments you never found the lost treasure of love.”

“You take it correctly your majesty.” He finished his ale and wiped his mouth, not bothering to mention that he was nearly married not long ago. “But when you consider how many go missing searching for that treasure, perhaps it is for the best.”

She shrugged, “Maybe, but some say a treasure is worth it.” She said with a smile, “And by all means, please take more, I do not drink ale or at least not often.”

“Thank you your majesty, but my thirst has been sated.” He looked at her curiously. “If I may ask. What is it that you hope to accomplish in Galadriel?”

She shrugged, “To restore some fraction of friendly relations I suppose.” She said before shaking her head, “My husband made somewhat of a mess which now needs to be dealt with.” She took another sip “my mother-in-law seemed worried, so I suggested it, if only to calm her.”

Jean nodded understandingly. “I've heard Galadriel is quite beautiful, if it's any consolation.”

“So I heard.” She responded, smiling as she thought of it before giving a slight nod. “An unending green forest, flowers in bloom, nature by your side, magnificent trees standing tall and proud.”

“Plus,” he added, somewhat meaning to tease her. “I imagine there will be plenty of snow.”

She feigned dread, even as a smile stayed on her lips “Clearly I shall need something to keep me warm, or I shall succumb to the most horrible cold.”

“I would have thought your furs were enough to keep an entire village warm,” he replied with a chuckle.

She chuckled with him, “At times the royal skin can be most sensitive to the cold, even if covered in furs.”

Jean smiled. “Then surely her Highness must be our top priority, as so young a child.”

Her chuckled continued for a bit more “Her Highness is my top concern, so far that she has even been granted furs of my own to keep her warm at night. Not to mention the servants constantly attending on her, ensuring her every need.”

“Ah, so I must see to you, as the servants are busy then I suppose?” He asked, relaxing in his chair.

She grinned, almost from ear to ear, “So you must, for else the queen shall suffer and you would not want you queen to be left wanting.”

“Of course not your majesty,” he said sincerely before smirking. “If I did I would never be promoted.”

She tilted her head, her grin still present. “So is promotion all you seek?” She asked, “Only the most devoted servants receive rewards, those that labour all day and night in servitude.”

“I have been told that I'm quite a hard worker.” He stated simply.

“You shall have to prove that to me, and I shall be the judge, I do not grant favours on hearsay.” She responded as she looked at him. “If you are such a hard worker, I have no doubt you can easily show it.”

Jean raised his hand to his heart, looking hurt. “Have I not served your majesty admirable over the past week, since we set sail?”

She leaned forward, clearing enjoying it as evident by her smile, “Evidently not.”

“Then I shall have to endeavor to do a better job.” He said, smiling back. “I would not want your majesty to be disappointed with my service.”

She rose from her chair, the music in the background still playing as she turned her back to him and went over, looking out over the river. “As you must always follow your star, where does it guide you?”

“Not always your majesty,” he answered with a laugh. “Though I did guide me to Linwë’s party, and to you.”

Her grin could be seen in the window's reflection. “If you are not guided tonight, instead a man of your own, how will serve?”

Jean stood up, stepping behind Anne. “I must keep my queen warm and entertained,” he said as he wrapped his arms around her. “I think I can think of something.”

Anne leaned against him, enjoying the moment as her hands went over his arms, reaching down her dress before she stopped. “I.. I.. I can't.” she said her voice weakening.

“I’m sorry,” Jean said, stepping back with a frown. “I had thought you wanted me to.”

Her hand was shaking as she went over and sat down on the bed “I do.” She just said short.

“And yet the king,” he finished for her, sighing and crossing his arms. “I thought you said you had no feelings for each other.”

Her hand still shook as she tried to calm it with the her and looked up at him, the worry and fear in her eyes even before he spoke. “It’s not love, it’s fear.” She said as a tear rolled down her cheek, “You don't know what they can do, do you?” She asked.

“There's nothing to fear your majesty,” he said as he walked over, gently brushing the tear away. “Who is they, what would they do? You know I would not tell anyone.”

“Oh the creator, my poor boy, Ares, I can't.” She said quickly, sobbing “My father, for if he did not.” She spoke quickly with heavy breaths trying to contain her tears “my house would be torn down.” She just shook her head as more tears rolled down, “I cannot, if Varian was ever to doubt me, he would never look at Ares the same, Varian would never forgive me, my son would never forgive me for casting doubt on his birthright, his future.”

Taking a seat next to her, Jean took one of her hands in his and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “Then take heart your majesty, there are other ways to stay warm and entertained. I will read you histories of the Golden Legions, we may play cards, practice your bladework perhaps,” He laughed about the last suggestion. “And soon you will have the wonders of the elves to occupy your time.”

She nodded, “forgive me, Jean.” She said as she leaned her head against his shoulder and her sobbing began to come under her control once more.

The knight shook his head. “No apology is necessary, you've done nothing wrong your majesty.” He squeezed her hand. “Come, let us discuss happier things.”

 

[Plutonium95]

A missive arrives before Deagrin Victor under the High Mountain bearing the seal of the Royal House of Coamenel.

​

​

Deagrin Victor, High King of Highathar, Underking of the High Mountain, Lord of the Dwarven Clans of Highathar,

We have been informed by Our border guards that your vassals, the dwarves of Yurdaest, have began a campaign of raids against elven trade in the west. Surely you understand that this cannot be be allowed to continue, and if it should then it is Our duty to defend the property of the elven people, by whatever means that might acquire. We write to you in the hopes that your majesty will be restoring order to your realm in good order, and if you cannot that you will accept Our offer of aid in doing so. Long have the people of Highathar and Galadriel had an interest in the continued stability of each other's lands, and We hope to see this mutual interest continue.

May the Light watch over you,

Nienna Coamenel, Queen of the Elves, Lady of the Forest, and Lord of the Light.

 

[BlackBishop]

Spoiler: GM Note

Taking a break for a couple days, chip away at some ICs and a new map. No deadline as of yet, but the earlier the orders the better. Haven't forgot about you @JamesStirling, your stats are coming.

Here's a little sneak peek on what I've been working on...

Spoiler

 

[DeMarchese]

Spoiler

I cannot even express how awesome you are and how great this game has become.

 

[Olligarchy]

Spoiler: GM Note

Taking a break for a couple days, chip away at some ICs and a new map. No deadline as of yet, but the earlier the orders the better. Haven't forgot about you @JamesStirling, your stats are coming.

Here's a little sneak peek on what I've been working on...

Spoiler

Spoiler: OOC

Looks great!

Spoiler

I cannot even express how awesome you are and how great this game has become.

Spoiler: OOC

I foresee someone getting double xp...

 

[BlackBishop]

[/SPOILER=GM Note]
Progress on the new map is coming along nicely... Some things have changed as you will be able to tell, a consequence of reformatting the map i suppose, though I did try to keep it as similar to the last map as possible. As you can see the West has shrunk considerably, chalk it up to a eastern biased cartographer.

Spoiler

[/SPOILER]

 

[Sneakyflaps]

((I love.))

 

[BlackBishop]

Spoiler: Map

 

[Sneakyflaps]

Counseling on Deaf Ears​

”Now is the time, their Jarl is missing, their army weak, we must strike.” Eklow said, looking across the table in the heated debate.

“Must I remind Your Lordship that we have a treaty with Stronghelm, agreed upon borders which grants them the ability to trade with us.” Rivers responded looking back at the young Baron.

“We had a treaty with Jarl Bethod the now bloodied, not with Stronghelm. There is no unified government, don’t fool yourself, they change Jarls as often as we change underwear.” Clare said as he learned forward looking directly at Rivers. “There have already been reports that the lords seek to reclaim the land which Bethod ceded. We must act before they do.”

“And risk war, thousands of men dead for snow?” Rodney replied shaking his head as he looked across the table before over towards the wall, “Your Majesty, the live of a single of your subject is not worth that unforsaken dirt.” Varian was drumming his fingers over a large map that had been put up, hanging over the wall picturing Norselands, his fingers on Stronghelm, imagining the glory of conquest and writing his name into history as one of the greatest generals in history, a fantasy he quite liked.

“It is the worth of His Majesty’s subjects that forces our hand, with Bethod dead we are left with no other choice.” Eklow interrupted, and within a moment Clare backed him up.

“We cannot allow to make the same mistakes which the Elves so happily made only for them to be haunted for a millennium. We border Norseland now, not the Elves, we cannot let our subjects be at their mercy and their raids for the next hundred years. We take Stronghelm and we control who passes south, we end the threat before it begins and we secure our lands and permanently end the Norse threat.”

“You speak of conquest?” Astof said looking at with a grin at Eklow. “You who had a dozen and half men wounded trying to capture a women and a girl?” Eklow coudnt help but laugh in the most arrogant way Varian had heard for a long time.

“Perhaps if you had done your duty and given me the supplies you were commanded to, they would have been spared their wounds. Instead you gave excuses and short fallings which in your old age has shown to be a common trait, you are unfit for your office.” Eklow said as Rivers raised his hand to calm the two as he now spoke.

“My lords.” Rivers took a pause “Bethod has a wife, let us support her, ensure that her reign rests on our graces, that her life is bound to us, let us not waste men when we can gain more with diplomacy and gifts.” Making Clare sigh deeply and roll his eyes.

“We tried that, for a decade under King Ares, only for Halfmoon to be slaughtered like dogs. No more, we have tried it too many times, every Norse Jarl acts like a dog fighting over a broken bone that is their Crown, we cannot trust them, we must act. We do not deal with the Norse, we deal with individuals like in the times of old, let it end. We must act!” Making others around the table slam their fists against the table in agreement.

“Your Majesty” Rivers said, hoping to gain the support of his king as Eklow sighed, knowing he had made a mistake as Varian’s hand ran down the map slowly, as the king stood with his back towards them. “Assemble the army.” Were the only words Varian uttered before nodding to himself with a wide smile as he left the council chamber, while the counselors all began to disperse as Rodney placed a hand on River’s shoulder.

“Fret not too much, old friend. You saw the king, he is a young man and like all those monarchs and princes before him, and all those yet to come. Longing for glory and prestige on the field of battle, and we must be there to provide it for him.” Rodney said before giving him a smile. “Fear not, we might have lost this argument but diplomacy may yet prevail.”

 

[BlackBishop]

Spoiler: GM Note

Apologies for my inactivity last week. Things have settled down a bit, and I intend to get the short order update out by the end of the week. Please submit your orders as soon as you can.

 

[BlackBishop]

Commentaries on the Holy Doctrines
Volume II

by
Ailmar Elayra
formerly,
High Mage of the Order of Light​

Permeating the Holy Doctrines of Light one can find the constant of Duality throughout. Light and Dark, Good and Evil, Order and Chaos; these are the obvious polarities prevalent across all creation. This volume of my commentary focuses upon a more subtle aspect of duality and that being 'As Above so Below.' To put it more simply, this is the belief that the divine is reflected across all creation.

"As it is in Heaven, so it is upon Agorath." ~ Light One to the disciple Matheu, Holy Doctrine of Light, Book 4:14

Imagine yourself standing in a bare field looking upon a single tree. The trunk rises up from the ground and branches stretch out across the air as if to catch the sun. One who has never seen a tree might assume that the tree begins at the point where it meets the ground. Yet we know that is not the case, the tree is rather mirrored with a network of roots below reflecting the branches above.

What is in the heavens is reflected here upon Agorath. This is why the stargazers across time have been able to discern events on the world by mapping the stars. An epiphany I myself came to upon staring upon the Glass Lakes of Mirrorwater, and seeing the stars reflected from above. In the Age of Mythos it was largely the Light One that had dominion over the skies and the Sun, and the Dark One that had dominion of Agorath and below, yet this is not entirely the case. Many of the old texts tell of Gods ruling over both, as is seen clearly with the first Doctrines, where the Light One chases the Dark One across the sky, creating night and day. The two great Gods, reflections of each other yet polar opposites.

This dual aspect can be altered into a deeper meaning, As without so within. Think of yourself and your environment. What surrounds you also shapes you, molds you into the person you are; your thoughts, your beliefs, your values. Likewise, you have the power to manipulate and change what is around you to reflect these thoughts, beliefs, and values. You are but a lens, siphoning what is without into your heart, and vice versa.

Knowing this then, we can see the divinity within us all, for we are creatures of the Gods. If our world, we ourselves, are Their creation, we can draw parallels between other creations such as a tree. For we have branches that span to the Light, and roots that dig into Darkness, in a manner of speaking. These polarities are within us all. Adhering to this natural law, it can be deduced that the concept of heaven, therefore, resides within us all - as much as it can be said to be an astral plane far removed.

I believe that achieving balance is this inner heaven, but if As above is below or What is within is without, then this bares a possibility not previously considered to my knowledge. Is it not plausible then, that the grievous crimes of our ancestors perpetrated upon the Gods that led to their exile, did not stir their flight to somewhere far removed? I hold that they may be hidden closer then we realize.

The Gods dwell within us all.

 

[BlackBishop]

Spoiler: GM Note

Last call for orders. Aiming to have in-thread update up this weekend.

 

[GreatSlayer]

Peeking Behind the Curtain
Part 1
(A joint IC with Plutonium95 and Tapscott)
​

To Lindarel, Coal was an exotic adventure. The carefree young girl had been placed under the tutelage of her aunt, Evhana Mindrilla, as well as the queen of Elves. Two quite distinct personalities, yet both so kind, made the absence from Azeratii palace not feel too desperately dour. She had been staying in Coal ever since her older sister’s wedding, and taken the news of her family’s banishment with a measure of shock, but more so confusion. Not wanting to pick any side, she did what her mother had told her to do, and that is stay here and stay out of the family drama. The fresh dew in the air in the morning was quite distinct, as if the city was part of nature, rather than placed beside of it. She made a half-hearted curtsy towards one of the courtiers as she stepped into the elegant throne room. She dared not ask too much about it, nor about the court’s procedures, in fear of making a fool of herself in the presence of her family. To her older sister Anwën, all these things tended to come naturally. Narien she barely knew, and of course, her brother was the one creating the customs, thus it wasn’t exactly too hard for him to adjust for the circumstances.


Walking across the wall she remembered her studies, on how the great red haired queen had dazzled the courts of Light and reawakened the kingdom of Elves. What she couldn’t remember was if the throne room had been so magnificent from the start, of if that had been built upon later on through the years. The finer the walls, the thicker is the snake’s skin. She remembered her aunt often mentioning in her so often used words of caution. During the wedding, Evhana had never stood still, and as Nightshade offered Lindarel a rather different sort of education than she had been accustomed to. Her sage-like tutor had a certain kind of veiled honesty beneath her words, and it was hard to discern when she was speaking in truths, and when she was actively testing the acuity of Lindarel’s mind. She found it fresh and exciting, but today was no day for studies. Today was for adventures!


The courtroom had many adjacent hallways and hidden paths that led to solitary rooms for private audiences. They were often locked, but this day, Lindarel found a light flicker from one of them. She knocked, but no answer. She pushed it, yet no response. She peeked inside. Noone there. The desk was riddled with parchments and heaps of ledgers. It was a study well used, by someone quite busy she imagined.


“Anybody home?” She squeaked, and with little confidence, in case she must change into a defenceless little mouse that doesn’t know any better than to stumble across someone most inappropriately. The full aroma of old papers and aged leather filled her nostrils, and she couldn’t help but go further inside. Taking care to close the door after her, she investigated the contents of the study. Letters was strewn over the floor, some with peculiar draconian seals, and some with leaves and flowers. Messages from different houses, some familiar, and some completely foreign. Clearly, someone with an ambassador like profession was at work in here. Just as Lindarel was about to investigate the bookshelf, she heard the steps outside. In panic she darted around looking for somewhere to hide, feeling not confident in any space. Finally, she climbed behind one of the curtains, and peeped through the fabric, as three figures stepped inside. She should have announced herself, but she couldn’t resist the urge to weather this moment in full, and listen to the grownups talk business in truths. Her aunt entered just behind the queen, and after them her cousin made their entry.


“It seems my son hasn’t found just the right partner yet. He wanders aimlessly around a dozen courts in hunt for the right lady to bear his name, but none to be found! I beg of you, my queen. You must help us in this regard. I would be forever in your debt.” Evhana said, as she looked around the room with a piercing gaze, making Lindarel swallow hard. She was well concealed, for the light of the candles fell upon the curtain, not behind it. She saw them well, but not the other way around. The queen, dressed for court in an exquisitely designed blue dress, embroidered with fine silver roses along the billowing sleeves, crossed her arms and looked from Evhana to Cacame.


“No ladies to be found across dozens of courts?” She asked with some clear amusement in her voice. “Cacame, what is it that you seek in a bride?” The young Elf rubbed his hand across his face wearily. Her cousin looked wan and rather sickly, and it was clear that he had lost some weight since they had last met during Anwën’s wedding.


”What I seek? I’m not too sure. A woman that doesn’t see me only to be a way to move up in the world would be ideal. I suppose I best get someone of good breeding stock, who can bear me quite a few children. It would be nice if we got along too.” The disinterest in his tone was clear, his expression one of resignation. This confused Lindarel, as she was of the understanding that men rather enjoyed making children, albeit not necessarily caring or spending much time with them. The queen but frowned, leaning against the edge of the desk.


“I believe most people hope to get along with their future spouse, dear. Is there nothing else? Should she sing well, have a hand for painting, or reading?” She smiled warmly to him. “I must have something to go on or I fear we will end up sending you off to a dozen further courts without any gain.” Evhana chuckled.


“Don’t care about her smelling. That can at least be cured with the proper ointments and perfumes.” Nienna’s nose crinkled.


“Yes... Well luckily I know few young ladies with odour problems, so that should not be much of an issue.” Cacame chuckled in response, the noise rumbling at the back of his throat.


“Thank you for trying to make the process more pleasant.” Lindarel too must quell a short laugh. She could imagine giving Nienna a proper noun to her title. Queen Nienna, the matchmaker. The smiles did however pass from the young Elf prince’s lips. “However marriage is not something I particularly want to do Aunty. It’s something I know I must. I’m mother’s heir after all so I need to start… Siring some children sooner rather than later.” Scratching his head, he looked down at the table. “I suppose a woman who is of the quieter type, not one who is intent on hosting balls and dinners every second evening. A woman that is dutiful and will not…” He cleared his throat awkwardly. “...Will not care if I do not stay in her presence very often.” Evhana placed her hand in Cacame’s direction, as if to beckon him to reason.


“Isn’t that just the type of woman you’d rather not have? One ambitious, reaching for both rank and standing. Surely one of those would be willing to do anything for you, including their absence.” Waving his hand dismissively he snorted.


“Sounds like a woman that would simply use me rather than see to my interests… Not to mention that she may try to make me wear the horns. I may not be interested in marriage but I shan’t be cuckolded… In the end though mother I would rather leave the choice to you two. You are both women, and experienced stateswomen at that. I’m sure you know what I need better than I do myself.”


“Be that as it may…” Nienna said, brushing her elegant red hair back. “… your happiness is certainly a factor Cacame. If you wish for a lady who is humbler and content, that can certainly be considered. Even if you are not able to find love in your marriage, you should at least have someone with whom you might become good friends.” She turned her gaze to Evhana, tilting her head questioningly. “Do you not agree?” Evhana nodded.


“A marriage without communication is a liability to be sure. A spouse should be your closest advisor, and someone you’re able to set a common goal with. That’s how you stay strong in this world.” Nienna nodded, not saying anything for a time as she debated over prospects no doubt.


“I don’t assume your visits have taken you to the Lavellans of Mountainshadow, have they?”



“The Lavellans?” Cacame asked. “No, I haven’t met any of them I believe.” He said with some measure of doubt in his voice. “Do you have a member of their house in mind?” The queen smiled.


“I wouldn’t have thought so. They are quite the introverted bunch. The Therain has a daughter a few years younger than yourself. Evanura is her name. She warded here for a short time alongside Anwën and the two could not have been less alike.” Nienna laughed to herself. “Where Anwën was all boldness and fire, Evanura preferred to sit quietly at my side during court and paint in the gardens when she was free. In truth, I had thought that she and Armas seemed a more agreeable match, at least at the time, but I do believe that she has not yet taken any serious suitors.” Nienna quickly added. “But she’s a lovely young woman as well, at least when I last saw her.” Cacame gazed at Nienna thoughtfully, his eyes slightly glazed as he chewed on his bottom lip. Nodding to himself he glanced at his mother worriedly before turning back to Nienna.


“...It probably isn’t proper of me to ask this, but did she look fertile? Does the family have a history of bearing many children? It shan’t do me much good if I try and court her only to find we cannot conceive.” Lindarel found his questions odd and eerily placed. He seemed very intent that the young woman was fertile. Had he perhaps tried with another woman before and seen nothing sprout? Or was he looking to plant his seeds as little as possible and necessary? Then again, he was the last one to bear his father’s name, and his mother’s only son. It would make sense he’d be very intent for her to bear him children as soon as she possibly can. Evhana was after all often frank about the strength that lies in a healthy offspring for any young noble, a speck of wisdom she didn’t hesitate to share with her young ward.


“She is the youngest of seven.” Nienna offered with something of a shrug. “And while she was only fourteen when she left back for Mountainshadow she had begun developing something of a womanly figure.” Lindarel lamented the fact it’d be at least two more years before she’d look anything like this Evanura then. Anwën was a late, but raging, bloom, and so was her sister Narien. “There is no reason to be so nervous.” The queen ended with a wide grin growing across her face. Evhana only leaned back at the desk and took a contemplating stance.


“It certainly has been quiet from Mountainshadow ever since the war. And a neighbour to us at that. It’s both politically, and logistically, a sound place to start. What say you, son? Will you attempt to court this girl?” He nodded slowly in response.


“She sounds like the best choice by far. If her personality is still the same since you last met her, Aunty, I daresay she and I will be able to get along just fine.” Smiling wanly, he gestured at his sunken eyes and cheeks, the toll of sleepless nights and uneaten meals clear on his features. Perhaps, Lindarel pondered, the battle with the Nords, had taken a stringent toll on him. He seemed a decade older just from the start of this conversation alone.


“I may have to change my appearance for her benefit though. Would be hard to woo her if I look like a half-starved fool.” Nienna laughed again, waving a dismissive hand.


“A week of good food and sleep and you will look the dashing prince that you always have been. Never fear.” Evhana’s face lit up in a smile, as she slowly clapped her hands excitedly.


“Well, well! This went so well, making me wonder why didn’t we do this earlier. Thank you, my queen. You’ve blessed your vassal a great deal of peace in her otherwise so burdened life. I will have a message sent for the girl to come to Coal at once!” She walked over to her son, and placed a hand upon his shoulder. “Do not fret, my child. I am sure she will find you as magnificent as you deserve to be seen. Will you leave me and the queen to continue business of the realm? Perhaps to go get something to eat?” Glancing at her out of the corner of his eye he nodded. Pushing himself up from the table he gave Nienna and his mother a faint smile. Lindarel knew a dishonest smile when she saw it...

((Short summary: The young princess Lindarel eaves-drops on a conversation she propably would have done best in avoiding... Evhana's heir is matched with a possible bride, the Therain's daughter of Mountainshadow.))

 

[GreatSlayer]

Peeking Behind the Curtain
Part 2
(A joint IC with Plutonium95 and Tapscott)
​

“I suppose I will see you two later. Take care.” Giving his mother a quick peck on the cheek, Cacame walked out of the room, gently closing the door behind him. As the boy left, her aunt rubbed gently at her own temples and sighed, long and hard. Her tone shifted, from uplifted and cheery, to dull and matte in her voice, one Lindarel couldn’t recollect even once hearing before.


“Please, by the Light, let my boy fall shaft first into this girl and bear her with child on accident. By the Creator, lest it happens this way, I doubt it’ll even happen at all!” Trying to push the image out of her mind, Lindarel found the atmosphere in the room having changed. Marriage is much like politics. It’s not exactly private, and it’s not exactly exclusive. But now, the subject matter was much more intimate in nature, and she felt the pang of guilt for even being in the room. She felt the cold enclosing sensation, but had to weather it. She had hidden for so long, if they’d find her now, it would just be so much worse. The queen nodded, frowning.


“The whole matter seemed to unnerve him like I have never seen. Is something wrong?” She asked. Evhana snorted, crossing her arms as she spoke just above her voice, quiet and metallic, speaking quietly while keeping her gaze against the floor.


“Perhaps the lack of his father’s influence has left him confused on what to do. Quicksilver was anything but hesitant, and he would take as many women as there were meals in a day if he could.” She leaned her head back and gazed up at the roof, as she sat upon the desk. “Perhaps it’s the duality of the Light and Dark, for one must be opposite to the other for the other to exist.” She shrugged. “Or he has befallen the Saxon’s curse and have no eyes for women whatsoever. As unlikely as that sounds.”


“Then I suppose that we must hope that Evanura has become more...outgoing?” The queen offered. Evhana but grinned.


“You want her to scare the poor boy? I hoped war would toughen him up, but not even that could inflame his heart into desire.” She cocked her head to the side and stared at Nienna. “If he don’t get a child both my name will extinguish, and his claim to Yurdaest vanish like a rumour upon a gust of wind. If we’re to gain stability in that kingdom, perhaps this is our way of ensuring it for good.”


“You...still look to Yurdaest with all that has happened?” Nienna asked hesitantly. “I had thought to contact the High King, that we might bring an end to their raids through some cooperative action, but surely we cannot expect those dwarves to submit to Cacame’s claim, no matter how legitimate.” Evhana trailed her nail upon the desk as she remained in deep thought. The queen seemed to follow the motion with some strange interest.


“The memory of my son will never fade if his brother would take up the mantle of his legacy. And I will not do the same mistake twice and leave him to fend for himself.” She smacked her lips. “Perhaps it’s not yet time to press this claim, but unless we act with force, the signal we send to the world is that Elves can be pushed to whatever. We can ill afford show any sign of weakness in light of these events.” She looked down at some papers on the desk, taking one out of the piles. “I do have on safe authority the Orcs plan to move on the Dwarf homes themselves, and I suspect they aren’t looking for any High King’s blessing either.” Nienna craned her neck to look over at the paper Evhana was holding. Lindarel clenched her fists, praying to the Light and the Dark, even to Eccles, Jacob, and any troll deity that may linger on this earth she wouldn’t be spotted.


“Surely we are better than the orcs.” The queen contented, seeming unimpressed with the suggestion of using violence to resort the issue. “I had meant to write to the High King after discussing the matter with your sister and yourself, but, well...Eylinn has been rather busy.” Evhana’s breathing deepened and could be heard as far as behind the curtain, as her gaze moved from the paper, and up towards the encroaching queen.


“I do not know if she has yet learnt of the Dwarven intrusion. But even Eylinn cannot oppose of us taking action on behalf of protecting Elf kind.” Evhana leaned back her head and looked Nienna in the eyes and grinned. “What say you? Does she deserve the way her family’s treated her lately?”


“Certainly not,” Nienna answered quickly, as she moved ever closer, seeming but offering the paper an empty stare. Lindarel, was, confused. “I could not imagine if Armas were to make a similar decree against me. However, Varian may have felt about it, one can’t deny that Eylinn’s motives were pure.”


“Do you often imagine him on the Ecclestian throne?” Evhana smirked, teasingly. “To think you had such high ambitions for your son? Is that why you agreed for him to marry my niece? Have I rubbed off well on you after all these years?” Nienna could not help but giggle, blushing slightly.


“That is not how I meant it Evhana. I agreed for them to marry so that they might be happy. If anyone has ambitions for the Ecclestian throne I’m sure it would be Anwën herself, so perhaps Armas will one day end up there.” Evhana raised an eyebrow, showing some teeth.


“There’d be Mindrilla everywhere. Queens, princesses, why not empresses while we’re at it? The caller on the summer feast would have a nightmare to keep up with all the titles.” Her aunt now seemed ill content with the distance between herself and the queen. She scuffled up her dress, and gently with the motion of her leg, pulled Nienna closer. It was returned with a smile, as Nienna leaned in closer, placing a hand on Evhana’s thigh.


“I’m sure that Varian would have something to say about that unfortunately.” As Lindarel witnessed Evhana stroking Nienna’s throat, and the conspiratorial debate regarding her brother, she was already regretting leaving her room at all this morning. She very much doubted this was how friends acted against one another, and hardly some way in which women are meant to touch one another.


“I’ll listen to him when he’ll have something reasonable to say.” Evhana stilted. “He’s far too like his father for my liking. And if he intends on treating us like rivals and enemies, I shall treat him in kind.” She said with a confident smile. Nienna sighed heavily at Evhana’s touch.


“We do not want to be needlessly antagonistic though.” Evhana enclosed the distance between her and Nienna’s lips.


“Oh, when have I ever been antagonistic?”


“Once or twice, I can think of,” Nienna answered breathlessly, leaning just enough to allow her lips to lightly brush Evhana’s, to which she responded with a chuckle.


“Only to keep things interesting… It’s my ability to disarm people when they least expect it.” She said, lightly pressing her mouth upon Nienna’s for a short peck. No longer of a mind for talking, Nienna simply wrapped her arms around Evhana and kissed her fully, pressing her over the desk as paper and books flew across the room. After a time she broke the kiss and looked the Therain of Mirrorwater in the eyes.


“You must come to Coal more often.”


“You’re giving me every reason to, I must admit, it’s hard to res…” Lindarel was pushing herself against the window, and her heart skipped a beat at the sound of the glass pressing against the frame. Too late, for her aunt had already stopped mid-sentence. “Did you hear that?” She whispered.


“Huh? Hear what?” Nienna asked, confused. Lindarel took a deep, slow, inaudible breath, and lost all balance. In a dashing motion she fell upon the fabric and clenched at it by full force. The bar which held up the curtains loosened from the wall, and everything turned dark and chaotic as she fell forward against the floor. Disoriented, Lindarel groaned and was met by the sound of the queen making a startled yell.


“Damnit!” Lindarel barely dared to move, and she stopped breathing entirely as the curtain was jerked away. There stood Evhana, her face twisted in a terrible rage, holding a knife aimed against her. All blood rushed to Lindarel’s brain, as she summoned all her power to try and breathe again.


“Lindarel?!” Evhana exclaimed as she saw the thirteen-year-old.


“Forgive me! Forgive me!” Lindarel tried. “I’m sorry, sorry, sorry!” She squealed. She must feign ignorance, and feign it well. “I was only out exploring, and I got in here, because I didn’t know what to do until supper, and then you people started talking outside the door, and I was hiding, and you wouldn’t leave or stop talking so I kept quiet, but then I couldn’t move, and I didn’t want to intrude, and I got scared…” Barely hearing herself talking, she could feel the two women watching her, rambling with no end in sight. Nienna took a few shaky breaths, trying to calm herself from the adrenaline dump.


“I-It’s fine Lindarel. Are you alright?” She asked, bending down to offer her a hand up, her cheeks burning red. The princess took Nienna’s hand and pulled herself up to her feet.


“I-I’m f-fine, your m-majesty. I c-couldn’t p-possibly have known I-I’d intrude. I-I didn’t mean to…” Her aunt’s face was flushed red, like a particularly angry tomato. Lindarel would had found it very amusing, hadn’t she been terrified.


“What did you see, girl? What did you hear?” She growled, leading the young princess to utter something closer to a squeal than a real voice.


“I… I…” She nodded vigorously. “I promise to not tell anyone! Not a soul!” They knew she had seen everything. Heard everything. There’s no point in trying to feign ignorance. She only hoped there’d be mercy to spare, for her to keep her head in the end. Nienna turned away in a flash, raising her hands to cover her face, which had grown as red as her hair. She opened her mouth to speak, but didn’t seem to be able to conjure up anything to say that would help the situation. Evhana was shaking, almost as much as Lindarel, still holding her knife out. She sighed dejectedly, as she sat down on one knee, and looked at the girl with a decisive gaze.


“You better not, girl. All that you heard, or seen, or thought to have seen, simply did not happen. Do you understand the consequences should anything you witnessed, in this room, come out? All talk of Dwarves, spouses…” Evhana swallowed hard. “...friendly conversation between a vassal and her queen.” Lindarel nodded, still not able to stop shaking.


“Y-Yes… Y-Yes aunt Evhana. I-I w-won’t say a word.” And she meant it. She had never meant anything this decisively in her whole life. She looked over at Nienna, still in a panicked state. “I’m sorry!” Taking a deep breath, still profoundly embarrassed, Nienna turned back to them.


“It... really is all right, dear. Just please... Don’t say anything. I would consider it a great favour.” Lindarel nodded, again, quite anxiously, before making her way towards the door. Just as freedom was about to waff through the creaks of the door, Evhana’s chilling and reverberating voice had one last thing to say.


“See you at dinner.” It said, and Lindarel knew this wasn’t said out of courtesy. It seemed childhood had ended quite early, and quite abruptly, for the young princess of Ecclestius...

((Short summary: Lindarel witnesses something she most definitely shouldn't have, and in the process overhear some of the plans and gossip going around the court of Coal. Cacame will be introduced to the courtier Evanura.))