Standing in the shadows of Market Square, the thaumaturge watched quietly as the zealots of the Black Church attempted to beat the life out of the Radiant Heart turned Outlaw. Patiently, he waited as second after second, the fanatics crushed the life from the gladiator. Briefly looking down at the parchment in his hand, he glanced between the image on the parchment and the man being attacked before him.
Confirming the identity of his target, he rolled the parchment up and slide it into one of the many concealed pockets within his robes. Stepping forward, he raised his hands and quietly began chanting, his voice drown out by the sounds of battle around him.
Seeing his mark weakened by the battle, he decided to take advantage and strike. Stepping back into the fibers of existence, Zhengyi let fly a swarm of meteors, dealing the death blow and stealing the life of Azriel.
Nodding in satisfaction, Zhengyi returned to the shadows, his job complete. Returning to the Keep of the Hoard, he was knew the Vox would be pleased to know that the contract that they had been given has been completed.
Secret Missives
Vorcet blinked his eyes a few times to clear them up. Even being dead reading through ancient tomes for days on end with no break wore on his vision. He let out a sigh and picked up his notes again. They were not much to go on, but at least he had found a few new places to look for further information regarding the planeswalkers of Netheril.
Vorcet closed the book in front of him and carried it back to its place in Elbryan's library. How Elbryan had managed to collect such a varied pile of books Vorcet would never know, and Elbryan was typically secretive about such things. There was one more library to check before trying out some of the leads he currently had and that was the Keepers Library itself.
Vorcet wandered up to the observatory accross from the office he had claimed as his in the upstairs of the Mansion to rest and gather his thoughts for a bit before heading back to the island. He pulled the lever that activated the machinery that pulled back the ceiling panels that afforded a view of the sky. Vorcet sat in the coushioned chair and put his feet up on the small table and closed his eyes.
Vorcet felt the slight tingling in his skin that warned of magic being used in close proximity and he opened his eyes to find a rolled piece of parchment floating in the air in front of his face. After a quick magical probe of the scroll and the magic holding it there, he grabbed the scroll and inspected the seal holding it closed. At his touch the wax melted and the scroll unfurled in his hand. The name at the bottom marked it as written by Sanria.
Vorcet read through the scroll and a smile spread slowly accross his face. When he was finished a quick incantation burned the scroll to cinders. Vorcet pulled his bag of holding from his belt and pulled a folded piece of cloth and helmet from it. Something he had acquired some time ago for just such an occasion.
Vorcet stuffed the clothing back into the bag and began preparing the incantation that would bring him back to his office on the island. The last attempts had petered out and failed. Perhaps this would be the time that the local balance would actually be restored.
Vorcet closed the book in front of him and carried it back to its place in Elbryan's library. How Elbryan had managed to collect such a varied pile of books Vorcet would never know, and Elbryan was typically secretive about such things. There was one more library to check before trying out some of the leads he currently had and that was the Keepers Library itself.
Vorcet wandered up to the observatory accross from the office he had claimed as his in the upstairs of the Mansion to rest and gather his thoughts for a bit before heading back to the island. He pulled the lever that activated the machinery that pulled back the ceiling panels that afforded a view of the sky. Vorcet sat in the coushioned chair and put his feet up on the small table and closed his eyes.
Vorcet felt the slight tingling in his skin that warned of magic being used in close proximity and he opened his eyes to find a rolled piece of parchment floating in the air in front of his face. After a quick magical probe of the scroll and the magic holding it there, he grabbed the scroll and inspected the seal holding it closed. At his touch the wax melted and the scroll unfurled in his hand. The name at the bottom marked it as written by Sanria.
Vorcet read through the scroll and a smile spread slowly accross his face. When he was finished a quick incantation burned the scroll to cinders. Vorcet pulled his bag of holding from his belt and pulled a folded piece of cloth and helmet from it. Something he had acquired some time ago for just such an occasion.
Vorcet stuffed the clothing back into the bag and began preparing the incantation that would bring him back to his office on the island. The last attempts had petered out and failed. Perhaps this would be the time that the local balance would actually be restored.
New Directions (1-2)
Sanria sent the missive to Kineada and Vorcet, then sat back in her chair. Nioma cooed contentedly on the floor, a rather quiet child by all measures. She closed her eyes. She had to talk to someone, and Enmach was far from helpful in matters where emotions were at stake. The silvery woman was so stoic as to be nearly useless when discussing matters close to the heart. Sanria did the best she could on her own, but nothing was working. Things at her home were falling apart, and if things fell apart there, they'd soon follow her to the castle. A situation she couldn't afford. "Fenlauch," she called in her mind, "Might I see you?"
The tall Rilmani entered her office with a friendly smile, his bright eyes shining from within as he looked at her. "I was very close, in case you were wondering."
Sanria managed a smile. She talked to Fenlauch at length about Colin and the black makou within him. "We've not found a way to clear it from his blood without killing him, and the one hope I thought we might have had has..." Sanria glanced at Nioma and back to Fenlauch. "Well, he's been absent for a long time now. I'm suffocating beneath Colin's fears and his insecurities to the point I'm lying to him to get away. I can't deal with it anymore."
"It makes sense, but the lies?"
"I really don't want to go into detail, but they're horrible."
"I see."
"Please tell me there's something you or your people can do. Anything."
She held her breath as Fenlauch put a hand to his chin. He looked at Sanria for a long time, as though sizing her up from the inside. She couldn't help but feel that he was measuring her worth, making some type of calculation as to how much he could truly trust her. At long last he spoke. "I can escort him to our home plane. We have brilliant minds that could look at him and perhaps determine a solution."
"Your... home plane? You mean he'd have to leave here?"
"It would appear that given your story, it's the only hope he has."
"Yes, but I don't know that he'll do it. He's..." Sanria sighed deeply.
"I believe if he is told what is at stake, he will go willingly. It sounds as though he cares deeply for his family."
"Obsessively so."
"Then he will have no other option but to see his last resort."
Sanria appeared in the large cavern opening to her home with Fenlauch at her side. The Rilmani took a moment to look around, nodding to himself.
"Pretty."
"I think so," she replied, opening the front door to bring them both inside. She gave a small smile as Fenlauch attempted to duck and squeeze through the doorways. While he could stand perfectly well within the home, doorways were far from nine-foot tall entrances. "If you don't mind waiting until I call for you, I think it would go over better," Sanria said, leading Fenlauch to the library. "Of course."
Sanria walked into the bedroom where Colin lay on the bed, sweating and turning in his sleep. He jerked awake as Sanria shook him lightly. He seemed utterly exhausted - she knew he would be. He always was when the darkness used him. She felt horrible. This particular episode was her fault entirely, but she couldn't carry the guilt. She had reached her breaking point as well. She could no longer live with Colin as he was. Something had to give, and it did.
At her call, Fenlauch walked in and Sanria watched the light scowl form on Colin's face. The black makou was already driving him once more to anger -Colin blamed Fenlauch for her desire to heal Westbridge. And once more, tiringly so, she had to beg him to stop. Miraculously, Colin did quiet his anger.
Fenlauch hadn't been told anything about her plans for Westbridge, but he refrained from saying anything more. He told Colin that they might be able to help him, and at Sanria's urgings, Colin finally chose to go. It took only moments for Fenlauch to cast an unintelligible spell and vanish through the fabric of reality with Colin behind him.
Sanria sat for a long moment on the bed where Colin had just lain. She knew she might never see him again. Though she had tired completely of the smothering black makou, all the anger, the outbursts, the distrust of everyone, she still loved Colin. If he could come back to her, without the other piece that she had grown to loathe, there would be hope for them. Still, if he never came back, she would be alone. She looked to her lap and finally let herself cry.
The tall Rilmani entered her office with a friendly smile, his bright eyes shining from within as he looked at her. "I was very close, in case you were wondering."
Sanria managed a smile. She talked to Fenlauch at length about Colin and the black makou within him. "We've not found a way to clear it from his blood without killing him, and the one hope I thought we might have had has..." Sanria glanced at Nioma and back to Fenlauch. "Well, he's been absent for a long time now. I'm suffocating beneath Colin's fears and his insecurities to the point I'm lying to him to get away. I can't deal with it anymore."
"It makes sense, but the lies?"
"I really don't want to go into detail, but they're horrible."
"I see."
"Please tell me there's something you or your people can do. Anything."
She held her breath as Fenlauch put a hand to his chin. He looked at Sanria for a long time, as though sizing her up from the inside. She couldn't help but feel that he was measuring her worth, making some type of calculation as to how much he could truly trust her. At long last he spoke. "I can escort him to our home plane. We have brilliant minds that could look at him and perhaps determine a solution."
"Your... home plane? You mean he'd have to leave here?"
"It would appear that given your story, it's the only hope he has."
"Yes, but I don't know that he'll do it. He's..." Sanria sighed deeply.
"I believe if he is told what is at stake, he will go willingly. It sounds as though he cares deeply for his family."
"Obsessively so."
"Then he will have no other option but to see his last resort."
Sanria appeared in the large cavern opening to her home with Fenlauch at her side. The Rilmani took a moment to look around, nodding to himself.
"Pretty."
"I think so," she replied, opening the front door to bring them both inside. She gave a small smile as Fenlauch attempted to duck and squeeze through the doorways. While he could stand perfectly well within the home, doorways were far from nine-foot tall entrances. "If you don't mind waiting until I call for you, I think it would go over better," Sanria said, leading Fenlauch to the library. "Of course."
Sanria walked into the bedroom where Colin lay on the bed, sweating and turning in his sleep. He jerked awake as Sanria shook him lightly. He seemed utterly exhausted - she knew he would be. He always was when the darkness used him. She felt horrible. This particular episode was her fault entirely, but she couldn't carry the guilt. She had reached her breaking point as well. She could no longer live with Colin as he was. Something had to give, and it did.
At her call, Fenlauch walked in and Sanria watched the light scowl form on Colin's face. The black makou was already driving him once more to anger -Colin blamed Fenlauch for her desire to heal Westbridge. And once more, tiringly so, she had to beg him to stop. Miraculously, Colin did quiet his anger.
Fenlauch hadn't been told anything about her plans for Westbridge, but he refrained from saying anything more. He told Colin that they might be able to help him, and at Sanria's urgings, Colin finally chose to go. It took only moments for Fenlauch to cast an unintelligible spell and vanish through the fabric of reality with Colin behind him.
Sanria sat for a long moment on the bed where Colin had just lain. She knew she might never see him again. Though she had tired completely of the smothering black makou, all the anger, the outbursts, the distrust of everyone, she still loved Colin. If he could come back to her, without the other piece that she had grown to loathe, there would be hope for them. Still, if he never came back, she would be alone. She looked to her lap and finally let herself cry.
Delivered Parchments
*A rolled parchment appears in the air before you and settles into your hand. It unseals itself and opens to the words within.*
Kineada and Vorcet,
There are a few issues I need to discuss with both of you and given our schedules, I feel a missive will be best for preliminaries. As you are both aware, Westbridge has been under Vectorian occupation for some time. Though TriPower had once geared up for an assault on the backward government, with Throm's demise and the seeming retreat of their armies, it has once again been left to the citizenry to fight for themselves. It is no surprise that the oppressed have grown accustomed to their treatment, too afraid to make a bid for their freedom, as Vector's punishments are brutal and swift.
I feel it is left to those of us who aid in keeping balance to restore Westbridge back to what it should be - an open hub for all, a diverse city where many races can freely travel, and many governments and clans as well.
It falls to us, then, to begin a crusade to squash the occupation, but I must have the agreement of both of you before we begin seeking out others who will readily aid us. This in itself will be difficult, as where I see numbers, other clans see affiliations and may not readily work side by side to garner support and free Westbridge. However, this is a secondary issue to the primary. Do we feel the obligation strongly enough to embroil our clan with the political mixings of Vector?
My vote, of course, is an unequivocal yes. It is important, people need help... I feel it is time to bring about balance for Westbridge once more.
Sanria
Kineada and Vorcet,
There are a few issues I need to discuss with both of you and given our schedules, I feel a missive will be best for preliminaries. As you are both aware, Westbridge has been under Vectorian occupation for some time. Though TriPower had once geared up for an assault on the backward government, with Throm's demise and the seeming retreat of their armies, it has once again been left to the citizenry to fight for themselves. It is no surprise that the oppressed have grown accustomed to their treatment, too afraid to make a bid for their freedom, as Vector's punishments are brutal and swift.
I feel it is left to those of us who aid in keeping balance to restore Westbridge back to what it should be - an open hub for all, a diverse city where many races can freely travel, and many governments and clans as well.
It falls to us, then, to begin a crusade to squash the occupation, but I must have the agreement of both of you before we begin seeking out others who will readily aid us. This in itself will be difficult, as where I see numbers, other clans see affiliations and may not readily work side by side to garner support and free Westbridge. However, this is a secondary issue to the primary. Do we feel the obligation strongly enough to embroil our clan with the political mixings of Vector?
My vote, of course, is an unequivocal yes. It is important, people need help... I feel it is time to bring about balance for Westbridge once more.
Sanria
Thunder Crash
Sanria tried to focus on the letter on her desk. She clenched the pen in her hand and pressed hard, her hair continually needing to be pushed back as she wrote. She had gone home and talked to Colin about what her plans were only to be met with a desperate plea for her to stay out of political affairs. "Send someone else! There has to be someone else!" Colin had growled. He was angry at the Keepers, as though they somehow had put her up to the plot. He was just angry. Sanria knew that the black makou in him was at fault, but it had gotten increasingly difficult to do the job she had signed up to do while Colin wanted her closer and closer to him. It was stifling. When she told Colin she had terminated her most recent... mistake... she watched him do everything short of tear down the cavern. Nioma now sat in Sanria's office, laying on her back, playing in quiet contentment with her magical toys. Safe from the rampage back home.
The truth was, Sanria hadn't done anything yet. She hadn't done anything but try to push Colin away, push him to the brink, make him want to leave her side. She'd acted on nothing. She shook her head. It was no one's business what was going on with her body. No one needed to know, not yet. There were reasons, she knew, for Colin's desperation. A singular one, more than the others, that lay cooing to herself on the floor. A child that he didn't make yet was raising. Sanria shook her head again and pulled in her focus.
"Kineada and Vorcet, There are a few issues I need to discuss with both of you and given our schedules, I feel a missive will be best for the preliminaries."
Sanria paused again. Her throat closed up, her eyes burned. The last thing she needed was anyone doubting her capacity to lead and make decisions. She clenched her teeth, forcing every emotion that roiled within her to the back of her mind.There was business to take care of now that would get her every attention.
The truth was, Sanria hadn't done anything yet. She hadn't done anything but try to push Colin away, push him to the brink, make him want to leave her side. She'd acted on nothing. She shook her head. It was no one's business what was going on with her body. No one needed to know, not yet. There were reasons, she knew, for Colin's desperation. A singular one, more than the others, that lay cooing to herself on the floor. A child that he didn't make yet was raising. Sanria shook her head again and pulled in her focus.
"Kineada and Vorcet, There are a few issues I need to discuss with both of you and given our schedules, I feel a missive will be best for the preliminaries."
Sanria paused again. Her throat closed up, her eyes burned. The last thing she needed was anyone doubting her capacity to lead and make decisions. She clenched her teeth, forcing every emotion that roiled within her to the back of her mind.There was business to take care of now that would get her every attention.
Rain
Rain clattered on the roofs of Emerald street, engulfed in the blackness of the night. It was autumn and lately the wind had turned cold and vicious. Winter would soon be on the doorstep of Westbridge. On Penny Lane a young boy, dressed in rags, was scavenging coins from the large white marble fountain that gushed forth. Further up, on Emerald street, a dog barked. The sound of gnarl-like chattering of the Vectorian speech became audible and the boy raised in alarm. But alas, Penny Lane was a dead end, and the light of the Enforcers had caught him in the act.
From the shadows, another ragged beggar watched as the Vectorian Enforcers had their fun with the boy and beat him up until his skull collided with the marble of the fountain's edge. Before the Enforcers left, the boy was kicked in the gut twice and then left to rot as the garbage they thought he was. The puddles around the boy were tainted red, as were the coins in his clutched fist. It was a Westbridge mentality these days. What I find is mine, and I keep what I find. For under Vectorian rule, life was harsh. Death for coins, coins for food.
After the Enforcers left, the other beggar rose up from the shadows and walked over to the boy. He evaded the puddles as he went, and kneeled next to the boy. The lad was still alive, but barely. With ease, he pried the fist open and took the coins from him. And then, surprisingly lifted the boy up in his arms, and retreated into the shadows with him as the rain washed away the blood.
From the shadows, another ragged beggar watched as the Vectorian Enforcers had their fun with the boy and beat him up until his skull collided with the marble of the fountain's edge. Before the Enforcers left, the boy was kicked in the gut twice and then left to rot as the garbage they thought he was. The puddles around the boy were tainted red, as were the coins in his clutched fist. It was a Westbridge mentality these days. What I find is mine, and I keep what I find. For under Vectorian rule, life was harsh. Death for coins, coins for food.
After the Enforcers left, the other beggar rose up from the shadows and walked over to the boy. He evaded the puddles as he went, and kneeled next to the boy. The lad was still alive, but barely. With ease, he pried the fist open and took the coins from him. And then, surprisingly lifted the boy up in his arms, and retreated into the shadows with him as the rain washed away the blood.
The Blueprint
As he ascended the stairway into the tree, memories flooded back to Ror. Inside Ror saw that the furniture had long ago decided to fall apart and decay, and nature had taken over. He used a stick to brush the many spider rags aside, and concluded that his home would need extensive work to make it habitable again. After some time, he worked his way into what was once a living room. Gliding with his hand over the carving in the wall, he smiled, triggered by the happy memories. Ror continued his inspection and eventually found the study, and surprisingly, there was an intact box of makou crystal sitting in the rubble of what once had been his desk. Of course, thought Ror, as he kneeled and touched the crystal. How could I have forgotten? A faint click was heard under Ror's touch and he grinned. "You were expensive, but worth the money. And if you are still here," whispered Ror, "are your contents as well?" He pushed open the lid and then smiled broadly. Unharmed by the passing of time was a scroll he had cared for quite a bit. He took it out, and unrolled it in his lap. The ink had not faded, the blueprint had survived.
Answers, and more Questions
"I thought I might find you here Garlech." Vorcet said as he strode up beside the tall golden Rilmani at the edge of the balcony overlooking the island.
"I spend much of my time observing, it is our purpose." responded Garlech as he turned toward Vorcet. "What can I do for you?"
"A series of nagging questions regarding what the Black Church did to silence the gods here." Vorcet began carefully. "As I am sure you know all forms of contact with the gods has been cut. No answered prayers, no manifestations. Rumors fly as to what this means. Are the gods dead? or are they simply unable to interact with the prime material plane?"
"I believe this is the most I have heard you speak since you took up residence here Vorcet." Garlech responded with a ghost of a smirk on his face.
"I've lived a long life by human standards, I have learned the value of a carefully guarded tongue when it becomes necessary." Vorcet responded with a slight shrug of his shoulders. "Still, when there is something that is uncertain, such as the fate of our gods.... Im unable to help myself."
The slight smile slipped from Garlechs face as it fell back to the practiced expression of neutrality that was his norm. A few moments passed before he responded. "We know not the fate of the gods. However, were I an experienced wielder of magic, I might bend my time toward learning extra-planar travel."
Vorcet pondered that for a moment as he looked out over the lands beyond the island. "Planeswalking magics have been lost to us for hundreds of years." Vorcet mused more to himself than anything. "There has been the rare exceptions, but their secrets have always died with them."
"Are you so sure of that Vorcet?" Garlech responded carefuly. "The Netherese were planeswalkers. How much of their knowledge has been preserved?"
Silence fell on the balcony as the wheels started turning in Vorcet's head. "I believe my work here is done, and I can say no more." Garlech said as he slipped through the doorway with his unnatural grace.
"I spend much of my time observing, it is our purpose." responded Garlech as he turned toward Vorcet. "What can I do for you?"
"A series of nagging questions regarding what the Black Church did to silence the gods here." Vorcet began carefully. "As I am sure you know all forms of contact with the gods has been cut. No answered prayers, no manifestations. Rumors fly as to what this means. Are the gods dead? or are they simply unable to interact with the prime material plane?"
"I believe this is the most I have heard you speak since you took up residence here Vorcet." Garlech responded with a ghost of a smirk on his face.
"I've lived a long life by human standards, I have learned the value of a carefully guarded tongue when it becomes necessary." Vorcet responded with a slight shrug of his shoulders. "Still, when there is something that is uncertain, such as the fate of our gods.... Im unable to help myself."
The slight smile slipped from Garlechs face as it fell back to the practiced expression of neutrality that was his norm. A few moments passed before he responded. "We know not the fate of the gods. However, were I an experienced wielder of magic, I might bend my time toward learning extra-planar travel."
Vorcet pondered that for a moment as he looked out over the lands beyond the island. "Planeswalking magics have been lost to us for hundreds of years." Vorcet mused more to himself than anything. "There has been the rare exceptions, but their secrets have always died with them."
"Are you so sure of that Vorcet?" Garlech responded carefuly. "The Netherese were planeswalkers. How much of their knowledge has been preserved?"
Silence fell on the balcony as the wheels started turning in Vorcet's head. "I believe my work here is done, and I can say no more." Garlech said as he slipped through the doorway with his unnatural grace.
Discussions
The clanning of Kronk and Orn was complete as Sanria sank behind her desk. She was happy to have her son among the ranks, happy to have Kronk finally given a home, but her concerns had nearly immediately turned to Ror again.
It had been some time since she'd spoken to the elf, a fact which didn't bother Sanria by any stretch. The less she had to speak to him, the better. It meant she wouldn't have to dredge up Throm again. But when they had spoken about Westbridge, her mind turned. She had been content to remain out of the fight, but lately her comfortability had begun to wane. Her answer was not sufficient. Knowing people were suffering still under the oppression of Vector, that she was content to sit back and do nothing, it sat heavily on her mind.
She breached the topic with Kineada, who was eager to hear the outcome of her conversation with Enmach - when she had it. But his question as to how they would manage such a feat strummed in Sanria's ears as she waited for her Argenach counsellor. In a flash of silver, Enmach appeared and bowed deeply. "You called, Lady Sanria?"
"Enmach, thank you so much for coming."
"Of course. What is it you wished to speak about with me?"
"Westbridge."
"The settlement to our east?"
"The same. It is overrun by Vector. TriPower had once deigned to clean up the city - had mounted forces to free the people of the tyranny there, but-"
"It has not come to pass. I am aware. And what would you determine to do?"
"I'm not certain, but... I do not believe it is a balancing force to have a government bent on oppression in power over such a diverse city."
"I would incline to agree, but are you speaking war?"
"No... not war. Just, an end to the tribulations."
Sanria watched as Enmach bowed her head, her fingers steepled at her lips. "This will require far more hands than what you have amassed, and this particular fight would be yours alone - the Rilmani could not step in to give aid."
"Why?"
"For the same reason we brought you here in the first place, Lady Sanria. Your Keepers are to help us maintain the mortal side. The... ah..."
"The fights too small for you to concern yourselves with," Sanria said pointedly, watching as Enmach merely bowed her head. "I see. But I don't even know where to begin."
"I suggest you call a meeting of your fellow leaders. Determine their mindset on the issue. Beyond that, you will need help, and lots of it. The potential for bringing disaster on yourselves is great."
"Nice to know you're honest. By the way... Sir Kineada sends his regards." Sanria chuckled inwardly as Enmach's face scrunched slightly.
"No. My answer still stands. I have no interest in his bedchambers."
"Suit yourself," Sanria shrugged. "Just know that he is quite tenacious."
Enmach scoffed and shook her head. In a flash she was gone, leaving Sanria to stare at her desk with a deep sigh. The time for doing nothing was gone, a comfort she could no longer afford. She would gather Kineada and Vorcet and determine their next course of action. It could no longer wait.
It had been some time since she'd spoken to the elf, a fact which didn't bother Sanria by any stretch. The less she had to speak to him, the better. It meant she wouldn't have to dredge up Throm again. But when they had spoken about Westbridge, her mind turned. She had been content to remain out of the fight, but lately her comfortability had begun to wane. Her answer was not sufficient. Knowing people were suffering still under the oppression of Vector, that she was content to sit back and do nothing, it sat heavily on her mind.
She breached the topic with Kineada, who was eager to hear the outcome of her conversation with Enmach - when she had it. But his question as to how they would manage such a feat strummed in Sanria's ears as she waited for her Argenach counsellor. In a flash of silver, Enmach appeared and bowed deeply. "You called, Lady Sanria?"
"Enmach, thank you so much for coming."
"Of course. What is it you wished to speak about with me?"
"Westbridge."
"The settlement to our east?"
"The same. It is overrun by Vector. TriPower had once deigned to clean up the city - had mounted forces to free the people of the tyranny there, but-"
"It has not come to pass. I am aware. And what would you determine to do?"
"I'm not certain, but... I do not believe it is a balancing force to have a government bent on oppression in power over such a diverse city."
"I would incline to agree, but are you speaking war?"
"No... not war. Just, an end to the tribulations."
Sanria watched as Enmach bowed her head, her fingers steepled at her lips. "This will require far more hands than what you have amassed, and this particular fight would be yours alone - the Rilmani could not step in to give aid."
"Why?"
"For the same reason we brought you here in the first place, Lady Sanria. Your Keepers are to help us maintain the mortal side. The... ah..."
"The fights too small for you to concern yourselves with," Sanria said pointedly, watching as Enmach merely bowed her head. "I see. But I don't even know where to begin."
"I suggest you call a meeting of your fellow leaders. Determine their mindset on the issue. Beyond that, you will need help, and lots of it. The potential for bringing disaster on yourselves is great."
"Nice to know you're honest. By the way... Sir Kineada sends his regards." Sanria chuckled inwardly as Enmach's face scrunched slightly.
"No. My answer still stands. I have no interest in his bedchambers."
"Suit yourself," Sanria shrugged. "Just know that he is quite tenacious."
Enmach scoffed and shook her head. In a flash she was gone, leaving Sanria to stare at her desk with a deep sigh. The time for doing nothing was gone, a comfort she could no longer afford. She would gather Kineada and Vorcet and determine their next course of action. It could no longer wait.
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