Throm uth Bannon
Showing posts with label Throm. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Throm. Show all posts
Current Character Description - Throm uth Bannon
Tall and slightly gaunt in stature, this man's eyes of crystal green survey the world around him with an everpresent disposition of curiosity and inquiry. The neatly kept hair of jet black upon his head, is contrasted by thin streaks of a light gray disrupt. Smile lines adorn the beginnings of many wrinkles upon his face, though a heavy brow tells tales of dark times survived. A slight limp is noticeable within his step, though it does not seem to hinder his movement more than what is seen cosmetically.
'I have walked the line between what the greater society would call the rights' and wrongs for as long as I can remember. In doing so I have served Cruoris in the best way I know how. What is good? What is evil? This we cannot as mortal individuals answer. We learn... we move forward, and forward is where my vision lies.
Legacy V
Further up a terraced hill was a Victorian styled mansion, and under the cover of the night a figure walked over the black stone pavement to the entrance. On the way he passed a fountain, shaped like a dragon, but it had stopped gurgling water a while ago. Reaching the door, he simply stepped through. Pass door has its uses, thought Ror as he looked up from under his hood to the glorious, marble entry hall. Very fancy, he thought and he stepped on the soft rug, muffling his footsteps. Passing an extinct fireplace, he practically glided through the hallways of the mansion, unseen and quiet, until he found a door with on it "Authorized Personell Only". Ror stopped, sensing the air around him, then decided to go up the spiral staircase instead. He wandered around the mansion, inspecting rooms one by one. Eventually, he went up into a tower that had an interesting number of chambers, each one more magically impressive than the other. And at last, at the top of the tower, Ror found what he had been looking for: a devastated workroom; Throm's devastated workroom.
Having read Throm's notes for days, the research logs, and every scrap of information he could find in the Tripower Archive, he had a pretty good idea of what happened here. He kneeled and picked up a crystal from the floor with his black leather gloved hand. He pocketed it safely away, before sampling some of the mist with an empty test tube. Ror had made it a habit to carry a few empty ones with him.
He stood up, then magically disappeared, returning to the Tripower.
Having read Throm's notes for days, the research logs, and every scrap of information he could find in the Tripower Archive, he had a pretty good idea of what happened here. He kneeled and picked up a crystal from the floor with his black leather gloved hand. He pocketed it safely away, before sampling some of the mist with an empty test tube. Ror had made it a habit to carry a few empty ones with him.
He stood up, then magically disappeared, returning to the Tripower.
Legacy IV
The feather swiftly ran over the paper as Ror wrote his report. Dipping it into ink every now and then, he kept a steady pace with little to no staining. A blue-white crystal was lying on a pile of paper in front of him. He was using it as a paperweight... And drawing its shape onto the paper as part of the report. After half a hour of writing, he laid down the feather and let the last of the ink dry. His hand moved over to the crystal and touched it. 'How fares the test?' asked Ror by thought, and the voice of one of his assistants told him in his head that it went well. He nodded to himself and let go of the crystal. And turned the page, blowing a bit against the paper to dry the last of the ink. He then picked up the feather again and resumed his writing, outlining the test-phase. By the time he had reached the bottom of the paper, another half hour had passed. He placed the feather back in the ink well and waited a bit before filing the report. He tucked it under his arm and pocketed the crystal before walking out of his office. Down the hallway, he opened the door to Zeltor's office and placed the report on his desk, before walking back to the hangar.
In the hangar his assistants were testing the properties and spellstrength of the other crystal. As Ror approached, he took the crystal from his pocket and then placed it in the slot across the other. 'Still everything faring well?' A curt nod answered his question and Ror smiled. He opened his uniform and removed a folded paper sheet from a pocket, handing it over to the nearest assistant. 'Infuse this spell in the both of them,' he said, 'I will be at the archive. If anything is amiss, let me know.' He then turned and walked away. The assistant that had received the paper unfolded it and read the spell, his eyes enlarging, 'Damn!' This caught the attention of the other, who looked up from his work and turned his head to see, 'A protective spell? Oh, nasty!' The first sighed, 'Safety for everything I guess. Alright, let's get to work.'
With a click the magical lock of the door to the archive unlocked and a second later Ror swooped into the room otherwise occupied by dust and cabinets, closing the door behind him. He snapped his fingers and placed an instantly created ball of light on a cabinet top, before turning his attention to the cabinets themselves. He opened a cabinet drawer and scanned the labels. Closing the drawer again, he opened another drawer and scanned labels once again. He frowned, then picked a file from the cabinet. It said, "RESTRICTION LEVEL 1" on the cover. Ror opened it and leaned against one of the cabinets as his eyes scanned the contents.
'My, my, Throm, I guess rumours were right after all,' said Ror to himself and he smirked broadly,
'You DID experiment with black makou...'
In the hangar his assistants were testing the properties and spellstrength of the other crystal. As Ror approached, he took the crystal from his pocket and then placed it in the slot across the other. 'Still everything faring well?' A curt nod answered his question and Ror smiled. He opened his uniform and removed a folded paper sheet from a pocket, handing it over to the nearest assistant. 'Infuse this spell in the both of them,' he said, 'I will be at the archive. If anything is amiss, let me know.' He then turned and walked away. The assistant that had received the paper unfolded it and read the spell, his eyes enlarging, 'Damn!' This caught the attention of the other, who looked up from his work and turned his head to see, 'A protective spell? Oh, nasty!' The first sighed, 'Safety for everything I guess. Alright, let's get to work.'
With a click the magical lock of the door to the archive unlocked and a second later Ror swooped into the room otherwise occupied by dust and cabinets, closing the door behind him. He snapped his fingers and placed an instantly created ball of light on a cabinet top, before turning his attention to the cabinets themselves. He opened a cabinet drawer and scanned the labels. Closing the drawer again, he opened another drawer and scanned labels once again. He frowned, then picked a file from the cabinet. It said, "RESTRICTION LEVEL 1" on the cover. Ror opened it and leaned against one of the cabinets as his eyes scanned the contents.
'My, my, Throm, I guess rumours were right after all,' said Ror to himself and he smirked broadly,
'You DID experiment with black makou...'
Legacy I
It was past midnight, and a couple of hours away from dawn. In the laboratory of the Tripower, Ror was working. His assistants had gone to bed hours ago, but he was still busy. On the table were a various assortment of crystals. They were selected on colour and quality. Some were left in their natural state, others had been fractured and polished by a dwarf master craftsman from Torregiano. Wearing soft gloves and an eyepatch with a magnifying glass in it, Ror handled the crystals with great delicacy. On the table were two books. One spellbook, the other a copy of an old scientific journal. Its yellowing pages were a bit damaged, but otherwise in a good state. And more importantly, it was readable. Ror had retrieved the journal from the research archive, previously placed under Throm's authority. Now that Ror was a leader of the Tripower, the secrets of the research archive previously kept at bay, were now his to read and build upon. Throm was gone, but Ror felt like a fish in the water. He turned a page carefully and read the notes. In the back of his mind, he felt the presence of Aneh, dreaming something about bunnies and weddings. He smiled, turning his concentration back to the work at hand.
"I called the first half of the telepathy spell. Using a small, round sapphire, I placed it on a holder," read Ror. Next to it was scribbled in the sideline: Caution: use large gloves and goggles against harsh waves. He mulled and continued reading, "Next I used a glowing green crystal, which emanates harsh waves that are dangerous to the eyes. The following words I incantated as I forcefully wove the two crystals together."
Ror turned another page and before long he went to work...
"I called the first half of the telepathy spell. Using a small, round sapphire, I placed it on a holder," read Ror. Next to it was scribbled in the sideline: Caution: use large gloves and goggles against harsh waves. He mulled and continued reading, "Next I used a glowing green crystal, which emanates harsh waves that are dangerous to the eyes. The following words I incantated as I forcefully wove the two crystals together."
Ror turned another page and before long he went to work...
Is There Life on Mars
Sanria watched Colin sleep, his breath moving rhythmically in and out, his large chest rising and falling with the respirative effort, his body working of its own accord. She lay there, Orn's words echoing in her mind like a multi-bullet ricochet, "Where have you been? This invasion happened, and you were nowhere around." He was in pain, her son. His bear had died on the field and she was blamed. If she would have been there, she might have saved Reggie. "Where have you been?"
She hadn't planned on active battle. She had her children to think about and the rest of her clan. She had said from the start she wouldn't be involved, but it didn't matter to Orn. The truth was, the truth she couldn't bring herself to admit out loud, was that she had been in the arms of a very familiar new man. She was isolated from Westbridge, deep in the Druid's Grove, away from the carnage and slaughter and death. She was busy feeling the most unguilty sense of peace she'd felt in years while her son was battling a demented mad man and his furry companion was breathing his last. She was feeling a happiness she hadn't experienced in years while her fellow leaders were swinging swords in the name of justice. When she'd come back up for air, all there was to breathe in was the crushing atmosphere of guilt. "Where have you been?"
Orn had apologized to her when he saw the anguish that filled her features, but facing the uproar of emotion that poured from her son broke something deep inside Sanria. She knew his pain, she'd been intimate with it the first time Thasmudyan had died, and when she'd lost Throm. She knew it could make people say things they wouldn't otherwise- a wound exposed: unapologetic and raw. Orn's truth stung like a shower of salt, and Sanria saw what her son wanted far clearer than she had ever before. A mother who was stable, a mother who was with his father - a stable family, home, and clan. "Where have you been?"
She couldn't share with him the joy she'd experienced with Gilean. She could not share just how happy she'd been spending time with Gilean. Instead she would have to do what would help her son. She would fix the pain on Orn's face- anything to make that hurt, heartache, anger, anguish, and rage vanish. She would tell Thasmudyan there would not be a reconciliation. She would swallow the feelings she experienced with Gilean and banish them to the farthest reaches of her soul. She would sit then with a man who didn't remember her or their life together at all. A man who had hallucinations, who needed her to even stay asleep at night. A man with whom there may never be a full recovery. "Where have you been?"
Colin woke only slightly and gave a sleepy smile. "You're like a dream," he said, "appearing to me in the night. Will you be here tomorrow?" Sanria, her heart heavy, nodded her head 'yes.'
She hadn't planned on active battle. She had her children to think about and the rest of her clan. She had said from the start she wouldn't be involved, but it didn't matter to Orn. The truth was, the truth she couldn't bring herself to admit out loud, was that she had been in the arms of a very familiar new man. She was isolated from Westbridge, deep in the Druid's Grove, away from the carnage and slaughter and death. She was busy feeling the most unguilty sense of peace she'd felt in years while her son was battling a demented mad man and his furry companion was breathing his last. She was feeling a happiness she hadn't experienced in years while her fellow leaders were swinging swords in the name of justice. When she'd come back up for air, all there was to breathe in was the crushing atmosphere of guilt. "Where have you been?"
Orn had apologized to her when he saw the anguish that filled her features, but facing the uproar of emotion that poured from her son broke something deep inside Sanria. She knew his pain, she'd been intimate with it the first time Thasmudyan had died, and when she'd lost Throm. She knew it could make people say things they wouldn't otherwise- a wound exposed: unapologetic and raw. Orn's truth stung like a shower of salt, and Sanria saw what her son wanted far clearer than she had ever before. A mother who was stable, a mother who was with his father - a stable family, home, and clan. "Where have you been?"
She couldn't share with him the joy she'd experienced with Gilean. She could not share just how happy she'd been spending time with Gilean. Instead she would have to do what would help her son. She would fix the pain on Orn's face- anything to make that hurt, heartache, anger, anguish, and rage vanish. She would tell Thasmudyan there would not be a reconciliation. She would swallow the feelings she experienced with Gilean and banish them to the farthest reaches of her soul. She would sit then with a man who didn't remember her or their life together at all. A man who had hallucinations, who needed her to even stay asleep at night. A man with whom there may never be a full recovery. "Where have you been?"
Colin woke only slightly and gave a sleepy smile. "You're like a dream," he said, "appearing to me in the night. Will you be here tomorrow?" Sanria, her heart heavy, nodded her head 'yes.'
Log: 25012013 - Ror and Alsin
OOC commentary: while newbie helping, Ror bumped into Alsin and roleplay sort of happened. For those with an interest in old factions, Alsin shares some history on the Emirc Dezinagro Syndicate.
Log: 14012013 - Ror and Sanria
OOC commentary: Ror and Sanria again. One thing lead to another and she decides to live (rent a room officially) with Ror for a short period of time now that she has made up her mind about her marriage with Colin. Whatever feelings might have reared their head during this episode, will quickly meet their end in the near future at the hands of drama. Of course at this point he doesn't realize yet what lurks just over the horizon. All in all an amusing session!
Disjointed Reality
It was dread that suddenly washed over Sanria when the glowing eyes settled in the chair across the desk. Fenlauch rarely came for simple chats. His conversations with Sanria were reserved for matters of gravity. And somehow, Sanria knew, this was serious. "Is he okay," she whispered.
"Yes. The proceedure was a success."
"Ah!" Sanria smiled, relieved. "Where is he?"
"That, is why I've come to speak with you."
"I... okay." Sanria settled herself, quelling the fire of excitement that had ignited moments before. "What's happened?"
"We've brought him back and he is staying in Westbridge until his mind is able to heal."
"But, you said it worked..."
"It did, but there were, casualties in his memories."
"Casualties..."
"Think of it like this," Fenlauch said, letting out an exhale. "His mind is full of certain holes, holes that will not fill in, but are currently as soft as a sponge. If he attempts to fill them in now, he could face a collapse. His mind has to... set... if you will."
"Holes..."
"Sanria, when your friend, Throm, placed Colin into the vat of Black Makou, Colin was in stasis, his thoughts on you and his children."
"Yes..."
"His memories of you merged with that substance. That was why you alone could calm him. So when we removed the ichor from him..."
"He forgot me."
Sanria leaned back in her chair. She didn't remember to breathe until her lungs began to burn. Only then did she look up at Fenlauch. "I'm sorry," he said quietly.
"Will he recover, I mean, I know you said holes but..." Fenlauch shook his head slowly. "You must let him mend and perhaps then you can get to know him over again, but no. Your past with him is gone in his mind. You are the holes."
"What... what about his children? Orn... Leandra..."
"He may have vague recollections of them... but not..."
There was nothing she could say. Sanria leaned back in her chair, unable to even see for all the tears clouding her vision. 'At least he's alive, at least he's alive, at least...' but Sanria found herself going numb. She sat up and smoothed her robes. "I'll have to speak to Orn."
"Sanria, perhaps you should take a little time to-"
"And I'll tell Leandra, then I'll get to work on helping Radiant Heart with Westbridge."
"Sanria..."
"Thank you, Fenlauch. Thank you for helping him."
Sanria watched as the huge man rose and bowed slowly. "I believe you should take time to let yourself understand and heal. I will not force you out of here, but be aware that your clan needs you to be strong and coherent."
"I am aware," she whispered.
"If you have any questions, please come to me."
"Thank you."
Without the huge presence in the room, Sanria felt her body crush. She leaned forward, taking in a breath to let out a deep sob, when a bouquet of flowers appeared on her desk with a card written in druid script: "Thanks for earlier. If you're busy and stressed, smell the flowers. Enjoy while they last!"
"Yes. The proceedure was a success."
"Ah!" Sanria smiled, relieved. "Where is he?"
"That, is why I've come to speak with you."
"I... okay." Sanria settled herself, quelling the fire of excitement that had ignited moments before. "What's happened?"
"We've brought him back and he is staying in Westbridge until his mind is able to heal."
"But, you said it worked..."
"It did, but there were, casualties in his memories."
"Casualties..."
"Think of it like this," Fenlauch said, letting out an exhale. "His mind is full of certain holes, holes that will not fill in, but are currently as soft as a sponge. If he attempts to fill them in now, he could face a collapse. His mind has to... set... if you will."
"Holes..."
"Sanria, when your friend, Throm, placed Colin into the vat of Black Makou, Colin was in stasis, his thoughts on you and his children."
"Yes..."
"His memories of you merged with that substance. That was why you alone could calm him. So when we removed the ichor from him..."
"He forgot me."
Sanria leaned back in her chair. She didn't remember to breathe until her lungs began to burn. Only then did she look up at Fenlauch. "I'm sorry," he said quietly.
"Will he recover, I mean, I know you said holes but..." Fenlauch shook his head slowly. "You must let him mend and perhaps then you can get to know him over again, but no. Your past with him is gone in his mind. You are the holes."
"What... what about his children? Orn... Leandra..."
"He may have vague recollections of them... but not..."
There was nothing she could say. Sanria leaned back in her chair, unable to even see for all the tears clouding her vision. 'At least he's alive, at least he's alive, at least...' but Sanria found herself going numb. She sat up and smoothed her robes. "I'll have to speak to Orn."
"Sanria, perhaps you should take a little time to-"
"And I'll tell Leandra, then I'll get to work on helping Radiant Heart with Westbridge."
"Sanria..."
"Thank you, Fenlauch. Thank you for helping him."
Sanria watched as the huge man rose and bowed slowly. "I believe you should take time to let yourself understand and heal. I will not force you out of here, but be aware that your clan needs you to be strong and coherent."
"I am aware," she whispered.
"If you have any questions, please come to me."
"Thank you."
Without the huge presence in the room, Sanria felt her body crush. She leaned forward, taking in a breath to let out a deep sob, when a bouquet of flowers appeared on her desk with a card written in druid script: "Thanks for earlier. If you're busy and stressed, smell the flowers. Enjoy while they last!"
Cards, Picnics, and Skeletons (1-3)
The days had been consuming Sanria, bleeding from one into the other with no end in sight. Since she had "welcomed" Thasmudyan into her home, she chose to stay clear of it and keep Nioma with her at the castle. She knew Leandra wouldn't cause much trouble and so she buried her nose in books, trying not to think about Colin being gone, Orn wanting to fight, or the ex-lover she was harboring from an entire government. Still, regardless of how hard she tried, the real world was there with her, peering over her shoulder as she read, whispering in her ears that things were closing in over her and suggesting that she would soon drown in it.
Enmach entered, cooing to Nioma, who was growing steadily. Sanria felt a pang of jealousy. When Enmach held the little girl, her bright blue eyes were rapt with attention. "I wanted to have her see you today," Enmach said, her eyes still on Nioma. "You've been busy quite a lot, lately."
"I know. Unfortunately it can't be helped." Sanria ran a hand through her hair. "There's so much to do and-"
"There is so much waiting to do, you mean." Sanria let her hand drop to her thigh and gave a singular nod. "Correct."
"Perhaps you should go home, Sanria. Relax."
"I can't... go home."
"Ah, Sir Thasmudyan."
"Right."
"And you can't think of anything else to do than try not to worry while you worry?" Enmach said with a knowing smile.
"That's not really fair, you know."
Sanria reached out to take Nioma when a swirl of golden dust appeared on her hand. It sparkled, then briefly lit, and when it faded, a card was between her fingers. On the front was the TriPower insignia, on the back, a summons, 'You are cordially invited At Midnight.' "What in the nine..."
"It appears to be a summons," Enmach smirked.
"But, from whom? Who in TriPower could be sending me anything like this? Do you think they could know about him?"
"About..."
"Thasmudyan, what if they know I'm keeping him and this whole Westbridge thing could be-"
"It's in druidic script." Sanria looked at at Enmach as the woman gave a small smile. "You should go," she said.
"What do you know of this?"
"Nothing, I assure you. But who do you know in TriPower that uses such a language?" Sanria stared at Enmach as the woman stared back, waiting. It finally hit her. "Ror..." she whispered.
"I'll watch over Nioma and ensure she gets to bed on time-"
"But-"
"And you should seek out this elf and meet him."
"Enmach, I can't go, I have-"
"Nothing to do but wait. So please, for the health of yourself and my own sanity... go."
It was much later that Sanria walked through the Haon'Dor, her hands on the trunks of trees. The ancient beings guided her with quiet whispers, telling her which paths to take to reach Ror. She could hear the humor in their voices as they guided her to the darkest, most remote, most ancient place in the forest to reveal a very tanned elven man lit by unknown light with a picnic basket at his side.
No. The immediate voice in the back of Sanria's skull stepped up with authority, throttling the absolutely shocked and guiltily smitten part, sending it into a quiet submission. The immediate voice then reminded her, in no uncertain terms, that this was a business trip, and that there was something Ror wanted: Throm's information. Calm descended over her as she moved into the tiny space between the trees. "Sir Ror."
"Ah, milady, how good to see you again!"
"I received your card..."
"Indeed! I assume you had no trouble to find the way?"
"No. The trees speak."
"I knew you'd understand."
Sanria's mind was reeling. Why would he bring her out at midnight, in a secluded part of the wood to ask her about Throm, knowing she wouldn't tell him anything? What was his angle? "I'm certain you didn't ask me
here for a picnic, did you?"
"Well, a picnic all by yourself without friends is... very lonely you know... And I figured you might want to get out of everything as well, and just sit, chat, do nothing. And eat of course."
"I... I've been very busy lately," she replied, quite unconvincingly.
"Apple?"
Slowly, Sanria defrosted by degrees. The sound of the river was not far off, and in the moonlight, could be seen reflecting between the trunks of the ancient trees. She brought up the things troubling her, letting the nature that surrounded her lift her burdens as it always did. She found herself inquiring after his studies, recalling his involvement with the Research Division. "So... how is TriPower..." she asked carefully.
"Still there," Ror replied with a grin.
"So... there's nothing going on... that you're aware of that might not be so... good? Like... lifestream research on living subjects?"
"Go on, I am interested."
"So am I," she said in a whisper. "I've merely heard rumors, is all."
She suddenly found him sitting at her side, whispering back, "You whisper too much. Which rumors?"
'People didn't do this,' she thought. 'No one invites someone out on a roman- a picnic at midnight and discusses business, do they?' She cleared her throat and forced herself to stare out into the darkness. "Simply rumors that there are people in your governmental organization that do research on others for their personal gain. Those with the capability to control the lifestream."
"And...then you thought of me?"
"Given your line of work, yes." Sanria turned to face him, steeling herself against the face staring back at her. "Not implying anything, of course. Just that you might know if the rumors are true."
"I feel kind of... flattered," Ror said, smiling. "Thank you."
Of course he wouldn't know anything. He wasn't at the higher levels of TriPower... he studied books in libraries. She felt foolish. "I'm sorry. I believe I may have implied you knew more than you do."
"I told you before that there are things I know nothing about. And you might also recall I wanted to dig and research into a certain someone and his research."
And there it was. Sanria felt herself relax. She had been wrong about this picnic, and Enmach, too. She felt herself strengthen, she knew the reason would eventually come out, and it did. The basket of food - enough for two - was a ruse. It was time to get down business.
Sanria stood up and walked toward the trees. The moonlight sparkled on the river beyond, adding light to the darkness. "I simply can't do that. I'm sorry." She felt his hands on her shoulders and immediately stiffened.
"It's ok," he said.
"I am sorry. Truly." She turned to look up at him. "I know how frustrating it can be to see something you want right before you and not be able to get it. And I have the knowledge, at least part of it, you seek."
"It is ok. I did not invite you to discuss that, nor did I push for further information. But you must understand that if I am kept in the dark about such difficult things, I can not give answers in the future either."
"Throm is the past, my past. I'd prefer to keep him there."
"Well, Throm is also the Tripower's past, which makes it my past and present and future. And unfinished things from the past always come back sooner or later, whether you like it or not. I suspect - with so many problems in love and life - I do not..."
"You will simply have to discover your information some other way. I'm sorry."
Sanria walked to her pack and prepared to leave. She knew he couldn't be a friend to her when all he wanted was to know Throm's information. She knew where the lab was, knew what Throm had there, but still did not know everything, she was sure of it. One thing Throm had always left behind in a trail were secrets. She knew that each time she met with Ror, the need to know would be the reason, and each time would end in the same manner. She proposed they keep apart, a suggestion that was rejected by the elven man. "But clearly I called you here to have a picnic," Ror said.
"Alright. Then shall we finish our picnic?"
"I am contemplating whether that is the right thing to do. The question that I ask myself, if I am a friend to you, do I smile and play the game, avoiding that which is pretty much impossible to avoid... Or do I hurt you, so you may heal in time? Hurt now, or hurt later, that is the question..."
"If we can spare one another pain, then it would be best to be out with it."
"Fine, so be it. Who recruited Ror into the TriPower?" Ror asked, waiting quietly.
Sanria's mind screamed. Lies. From the moment she met him, lies. Ror had been hiding the facts. For what? Snippets of conversations flew into her mind, conversations held in private from long ago. Even Throm's own people did not trust him completely, and here was proof. Right before her face.
"Why would you pretend not to know of him?"
"I have my orders."
"I suppose you do. I thank you for being up front with me now."
"I disobeyed part of my orders, if Throm ever finds out..."
"Throm is dead," Sanria hissed. "Unless he wanted to get away from me so terribly that he faked the whole thing and had me take my own life in the process."
"You do not seem dead to me. So why would I lie?"
"They brought me back to life." Why was she telling him this? She heard him whisper from behind her, and she turned to face him. "If he is alive, you can take your orders right to him and ask him for his research yourself. I'll not set foot near his home, near his research, near his family-" Sanria fought to keep her emotions in check, but fresh betrayal, old wounds, and heartache allowed the tears to seep into her eyes. It was then she felt Ror's arms around her, shocking her out of her pain, sending her mind spinning again. This was not right. Not at all. She pulled back enough to look up at the elven face. "Please don't ask me."
"Lifestream research," Ror began, "done by people I am not aware of inside the Tripower. I need to learn about Throm. Because I need to know who can be trusted. If you want to stay out of it, give me a key and directions and I figure everything out for myself and I swear I will never ask or tell again."
"Then stop looking for Throm. Thasmudyan... was the subject."
Shame washed over Sanria as she walked away from Ror. How easily she had given up Thasmudyan. And why? To take the heat off of her own self? To get Thasmudyan out of her cavern? To help... She felt Ror's arm around her. He was still asking questions, though now about Thasmudyan, about his place in TriPower so many years ago. It incensed her. Ror was from the very same government that had passed through its doors not only the elf, but Thasmudyan and Throm. And Ror could not have known it, the way he answered the questions, the quirks of his mannerisms, the way he would pointedly let her bluster out her anger and as cool as you please continue his thoughts... he was so much like the man whose research he was chasing, like the man who had fallen into an abyss where Sanria could not follow. She had to get away and stay away. "Picnic next thursday?" Ror asked, after everything she had shouted at him. And the words were out before she knew they were coming: "Send me a card."
Enmach entered, cooing to Nioma, who was growing steadily. Sanria felt a pang of jealousy. When Enmach held the little girl, her bright blue eyes were rapt with attention. "I wanted to have her see you today," Enmach said, her eyes still on Nioma. "You've been busy quite a lot, lately."
"I know. Unfortunately it can't be helped." Sanria ran a hand through her hair. "There's so much to do and-"
"There is so much waiting to do, you mean." Sanria let her hand drop to her thigh and gave a singular nod. "Correct."
"Perhaps you should go home, Sanria. Relax."
"I can't... go home."
"Ah, Sir Thasmudyan."
"Right."
"And you can't think of anything else to do than try not to worry while you worry?" Enmach said with a knowing smile.
"That's not really fair, you know."
Sanria reached out to take Nioma when a swirl of golden dust appeared on her hand. It sparkled, then briefly lit, and when it faded, a card was between her fingers. On the front was the TriPower insignia, on the back, a summons, 'You are cordially invited At Midnight.' "What in the nine..."
"It appears to be a summons," Enmach smirked.
"But, from whom? Who in TriPower could be sending me anything like this? Do you think they could know about him?"
"About..."
"Thasmudyan, what if they know I'm keeping him and this whole Westbridge thing could be-"
"It's in druidic script." Sanria looked at at Enmach as the woman gave a small smile. "You should go," she said.
"What do you know of this?"
"Nothing, I assure you. But who do you know in TriPower that uses such a language?" Sanria stared at Enmach as the woman stared back, waiting. It finally hit her. "Ror..." she whispered.
"I'll watch over Nioma and ensure she gets to bed on time-"
"But-"
"And you should seek out this elf and meet him."
"Enmach, I can't go, I have-"
"Nothing to do but wait. So please, for the health of yourself and my own sanity... go."
It was much later that Sanria walked through the Haon'Dor, her hands on the trunks of trees. The ancient beings guided her with quiet whispers, telling her which paths to take to reach Ror. She could hear the humor in their voices as they guided her to the darkest, most remote, most ancient place in the forest to reveal a very tanned elven man lit by unknown light with a picnic basket at his side.
No. The immediate voice in the back of Sanria's skull stepped up with authority, throttling the absolutely shocked and guiltily smitten part, sending it into a quiet submission. The immediate voice then reminded her, in no uncertain terms, that this was a business trip, and that there was something Ror wanted: Throm's information. Calm descended over her as she moved into the tiny space between the trees. "Sir Ror."
"Ah, milady, how good to see you again!"
"I received your card..."
"Indeed! I assume you had no trouble to find the way?"
"No. The trees speak."
"I knew you'd understand."
Sanria's mind was reeling. Why would he bring her out at midnight, in a secluded part of the wood to ask her about Throm, knowing she wouldn't tell him anything? What was his angle? "I'm certain you didn't ask me
here for a picnic, did you?"
"Well, a picnic all by yourself without friends is... very lonely you know... And I figured you might want to get out of everything as well, and just sit, chat, do nothing. And eat of course."
"I... I've been very busy lately," she replied, quite unconvincingly.
"Apple?"
Slowly, Sanria defrosted by degrees. The sound of the river was not far off, and in the moonlight, could be seen reflecting between the trunks of the ancient trees. She brought up the things troubling her, letting the nature that surrounded her lift her burdens as it always did. She found herself inquiring after his studies, recalling his involvement with the Research Division. "So... how is TriPower..." she asked carefully.
"Still there," Ror replied with a grin.
"So... there's nothing going on... that you're aware of that might not be so... good? Like... lifestream research on living subjects?"
"Go on, I am interested."
"So am I," she said in a whisper. "I've merely heard rumors, is all."
She suddenly found him sitting at her side, whispering back, "You whisper too much. Which rumors?"
'People didn't do this,' she thought. 'No one invites someone out on a roman- a picnic at midnight and discusses business, do they?' She cleared her throat and forced herself to stare out into the darkness. "Simply rumors that there are people in your governmental organization that do research on others for their personal gain. Those with the capability to control the lifestream."
"And...then you thought of me?"
"Given your line of work, yes." Sanria turned to face him, steeling herself against the face staring back at her. "Not implying anything, of course. Just that you might know if the rumors are true."
"I feel kind of... flattered," Ror said, smiling. "Thank you."
Of course he wouldn't know anything. He wasn't at the higher levels of TriPower... he studied books in libraries. She felt foolish. "I'm sorry. I believe I may have implied you knew more than you do."
"I told you before that there are things I know nothing about. And you might also recall I wanted to dig and research into a certain someone and his research."
And there it was. Sanria felt herself relax. She had been wrong about this picnic, and Enmach, too. She felt herself strengthen, she knew the reason would eventually come out, and it did. The basket of food - enough for two - was a ruse. It was time to get down business.
Sanria stood up and walked toward the trees. The moonlight sparkled on the river beyond, adding light to the darkness. "I simply can't do that. I'm sorry." She felt his hands on her shoulders and immediately stiffened.
"It's ok," he said.
"I am sorry. Truly." She turned to look up at him. "I know how frustrating it can be to see something you want right before you and not be able to get it. And I have the knowledge, at least part of it, you seek."
"It is ok. I did not invite you to discuss that, nor did I push for further information. But you must understand that if I am kept in the dark about such difficult things, I can not give answers in the future either."
"Throm is the past, my past. I'd prefer to keep him there."
"Well, Throm is also the Tripower's past, which makes it my past and present and future. And unfinished things from the past always come back sooner or later, whether you like it or not. I suspect - with so many problems in love and life - I do not..."
"You will simply have to discover your information some other way. I'm sorry."
Sanria walked to her pack and prepared to leave. She knew he couldn't be a friend to her when all he wanted was to know Throm's information. She knew where the lab was, knew what Throm had there, but still did not know everything, she was sure of it. One thing Throm had always left behind in a trail were secrets. She knew that each time she met with Ror, the need to know would be the reason, and each time would end in the same manner. She proposed they keep apart, a suggestion that was rejected by the elven man. "But clearly I called you here to have a picnic," Ror said.
"Alright. Then shall we finish our picnic?"
"I am contemplating whether that is the right thing to do. The question that I ask myself, if I am a friend to you, do I smile and play the game, avoiding that which is pretty much impossible to avoid... Or do I hurt you, so you may heal in time? Hurt now, or hurt later, that is the question..."
"If we can spare one another pain, then it would be best to be out with it."
"Fine, so be it. Who recruited Ror into the TriPower?" Ror asked, waiting quietly.
Sanria's mind screamed. Lies. From the moment she met him, lies. Ror had been hiding the facts. For what? Snippets of conversations flew into her mind, conversations held in private from long ago. Even Throm's own people did not trust him completely, and here was proof. Right before her face.
"Why would you pretend not to know of him?"
"I have my orders."
"I suppose you do. I thank you for being up front with me now."
"I disobeyed part of my orders, if Throm ever finds out..."
"Throm is dead," Sanria hissed. "Unless he wanted to get away from me so terribly that he faked the whole thing and had me take my own life in the process."
"You do not seem dead to me. So why would I lie?"
"They brought me back to life." Why was she telling him this? She heard him whisper from behind her, and she turned to face him. "If he is alive, you can take your orders right to him and ask him for his research yourself. I'll not set foot near his home, near his research, near his family-" Sanria fought to keep her emotions in check, but fresh betrayal, old wounds, and heartache allowed the tears to seep into her eyes. It was then she felt Ror's arms around her, shocking her out of her pain, sending her mind spinning again. This was not right. Not at all. She pulled back enough to look up at the elven face. "Please don't ask me."
"Lifestream research," Ror began, "done by people I am not aware of inside the Tripower. I need to learn about Throm. Because I need to know who can be trusted. If you want to stay out of it, give me a key and directions and I figure everything out for myself and I swear I will never ask or tell again."
"Then stop looking for Throm. Thasmudyan... was the subject."
Shame washed over Sanria as she walked away from Ror. How easily she had given up Thasmudyan. And why? To take the heat off of her own self? To get Thasmudyan out of her cavern? To help... She felt Ror's arm around her. He was still asking questions, though now about Thasmudyan, about his place in TriPower so many years ago. It incensed her. Ror was from the very same government that had passed through its doors not only the elf, but Thasmudyan and Throm. And Ror could not have known it, the way he answered the questions, the quirks of his mannerisms, the way he would pointedly let her bluster out her anger and as cool as you please continue his thoughts... he was so much like the man whose research he was chasing, like the man who had fallen into an abyss where Sanria could not follow. She had to get away and stay away. "Picnic next thursday?" Ror asked, after everything she had shouted at him. And the words were out before she knew they were coming: "Send me a card."
Awakenings (1-2)
Pain...
A beacon of pain pulsed within Colin's head, never quite dying but flaring to new life in correspondence with each heartbeat. At least he had a heartbeat, that was good, but with pain like this he found himself wishing it would cease in order to quiet the agony.
He lay curled in a fetal position upon something soft. He didn't quite know what or where and he didn't want to open his eyes just yet to find out. It hurt just trying to think. His mouth was dry and carried a taste like month old yogurt. He wondered for a moment just how long he had been lying here, but it hurt to wonder.
He heard a quiet click, a gentle creak like a door being opened, and a soft shuffling coming nearer. The sound startled him and the minor increase in his heart rate sent fresh waves of agony pulsing through his head. Perhaps this was an assassin, creeping in to end this misery. That wouldn't be so bad, now would it? There was a slight clink of glass and the sound was like a gong crashing inside his head. Colin's body tensed and he gave an involuntary groan.
A gentle voice spoke, "Ah, so you are finally awake."
Colin's brow tightened in anguish. Apparently this person wasn't here to end his suffering after all, but the gentle voice was like a crashing of boulders. Colin managed to weakly croak out a single word, "...hurts..."
"Oh yes, of course. I'm sure you're in pain. Let me see if I can help."
Colin felt a cool hand rest gently against his temple and, for the briefest of moments, the contact was like an iron spike being driven into his skull. There was a quick rush of warmth and the pain changed from iron spikes to a partially tensioned vice. It still hurt, but this could be bearable.
Colin managed to crack open his eyes. He was in tidy white walled room and a silvery-skinned woman in a plain white robe stood beside his bed, smiling down upon him. He knew this woman, they had met before although, it seemed a lifetime ago. It took him a moment to dredge up the name through his aching head. "Amilach?"
The silvery woman nodded in satisfaction, "Yes. You remember. That's good... very good."
Colin summoned the strength to uncurl from his ball and pull himself into a sitting position. The ache in his head intensified and he winced, placing a hand against his temple. He was surprised to find a significant growth of beard scratching against his palm. He looked over to Amilach in confusion. "How long have I been sleeping?"
"Almost three months now. We weren't sure if you would make it, but you are a strong one, fortunately. What do you remember?"
Colin closed his eyes with a furrowed brow. For some reason remembering was difficult. Not everything made sense, like there were holes, and the holes hurt. "Fenlauch brought me here, to this plane. He brought me to you."
Amilach nodded, "Yes, that's right. Do you remember why?"
"I... I was sick. There was something in me. Black makou?"
Amilach nodded again and gestured to a table sitting near the opposite side of the bed. Upon the table was a large glass jar, filled three quarters of the way with a thick black substance. Colin watched it for a moment and felt like he was looking at something alive. He looked away, back to Amilach. "Thank you," he managed with a relieved breath.
"No thanks are necessary. Tell me, how did that get inside you?"
Colin took in a breath and probed his memory once more. He knew that Amilach knew all these answers. He was being tested.
"Brin. She attacked me. I was going to die but Throm saved me. He.. put me in a tank."
Amilach looked impressed at this. She smiled serenely. "Well Colin, you have done exceptionally well. Once you have regained your strength, you will be ready to go home."
Colin nodded. Home. The cavern. But something bothered him and it caused his head to hurt more when he thought about it.
"Amilach... why do I live in such a large home for just me?"
Amilach's smile fell.
A beacon of pain pulsed within Colin's head, never quite dying but flaring to new life in correspondence with each heartbeat. At least he had a heartbeat, that was good, but with pain like this he found himself wishing it would cease in order to quiet the agony.
He lay curled in a fetal position upon something soft. He didn't quite know what or where and he didn't want to open his eyes just yet to find out. It hurt just trying to think. His mouth was dry and carried a taste like month old yogurt. He wondered for a moment just how long he had been lying here, but it hurt to wonder.
He heard a quiet click, a gentle creak like a door being opened, and a soft shuffling coming nearer. The sound startled him and the minor increase in his heart rate sent fresh waves of agony pulsing through his head. Perhaps this was an assassin, creeping in to end this misery. That wouldn't be so bad, now would it? There was a slight clink of glass and the sound was like a gong crashing inside his head. Colin's body tensed and he gave an involuntary groan.
A gentle voice spoke, "Ah, so you are finally awake."
Colin's brow tightened in anguish. Apparently this person wasn't here to end his suffering after all, but the gentle voice was like a crashing of boulders. Colin managed to weakly croak out a single word, "...hurts..."
"Oh yes, of course. I'm sure you're in pain. Let me see if I can help."
Colin felt a cool hand rest gently against his temple and, for the briefest of moments, the contact was like an iron spike being driven into his skull. There was a quick rush of warmth and the pain changed from iron spikes to a partially tensioned vice. It still hurt, but this could be bearable.
Colin managed to crack open his eyes. He was in tidy white walled room and a silvery-skinned woman in a plain white robe stood beside his bed, smiling down upon him. He knew this woman, they had met before although, it seemed a lifetime ago. It took him a moment to dredge up the name through his aching head. "Amilach?"
The silvery woman nodded in satisfaction, "Yes. You remember. That's good... very good."
Colin summoned the strength to uncurl from his ball and pull himself into a sitting position. The ache in his head intensified and he winced, placing a hand against his temple. He was surprised to find a significant growth of beard scratching against his palm. He looked over to Amilach in confusion. "How long have I been sleeping?"
"Almost three months now. We weren't sure if you would make it, but you are a strong one, fortunately. What do you remember?"
Colin closed his eyes with a furrowed brow. For some reason remembering was difficult. Not everything made sense, like there were holes, and the holes hurt. "Fenlauch brought me here, to this plane. He brought me to you."
Amilach nodded, "Yes, that's right. Do you remember why?"
"I... I was sick. There was something in me. Black makou?"
Amilach nodded again and gestured to a table sitting near the opposite side of the bed. Upon the table was a large glass jar, filled three quarters of the way with a thick black substance. Colin watched it for a moment and felt like he was looking at something alive. He looked away, back to Amilach. "Thank you," he managed with a relieved breath.
"No thanks are necessary. Tell me, how did that get inside you?"
Colin took in a breath and probed his memory once more. He knew that Amilach knew all these answers. He was being tested.
"Brin. She attacked me. I was going to die but Throm saved me. He.. put me in a tank."
Amilach looked impressed at this. She smiled serenely. "Well Colin, you have done exceptionally well. Once you have regained your strength, you will be ready to go home."
Colin nodded. Home. The cavern. But something bothered him and it caused his head to hurt more when he thought about it.
"Amilach... why do I live in such a large home for just me?"
Amilach's smile fell.
Future Operations
It is good to see a break in the silence about these actions. It has been a long time since anything has been done. However, I would have you know that the Hoard has not ceased operating within the walls of Westbridge, as per our contract.
Since you appear to be attempting to replace Throm and the TriPower in regards to these operations, I will inform you of the role of myself and my brothers. We have a contract with the TriPower that we will honor, despite their disappearance, as they have already paid.
Our role is to provide information gathering and supply lines for the invading force. My understanding is that the invading force provided would be the Radiant Heart.
Thus, it is our purpose to provide supplies, and secure supply lines, along with lending assistance via intelligence gathering and assistance in gaining entrance to the city. Our network of operatives are already in place throughout Westbridge, merely awaiting orders. And we have been providing provisions to the citizens, bypassing the blockade and Vectorian patrols. Additionally, we have a cache of arms and equipment, along with provisions, for the invading force to help prevent them from being cut off by potential Vectorian reenforcements.
We are more than willing to utilize Vorcet and his skills to benefit the operation. We are ready and waiting for word that the operation has begun. So once the Radiant Heart are prepared to mobilize, we will fulfill our contract.
Dryden Rainweaver
Vox of the Hoard
Since you appear to be attempting to replace Throm and the TriPower in regards to these operations, I will inform you of the role of myself and my brothers. We have a contract with the TriPower that we will honor, despite their disappearance, as they have already paid.
Our role is to provide information gathering and supply lines for the invading force. My understanding is that the invading force provided would be the Radiant Heart.
Thus, it is our purpose to provide supplies, and secure supply lines, along with lending assistance via intelligence gathering and assistance in gaining entrance to the city. Our network of operatives are already in place throughout Westbridge, merely awaiting orders. And we have been providing provisions to the citizens, bypassing the blockade and Vectorian patrols. Additionally, we have a cache of arms and equipment, along with provisions, for the invading force to help prevent them from being cut off by potential Vectorian reenforcements.
We are more than willing to utilize Vorcet and his skills to benefit the operation. We are ready and waiting for word that the operation has begun. So once the Radiant Heart are prepared to mobilize, we will fulfill our contract.
Dryden Rainweaver
Vox of the Hoard
A Balanced Proposal
** A snow white falcon wings its way through the sky, seeming to find its way through all barriers to gain purchase on your arm. It is winded, carrying with it a rather large parchment case in which is a rolled piece, sealed with deep green wax.**
Greetings to the grand assemblages of the Hoard and Radiant Heart. My name is Sanria Stone and I am but one of three leaders of the clan, Keepers of Balance. Our presence is not well known, being relatively new as a whole to the world of Cruoris, though as a individuals, we have been within the realms for a very long time now.
I write this missive as a proposal of sorts. Long before, a man of great importance to me, Throm, was aiding you in a coup to overthrow Vector. While I do not claim to know the particulars, I have, I believe, reasonably assumed that Throm's untimely death was a playing factor in the stalling and ultimate freeze for the action needed in Westbridge. I understood that your two groups, in combination with TriPower, were poised to deliver a crushing defeat. This is why I write today.
I, along with many others both in Keepers and without, have noticed the growing apathy of the people of Westbridge. They have grown accustomed to the fetters that hold them captive. Given Westbridge's strategic location, high volume of trade, and ability to hold a presence in the realms, we wish to offer a proposal:
One of our leaders, Vorcet Thophen, has gained access to Vectorian armors. In exchange for creating a balanced city, one in which all governments and groups have a representative in place, we would like to offer Vorcet's services in gathering intelligence.
What this would allow for is to have your forces take less damage and perhaps save lives. If we could deliver to you the weaknesses of the opposing force, as well as their plans regarding their occupation, we feel it could be of immense benefit to you in many regards. Once the Vectorians are removed, we could collectively install a group leadership to strengthen Westbridge against ever being overthrown and taken again. Representatives to oversee trade, protection, mediation, and general operations of the city.
Our aim in this is merely to instill a sense of balance in a place that is prominent within these realms, while offering the opportunity to prevent unneccesary loss of life. A chance to be the mediating presence in a city sorely in need of fairness and truth. Please, take into consideration the offer of Vorcet's abilities. It is but a small token of what we can provide in getting the fires started once more and ending the abominable situation that the Westbridgian's have lived under for far too long.
I look forward with hope to your reply,
Sanria Stone, Keepers of Balance
Greetings to the grand assemblages of the Hoard and Radiant Heart. My name is Sanria Stone and I am but one of three leaders of the clan, Keepers of Balance. Our presence is not well known, being relatively new as a whole to the world of Cruoris, though as a individuals, we have been within the realms for a very long time now.
I write this missive as a proposal of sorts. Long before, a man of great importance to me, Throm, was aiding you in a coup to overthrow Vector. While I do not claim to know the particulars, I have, I believe, reasonably assumed that Throm's untimely death was a playing factor in the stalling and ultimate freeze for the action needed in Westbridge. I understood that your two groups, in combination with TriPower, were poised to deliver a crushing defeat. This is why I write today.
I, along with many others both in Keepers and without, have noticed the growing apathy of the people of Westbridge. They have grown accustomed to the fetters that hold them captive. Given Westbridge's strategic location, high volume of trade, and ability to hold a presence in the realms, we wish to offer a proposal:
One of our leaders, Vorcet Thophen, has gained access to Vectorian armors. In exchange for creating a balanced city, one in which all governments and groups have a representative in place, we would like to offer Vorcet's services in gathering intelligence.
What this would allow for is to have your forces take less damage and perhaps save lives. If we could deliver to you the weaknesses of the opposing force, as well as their plans regarding their occupation, we feel it could be of immense benefit to you in many regards. Once the Vectorians are removed, we could collectively install a group leadership to strengthen Westbridge against ever being overthrown and taken again. Representatives to oversee trade, protection, mediation, and general operations of the city.
Our aim in this is merely to instill a sense of balance in a place that is prominent within these realms, while offering the opportunity to prevent unneccesary loss of life. A chance to be the mediating presence in a city sorely in need of fairness and truth. Please, take into consideration the offer of Vorcet's abilities. It is but a small token of what we can provide in getting the fires started once more and ending the abominable situation that the Westbridgian's have lived under for far too long.
I look forward with hope to your reply,
Sanria Stone, Keepers of Balance
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
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.
Familiarity (1-2)
Sanria was warmed at how enthusiastically Ror took the moss. He checked his list and agreed he had all he needed. Methodical and attentive. She stared at the uniform again with a smile and nod. "Throm would have been very happy with you, I know it."
"Eh?" came the puzzled reply.
"Ah, my ramblings. You're a studious mind and a researcher. He would have truly enjoyed meeting you and perhaps getting to know you as he was also."
"Was he a famous researcher?" Ror asked.
"Famous..." and Sanria chuckled. "He was a congressman for TriPower and a leader of the army. I don't know about famous, but well known. Well known."
"I will ask around then, because I have not seen any statues of him yet."
"I don't know that there will be any. But he was a good man. It seems you are as well."
She anticipated Ror would be off and in fact Sanria had made ready to say goodbye, but it seemed the sorrow on her face had stopped the researcher from going. "My apologies if my remarks have caused you sorrow. I meant well. All the great men and women of the TriPower have their statue. I know, I studied them. Just none of Throm."
"There is no need for apologies. I'm not truly certain all know of his death, he was known for disappearing as well. In their minds, he may simply be off on another adventure." Wasn't that death anyway? Another grand adventure? Inwardly she chuckled, certainly Throm would have thought so.
"May I be so bold and ask you how he died?"
Sanria took the proffered arm and allowed herself to be led to the side of the falls where moss grew in abundance. There, she sat near Ror, and told him about Throm's death - the black makou that had plagued him for so many years - the last time she saw him that he was free of it, but had died. The truth was, Sanria did not know how Throm had died, but she had a suspicion. Getting the black mako out, in her mind, had ended Throm's life. The thought flittered across her mind that what was in Colin might just have to stay in there forever.
Colin... she had forgotten completely about Colin and Nioma. The last thing she needed was Colin to come out of the cavern and see her sprawled on the moss with a man he'd never seen. Not that she was, necessarily, sprawled "with" Ror, but... "I think I shall go then, but I would like to make an appoint, if that's not a problem," he asked as she rose to go.
"To return?"
"Here? I suspect elsewhere to be honest. But if here, then here, yes." It shocked Sanria a little, they hadn't gotten on that well, had they? "Any where, certainly. When and where?"
"When you have the time, as for where, that would be Throm's laboratory."
Sanria's breath caught. The absolute forward nature of the request was raw against the wound she had allowed to surface. What had she done? "I... can't do that... I'm sorry."
"Sorry, I didn't mean you have to go with me. You can if you want. All I ask is that you show me where it is."
"No... I can't... do that," she replied again. What the hell had she done.
"Too dangerous or personal objections?"
"Quite a bit of both, I assure you. Throm had secrets that... even with his not being here, I suspect would be best kept that way. Besides... he does still have a son out there somewhere and I don't feel it my place to reveal his father's personal life."
"Alright. There's nothing I can do then. But, if Throm's research falls in another's hands, outside the TriPower, what then?"
"There is much you do not know about Throm uth Bannon, Ror."
They parted, Ror's words, "Heh, you told me more than they did. And I read the books too. Such an important man, yet no statue," knocking against her brain. And then he mouthed a few words, no sound, but she was certain she had not misinterpreted. "I need to know. Because I don't trust him." Even in death, she thought, Throm was plagued with what? Being a politician and a sorcerer who knew far more than he ever let on. She would meet with Ror again, but this time, she would watch her words carefully.
Sanria went back inside, back into the thick air, back into the place where happiness hinged on her staying put. She regretted going outside today. She regretted talking to someone new. She regretted that she would have to weave yet another fabrication to extricate herself from saying too much, and yet another fabrication to keep someone she cared for safe... even if he was dead.
"Eh?" came the puzzled reply.
"Ah, my ramblings. You're a studious mind and a researcher. He would have truly enjoyed meeting you and perhaps getting to know you as he was also."
"Was he a famous researcher?" Ror asked.
"Famous..." and Sanria chuckled. "He was a congressman for TriPower and a leader of the army. I don't know about famous, but well known. Well known."
"I will ask around then, because I have not seen any statues of him yet."
"I don't know that there will be any. But he was a good man. It seems you are as well."
She anticipated Ror would be off and in fact Sanria had made ready to say goodbye, but it seemed the sorrow on her face had stopped the researcher from going. "My apologies if my remarks have caused you sorrow. I meant well. All the great men and women of the TriPower have their statue. I know, I studied them. Just none of Throm."
"There is no need for apologies. I'm not truly certain all know of his death, he was known for disappearing as well. In their minds, he may simply be off on another adventure." Wasn't that death anyway? Another grand adventure? Inwardly she chuckled, certainly Throm would have thought so.
"May I be so bold and ask you how he died?"
Sanria took the proffered arm and allowed herself to be led to the side of the falls where moss grew in abundance. There, she sat near Ror, and told him about Throm's death - the black makou that had plagued him for so many years - the last time she saw him that he was free of it, but had died. The truth was, Sanria did not know how Throm had died, but she had a suspicion. Getting the black mako out, in her mind, had ended Throm's life. The thought flittered across her mind that what was in Colin might just have to stay in there forever.
Colin... she had forgotten completely about Colin and Nioma. The last thing she needed was Colin to come out of the cavern and see her sprawled on the moss with a man he'd never seen. Not that she was, necessarily, sprawled "with" Ror, but... "I think I shall go then, but I would like to make an appoint, if that's not a problem," he asked as she rose to go.
"To return?"
"Here? I suspect elsewhere to be honest. But if here, then here, yes." It shocked Sanria a little, they hadn't gotten on that well, had they? "Any where, certainly. When and where?"
"When you have the time, as for where, that would be Throm's laboratory."
Sanria's breath caught. The absolute forward nature of the request was raw against the wound she had allowed to surface. What had she done? "I... can't do that... I'm sorry."
"Sorry, I didn't mean you have to go with me. You can if you want. All I ask is that you show me where it is."
"No... I can't... do that," she replied again. What the hell had she done.
"Too dangerous or personal objections?"
"Quite a bit of both, I assure you. Throm had secrets that... even with his not being here, I suspect would be best kept that way. Besides... he does still have a son out there somewhere and I don't feel it my place to reveal his father's personal life."
"Alright. There's nothing I can do then. But, if Throm's research falls in another's hands, outside the TriPower, what then?"
"There is much you do not know about Throm uth Bannon, Ror."
They parted, Ror's words, "Heh, you told me more than they did. And I read the books too. Such an important man, yet no statue," knocking against her brain. And then he mouthed a few words, no sound, but she was certain she had not misinterpreted. "I need to know. Because I don't trust him." Even in death, she thought, Throm was plagued with what? Being a politician and a sorcerer who knew far more than he ever let on. She would meet with Ror again, but this time, she would watch her words carefully.
Sanria went back inside, back into the thick air, back into the place where happiness hinged on her staying put. She regretted going outside today. She regretted talking to someone new. She regretted that she would have to weave yet another fabrication to extricate herself from saying too much, and yet another fabrication to keep someone she cared for safe... even if he was dead.
The Elf
Tea. That's why Sanria needed to leave the cavern. Not for the stifling feeling or the sensation she was drowning beneath the weight of some yet untold lie. Not for the tiny twinge of guilt that wrenched her bowels in a tremor of tiny needles pricking at her innards. Tea. Herbs. She was running out, knowing full well the containers were full. Sanria excused herself, leaving Colin holding Nioma, "their" blue-eyed daughter.
The forest offered a lungful of fresh air. Sanria could never quite explain how the forest made her feel. The air was vital, thick with the scent of pine and loam. It was cool and soothing, and she found herself humming quietly as she plucked the growing sprigs of chamomile and yarrow. With a few more spearmint leaves, she would have enough. And as she went to the edge of a tree, she heard the humming that was not her own.
Sanria was stunned into silence. He was an elf, tanned, athletic, and a bit taller than Sanria herself. Her eyes then fell on his uniform and she found her breath caught in her throat. When was the last time she had seen a TriPower uniform? A sudden wave grief hit her, but she untied the knot in her stomach and fought back the tears that stung her eyes. She rarely allowed herself time to think of Throm. In everything that had happened, those memories had been relegated to the back of her mind.
"Excuse me..." Sanria said, approaching the elf, who now picked at a few herbs of his own.
"Oh! Hello, didn't see you there," he replied.
"Quite alright... I was just... wondering... you are wearing TriPower regalia, correct?" Of course she was correct, but anything to make small talk. Anything to perhaps touch a tiny corner of the fabric that had been her life. Not too much... but just enough.
"Ahem, yes madam, indeed, you are correct."
"It's been a long while since I've seen it..."
"The regalia, or something else?"
"You are keenly perceptive. I lost someone very special to me." She wanted nothing more than to reach out and touch the armors. She refrained.
"You may have known him, though perhaps not, he was a leader of TriPower."
"I'm all ears, madam."
"Throm uth Bannon," she replied, fighting her grief back.
The forest offered a lungful of fresh air. Sanria could never quite explain how the forest made her feel. The air was vital, thick with the scent of pine and loam. It was cool and soothing, and she found herself humming quietly as she plucked the growing sprigs of chamomile and yarrow. With a few more spearmint leaves, she would have enough. And as she went to the edge of a tree, she heard the humming that was not her own.
Sanria was stunned into silence. He was an elf, tanned, athletic, and a bit taller than Sanria herself. Her eyes then fell on his uniform and she found her breath caught in her throat. When was the last time she had seen a TriPower uniform? A sudden wave grief hit her, but she untied the knot in her stomach and fought back the tears that stung her eyes. She rarely allowed herself time to think of Throm. In everything that had happened, those memories had been relegated to the back of her mind.
"Excuse me..." Sanria said, approaching the elf, who now picked at a few herbs of his own.
"Oh! Hello, didn't see you there," he replied.
"Quite alright... I was just... wondering... you are wearing TriPower regalia, correct?" Of course she was correct, but anything to make small talk. Anything to perhaps touch a tiny corner of the fabric that had been her life. Not too much... but just enough.
"Ahem, yes madam, indeed, you are correct."
"It's been a long while since I've seen it..."
"The regalia, or something else?"
"You are keenly perceptive. I lost someone very special to me." She wanted nothing more than to reach out and touch the armors. She refrained.
"You may have known him, though perhaps not, he was a leader of TriPower."
"I'm all ears, madam."
"Throm uth Bannon," she replied, fighting her grief back.
Log: 07102012 - Ror and Sanria
OOC commentary: Second encounter with Sanria. It is a continuation of the previous one. This time she tells Ror quite a bit about the past, including the TriPower and Throm! The conversation also strayed upon Westbridge and its occupation. A discussion that not only had the important line "uplifting the spirit of the people of Westbridge" in it, but possibly also pushed Sanria further onto the path of ensuring Westbridge would be liberated.
Log: 28062012 - Ror and Mason
OOC comment: This scene is after the meeting with Zeltor, but before Ror found his way into the TriPower Kingdom. Near the end of this log, the roleplay sadly derailed in OOC talk quite instantly. In retrospect the emoticon at the start might have been a clue.
It's difficult to roleplay when OOC and IC are mixed and not kept apart. In this case it immediately ended the roleplay as the conversation switched to OOC at once. Keeping these apart is usually a learning process. If your roleplay companion has not mastered this yet, be careful because in the worse cases it may lead to OOC drama and upset people.
It's difficult to roleplay when OOC and IC are mixed and not kept apart. In this case it immediately ended the roleplay as the conversation switched to OOC at once. Keeping these apart is usually a learning process. If your roleplay companion has not mastered this yet, be careful because in the worse cases it may lead to OOC drama and upset people.
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