Full war gear was his garb of choice for the occasion, being most appropriate for meeting warriors. Aside from the possibility of the meeting getting ugly, there was an impression that he wished to make. A blue plume rose from his war helm set beside him, like a great azure feather of unknown origin. In his own mind, Aorle suspected that it was not truly a feather at all, but some fabric construct made by the gnomish machines in the city.
Word had been spread among the household staff of where to find him, in the garden. Even now, a mild disappointment and worry lingered from the early morning, for he had been unable to spend his breakfast in the company of Shantay as had become usual for him. It still bothered him.
Of course, the morning had some merits to it so far. Already he had been able to provide shelter for an adorable family, one which intended to make contributions towards their new home, and what would soon be the home of others. Wistfully, he looked forward to his next chance to speak to that family. Although there had not been chance to gain a true impression of Rollick, both Zee and Uluki had warmed his heart in the short time that he had known them.
Arranged around him in a clear space on the open grass were his spear, his shield, and his war helm. All of which were somewhat cumbersome to wear or carry, and needless when he intended to remain in the one spot. Large rounded steel encased most of his arm in a metal harness, with his inside-upper arm instead protected by sleeves of pointed metal scales joined together, continued from the main armour of his body, hidden beneath the azure surcoat. Emblazoned on both front and back of the garment was a design resembling a downwards-pointing longsword, orbited by five stars forming a semi-circle around the hilt.
Currently he was sat back on his calves, head bowed, resting his weight on his shins rather than his knees, gazing inward. Many would consider this to be prayer, and a form of prayer it was, only towards the Heavens themselves and their compassionate devotion, rather than any individual entity that could be named. Every mind had limits and desires, so no mind could truly embody what he prayed to, what he worshipped and idolised.
For the Teachings of Angels had no servants, for none would call themselves master.
Perhaps as a surprise to the household staff, was how approachable the nobleman intended to be. They were to fetch him if there was need, and informed to have no concerns regarding interruption.
Awaiting the Armies
-
Sir Karsimir
- Citizen
- Posts: 714
- Joined: Wed Jan 10, 2007 8:12 pm
- Name: Karsimir Von Greyssen
- Race: Reichvolk human
Awaiting the Armies
My faith protects me, my kevlar helps.
-
Falcon Bertille
- Citizen
- Posts: 196
- Joined: Tue Feb 13, 2007 4:15 pm
Mavelle couldn’t help but feel a bit of trepidation as she and Asiona walked through the gardens which surrounded House Anstrun. After practically begging her friend to meet Railtus, she now found herself plagued by misgivings surrounding the encounter. What if Railtus resented the intrusion? Last night, he’d come home so late that she’d already been in bed, and even a small thing like that was enough to make Mavelle worry. What if he was avoiding her? What if he didn’t want to see her -- much less have some inquisitive stranger thrust at him?
As they hurried down the dirt path, Mavelle slipped a hand into her pocket, fingering the thick gold ring that Railtus had given her at the end of their last meeting. She carried it with her everywhere. Indeed, she would have worn it proudly, if doing so wouldn’t have raised questions about where it came from, and if the answers to those questions wouldn’t have raised hell. Now, she caressed the smooth circle in search of comfort. How could everything seem so perfect at first, only to dissolve into a sea of doubts and complications? Was that the way of love? Or was this proof that she’d never felt love at all?
Confirming what they’d been told by the servants, the two girls found Railtus in the grassy clearing where Mavelle had often played when she was a child. When she saw him there, dressed in full armor with the tools of his trade set out around him, so peaceful and yet so strong, the conflict consuming her heart raged more strongly than ever. He seemed so good. But if he was good, why did she sometimes feel such terrible things because of him?
Mavelle glanced at Asiona, reassured by her friend’s presence. Asiona would get to the bottom of this.
“Railtus?” Mavelle spoke softly, not wanting to startle the man, who appeared deeply absorbed in his thoughts. “I don’t mean to disturb you. But this is my friend, Asiona. We were talking yesterday, and I told her all about you, and we thought...well, we thought it would be nice if the two of you could meet.”
As they hurried down the dirt path, Mavelle slipped a hand into her pocket, fingering the thick gold ring that Railtus had given her at the end of their last meeting. She carried it with her everywhere. Indeed, she would have worn it proudly, if doing so wouldn’t have raised questions about where it came from, and if the answers to those questions wouldn’t have raised hell. Now, she caressed the smooth circle in search of comfort. How could everything seem so perfect at first, only to dissolve into a sea of doubts and complications? Was that the way of love? Or was this proof that she’d never felt love at all?
Confirming what they’d been told by the servants, the two girls found Railtus in the grassy clearing where Mavelle had often played when she was a child. When she saw him there, dressed in full armor with the tools of his trade set out around him, so peaceful and yet so strong, the conflict consuming her heart raged more strongly than ever. He seemed so good. But if he was good, why did she sometimes feel such terrible things because of him?
Mavelle glanced at Asiona, reassured by her friend’s presence. Asiona would get to the bottom of this.
“Railtus?” Mavelle spoke softly, not wanting to startle the man, who appeared deeply absorbed in his thoughts. “I don’t mean to disturb you. But this is my friend, Asiona. We were talking yesterday, and I told her all about you, and we thought...well, we thought it would be nice if the two of you could meet.”
-
Asiona & Lateus
- Citizen
- Posts: 79
- Joined: Tue Jan 30, 2007 3:51 am
As they walked through the gardens and Railtus was in full sight, Asiona was a little more than awestruck. In more ways than one: First, he was in full battle gear, which glowed faintly in the light dappled by the trees. It matched his longish white-blonde hair and even made his skin glow a little whiter. All in all, he looked serene and noble, a striking mix for a first impression.
Second, despite his emerging manly features and the way he held himself, he was not any older than Mavelle or Asiona. For some reason, she had imagined him to be much older, at least in his twenties. With all the accomplishments under his belt, one would expect so!
This slightly confusing mix of blinding realizations made her jaw hang, showing how impressed she was. Within the next moment Mavelle looked her way and snapped her back to the present situation. She blinked and closed her mouth, regaining her composure immediately. He sure was cute. She blushed slightly. He's your friend's! she scolded herself, even as Mavelle introduced her to him.
Not knowing what to do since his face was bowed, she curtseyed anyway and mumbled an incoherent greeting. He seemed so peaceful she didn't want to disrupt him, and had resisted the urge to hush her friend as she spoke. Now that the pall of silence was broken, however, she felt much more at ease. The serenity was infectious and so she waited patiently for his response, calm despite bracing herself for rebuke.
Second, despite his emerging manly features and the way he held himself, he was not any older than Mavelle or Asiona. For some reason, she had imagined him to be much older, at least in his twenties. With all the accomplishments under his belt, one would expect so!
This slightly confusing mix of blinding realizations made her jaw hang, showing how impressed she was. Within the next moment Mavelle looked her way and snapped her back to the present situation. She blinked and closed her mouth, regaining her composure immediately. He sure was cute. She blushed slightly. He's your friend's! she scolded herself, even as Mavelle introduced her to him.
Not knowing what to do since his face was bowed, she curtseyed anyway and mumbled an incoherent greeting. He seemed so peaceful she didn't want to disrupt him, and had resisted the urge to hush her friend as she spoke. Now that the pall of silence was broken, however, she felt much more at ease. The serenity was infectious and so she waited patiently for his response, calm despite bracing herself for rebuke.
-
Sir Karsimir
- Citizen
- Posts: 714
- Joined: Wed Jan 10, 2007 8:12 pm
- Name: Karsimir Von Greyssen
- Race: Reichvolk human
First emotion to greet Mavelle's arrival was regret, followed by doubt, on the grounds that no other feelings stepped forward to fill the moment of her entrance. Cause for regret indeed, as now he felt as if going through the motions of courting rather than enjoying a reunion with his lady fair. Whatever had caused such an ennui to strike at them? Perhaps he had been less forgiving of the disappointments than he had intended? Her reaction to Krarug? To the cruelties and injustices of brother? The many empty diversions in her life?
While honesty was ever his way, wounding someone in such a manner could never be, so he held his dark thoughts for another time. They would need to discuss if there was a future between them, if she could accept the difference in lifestyle and priorities. Although hardly a fundamentalist to his faith, there was no way that he could spend his life with one unable to share his passion for right and justice.
Shaking his head in an effort to dispel the doubts, Aorle unclasped his hands and rose to his feet, leaving the surrounding equipment on the floor. "'Tis no disturbance at all Mavelle. 'Tis good to see you." Was that the trace of an accent? If memory served, that accent was habitually suppressed, at the insistance of both the Duke and his father, who did not want a nobleman to bear the 'stain of a barbarian' on his voice... however cultured and elegant the barbarians sounded.
Being introduced as he was, Aorle nodded his head in the briefest of bows and welcomed Asiona with outstretched hand. "Greetings Asiona. How do you do?" Beyond that, he was not sure what else to say. Clearly Mavelle had some purpose in mind for this meeting, probably a test or investigation of some sort.
"In case you are wondering," commented Aorle, addressing them both, "the armour is for meeting warriors today who may be joining me, and full war gear makes a better impression." Metallic chinking accompanied the shrug of his shoulders. "Being outside is for courtesy sake, 'tis generally considered poor form to demolish the furniture of one's host, and armour is known to have that effect." Demolish was perhaps an overstatement, although the steel would certainly scratch and chip anything he attempted to rest on.
As much from habit as any practical reason, he finished with a courtesy. "How may I be of service, m'ladies?"
While honesty was ever his way, wounding someone in such a manner could never be, so he held his dark thoughts for another time. They would need to discuss if there was a future between them, if she could accept the difference in lifestyle and priorities. Although hardly a fundamentalist to his faith, there was no way that he could spend his life with one unable to share his passion for right and justice.
Shaking his head in an effort to dispel the doubts, Aorle unclasped his hands and rose to his feet, leaving the surrounding equipment on the floor. "'Tis no disturbance at all Mavelle. 'Tis good to see you." Was that the trace of an accent? If memory served, that accent was habitually suppressed, at the insistance of both the Duke and his father, who did not want a nobleman to bear the 'stain of a barbarian' on his voice... however cultured and elegant the barbarians sounded.
Being introduced as he was, Aorle nodded his head in the briefest of bows and welcomed Asiona with outstretched hand. "Greetings Asiona. How do you do?" Beyond that, he was not sure what else to say. Clearly Mavelle had some purpose in mind for this meeting, probably a test or investigation of some sort.
"In case you are wondering," commented Aorle, addressing them both, "the armour is for meeting warriors today who may be joining me, and full war gear makes a better impression." Metallic chinking accompanied the shrug of his shoulders. "Being outside is for courtesy sake, 'tis generally considered poor form to demolish the furniture of one's host, and armour is known to have that effect." Demolish was perhaps an overstatement, although the steel would certainly scratch and chip anything he attempted to rest on.
As much from habit as any practical reason, he finished with a courtesy. "How may I be of service, m'ladies?"
My faith protects me, my kevlar helps.
-
Falcon Bertille
- Citizen
- Posts: 196
- Joined: Tue Feb 13, 2007 4:15 pm
Mavelle fidgeted. This wasn’t going well. She’d thought that as soon as she brought Asiona within sight of Railtus, her friend would start bombarding him with questions. But for once in her life, Asiona seemed to be at a loss for words. So now Mavelle was forced to concoct some reason for the meeting. What could she say? That she’d brought Asiona there to test him? That she was too weak-willed to make up her own mind? That she didn’t know what to think anymore and she was desperately hoping that someone else might?
“I told Asiona about the orc. She thought it was really interesting that you knew an orc and could talk to it in its own language. She’s always doing research about uncommon races. So I thought that maybe if you met, she could ask you questions...about the orc.”
Mavelle hung her head. She felt sick and ashamed of the whole charade. Ever since Railtus got back from Shim, it seemed like everything she did disappointed him, and this was probably going to be no exception. Part of her wanted to turn and run from the garden. But that would be awkward for Asiona -- who was, after all, here because Mavelle had asked her to be. Once begun, the thing had to be finished. She just hoped that Asiona would start chattering soon, drawing Railtus’s attention to her, and allowing Mavelle to fade into the background.
“I told Asiona about the orc. She thought it was really interesting that you knew an orc and could talk to it in its own language. She’s always doing research about uncommon races. So I thought that maybe if you met, she could ask you questions...about the orc.”
Mavelle hung her head. She felt sick and ashamed of the whole charade. Ever since Railtus got back from Shim, it seemed like everything she did disappointed him, and this was probably going to be no exception. Part of her wanted to turn and run from the garden. But that would be awkward for Asiona -- who was, after all, here because Mavelle had asked her to be. Once begun, the thing had to be finished. She just hoped that Asiona would start chattering soon, drawing Railtus’s attention to her, and allowing Mavelle to fade into the background.
-
Sir Karsimir
- Citizen
- Posts: 714
- Joined: Wed Jan 10, 2007 8:12 pm
- Name: Karsimir Von Greyssen
- Race: Reichvolk human
Next emotion to strike was pity, for the deceit brought before him, and for the need she seemed to feel for it. Despite the warmth of his greeting, she was still afraid. Again, he would hope to offer more reassurance and security to the lady who he was to court. He would also hope that she could accept it.
From her body language, the falsehood was obvious. Successful warriors all learned to read body language, because that was an ability that they would live and die by. There was one lie often told by every warrior, and that was where the next the blow would be struck.
Patience for others was part of compassion, patience for deceit was another thing entirely. So he decided to cut through the deception as surely as he would cut through a foe in battle, for right now, deception was his foe. "Truthfully Mavelle, what concerns you?" Rather than a rebuke, it was an assurance. Assurance that she could approach him on this, that he would not hate her for being less than perfect. With that said, he took her hand in both of his own.
In the following instant, there was a thud from a large door swinging shut, and a liveried servant approached them all. Reluctantly, Aorle released Mavelle's hand, not wishing to cause her any difficulty. "My lord," began the servant first, "three warriors are here for you. My lady," now addressing Mavelle, "Lord Kendall summons you, he has a gentleman here he wishes you to meet."
Releasing a heavy sigh, the chevalier glanced ruefully between the two ladies, "Excuse me." With that, he strode in to greet his new arrivals.
Approaching the large, front double-doors, one of the household troops announced, "We got some savages asking for you." Aorle ignored him, trusting that his definition of savage did not match that of the sentry.
Passing the front door to the outside, three men stood before him. The first, was large and burly, with the edges of his clear-white face lined with bushy chestnut beard, dressed in thick leathers and furs in a familiar and functional style. On his belt was a hefty double-headed axe, and slung over his back was both a long kite shield and a broad hewing spear. An instant kinship struck Aorle on the sight of him for this was a fellow Gorl. Second, was more distinctive and exotic. Short and stocky, with a coarse black beard framing his face with thick bristles and skin as rough as gravel. Worn was what appeared to be a massive wolf-pelt worn as a body-suit, matching the shape of his form too well, with his face seeming to stare from out of the wolf's jawless and toothless mouth. It took a moment to recognise the skin as having been taken from a werewolf. After the archer, was a slim man bearing skin like shaded bronze, dark in skin enough to resemble a conjured horror from the Kingdom of Night. Blinking, Aorle understood that this fellow was more human that him.
"We pitched tents." commented the painted man in an almost hollow voice. The pitch-blackened helm on his head heightened the menacing look of his exotic skin.
It was hard not to smile at the dark image actively disguising his humanity, and maybe Aorle could manage it, if only he had tried.
"Very good." grinned the chevalier. "Here I am known as Railtus Anstrun, although you would better know me as Aorle." Mild surprise showed on the two paler, rugged warriors.
If the dark man was surprised by any of that, he covered it masterfully. "We are here to join you." Same impassive voice.
"You have made that into an art form." commented Aorle admiringly.
Silent nod, the stillness of his body providing a stark contrast that drew attention to such a small motion.
"Your names please."
"Numidar." answered the dark-skinned man.
"Gaelm Ordwygar." replied the axeman.
"Merohl." introduced the stocky bowman.
Aorle nodded, "Worthy names. Earning names like that makes you welcome." Addressing the two Gorls.
"You should try Ergled." replied Ordwygar with a grin, meaning Bright Armour.
The chevalier shook his head. "I prefer Aorle. Better to be known for worthy acts, as you are, than for a splendid image."
Merohl, the Beast-Seeker, stated idly, "I like him already."
Ordwygar shrugged, "As a war leader you're about due for a war name as well."
Apparently he had made an impression.
"Very well." decided Aorle. "There are matters that we need to cover. First of all you must understand is our purpose. Any warriors under my command will be pledged to defend the innocent. We are not brigands or reavers, you will be sworn to righteousness first and to me second. Secondly, I am an Angelsworn, a mortal agent of the Heavens. I have announced magical abilities to the Judges and have authorisation to use some of them, specifically the power to heal and to read the evil in the hearts of others." The sentries snapped alert at that, trying to control their horror. "If you have objections serving one such as me then I suggest you leave now. Finally, already in my service are a dwarrowfolk or dwarf as you would know him, a great orc, two imperial warriors, and a yeoman trained from a local farm. I expect you to aid them as I shall expect them to aid you. Any questions?"
"One." answered Gaelm, "When do we start?"
Even Numidar smiled at that one.
"Right now, if that is your wish. We have a base being set up." Speaking for the warband when saying 'we', "Go there, you will meet a Duskling, Lady Uluki, a fae with a bright dress and blue skin. She is in charge in my absence. By the end of the day you can decide if you wish to take the oath. Any objections?"
Numidar piped in, "Is she a warrior?"
"Consider her Lady Seneschal of the base, which I intend to make into a full compound." Another task to do, officially appoint Lady Uluki with her role.
"Where is it?" asked Merohl.
Always a good question. "On the east end of the Industrial District. Head directly north past the Fighter's Guild, continue until you reach a vast gnomish shop complex. It should be the most alien and openly automated building in the district. From there, head east until you see combat training outside a three story wooden building and two shelters. I have searched your souls and have found no darkness in your hearts, so I will trust you. Is that acceptable?"
"Yes, lord." answered Merohl.
With the warriors set off, Aorle returned to Asiona, who would have been eavesdropping if he had cared one whit if there was an audience. When he found her, he noted Mavelle's absence and thus could be fully direct without embarrassing her. It was obvious that Mavelle's claimed reason for bringing Asiona was a pretense, as it was obvious that she did not need a reason to see him or to introduce him to her friends. So she had something in mind, which apparently involved questions, which implied that she was after answers.
Leading her out of earshot of the sentries. "Forgive the delay. Lady Asiona, shall we discuss what Lady Mavelle really wishes for you to find out from me?"
From her body language, the falsehood was obvious. Successful warriors all learned to read body language, because that was an ability that they would live and die by. There was one lie often told by every warrior, and that was where the next the blow would be struck.
Patience for others was part of compassion, patience for deceit was another thing entirely. So he decided to cut through the deception as surely as he would cut through a foe in battle, for right now, deception was his foe. "Truthfully Mavelle, what concerns you?" Rather than a rebuke, it was an assurance. Assurance that she could approach him on this, that he would not hate her for being less than perfect. With that said, he took her hand in both of his own.
In the following instant, there was a thud from a large door swinging shut, and a liveried servant approached them all. Reluctantly, Aorle released Mavelle's hand, not wishing to cause her any difficulty. "My lord," began the servant first, "three warriors are here for you. My lady," now addressing Mavelle, "Lord Kendall summons you, he has a gentleman here he wishes you to meet."
Releasing a heavy sigh, the chevalier glanced ruefully between the two ladies, "Excuse me." With that, he strode in to greet his new arrivals.
Approaching the large, front double-doors, one of the household troops announced, "We got some savages asking for you." Aorle ignored him, trusting that his definition of savage did not match that of the sentry.
Passing the front door to the outside, three men stood before him. The first, was large and burly, with the edges of his clear-white face lined with bushy chestnut beard, dressed in thick leathers and furs in a familiar and functional style. On his belt was a hefty double-headed axe, and slung over his back was both a long kite shield and a broad hewing spear. An instant kinship struck Aorle on the sight of him for this was a fellow Gorl. Second, was more distinctive and exotic. Short and stocky, with a coarse black beard framing his face with thick bristles and skin as rough as gravel. Worn was what appeared to be a massive wolf-pelt worn as a body-suit, matching the shape of his form too well, with his face seeming to stare from out of the wolf's jawless and toothless mouth. It took a moment to recognise the skin as having been taken from a werewolf. After the archer, was a slim man bearing skin like shaded bronze, dark in skin enough to resemble a conjured horror from the Kingdom of Night. Blinking, Aorle understood that this fellow was more human that him.
"We pitched tents." commented the painted man in an almost hollow voice. The pitch-blackened helm on his head heightened the menacing look of his exotic skin.
It was hard not to smile at the dark image actively disguising his humanity, and maybe Aorle could manage it, if only he had tried.
"Very good." grinned the chevalier. "Here I am known as Railtus Anstrun, although you would better know me as Aorle." Mild surprise showed on the two paler, rugged warriors.
If the dark man was surprised by any of that, he covered it masterfully. "We are here to join you." Same impassive voice.
"You have made that into an art form." commented Aorle admiringly.
Silent nod, the stillness of his body providing a stark contrast that drew attention to such a small motion.
"Your names please."
"Numidar." answered the dark-skinned man.
"Gaelm Ordwygar." replied the axeman.
"Merohl." introduced the stocky bowman.
Aorle nodded, "Worthy names. Earning names like that makes you welcome." Addressing the two Gorls.
"You should try Ergled." replied Ordwygar with a grin, meaning Bright Armour.
The chevalier shook his head. "I prefer Aorle. Better to be known for worthy acts, as you are, than for a splendid image."
Merohl, the Beast-Seeker, stated idly, "I like him already."
Ordwygar shrugged, "As a war leader you're about due for a war name as well."
Apparently he had made an impression.
"Very well." decided Aorle. "There are matters that we need to cover. First of all you must understand is our purpose. Any warriors under my command will be pledged to defend the innocent. We are not brigands or reavers, you will be sworn to righteousness first and to me second. Secondly, I am an Angelsworn, a mortal agent of the Heavens. I have announced magical abilities to the Judges and have authorisation to use some of them, specifically the power to heal and to read the evil in the hearts of others." The sentries snapped alert at that, trying to control their horror. "If you have objections serving one such as me then I suggest you leave now. Finally, already in my service are a dwarrowfolk or dwarf as you would know him, a great orc, two imperial warriors, and a yeoman trained from a local farm. I expect you to aid them as I shall expect them to aid you. Any questions?"
"One." answered Gaelm, "When do we start?"
Even Numidar smiled at that one.
"Right now, if that is your wish. We have a base being set up." Speaking for the warband when saying 'we', "Go there, you will meet a Duskling, Lady Uluki, a fae with a bright dress and blue skin. She is in charge in my absence. By the end of the day you can decide if you wish to take the oath. Any objections?"
Numidar piped in, "Is she a warrior?"
"Consider her Lady Seneschal of the base, which I intend to make into a full compound." Another task to do, officially appoint Lady Uluki with her role.
"Where is it?" asked Merohl.
Always a good question. "On the east end of the Industrial District. Head directly north past the Fighter's Guild, continue until you reach a vast gnomish shop complex. It should be the most alien and openly automated building in the district. From there, head east until you see combat training outside a three story wooden building and two shelters. I have searched your souls and have found no darkness in your hearts, so I will trust you. Is that acceptable?"
"Yes, lord." answered Merohl.
With the warriors set off, Aorle returned to Asiona, who would have been eavesdropping if he had cared one whit if there was an audience. When he found her, he noted Mavelle's absence and thus could be fully direct without embarrassing her. It was obvious that Mavelle's claimed reason for bringing Asiona was a pretense, as it was obvious that she did not need a reason to see him or to introduce him to her friends. So she had something in mind, which apparently involved questions, which implied that she was after answers.
Leading her out of earshot of the sentries. "Forgive the delay. Lady Asiona, shall we discuss what Lady Mavelle really wishes for you to find out from me?"
My faith protects me, my kevlar helps.
-
Asiona & Lateus
- Citizen
- Posts: 79
- Joined: Tue Jan 30, 2007 3:51 am
Asiona's eyebrows rose as Railtus was leaving the room. She shot a glance at the worried Mavelle before her friend departed. Left alone in the garden, the girl made an impulsive decision to follow Railtus to see what he was up to. After all, she was charged to do so by Mavelle, and this seemed like something she shouldn't miss. What could three warriors want with Railtus?
She sprinted lightly through the hallways until she reached the majestic front entrance, where she found Railtus. She saw him standing in the doorway, looking brilliant. In front of him were, as stated, three warriors. They were unlike any warriors she had ever seen and at the sight of them anxiety and fear gripped her. Gulping, she steeled herself and crept forward along the wall until she was within easy earshot. There she hid behind a statue, to which she paid no attention.
Her alarm and confusion grew as she listened to the conversation. It appeared she had arrived too late to hear what was first said, and had no context to base what she now heard on.
"...than for a splendid image," Railtus was saying.
One of the warriors said, "I like him already."
Another said, "As a war leader you're about due for a war name as well."
Asiona mouthed 'war leader' silently, in shock. What did that mean? Who was he going to war against? Did Mavelle make any mention of that?
His next words clarified that somewhat. Yet, it confused her even more: she did not know what an Angelsworn was. She supposed it was a holy profession of some sort because he said he could heal and read evil. This troubled her, thinking of Lateus.
More new facts emerged: he had a dwarf, and the orc she knew about. It was like he was gathering all different types of people he could. But for what? 'Protecting the innocent' would be that they wouldn't harm women and children, but that didn't cover other soldiers. What was he planning? What was he?
A Duskling she had heard references to in books of exotic creatures and fae, but beyond that she had no idea what it was. This was getting even more and more bizarre.
More importantly, it appeared he was establishing a base in this very city in the Industrial District. She followed his directions in her mind, memorizing it as best she could, and resolved to go there and see what he was up to, further. Adrenaline was pumping through her already at what she percieved to be a threatening situation.
Lost in thought, she missed when the fighters turned seperate ways, Railtus coming back inside and heading right for her. She jumped out from her hiding place and tried to look innocent, but it was hard to hide the fear. She gulped and smoothed her dress down with shaking hands.
Of all the things he said could say next, questioning what Mavelle had asked of her was not one of them. He really had insight into people and knew their plan right away. That scared her even more. Summoning what courage she had, she held her head up defiantly and said, "I'm not sure what you mean. She just--" As she spoke she met his eyes. A pang of pain and fear shot through her and she gasped. The girl recognized immediately that it did not come from her, but Lateus who was looking through her eyes. He had been listening in from the moment she had begun to feel fear, but at seeing a divine enemy he fled her consciousness, and was gone. His now-familiar prescence disappeared, leaving her even more shaken.
She pointed at him. "You! What are you planning? Trying to take over Thar Shaddin?" she accused, her voice an octave higher than normal. "Meeting more recruits for your army right here, on Mavelle's doorstep, and she trusted you!" Her hand was shaking at it pointed at him, so she clutched it back to her chest. Just a moment ago she had no intention of blaming anything on him, but the incident with Lateus had made her do it, covering up Lateus' pain. If he could sense people's hearts, would he know she had two spirits inside her?
She sprinted lightly through the hallways until she reached the majestic front entrance, where she found Railtus. She saw him standing in the doorway, looking brilliant. In front of him were, as stated, three warriors. They were unlike any warriors she had ever seen and at the sight of them anxiety and fear gripped her. Gulping, she steeled herself and crept forward along the wall until she was within easy earshot. There she hid behind a statue, to which she paid no attention.
Her alarm and confusion grew as she listened to the conversation. It appeared she had arrived too late to hear what was first said, and had no context to base what she now heard on.
"...than for a splendid image," Railtus was saying.
One of the warriors said, "I like him already."
Another said, "As a war leader you're about due for a war name as well."
Asiona mouthed 'war leader' silently, in shock. What did that mean? Who was he going to war against? Did Mavelle make any mention of that?
His next words clarified that somewhat. Yet, it confused her even more: she did not know what an Angelsworn was. She supposed it was a holy profession of some sort because he said he could heal and read evil. This troubled her, thinking of Lateus.
More new facts emerged: he had a dwarf, and the orc she knew about. It was like he was gathering all different types of people he could. But for what? 'Protecting the innocent' would be that they wouldn't harm women and children, but that didn't cover other soldiers. What was he planning? What was he?
A Duskling she had heard references to in books of exotic creatures and fae, but beyond that she had no idea what it was. This was getting even more and more bizarre.
More importantly, it appeared he was establishing a base in this very city in the Industrial District. She followed his directions in her mind, memorizing it as best she could, and resolved to go there and see what he was up to, further. Adrenaline was pumping through her already at what she percieved to be a threatening situation.
Lost in thought, she missed when the fighters turned seperate ways, Railtus coming back inside and heading right for her. She jumped out from her hiding place and tried to look innocent, but it was hard to hide the fear. She gulped and smoothed her dress down with shaking hands.
Of all the things he said could say next, questioning what Mavelle had asked of her was not one of them. He really had insight into people and knew their plan right away. That scared her even more. Summoning what courage she had, she held her head up defiantly and said, "I'm not sure what you mean. She just--" As she spoke she met his eyes. A pang of pain and fear shot through her and she gasped. The girl recognized immediately that it did not come from her, but Lateus who was looking through her eyes. He had been listening in from the moment she had begun to feel fear, but at seeing a divine enemy he fled her consciousness, and was gone. His now-familiar prescence disappeared, leaving her even more shaken.
She pointed at him. "You! What are you planning? Trying to take over Thar Shaddin?" she accused, her voice an octave higher than normal. "Meeting more recruits for your army right here, on Mavelle's doorstep, and she trusted you!" Her hand was shaking at it pointed at him, so she clutched it back to her chest. Just a moment ago she had no intention of blaming anything on him, but the incident with Lateus had made her do it, covering up Lateus' pain. If he could sense people's hearts, would he know she had two spirits inside her?
-
Sir Karsimir
- Citizen
- Posts: 714
- Joined: Wed Jan 10, 2007 8:12 pm
- Name: Karsimir Von Greyssen
- Race: Reichvolk human
Few things were more revealing than the effort to hide a secret. Had Asiona simply brushed off the gasp and continued, the chevalier would have thought little of it. Instead, she had burst out with a staggeringly illogical attack, condemning him for keeping a secret that he had in fact openly declared in front of both Mavelle and Asiona.
It was obvious that she was hiding something. Probably an ulterior motive of some kind. Trying to force him on the defensive was her attempt to throw off his discovery.
"Trusted me enough to send you hiding behind statues to watch me?" he laughed, mildly entertained by the absurdity of her accusations. "When I was meeting warriors that I had just finished speaking of to both Mavelle and yourself? Try a better deceit, Asiona." Shaking his head, he almost seemed to be inviting her to create another lie for him to pierce.
Of course, leaving her questions unanswered would only allow her an excuse to suggest worse things. "My plans are to earn a knighthood, which, shockingly enough, involves success in battle." Highlighting the obvious nature of the fact would make it more difficult to turn into something sinister, so despite his sardonic amusement his voice was open, as if simply explaining rather than mocking. "There are robbers in the surrounding region to fight. Those lands must be made safe, and I intend to be worthy of a knighthood for when I am free to return home." Surely she would know of the robber gangs beyond the city? It was common knowledge in Marn.
Touching the subject of returning home made him wonder. Was that what he really wanted? Already he was finding a sense of purpose and forming ties here, such as with Julen, and providing safe haven for refugees from the crime-ridden shantytown. Gaining a knighthood, however, would require journeying there for the ceremony, the knight's vigil and accolade.
He certainly wished to take that journey.
Never one to be dissuaded, he went back to the issue at hand. "You were saying, m'lady? She just what?" After all, she had been busy explaining herself when she shot back with the accusation. "Would you like to finish your pretense or are you ready to speak truth?"
It was obvious that she was hiding something. Probably an ulterior motive of some kind. Trying to force him on the defensive was her attempt to throw off his discovery.
"Trusted me enough to send you hiding behind statues to watch me?" he laughed, mildly entertained by the absurdity of her accusations. "When I was meeting warriors that I had just finished speaking of to both Mavelle and yourself? Try a better deceit, Asiona." Shaking his head, he almost seemed to be inviting her to create another lie for him to pierce.
Of course, leaving her questions unanswered would only allow her an excuse to suggest worse things. "My plans are to earn a knighthood, which, shockingly enough, involves success in battle." Highlighting the obvious nature of the fact would make it more difficult to turn into something sinister, so despite his sardonic amusement his voice was open, as if simply explaining rather than mocking. "There are robbers in the surrounding region to fight. Those lands must be made safe, and I intend to be worthy of a knighthood for when I am free to return home." Surely she would know of the robber gangs beyond the city? It was common knowledge in Marn.
Touching the subject of returning home made him wonder. Was that what he really wanted? Already he was finding a sense of purpose and forming ties here, such as with Julen, and providing safe haven for refugees from the crime-ridden shantytown. Gaining a knighthood, however, would require journeying there for the ceremony, the knight's vigil and accolade.
He certainly wished to take that journey.
Never one to be dissuaded, he went back to the issue at hand. "You were saying, m'lady? She just what?" After all, she had been busy explaining herself when she shot back with the accusation. "Would you like to finish your pretense or are you ready to speak truth?"
My faith protects me, my kevlar helps.
-
Asiona & Lateus
- Citizen
- Posts: 79
- Joined: Tue Jan 30, 2007 3:51 am
"Try a better deceit, Asiona."
Her head sunk. Railtus towered over her, reprimanding with his mild voice. He did not tease her or ridicule her and that made her even more ashamed. Why had she said that? His eyes had not held any anger or deceit.
"There are robbers in the surrounding region to fight. Those lands must be made safe, and I intend to be worthy of a knighthood for when I am free to return home," he continued. She still couldn't meet his gaze. They had been a brilliant green, with an odd tint to them that reminded her of heavenly light. Her face was already heavy with red embarrassment but she would have blushed further at how ridiculous that seemed. The eye contact had been brief so she must have imagined it.
It was true enough that there were robbers that preyed on the often lone travelers entering and exiting the city. Her father talked of them, his frustration at losing imported goods because of them, or making up plans to thwart them from taking further shipments. It was a constant strategic game that she had admired from a very young age, how her father often outsmarted or defeated them. And the little girl had shared his anger when they outsmarted and defeated him. Being rid of them would be a heavy favor for the Petersons, and the rest of Thar Shaddin for that matter. Such a noble ideal was very worth striving for.
"Would you like to finish your pretense or are you ready to speak truth?"
Asiona took a deep breath and let it go. Beads of tears had formed in the corners of her eyes. They shone in the diffused daylight of the hall as she finally mustered the courage to look up. "I'm sorry. I don't know why I said those things. Please forgive me?" she pleaded, tentatively searching his face before meeting his gaze. This time there was only a small thread of fear that came from herself. His eyes were green, but there was something else. Like a hint of gold. Or light.
"As for Mavelle... She wanted me to meet you. She's just...worried about you, that's all." She didn't care to elaborate. She didn't mention that Mavelle was worried not just for him, but also herself and her House. She didn't mention Mavelle was frightened and impassioned by him at the same time. Such things were private and he didn't need to know. And as far as Asiona was concerned, Mavelle was completely justified in feeling that way.
Her head sunk. Railtus towered over her, reprimanding with his mild voice. He did not tease her or ridicule her and that made her even more ashamed. Why had she said that? His eyes had not held any anger or deceit.
"There are robbers in the surrounding region to fight. Those lands must be made safe, and I intend to be worthy of a knighthood for when I am free to return home," he continued. She still couldn't meet his gaze. They had been a brilliant green, with an odd tint to them that reminded her of heavenly light. Her face was already heavy with red embarrassment but she would have blushed further at how ridiculous that seemed. The eye contact had been brief so she must have imagined it.
It was true enough that there were robbers that preyed on the often lone travelers entering and exiting the city. Her father talked of them, his frustration at losing imported goods because of them, or making up plans to thwart them from taking further shipments. It was a constant strategic game that she had admired from a very young age, how her father often outsmarted or defeated them. And the little girl had shared his anger when they outsmarted and defeated him. Being rid of them would be a heavy favor for the Petersons, and the rest of Thar Shaddin for that matter. Such a noble ideal was very worth striving for.
"Would you like to finish your pretense or are you ready to speak truth?"
Asiona took a deep breath and let it go. Beads of tears had formed in the corners of her eyes. They shone in the diffused daylight of the hall as she finally mustered the courage to look up. "I'm sorry. I don't know why I said those things. Please forgive me?" she pleaded, tentatively searching his face before meeting his gaze. This time there was only a small thread of fear that came from herself. His eyes were green, but there was something else. Like a hint of gold. Or light.
"As for Mavelle... She wanted me to meet you. She's just...worried about you, that's all." She didn't care to elaborate. She didn't mention that Mavelle was worried not just for him, but also herself and her House. She didn't mention Mavelle was frightened and impassioned by him at the same time. Such things were private and he didn't need to know. And as far as Asiona was concerned, Mavelle was completely justified in feeling that way.
-
Sir Karsimir
- Citizen
- Posts: 714
- Joined: Wed Jan 10, 2007 8:12 pm
- Name: Karsimir Von Greyssen
- Race: Reichvolk human
What struck him the most was the emotion in the apology. Rash words did not seem so much an issue to his eyes, yet here she was, blushing and even beginning to form tears. That would simply not do. Leaving a girl upset was not in his nature.
"Of course." he had not even bore resentment in the first place, merely irritation. More the sense of frustration from an unwelcome obstacle. "People panic and react. 'T'happens." A demonstration of how little offence had been taken at those past remarks. He smiled gently, to show that there were no hard feelings. "Let us return to the garden, my gear is there."
Laid out neatly on the grass was his war helm, his shield, and his spear. Being out in the garden enabled them to talk with a greater degree of privacy, as well as freeing him to sit down on the grass. With the points and edges of his armour, any chair he were to sit on would have been damaged, so he was clearly more comfortable this way.
"Worried? Then why not approach me openly? Why pretend..." he searched for a way to describe her cover story, not willing to refer to Krarug as 'the orc', "anything at all? Why send you hiding behind statues to eavesdrop on my conversations?" Even with nothing to hide, Aorle felt that spying on him was not an act of concern. Instead of feeling valued, or treasured, or cherished, being the subject of an investigation left him feeling controlled, dominated, as if subject to the whims of another.
It was not a pleasant feeling.
"'Tis not my sake that this is being done for." retorted Aorle darkly. Recently, being near Mavelle had been like walking on eggshells, as if struggling to avert her distress by matching her expectations. In that moment he knew something.
He was not the man she wanted.
Each one wished to please the other, the one thing that neither could do by trying. Yet another personal sacrifice made, and another, and another, with every personal sacrifice leaving that much less for them to share together.
Shaking his head to dispel the dark musings, he invited her questions, "There is something Mavelle wishes for you to find out, perhaps because I am not who she expects." Sharing that observation would hopefully enable them to speak of the matter more directly, hiding behind an illusion would merely hinder the discussion. "Very well, Asiona. Ask what you will of me." If it would grant Mavelle peace of mind, then he would tolerate the investigation.
For her sake.
"Of course." he had not even bore resentment in the first place, merely irritation. More the sense of frustration from an unwelcome obstacle. "People panic and react. 'T'happens." A demonstration of how little offence had been taken at those past remarks. He smiled gently, to show that there were no hard feelings. "Let us return to the garden, my gear is there."
Laid out neatly on the grass was his war helm, his shield, and his spear. Being out in the garden enabled them to talk with a greater degree of privacy, as well as freeing him to sit down on the grass. With the points and edges of his armour, any chair he were to sit on would have been damaged, so he was clearly more comfortable this way.
"Worried? Then why not approach me openly? Why pretend..." he searched for a way to describe her cover story, not willing to refer to Krarug as 'the orc', "anything at all? Why send you hiding behind statues to eavesdrop on my conversations?" Even with nothing to hide, Aorle felt that spying on him was not an act of concern. Instead of feeling valued, or treasured, or cherished, being the subject of an investigation left him feeling controlled, dominated, as if subject to the whims of another.
It was not a pleasant feeling.
"'Tis not my sake that this is being done for." retorted Aorle darkly. Recently, being near Mavelle had been like walking on eggshells, as if struggling to avert her distress by matching her expectations. In that moment he knew something.
He was not the man she wanted.
Each one wished to please the other, the one thing that neither could do by trying. Yet another personal sacrifice made, and another, and another, with every personal sacrifice leaving that much less for them to share together.
Shaking his head to dispel the dark musings, he invited her questions, "There is something Mavelle wishes for you to find out, perhaps because I am not who she expects." Sharing that observation would hopefully enable them to speak of the matter more directly, hiding behind an illusion would merely hinder the discussion. "Very well, Asiona. Ask what you will of me." If it would grant Mavelle peace of mind, then he would tolerate the investigation.
For her sake.
My faith protects me, my kevlar helps.
-
Asiona & Lateus
- Citizen
- Posts: 79
- Joined: Tue Jan 30, 2007 3:51 am
Asiona followed Railtus silently to the garden, still feeling sheepish but relieved he hadn't been mad. Was he really a nobleman? None she ever knew would react thus. But she was glad.
When he sat on the grass she didn't want to stand over him, so she hurriedly sat down with her legs to the side. Her dress covered to her knees in this position and she carefully held it there so it wouldn't slip anymore.
Suddenly alarmed at what he spoke, she violently shook her hands and said, "She didn't send me to eavesdrop. I wanted to see what was going on without interrupting." She sighed, realizing how lame an excuse that was.
Suddenly, her mission came back to the forefront of her mind. "Wait, first answer: Do you like Mavelle?" The merchant's daughter sat tall, hands on knees, somber-faced. This was the most serious question in the world to a young girl.
When he sat on the grass she didn't want to stand over him, so she hurriedly sat down with her legs to the side. Her dress covered to her knees in this position and she carefully held it there so it wouldn't slip anymore.
Suddenly alarmed at what he spoke, she violently shook her hands and said, "She didn't send me to eavesdrop. I wanted to see what was going on without interrupting." She sighed, realizing how lame an excuse that was.
Silence descended as she sat in surprise, suddenly speechless. A slight breeze blew through and stirred their hair, Asiona's bouncy blonde curls blowing in her face. Combing it back and subsequently taking a deep breath, the questions suddenly spilled out of her. "Did you really talk to the orc in its own language? Can I see it? What's a Duskling? What's an Angelsworn? When are you attacking the robbers? Why do you want to be a knight?" Then her thoughts turned to her friend, rather than her selfish questions. "Why do you like Mavelle? Are you really going to court her?" Her former deep breath ran out and so she sucked in another deep breath. She gazed at him expectantly and with excitement, not caring which question he answered first."There is something Mavelle wishes for you to find out, perhaps because I am not who she expects. Very well, Asiona. Ask what you will of me."
Suddenly, her mission came back to the forefront of her mind. "Wait, first answer: Do you like Mavelle?" The merchant's daughter sat tall, hands on knees, somber-faced. This was the most serious question in the world to a young girl.
-
Sir Karsimir
- Citizen
- Posts: 714
- Joined: Wed Jan 10, 2007 8:12 pm
- Name: Karsimir Von Greyssen
- Race: Reichvolk human
Stopping to consider the answer to such a question was never a good sign. At least Asiona knew of the matter from Mavelle, and no trust would be broken by speaking to her of it. "If by 'like' you mean think of with fondness and affection, definately." In his mind was the sneaking suspiscion that the word 'like' was a synonym for a deeper and more meaningful commitment, "As for courtship, I believe that the question is how a suitable a match 'twould be." He did not mention that he made the suggestion as an alternative to being 'secret lovers', to spare Mavelle from potential judgements.
"When she mentioned Krarug, did she perchance say how she feared him? Well, orcs are a part of my life. So is magic and war. Things which Mavelle may not wish for her own life." Best to have that fact declared now, a fact which Mavelle seemed to have conveniently ignored so far. In fact, the mention of magic was a conscious decision, in full knowledge of the fear and distrust towards it ingrained among the locals. "Added to that, a feudal estate is much different to the city. A far more rustic lifestyle, it may be too much to ask another to share." These were all realistic concerns, however, they were mentioned with the knowledge that Mavelle would hear of them. Hear, and be dissuaded. If she were to have reasons against the courtship of her own, then the blow might be softened for her when it came to an end. "Anything more than that I am best discussing with Mavelle directly."
The wicked were always surprised to find that the good men can be clever.
"As for your other questions." he began, recalling the interrogative barrage fired at him in the space of one breath, and choosing to respond in kind, "Yes. Not if you call my friend 'it.' A type of fae. Me. Soon. Beats being a courtier. In that order." Of all things, a sense of humour.
Studying Asiona's reaction, he recalled a detail from before. When she made that frantic accusation not long ago, there was no mention of magic, which would have made far better ammunition. In fact, what her curiosity suggested was that she did not fear magic as the rest of Marn did. A detail which he filed away for future reference.
"When she mentioned Krarug, did she perchance say how she feared him? Well, orcs are a part of my life. So is magic and war. Things which Mavelle may not wish for her own life." Best to have that fact declared now, a fact which Mavelle seemed to have conveniently ignored so far. In fact, the mention of magic was a conscious decision, in full knowledge of the fear and distrust towards it ingrained among the locals. "Added to that, a feudal estate is much different to the city. A far more rustic lifestyle, it may be too much to ask another to share." These were all realistic concerns, however, they were mentioned with the knowledge that Mavelle would hear of them. Hear, and be dissuaded. If she were to have reasons against the courtship of her own, then the blow might be softened for her when it came to an end. "Anything more than that I am best discussing with Mavelle directly."
The wicked were always surprised to find that the good men can be clever.
"As for your other questions." he began, recalling the interrogative barrage fired at him in the space of one breath, and choosing to respond in kind, "Yes. Not if you call my friend 'it.' A type of fae. Me. Soon. Beats being a courtier. In that order." Of all things, a sense of humour.
Studying Asiona's reaction, he recalled a detail from before. When she made that frantic accusation not long ago, there was no mention of magic, which would have made far better ammunition. In fact, what her curiosity suggested was that she did not fear magic as the rest of Marn did. A detail which he filed away for future reference.
My faith protects me, my kevlar helps.
-
Asiona & Lateus
- Citizen
- Posts: 79
- Joined: Tue Jan 30, 2007 3:51 am
Asiona smiled pleasantly when she heard he was fond and affectionate of her friend. The hesitation was discarded as just a pause to collect his tact. She knew Mavelle would be glad to hear him say so, no matter how many times it was said.
The girl nodded her head politely as he spoke more. Her friend had indeed feared it, and Asiona had always imagined Mavelle marrying some boring, calm older man, but she would have a younger lover. Or at least a lot of the women in the noble class did that, Mavelle whispered during gossip. The image of Mavelle standing in the heat of a large battlefield bloomed in her mind and she had to stop herself from snorting at how scared she was. Most of all, could she stand to be a soldier's wife, never seeing her beloved until one day only his shield comes home?
Asiona giggled as he responded to her questions in rapid succession, just as she had asked them. She noticed, however, that the explanations were very curbed and didn’t actually tell her anything she didn’t already know. Still smiling, she asked another question. “But what does an Angelsworn do?”
She pushed away her excitement at his unofficial invitation to meet the orc, and most probably the Duskling. It would be rude to urge him to take her, especially since he probably had business he had to attend to. She would just have to wait for a better chance to ask him. In the meantime, she would have to get used to thinking of a creature like an orc as ‘he’ or ‘she’. She didn’t even want to imagine such a thing.
Suddenly there was a surge in her chest that felt like she was falling. Stars appeared before her eyes and she felt faint. The next thing she knew she was bent over with her face in her hands. Nausea swept through her. More importantly she had blacked-out right in front of Railtus! She slowly sat up and blinked in the light. She hadn’t been out for long because Railtus was still where he was before the incident. Just as suddenly power swept through her limbs, surging into her head, elating her.
LATEUS! What did you do? she thought.
Don’t panic, she’s alright
You did not!
Relax, we needed it
Railtus saw, you idiot!
Lateus gazed through her eyes as she did while they argued. They conversation was as fast as thought, and only a scant moment had passed since Asiona had sat up from her dizzy spell.
The girl nodded her head politely as he spoke more. Her friend had indeed feared it, and Asiona had always imagined Mavelle marrying some boring, calm older man, but she would have a younger lover. Or at least a lot of the women in the noble class did that, Mavelle whispered during gossip. The image of Mavelle standing in the heat of a large battlefield bloomed in her mind and she had to stop herself from snorting at how scared she was. Most of all, could she stand to be a soldier's wife, never seeing her beloved until one day only his shield comes home?
Asiona giggled as he responded to her questions in rapid succession, just as she had asked them. She noticed, however, that the explanations were very curbed and didn’t actually tell her anything she didn’t already know. Still smiling, she asked another question. “But what does an Angelsworn do?”
She pushed away her excitement at his unofficial invitation to meet the orc, and most probably the Duskling. It would be rude to urge him to take her, especially since he probably had business he had to attend to. She would just have to wait for a better chance to ask him. In the meantime, she would have to get used to thinking of a creature like an orc as ‘he’ or ‘she’. She didn’t even want to imagine such a thing.
Suddenly there was a surge in her chest that felt like she was falling. Stars appeared before her eyes and she felt faint. The next thing she knew she was bent over with her face in her hands. Nausea swept through her. More importantly she had blacked-out right in front of Railtus! She slowly sat up and blinked in the light. She hadn’t been out for long because Railtus was still where he was before the incident. Just as suddenly power swept through her limbs, surging into her head, elating her.
LATEUS! What did you do? she thought.
Don’t panic, she’s alright
You did not!
Relax, we needed it
Railtus saw, you idiot!
Lateus gazed through her eyes as she did while they argued. They conversation was as fast as thought, and only a scant moment had passed since Asiona had sat up from her dizzy spell.
-
Sir Karsimir
- Citizen
- Posts: 714
- Joined: Wed Jan 10, 2007 8:12 pm
- Name: Karsimir Von Greyssen
- Race: Reichvolk human
On answering this question, there was no hesitation. "Protect the innocent, help those in need, uphold justice, and destroy evil." A truth declared with the utmost certainty. "We strive to do good, we show people strength and courage within themselves that they were never aware of, we blur the line between mortal and angel. We work miracles, some may think of it as magic, by manifesting the virtues we uphold."
Then she fainted.
At that point, Aorle reached for her, hoping to catch her before she struck the ground. However, she appeared to be recovering from whatever it was, which was good. He offered a leather-gauntleted hand to help steady her. Thinking first and foremost for Asiona's welfare, he remembered that her outburst before was equally sudden.
"Asiona. What is happening to you? This is not the first thing to go wrong today."
She certainly wasn't swooning over him.
Then she fainted.
At that point, Aorle reached for her, hoping to catch her before she struck the ground. However, she appeared to be recovering from whatever it was, which was good. He offered a leather-gauntleted hand to help steady her. Thinking first and foremost for Asiona's welfare, he remembered that her outburst before was equally sudden.
"Asiona. What is happening to you? This is not the first thing to go wrong today."
She certainly wasn't swooning over him.
My faith protects me, my kevlar helps.
-
Asiona & Lateus
- Citizen
- Posts: 79
- Joined: Tue Jan 30, 2007 3:51 am
A reassuring hand touched her shoulder, steadying her. She smiled at him, a bitter tone in her face that she did not voice. "I'm alright. Just a little tired today..." Which was a lie. She had thought she felt fine. And now she felt incredibly fine.
She hadn't realized how dull her senses were until this moment. Now the light was brighter, the air fragrant, Railtus' features clear and focused. Lateus' words echoed again through her head--We needed it--and she realized he was completely right. It had gone unnoticed that her body was slowly failing. Lateus’ soul, which needed constant sustenance from other creatures, had been taking her energy slowly but surely. Had she bound something to her soul that she could not sustain? For the first time, she truly questioned what she had summoned to this world. The good nature he had first claimed was coming into question more thoroughly; she had ignored all the signs that he was not something desirable as her companion. He had hurt someone just now, and now she felt better than ever... but was that right?
There would be a time to think later, and she pushed her worries away before they came out in the open. Railtus had a knack for revealing things better left hidden.
Still smiling as best she could with her dark thoughts looming over her mind, Asiona said, "Angelsworn sound like great people. Are there more of you? And... You said you could sense evil? Like... How do you do that?" Was there a tone of worry in her voice?
She hadn't realized how dull her senses were until this moment. Now the light was brighter, the air fragrant, Railtus' features clear and focused. Lateus' words echoed again through her head--We needed it--and she realized he was completely right. It had gone unnoticed that her body was slowly failing. Lateus’ soul, which needed constant sustenance from other creatures, had been taking her energy slowly but surely. Had she bound something to her soul that she could not sustain? For the first time, she truly questioned what she had summoned to this world. The good nature he had first claimed was coming into question more thoroughly; she had ignored all the signs that he was not something desirable as her companion. He had hurt someone just now, and now she felt better than ever... but was that right?
There would be a time to think later, and she pushed her worries away before they came out in the open. Railtus had a knack for revealing things better left hidden.
Still smiling as best she could with her dark thoughts looming over her mind, Asiona said, "Angelsworn sound like great people. Are there more of you? And... You said you could sense evil? Like... How do you do that?" Was there a tone of worry in her voice?