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[Loras] Desperate Men
Posted: Thu Jul 16, 2020 9:08 am
by Arlen
35th Day of Searing, 120 AoS
Even a vague call to action was still a call worth answering. After days of static guarding jobs, Arlen was craving something a bit more active. Something where he could get his whole body moving instead of just eyes. His trips to the forests nearby were good and full of surprises. But they were a poor fix for the needy. After spending decades as a convoy caravan, Arlen was missing that action and movement in his life.
And though Loras was full of convoy opportunities, Arlen did not want to take one just yet. So instead in his desperation for change, he picked up an ad that was as far from anything he had seen over the last days as possible whilst still staying within his expertise.
Looking for a skilled swordsman. Details to be discussed in person at Terras manor. Taelian Ela’Rannoch
Curiosity and necessity drove him, transforming wonder into energy that carried him through the town towards the manor.
Arlen weaved his way through the crowds with acquired agility. After all, his tribe’s settlement wasn’t as large as Loras, but Loras was a good size to upgrade his in-crowd walking skills.
Terras manor, Arlen thought as he left the center market behind him with its usual ruckus.
He remembered another meeting a few days prior with a young woman from the estate. Peculiar and fascinating, he still couldn’t quite place his finger on the impressions he got. Perhaps this visit would shed some light on some unspoken questions.
Was he hoping to see her there? Not really. He did not hold onto false hopes nor youthful dreaming. But it was only natural for him to wonder if he was to enter her home which was open to all kinds of folk it seemed.
The wall that separated the manor from the rest of the town was gate-less. Arlen lifted his eyebrows upon realizing that. If the town was to be invaded, they could hardly protect the stronghold. Was that on purpose? Or did the people and lords of Loras grow lax in their inner defences? But then again, when and why the town would be invaded, Arlen did not know. Nor could he figure out by whom. So he shrugged to himself and walked through the arch. Again, it was not the matter at hand that he needed to attend to.
The manor itself rivalled in size homes Arlen had seen in Kalzasi. Throughout his years, he came to understand one thing - the bigger the house, the bigger the man. And this certainly spoke of status.
Does this Taelian person live in here or something? Arlen wondered, trying to recall if it was only the Terras kinship that was caring for the land or another one. Or was it joint? Who knew and so he went on.
The gardens spread around the manor and were well-tended and immaculate. In the heat of the searing sun, the countless flowers filled the air with scents as thick as pumpkin soup. It was different from the smell of nature that Arlen was accustomed.
Yet, his job wasn’t to come and ogle the riches of others either. Or to be awed by a different way of living. No.
Taelian Ela’Rannoch, Arlen thought. That was his target. He could wonder about other things another time. There was a much more pressing question rising inside his mind.
Now that he arrived to the manor...where would one find a man one had never seen in a place one had never been?
Re: [Loras] Desperate Men
Posted: Thu Aug 06, 2020 11:05 am
by Taelian Edevane
"Taelian," Eleanor called on him through the hall, before stepping into the space of the small office he'd been designated. Pressing the tip of his pen into the small parchment before him, he nibbled on his lower lip in half-frustration, the woman appearing before him.
"Yes?" he questioned.
"Over Eikaeus and Thioras, my intelligence speaks of another sixteen missing in Kamdin. The issue is -- in fact -- escalating. The area around the North Docks has become something of a no-man's land -- there are... there appears to be raving bands of Botchlings that patrol in the night. There are more dead than just those missing; regular civilians have had small clumps of their peers' remains, though no one can identify who is who. It is evidently Dranoch."
The Knight frowned. It had gotten bad. "The infestation is becoming egregious, then," the mage remarked.
"It is."
"A few more years and it will be like Silfanore. Eleanor -- we can't let that happen. We need to strike Westweald soon."
"I see you've been posting bounties and requests; seeking out soldiers. Is this why? You are worried of the urgency?" Eleanor questioned.
"Yes," he nodded. "I don't want Atinaw to become another Sil-Elaine. I know it's unlikely -- it doesn't have the power vacuum we had, nor the recent impact of the Sundering making the land nearly unlivable, nor so many other issues like our aristocracy contracting with a Mist Lord to betray us from within. But it has vulnerability; a southern warfront with the Imperium, a populace less educated than ours was at the time. Superstition and paranoia will spread rapidly as the threat expands in Kamdin. At best it could upset the balance of power in Ailizane -- at worst, they will feed into the army of the Court of Dusk. Either way it goes against our mission here."
"And your personal ideology," she added cynically. Taelian frowned.
"All of this is for our personal ideology," he rebutted. "Why do you think we're still serving the Remedy, thousands of miles away? Our beliefs. I don't want the people of Atinaw to suffer the same fate as our people at home. You know what a grim life that is -- it should be our mission that no one must face it. Even humans, even out here."
- - -
Hours passed. The man had finished writing his letters to Eloise, to the Finla of Grimholdt, and the Finla of Kamdin. Each one took considerable time to write, as attempting to write in Kokalath remained difficult for him, and he had to consult some of the books upon his desk for each meticulous detail of grammar, conjugation, and even the words as they related to others. His thin grasp had expanded over the last season, but he was still a rough speaker, prone to accident. He would need someone to look over his letters later to ensure they were written correctly, regardless of his own research.
Taelian stood from his seat and stepped towards the window behind him, looking out through the glass. Beyond the walls of Loras were mostly farmlands, leading up through the road that connected the small town to its much greater neighbor north. It was hundreds of miles away, though. This meager place, as important as it had become in the recent hunt, meant nothing -- or next to it. It was a humble launching pad, and even then it had been difficult to... manage. Milana was crudely defiant and disbelieving of him in the beginning; even now he questioned her and her motives. And the place had already been infiltrated by enemies, some of which probably still remained.
He did not have the ability to manage the infestation of each and every town as it was; even handling one had been an arduous measure, during which time the infestation only grew elsewhere. They needed to cut the head off the beast, and he knew that. Eleanor knew that. It was why she was focusing on Kamdin now, and one particular woman. Helena Flowers.
The Siltori wore simple, sleek black garbs, largely form-fitting with a silver breastplate over his chest, and shoulders. It was a very Siltori style, fit for one of their old aristocrats. The Knight had finally begun to fill the shoes of what Eloise had wanted for him, and he felt it. As he clasped his hands together from behind his back, another woman entered the room, a maid who curtsied in greeting.
"Ser Rannoch, a man appears to be here, searching for you. Shall I bring him here?" she asked.
"That would be lovely. Thank you, miss."
"Of course," she replied, making haste down the stairs as she held the railing, before stepping towards Arlen and beseeching him to follow her.
Re: [Loras] Desperate Men
Posted: Mon Aug 10, 2020 2:44 pm
by Arlen
Arlen walked around the grounds. He was looking for the old man from his previous visit, hoping that he knew where this man was residing in the manor. But this time, luck was not on his side, at least not straight away. The old man did not magically appear to whisk him away into a room inside the manor for a meeting.
Last time, he arrived dressed part in armour, part in his tribal dress. But then, he was not looking for a job with the description 'skilled swordsman'. However, this time, much like the last, Arlen made sure that he was dressed corresponding to the occasion, despite his limited wardrobe. He wore bracers, white shirt, breeches, boots and his trusted Jastai marked sword at his hip. His shirt was open at the top but it did not reveal the lighting-like golden streak that split his chest from left shoulder to the lower right side of the rib cage. It did not even hint on the gem studded into his skin at the bottom of his sternum. The gentle breeze played freely with his clothes.
It was then as he was passing by the main entrance, considering to enter, that he was approached by a young maid, asking for his purpose to visit. Hoping that his wandering did not look hopeless or aimless, he shared it with her.
It wasn't long and she returned to take him to the man he was looking for. And so back in the manor he went. This time, he was welcomed with the buzz of people who took refuge inside from the heat of the Searing sun. Indeed much was different during the day in Loras than at night and one could almost believe that these people did not have a worry in the world. Almost...
“Right this way,” the maid said and directed him towards a set of door which was different to the ones that led to Milana’s sitting room.
Good, Arlen thought with a sense of relief.
The maid announced Arlen’s arrival and then retreated out of the room. He was now faced with his potential employer.
“Sir Ela’Rannoch?” Arlen asked, inclining his head somewhat. The top section of his hair was pulled from his face and secured at the back of his head to hide the tips of his Hytori ears. As such, he likely appeared like a regular human to the outside world.
The man he was looking at appeared youthful, but of station. What station, Arlen did not know and his senses did not tell him yet whether that would be relevant. Moreover, the man was not going to play a guess game with himself given that he appeared to be in his late 30s despite his real age.
So he straightened his back and continued to look at the man in front of him with levelled gaze. “I believe you are looking for a swordsman."