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Post by Lord Ainvar Hrothgarsson on Jul 8, 2014 17:13:02 GMT
The midday Sun shone through the open windows of the Sheriff's wing. the air thick with humidity, and the buzzing of large insects that Summer brings to the land. Ainvar entered his quarters, immediately stripping off what he did not need on his body, leaving his trousers, belts, and boots. Scanning the front office, he moved towards his private chambers, and came upon the water basin next to his bed. Oh, that bed. Thick with scratchy straw, he longed for his bed of furs back at Osca. Staring blankly towards the bed, he began to try and remember what the hillfort looked like, brief images.
It had been too many years since he had been home. Slowly exhaling, the Cimbrian grasped the basin, and submerged his head into the cool, fresh water. After a moments pause, he flung his head back, the wet mane that was his hair slung water droplets across the room. Pushing the remaining strands from his face, he found a spot of barren stone floor, untouched by the day's light, and lay his bare back upon it, allowing it's cool surface to embrace him. There, he closed his eyes.
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Post by Fianna Dragonfly on Jul 9, 2014 5:01:30 GMT
Fianna frowned at the closed door's. She knew that Ainvar had not been in the Keep for the night. But she wanted to know what was going on. And she wanted to hear his side of the story. Adoven had a certain bardic flare that was hard to get straight, though she was sure she knew exactly what had happened.
Firming her resolve she pounded hard enough on the door to hear the echos up and down the hall and back through the chambers of the sheriff. That should wake him up even if he were one of the un-dead, Fianna thought to herself smugly. Also, it had slightly hurt her hand and she probably wouldn't be doing something so thoughtless again very soon.
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Post by Lord Ainvar Hrothgarsson on Jul 9, 2014 13:05:58 GMT
Ainvar awoke suddenly from a disturbing dream, he lay motionless on the stone floor. Hearing the knock at the door, he allowed his senses to settle themselves before he brought himself to his feet.
The man grabbed a length of thin leather cord, and tethered his hair into a loose ponytail, mumbling to himself as he approached the threshold. Slowly opening the door, half asleep, he noticed his Regent standing there. Part of himself wanted to close it right back, it was too early in his own personal morning to dwell into politics. He gave his friend a nod, welcoming her inside as he trudged to a fur topped arm chair next to the open window, dropping himself in it.
"I salute you, a free person, Chief Druidess. How may I be of aid to you?.."
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Post by Fianna Dragonfly on Jul 9, 2014 16:17:42 GMT
"Aren't you just the cheery one today, Ainvar?" Fianna replied in a sing-song voice. She came and stood beside Ainvar for a moment taking in his tired appearance for a moment before seating herself nearby. "I am sorry to wake you, but I am just now hearing disturbing rumors of an impending invasion. It is a bit alarming that I have been so preoccupied that I missed so much in the Keep. What is going on, my friend?"
Fianna felt that now was not the time to push the topic of Adoven's broken sword. That would come later, after everything else had been worked out and maybe Ainvar didn't look quite so grumpy.
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Post by Lord Ainvar Hrothgarsson on Jul 9, 2014 16:36:43 GMT
Ainvar yawned, cracked his neck, and reached for his trusty pipe, still half full from the last time he used it. Taking a slender stick from the end table next to him, it lit the end against a candle, igniting the leaf, and inhaled it deep. In a calming sigh, a fragrant plume of smoke escaped his nostrils.
"Aye, Lady Freya came from the west with tidings of war. Her people discovered a map, pointing various warbands enclosing on our lands, and has offered to give us aid in the form of men, and arms."
He puffed softly on his pipe, reviving the ember, and taking in more of the sweet smoke, then exhaled.
"Her people have also, allegedly, intercepted a Drow carrying the emblem of the Dragon. What exactly this may mean, I know not. What I do know, is treachery is thick in the air around the Locks."
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Post by Fianna Dragonfly on Jul 9, 2014 16:45:32 GMT
"Treachery? From within you mean. I only know of a few who would rather support their companies rather than their home land." Fianna leaned back into her chair and crossed her arms over her chest tightly. "I don't like the thought that the people we strive to protect would just as soon knife us in the back as support us in a battle that we did not ask for." Her frown deepened, anger rising in her. "And people who owe us no allegiance sacrifice themselves to protect us. This makes no sense. What is wrong with the Locks that we cannot trust our people of late?"
Fianna relaxed her posture somewhat before she continued, "Lady Freya, I have only met her briefly. Do you know her well enough to know that she is trust worthy to be bringing us such fearful tidings of war and treachery?"
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Post by Lord Ainvar Hrothgarsson on Jul 9, 2014 18:36:59 GMT
Ainvar shook his head, "I speak not of our own people. I speak of the surrounding lands around the Locks. I've heard no words of internal betrayal, Fianna". Ainvar stood, and made his way to the opened window, gazing out onto the farmsteads beyond the city walls.
"There is a devious element inside this spidse øre, but her words I find true enough". Ainvar let out a deep sigh, "if Lady Freya's warnings be true, and there are forces coming down upon our lands, I would much rather take her help with a cautious eye, than to be left with our own devices."
The Cimbrian stared off into the sky, a moment's pause came and went, and he began to speak once more, "I've been having dreams, my sister. Dreams of myself leaving this world, and venturing into the Otherworld. Though my death is not to be a fearful thing, there are still tasks to be done to ensure the safety of the people we were elected to protect, and that of our tribe". Ainvar slowly turned and faced Fianna, a deeply saddened look upon his face "I want to go home. To Osca. This place, with it's stone walls, it's formalities, it is shutting the spirit off from the Gods. The only sanctuary I have is the Grove our ancestors fought to preserve, and to protect. And thus, even it is becoming overrun with steel wielding spidse øre who care not for our traditions, our customs, our way of life, as it has been lived for hundreds of years before us.."
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Post by Fianna Dragonfly on Jul 9, 2014 19:23:21 GMT
Fianna's spirit plummeted at his words. "I would rather see you back in Osca than in the Otherworld, brother. You have lead us longer than any body else since the founding." She was quiet for long moments while just observing Ainvar, her gaze slowly un focusing as her thoughts turned more inward. "The Grove has become a place of many people's traditions with so many settlers. We must always fight to protect it. I have been working towards this and did not realize how much it has changed since the beginning. "
"When will you return to Osca then? After the next elections?" Fianna changed her tone to something lighter. "I will probably be in this Keep over another winter but it doesn't mean you have to suffer the same fate. And who will you be taking with you?" In her head Fianna could still hear Ainvar's words about dreams of leaving this world. It gave hr chills.
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Post by Lord Ainvar Hrothgarsson on Jul 9, 2014 20:18:17 GMT
He cleared his throat, "Most likely. When a new Sheriff is appointed to protect this waterway, I may. But life is fluid, who may know what will come to us, or of us. One may only go with the winds, and see where the Fates decide to drop us. Excuse me.."
Ainvar stepped into his private chambers, closed the door and changed into fresh clothing. He emerged into the main room in a fresh tunic of dark blue, and gold knotwork trim, black trousers in the style of his tribe, and his usual belts. He began to speak as he wiped down his short sword, and sheathed it. And then his dagger.
"Adoven, the eccentric spidse øre who claims love to the Dragon broke our sacred law", He said casually, adjusting his belt to fit right. "I was in a private meeting with our desert guest, discussing what she feels may transpire, and what we both may do to stipend it. Adoven emerged from the darkness, in complete disregard of privacy, and attempted to swear fealty after over hearing that a Drow was found, wearing his House's favor, spying on our lands."
Walking over to his desk, he lifted the heavy iron torc that was his father's. He paused, staring at the piece of metal. Flashes of the battle that slew his father, and rendered him a slave pierced his memory. He placed it around his neck, pushing the iron in to stay secure, resting on his collarbones. Continuing his casual tone, "he brandished a great sword, and offered it to me. I've never understood that tradition. One should never surrender their weapons unless in defeat", Ainvar shrugged, "regardless, the spidse øre brought a weapon of war into the Grove, and as per the laws that the Chief Druid, years before you or I were born, set down, I shattered the blade, and asked mercy upon his spirit. What the Gods do next, I cannot say..."
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Post by Lady Freya Mercades on Jul 9, 2014 20:56:17 GMT
Freya stands in the doorway. Her body rigid and poised as usual. A slight smirk painted across her lips. "Only a fool would bring a sword to holy grounds." She said stepping bare-footed into the sheriffs quarters. "I am not of your kind, but my folk have similar customs. If he is one of your own and could not see why it was justified, perhaps it was the best decision. And Ive heard tales of the anger that can be brought when the gods are...dishonored." She turns to see Fianna, eyes spilling warm greetings. "My dear, your Sheriffs actions were not in vain. In my culture, a spying man in the dark would have been fed to the sandworms. Let alone a....high elf" her ears prick towards the ceiling, her face full of blatant disdain. "I feel that Ainvars actions were rather just if not generous. Let him bleat and cavil. What is a sword to a high elf but a pretty untouched ornament?" Her smirk slides into a wide, jeering grin.
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Post by Fianna Dragonfly on Jul 10, 2014 3:46:18 GMT
"I greet you as a free person, Lady Freya. It is good to see you again." Fianna stood and walked to Freya, a warm smile for the desert elf. They had only met a few times but Fianna was fond of the slight woman. "I suppose I have you to thank for bringing us news in time?"
Fianna turned back to Ainvar but spoke to them both. "It was Adoven's folly to sneak upon a secret meeting, on this I will agree. But his customs differ from ours, and his customs worship the spirit within trees as sacred or something very similar. To him it is confusing why he should not be allowed to being a war weapon among trees. We have never allowed it, and I do not agree to it. But rejecting a person who is, in their own custom, trying to offer friendship and fealty could prove disastrous if we are indeed about to be set upon by all sides. I accepted Adoven's oath and have taken him as my charge and fighter, by doing so dissolving some of his shame. Though his account with the Gods is his to settle."
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Post by Lord Ainvar Hrothgarsson on Jul 10, 2014 4:16:41 GMT
Ainvar's eyes flickered towards Freya as she spoke, not noticing her in the doorway until then, a faint grin drew itself upon his face. "Lady Freya, come in, and shut the door if you would be so kind."
Looking back towards his kinsman, a stern look overcame his expressions, "It is unforgivable none the less. I would not dare enter a holy place f another people and piss upon their customs, Fianna. But of no matter. I defended the Gods as I could when he broke the law. We have more important issues at hand, than the broken ego of a spidse øre that is too high of himself."
Ainvar sunk further back into the chair, "We three must discuss the issue at hand, M'lady, please inform the Regent on all you have told me. I fear I have little skill in the hard if arts, and retelling of a tale is not a strength of mine."
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Post by Lady Freya Mercades on Jul 10, 2014 4:47:23 GMT
Freya nodded, turned to close the heavy wooden door and took her place within the room. Standing evenly between Fianna and Ainvar. She unwraps part of her sari where the map had taken safe storage and unfurls before Fianna. She looks to meet the womans eyes and back downward towards the map in a fluid transition. Her slender sun-stained fingers reach from underneath the shimmering blue cloth of her robe and trace the figures etched in the map as she names them. "The foxes...the mercenaries from the west. The underthings and demons from the east. The soldiers from the south" Her finger circles the figures and finally lands at a dead stop on the etching of the Locks city in the middle. She gives a hardened look towards Fianna. Her eyes gleaming yellow and vigilant. "And your city is the primary target, for what reason, I am not sure. I have sent my scouts on another run to gather any information that they can. But this is the information I have to offer for the time being."
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Post by Fianna Dragonfly on Jul 10, 2014 5:12:23 GMT
Fianna felt her face drain of most color. It was true, or as true as this map could show. "Who or what have we angered to lead to such an invasion of forces?" Reaching out a hand then snatching it back and taking a step away as if the map could physically burn her Fianna thought furiously. "And you found a belt favor of Dragon Hill along with this map piece? I fear that the meaning you are drawing from this map piece is correct, but is it not possible there could be some other hidden meaning to these puzzle pieces?" Fianna looked from Freya to Ainvar and back.
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Post by Lady Freya Mercades on Jul 10, 2014 6:48:47 GMT
The elven woman watched Fianna's hesitance...empathizing with her fearful reaction. Freya heaves a low and heavy sigh as she straightens herself. "My men found this belt favor on a drow that was spotted lurking around the forests on our travels. He seemed to be following us as he tried rather hard to keep himself hidden. There is nothing we have for sure to say that the drow was in fact of the Dragons, but why else would he wear their colors? Their favor?" She shakes her head, eyes closed. "The pieces of this puzzle are a bit broken, my dear. They seem to fit perfectly, but here we are, our heads might as well be on backwards we are so blind to information. I will be awaiting word from my scouts. I hope that their news will help us place things more clearly. But one thing is for sure...they are coming...all of them. And their songs are those of blood." Freya looked between the two humans sitting in front of her wondering how in the world she got here and why she had stayed.
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