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Seer Sight

As the land of Atamor shivers in the grip of an abnormal winter, people starve in their homes and a rogue seer vanishes into the snow with the blood of the high king on his hands. The seer must die, but first he must be found.......

Tags: adventure, bounty, fantasy, hunt, magic, nordic, rogue, seer, winter

Character Approval: Yes

Player Level: Intermediate

New Players: Open

Creator: enkerzed

Created: 12-27-2013, 05:26 AM

 

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Thread: Seer Sight

  1. Characters in this post:
    News of the kingsmoot had travelled far and was sure to be a very large event, but what brought Vala south to the city of Ulfbrand was her vision of the high king's death at the hands of a rogue seer, which had apparently come to pass. Vala realized she had arrived too late when she heard news of the assassination a day after it happened and a week before arriving in the capital. By then, there were jarls and chieftains arriving from all over Atamor to elect a new king, but it would be a week from now until the day of choosing.

    Vala wasn't going to linger for long in the capital. She was only there to learn what she could to pick up the rogue seer's trail and hopefully be shown the way by one of her visions. Asking questions would be dangerous as all seers were considered to be culpable now, and Vala had already drawn many suspicious glances, having arrived from the north.

    The tavern she was in was filled with the retainers of arriving nobles and some adventurers seeking the bounty on the renegade's head. Jorgen was well liked among the people, so the reward was considerable, enough to buy a kingdom as a matter of fact, but Vala had no interest in it. The rogue simply could not be allowed to run wild, that was it, that was enough... but that was not all.

    Vala double checked to see that the door of her room was closed before lying in bed and closing her eyes to summon a vision. It was night time, so even if someone barged in by accident, it would hopefully not look too suspicious, but the night was still young and it was getting noisy outside.

  2. Characters in this post:
    A trail of boot prints trailed behind Hrotir and Kodral as they stomped through the streets of Ulfbrand. The two remained silent but it was obvious which one was leading. Kodral trailed just slightly behind Hrotir, not enough that he could be called a follower, but just enough that it was obvious that Hrotir was in charge.

    The two came up on a tavern and decided that this would be a good place to start. A look from Hrotir to Kodral initiated the man to thrust the door open and allow Hrotir entrance. His cold icy blue eyes scanned the room. Kodral trailed in behind him and wasted no time in slamming his fist down onto a nearby table.

    "Listen up you lazy louts!" His voice boomed over the normal tavern noises. He always did have a way of silencing a room.

    A few me stood up, as if to pick a fight with Kodral but were interrupted before they could even spout a single drunken word.

    "I am thane Hrotir Ulralderssen, by order of my Jarl Uldric Fenrorsen, I am here to request that any man of the adventurous type join in a man hunt for the rogue seer who slew our great king, Jorgen. Any who is man enough to join me shall not only receive their equal share in bounty for the capture of the rogue, but also, shall receive favor from Jarl Fenrorsen himself. The likes of which shall not be expressed, but believe me, they will be great."

    Hrotir waited for a response from the men but was met with a few blank looks. This was expected for something so suddenly, and so he would elaborate.

    "Nothing but lazy people have been. Our beloved high king Jorgen, murdered, and what progress have I seen about it. A bounty? Is this all? Is money all our king is worth? Is he not worth our time and effort, to hunt this scum down, and bring him to justice?!" Hrotir was yelling at this point, as if to get his point across. "If any of you be true men, true warriors, then you would join me. We will hunt this scab down and bring back his head!"

  3. Characters in this post:
    "Late is the hour in which you have sought out men to go on your 'adventure', Thane Hrotir. It has been some time since Jorgens death, as I understand it.” A man spoke from the corner by the window, who had been quietly listening to Hrotir and watching with great irritation. He shifted only his silver eyes to the two men. In one hand was a mug of beer. The other was resting on the table, lightly thrumming his fingers on the wooden surface. He took a sip, pulling his scarf up momentarily to do so, and then set the pint down. “I can just make out the Jarls strings that pull you in here. Tell me, were you the one that had the idea for this noble quest you have been yelling about?”

    Moon rays highlighted the shabby grey hues of this man's cloak that veiled him from head to toe. A scarf of black linen wrapped around his face, and only those silvery eyes could be seen. The hood was pierced with a slit on each side, to not squish his long pointed ears against his head. This Elf was fair of skin, had a broad build, most likely due to the armor he wore beneath his over dark brown coat and grey-blue cloak. Sitting down, he didn't look as tall as he was if he stood. Six foot one inches to be exact. His age was not decipherable either.

    "Do you always barge into taverns at night to rally 'true' men?" His hand gestured to a few of the many drunken 'men' who stared lazily up at Hrotir. Some even having blind hatred rising up at the words Hrotir spoke, who had basically called them all cowards and slackers. Some shrugging it off and going back to their beer. Others chuckling at what the elf had to say. That Hrotir was like them in a sense. If it wasn’t for his Jarl, he’d be just as lazy as they were, whether or not he would be drunk in a tavern is debatable.

    “Unlike many men here, and yourself, I have already been on the Seers trail.” Now the elf drew some attention from the others who sat closest to him. Easing in on this interesting development. The elf took another draught of beer.

    “You?” A slobbery drunk chuckled. “What does an elf care about Jorgen to seek the killer like that? Hahahahaha!” The elf ignored him, only looking at Hortir.

    “Seems to be that besides myself, you'll find more rats than reliable adventurers in this place…” The elf, finishing his beer, stood up after placing a few coins for the waitress on the table. He walked over to Hrotir and made a kind of nod. “Traveling alone has been slow to progress. Maybe joining you will speed things up.”


  4. Characters in this post:
    Breathe, focus, Vala thought as she tried to call upon the seer sight, but the noise outside of her room was distracting. This was most certainly not like in the north, where she had all the peace and quiet in the world to shed herself of the past and present, but then again, few were the occasions where she would willingly call upon the sight. She never had much use for it anyway.

    All Vala had to concern herself with back in the north was hunting enough meat to feed herself and her fellow seers. The visions would come in her dreams, though sometimes they were merely dreams and it was difficult to tell the two apart, but they never mattered much to Vala. However that was before the assassination. Now that she actually wanted to use the seer sight, the noise of the present was much too intrusive.

    She decided to give it one last attempt before leaving it for another time, and it was on this attempt that the vision came. Snow, it showed. Much and more of it. One didn't need the seer sight to see that. Vala felt a twinge of annoyance, but repressed it lest it disturbed her vision.

    In the present, she was still lying in bed, her eyes open and glowing like the sun, and her hands clutched around the handle of her dagger, using it as a talisman to bind her to the future, or a future (a contentious subject among seers). It was the eyes that revealed her for what she was and it was the same way for all seers, but so long as no one intruded on her privacy, Vala knew she'd be safe.

    The vision went on for some time, showing nothing but snow, snow and more snow. Vala looked for some sort of clue that might lead her to the assassin, but she was beginning to suspect that all the vision was showing her was tomorrow's weather outside of the city. A bad joke. She was about to close her eyes and end the vision until she saw something other than snow.

    It was difficult to see, but easy to identify once spotted. A trail of footprints in the distance, leading to or from the shape of a mountain. Whoever made them was too far away to be seen and the mountain could have been any of the thousands that dotted the land of Atamor, but for one distinguishing feature. A pass through the mountain itself that made it look as though an axe had cleaved it in half.

    There was only one mountain like that in all of Atamor and it was in the north. If those footprints had belonged to the assassin, was it possible that Vala had passed the very man she was looking for on her way to the capital? The vision ended of its own accord and Vala was suddenly back in the present. It had gotten no less noisy while she was using the sight, but at least now she had a lead.

    Vala donned her travelling gear and left the room, intending to leave the city as quickly and quietly as possible. Though the food and air in the tavern was warm, Vala didn't think twice about heading towards the front door. At the very least, she would get away from all the noise and the two people that seemed to be the cause of it, but along the way, she noticed the elf in the cloak and halted in recognition.

    His face was hidden. It might have been effective in concealing his identity from those who didn't know him by sight; after all, there were more than a few elves in Atamor and what was another pointy-eared foreigner? But there was no mistaking this particular elf's silvery eyes. This is the one that failed to protect the king, Vala realized as she remembered the vision that showed the high king's assassination, what brought her to this place.

    Vala looked away lest the elf noticed and continued towards the door, deciding that she only wanted to step outside for a breath of fresh air. The elf's presence changed things. He was there during the king's assassination and he might be able to provide some answers that the visions had failed to deliver. It was then that Vala decided that she wouldn't leave the city just yet.

  5. Characters in this post:
    Who was this stranger that dare speak such words to Hrotir. The fury inside Kodral was boiling over. If he could, he would have his way and take this man behind the tavern to teach him some manners when addressing a Thane. Though he looked to Hrotir for some indication of what he should do he got none. The Thane was too focused in the moment to pay attention to Kodral heated emotions.

    "Big talk, for an elf that has nothing to do in our politics. It matters not who came up with the quest, only who completes it. As treacherous and full of guile you elves are that should be common knowledge to you."

    What arrogance this elf possessed. Though Hrotir shouldn't be surprised, it's just like an elf to be quick of tongue, and yet possess so little mannerisms. He just assumes that he can take a place in the hunt for the seer. What makes him think that after such disrespect he would just be accepted without any question.

    It was then that Vala passed by Hrotir, taking a good look at the elf that he was talking to. As Hrotir turned to see whose presence tainted their conversation she had already turned to continue walking. Something strange about that person threw Hrotir off guard. A prick in the back of his mind, hairs standing on end. He wanted to go after him or her, even just to see who it was. But Kodral's presence interrupted his trance like interest.

    "Reveal your face cunning elf, let us lay eyes on the man who wishes to join our expedition," Kodral spoke to the hooded figure. His hand outreached to pull the hood off, not even waiting for an answer from the man or a motion on his effort.

    Hrotir slapped his house carl's hand away. Even for someone who had shown them so much disrespect, pulling his hood down would be rather rude.

    "We must see your face before we just accept you. Especially after such words of diplomatic skill were spoke, it makes me wonder what your true intentions are. Who you are and what you wish to obtain," Hrotir spoke, changing the direction of the conversation to become more serious and finish it up. He was growing tired of all these games.

  6. Characters in this post:
    It matters not who came up with the quest? Full of guile? Treacherous? Well, despite wanting to mention several more things that could make the man seem more of an arrogant snipe, he brushed off those words that bounced around in his head. He didn't really have the time to want to say it, since he glanced over to see some woman staring at him. He squinted his eyes, wondering if she had given him the kind of expression one uses when seeing someone familiar. Yet, she did not stay long for him to decide if she HAD seen him before.

    Anyway, Kodral's movement to take down his scarf had brought him back to the two, and this hand went to his dagger at his side. It was a reflex of sorts. Cutting off Kodrals hand was not, in his mind, out of the question. If he really did reach the fabric of his face wrap. It was a little amusing to see Hrotir slap away Kodrals reach.

    "Keeping your lapdog in check spared him his hand." The elf said in his calm deep voice, with a hint of gruffness. He looked at the two with a piercing silver stare as he considered their request. "My name is Gerrick. My intensions are to gain a bounty. I wish to obtain a bounty. That shouldn't be too hard for a being of sub-par intelligence to understand, considering you already have such opinions about my race. Guile, was it?" He mused. "My reason could be as simple as "I like shiny things". Now, as for my face. What I look like doesn't change my intensions and I rather keep that to myself." He said, crossing his arms. "Now, you can either accept my help, or not. You're refusal of me might cost you valuable information...Think hard."



  7. Characters in this post:
    Vala shivered as soon as she left the warmth of the tavern and stepped out onto the snow dusted street. It was a winter's cold, a northern cold, and despite being used to it, the seer could feel the chill biting into her bones as if the heavy wool of her cloak wasn't even there.

    Her breaths came out as white smoke in the air and the cobbles were slick with ice. This was typical weather in the north, but here in the capital, close to all the farms along the coast, it should have been spring right now and yet the snows continued to fall, and the moon was a vague suggestion of lighter grey in the dark, misty sky. The stars were all but invisible and the sun fared no better during daytime, almost as weak as distant candlelight at its zenith.

    As Vala stood outside the tavern, pondering her next move in light of her vision and the elf's presence, she caught a few words of the verbal exchange inside and leaned back against the wall to listen.

    Gerrick, was that his name then? Vala made a mental note of it and continued to eavesdrop. She didn't like the tone of his voice, but the other two who were speaking did not sound anymore pleasant. It was her hope that they would be gone by the time she decided on what to do.

  8. Characters in this post:
    From the whispers and snickers in the tavern, it was clear there were few people that thought Hrotir should put any trust into the words of a strange elf who covered his face. This man could be anyone. The long pause between the three men made it clear. No reveal, no joining their venture to hunt the one who murdered the King. Gerrick didn't make it easy for himself, having been so rough tongued with his speech to these men.

    "Very well." Gerrick made a sharp nod. He was honestly hoping the two would just let the issue of his veiled face go. It was true what he said. Maybe a companion or two would help in his journey, but pulling down his scarf wasn't going to happen. "Your loss."

    Gerrick passed them by, not looking back at them. It was no concern of his if they rather let him leave with the information he had. If being an elf with a covered face was the reason why he was refused, then it's too bad for them. Shutting the door behind him, Gerrick was just outside of the tavern. He huffed a little, looking up at the sky, gauging the time. His silver eyes flicked to the side, just noticing Vala. The lady who had given him that strange look.

    "Good day." He said to her, not sure if he really wanted to see that look on her face again. It made him uneasy. At the same time, part of him wanted to make sure she truly didn't know him. "Your name?"

  9. Characters in this post:
    "You wish to keep your anonymity," Vala answered softly, her eyes still turned to the frozen sky. "I would keep mine also... but for what it's worth, I too understand what it's like to be discriminated against."

    All things considered, it was very convenient the elf decided to leave the tavern of his own accord. No one would be able to hear what questions Vala had for him now, but something held her back. Perhaps it was the fear of knowing for certain what she had suspected all along, but even after a whole month, the thought was still bitter in her mind. Even so, she had to know. It was why she was here.

    Brushing away one side of her cloak, Vala revealed the dagger at her belt. "I'm sorry for pressing you like this," she said as she drew the blade from its sheathe. "But..."

    She approached the elf and then held the dagger up in the palms of her hands, showing the obsidian black runes etched into the surface.

    "Do you recognize this pattern?"

  10. Characters in this post:
    Gerrick offered her a side nod, with his head leaning to a tilt to her words. He didn't know this one, so he took her word for it that she understood discrimination. It wasn't so surprising, really. Atmor wasn't the most warmly inviting place for different people to meet. Disdain was never far behind. Besides, it's not like Gerrick didn't think ill of Nords like Hrotir or Kodral. He did.

    "As is your right." Gerrick spoke in response to her own decision not to reveal her name. He leaned against the wall, with his arms crossed. Hands tucked at his sides. It's not as if he was her companion, neither did he wish to be stuck with a woman, in all honesty. So her name, though still curious of it, was left untouched.

    "Hm." Gerrick's brow raised as she maneuvered, shifting around and pulling out that dagger. The movement made his reflexes call to him. His fingers were already touching the hilt of his blade that was hidden in his shirt belt. But as the blade came into view, and that she didn't make a strike, his hands left the position across his chest. Instead, they dropped to his side for a moment.

    Not touching the dagger, Gerrick leaned forward a bit, seeing the runes closely. "Old writing. I suppose." He shrugged a little. A finger glided across the obsidian. "You'll have to ask a linguist, my friend, I am only a hunter." He told her. Those silver eyes of his lingered on the dagger for a moment more, before he stood straight and looked at her in the eyes. "What would you be doing with a dagger like this, I wonder?" He asked. Gerrick crossed his arms again. "And what made you think I would know something about those patterns?"

  11. Characters in this post:
    "Because I know who you are," Vala replied, looking straight into the eyes of the elf. "And if the king slayer is who I think he is, then he would have had a blade like mine. Please understand..."

    Vala paused for a moment, hesitant to say anymore. No one else but her fellow seers knew of what she spoke and there was no telling how the elf or anyone else would react, but if there was any way of pressing on, it had to be done. The vision - and her fears - had to be confirmed.

    Taking a deep breath and steeling herself, Vala continued, "I'm searching for my son."

  12. Characters in this post:
    When she spoke, Gerrick didn't skip a beat. "You know who I am?" He asked in a confused voice. He studied her face for a moment. "You also live in Evania?" It was a small village where the highest export was deer and boar meat- a place of hunters. He shook his head. "I don't think I have seen you before. Maybe I just look like someone you know?" He brushed off her words.

    Gerrick pulled away from the wall. His annoyance that Vala was following him was clear in his voice. "Besides that, what makes you think it's a good idea to wave around a dagger- the same kind you believe killed King Jorgen- in the air where anyone might see it? Not very bright, I must say." His tone was a scolding one, and his glance was just as much. "To brood and blabber about a notorious dagger in a compact city, demonstrates a level of ineptitude, boarding on the imbecilic." He made his sharp statement as they walked further and further away from the tavern. "Neither of which are qualities I enjoy" He let her know. " Who knows who is around to hear your rantings..." He trailed off.

    The crowd faded as they were approaching the front gates. He was not bereft of supplies to survive in the wild. Besides, he only had to be aware as it was still night. Come morning, his wellbeing was out of his hands.

    "And don't go on about your sob story, I don't know you enough to fall for any cheap 'mother seeks her son' mush." He said, glancing back at her once more. "If you think you know who killed the King, then what is stopping you from revealing him and getting the bounty?" He asked.

  13. Characters in this post:
    Vala she sheathed her dagger in sullen silence and followed the elf away from the tavern, who gave a verbal lashing as he went. Perhaps he was no more pleasant than that Hrotir fellow and his brute cohort, but he did have a point about how foolish it was to talk in the open. Even so, had she been her younger and more impulsive self, Vala knew she would have knocked the elf's teeth out.

    As it was, she managed to keep her feelings in check and waited until they were outside the gates before responding, "You chastise me and rightly so, but only you could have seen the blade and in which direction the killer fled before losing him in the snow. Only you can guide me to him and if what I've learned proves to be true, then I must find him before anyone else does. Surely you know what you were facing that night."

    "Send a seer to end a seer. Don't you see? It's the only way it can be done. You can have the money if that is your concern, all I want to know is if the the killer is truly who I think he is."

  14. Characters in this post:
    It was clear to Gerrick that simply walking away wasn't going to work, but as she spoke on, it was also apparent that he couldn't help but be interested in the other details she had to offer. They were far enough from the guards at the gate, and close enough to the cover of trees and the like, that Gerrick felt easy about speaking to her openly here. Still heading Northward, he walked less stiffly and kept his attention on her and the road. The road was lit by tiny lights along the edges, illuminating their path.

    "So, a Seer." He huffed, realizing what was going on here. "And what have you seen? How is it that you have a dagger like the killer? Why must YOU find the man, if it's a man, before anyone else?" He asked her cautiously. "...and I guess, if you are so sure it's me who saw the man run, who do you think I am?"

  15. Characters in this post:
    Vala held up a placating hand as the elf rattled off his questions like a repeating crossbow, one of which had inadvertently answered Vala's question about the killer's identity. So it is true after all.

    "Peace, housecarl, one at a time," Vala replied. "You wish to know my story, I suppose that's fair enough since I already know yours, as much as my visions have revealed anyway."

    Vala closed her eyes and took a deep breath as she gripped the handle of her dagger, summoning the memories, but not the sight. She was practiced well enough to not let that happen by accident.

    The images flashed like glimpses, but left imprints on Vala's mind as she described them, "I saw you and the killer, and I knew what happened, but not when. There were voices shouting of the High King's death, though not from that moment in time. Perhaps later on, but I heard the voices as the assassin looked at you before he fled.

    "You were shocked, it was all done in the same room but so quickly and silently. You were not even aware until you saw the killer's eyes shining in the darkness, bright as flame and silver as starlight."

    Vala opened her eyes and she paused for a moment, her vision blurry as it adjusted to the light of the present again. She looked down at the dagger and moved her hand from the handle to the leather of the sheathe.

    "We seers use totems to call upon the sight. This blade is mine and although I could not see the killer's face nor the weapon he wielded, I think in my heart, I already knew who it was. It's the only explanation for why he could do what he did and use the sight at the same time."

    With a look of defiance, Vala met the elf's eyes again.

    "It is as I said before. It's what I feared for the longest time, but it's true, isn't it? The killer is my son, I gave him the blade and therefore he is my responsibility. I have to be the one to..."

    She gritted her teeth as she realized that she couldn't even say the words: to kill him.

    "It has to be me, do you understand now? Send a seer to end a seer, that's the way it's always been whenever one becomes a danger to us all."

  16. Characters in this post:
    Hearing his old title made Gerrick momentarily look away. A light scowl on set on his face, still walking forward along the road. Garrick pulled in a breath, letting it out slowly as she told him of her vision and then stopped in his tracks, turning to her. It was true, the things she said. These things wouldn't be known by most anyone else but himself. With confirmation of his thoughts in mind, Gerrick had to admit that this one was invaluable to catching the Kingslayer.

    "Your son is our target, then." Gerrick was pretty cold shouldered in general, but even he could tell this wasn't going to be easy for her. Any mother who has even a little bit of love for her children must be in such conflict with the decision she was making. Gerrick huffed, but with a slight sense of empathy. "...if and when the time comes, you have to understand, I have an obligation to my King and to- to those who suspect me of killing him, to take this man down...if you stall, I can't promise I won't do it myself." He studied her face, looking to see what she had to say about that.

    And as if that wasn't enough of a hint, that he was going to track the Kingslayer with her now that he had such an asset in her, Gerrick took the scarf and pulled it down to reveal his face. "I am Cirian of House Aundae." A formal introduction to her new traveling companion. Cirian crossed an arm over his chest as a respectful greeting. One that he would have done in the first place, if they met on better terms.

    Cirian's hair that strayed out of his hood and scarf was as silvery blue as moon rays. The creases at the edge of his eyes hinted to his age, but he didn't seem too old. Those eyes were even more brilliant silver now that the shadows of his scarf were pulled away.

    "What is your name, Seer?" He asked, letting his arms cross again.

  17. Characters in this post:
    "Vala," she replied, lowering her hood in kind. "Will you help me find him then?"

    As she spoke, the noise of steel-shod hooves upon cobblestone sounded in the distance, which drew closer and closer until figures could be seen emerging from the snowy mist.

    They were a band of men lead by an orc, grey of beard, great of stature and commanding of presence. Around his neck he wore the pelt of a wolf, white as frost, which served as the mantle of his heavy woolen cloak.

    A sword hung at his belt, unadorned but for the mark of nobility on its pommel and scabbard, and when he was close enough, Vala saw that his eyes were blue like marbles of ice.

    Though his skin was green as moss and tusks jutted out like spikes from his lower lip, he appeared every bit like a lord of noble bearing, yet anyone who knew him would know that his bearing was anything but noble.

    When he saw Vala and Cirian standing outside the gates, he pulled the reins of his steed - a nut brown draft horse - and stopped beside them, giving a nod of greeting.

    "Cirian," he said, his voice soft but deep as the roots of a mountain. "I can't imagine fate has been kind to you since Jorgen's death. How do you fare?"

  18. Characters in this post:
    "I think we know the answer to that, Vala." Cirian made his reply. The night was drawing on, which Cirian noted by glancing at the waning moon. Before he could urge her to go forth, the presence of Ashnak brought him to attention. On one hand, he wasn't sure if he liked so many people knowing he was there, but Ahsnak was at least trustworthy.

    "Ashnak." Cirian made the common greeting, with his hand across his chest. "It has been-" He thought for a word. "Interesting." Cirian huffed. He knew Vala might not know who this Orc was, or why he knew him. So, taking the liberty, Cirian motioned with his hand. "This is Ashnak, close friend of King Jorgen." And of course. "This is Vala, my traveling companion." He said to him.

    Now that was done with, he looked to Ashnak with curiosity. "How goes it with you, Ashnak?" He asked, coming to stand right next to the Orc, lowering his voice so that Vala couldn't hear. " I go by Gerrick for the night and day. Some secrets are better left unsaid for as long as I can keep them." hinting that the new company Cirian had would be better off hearing less about Cirian that he rather let her know.

  19. Characters in this post:
    Vala immediately regretted giving her name as Cirian introduced her to the orc. She did not want anymore people than necessary to recognize her, much less a friend of the king, and here was the elf freely giving away her identity to such a person.

    With misgivings and all, Vala returned a nod and hoped that no one would pay her any further attention.

    To Ashnak, it was no surprise that Cirian wished to keep his identity hidden. Before arriving, he had heard much talk of the king's assassination and the aftermath, none of which had put the elf in a particularly good light.

    "I understand," Ashnak responded to him. "I've heard all the rumours and gossip about you after what happened, and I'll have you know I don't believe a word of them. You are loyal, this I know.

    "As for me, I must admit I am very unhappy. Though I left my hall the moment news had reached me, I have missed my friend's funeral and now I must cast my voice in the moot to choose his replacement. An impossible task I think, but the decision must be made.

    "Now I see you standing here outside of the city and I don't know if you're coming or going. Will you not be attending the moot? Regardless of what others may think, your voice would still carry weight."

  20. Characters in this post:
    Sympathy for Ashnak missing his friends funeral was in his silvery eyes, but Cirian spared Ashnak his own sorrow of having to be absent from the Kings death ceremony. After all, interrogations on Cirian had to be made. Night and day. He was glad Ashnak trusted that he was innocent. Even if they couldn't prove he had anything to do with the murder, the elf wasn't favored by the law. A thing Cirian was sure might not help him if he went to the moot.

    "I see where you are going with this, Ashnak." Cirian sighed. "But I hardly think that a failure like me would be welcome to them, let alone a possibility of being voted into rulership. I doubt the weight my voice carries is one that ears want to bear."

    This he believed to be very much true. However, Cirian did mention that he felt the moot might be a good place to seek any culprates or associates of the Killer. Maybe who is voted into office is the one who ordered the death? Cirian couldn't deny that at all. But the desire to find the Killer was still heavy on his shoulders.

    "Give me one moment, Ashnak, and I will speak with my friend." Cirian went to Vala's side and told her what Ashnak had asked of him. "But I can't quench the thirst to find the Killer...so I have decided that if you can't wait for me, until the moot is over, would you accept the help of a friend of mine to take my place? She would report to me if I needed any information."


  21. Characters in this post:
    Cirian's words were nauseatingly pessimistic, but Ashnak said nothing as he nodded and waved to show consent of the break in conversation. It was becoming increasingly clear that the elf could use a little reprieve and Ashnak could well sympathize, having also failed to protect someone in the past.

    Vala on the other hand was annoyed with Cirian's request. She said as much when she replied, "That is ridiculous, you don't need to go to the moot for that. We can track him now if you just say which direction you saw him go. If he went south, then he's making for the coast, if north, then north. Even I don't need..."

    Looking askance at the orc, Vala continued in a lower voice, "The sight to know that, and what were you thinking, giving my name to him? How do you know that orc can be trusted? He could be one those who wants to hunt the rest of my kind for what my son did."

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    "I was wary with my name, do you think I would give yours away freely to someone I didn't trust?" He answered her with a question. Cirian left it at that, going on with the more important issues. "Let's say we find your son. Let's say you kill him. What if he dies without giving the information on why he slayed the King? What if the one behind all of this sits in that throne and all our work is for nothing because a tyrant rules over us and maybe even takes our lives through whatever twist of the law he or she can make up? What then?" Cirian put to her.

    The elf shook his head. "It's not ridiculous. If anything, it could spare us some trouble. I don't want to go, in actuality, but I think it is wise. Either I can go with you, if you don't like my comrade, or you can wait with me- in the end, the moot does carry importance." He told her.

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    "Damn you, I didn't come here to play politics," Vala replied irritably. "Look, you may be right, but the further we delay, the harder our mission will be and the longer my fellows would suffer for it. If you must go to the moot, then this is where we'll have to part ways and I would hope your friend proves to be more useful. Either way, it's your decision to make. You already know mine."

    With a swirl of her cloak, Vala turned away and stood some distance aside so Cirian could finish his talk with Ashnak. The sooner this was done with, the sooner the progress of her mission might continue.

    Seeing this, the orc rode forward a pace and said, "Problem with the ladies, Cirian?"

    Vala ignored it entirely, but some of Ashnak's men looked at each other with surprise, having not seen levity from their chief in a long while.

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    "No, you didn't, but neither did I, yet I have to keep responsibility in mind, and common sense." Cirian emphasized the last bit. It irritated him greatly that he had to come to terms with his definite decision to go with Ashnak. When she stepped aside, Cirian huffed a little. Especially when she made that crack about him being only so useful. That really ticked him off.

    The words that Ashnak spoke made his Elvish friend sigh in a way only friends can when they know they are being teased. Cirian cocked a critical brow at Vala and spoke with an air of mocking. "Hardly." He said. "I would first have to have interacted with a lady." Done with his momentary jab, Cirian let out a breath that billowed fog. "Alright, I will go with you Ashnak. Give me a moment to write something out, and I will send Vala to someone who can help her and give me information if I need it."

    Taking out a scrap of paper, Cirian wrote in a language that was not like any Ashnak or Vala would have seen before. Once he was finished, he rolled it and handed it to Vala. "There is a narrow path ahead. Take it until you see a pond. Call out for Nimbus, she will appear if you tell her I sent you." He told her that Nimbus should read the paper and know what has happened so far. "She will do what she can to help you...for the short time we were traveling, I think I can trust you. Fare thee well, Vala, and may your journey prove fruitful."

    Ashnak had no spare horse, so he didn't offer. Cirian favored walking anyway. They weren't far from the gates. The group left Vala, fading into the distance.

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    "And you as well," Vala replied as she took the paper and then walked along the path Cirian had pointed out.

    When she reached the pond, she called out Nimbus's name as instructed and waited by the edge of the water.

    I think I can trust you, the elf had said. How rare it was to hear such words.

    I hope I can trust you too, Vala thought as she pulled her hood up and huddled beneath her cloak against the cold.

    ~~~

    Ashnak lead the way to the stables on his horse at a walking trot, which Cirian's elven legs could easily keep pace with on foot. The men followed in tow, grim and silent as northerners were.

    "So, are you hunting the killer then?" Ashnak asked as they entered the city. "I overheard some of your words and I couldn't help but wonder if we have similar reasons for going to the moot, even when we'd rather not be there."

    Ashnak did not say anymore until they had passed the guards at the gate. When they were out of earshot, the orc continued, "Jorgen was a very trusting man, as you must surely know, but I don't trust some of the other jarls. You see, I am less concerned with finding the assassin than the one who is truly responsible for Jorgen's death."

    The orc had spoken as if it were all mere conversation, but with his next words, his voice dropped a pitch and revealed a glimpse of the deadly anger seething just beneath the surface, "Of course, if I ever found the assassin, I would still break every bone in his body with my bare hands and make him die slow."

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    Blue eyes peered through the dark leaves of the trees that surrounded Vala. The faintest breath of fog slipped out unseen. A rustling of branches here and there made it's own movements disguised. Then, as she stood waiting, a rush of wind was heard beside her. Vala would see the figure perched on a low branch.

    "You call me in the name of Cirian? You must be a friend." she stated. "I am Nimbus, the EbonyClaw" Lifting up her talons, it was revealed that she had battle gloves for her species strapped onto her long fingers. Golden Eagles, as anyone knows, don't need them to survive, but warriors of her kind make this armor. "What business do you have here?"

    =

    "Yes, well, I was hunting the killer." Cirian noted with annoyance. Ashnak would know how much it irritated Cirian not to keep it up.

    Having gotten to the gate, they passed through to the stables that Ashnak and the rest would be placing their horses. Cirian was still beside Ashnak's horse when he dismounted. The Orc was a head taller than Cirian, who was six foot one inches. Their build was very different as well.

    Cirian agreed with Ashnak's words. "Anyone you suspect so far? I don't recall who could have had such a death wish for Jorgen."

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    Vala was startled by the movement and had her hand upon her dagger, but when she saw Nimbus fly out in the pale moonlight and land on a nearby tree branch, she let her hand drop and then bowed in greeting.

    "I did not expect the elf to have a friend such as you," she said. "My name is Vala and I was told to give you this."

    She held out the scrap of paper and made sure to keep eye contact with the Golden Eagle the whole time, for they were a proud and formidable race of creatures, as intelligent as they were fierce. Ever had they been both ally and the bane of warriors across countless battlefields.

    ~~~

    "Yes," Ashnak replied after he dismounted his horse and gave the reins to a stable hand. "Jarl Uldric in particular. I wouldn't put it past him and his pet snake, Hrotir, since they are both very ambitious men."

    "But I can't fault them for ambition alone. Jorgen was such a man himself, he had so many plans... and only a handful of them are even half realized today. Who will continue his work now?"

    Standing outside the stables, Ashnak took a deep breath and looked up at the snow pale sky.

    "I truly fear for the future," he said. "With no clear successor, I think there will be a fight for the throne. I've seen such a thing before."

    Looking back at his men, he continued, "They can say the same. We grew into adulthood during such troubled times, my friends and I."

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    Taking the paper, Nimbus used her talons and her beak to unfurl it. Reading the page, she promptly tore it up afterwards and looked back at Vala with interest. The Eagle retracted her Ebony steel claws, so that they would not harm a thing, and then she hopped closer to Vala.

    "I understand what I have been asked, and I am willing to help." She said. "We can begin to journey North when ever you are ready, Vala. I can scout ahead as we go, but when I walk with you, might I ask a place on your shoulder?"

    =

    "Hrotir and his thug Kodral were in the Inn this night, yelling about finding the Killer. Those men were loud and I almost paired up with them. I've been...a little desperate." And that was not something Cirian liked to admit. "Any help would have done well. But I think I fared better with Vala. I have sent her to Nimbus." He told him. "She should do just fine. I'll get any progress reports."

    "And who will be among those who fight for it, do you think?" Cirian studied Ashnak's face. "I for one would lay down my life for the right King."

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    "Of course," Vala replied. She was not at all concerned about Nimbus's talons due to the chainmail shirt she wore beneath her cloak. Fearsome as those claws may be, they did not have the same effect on steel that they might have on flesh.

    Though if Vala was not wearing armour, she would have said yes anyway. She dared not say no to the eagle.

    "Before I travel though," Vala said. "There is something I should ask. Were you with Cirian on the night of the king's death?"

    ~~~

    Ashnak sighed wearily and said, "A good warrior should rather choose who to live for instead and let me tell you..."

    Facing Cirian, Ashnak clapped a heavy hand on the elf's shoulder and continued, "If there was anyone worthy of that honour, you'd be with him right now instead of hiding your identity in shame. I do not wish to offend, but that is what you feel, isn't it?"

    When Ashnak's men were done stabling their horses, one of them - a lean wolf of a man with a patch over his right eye - approached and said, "Shall I go secure some quarters for us, chief Ashnak?"

    "You do that, Arnolf," the orc replied with a nod.

    As the men left, Ashnak turned to Cirian again and said, "I do not know who the contestants will be, but that is what I am here to find out. I am also hoping that my intuition proves false, but it seldom does. We need to be ready for whatever the results may be.

    "But enough dark prophecies, tell me, who is this Vala woman?"

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    "interesting that you should ask." Nimbus said, fluttering her feathers to hop over to her shoulder. The slight unfolding of her wings hinted to the nine foot span of feathers. Landing on Vala, her grip was strong, but not harmful, and the weight of her twenty seven pounds was set on her. "I was sent to do a small request in the early dawn when this occurred. I was not in the right place at the right time when I should have been. Cirian has lamented on occasion that id I had been there, I could have helped."

    And it wasn't said, but there was an underlying tone that Nimbus felt the request made from her was more than intentional for that particular morning. "I don't question orders. Well, I didn't, until now. From where it came didn't matter, and I did not look upon the name of who had given me that request that morning."

    Nimbus directed Vala with a soft click of her beak, as a gentle finger point in a way, to go further down the pathway. Doing so, they saw a small cottage. Very plain, fitting barely a wood stove and bed.

    "It is still night. And roads are long. If you wish to sleep, you can. I would recommend it. Then we can pack anything of use from here and go in the early morning. or we can go now."

    =

    The elf turned his eyes away for the moment. "Coming from anyone else, I would have dueled them." Cirian said this with a stiff tone. Not to the part that spoke of living, but when Ashnak told him that he was feeling shamed. "Of course I hide. It's difficult to be taken seriously or to speak honestly with people who think I had anything to do with the Kings death. How long do you think Hrotir would have taken before calling for an arrest?"

    Cirian added in his thoughts, 'What do you mean by bringing that up Ashnak?' But instead he said. "Living has proved worse in my eyes, than if I had died for King Jorgen...."

    He was glad that Arnolf cut in, because he wasn't the happiest on this subject. "You can know only so much about someone in your first brief meeting." Cirian answered him. "Vala is a woman who has some good evidence to think that the Killer went North. She is quite determined, and I do think that her opinion on his whereabouts are good to look into. " Cirian wasn't sure if Vala would appreciate certain details, so he went onto another subject. "And who, in your intuition do you think is the man who set up Jorgens murder?" He asked Ashnak, walking slowly out of the stables.

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