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Paths travelled, lost and anew.; A tale of new lives in Athesia.
Topic Started: 10 Aug 2013, 04:51 (441 Views)
Dargan Drosilan
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Declan Doyle
A Tale of new Lives.

It had been 6 months since the fire at La Frasca. The rebuilding relief and search teams had finally finished and Kel'shaz Lakhar was still unaccounted for. Dargan stood looming in the large study at Fuego manor. He'd begun to grow accustomed to the warmer climate and parchment of the books. It was a peaceful place. He had been holding many meetings over the last few months, both here in his wife's ancestral home Barbis Castle and at Fengar keep in the mountains. He wasn't sure which study he preferred, this or the harsher stone of his office in the prison. He mused for a while, procrastinating slightly and allowing his thought s to distract him from the reams of decisions that lay on his desk awaiting his mark.

The sunset glowed through the windows, pouring amber around the room. The wind played with the orchard and a sublime peace conflicted with the turmoil of the day. The morning had brought hard tidings. Several heroes of Athesia and Close friends had seen Dargan to discuss the Kel'shaz situation but the day had started with a discussion of tactics...

“I know it would work,” Merric stated firmly

“I'm not arguing about whether it would work or not,” Dargan retorted, “I'm saying we can't resort to genocide of our enemies.”

“It's not genocide. All those that can swim will be fine and the tunnels will be clear. It will only destroy their offensive capabilities.”

“We can't just flood the under mountain-”

“We can,” Merric interrupted “We have more than enough man power to dig a tunnel through the cave walls, it's already below sea level and -”

“I know that we could,” Dargan interrupted back “But we should not and cannot morally.”

“You're not listening,” Merric voice began to raise “We can't afford to allow such a threat to sit underneath and effectively within our borders. It would be a death sentence.”

Dargan's voice rose to match Merric's “You're not listening, If we attempted to wipe out the duregar out let alone like this we would be no better than the savages that already beat at our walls.”

“We can't let them live, it's too dangerous.” Merric shouted.

“What is this about Merric?” Dargan bellowed. The halfling started and the sound of a guard dropping a weapon outside the heavy wooden doors filled the brief silence.
“I've never seen you so adamant about something so serious.” Dargan returned to his normal friendly tone “What is this about?”

Merric thought for a moment. “It's Kiya,” he replied. “With Kiya's death we sit with a power vacuum and unless we can deal with all the threats on our immediate borders we can't present a front against...” Merric trailed off.

“Whom are we against Merric?” Dargan asked, his brow had furrowed, casting deep shadows over his eyes.

Merric had grown accustomed to Dargan's temperament and tones over several years of comradeship and hardship, he knew it to be a look of worry rather than a look of anger. He paused and answered diplomatically. “We can't expect to be friends with everyone considered powerful. I know well that you plan to make many strong alliances and try to build in Kiya's stead but as he was you are, but one man. There will be those that oppose you due to your strength and due to your alliances. Most of that opposition will not be different to what we've seen before but you must be prepared. You've only been a lord for a few months. Your wife is very knowledgeable don't mistake me but we have some very powerful and experienced players who may not want to share as readily as you. You must also think of the nations, they are five for a reason. You may wish to bring them together culturally and economically but that is far easier said than done and there will be many people, many common people who will oppose such action should they see it coming.”

“What then are you suggesting? Genocide to solve a problem?” Dargan's brow furrowed deeper.

“That... is a hasty plan.” Merric admitted. “I still feel it is a viable one but perhaps as a last resort. But know this; I do not seek war against those we need not wage, but I do need you to be prepared for it and to do that we will need to do to free our borders.”

“Aye, thanks friend. I'll gird my heart and bear it. Now I believe that we have some news regarding the scouts that were sent.”

“Indeed we do.” Merric walked over to the huge doors and rapped hard against the dark glossy surface. They opened smoothly but with the groan of wise old wood. A guard peered around the door sheepishly. “You need to clean up that sloppy grip.” Merric chided, “You are to report to the drill sergeant for proper training, Understand?” The guard's head bobbed and he quick stepped away he face a light scarlet. The other guard saluted sharply. “Sir the councilmen have arrived.” Dargan waved that they be shown in and several people filed into the room.

There were three men and a large wolf. One was tall very hairy and armoured in hide and leather carrying a great spear, the second was robed and wore and antlered hood made of bracken and briar the last was another tall man this one in cloth armour covering dark skin a huge two handed sword across his back. Dargan smiled broadly at the assembled men, welcome friends each and all. He grasped each man at the elbow as was mountain tradition and proffered a hand to the wolf who graciously offer a head for a tussle. “Havwarlen, Archdruid Swirl, Salthazar and mighty Tarveg. Thank you all for your efforts thus far, please what news of our lost Brother?” Dargan steeped back into the study gesturing towards chairs that had been laid around a vast square map table.

Swirl gratefully reclined in a sedate arm chair. Havwarlen crouched down next to Tarveg who had adopted a place near the window in the light. Salthazar proudly waved a hand and stood to one side of the table wisely surveying the lands that were scribed there. The men took a moment to comfort them selves comfortably. Havwarlen was the first to speak. “I'm a good tracker, Tarveg is brilliant. We did what we could but desert sand is too much like water, it doesn't hold a sent and tracks melt away. I'm afraid we lost him.” Dargan nodded stiffly his brows clouding once more.

Swirl reported next. “From what I could glean from Krunk, the desert has risen in wild necromancers. There were many 'blacky robey sticky guys' and 'swordy preachy black stuff guys' to contend with. Krunk however seems to have come down with rather severe heatstroke, he got excited with the 'swordy guys' and severely dehydrated himself.”

“I hope he recovers swiftly.” Dargan said curtly turning to Salthazar.

“He has yet to unite with a caravan or settlement. Though...” Salthazar searched his thoughts for the correct phrasing. “It is... after...” Dargan raised a hand.

“You don't need to-”

Salthazar cleared his throat regaining composure. “The desert, she tends to claim her own. He did survive her dusty ocean once, but after almost six months alone? There is a tale that the first sands of the desert were from the bones of its kings, they believed themselves as gods and many were. When the waters fled they commanded return. One by one the people were swallowed by drought and the kings stood in the wind calling for the rains. They never came. And as the winds blew they scattered the kings that had become dried bone. Those remains became the fine dust of the desert sands. The people of the past kings are drawn back now to drink from the ever growing red seas of the wastes.”

The room was harrowed to silence for a while. The summer wind played coyly against the sombre atmosphere. After a while Dargan addressed the heroes before him. “If we cannot find him, he does not want to be found. I must believe that he persists, and fights and survives. One day, we will see him again.” The men agreed and a solemn toast was held to Kel'shaz Lakhar lost brother and to Sorma Lakhar lost sister. The men toasted well into the afternoon, regaling each other with tales and exploits of absent friends and generally warming the cockles of each others hearts. The man mountain had eventually ushered the men and wolf on their now slightly merry way, excusing with a grin and explaining his heap of paper work to attend. His friends all teased his newly found desk job and joked and jested their ways home. Dargan stood still. He listened to the foot falls and cheer. He let them leave his senses.

He plodded to his desk and brought out a new sheaf of paper. He sat and began to write a letter.

Ishaq Nkosi,

A warrior has lost his path. A brave and honourable man Kel'shaz Lakhar has been consumed by grief. We have done what we can but I fear he has been claimed by the desert. I humbly request that you keep and eye on a forlorn warrior, that he may not besmirch his honour on his quest for himself. I would go myself but sadly he is beyond my reach. I hope to see you soon at the up coming desert cup I will be there myself this year as a contestant and we shall see who has the better stamina play. I hope the sands find you well.

Dargan Drosilan



He rolled the letter tight and sealed it with twine. He stood once more to hand the letter to a footman who rushed it to the aviary.

Then he was alone.

He let the shadows become long and thin as he pondered. Much weighed on his mind. A great pain had settled squarely across his shoulders. There were many good friends and comrades he had made in the council of Athesia. He had fought and laughed with many a man and woman. His life had been bleak at times. But now it was lush, full of life and laughter. His brows had carved a trench up his forehead. He couldn't think why, why had this loss hit so hard? He wondered at the loss and allowed the summer evening to fuel his fugue.

He had not noticed her come in. Her gentle tread through the carpet was almost silent. She stopped a few feet a way to watch her husband think. She could see his pain and stress wound in the bunching of his shoulders. Great gnarled knots had formed where the worry grated most. She mused quietly to herself and allowed a smile to creep across her dusky cheeks. She thought back to almost a year earlier. She sat in this very study, she helped her father with the great mounds of paperwork, though smaller than they are now. She had begun to grow jaded. Annoyed at the world and in particular to the lords of Athesia. She understood that they were busy men and that their work was on a far greater scale then their province but this was insulting.

“How can we respect their silence at this stage father,” she asked sharply “They can't hold the offer we proposed in limbo like this, it's been nearly two years.”

“Elbreth, my little Raven. It's not like you to grow impatient.” said Baron Fuego, not looking up from the papers.

“It isn't about patience it's about decency. I'm not getting younger and if I'm to protect our people from the other lords of the plains we will need a stronger backing and a strong family line. This feeble claim of protection that Athesia has given us isn't going to help much.” Elbreth argued. “they can't just ignore us.”

“They can and may well do just that. I believe they believe in this alliance of theirs and it's an impressive goal to be sure. But we are a small box on a map to them. I'd be surprised if anyone took enough interest to come back here. We may have to see if we can marry you to one of the houses of the plains.”

“Don't you even joke. I'm far too old for the tastes of many of these foolhardy lords and those that would have me would crush these lands beneath their petty squabbles. Father, I am gravely worried for our futures I don't know how much more we can do. Orrek's shelters are amazing. But I'm not sure it's enough.” She walked round behind her father and hugged his shoulders tightly. He squeezed her arms back affectionately. “I know it's getting harder for you father.” she said quietly “I don't want to-”

She was cut off by a solid knock on the heavy doors. A footman came in with a letter. It was written on soft hide and had been sealed with a leather pin in the shape of a hammer. The footman handed it ceremoniously to the baron who unfolded it and began to read.

Baron Melbre Centa Fuego,

My name is Dargan Drosilan. I am a recently realised lord who is allied with Athesia. I have been a general and warden of a vast prison keep in the mountains. I heard from some of the fellow councilman that there was an offer that you had made that no one had claimed. When I asked why anyone could turn down such a thing I was shocked to find it mostly a lack of interest. I've heard tales of your daughter from a comrade in arms, a dwarven scholar of the plains by the name of Arianna Thistledown. I've been told of the Green Raven and her sharp mind and broad heart and I wish to meet her. I have been told that it is customary for this sort of thing to be discussed with the father, though I'm not sure I can see why. Up in the mountains it's so much easier to just tell people what you think.

Point being I'd like to take you up on your offer, though if I can't be the kind of man your daughter would respect the I wouldn't want to waste your time.

I eagerly await your response.

Chief Warden Dargan Drosilan

PS: I have also heard that you live as if not worse than your people, as a token of respect I've sent 10 wagons of furs and cured meats, a token of appreciation from the mountains.

“A god-curser?” Asked Elbreth, “What do we know about him?”

“Well you know what mountain tales are like. They start off small around a fire but get bigger with each horn of ale. Though I've heard he was a great warrior and lead many victories over Athesian enemies in battle. I've also heard that he built Fengar keep by himself in only a few years. Though I imagine that he's just a soldier who's gotten too old or tired to fight and has decided to start marshalling land instead of men.” The Baron said. “Mountain men are said to be particularly fierce and uncouth, I'm not sure how good he would be at governing.”

“Well I didn't think that the mountains had universal laws and if in that climate he has built and maintained a prison then perhaps he is more organised then you give him credit for.”

“Perhaps indeed, oh I've also heard that he has something to do with this new sport 'croquet' that so many people seem to be embracing, lord Santiago is apparently hosting some kind of tournament soon.”

“Well he is the best hope we have of forging a strong relationship with Athesia and therefore the only way we will survive.”

Her father looked at her slightly sadly. “I know it is our duty, I know you are fully prepared for it and have been since you were of age but I am sill sorry.”

“What ever for?” Elbreth said confused.

“That you must marry for the good of our people and not the good of your heart.” His shoulders had fallen and he sighed heavily. She gave those shoulders another loving squeeze.

“There are many things in this life that are more important than love. I will marry him for the good of our lands.”

It was only a week before they could meet. The baron had replied swiftly and Dargan had made the journey on the back of his wyvern Sirrah. Elbreth had watched as the creature flew in from the north a black v in the sky growing large but not a big as she'd thought. She walked out to the courtyard where the scaly beast had landed. She realised that it was much larger than it had looked. As It's rider dismounted she could see that he was the reason for the optical trick, he was a goliath. She had expected a large muscle bound warrior, but not a goliath. He towered over the guards and the stable master who was being crash briefed in how to handle a wyvern. She was suddenly nervous, she was going to marry this man and all that that entailed. He had handed the reigns over to the stable master and he jovially clapped a hand on the man's shoulders that was bigger than his head. Though the man barely stumbled. Dargan reached up to the beast and gently tickled along it's jaw line, it's eyes rolled in pleasure and he fed it a strip of meat. He handed the stable master some more of the meat and let him lead the wyvern away.

He began to stride over towards Her father who was waiting to greet the man. A flash of worry and mild fear flew through her when he got close enough to bow in greeting and then grip her father by the elbow. He was taller than her father by a clear two feet and must have been almost twice his weight. She almost regretted agreeing to marry him. He and her father exchanged pleasant greeting and then she was signalled to be introduced. She stepped forward and curtsied. The Goliath seemed taken aback by the move. “Now that's a new one on me,” He boomed, his accent reminded her on the Hill dwarves to the north. “I havenae seen that kind of bow.” The huge man attempted to mimic the gesture, struggling to do so with out skirts to lift. Elbreth genuinely laughed at the display. “It is a custom for the women. A man is to bow and then kiss the woman's hand” She said through her sudden smile.
“Yes, milady.” he replied following her instructions. She found there was something endearing to the huge mountain warrior calmly and politely trying to observe all of the foreign cultural tendencies that he didn't understand. She smiled again.
“Well then, would you care to come inside to discuss our mutual plans?” she asked.

“Umm, not just yet. I know this isn't the normal way but I'd like first if' you'd talk with me for a bit?”

“Well we would be talking-”

“No, just. About yerself, perhaps while walking?”

“Oh I see. We could take a stroll around our grounds, I'll have some guards chaperone.”

The two walked around the modest gardens and the blooming orchards. They talked for several hours and they both exceeded each other's expectations again and again. He was stunned by the strength of conviction a purpose that she exhibited, her Emerald eyes would flare with vigour and ferocity, dark hair whipping in the wind. She found that he was more than just a simple warrior, he eyes spoke volumes of his life and she found herself seeing through his toughened core and to the warmth and kindness beneath.

They had married in a week. She knew how to read him now. Every thought, every feeling, they were hers. She sidled up and put her arm around his. He almost jumped.
“I didnae see you there”.he smiled broadly and kissed her on the forehead.

“I felt like sneaking up on you. No luck on finding the councilman?” she asked gently.

“Aye he's lost to us for the time being. How'd you know?”

“The gloom was pouring off you in waves.”

He Chuckled. Though his smile quickly faded.

“You'll see him again I'm sure.” she comforted.

“Aye well I'm worried about the circumstances of that. But there's something else. It's not like other times someone's lost.”

“How so?”

“Well there's the pain, the loss and sorrow, but there's something I can't put my finger on.”

“Here,” she pulled his head down to hers and looked deeply into his eyes. She could see the sadness welling from the depths but also great confusion. “I think, it's because he left with out a word. You felt that you could depend on him that he was your ally and friend. But in his darkest grief he didn't turn to you for help, he didn't feel the same way, or at least not entirely. That sharp pain is betrayal and regret.”

He gathered her in his arms and embraced her soulfully. “Thank you.”

“It's my duty and my pleasure.” They kissed for a gentle hanging moment.

“I will miss him.” Dargan said drawing her across the room and towards a chair. “But I have more things to worry about now don't I and you should really be sitting more.” He gently persuaded her into the arm chair. He knelt down beside her and placed his hand softly to her growing belly. He looked and smiled at her and she placed her hand on his.

“We should tell your family soon.” she chided.

“I had to wait. They would have celebrated far too hard and long and we'd have lost our efforts towards him.” he sighed but less heavily than before. “You went to the healer today?”

“Yes,” she smiled sunnily.

“And?” he nudged impatiently.

“Well, I wanted to wait and see but they're both healthy.”

“Both?”

She smiled again, a stunning joyous glorious smile. No matter how many times she saw it, she just loved to see him completely flabbergasted.
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Verak Tibor
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Charlie Lloyd
Dargan sat alone on one of the higher parapets at Barbis Castle, deep in his thoughts. Gazing out over the Plains, he imagined, for just a moment that his not-so-lofty perch was not a tower but a great mountain amidst the flat land around him. As his gaze swept upwards, they fell upon a small bird moving erratically toward the tower. He tracked it as it flew in small circles, shedding tiny motes of silver light, which floated lightly on the wind. One drifted toward lazily toward him. Dargan reached out his hand toward it, and narrowed eyes: sharpening his arcane vision to better know what approached him. A cloying fog pressed at his senses, blocking his attempts to understand. He fought back the haze, and finally perceived the iridescent resonance of Slath. Seemingly the little joker couldn't help but shroud his messages, even to friends.

The mote touched his outstretched hand, and exploded into a spectrum of tinted silver. The bird turned to focus on him, and fluttered pointedly down to land on the railings beside him. It open it's mouth and in high, clear tones, began to speak.

Dargan!

I must congratulate you on your wonderful news. I would come in person, but I'm all tied up with taking over from Marcellus - what with the recent trip to the wedding and all. That's far from a small order, let me tell you. But I'm sure you know all about the burden of new lordship. No, what I meant to say is many congratulations, and may I offer you this gift, in honour of your wife and your children to come.


The bird shed another shining ball, this one golden. It settled on the ground, spilling gently until it formed two tiny metallic leaves. Dargan picked one up, and at his touch it let out a subtle ringing tone. He felt his mind settle, his thoughts lighten, and his worries diminish. There were still things to think about, but they were for another day. Right now, he could enjoy the fact that his legacy would be passed on, to not one, but two children. Whatever else may be happening, no man, no beast, nor anything darker, could deny him that joy. As the sound dimmed, his normal thoughts returned, but now more peaceful, and more controlled.

These will bring you peace in your most tumultuous times. Their power will not last forever, but I am sure you and the Lady Elbreth will know when best to use them.

The bird hopped into the air, and paused.

Oh, when you make the announcement, I'll have an emissary arrive with suitable ostentation to impress your rivals. This one's between us.

The bird flew up into the sky, and burst into a cloud of colours.
Edited by Verak Tibor, 11 Aug 2013, 23:10.
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