Future Catalysts[Emmz and Phrost]

[zkjt]

I had always thought Dellanir trusted me with most of the information she herself knew. Turns out I was wrong.

My liege had revealed very little to me on the matter of the woman, and the other two “packages” were kept entirely confidential. This had been quite the shock for me, as for the past 3 years I had been Dellanir’s most trusted confidant. From Counts she didn’t trust, to feelings she had on certain subjects, I had been privy to almost all of Dellanir’s thoughts. In fact I wouldn’t have been afraid to say I might have known the most about Dellanir as almost anyone. And so the fact I still had no clue about this crying woman and the other two mysterious packages definitely bothered me.

Before even entering the Great Hall, I had heard the woman. I had been attending Dellanir in her study, cleaning her desk and listening to her thoughts on Azuan. It was routine, and even the most vicious of insults directed toward humans blew by me. Despite her racial prejudice I knew she always kept me out of the human category. I had been with her for a while now, and sometimes I wondered if she even knew that I was human. Smiling slightly at the most recent jab at humans and their short life spans, I was about to respond that it enabled us to enjoy life more when I heard the first scream. I had much better hearing than normal humans due to my blindness, and so I stood at the same time as Dellanir. Dellanir’s tirade was over, and she was all business now.

“Say, accompany me,” She ordered, her voice brisk and flat. Bowing slightly, I began to trail her. The screams were getting louder, and although I knew that there were words being said, I couldn’t make them out. Dellanir didn’t comment on them although due to her silence I was also able to absorb the information that she knew who this woman was. “M’lady, you know th-,” I was cut off almost immediately. “Hush Say. This is pivotal,” I frowned, and allowed my mind to free itself, accessing the Warren of Meneas.

I hadn’t accessed Meneas in the longest time, and I felt a sense of unease grip me in the pit of my stomach as I proceeded to listen to the thoughts of Dellanir. Meneas was the Warren of the Mind, and when I accessed it I was able to pick up on the thoughts of others. Many times I was not discovered, and this ability was one of the reasons Dellanir kept me close. I knew I had power, power many Alageasians did not, and although I didn’t always like taking advantage of people, I allowed my curiosity to get the best of me.

Yes, yes, they were found. And now about the vampire..what to do? Killing him would be best, people can’t know about the twins..and yet he’s powerful..Sayenna?! Dellanir stopped walking and a force washed over me, crumbling the Warren around me and forcing my mind to retreat into itself. Dellanir’s fury was tremendous, and yes there was a sense of amusement as well. “You dare listen to the thoughts of your liege? I should have you reprimanded although I must say, you are in fact getting stronger,” Delanir’s voice was neutral, and I had no idea how to respond. At another shriek from the Great Hall Dellanir turned, and laid a hand on my shoulder. She continued walking, and I needed no other sign that I was off the hook, and to follow once more.

Finally, we reached the Great Hall. I was blind, and despite the woman’s screaming I had no idea who it might have been. I could easily have accessed the Warren of Thyr, and to make out basic features, and yet having already been caught I ignored my temptation, and came to a stop slightly behind Dellanir. The room had grown quiet, and soft sobbing was the only audible noise. Upon entering the room I was able to sense who was in the room, and the different personas assembled were quite various. There were two youngsters, maybe 7 or 8, and power radiated from them. It wasn’t an aggressive power however, and it wasn’t hard for me to realize it hadn’t been tapped into yet. Due to the largeness of the room, and the high ceiling, the power quickly spread, heating the room and creating a stuffy atmosphere. Besides the twins there was a woman, and a human at that. She was the one crying, and she displayed no power whatsoever. It confused me: Why would such a mundane character be in Dellanir’s presence? Besides her was an even more interesting figure. He had power. The magical kind. And he didn’t feel like the nice type. Suddenly I felt a pair of eyes shift on to me, and a force probed my mind. I instantly threw barriers up, but they were soon overtaken. A mind glanced over mine before it retreated, and just as quickly as it came, the mind left. Soon after, the eyes moved. I let out a breath, which apparently I had been holding in, and then held my breath again. What game was Dellanir playing?

“Kiana Alveda. You have been out of reach for quite some time, but I must say I am happy to have gotten my hands on you,” Dellanir’s voice was soft and I was reminded of a predator. Which in fact, Dellanir was. The woman didn’t respond, but a small voice spoke up, “Leave us alone!” it was male, yet very young, and Dellanir allowed herself a chuckle. “Oh I promise that I will. Once your father comes,” Kiana’s sobbing stopped, and she grew very still. My mind was racing. How were these people connected? “Yes Kiana. I know your lover is one of my counts and all I want is to know who. Tell me, and maybe I won’t kill him.” Dellanir’s voice was hardening. She wasn’t happy. Upon further silence from Kiana, Dellanir turned her attention to the man, who for some reason I was getting a bad feeling for. “And Castox. I take it your trip was more…eventful than you may have liked?” Delanir’s voice contained wry amusement, and the elf, Castox replied casually, “You could say that. But we have them now,” I felt Dellanir nod her head. So this was planned..this woman and her children were important..but why did Dellanir want them? Who were they? I couldn’t help myself anymore. I opened my Warren and freed my mind, and allowed myself to examine the minds of Castox and Kiana, sifting through their memories. Dellanir could try and keep me in the dark, but I would know who these people were.

[phrostphyre]

A single blue eye glared at the Rider currently talking to him. They were both elves, but something about this Rider screamed “inexperience” to him, and while inexperience was forgiveable, sheer disrespect was not. And this Rider also silently screamed disrespect. Ari Ravnson wasn't one to tolerate disrespect, ignorance, or purposeful stupidity. This Rider was exhibting cases of all three. And that made Ari Ravnson mad. Ari Ravnson didn't anger easily. It was, he thought, time to show the young pup who was truly to be feared in this. Standing, Ravnson drew his sword and slammed it hilt first onto the table, cracking it nearly in half. The crack appeared, seemed to hesitate a moment, then took off, running up and down the oak table in a jagged line, and the Rider appeared shocked that Ravnson would draw steel in Ilirea, and to threaten a Rider.

'Sir Ravnson, I must pro-”

”Protest nothing, you idiot! I am Count Ravnson or Mr. Ravnson to you, you young pup! I've been soldiering since you were a blob, sucking at your mother's tit! I am not a sir. I killed more humans, and traitorous elves, than you could hope to kill. Don't suck up, you lickspittle piece of shit! I'm Ari inn Atall for a reason.

”Mr. Ravnson, I must protest your language, rudeness, and harsh words. I am a Rider, an accredited diplomat, and in magic, your better. I am not a human, nor am I a traitorous elf. I insist to you, on behalf of the Order of Riders, that you disband at least three fourths of your personal househould troops, disarm them, and send them away from Osilon.”Ravnson sheathed his sword angrily. He was in Ilirea to see the Order of Riders' representative, but the representative had committed the cardinal sin when dealing with Ari Ravnson. He had brought up Ari's inability to use magic, and he had thrown Ravnson's service during the Blue Divide into his face.

Ravnson had been about thirty seconds from killing the Rider in front of him, when he realized that while he was fully capable of it, they would break his mind and find his mate and children. And that, Ravnson knew, was worth not killing him for. Ravnson turned and left the small office, kicking the door open and ignoring the Rider's protests. Using his innate soldier's instincts, Ravnson headed out of the Citadel of the Riders and into trouble. For there stood the head of his personal guard, the thirty six soldiers that went with him everywhere. Only their leader knew his secret, making it a total of three elves. Ari, a servant, and Bari. Bari took step beside Ari and to his left as they left the Citadel, entering the wider streets of Ilirea.

”Sir, are we going where I think we're going? Ravnson nodded, the other elf sighed, and shifted the spear cradled in his arms while Ari snapped the visor on his helmet. It was fiercesome sight, with cheek guards running below the eye slits, and beaten steel eagle's wings attached to each side. When Ravnson rode into battle, on a horse, he wore specially made wings, eagle feathers attached to a light wooden frame attached to his saddle, that whistled when he galloped. It was terrible.

But Ari Ravnson's goal now wasn't battle, it was to get through Ilirea without being pounced on by anyone and find the apartment above an inn his Kiana Alveda rented. Ravnson's goals usually worked out for him. The two elves walked side by side in a companionable silence, only breaking it to comment or make observations about the state of affairs in Ellesmera, Carvala, and the cowardice of the Riders. Bari Bjornsen had been with Ari Ravnson since Ravnson was a silent child learning to use a sword. Bjornsen had been nearly three hundred, then, and was now 689 human years of age. Ravnson depended upon the older elf's experience in every matter but the one where it had counted most. The heart. Now Ravnson depended upon Bjornsen to keep his secret, but Bari had been keeping Ari's secrets since the young lord was old enough to have secrets.

Tapping the shaft of his spear, Bjornsen thought for a moment, then tapped Ari's shoulder.

”You should find her a gift, sir. It's been several years, and the children most certianly will not recognize you, she might. Gifts may be able to assuage any anger she feels, and will certainly sway the children to your side. Although the decision of whether or not to tell them who you truly are remains up to you and she.”

”You're right, as always, Bari. We'll talk to the fellow in the black up there.” Ravnson and Bjornsen moved through the crowd, catching up to a male elf dressed completely in black. His hair was pure white and his coloration appeared to be slightly blueish, but Ari shrugged that off as simple magical self-alteration.

”Excuse me, my good fellow. Could you possibly direct me towards the nearest location where toys are sold?” The man appeared to size Ravnson and Bjornsen up, then thought for a moment.

”The marketplace? Down the road. Across the street. Stinks like a whorehouse, you can't miss it. Ari listened to the direction, nodded, and then smiled.

”Thank you, sir. That's much appreciated.[/color] As Ravnsen and Bjornsen went to follow the elf's directions, the elf spoke again.

”No problemo. But be a little more careful about what you ask strangers, Count Ravnson. People like to talk.”[/b] Ari nodded, and led Bjornsen down the road, thinking about what the elf had said. It was probably nothing, he decided. Simply a precaution. After all, the Queen was bloody paranoid.

[Emma]

I had a plan. A crappy plan, but still one that worked.

Getting into Ilirea proved to be a hell of a lot more difficult than I’d anticipated. With its shiny walls and buildings, gabled roofs, grand boulevards, and aromatic marketplace, one would think the Riders really were the peace-loving pansies that they so loved to project as their image. With that mindset, it wasn’t until I arrived at the main gates that I realized that there would be issues. For one, I noticed that there was an alarming number of cats hanging around the main building, but much larger and more feral-looking than the average house pet. It was no secret that the Riders kept werecats as their most trusted spies and informants, so I had to stay clear of them. The security was tight, and the occasional flying lizards landing outside kept looking at me like I would make a tasty lunch. After it became clear that I wouldn’t be able to get in through normal means, I backtracked a ways down the road and jumped into a carriage full of excitable tourists and citizens heading to Ilirea for the annual Renaissance.

Little happened on the way there. In my black trousers and doublet lined with silver, most people were keen to assume that I was a high-born gentleman, and treated me as such. I would have been offended if they didn’t. We passed snowy fields and tiny hamlets that steadily grew larger until the great gates of Ilirea rose out of the horizon. I could hear the distant clanging of bells, and most of the passengers grumbled, irritated at running late for the morning of the Renaissance. I leaned part of the way out of my window and eyed the city as we entered. Most of Broddring’s towns were exciting, noisy places. Ilirea was somewhat less so. Most of the inhabitants were too busy with their books and fascinating discoveries of the toiletries of ancient civilizations to have any real fun. Still, as the carriage pulled into the market district, the town looked less like a lifeless oil painting and more like an actual city that people lived in. The markets were full; people buying last-minute food and gifts for Renaissance. Most of the vendors were shady-looking men that looked more like they belonged on a pirate ship than here.

“The Prancing Pony?” one of them quipped when I asked him the location, in exchange for a few gold coins. “Central District is where ya go, near the Citadel. Rich Man’s Land.”

If I had a nickel for every inn called The Prancing Pony… these Alagaësians really needed help when it came to creativity. I blew out a breath, avoided getting splashed by brown slush from a passing carriage, and set off down the street. I walked with my hands buried deep into my pockets, wrapped in my black fur-lined cloak. For being situated next to the largest desert in the known world, Alagaësia was also damned cold. I had no eyes for the city, and was eager to get inside. Were it not so cold and if I weren’t on such an important mission, I might have taken the time to visit my cousin Nemo, especially if my other cousin Laioni wasn’t around. Whereas Laioni was an insufferable hag, Nemo was something else. She was just so easy to irritate. And apparently the fights she had with her dragon were capable of razing a city block or two, and well worth a watch. But work came before pleasure, and Dellanir was not a woman that liked to be kept waiting. As I turned onto the avenue leading into Central District, I slowed to a less brisk pace, eyes searching for the Prancing Pony. The Citadel gleamed in the winter sunlight, now so close I could see the patterned crystal windows. But as my gaze was directed towards the center of the Riders’ power, I felt a hand suddenly seize my arm.

“Excuse me, my good fellow. Could you possibly direct me towards the nearest location where toys are sold?”

Even though the tone and question weren’t out of the ordinary, the suddenness of my arm being grabbed put me on edge- which only increased when I turned and saw the man grasping me. Dressed in a grey cloak, breeches, and tabard bearing the insignia of Osilon, the man’s identity was made all the more obvious by being unusually well-built for an elf, and his missing eye. Count Ari Ravnson. The question suddenly made me wonder if my cover was blown, but the man was looking at me pointedly, expecting nothing other than an answer. The guy beside him, tall, dark, and his face marred with serious scarring, didn’t look any more suspicious. I raised an eyebrow, surprised at my luck. The transformation from my usual form was almost complete, so I doubted I could be recognized by the few elves who knew me. On top of which, considering that I was supposed to be looking for the mysterious high-ranking father of two half-elf bastards, and this high-ranking man had just asked me for the local toy store…

I put on a pleasant smile, and said, “The marketplace? Down the road. Across the street. Stinks like a whorehouse, you can't miss it.”
My smile was returned. “Thank you, sir. That’s much appreciated.”
I was released, and we continued on our way in opposite directions. But as we walked, I couldn’t help but call over my shoulder, “No problemo. But be a little more careful about what you ask strangers, Count Ravnson. People like to talk.”

I expected him to come running back, or at least send his bodyguard to accost me for answers, but they just kept walking. The man had either missed my little hint, or else was looking for toys for somebody else’s brats. Still, that didn’t rule him out from suspicion. I next headed into the Pony- a dainty little building with the sign of a rearing horse hanging over the doorway- and stopped. The inn was about half full. Nobody got drunk at this hour of the morning. Most of the customers were gathered around tables, surrounded by the fumes of pipes, in cups of what smelled like coffee. On one side, there was a wrestling match going on, and occasional raucous song burst from patrons who’d had too much caffeine. One of the waitresses was dancing on the table, to the applause of several people watching her. I made my way to the bartender, a bored-looking woman who shouted at anyone who was serving too slowly. She grumbled when I asked if I could see any residents, only showing me to the stairs when I bought a cup of coffee.

Before anything happened, I had to meet my partner. Being elves, several Riders were just as racist and terrified of their pure elf blood being tainted as Dellanir was, and so some people in Ilirea had aided this venture. They had sent one of their spies to assist me with this little ploy, someone who would be waiting in the inn under the name of ‘Thirrin’. I approached the door, unlocking it with a muttered spell, and opened it very slightly. The room was empty, except for someone lying in a bed that took up most of the floor space. I opened it a crack wider. A single beam of light fell across the figure that lay there. I could only see the face, but it was clearly female- and a nice face at that. Her eyes were closed, her breathing even. She was one of those exotic-looking people from across the ocean, further away from Alagaësia than Saxony, even. I stepped smoothly into the room, moving quietly across the floor, and leaned over her. I intended to yank the sheet off her and give her a rude awakening. This wasn’t the time for sleeping.

And so, imagine my surprise when the chick opened her eyes, only pretending to be asleep, and pulled a knife out from under her pillow.

I stumbled backwards just as it slashed across the air, right where my throat had been, and the girl flung off the sheets covering her and jumped off the bed. She was tiny, not exactly height-wise but more weight-wise- she looked and moved like a dainty ballerina, even if she didn’t act like one. She was dressed in a simple sleeping shift that covered everything except her feet, face, and hands. I didn’t get a lot of time to wonder at what she was wearing, however, and only ducked another slash. After a few seconds, however, it was clear that she wasn’t exactly a trained combatant- she went for a kick to the groin, which I blocked with my fist, and, failing that, went for another stab. I dropped a few inches so that the knife ended up embedded into the wall above me instead of my skull, and grabbed both her wrists, rendering her briefly immobile.

“Whoa!” I exclaimed when she tried for a roundhouse kick. “Look, babe, calm the hell down. I’m here for the half-breed brats, like you.”
She stopped trying to commit homicide and put her fingers to her lips, shushing me.
“I-” I started.
“SHH!” She was intently listening for something. I did too, but heard nothing. After a moment, she started to move backward, and I let her go.
“I apologize for that,” she said quietly, yanking out her knife and picking off wood splinters from the blade. I noticed, however, that she watched me from out of the corner of her eye while doing it. “You surprised me.”
“Hey, people usually aren’t happy to see me. Name’s Castox. What’s yours, doll?”
“Renn.”
“That’s a cute name. So-”
“Please don’t change the subject,” she cut me off abruptly. “The mother and Marianna aren’t here. The boy was playing downstairs in the inn last I saw him. Do you have a plan?”
Straight to the point, with serious guts. I decided I liked that.
“Get yourself dressed, doll, and meet me downstairs.”

Characters Used;; Tox with Renn Kuran
Words;; 1685
Muse;; So... f-ing... bad...
Thoughts;; Words cannot express the amount of sheer hatred I feel for this post. This is actually the worst thing I've written in a long, long time. I couldn't even bring myself to edit it properly.

[zkjt]

“No. I’ve told you thousands of times not to hit your sister, and yet you still do. This time, there will be punishment. You are not allowed to leave the apartment, even when your sister and I go to the market.” My mother’s voice was strict, and I knew by looking at her dark eyes I had no chance of getting out of this. Mari’s face peeked out from behind mother’s waist, her frizzy brown hair in a mess, her eyes gleaming with malevolent glee. Snarling, I leapt at her, but mother’s wrist snapped out blocking me, shoving me back. Another glare, and then she turned, placing her hand on Mari’s shoulder and beckoning her out of the room. Mari stuck her tongue out at me and wiggled her fingers, to which I responded by making a rude gesture and haughtily turning away. Great, now I was stuck here: In the apartment where I had lived for my entire life.

The apartment was above an inn called the Prancing Pony, a place for middle-class workers who wanted a drink or two. It wasn’t the worst establishment, and our two-room ”suite” was enough for our family of three. Mother and Mari slept in the backroom, which was the main bedroom. It consisted of a double bed and a single dresser, with a mirror and certain toiletries. My bedroom, living room, and dining room was made-up by a small cot, two arm chairs, and a window. There was a smaller bookcase toward the back of the room, which was actually filled with books. Mother loved reading, and had read all of the books multiple times. We ate in my room, and the food was brought up by either Sara or Lyn, the two waitresses at the Prancing Pony. Mother always found money to pay for two square meals a day, although how she came up with the money was lost on me. For fun, I normally snuck down to the main room of the inn, and listened to the workers and sailors talk. There were always interesting rumors, and Smyth, the innkeeper, always had some bread to give to me. Sometimes I left the inn too, and wandered the city, playing games with street rats I came upon, and just wandering the city. Sometimes I was given money, other times I was spit upon. Either way, it was always an experience. But now I was confined to my room, and Mari and mother were able to go to the Market.

As mother put on her coat, Mari crept up to me, patting me on the arm. “Don’t worry Magnus. I’m sure you’ll have fun..in the room,” she giggled and pranced out of the way of my blow, ending up at mother’s hip. “Now Magnus. What are you not to do?” Mother asked, peering down at me.
“I am not to leave the room under any circumstances unless it’s life or death,” I groaned frowning. Mother’s face softened, and she placed a hand on my cheek. “I promise next time I’ll bring you. You just can’t disobey me anymore,” I nodded my head, and mother peered at me for a few seconds before leaving the room. Mari followed close behind, with no more snide remarks toward me. I was now alone in the room.

For the first few minutes, I read one of mother’s books about the History of Broddring. After the first couple pages, my boredom overtook me and I placed the book back down. I paced around the room, occasionally glancing out the single window of our apartment at the streets below. I couldn’t wait until I was on my own and could wander around the city, doing whatever I wanted. The thought of independence from mother and Mari filled me with excitement. That excitement gave me energy, and when I couldn’t spend that energy wandering the apartment, I left it.

I knew that I was disobeying mother, and I did feel slightly guilty, but it wasn’t fair that I was the one who was constantly getting into trouble, when Mari started it half the time. And besides, they would be gone at least an hour, I had plenty of time. I opened the door, and shut it quietly, out of habit, before proceeding downstairs. A chorus of voices met my ears, and when I emerged I was surprised to find that the lobby was busy. There weren’t many open spots at the bar, and a good amount of tables were busy. Many of the regulars recognized me upon my approach, and offered greetings and small sips of ale. This was my type of environment, and I was loving it. After a while though, the men grew bored of me, and I was left to myself again. I grew angry and sat down at an empty table, resting my head on my hands. My blonde hair covered my eyes, and I tried deciding what I would do next, when a voice spoke up in front of me. “You look bored.” I glanced up to see a man sitting in the chair across from me. He had long silvery hair, and an odd face, with odd eyes. He was studying me curiously, and something about him gave me a bad feeling. I didn’t answer him, and rather found myself standing up abruptly, intending to leave. “Woah, woah buddy. Slow down, I only wanted to talk. Why aren’t you with your mom kid?” He sounded sincere, and after a moment’s hesitation, I sat down again. “My mother wouldn’t let me join her and my sister at the market. So now I’m stuck here.” I said bitterly. The man nodded his head, and his eyes flicked over my shoulder at something, and then returned to my face. “Sorry about this kid,” and with that a loud BOOM shattered my ear drums, and blinded me. I felt a hand roughly grab me by the arm, and then I was being picked up and carried out of the inn, into the daylight. I was able to make out screaming and shouting, although my eyes were shut, and I had no perception of where I was. By how much I was being jostled, I could tell whoever was carrying me was running, and I fought to struggle, using my fists and trying to connect with anything. I eventually hit something, but then a word was spoken and my arms fell stiffly to my sides; I was paralyzed, and kidnapped, and it seemed like whoever was carrying me had a purpose. Which could only mean that this was planned, and that I was wanted for a reason. And that thought sent a chill down my spine.

Mari

Wandering the stalls, I picked up several objects and peered at them, before putting them back down. Mother was in the fabrics stall, picking up several pieces of yellow cloth and speaking with the person managing the stall. Mother looked unhappy, but bought three strips of it, putting it in the bag she always brought with her too the market. Knowing that she would be looking for me, I skipped toward her, pulling on her sleeve.”Right here mama.” Turning she met my eyes and placed her hand on my head. “What were you looking at?” she asked. “I don’t exactly know. I think it was a crystal ball, but I bet it was just fake.”

Laughing my mother turned me around and we started heading back toward the inn. It had already been 45 minutes, and Magnus was sure to already have gotten himself into trouble. Walking through Illirea always made me happy, seeing the different kinds of people and buildings, and just imaging myself working for the Riders, and being the most powerful magician in all of Alagaesia. Such fantasies were common, and walking through the city only made them seem more in reach to me. The inn wasn’t too far from the market, and so when we were only a mile or so away from the market, we heard the shouts and saw the smoke. Mother’s hand tightened around mine, and she picked up her pace. I was confused at first, but soon realized that the smoke was coming from the Prancing Pony. Oh, Magnus..I felt a surge of dread, and although it was impossible for me to know, I felt like Magnus was in trouble.

Upon reaching the inn, I was surprised to see a gaping hole on the side of the inn. People were standing around everywhere, talking loudly and looking confused. Mother pushed through the crowd, or at least attempted to due to her stature, finally reaching the front of the crowd. Smyth was standing there, his face in his hands. Mother reached him, grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him, calling his name. Smyth looked up at her and his face was weary. I couldn’t hear what was said, but after a few exchanges I saw mother’s face grow pale. She returned to me and picked me up, something she didn’t do often. “Mother! What are you doing?” .I scrambled to get out of her grasp, but she had a vicegrip. “Stop it Mari!” Mother commanded, her voice sharp. I stopped fidgeting and glanced at her questioningly. I had never heard her sound like she did now. “Magnus is missing,” she spoke softly, and her voice cracked. I felt a dread fill me, and wondered where he was, why he was there, and if someone had taken him. Despite not knowing much, I did however knew one thing: whoever took him wouldn’t be happy with just him.