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Archive for November, 2010

Is it safe?

((Word has gotten back to Keltyr that a magister has been asking questions. Specifically, that Ghaar was questioned. Considering the amount of distrust between the paladins and Ghaar at the moment, it should not be surprising that Keltyr believes that everything is about to come down on his head. As you will see in later stories, he is not wrong either.))

Keltyr was drinking coffee and just staring at the wall. Despite the early hour, he had already armored up. A shield was propped up against a chair. His helm and gloves were on the table. She knew he had heard her moving. One of his ears had twitched as she turned over, but he did not acknowledge her.

Concerned, Dorri rose and draped her arms over his shoulders. As she rested her chin against the top of his head, Kel put one hand around her wrist. Tension had knotted up his shoulders and she knew he was tired, though he had not been able to sleep. Worry drove him to make plans and prepare.

When he had come into the inn that night and not joined her in a drink, she had been annoyed. By the time Verdus had arrived, she had been frustrated by Kel’s reluctance to tell her anything and worried by his battle readiness. She wished she had paid more attention to the exact details of the conversation between the bull and her lover. She knew the basics. Someone, possibly a magister, had come asking questions about Elerlissa.

Ghaar had been mentioned somewhere in that conversation. Recent events had proven to her and to Keltyr that the orc shaman that they had once saw as an ally had been lying to them all along. They could no longer trust that Ghaar and those of Noxilite would keep their silence. Since the leader of the Eye had turned on them, the orc might find it in his own self interest to betray them.

“I’ll get cleaned up,” she whispered in his ear, “by then Fabrio will be awake. We can give him our letters and the Scryers will make sure he stays safe. All they had to do was convince Keltyr’s mousey cousin to leave the city. Kel wanted the order’s loyal secretary safe and Dorri would help him, if she had to punch the pudgy man and drag him outside the gates herself.

She went to pull away, but Keltyr kept a strong grip on her wrist. “Kel, I’m cold.” She told him after a few minutes and he finally let her go.

Instead of taking her time, Dorri rushed through her morning rituals. When she was done, she started armoring up. When she was ready, Kel followed her out into the chapter house. They did not even bother knocking on the door to Fabrio’s office. The secretary did not look up as the two blood knights entered.

“Just a moment, Dame Dawnsorrow. I just want to get this one entry finished and we can start this morning’s lesson.”

“I don’t think you and Ryn are going to have lessons for a while.” The secretary started at the sound of Dorri’s voice and barely kept his ink well from spilling all over his desk when his hand hit it.

Keltyr spoke softly, “I think you should get out of this office for a while.” Fabrio raised an eyebrow. “Dorri and I have letters of introduction for you to take to the Scryers in Shattrath.”

“I have duties here.” He looked from her to Keltyr and then back again. “I can’t just leave everything.”

“We can survive some time without you….” She moved forward and the plump secretary cowered a little.

“Dorri…” Kel grabbed her arm and she turned towards him. “Let me talk to him.” She nodded and then he added, “alone.”

That request hurt and Dorri curled her hands into angry fists. He didn’t trust her to handle this right? Angrily, she stormed out of the mouse’s office, through the common room and into the kitchen. Her angry glares cleared the early morning servants out of the area. The paladin restrained herself from releasing her frustration on the dishes. She needed to keep her head.

“Damn him.” She snarled at no one and poured herself a cup of coffee. She poured cream and honey into the cup, stirring it with viciousness. When that cup of coffee was done, she started on another one.

“Dame Firebloom?” Fabrio’s thin voice grated on her nerves, so she turned to glare at him. His timid squeak made her want to punch him.

“What?” She snarled at him.

“I left notes for Lieu and Veldarin, so that they can keep up the books and keep the Order going.” She noticed he had a sack thrown over his shoulder. “Dame Dawnsorrow will no doubt be pleased to stop our lessons. She is still having trouble with the most basic of steps.”

Why was he telling her all this? She fought the urge to punch him. It would have been a way to vent her anger and it would have been payment for the way Keltyr had dismissed her.

“I…” Fabrio took a deep breath and stopped slouching. He fixed her with a pudgy earnest expression. “I need you to do something for me, mam.”

She slammed her mug of coffee down on a nearby counter and glared at the man. To her surprise, he stood his ground. She could tell he wanted to bolt, but Fabrio did not lower his eyes. In that moment, he looked very much like his cousin. Despite how angry she was, Dorri stopped to listen.

“You’ll look after him, won’t you?” Fabrio gave a lopsided smile, similar to the sly one Keltyr got whenever he was about to say something witty or shocking. “Not out of trouble, no point in asking you that. Just…”

Dorri sighed deeply. She was still angry, still nervous and still on edge. But this was family, not the type of family she was used to, it was better. “He needs you somewhere safe.”

That grin remained of Fabrio’s face. “I’m not the only one.”

Dorri shook her head. “I promised to stay with him.” To her surprise, the normally timid secretary reached forward and patted her on the arm. Baffled, she watched him walk out the kitchen door, thrown off her stride. It only took seconds for her to feel angry again. What the hell had he meant by that? Snarling, she went looking for Keltyr.

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Itanya: DOOM!

Fusaba: DOOM?

Itanya: totally

Fusaba: Whoa
I dunno if I can handle the doom

Itanya: Too late

Fusaba: Dammit
What happens now, then?

Itanya: Dunno.
Doom just kinda there
Not much else

Fusaba: Doom is hella awkward, maybe it should go away

Itanya: Maybe it shoud, but it never seems to get the hint

Fusaba: Just standing in the middle of the room like that

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Shopping

Dorri was always surprised at how much she enjoyed being in the market. Under most circumstances, she hated being in crowds but the excitement of haggling tended to push away the lingering anxiety of the crush. In the midst of haggling for a bit of crystal or gemstones, she felt a thrill akin to the rush of combat. Unfortunately, Keltyr had looked bored until they had arrived at the stalls for the metal vendors.

She watched him heft a small bar of gold and then scowl at the merchant. “For what you are charging, you should have used less tin.” He threw the bar down in disgust. “Or used something heavier.”

The man puffed out his chest, probably to protest, but Dorri could tell that this man’s wares would not meet Keltyr’s needs. Since her lover had already moved on, Dorri turned her back on the man with a snarl and marched after him.

“How could you possibly know it is not saronite?” The hulking green-skinned orc looked Keltyr up and down, barely shifting his eyes to acknowledge Dorri as she approached. He wore only a leather apron over his chest and the merchant sported his deeply scarred and muscled arms with pride. “Pretty thing like you wouldn’t know anything about Saronite.” His lips formed a parental smile around his yellowed tusks. “I could tell you stories that would put hair on your chest!”

“Saronite has a taint.” Keltyr said softly, leaning forward and waving the green metal bar under the orc’s ringed nose. “The very essence of an old god coats the metal. It seeps into your skin. It does things to your head. The entire fortress of Icecrown was made of the stuff. The only way to protect yourself from hearing whispers when you were trying to steal a few minutes of sleep during the siege was to pile anything you could find underneath you and hope for the best.”

Dorri crossed her arms over her chest, wishing she could block out the memories that Kel’s words brought back. There was a large clang as her lover threw the fake saronite bar back among the orc’s wares, crushing some small objects and sending samples to the ground.

“You know what was worse?” Keltyr asked, watching the orc’s complexion turn a little greener as he began to understand that he might have miscalculated. “What was worse was having to drag anyone that was slain to the pyres so that we would not have to kill them over and over again.” A dangerous smile stretched across the Blood knight’s face as he leaned towards the orc. The formerly boisterous smith continued his slow retreat.

“So, what stories were you going to tell me about Icecrown?’ Her lover’s voice was quiet.

The orc shook his head. “I did not know you were a veteran.” he smiled toothily, but Keltyr was already walking away.

The orc turned to Dorri’tow; a bit of his oily charm returning. Before he could even open his mouth, She slugged him. As the merchant staggered, she tossed her hair and moved to catch up with Keltyr. He had moved to the edge of the stalls and she saw him talking to a woman wearing a trainee’s armor.

“Hells, business.” Dorri suddenly wished she had brought a sword. Officially, there was an armistice, but there were still the occasional outbreak of violence. Thank the Light for that, or she and Kel would have lost their minds by now.

She came to stand just behind Kel’s right side as the Prophecy of Light’s Grand Master finished dressing down the woman. “I cannot believe that even someone with your pitiful training and lack of experience would think it was appropriate to spend half a day to deliver something like this.”

“But sir…”

Keltyr cut her off with a quick motion of his hand. “Dawnsorrow spent an entire evening in the city lockup because they are incompetent. I expect better from Blood Knights, so does Lady Liadrin. Now, I expect you to have let your commander know that I am coming to get my knight and let Master Baschi know that I will handle the matter as it should be.”

The trainee saluted, snivelling a little, and began walking away.

“TODAY, INITIATE!” Keltyr’s voice boomed across the bazaar and the girl started running. “Hells, Ryn punched some low-level parchment pusher. Conveniently, she somehow ended up spending the night in the city jail.”

Dorri shrugged a shoulder. “He should have been more careful who he insulted. Do you want to armor up before we go get her?”

Kel shook his head. “Armistice, remember? We’re supposed to be showing the people that we are safe.” As he mouthed the words of Lady Liadrin’s orders to them. “Besides, Ryn’s likely to kill one of Vranesh’s favorites if we leave her locked up too long. Let’s get this over with.”

Together, they walked to the blood knight hall.

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Cersei stepped out from beneath a darkened alcove of Murder Row. “Magister Darksun,” she smiled. “I’m so very glad that you could meet me here.”

“Mistress Dusksinger. A pleasure to see you once again.” He smiled at the woman, but he kept his distance. They shared the same schools of magic and, despite her note, he was not yet ready to trust her.

“I trust that you are well today?”

“As the day goes, well enough.”

“Good.” She flipped her hair. “I’m sure that will be enough pleasantries for both of us, and that you must be wondering why I asked to meet you here.”

“That is a fair assumption. Why did you want to see me?”

She examined her nails. “I understand that you’ve been looking for information on Keltyr Sunsworn and his bitch.”

“Not the words I used precisely, but yes. I work for those that are interested in anything that might be used towards Keltyr Sunsworn brought low.”

“I have information that would be of use to you.” Cersei lifted her gaze from her nails back to the Magister. “And I will give it to you, but only if you are able to help me with something.”

“That is usually the nature of these transactions.” His smile broadened. “A favor for a favor, so to speak.”

“I’m sure you’ll understand the situation, Magister Darksun. My poor, defenseless baby brother has been seduced into a terrible situation. He’s locked into an inappropriate marriage, and I wish to free him of it. Desperate times call for desperate measures.” She smiled back, a dark expression. “I’ll be blunt; can you cover up a murder?”

“Anything can be quietly dealt with, as long as one has the means and the will.” The Sin’dorei demonologist was cautiously noncommital.

“Is that a yes or a no? Obviously I won’t be doing it in public.”

“It depends entirely on the information and who the victim is. Obviously, you feel this woman, whoever she is has great power and I can see the value in taking it. But how can I be sure that what you are offering would be worth the exchange?”

“This information could ruin Sunworn, in the right hands. It involves bending the law for his own personal wants, and his best efforts to cover it up afterwards.”

“That does sound promising. I assume you have more than baseless accusations?”

“I have first-hand evidence.”

“Very well then. I will agree to cover up this foul deed that you feel you have to do rescue your dear brother in exchange for this first hand knowledge of Keltyr Sunsworn.”

Cersei smirked at the Magister, holding out a hand. “It’s a deal.”

He took the woman’s hand and murmured a spell over their clasped hands. “A deal that binds us both, Mistress Dusksinger. Let us hope your information is worth this.”

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