Conclave Crusade

As Alexander and Terristria adjourned from the meeting, they brought their observers with them and began walking back to their own camp.

"What do we do now?"

Alexander glanced in Terristria's direction as they kept walking and considered his junior Inquisitor's face for a moment before looking back to the path and crowd ahead.

"Nothing. The Lord Inquisitor asked for a private meeting with him, as you saw. The matter will be dealt with, whether it is in a manner fortuitous for us or not. There is no harm in what we did. You needn't fe-"

"I'm not afraid, Alexander," Terristria abruptly cut him off. "These politics are nothing new to me." He turned to look at Alexander directly. "Especially with you around."

Alexander smirked briefly and looked back to his junior Inquisitor, waving his hand in front of him and taking a small bow.

"Why, fellow Inquisitor, I am humbled that you take such pleasure in my dealings."

Terristria barked a short laugh. "Oh, but of course I do. I've got no choice in the matter, do I?"

Alexander frowned slightly at his friend, and spoke in a mocking tone. "Fellow Inquisitor, whatever do you mean? Do you tire of your station?"

Terristria slowed down for a moment, his face turning serious and he looked directly into Alexander's eyes. Alexander paused for a moment as well, sobered his expression, and nodded.

"Yes, yes, I know. Unfair question of me to ask, even if I was poking fun at you. No one questions your loyalty, Terristria. You know that."

Terristria turned back around and began walking at their previous pace with Alexander slightly behind him.

"I should hope so. Now, Alexander, again... What do we do now?"

"And again, I must say, 'fellow Inquisitor', that we do nothing. We wait and see how the situation develops. In the mean time, we resume our previous duties." Alexander looked thoughtful for a moment before looking behind him at one of his observers.

Thaem looked back at him. "Yes ser?"

"You will resume the same duties you had before watching over Vander's group. By singling you out as I did, I let Vander know I had some evidence to back my claim. However, he likely knows who you are, or at least that he is definitely being watched. We don't need to let these politics get... violent... so I don't want you or anyone else following him or his men around. Causing a scene would displeasure Master Sazil."

"I understand, ser."

"Good. As soon as you are back with us, I want you and Mearic to continue your rounds." Alexander looked over to Mearic who nodded. The Inquisitor turned back around to his front.

"It's going to be awfully... boring, Alexander," Terristria ventured.

"Boring? No... boring would be driving an ax into a tree or taking a hoe to the ground. Our work is never 'boring', Terristria. We do what we can to ensure the world never suffers again. Why, our very presence here has those damned creatures shaking in fear."

"I'd sure like to gut one or a dozen of them," Terristria said while palming the hilt of his family blade.

Alexander smirked slightly. "Don't be too hasty, now. I'm sure the opportunity will present itself soon enough."

Nacatha sighed as Douvel held his hand out before taking it. "Yes...I'm getting rather annoyed by this dress you forced me to wear..." She glanced back towards Vander for a moment before looking back towards Douval. "Lets go before i have to deal with him again." She started to leave the room in her quest to be as far away from Vander as possible at all times.

Vander expected a short trip to his tent, gather the things he had made ready the other night, perhaps a quick note keeping Gearx appraised of his progress, among other things.

He did not, however, expect to see a Blade standing guard over the entrance to his tent, especially seeing as all of his other Blades had been tasked with reinforcing the Crusades Supply lines.

Of course the real shocker came about when he recognized said Blade...

"Oh...crap," he managed after a moment of dumb founded staring before finally finding in him to greet the familiar face, "Gerald, I'd like to say this is a pleasant surprise but..."

"Forgive the intrusion sir, but Milady was quite insistent on awaiting your company within..." ventured Gerald, the only apology Vander expected to get for this abrupt and invasive abuse of his privacy.

"Well...ahem, Marcus, I think it best if I face this particular Dragon alone," said Vander to his aid, not quite over the shock just yet.

"Aye Milord as you say," said Marcus, trying to be reassuring.

"Right then, I'll remind her not to kill me for your sake old friend."

"As always sir your consideration is deeply appreciated."

"Think nothing of it," he said, taking a tentative step forward, and then another past the threshold of the tent flaps.

A life times worth of honed reflexes allowed him to catch the knife just before it flew over his shoulder perhaps just a bit too close to his face.

"Vander, good of you to finally show up," murmured a disgruntled but undeniably attractive voice, "Terribly impolite to keep a lady waiting."

"Hello Mellie..."

"That's it?" she said, gathering herself up from where she lay sprawled across his bed, "That's all Vander 'Dagger Tongue' has to say for himself..."

"Would you believe your beauty has left me speechless?"

An arch of an elegant eyebrow was the only response to that...

"Well it's partially that, and partially the fact that, as best as I recall anyway, your supposed to be on the other side of the continent at the moment," he said quite plainly in response, "You know, looking after the home front, making sure the little ones play nice, and pining away for your beloved superior as he boldly goes where no one has gone before...etc etc."

"The 'little ones?'" questioned Mellie, clearly not amused.

"You know, Hugo, Ronin, well mostly Ronin anyway, he does have a tendency to break things, and people, if not monitored properly," continued Vander, unabated, moving to his desk taking a piece of rune paper and jotting a few quick notes on it before turning back to Mellie with the most serious and stern of expressions on his face, "Which of course, does beg the question...What exactly do you think your doing here Mellie?"

At that the young lady in question could only muster a sigh of long suffering before slinking her way over to the increasingly bewildered Arch Inquisitor, trapping him in smoldering almost possessive kiss.

"Well that was quite nice," managed Vander as they parted, blinking as blood rushed to all manner of places in his body "But it doesn't really Answer my qu-OMPF."

Mellie fist cut him off quite abruptly as it slammed into his midsection, driving the air from his lungs and leaving him doubled over.

"Vander my dear," Mellie began, with a sweet but undeniably menacing air about her, "If you ever leave me behind to 'look after the little ones' again, I'll personally see too it that you never have any 'little ones.'"

"Noted," coughed Vander in response, catching his breath and regaining his feet, "But I'm afraid we'll have to discuss my future maiming later, right now I'm late for a field assignment milady."

"I know, and I'll be joining you."

"Excuse me?" Vander countered, eyes narrowing one brow arching in response, "I seem to be going deaf as well as blind..."

"This is not open to discussion Vander," stated Mellie firmly, not backing down in the slightest.

"Your right, it's not!"

They stood there squared off against each other, glaring and being glared at in return for an unknown amount of time. The clash of wills remained mostly figurative...until Vander took notice of the temperature as it rapidly begin to drop, gritting his teeth to go with his eyes...as he managed a suitable retort.

The resulting explosion turned heads at the opposite side of the camp, and rent tears in the fabric of Vander's tent, and shifted the buildings around oh so slightly in their foundations...

Five minutes later, Vander stormed from the tent, a fury unlike any he had exhibited before burning bright in his sightless eyes.

He stood there grinding his teeth for but a moment, before he turned to the Mellie's Blade, who for his part had remained mostly unfazed by the spectacle Vander had made of himself.

"Gerald," he said, managing a rather even tone despite his evident and barely contained fury, "Gather yours and Inquisitor Mellie's things together, meet us at the eastern watch station inside the hour or we will be leaving without you."

That said he turned, finding a startled looking quartermaster stumbling over too see what all the fuss was about.

"YOU," barked Vander, with a voice of absolute authority likened to the Gods descended from on high, which rendered the stunned Quartermaster in a suitable walking pile of mush.

"Yes My Lord."

"My Tent seems to have exploded spontaneously," said Vander simply, tone evening out once again, "See too it before I return."

"Yes My Lord."

With that Vander tossed his, now noticeably singed bag of provisions to Marcus, and stomped off to the aforementioned rally point, all the while cursing under his breath about 'impossible women' and 'lack of respect,' and the like.

For his part, he managed to calm down enough by the time he had reached his destination, finding the Tyrvoldians already packed up and ready to depart, leaving only Douvel, his charge, their Scout, and their noticeably uninvited guest.

Meanwhile, Ezsrah for his part, had a rather uneventful walk back to his tent, gathering his belongings before Adulv, deigned to speak.

She was quite lovely, echoed the swords voice in Ezsrah's mind, leaving the warrior a little at loss for words, still not quite so used to the eccentricities of his people's most scared weapons.

'Yes, yes she was,' he finally managed to 'respond' as he finished gathering the few things he required for the mission ahead.

Reminds me of my mother.

At that Ezsrah could only stand there and...blink for a moment, desperately trying to process what he had just heard...before the sword rushed to correct himself.

It's not like that, what I mean to say is-

'What did I tell you about revealing unto me the secrets of the cosmos?'

I believe the exact words you used were 'I have no desire to go frothing mad from any revelations about the nature of the universe.'

'Yes that was the tall and short of it,' continued Ezsrah rather curtly, 'I'll ask you do your best to remember that.'

Right right...I'm just saying...wow is all.

'Your 'wow' is duly noted,' countered Ezsrah, turning just a bit as the sound of some manner of small explosion caught his ears before he shrugged it off, and reported in to Vander proper.

Douvel escorted Nacatha back to their tent with a quiet air of dignity. Douvel was not happy about these circumstances but he saw no reason to disgrace himself by complaining in front of Nacatha. She seemed as miffed as he but for slightly different reasons. Vander specifically. It was one of the things he liked most about the woman. How much she disliked Vander. He imagined she was prepared better than any of them for this trip though. She had had survived this land long enough to make it to the camp. She clearly knew how to handle herself. Arriving at the palisaded officers camp they quickly entered Douvel's tent and began preparing themselves. Douvel even decided to let Nacatha dress herself in order to speed up their preparations. Timeliness was next to holiness.

Once they had left and started to head back towards Douvel's tent she seemed to relax, she looked over her shoulder once in awhile up until they entered the large tent. Once they were inside she walked over to where her stuff lay and turned away from Douvel, she started to undress quickly before putting her old dress back on not seeming to care what Douvel thinks as she did. She placed the red robe she had just taken off back onto his bed

Once the robe was back on the bed she grabbed her pack before glancing at Douvel. "Whenever your ready let me know.." she set on the edge of his bed starting to play with the torn fabric on her dress again.

Douvel quickly gathered his sparse belongings. He would have brought more if he could. Unfortunately there would not be an army of manservant’s to carry his luggage for him on this excursion. And it was not like he was going to carry anything heavy himself.

Instead he selected a single change of clothes, his stock of mage instruments, some dried food, and his water skin. Slapping a red white feathered cap on his head, Douvel turned to address Nacatha. The woman – disappointingly- had changed back into her old robes. Her tattoos were clearly visible now. Still, he thought to himself wryly, it didn't change the fact that she looked quite pretty.

“Let’s embark then,” declared Douvel, his voice dramatic but laced with sarcasm, “On the most dangerous journey of our lives!”

It was only after he spoke that he remembered Nacatha had already journeyed her alone in what was most likely a far more perilous journey. Semantics, he shrugged to himself, as he gestured for Nacatha to follow him to Vander.

Nacatha sighed as she looked at Douvel before looking away from him she could barely stop herself from laughing at his appearance. She walked behind him as he went off to find Vander, she sighed as she looked around before turning her head towards the explosion. "What was that..."

[sorry for the short post ive been feeling like shit all week and ii just wanted to get a post out to stop holding it up.]

Vander had calmed decidedly down by the time Mellie had shown up, to her credit well within the allotted hour, and while she was still noticeably miffed about the perceived slight of leaving her behind, comparatively speaking she seemed in noticeably better spirits with the prospect of a mission to look forward.

It boded well for Vander, who was steadily warming to the idea of Mellie's presence for a multitude of various reasons, her experience, her sense of humor that seemed to so effortlessly sync up with his...the way she filled out her uniform so very nicely.

In any case, with the arrival of Mellie, and their surprisingly punctual scout, they needed only two now to get their little excursion off the ground.

Speak of the Devil.

"Ah Douvel, glad you could join us, I was most concerned that we might have to take our leave without you, and I shudder to think however we might cope without your skill and expertise..." waxed Vander in his greeting, eying Mellie who mouthed the word 'ass' at him playfully as he in turn winked at her, "Ah but I forget myself, Douvel, may I introduce my lovely associate Mellie, and do unclench sir she's well up to speed on our little situation."

Mellie, managing a subtle eye roll at Vander's overtly verbose nature, offered her hand to the noblemen in questoin, "Pleasure to meet you," she offered agreeably enough, even as Vander cracked wise about Douvel's 'traveling hat' so called...

"...why we should all be so lucky to be so smartly dressed, in fact," continued Vander, before turning and calling to the men assembled and awaiting orders, "Gentlemen, least we be waylaid by fighting over it later, in case the unfortunate should befall my good friend Douvel here, who would like his hat?"

The men, in response, mustered a few dumb found blinks before three hands were tentatively raised in a most unsure manner.

"Right, well I suppose it best you hash that out amongst yourselves now before we move out," said Vander turning back to the group and suddenly smacking his forehead in mock admonishment, "Ah but it seems I've almost forgotten! Mellie! Allow me to introduce my very special friend Nacatha, whom I hope to be thoroughly acquainted with before this trip is done."

At that Mellie, stepped away from her musing with Douvel, and offered a similair greeting to Nacatha, with something that might have been sympathy in her eyes.

"Pleasure to meet you as well..."

Douvel brushed Vander's customary insults aside as he gazed at Mellie.

"My lady," bowed Douvel as he took her hand and kissed the edges of her finger tips lightly, "The pleasure is all mine."

He flashed her a sincere and white smile. The woman was very pretty that was for sure. And from the way she held herself, Douvel would guess she was of noble birth. Inwardly Douvel was very pleased. Nacatha's presence was appreciated to be sure. She had a frankness about her that he found relieving in contrast to the shadowy machination of noble politics he was used to. But she was incapable –being the peasant woman that she was- of understanding the more complex and sophisticated issues in life. Like good clothing for example.

But it appeared that Mellie may be of higher birth. And that would mean she would be liable to appreciate the finer things in life and be capable of conversing on a more equal level with a man of Douvel's intellectual standard. Intellect that would be in short supply with simpletons like Vander around.


Turning to address the Inquisitor he flashed another far less sincere smile, "I appreciate the attention you pay to my cap and your offer to have others take care of it in the case of some accident. But it is clear from the way you go on about it that you secretly wish it for yourself. And why not? It's probably worth more than everything you own put together. So fear not my gormless friend. Should I meet an untimely demise I state hear and now before these witnesses that my cap should be gifted to you to do with as you wish. Perhaps you could sell it and buy coin for a nice relaxing bath?"

Douvel grinned wider and his voice took a conspiratorial tone as he leaned in to whisper to Mellie, "I fear to be rude but frankly your friend leaves quite a smell. I had to air my tent out for hours after he left."

Nacatha glared at Vander as he spoke, "Why no one has killed you for that mouth of yours escapes me..." She looked towards Mellie as she extended her hand in greeting. She started to slowly pull her right hand glove as she glanced back to Vander. "During your interrogation of me on this mission I'm being forced into against my will if you seek to try to lecture me on the dangers of magic as I sense you will know that I most likely know more of the subject then you." She looked back to Mellie as she finished pulling her glove off keeping the inside of her hand out of the view of the men around them as she took Mellie's hand.

The woman could feel the damaged skin of the mage's hand as Nacatha shook her hand slowly. After she let go she slid her hand back in the glove continuing to hide it from view. "As for your hat Douvel giving it to that man would disgrace and de-value the hat..now lets get this over with...."

Mellie smiled at Douvel's whispered barb, in a manner both devilish and beguiling.

"Oh don't mind that," she offered in response, "It's just the lingering stench of recently stroked ego."

They both shared a laugh at that, even as Mellie crushed the instinct to wipe the fingers he had kissed against her skirt. She was familiar enough with the mannerisms of the court to know that would not do, but it didn't mean she liked it.

Still though Douvel affable enough based off first impressions and the few notes Vander had made on the Conclave's profile of him.

She politely excused herself to greet Nacatha at that who, if nothing else, seemed to be both very straight forward and blunt about her thoughts. Not the smartest strategy in Mellie's opinion, but you had to respect her for her guts if nothing else...or pity her for her insanity, she really hadn't decided which yet.

Still though, she shook her hand, noting the obvious scars for future reference, and smiled politely at her all the same.

"Vander," she called, turning back to join her 'superior' at that, "I'm getting the vague notion that the young lady doesn't particularly like you..."

"Yes," said Vander, a bit of a charmingly boyish grin about his face as her spoke, "I was beginning to pick up on that myself, but she does have a point...Captain."

"Yes Sir," over enthused the young man in Question, as he snapped to attention.

"Are we prepared to be off?"

"Sir, Yes Sir, all preparation are finalized and we are ready to depart on your command."

"Excellent! Consider the order Given my good man, Deploy your men in a tactical column formation, Douvel and Mellie shall be accompanying the main formation, with Gerald bringing up the rear, while Marcus, myself and the good lady Nacatha shall take point," ordered Vander, as the men quickly mobilized to his command, packs shouldered and formation taken.

"Ezsrah, I don't suppose I have to tell you your job..."

"Not at all."

"Good good, Alright then," he said, turning back to the assembled magical assets of their little venture, "Shall we?"

Douvel smiled once more at the woman. It appeared she had a sense of humor. It appeared this journey wouldn't be all misery after all.

As she moved to greet Nacatha the Eadhaolin mage could not help but allow his eyes to rake her figure. The woman was beautiful. Long dark silk hair that shimmered ever so slightly as it swayed. Bright vibrant green eyes a man could spend an entire age looking into. And her body, well needless to say, well proportioned barely seemed to cover it. And that smile! She was easily one of the most alluring women he had ever met. She had to be Eadhaolin nobility. No other nation could have bred a woman so attractive.

This was of course quite a bit more than he could say of the rest of the group. Lowly soldiers the lot of them. Simple peasant blood ran through all of their veins it was clear. Mundane. Ruing in the debasement that was their lowborn character. Douvel was consumed with a momentary frustration. Why must he be forced to endure such company? You are your company the old Eadaolin saying went. And if that saying bore any truth it meant that Douvel was a little more than commoner. Subject to the whims of his better.

But no. Circumstance had trapped him perhaps but he was no lowborn. He was Eadhaolin nobility. He would come through this one way or another.

And besides he thought as he gazed at the buxom chest of his new acquaintance. Some of his company was quite fine. Which made him fine as well.

A few moments more of customary introduction and the group was off. Walking over to readdress Mellie, the Eadhaolin noble inquired, "So where exactly in Eadhaolin do you hail from milady?"

Nacatha sighed as she followed Vander to the front glancing at Eszrah for a moment before mouthing "Be safe" before looking away from him. She glanced at Vander for a moment before starting to move away from him trying to keep herself as far as possible from him but still close enough for to not accuse her of trying to run, she was also still in range to hear him as she glanced at him again out of the corner of her eyes.

And so the company departed roughly half an hour ahead of schedule.

A beautiful day for a walk if Mellie had to say so, partially cloudy, but sunny and bright all the same, also made her pity Vander, who could neither enjoy the light of day, or in fact, entertain any concept of 'light' what so ever.

Not that she let that hamper her enjoyment of the day mind you, as she marched ahead of step of the rest of the formation, Douvel to her left.

Though in reality that enjoyment was a mere pretense to a delicate mental exercise Mellie was currently struggling with. Specifically she was attempting to pin point the unmistakable sensation of 'eye rape' which she had developed an almost sixth sense for over the years.

Truthfully she could hardly blame them, boys would be boys, and she had been aware for quite some time just how attractive she was. Which wasn't to say she was stuck up about it, rather it was a simple matter of being self aware.

The point being, someone was looking, hard if she had to guess, and there were any number of-

'Oh...well I suppose that solves that mystery,' thought Mellie, as her eyes caught Douvel's rapidly looking up to meet her's, in an admittedly more professional version of a song and dance she had mastered the steps to long ago...

She broke eye contact at that as they continued trekking for a moment before he voiced a question that had her momentarily reevaluating Douvel...

"Oh my, am I truly so obvious?" she said with a coy grin, making something of a show of looking over her shoulder as she laughed lightly, "Is there some manner of sign on my back? You deduced that almost as quickly as Vander, though truthfully you were polite enough to introduce yourself first-" 'And didn't feel the need to list my height weight, and turn-ons' she declined to add tactfully.

She realized, after she had spoke, she had perhaps overestimated Douvel. It wasn't a matter of deduction on his part, so much as a matter of supreme arrogance that only his country could produce a women of Mellie's (I'mnotstuckupI'mnotstuckup she repeated quickly to herself) caliber. That knowledge made her smile just a bit more, in a manner similar to a cat playing with a mouse.

"But if you must know, originally I hail from Bordaeux, specifically a small estate of my families' overlooking the docks, practically barbaric when compared to the sprawling manors of the plains I know, but it had it's own unique charms, and a rather breathtaking view," she said in answer to Douvel's Question.

"You'll pardon me for not asking the same of you, I've already read you file," she said playfully, pointing to the emblem on her chest, close to where she felt him staring with a knowing look in her eye, "Inquisitor," she simply as if that explained everything...

Speaking of Inquisitors, or rather Arch Inquisitors, Vander had thus far managed to subdue the dreaded 'silence' by talking to his good friend Marcus, reminiscing on shared near death experiences, and laughing them off as only people familiar with the sensation of 'not dying but almost' could.

And then Vander's blind eye's caught Nacatha's for just a brief instance and all his focus shot to the not inconsiderable task before him...

"Marcus, I'm getting the vague, unmistakable sensation that Mellie is plotting against me," he said in a straight faced joke, "Why don't you go back, catch up with Gerald for a bit, and keep an eye on her for me..."

At the two blood brothers made eye contact, a certain shade of genuine concern reflected in Marcus' that was quickly smothered by the sternest reflected in Vander's.

"Aye Milord, shout if you have need of me," he said, meaning 'shout if she starts strangling you...'

"Do check back in about an hour to make sure Lady Nacatha hasn't killed me yet," countered Vander playfully, as always more direct then he perhaps should be.

With his initial 'Aye Milord' already out of the way, the Blade Captain merely bowed his deepest respect
before tactfully retreating to the rear of the column.

Alone now with Nacatha, the hated awkward silence descended with choking thickness on them both as Vander turned over in his head the best way to go about it...

"I know you don't like me," he began eventually, a certain wieght to his voice that was somehow absent in all instances of it before, "I'd have to be more blind then usual not to notice that, and I know you have perfectly legitimate reasons not to, as a human being I can be a bit...abrasive."

He laughed in a self depreciating manner a bit a that, "Something of an understatement I'm sure, but I never said I wasn't biased."

There was a pause there were his mind continued working, trying to reach it's conclusion.

"That said, I'm not here to interrogate you, nor am I here to lecture you, I'm merely here to help satisfy our mutual curiosity..." he continued gaining momentum, "The curiosity that compelled you to wander alone into a camp comprised mostly of glorified armed thugs, people like Douvel who, gods bless him, isn't as great as he thinks he is, and overtly nosy Arch Inquisitor's whom are blind and yet strangely do not seem to be impaired by it in the slightest..."

He laughed just a bit at that in that same self depreciating manner as before.

"So, in honor of our mutual like of knowledge about each I propose a game...we take turns asking each other questions, one question per answer, and we MUST answer honestly. It's as much a game of trust as it is a game of discovery..." ventured Vander, a undeniable light in his sightless eyes that seemed almost infectiously excited, "As a gentlemen I shall allow the lady to ask the first question..."

Meanwhile further down the road, Ezsrah kept watch for trouble as was his duty, making safe the route of others.

It was a task he had preformed before, often and well, yet it had never quite seem so...isolated a task before.

'...stay safe...'

He stifled an agitated snarl as his mind unintentionally stumbled back to that moment. He had thought of little else sense he had left the main group, the implications, the lack of implications, the motives for an against, the possibility he had simply misread her lips. It was infuriating that something so trivial could affect him so deeply, and he thoroughly digusted with himself for letting it do so...

And yet...

And yet...

...when was the last time another human being even pretended to care about you?

Ezsrah remained stoically silent at Adulv's question...not acknowledging it at all as he continued his lone trek through the woods...

Oh cut the 'Lone Wolf' crap son. You hate this, everything about your existence since you first took hold of me in that moment of primal desperation has been nothing but wretched isolated pain. And before you try denying it AGAIN you would do well to remember that I am talking INSIDE YOUR FRIGGEN HEAD!!

No reponse was offered to that, and Ezsrah could amost hear the faint whisper of an airless defeated sigh.

Alright so maybe you aren't going all 'lone wolf on me. Maybe it really is worse then that...maybe you really have just forgotten-

With almost frightening swiftness Ezsrah cut Adulv off.

'I will never forget.'

Silence was his only response, and thus he said no more. His task continued with relative peace from there on.

Douvel's smiled didn't falter as she spoke though he couldn’t help but give an internal shudder as he thought of Bordaeux. As it should with all men of power in Eadhaolin. It was the site of Eadhaolins greatest failure. No. Humiliation.

They had been bested by the barbarous soldiers of the Wolf Throne. Incapable of defeating their knights in open battle the bastards had resorted to treachery. Travelling across the Spine and through secret passages in the Black Wood. They had struck the former jewel city without warning and burned it down without mercy. And all of Eadhaolins chivalry and valor could do nothing to stop it.

The Sun King had ordered the punishment of every man who fled the city without standing to fight and executed the surviving family members of the cities old ruling family. But it had not been enough to squelch the shame of that defeat. The bitterness it left in the hearts of men across the nation.

Other kingdoms lost faith in Eadhaolin. The fighting strength of its horsemen questioned in ways it had never been since the invasion of Atimar. Resources and aid that had once flooded the nations was quenched like a small flame doused with water. Even the Conclave became hesitant. Preferring then on to stand on the sidelines as the armies of the Wolf Throne descended on the very plains of the capital.

In the end it mattered not. The Wolf King's dogs had withdrawn with their tails between their leg rather than face the might of Eadhaolin in a final open battle. But the smear of that defeat would never go away. Cowardly factions among the nobility had ensured that when they insisted on the building of fortifications around the strategic port. The only city in the land with walls.

And that created stigma. While once the land had been coveted by the most powerful and influential of noble families now only the poorest of lords resided there. That would have explained Mellie's relations with the Conclave. The House of Rules politics were cutthroat. As a woman from a poor noble family she would have had no prospects other than being married off to secure the ties between her father's house and another noble families. It would seem apparent that such a outcome would not suit her and thus she had used her Sense to make more out of herself. And Douvel had to admire that. Along with her other physical assets she possessed.

Still Douvel had never been to the city himself and he said as much. "Any noteworthy attractions I should be made aware of? Perhaps some excuse I could give my father in order to visit your estate?" he inquired good naturedly.

Nacatha glanced at Vander as he finished speaking "You think I want to know anything about you? You're wrong..only think I would like to know about you is when you die..and have fun waiting on a question from me...because I'm not going to be asking one anytime soon." She looked at Eszrah as she finished speaking to Vander.

"Oh I'm not really one to be offering tourist information," said Mellie honestly, "I've only been their sparingly over the course of my life."

And there it was, right on que, that strained sort of...silent hiccup everyone from Eadhaolin seemed to choke down whenever Bordaeux was mentioned.

She did have to give him credit, Douvel certainly knew how to hide it much better then most. Trained as Mellie was she doubted even she would have noticed it if she hadn't already been looking for it.

"I suppose if you simply must come, the view of the ocean, from my father's home anyway, is perhaps the best there is," she smiled rather wistfully at that, indulging in a bit of nostalgia as she replied morning being gently rocked awake by the soothing sound of waves caressing the shore and the birds calling idly as the sun rise over an immense and majestically blue horizon, "Gods help you if you let my father know that though. He always loved the Ocean, and he will not hesitate to thoroughly lecture you on it's grandeur."

She smiled a bit in memory, as her eye was unconsciously drawn to Vander's form ahead of the group, seemingly engaged in conversation with Nacatha, who for her part did not seem particularly interested in holding up her end of it.

"Doesn't seem to be going too well for the intrepid Arch Inquisitor does it?" she playfully asked Douvel, indicating the pair in question, "Tell me sir, what do you make of Vander's current person of interest?"

Speaking of Vander it was true he had not expected so quick a shut down...if only because it seemed fairly unreasonable all things considered, but he had faced the much and rightfully dreaded Internal Inquisitorial Inquiry Board (A process which could, and often did, drive otherwise powerful and influential men to tears) and survived with his dignity mostly intact.

Compared to that, there was nothing this admittedly and intentionally obtuse young lady could do too him that had not already been done, before, refracted to the thousandth degree, and dragged out for roughly 5 hours.

"Well, I didn't really mean me personally," he said with an affable sort of disinterest, still smiling lightly despite this 'would-be' set back, "But you really do have to wander as too why the group of soldiers we're traveling with stabbed their swords into the dirt, and bowed to them before we left, or why Douvel has an ego roughly the size of a small mountain, or perhaps, what meaning the tattoos upon our scout hold."

He let those questions linger a moment, before continuing.

"You've stumbled upon not just one culture, but an entire collection of cultures, peoples, and ways of life entirely alien from your own, it's only natural for you to be a bit curious..."

Again he let his words linger a bit as he took a moment to consider...

"But perhaps I am coming at this the wrong way, you did admit curiosity about the Conclave when we first met, mayhaps it's time you were enlightened..."

He paused again at that, a look of deep thought crossing his features as he pondered how best to tackle that particular monster.

"The Conclave is an Order, an association if you will, of mana sensitives, mages, and generally people who can do-" he fell silent abruptly at that, wave his fingers at that as arcane lightening crackled between his fingers lightly before just as swiftly abating, "-that. Their purpose is to ensure the use of magics and mystical items solely and exclusively for the service and betterment of mankind, a lofty ideal that they sometimes struggle with too be sure, but for the most part they always strive for it, and I believe they should be commended for that if nothing else."

"Working alongside the Conclave is the Inquisition, which both Mellie and myself serve under, their goals are to prevent the abuse of magic to the determent of others, and see that the proper justice is served to said abusers. Again, lofty ideals, and no small amount of struggle, perhaps even more so with my order then with the conclave proper, Inquisitor's are not perhaps renown for their patience, or indeed their understanding for those acting in violation of the Conclave's laws..."

"Which, I hope, explains why I had Douvel watch you, and make sure none of my more...enthusiastic associates attempted to, 'do as comes natural.' Speaking of which, we're probably going to have to get you relocated out of camp when we do return, possibly have you listed as missing in action, or the like, I got the sense you were starting to loath your presence there, and I don't think I can beat the more 'Inquisitive' of my associates off much longer..."

"But that's besides the point, tell me Nacatha if you'd be so kind," he said, point to a marking running down her shoulder, "What purpose does this marking serve...the imagery seems to be invocative of fire...and the flow of mana also seems to suggest that, but I've been wrong before, and I am just so terribly curious and..." he trailed off at that, seeming just a bit more giddy and childish then his position, and indeed his age, really should have allowed.

'Damn...

Could there be any worse situation?'

Vitrik sat uncomfortably on the rocky entrance to the cave, watching down the hill and slight valley as far as the sparse trees would permit. His mind easily recollected for him another terrible situation, still fresh.

He and his group had been tracking a pack of ferals all the way to near-impassible rocky terrain. They had the ferals cornered and were engaging them when they found themselves surrounded by an even larger pack of wraiths. Vitrik's hunting party had barely made it out alive with the help of several suicidal actions. None of those who remained left unscathed, but Vitrik found himself as the only survivor several months later after the terrible wounds felled the others.

Everyone had told him not to blame himself, that every precaution as a leader had been made. He chose to bury the pain and guilt, but what should he feel now that he was in nearly the same situation?

They stumbled upon a group of wraiths and had nearly tired themselves out against them when a scouting party from the invaders stumbled upon his group! They were able to retreat with no immediate losses, but a couple were already lapsing in and out of consciousness from their wounds. Yet again he remained in the best health of his fellows. Did he lure this misfortune upon those around him? He desperately wanted to curse himself.

However, there was one other who was still healthy, a female who was still very much wet behind the ears, a youngling who answered the call of her people and of Kaim. He sent her off to the last known position of the nearest commissary, begging for help.

He looked back into the cave where deep breathing would occasionally yield a deep, anguished groan. The last pulse of adrenaline allowed them to seek shelter here and hide, but there were not enough able bodies to carry the wounded away.

Vitrik's gaze again turned towards the mouth and down the hill.

He knew they would come. He knew that the scouts would report their weakened state. If help did not arrive soon, then the only option they had was to fight.

'A fight to the death...'

Vitrik held no illusions in his mind. If the enemy came, even with a couple less than his number, he and those with him would die here.

Vitrik breathed a sigh and lidded his eyes, a slight tug playing at a corner of his lips.

He had, of course, a plan. If the worst and most likely scenario occurred, the cave was large enough that the enemy would have to pursue within to kill off the remaining hunting party.

They were very fortunate that one of the earth-specializing Kailzim with him was still somewhat able. He couldn't move his legs without severe pain, but he was confident that, given the signal, he could bring the cave down upon them all.

Vitrik opened his eyes to the daylight again.

Perhaps such a sacrificial death would erase his guilt in his final moments. At least, he could hope.

“I’m sure your father could even get a sea-wary nobleman like myself to appreciate the great waters,” replied Douvel with a ready smile. His stomach on the other hand did a minor somersault as it recalled the journey here. It had taken several months from ship in Eadhaolin, to the Conclave island stronghold, to the Eastern City States, to this blasted land. It was during that time that Douvel’s tale of misery had begun, spending the entirety of the time, seasick vomiting over the rails of the water vessel or in a bucket in his too tight for comfort cabin.

Shaking the memory from his head he pondered the woman’s next question, “Nacatha is many things. Blunt. Borderline violent and very to the point. It’s hard for those with the Sense to judge the powers of others, but I’d imagine if her tale of getting here is true she is no pushover. Certainly someone worthy of interest.”

Douvel glanced sideways then and a faint almost devilish smile played across his lips, “She is also very attractive. Lacking in all sense of style and dress code to be sure. Clearly in need of instruction on the most basic and necessary of mannerisms. But very pretty. And while her down to earth state of mind but seem uncouth to some I could imagine it being somewhat endearing to others. Especially to men who enjoy difficult but beautiful women. Certainly someone worthy of interest.”

Nacatha sighed as she listened to Vander's speech. "Yes i am intrigued by all the new things I've ran into...but I would rather learn them from myself then from someone else simply because i have no way of knowing at the moment if you will bullshit me..." She looked away from him looking back towards Eszrah as she finished speaking to Vander. After a moment she looked back to Vander "My tattoos are what allow me to use magic...also the tattoo that you speak up is not where you are pointing its on my palm..."

Mellie eye's narrowed gracefully as she carefully listened to Douvel's words, focused intently on Nacatha, as Vander's gaze raked over her in a curious eagerness that slowed only long enough for him to produce a note pad and begin jotting things down at a rather impressive pace.

Now Mellie did not consider herself a jealous women, in point of fact she considered the emotion of envy specifically reserved for those pitiable lesser beings incapable of securing what they wanted when they wanted it.

Possessiveness, on the other hand, was a trait she self aware enough to recognize in herself. And why shouldn't she be? After all what was won by her, was by rights indisputably hers to do with as she saw fit.

These thoughts and more circled avidly in her mind as she continued listening intently to Douvel's description of Nacatha, even as he began to prattle on about how pretty she was.

"Yes," offered Mellie as Vander continued to visibly inspect the young lady in question, "Quite worthy of interest indeed..."

Swiftly she resolved to let her wayward 'thing' resolve his interests in his own time, secure in the knowledge that eventually his curiosity would satisfy itself, and he would come crawling back as he always did.

"It seems at least that Vander is finally getting to the hear of the matter," she offered with a bit of a dazzling smile to Douvel, "I hope he wasn't too much of a bother too you, he does so enjoy getting under people's skin, almost to an unhealthy degree..."

Meanwhile, Mellie's 'thing' or Vander as he was more commonly known as, was in the midst of enjoying his job quite a great deal, as he earnestly circled the seemingly unamused Nacatha, appraising her every square inch as he swiftly took notes on everything he saw.

"Ah yes, I see the pattern now," he said with a smile playing about his lips, bending over just so, to get a better view of her palm, "Fascinating, simply fascinating..."

He was on the verge of a 'oh look at this cool thing' rant and everyone around him would likely suffer for it...

"You know, the Conclave tried to do something similar to this awhile back, branding non-magic users with rune tattoos," he started simply, taking notes most enthusiastically now that he had deduced the correct pattern for the runes, "Never could get it too work though, not properly anyways, the rune structures we use are much larger, and a bit more intricate, then yours, so we had to use really big bastards or risk running out of room."

He paused for a moment, biting the tip of his pen as he considered another tattoo on Nacatha, before jotting something down with a little unsureness, before continuing.

"We only managed one field test at that, found out that we had to apply the tattoos almost bone deep in order to ensure the mana flow wasn't disrupted by scratches too deep or thick," he said simply, titling his head slightly at the same tattoo, before finalizing his notes, and moving onto the next, "By that point of course the process was almost entirely counter productive, I mean all we really managed to do was make one or two really big targets ineffectually throw fireballs from their hands before collapsing in spasms of pain."

"Your people, whomever they are, seem to have streamlined the process almost to an art form however," he said, not bothering to hide how impressed he was in his voice, "Your runes seem to be thinner, more elegant, less busy, and altogether much more efficient then ours, it really is quite the marvel."

He fell silent at that, only the ambient noises of nature filling the gap highlighted by the sounds of pen scrawling across paper whilst he made a few final notation before slipping the note pad back securely into it's place inside his pouch.

"They must hurt like hell," he offered finally with admiration, mixed gently with something that might be sympathy.
He felt it appropriate to leave it at that.

"...But I suppose I've made you suffer my presence long enough, I'm going to linger up here for a moment, and process...you may stay if you like, or perhaps join Mellie and Douvel as they undoubtedly collaborate to stab me in the back," he offered only a token smile at that, before his eyes lost almost all focus entire and he retreated into the recesses of his own mind, the continued step of his feet, and the occassional hand gesture the only sign he was not merely sleeping with his eyes open.