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  1. #11
    Faraking Island: The Floating Heli'Dome of Alain LeCavalier

    Nalia.jpg

    Nalia al'Vatar



    His chuckle unnerves her. A momentary flash of something dark crosses her face. Darmon had laughed at her after he- when she-

    Nalia violently shoved the thoughts out the center of her mind. Not him. Not now. She shifts on her feet and steps back uneasily as Alain smiles at her. Again, the look of fight or flight. She'd had that look a lot when she was first brought out of Astral. As her time went on and tutelage was split between Darmon and Alain, she displayed this trait the most after having a session with Darmon. Then Alain declares his thoughts on her idea. Nalia looks unsure at his compliments. Her brow furrows over her intense emerald eyes.

    "I want nothing to do with Darmon. This guild will not either. The only thing it will share with Maginus is land."

    She already had a name and a place, but those were not things she picked out, but things that had existed in another lifetime. But Alain's next comment makes her pause. The weight and gravity of his words sends her back a full step.

    "No... No."

    She shakes her head. She cannot lead. She has no experience leading anything, let alone an entire guild. This could fail horribly and then she would be responsible for a multitude of innocent lives. She already had innocent blood on her hands. The whole of Rekōdo knew that. She had thought to put the guild into motion and step back to let someone else lead. She could bow out and leave Rekōdo. Go somewhere and lead a quiet life alone. If she made her own guild, Darmon would destroy her.

    "I cannot lead. I have never-" She struggled for words. "I can't-"

    The idea of undertaking this suddenly seemed overwhelming. She was about to openly defy and rebel against one of the most powerful men in Rekōdo. Nalia's face paled.

    She had to. She had to defy Darmon or he would win and he would forever own her in ways that no one else could understand. She hoped no one else could understand, but Nalia suddenly got a sickening feeling that she was not Darmon's first conquest and that she would not be his last. She swallowed. The wind at their high altitude blew her curls gently across her bared shoulders.

    "Who would follow me, Master Alain?" she asked quietly, falling back into respectful habits that she only ever showed to him. Never to Darmon. Never. A source of contempt for the older Master. "This Guild, my leadership... it will never be accepted."
    Last edited by SilntAngl5; 06-09-2013 at 08:39 PM.
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  2. #12
    The Great Orange One Qwaring's clone#1 is offline Qwaring's clone#1's Avatar
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    Alain LeCavalier


    The Heli'Dom, On the Faraking Island...

    Alain turns away from Nalia, makes his way past the telescope platform, and stands on a balcony that presents him with the night-blackened sea and the star-filled sky. Alain gazes out at the darkened seascape and twinkling heavens as he leans against the stone railing of the balcony. He inhales the scents of the ocean as he recalls a time from long ago.

    "When I was seventeen, I worked as a fighter in underground boxing matches. It was run and operated by a crime syndicate that ran the slums of Clow at the time. We fought out of back alleys and warehouses, while men from the slums bet on the outcome of the fights. My power allowed me to effortlessly win or lose the fights, whichever would earn my employers the most money from the gamblers." Alain reveals all of this with no shame. He has done nothing to hide his past from the world, but at the urging of Clow and other advisors, he rarely speaks of it. Unless she has sought out this information on her own, Nalia would not yet have been informed of this part of Alain's history.

    "I had lost my job of scrubbing the floors in a local blacksmiths shop. My grandfather had fallen deathly ill and we were living on the streets without a single copper coin between us... Becoming a brawler gave us a roof over our heads and put food on our table." Alain closes his eyes and tilts his head slightly as he focuses on silencing Clow before the spirit can object to Alain sharing this story. Those who have spent a great deal of time with Alain might recognize this expression of slightly annoyed concentration. Eventually, Alain opens his eyes and returns to calmly speaking.

    "This is the state that the Ancestral Spirit of Taroc found me in when it sought a new host. Keep in mind, his previous host had been murdered in the initial assault by Maginus, which started the Great War for Taroc. The Second of Taroc was a traitor, who had been working with Maginus for decades. And the spirit rightly feared that Maginus sought to either capture him or destroy him. When he came to me, it wasn't because I was the best choice for the next Guild Master. He came to me because my combat sense would give him the best chance to evade or deflect attacks. I was chosen to be his bodyguard until a better host could be found."

    "My first day as host ended with me losing my arm in battle. That injury took all fight out of me, and my limp body had to be dragged out of the city by the retreating Taroc forces that were loyal to the spirit and Guild. They carried me across the country side, as I slowly bled my way towards death, and my wound became infected. For days I was ravaged by fever and delirium. My death was certain. The spirit would get his chance to find a better host."

    Alain takes the glove off of his left hand, revealing a hand of solid marble. He holds up the hand. Curls and lines of gold, that run along the surface of the hand, gleam in the moonlight, as Alain turns the hand over, flexing his stone fingers.

    "Then I received this. With it I was granted great strength and renewed health. I would live after all. The spirit was now trapped within me, until I could get myself killed once more. Thus making me the new Guild Master of Taroc. Me, a seventeen year-old, undereducated street brawler, who was paid to beat other men into unconsciousness because I wasn't fit for anything else."

    Now Alain looks at Nalia, trying to read her reaction so far.

    "No one had any reason to follow me. My training in the prophetic arts were scarce at best. Almost all of my lessons in politics amounted to my grandfather telling me to 'avoid that foolishness like the plague.' I had essentially lost my first battle as the spirits new host. I nearly died on my first day, while all of Taroc burned around me."

    Alain holds up the index finger of his right hand, as if calling for a pause in both his narrative and the thoughts it must bring about in his audience of one. "But they did follow me. They didn't do it because of the spirit that I housed. They didn't do it out of any sense of tradition. They did it because I now had the fire in my soul. For the first time in my life I felt the drive, the will to fight. As a boxer I fought to earn money. But now I had to fight because that's why I drew breath. My heart beat simply to give me the strength to smite the invaders of sweet Taroc. Every part of my being was dedicated to the task of driving Maginus back and freeing my land from our oppressors."

    "From that day forth I would have fought to safeguard Taroc, whether anyone else aided me or not. Even if I had to strike down every invading warlock with my own hands, I gladly would have done it. And it is that fire within my soul that others were drawn to. Those who felt the same as I were compelled to follow. Any who desired freedom became my allies. All who wished to see their lost loved ones avenged, took up arms for my cause. It was not the man they were pledging their undying loyalty to, it was what that man was driven to do."

    Alain's upheld finger now points towards Nalia, not accusingly, but in emphasis to his words, "If the fire to do what you say you will do burns within your heart, others will follow you. You are wiser, better educated, more powerful and greater focused than the Alain LeCavalier of seventeen was. If he could take an all but conquered Taroc, free it and return it to its former glory, you can build and lead a new Guild. All you need is that fire."
    Last edited by Qwaring's clone#1; 02-20-2013 at 08:02 PM.

  3. #13
    Faraking Island: The Floating Heli'Dome of Alain LeCavalier

    Nalia.jpg

    Nalia al'Vatar



    The winds whips Nalia's curls as she watches him go. As he begins to unwind his story, one that she knew must be terribly personal for him, Nalia begins to follow him. She does not take quite the same rout, but rather travels the long way around the massive telescope's base. Her fingers drift along the cold metals and alloys that make up the scope's body, but the entire time, her emerald eyes remain on him. No words are lost. All are committed to memory of him as she knew anything she spoke of concerning her past or character was kept by him. Some of these things he spoke of she knew, through stories she heard in the halls of Taroc's on her allowed visits as a child and through texts she read as she was educated by both Maginus and Taroc's vast libraries. But she did not know about the boxing matches, the underground fights, they back alley gambling, his grandfather. Such things could easily mar one's character as she so easily knew, but Nalia, as she continued to move around the base of the large telescope found herself captivated by it.

    She also remembers when Alain was that young. She was so much younger then, only a little girl barely old enough to wield magik without supervision. Her mind had swept over his at their first meeting, like a cold blanket being laid skin-tight around him before it dissipated. She'd known about the stone arm immediately, but her mind was too wrapped up in the devastation of losing her entire family, her home, everything to think about it fully. A quick flash of gold catches her emerald eyes, eyes which had looked down in memory of the day they met. She had been so frightened then, so hopeless and alone. Could this be much different than that? She looked up at his stone arm as he looked at it in the moonlight. She was around the telescope now, only a few feet away. Her emerald eyes were watching him intently, listening, drinking his story in.

    Freedom from oppressors. Again, there was a shift in young Nalia. The entirety of this time, she had been thinking about herself. She had not given thought to any other. How many other women had Darmon sought for his satisfaction? How many lives were ruined or shamed by his overbearing presence? How badly Nalia wanted to rid herself of Darmon forever, to make him writhe in anger and agony. Death would never suffice. He welcomed death, revered it and treasured it. Killing him would only give him exactly what he ultimately desired, and paint her as the very person the world believed her to be. How many others might follow if she lead? How many others wished for an escape from their prison?

    Nalia's breathing quickened in excitement, an anxiety and with the rapid flow of plans and thoughts that came with these feelings an with Alain's words. Already, she was foreseeing obstacles. The King would be one. He would not stand for such rebellion so close to the end of the Great War. They were barely over a decade from the Treaty of Tradisi, but he was not her primary concern.

    "The other Masters will not acknowledge me or my guild. They will not grant me a seat on the High Council" she thinks aloud as she comes to stand beside him, looking over the ledge of the tower. The quiet island was spread below them with the Faraking Channel just south, the Bay of Rekōdo to the East and the Aisle Bones jutting up like small, dark mountains to the northeast. She smelled the sea air, so different from the sweetly fresh waters she remembered in Astral. Ancient memories, those. Nalia's emerald eyes fixated on the chain of mist-enshrouded islands that dotted the water like splinters of bones.

    "I will need your support. I will look to you for advice" she said quietly and looked from the islands to Alain. The wind caught her curls and whipped them around her bruised face, which was set surely and with determination. Surely, in so little clothes, she must be cold in such a high altitude, but Nalia did not shiver once. She knew what she was asking. Alain's defiance could be enough to start another small war. There was a terrible risk for both of them, but after listening to him, Nalia will not let the feelings of doubt creep in and fracture her resolve.

    "I promise you" she said carefully "I will not strike Darmon. It would give him the justification he needs to destroy us. I will not raise a hand to him, only my voice. I will not draw you and your people into a war that is not yours to fight."

    Nalia felt something within her, something telling her this was right. This was the path to take and the fire to follow that path, to defy Darmon to the fullest and most painful extent burned within the depths of her emerald eyes.
    Last edited by SilntAngl5; 06-09-2013 at 08:39 PM.

  4. #14
    The Great Orange One Qwaring's clone#1 is offline Qwaring's clone#1's Avatar
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    Alain LeCavalier


    The Heli'Dom, On the Faraking Island...

    ~I don't need to look at the stars to predict how terrible this idea is,~ Clow complains within Alain's mind. The spirit allowed Alain his little speech, in order to take the time to try to talk Alain out of supporting this new guild nonsense. At the moment, Clow is considering how this will harm Taroc. Perhaps stepping aside and allowing Nalia and Alain to fail at this will be the only way to put a stop to this notion.

    Alain does his best to ignore Clow's complaint, as he contemplates Nalia's questions and comments.


    "You won't get the support of the council. They're too set in their own ways, and worry too much about things that might upset their own power," Alain shares with Nalia. "But you are not looking for their permission. If you are serious about doing this thing, you must desire to do it despite what others will think."

    Alain looks out over the darkened seascape, inhaling the cool air and pondering the night. "Draw up your plans for the guild. I will advise you as best as I can, and give you access to my library. I happen to have experience in reconstructing a guild after it has been severely crippled by a major war, hopefully that will be useful to you. When you have something substantial developed, we can meet with Mindoka. He will resist the idea, but when you convince him that you are following through with it, he will have no choice but to offer his wisdom. Then it will be up to you to learn from him and win over his support. If you can do that, you will have taken a major step and make it difficult for the rest of the council to directly oppose your work."

    Alain looks back at Nalia. "The council exists to aid the king in his rule and service of Rekōdo. If you can prove to the king that your new guild can be an improvement in this regard, I believe we can gain his support. If not, as long as your guild poses no threat to order and safety, he is unlikely to put a stop to your attempt."

  5. #15
    Faraking Island: The Floating Heli'Dome of Alain LeCavalier

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    Nalia al'Vatar



    Nalia's emerald eyes harden as if they were unbreakable as exotic diamonds. The Council had never approved of her, not from the second she was found. Darmon had told her, lauded it over her head as a reason she should be more grateful to him and his harsh ways, that the High Council had voted upon the idea of Quieting her. Never in the history of Rekōdo had a child been Quieted. The vote was put out and put down, three votes against, two for. He had also mentioned that he was one of the ones who had voted against her Quieting. He had always prodded her to ask Alain what his vote was, but she never needed to ask. She knew.

    She knew as surely as she knew the King of Rekōdo would not oppose her desire to start her own Guild. Darmon and the Council would be her ultimate opposition. Already a plan was forming. A place. An area to focus powers upon. A vision. A future. Something that had as little to do with Darmon as possible.

    "It will be a Guild devoted to the research and unearthing of Totems" she replies automatically as she categorizes and compartmentalizes the ideas and plans that take fruition. She is drawing upon a feat she had already began to undertake herself. She was Astralian by birth. Many of her talents and powers dwelled within their sphere of magikal influence. But she had developed a great talent in deiscovering Totems hidden throughout the more remote parts of Rekōdo. Many were scattered along the Aisle Bones, an area shared by both Maginus and Taroc. An area unpredictable, dangerous to travel to because of the rocky shores, dense fogs and dangerous waters. An area of primal, wild magik from days long since past. Nalia was one of a few people who could find these Totems with little aid, who could detect and sense their ancient presence and unearth their powers without death. It was attributed to her mother, Silvyan al'Vatar, whose ability to tap into the universal energies of the planet itself allowed her to be the great Healer she was. Nalia had inherited that ability to tap into the planet itself. Very few, outside Guild Masters, knew of how to directly reach into it and gain more than their innate abilities gave them.

    "The Totems we'd find would benefit of Rekōdo. You know that I have found Totems that can heal and mend, Totems that can sustain and defend. Totems to allow people access to the World of Dreams. There are so many that remain undefined because so many fear the Aisles and their power. I am not afraid and neither would be my guild. We would only serve as a house for them and a research place until the King and Council appoint more appropriate homes."

    She had already begun developing a system to chart and categorize the Totems she found. She had found her first Totem with Alain when she was a little girl. She had figured out its riddle as simple as s child unlocked a plaything or a puzzle.

    "More importantly, my guild would serve as a safe haven for those Darmon has done harm. No one in Maginus would need to suffer under him if they sought or desired escape. Never again..."

    Nalia's fingers gripped the heavy stone of the tower's ledge. Her hands squeezed it before turning into fists on the cold stone. Her emerald eyes looked down below her, straight down. The wind tossed her hair as she swallowed back the still recent memories and emotions that she'd held under control. Nalia closed her eyes and breathed deeply.

    "Thank you" she whispered to Alain and opened her eyes. "You have always advocated for me since the very beginning."

    She did not look at him as she spoke. Her hands were still in tight fists upon the stone. If she could have it, she would stay up here until the sun rose. She was, by no means, calm beneath her well-beaten exterior, but here she felt safe.

    Safe.

    Nalia had a thought, one that rattled her.

    "Master Alain" she spoke again, quietly. "I am not yet ready to return to Maginus."

    She would not ask him to stay. Her pride would not allow it. If he allowed her to, she would. If he didn't, she would survive as she always had.
    Last edited by SilntAngl5; 06-09-2013 at 08:38 PM.

  6. #16
    The Great Orange One Qwaring's clone#1 is offline Qwaring's clone#1's Avatar
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    Alain LeCavalier


    The Heli'Dom, On the Faraking Island...

    Alain smiles proudly at Nalia as she outlines her plans for this new guild. For too long he has feared what would become of her. In Alain's mind, Darmon's influence always threatened to either corrupt or destroy Nalia's potential. When she first arrived here tonight, Alain believed the worst of his worries had come to pass. Now it seems as if Nalia has passed through the fires of Maginus, and forged herself into something stronger.

    Finding and studying mystical artifacts is a perfect fit. It's something Alain has tried to put into motion a few times over the decades, but has always met with resistance. He is, after all, locked into the role that Taroc fills within the political world. His every action always has a counter-action from rival guilds. A new guild, however, will change all of that. A new guild will force the rest of the council to reassess how they view the world and how they treat the other guilds. The balance of power will shift, and as strategies half form within the depths of Alain's mind, he hopes to shift the balance in positive ways. Yes, Mindoka will need to be brought in on this as soon as possible, with his help Alain and Nalia might actually change the world. Maybe doing good won't have to be an uphill struggle.

    Alain is still smiling as Nalia hints at not having a place to stay. He nods to her.
    "You can consider Taroc your home for as long as you need safe haven. There are guest quarters on the lower floors of the Heli'Dom. The servants are all gone for the night, but every room has animate-furnishings that will follow your commands."

    Alain pauses as he considers Nalia's battered clothes. "In her ongoing quest to improve my fashion sense, Verona imported some wardrobe imps from Astral. Verona tells me they are quite good at summoning cloth and tailoring dresses. I will send some to your room."

  7. #17
    Faraking Island: The Floating Heli'Dome of Alain LeCavalier

    Nalia.jpg

    Nalia al'Vatar



    Nalia's cheeks flushed, adding a beautiful dapple of color to her pale cheeks, but her emerald eyes remained hard. She had forgotten the state of her clothes until now. In everything else that had happened, wearing tattered rags seemed hardly prominent in her conscious mind. The color on her cheeks was the only sign of embarrassment. She inhaled deeply and curtsied to him, though it was stiff and rigid as if it pained her to do so. She bowed her head.

    "Thank you, Master Alain" she whispered quietly. She had bowed so low, she was nearly to his knees. Rising was difficult, but she managed without making a sound.

    "I will leave you to your work" her emerald eyes caught the moonlight and reflected the light back as she turned from him. "Goodnight."

    Already a chorus of impling creatures met her where the stairs began their spiral downward from the tower's peak. She knew of these creatures. Though her mother employed few of them (her father was constantly annoyed by their monkey-like chittering during off hours), the Astralian heritage connected them instantly to her. Already they carried a flurry of night garments for her to pick and choose from. Everything they'd brought her was green. Nights in Astral were cool, but not terribly cold as it was in the desert or mountains. The wore relatively little to bed, a custom that has become a habit even for children as part of their sometimes perverse culture. But this night, because of what was done and because she ached so, Nalia clothes herself with a hint of modesty. The first layer of the thing she wore was tight and a dark, dark green. It was low cut and sleeveless. Her stomach and lower back completely bare in a two-piece fashion. From her hips, the fabric traveled down to her ankles. There was a single slit down the middle for walking and ease during sleep. The second layer was translucent and black. It was loose and hung around her elbows and off her bare shoulders. It sloped low over her tightly clad chest and draped her downward loosely. There were slits along her ribs, from breast to hip, to allow for cooling and sensuality. The sheer, see-through fabric was light and airy, counteracting the tight, form fitting piece beneath. She had no intention of letting anyone see her. She was exhausted and welcomed the thought of being alone at last.

    When she got to her room, things changed. It was a simple and elegant enough room for any guest on Faraking Island. It was equipped with enchanted furniture that seemed to straighten at her presence when she entered. Already, the imps had filled the closets with possible clothing choices, as if they'd planned a summer vacation on the island for her. She had enough clothes to stay for months. There was a window out, so that one could see the island's small castle and bay below as well as the stars above. All of these things were typical of any room. What stopped Nalia was the bed. She stood before it and stared at it. There was nothing about it that reminded her of the massive, dark-wood canopy she woke up within after her failure in the Unsettled Lands. The sheets and quilts were all the red and golds of Taroc. Not a hint of dark blue or black was at all present within the room. The bed itself was large, wide enough for many, and lacked a canopy, but Nalia found herself retreating away from it. Luckily, the enchanted thing had enough sense to stay put, otherwise she would have destroyed it where it stood.

    She could not sleep there. The thought of laying in a bed in a place unfamiliar to her frightened her to the point where she backed up so far that she hit a wall. Darmon could not harm her here. She knew that and mentally chastised herself over and over again, but the sight of him above her, the sound of him preceding it as she woke up marred all the beauty one could find in getting a goods night rest in a cool, comfortable bed. Nalia would not sleep her, not if her mother herself returned from death to sing her an Astralian lullaby with her beautiful voice. Nalia opened the door to her room and her bare feet quickly carried her down the hallway and up the spiraled stone stairs of the tower to the roof where the large telescope allowed a deeper look into the cosmos where Liar'Adon and Deanna resided with the Ancestors of their world. If Alain was headlong into work, as she belated thought he might be, she would not disturb him. But her bare footsteps made no sound on the cold stone ground as she cleared the stairwell. If the imps were about, she mentally commanded them to hush and not disturb Alain. Instead, she crept to the couches where they'd sat earlier. She did not take the time to put ay salve on her wounds. She wanted to feel them, to remember what happened and let it fuel her desire to leave Maginus once and for all. Nalia sat upon one of the long couches and pulled her legs up close to her chest. As she grew more comfortable, she shifted to lay there, feet bare as Astralians preferred, and watched Alain work. Her long curls were down for the night and blowing freely in the cool night air. It was here, under the stars of the heavens that Nalia found enough peace to rest. Here with the man who had always protected her in sight. When he was done with his work, he would see her there, sleeping deeply upon the sofa. It was the most peaceful she would have ever looked, more so than ever when she was awake. There were no dreams to trouble her, no nightmares of shadows moving over her to wake her. Watching Alain, knowing he was there allowed for the deep sleep she so badly needed to come and take her.
    Last edited by SilntAngl5; 06-09-2013 at 08:38 PM.

  8. #18
    The Province of Taroc in Far Western Rekōdo: The Floating Heli'Dom of Faraking Island.

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    Nalia al'Vatar


    Nalia had slept for days without waking or eating. She had been carried back to her room within the floating tower of the Floating Heli'Dom on Faraking Island. She had slept as if she had not done so in days. In sleep so deep and encompassing, Nalia looked to be in utter peace. Here, in Taroc, she felt safe and dreamed of being born of these people. Even if that were true, they would view her the same. Every one in Rekōdo knew her story: she killed her entire family, massacred them in cold blood when she was only a child. She did not dream of such people or their thoughts. Nalia's rest was earnest and deserved. When she did finally wake if Alain came to check on her, he would find her gone. Her presence would be scattered for days after her discussion with the Guild Master of Taroc. For the most part she avoided Maginus and Darmon, which left the Aged Guild Master fuming. On several occasions he sent angry invoice to Alain in the form of a poor gargoyle messenger, who had not been spared the burning ink of the letter. By the time it would arrive to Clow, it's stone feet were smoking and charred a pitiful black from the smoking parchment. Sometimes its claws were white hot from the fury of Darmon's rage and not knowing where Nalia was. He'd even gone so far as to state that she would be hunted down like a cursed beast by his Dragon Knights and put-down for what he considered to be an act of treason against Maginus.

    And Rekōdo, of course.

    On occasion, Nalia would appear briefly in the extensive libraries of Clow or of Faraking's strong fortress. Sometimes she left notes for Alain, telling him where she was, secretly in code of her progress.

    "Aisles to the East" she had written to him once. A location for the place she would make her own for the better of Rekōdo. The Aisle Bones were owned by no man or province. Neither Maginus or Taroc had ever laid claim to them. They were always covered in mist, dangerous to navigate and rumored to be haunted by the souls of the damned trapped within the Aisle Wolves, beasts as large as a grown man. The Aisles were full of creatures and Wild Magik that not even Darmon of Maginus could smite out easily. But for Nalia, this place was perfect. The perfect place to hide, to live in mystery and quietude and peace. The perfect haven for those in need. They would not be bothered there. They would not be challenged there. Already, in seeking out Totems which was her trade and skill between Maginus and Taroc, she was drawn there by the wildness and the vast amount of ruins and objects there. It was where Capria of Enchantry had once made their home, scattered among the aisles. Where or which islands was not entirely known to her, but Nalia thought there would be no better place to re-start a Guild that so few knew of than where its home once was.

    When she was ready, days later, she presented her information to Alain. She told him everything. Everything that he would be able to understand; everything but the knowledge in the book. Of what the Guild's skill set would be, their use in finding Totems for King and country. They would test them and catalog their use. How theirs would be a neutral location for all the provinces to come and research the vast collection and library she'd already begun. Her guild would be a safe haven, offering sanctuary for those who needed it. She presented everything in the name of peace and providing better balance for their world. Her Guild would not interfere with the power or rights of any others, but would merely be a place of wisdom, safety and research to preserve the past with the future in mind. On a map of the Aisle Bones, she stood beside Alain and pointed to a single island.

    "Capios" she said quietly as if breathing the name would spoil everything. Her emerald eyes were alive with fire, burning liquid green around her jet black pupils. "I will call my island Capios."

    It was the third largest of the Aisles, if one did not count Faraking among them. She breathed quickly as she told him the name for the island and watched him. He was the first person she'd told this name and she waited to see if there was a hint of recognition, a glimmer of memory that had been stripped from the minds of all of Rekōdo. There would be none, she knew in her heart of hearts.

    "Do you think what I seek to achieve is accomplishable? Can it be done?"

    Nalia's young eyes looked up at Alain from the map, seeking to pull honesty from him with the depth of her emerald gaze. Her hands were splayed on the table where the map was unfurled, touching the parchment lightly as if divining from its old script. She held her breath as she finished. So much more than he knew hinged on the things she was planning. So much more was weighted on the words of his response. Their actions would change the course of Rekōdo's history forever
    Last edited by SilntAngl5; 06-09-2013 at 08:38 PM.

  9. #19
    The Great Orange One Qwaring's clone#1 is offline Qwaring's clone#1's Avatar
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    Alain LeCavalier


    The Heli'Dom, On the Faraking Island...

    By the end of that first night, as the floating isles are bathed in the warm touch of dawn, the servants return to the Heli'Dom. Eventually the structure is once more occupied by those who are dedicated to the maintenance and usage of telescopes and surrounding facilities. Though, Alain instructs his servants and mystics to give his guest as much space and privacy as is possible while also being close enough to offer Nalia assistance, should she ask for it.

    The days roll on, and Alain sets his celestial and prophetic work aside in order to focus his attention on the bureaucracies and decision making that are necessary to keep the land and guild of Taroc alive and vital. Along with this renewed responsibility comes Alain's ever-loyal aide, Verona Aliestra. Verona is a slender, graceful woman with metallic-silver hair, pale blue eyes and an elegant gown befitting the personal assistant to a high-councilor of Rekōdo. Verona is rarely far from Alain's side, with her pad of paper and pencil dutifully in her hands, waiting to write down instructions for recording and later implementation.

    Alain works primarily within the Heli'Dom over the passing days. In the daylight hours he focuses his attention towards matters of state, but at night his focus is held by the stars above and the secrets that can be deciphered from them. Part of his split attention is granted to the occasional message from Nalia. Alain leaves himself free enough from his duties to offer Nalia any advice or assistance she might ask for, but he does nothing else to speed along her progress. He knows that the challenges that lie ahead of Nalia must be overcome by her alone if they are to matter. Building a new guild should be a terrible challenge and constant burden, that will ensure strength in the guild and its leader.

    Darmon's gargoyle messengers would be sent back to their master with letters written by Verona and stamped with the official seal of the Guild Master of Taroc. Each reply assures Darmon that if a search is required for Nalia, then Taroc will conduct such a search within its own borders, while Maginus is legally bound to conduct any of its own searches within the borders of Maginus. The replies don't mention that Alain knows there's no need for any such searches, because he can contact Nalia at any time and can find her easily on any one of her return trips to Taroc. These replies to Darmon essentially amount to wasted paper with enough writing on them to let Darmon know that his messages are being received, but aren't likely to gain him any information.

    Finally, within Alain's personal observatory chamber, where Nalia first brought the idea of her new guild to Alain, Nalia is presenting her initial plans as well as maps of the future home for her guild. They have the room all to themselves, as Verona and the Heli'Dom's servants have been instructed to give Nalia and Alain privacy until instructed otherwise. Alain sits at a table with various documents and maps spread across its top. His chin rests in his right hand as he sits motionlessly. Winged lanterns hover above Nalia, the table and Alain, illuminating the presented documents. Alain has been silent during Nalia's presentation. He has presented her with no responses or emotions as he simply absorbs and assesses what Nalia has brought to him. There is honestly no reaction to the name of Capios.

    When Nalia finally asks the emotionless Alain for his thoughts, he rises from his chair and walks away from the map and document covered table. He slowly makes his way to a bay of very tall windows and gazes out over the ocean. Now, with his back to Nalia, he allows his apathetic fašade slip for a moment, and he enjoys a brief, proud smile. He's only able to half hide the smile as he turns away from the window and looks upon Nalia once more.


    "Excellent work," Alain compliments Nalia. "I don't see any flaws with the location or the mechanics of the guild. If you can get it up and operating, as you've described it here, this will be a thing of beauty."

    Alain approaches Nalia. His smile broadens.

    "All you will need to do is overcome any resistance to the idea that the king or council might possess, and gain the support of those that will join your guild. If you can overcome those hurdles, I feel your guild will succeed."

  10. #20
    The Province of Taroc in Far Western Rekōdo: The Floating Heli'Dom of Faraking Island.

    Nalia.jpg

    Nalia al'Vatar


    Nalia watches with baited breath as Alain rises. She straightens from bending over the table where she pointed out locations among the Aisles in great detail. Her emerald eyes were wide, worried as she watched Alain. So much of his opinion mattered here. She knew that, without his support, the idea of the Enchantry Guild being recreated would never come to pass. She waits respectfully in the silence for him to pass judgement on her plans. When he turns, she catches the fading traces of a smile. But she does not breathe, not until he speaks. She allows herself to exhale deeply and hang her head. her hands brace her body on the map-strewn table. The extent of her work was taxing and mentally exhausting. But the sound of his voice draws her head back up. She pushes aside loose strands of dangling curls from the youthful angles of her face as her emerald eyes look up at him. They harden when he mentions resistance. This was the only snag of her plan.

    "I cannot count on the approval of Maginus" she whispers fiercely. One of her hands balls into a dangerously tight fist on the table. For a moment, she is so consumed by a memory that brings her unbearable anger and pain that she stops speaking. She looks down at her maps, at the anger contained within one small, elegant fist and then looks back up at Alain. Her emerald eyes burn with that passionate anger that fuels her desire to be free of Darmon and the name of Maginus forever. To provide that freedom to others to spite Darmon and create something better than the political nonsense that consumes Rekōdo.

    "Astral will follow the behind the shadow of Da'Jinn's wake. Jinai may approve if only to have another female counterpart on the Council. She can use my presence of power to counteract the traditional ways of the clans of the desert... If she can be convinced that Enchantry can be an ally and source of good for Da'Jinn, then perhaps Astral will follow suit. The outlier is Shamaa."

    And here, she looks to Alain. Nalia had no idea how to sway the people of Shamaa. They were as skeptical of her as she was of their acceptance. Mindoka was cautious of her and the dark power she harbored.

    "The King will not pose a problem" of this she sounded entirely sure, oddly, more sure than convincing the Council. Slowly, the tight fist on the table began to unclench. Nalia straightened.

    "I know you are taking a risk" she said to Alain in a voice that was quiet and gentle. "The last thing I want is for danger to befall the people of Taroc. You- They... They have been the most tolerant of my presence of all the provinces."

    Her hands clenched at her side, but not so hot with anger as the mention of Darmon and Maginus gave her.

    "I must do this, even if it means you must forsake your involvement with me for the good of Taroc. I must do this, even if it is alone. Darmon cannot be allowed to-" Nalia's fists balled instantly at the mention of the man's name. She stopped herself short, momentarily flustered by the onset of extreme emotions the tail end of her sentence brought on. Her cheeks reddened and for a brief second, her eyes had that entirely lost, hopeless look that she'd arrived at Faraking with only days before. It was briefly lived as those feelings and whatever brought them to the surface were quickly and adeptly buried beneath layers and layers of impenetrable mental walls. She softened again, calming her raging temper.

    "There are people who cannot grasp the freedom they seek without my leadership. I must try."

    Nalia looked up at Alain with her intent emerald eyes. Behind her, the moon hit the water and reflected it upward toward the tower. The gulls had ceased their cries at sundown. Now the sound of night hawks echoed between the floating towers. The moonlight on the water shone between the curls on her head.

    "I must go to Shamaa. I must start there."

    She tilted her head just so and the light of the moon touched her pale ivory skin, casting light and shadow upon bare arms and cloak-covered shoulders. She always wore her cloak. There was only the one time, when she came to him after her trials, that she had no cloak. She looked as if she wanted to ask him to go with her, but she could not afford weakness. Not now.

    "I will speak of your advocacy for me, with your permission."

    It might be enough. It had to be. She could not ask him to go with her. If Mindoka refused her, his word at the Council could get Alain in trouble. Darmon could spin it into a tail of treason. She could not allow him to harm Alain. She refused to allow it. She wouldn't-

    Nalia found there was a tightness in her chest. She held her breath, because there was none to breathe. her emerald eyes remained fastened on Alain.

    "I cannot ask you to come with me. I cannot endanger you so" she said to him in a soft, barely audible voice. "If your stars accept prayers or wishes, wish me luck on one of your stars, that I might survive this and some good might come of my actions just this once."
    Last edited by SilntAngl5; 06-09-2013 at 08:37 PM.

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