VI: A 1001 Nagarathi Nights...

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Aicanor
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Re: VI: A 1001 Nagarathi Nights...

#61 Post by Aicanor »

It was a little ungentlemanly (is that a word?) to throw the weight of the Inquiry at Ailana. Another Eataini trait Elithmar can add to his signature? :lol:
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Re: VI: A 1001 Nagarathi Nights...

#62 Post by Elessehta of Yvresse »

Am I seeing the beginnings of a pattern here, First Eataine, then Yvresse attacked, the two richest kingdoms atm...
[url=http://www.ulthuan.net/forum/viewtopic.php?f=5&t=34506][i]Lord Elessehta Silverbough of Ar Yvrellion, Ruler of Athel Anarhain, Prince of the Yvressi.[/i][/url]
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Re: VI: A 1001 Nagarathi Nights...

#63 Post by Malossar »

All part of the plan...
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Re: VI: A 1001 Nagarathi Nights...

#64 Post by Prince of Spires »

Malossar Dragonborne wrote:All part of the plan...
Question is of course, whos plan...?

And all elves are always up to no good. Spires is just better at it then the average elf ;)

Enjoy the coconuts...

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Re: VI: A 1001 Nagarathi Nights...

#65 Post by rvd1699 »

Looking forward to this more than The Winds of Winter and the wait is almost as long!
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Re: VI: A 1001 Nagarathi Nights...

#66 Post by Headshot »

Welcome rvd! Always good to know that someone outside my handful of virtual friends is enjoying these Nagarathi tall tales. :)

Oh and now that I am back from vacation I will try and pick up the pace….

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Re: VI: A 1001 Nagarathi Nights...

#67 Post by Elithmar »

Aicanor wrote:It was a little ungentlemanly (is that a word?) to throw the weight of the Inquiry at Ailana. Another Eataini trait Elithmar can add to his signature? :lol:
Done. ;)

Hmm, another death. The colonials may not be able to solve one murder, but they even can't prevent another from happening! :roll:
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Re: VI: A 1001 Nagarathi Nights...

#68 Post by rvd1699 »

I don't think its Dark elves (not entirely sure there were any there to begin with) doing the killing, a magical creature rather than flesh and blood
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Re: VI: A 1001 Nagarathi Nights...

#69 Post by Karalael Moonsinger »

Am I the only one getting worried for Tytus right about now, Eataine and Yvresse are down, surely Saphery is next?
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Besides, the battle of Finuval Plain was more a minor skirmish anyway. A good enough summary would have been "Teclis and Malekith ran into each other. Teclis cast The Dwellers Below on Malekith with IF, and Malekith failed his Strength test." Not much more to it then that really.[/quote]
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Re: VI: A 1001 Nagarathi Nights...

#70 Post by Headshot »

Part 7 – The Sanatorium


Ailana stomped down the corridor. She was feeling positively surly.

“That was no fair trick you played on me, Eataini!” she snarled.

Lothello, hurrying to keep pace with her, did her the courtesy to look sheepish for a moment, then said, “It was no trick, my lady.” He quickly added, “I am no Seeker. Nor Seneschal. I know nothing of law or investigations. I captain a ship. I can wield a blade, certes! But….” Then with a shake of his head, “I use the stars to navigate by, not to divine the truth of things!”

Ailana pursed her lips and glared at him sideways. “It is not that different,” she grumbled. But the Eataini was looking at her with so much sincerity of innocence, feigned or otherwise, she couldn’t help but be impressed.

It was a masterstroke, she conceded to herself. Maybe there was some truth to Lothello’s words – that he did believe himself in over his head in the investigation. Yet by offering the position – no demanding the position of her! – he cleverly forced her into the occupation which meant that it would be that much more difficult to undertake her own negotiations for the ithilmar while the Eatainian was otherwise occupied. That couldn’t have been a coincidence to the ship captain’s offer.

She would’ve been impressed by the subtlety of the move….if it didn’t have her in such a bind. She was caught between her pride in her starseer abilities, and the duty to her House.

She abruptly stopped. Forcing Lothello to come to a stumbling stop alongside. She gave him an appraising look.

“Alright Lothello,” she began slowly. “I will help with this matter on two conditions.” She waited and watched his face take a wary cast. “First, you swear upon your House’s honor to not conduct negotiations with the colonials while we are both engaged in the inquiry.”

The Eataini nodded, looking relieved. A small smile began on his features. She moved quickly then.

“Second,” she hastened to add.

“You tell me what was in your brother’s missive satchel.”

The smile fell from his face. “I know not what you are speaking about,” he said carefully.

Ailana turned on her heels, and began to stride back towards her chambers. She counted the paces….

She had made it to six when Lothello’s voice rang out, “Documents! Copies of documents from Lothern!”

Ailana stopped, and turned slowly. The Eatainian captain approached her and stood close, in a whisper he added, “It was utmost secret. We acquired them from the archivist at the royal palace before beginning the voyage.”

Ailana frowned. “What did those documents say?”

Lothello hesitated for one moment, then in an even smaller voice continued, “They were copies of the Colonial Charter, between the Crown and the now-called House of Spires.” Ailana watched him carefully; the Eatainian looked clearly uncomfortable. “My brother told me that they proved that the Prince of Spires had overstepped his bounds,” he said in a voice barely a whisper, while glancing up and down the empty corridor. “That the original Charter was to be a Defender of the Dragon Isles, which gave him rights to warden the Isles, and the surrounding coast. Only. The Arakis…the interior… none of that was mentioned in the Charter…”

“So the ithilmar…,” Ailana pondered.

“It’s acquisition would be extra-legal. And contestable,” Lothello said with a nod.

And a vast fortune in ore would be up for grabs, Ailana marveled. At least it would be a point of debate in the courts of Lothern. Something that could potentially be argued about for decades; if not centuries. Given the slow pace of Asur litigation….

She eyed Lothello once more. “What was your brother’s plan? To threaten the Minister with the courts?”

“If need be,” the Eatainian answered with a touch of defiance in his voice. “He…we…had hoped it wouldn’t come to that. That we could use the documents merely as leverage to get concessions in the trade treaty. But…my brother did say if necessary we could force the litigation and potentially…. Well, potentially ask for a colonial charter to the Arakis ourselves!”

“I see,” Ailana said slowly. A scheme fit for an Eataini, she grudgingly thought, citing the old expression. Then she frowned:

“Where are the documents now?”

“I do not know!” Lothello responded with a helpless gesture. “I…I searched the chambers both shortly after I found my brother’s body. And again the other night…”

“It was you I saw! Last night before the Yvressi’s death!”

“Yes…I… I had hoped to search some of the hiding places my brother typically used when he traveled, in his robes and personal effects. But…but I found nothing! I swear it!”

Ailana scowled and studied the Eatainian’s face for a long minute. He could be telling the truth…. But it was impossible to tell with that lot. Still if he did not have them, then who…?

The colonials were the most obvious to benefit. They stood the most to lose after all. But would they be so clumsy as to murder and steal evidence implicating themselves? The Minister did not strike her as a desperate elf. Though given the wealth buried beneath the sands….

Or perhaps, he had orders that came from higher?

That was a disturbing thought. If the murder… Murders…. Were the result of a conspiracy, then they were all in danger. Especially those who played the role of Seeker.

Meaning… me, she thought with a sick feeling in her stomach. Now what to do?

She took a deep breath, and then began striding down the corridor once more. Lothello hurried to catch up.

“My lady Ailana? Where? Where are we headed?”

“To the Minister’s office,” she answered. “We still know too little about these murders to divine a motive. The pattern has not been woven. Yet. And with the Yvressi captain’s death, there is no time to conduct the standard seer gaze. We are in danger now. We need results. And soon. Or more may follow.”

“Then what will we do?” Lothello asked.

“The captured Druchii escaped just before these murders began to happen. That can’t be just coincidence.”

“But I thought you said-?”

“I know what I said,” Ailana snapped back. “And it is still true. But we are running out of time! And we cannot ignore the obvious.”

“No. We must speak with this remaining Druchii,” she finished, grimly.

***

It was late in the evening hour. The burning Arakis sun had long set, ushering in the chilling lavenders and greys of the desert night. Ailana stood in the courtyard beneath the Tyr Wadi. It was the first time she had left the tower’s confines in over two days, she was surprised to realize. But somehow didn’t regret that turn of events. The courtyard stunk of the desert pack beasts; their feed and offal. It was a scent that she had become accustomed to in her long travel across the desert wastes, and one that she was not in a hurry to re-familiarize herself with.

Standing nearby were Tytus, as always, and Lothello. Both looking especially grim. Both dressed in full armor, and equipped with long blades and daggers. And in front of her stood the scar-faced Warden of the Tower, Harkonn, with two of the colonial sentries. Harkonn stood facing the isolated stone doors set into the barren earth behind the tower that she had wondered about that first night. He pulled a heavy brass key from within his robes and inserted it into the heavy steel lock within the door. A harsh, clear rasp rang out into the desert night as the key turned. The sentries moved to either side of the doors, and with crowbars began to pry and lift the stone panels, as if they were sarcophagus covers. At last the doors slid into place, creaking and groaning upon heavy steel hinges, and a waft of a foul, foul odor escaped into the night air. It stunk of charcoal and sweat. And something else…?

Ailana covered her nose and shivered in the icy air. The Minister had been reluctant to grant her an audience with the Druchii at first, but had relented under pressure of obstructing a Seeker in their duties. He had sent her here. To this place.

“This is…?” she began.

“The Sanatorium,” Harkonn answered shortly. “Come.”

He took a torch from one of the sentries and with the other in tow descended into the darkness of the earth. The remaining sentry waited atop, spear in hand, and looked at her with a fearful expression. Clearly pleased to not be the one going below.

Ailana swallowed, and then stepped forward. Only to have Tytus place a hand upon her shoulder. He held her back while he advanced before her. She followed quick on his heels; Lothello taking up the rear of the party.

The air was thick and acrid, and the dark was palpably present. She could see little ahead of her but the glow of the torch carried by the Warden, and a surrounding bubble of illuminated rock and steps. The stone was rough hewn and black; only the steps below showed the care of Asur hands, carved carefully as they wound down, down into the darkness. The tiny patch of starlight above dwindled into nothingness as they descended and soon could not be seen at all. Finally the steps ended. In the torchlight ahead, Ailana could see the iron bars of a closed gate. Harkonn handed his torch to the sentry and stepped to the bars, hands producing a second key from within his robes.

“What is this place?” her voice came out as a whisper, fearful sounding in the dark.

“The Sanatorium,” Harkonn answered. “Is a hospital.” He adjust the key in his hand. Then said, “And a prison.”

“A prison? For whom?” Lothello spoke, his voice too sounded smaller than normal.

Instead of answering directly, the colonial Warden pressed key into lock, grunting with the effort to get metal upon metal to turn. Finally a click, and with a mighty shriek, the bars opened.

“The jungles of Ind are a fearsome place,” the Warden then said, and stared into the black corridor beyond. “There are…things… there, that could be scarce imagined by the peoples of Ulthuan. Deadly, ancient things. In the trees. In the water. In the ground. In the very air you breathe.” He took the torch from the sentry and held it high, using the light to try to penetrate the darkness of the tunnel sloping down into the earth. It was a feeble attempt. After a moment he continued. “The jungle has been known to take an elf’s soul, but leave him alive. A husk of a creature, raving and mad. Found wandering on the outskirts of the camps and forts of the interior. Sometimes covered in blood. Sometimes not his own….”

He began walking down the tunnel. After several seconds the others moved to follow.

“No magic can heal the broken mind and returned that which is now lost,” the Warden continued. “And so a broken body, with a face of an Asur…sometimes the face of a friend…remains, but the mind and spirit is gone. Just the body…. The body, and the hunger of living…. They are too dangerous to keep in the city. The madness of the Ind is too volatile, too penetrating. It spreads and catches, driving each it touches into the hunger in turn…”

They followed along behind the grim warrior as he walked. Now Ailana could hear other sounds, cries and whimpers from the darkness. Soft, as if far and muffled by stone. But the sounds had a way of creeping up on her, touching her, like a whisper upon the back of her neck.

“But the folk of Ulthuan need their herbs and spices. Need their reagents and ingredients for their spells and potions. And so we of the City keep venturing into the jungles. Keep harvesting within the old growths. And we keep dying. And sometimes, not quite dying…not all the way. Or go raving mad, by venom and miasma of the forest….”

“And so the mad are sent here? To the heart of the Arakis?” Lothello whispered.

“Aye. The desert is an even greater barrier to the madness than these stone walls. Though it is no innocent itself,” the Warden snorted. “The bite of the Arakis beetle is known to drive an Asur mad through fever and pain.”

In the silence that followed, Lothello muttered, “We Asur do not belong here.”

“And yet we remain,” Harkonn gruffly responded. “As the Empire wills.”

The cries were getting louder now. More like fingers stroking her cheeks then a breath upon the nape of her neck. She could here the voices. The mumbling. Eerie laughter, and a solitary mouth screaming. Hideous in its pitiable tone. As the corridor turned they passed the first door – heavy wood with iron fittings; a small gated slot at its base. Inside came a gurgling sound. And nothing more. Just that: incessant gurgling.

“They…they are cared for?” Ailana whispered.

“They are fed and watered, by we of the garrison. That is one reason for our presence here. There is little else we can do for them.”

The next door came upon them and Ailana could see the fingers of a woman’s hand, sticking through the bars. Long thin and delicate, the fingers scratched at the stone floor of the passage at the base of the door.

“An elf woman!” Lothello cried.

Harkonn looked at the door with a pained expression, then said, “The jungle spares no one.” Then he continued onwards without another word.

Door after door came and passed. Some were filled with cries and shouts; others with only a black silence. Some spoke or sang old songs, familiar to Ailana from her childhood. One they came upon and heard a pitying wail:

“Please! Please! Help me!! I am not mad!! I am Kayl’Vin’s brother! The Prince of Spire’s is my brother!!! Please!! Please!!! I am not mad!! Please help me!!!”

“Ignore him,” Harkonn said. “Sometimes he claims to be the Everqueen.” And then he passed on. The others followed and the despair filled cries faded into the black behind them.

At last they came to a door and the tower Warden stopped before it, once more producing his keys. “This was the most secure place to keep the Druchii,” he muttered and fit the key into the lock.

“There were two yes?” Lothello asked. “Both down here?”

Harkonn nodded.

“How did the other escape?” Ailana gasped.

“We do not know.”

“Is there any other way out of these tunnels then the entrance above?”

“No. The tunnels run ever deeper, but they end,” Harkonn answered. “It was in their excavation that we first discovered the hints of the ithilmar.”

For some reason knowing that sent another shiver down Ailana’s spine. As if the very metal itself was tainted with the madness of this place.

But then the door came open, revealing a black pit of a chamber. In the torchlight they could see little but unworked rock and the grime upon it. The air stank of sweat and waste. Harkonn entered. As the pool of light spread further into the chamber, Ailana could make out a silhouette of a figure in the wan yellow glow. The figure was bound in cords and chains, and lay supine upon its side.

The Warden strode up to the side of the figure and put a boot into it. “Speak, black elf!” the colonial snarled. “How did your companion escape?! Where is he now?!”

Silence was the only reply. The Warden swore and put his boot back into the figure. “I will make you speak, dark elf!”

Then a small, raspy voice declared:

“Harder elves than you have tried….”

The scar-faced colonial swore once more and kicked the figure twice where it lay unmoving on the ground.

“I will have none of your defiance, Druchii!!”

The Warden aimed another kick, but this time before the blow landed the figure shifted to one side, so that the colonial’s boot sailed harmlessly past. As the Warden staggered to regain his balance, the supine figure turned and faced them. Bright gray eyes stared from out of the blackness, and the raspy voice said:

“I am no Druchii!”

The eyes seemed to burn into Ailana like a cold fire. Holding her, transfixed.

“I am Narrin’Tim….”

“…Shadow Warrior of the Host of Nagarythe!”


***
Last edited by Headshot on Thu Nov 21, 2013 9:43 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Re: VI: A 1001 Nagarathi Nights...

#71 Post by Elithmar »

If the "Druchii" were actually Nagarathi, that would explain how one of them escaped. :P
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Re: VI: A 1001 Nagarathi Nights...

#72 Post by Elessehta of Yvresse »

Oh snap!
[url=http://www.ulthuan.net/forum/viewtopic.php?f=5&t=34506][i]Lord Elessehta Silverbough of Ar Yvrellion, Ruler of Athel Anarhain, Prince of the Yvressi.[/i][/url]
[quote="Narrin’Tim"]These may be the last days of the Asur, but if we are to leave this world let us do it as the heroes of old, sword raised against evil![/quote]
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Re: VI: A 1001 Nagarathi Nights...

#73 Post by Aicanor »

Elithmar wrote:If the "Druchii" were actually Nagarathi, that would explain how one of them escaped. :P
It explains a lot, but it still doesn't explain the murders... #-o

And I like your new signature, Elithmar. :wink:
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Re: VI: A 1001 Nagarathi Nights...

#74 Post by rvd1699 »

I think we know who the second elf is ...
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Re: VI: A 1001 Nagarathi Nights...

#75 Post by Prince of Spires »

I think it's safe at least to say that it's all the fault of someone other then the colonials. I blame all the other kingdoms for putting the colonials in this position...

It does explain why the Nagarathi were absent from the negotiations. They were simply locked up down below...

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Re: VI: A 1001 Nagarathi Nights...

#76 Post by Headshot »

rdghuizing wrote:They were simply locked up down below..
Enjoying their stay in the scenic colonies! And the five-star accommodations of Spire's asylum/gulag, replete with the occasional beating.

No mention if cookies - chocolate or otherwise - were on the menu.
rdghuizing wrote:It does explain why the Nagarathi were absent from the negotiations.
That. And they have no money. #-o
rdghuizing wrote:I blame all the other kingdoms
As in this, as in all things:



I blame Rod.




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Re: VI: A 1001 Nagarathi Nights...

#77 Post by Prince of Spires »

Headshot wrote:
rdghuizing wrote:They were simply locked up down below..
Enjoying their stay in the scenic colonies! And the five-star accommodations of Spire's asylum/gulag, replete with the occasional beating.

No mention if cookies - chocolate or otherwise - were on the menu.
Ah, quite right. The cookies were being used to charm the lovely elf maidens taking part in the negotiations... though I'm sure there are a few for Tim now that the error was discovered. All is forgotten, best friends again and all that. I do hope they enjoyed their stay.
Headshot wrote:
rdghuizing wrote:It does explain why the Nagarathi were absent from the negotiations
That. And they have no money.
Spires accepts more than just money. Enough need for labor, cannon fodder ( ;) ) and exclusive trade agreements. Just imagine being the only one allowed to trade with a whole kingdom. There is definatly money to be made there... ;) Though what they would do with raw ithilmar, god knows. Not much industry to speak of in Nagarithe.

And blaming me is perfectly fine (seems to happen to me a lot). Just keep writing, or we'll send you to the basement to a company Tim, chop chop ;)

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Re: VI: A 1001 Nagarathi Nights...

#78 Post by Headshot »

rdghuizing wrote:Nagarithe.
Closer! But still no cigar! It's 'Nagarythe'. Keep trying! :)
rdghuizing wrote:Just keep writing, or we'll send you to the basement
You know, these stories would come quicker if you could convince the overlords at GW to give me some bags of silver for my efforts! That way I could quit my day job and spend all my 'productive' time sitting next to a Nagarathi camp fire, pen in hand… :D

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Re: VI: A 1001 Nagarathi Nights...

#79 Post by Aicanor »

GW do not even have a Narrin'Tim special model yet. Shame on them!

This reminds me of Shadow Prince's visit to Spires. There were some documents the Nagarathi took from his safe... Could it be that they are now on their way over the desert to Spires? Is Kayl'vin really his name? :D
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Hospital or Sanatorium - extreme kind of euphemism...
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Re: VI: A 1001 Nagarathi Nights...

#80 Post by rvd1699 »

Best way to solve a problem is to bury your head in the sand, or even the person causing the problem :)
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Re: VI: A 1001 Nagarathi Nights...

#81 Post by Elessehta of Yvresse »

Something tells me that Rod is intentionally misspelling that word, just to get a reaction ^_^
[url=http://www.ulthuan.net/forum/viewtopic.php?f=5&t=34506][i]Lord Elessehta Silverbough of Ar Yvrellion, Ruler of Athel Anarhain, Prince of the Yvressi.[/i][/url]
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Re: VI: A 1001 Nagarathi Nights...

#82 Post by Prince of Spires »

@Ele: You're vastly overrating my spelling capabilities. Most of it is just pure guesswork from my part. Going with what looks nice and not based on any rules. So it was just a guess and an honest mistake.

@Headshot: I'll see what I can do for you. ;) Just make sure to pack your raincoat and several pairs of dry socks. Cause you'll be knee deep in mud next to that campfire enjoying the Nagarathi drizzle... Now, if I just knew a GW overlord, I could actually be of service ;)

@Aicanor: Yes it is :) Well spotted.

Rod
For Nagarythe: Come to the dark side.
PS: Bring cookies!

Check out my plog
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Check my writing blog for stories on the Prince of Spires and other pieces of fiction.
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Re: VI: A 1001 Nagarathi Nights...

#83 Post by Headshot »

Aicanor wrote:extreme kind of euphemism...
I think of it more as a metaphor: me, down here in the story section- clearly the black dungeon of the forum - carefully toiling away. Only periodically to be visited by a certain mod, coming from the better lit, more airy regions of the forum; who checks my progress, then gives me a kick or two telling me to get back to work….

Such is life. On ulthuan.net.

:D

Headshot

P.S. now back to the story!
[quote="Seredain"]Headshot, you are wise like Yoda[/quote]
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Re: VI: A 1001 Nagarathi Nights...

#84 Post by Headshot »

Part 8 – The Blue Tower


“This is madness!” the tiny Chracian princess shouted, her face nearly as crimson as her braids.

Word had traveled fast it seemed about what they had found below in the Sanatorium. Ailana was seated in the Minister’s study facing the elven lord’s broad desk, with Lothello alongside, when the door had flung open revealing a flustered looking guard and the clearly irate form of the tiny Chracian, with the flushed Caledorian cripple in tow. Now standing there, tiny fists on hips she seemed halfway between ready to shout the walls down, and hyperventilating.

“You can’t keep Narrin’Tim locked down below!!! You just can’t!!!” she yelled so loudly that the very bookcases of the room appeared to shake.

The Minister calmly dismissed the frazzled guard and then looked to the Chracian.

“Please Lady Tarabeth, calm yourself,” he said in an even tone.

It was morning, and the sun streaming through the open windows upon the ordered books and cluttered miscellany of the room, made an odd contrast to the passion in the little princess’s face: as if someone had broken out in a roar at the heart of the Great Library of Hoeth.

Come to think on it, Ailana mused. Didn’t that happen once? Another Chracian of course. She remembered the bellowing had woken up half the dormitory as the young boy had pranced around on one of the tables, half naked. He said he had found his totem.

Beast mages, she thought, and shook her head.

Not to be deterred, the Chracian maiden continued, at a slightly reduced volume, “I will not! You have my friend in custody in the dungeons below!”

The Minister raised his hands beseechingly. “Please princess!”

“And I-!”

“Please!!”

The girl stopped whatever she was going to say, and simply stood with narrowed eyes, as the Minister adjusted his robes and sat up straighter in his chair.

“Firstly,” he continued. “The Sanatorium is no dungeon. It is a place of seclusion, and healing…as much as we are able.”

“But-!”

“Secondly,” he quickly added. “We do not even know if this person is who he claims. This so called Narrin’Tim, or whatever he said his name was. He was remanded into the Tower’s custody as a Druchii by one of the City’s patrols, and Druchii he remains until proven otherwise!”

“That is easy,” the Caledorian Talossar quickly interjected. “Let us see him. We both know Narrin’Tim and can vouch if he is who he says he is.”

There was a moment of silence after that with the Minister frowning, when Lothello mused aloud:

“After all, who in their right mind goes around claiming to be Nagarathi? That’s like claiming to be the best dressed pig at a Saphery ball. It just isn’t done.”

The Minister shook his head. “I cannot. The miasma is too dangerous. I allowed your lord and ladyship entry under duress.” He gestured to Ailana and Lothello. “I will not see another risked to the dangers of the madness.”

“You can’t keep Narrin’Tim a prisoner!! You just can’t!!” the little Chracian repeated, stomping her foot on the floor. “You must release him at once!!! I demand it!”

Ailana marveled at the girl. What had struck her first about the young maiden was her undeniable beauty: she was like an Avelornian sylph cast small in Chracian leathers and braids, all curves and alabaster skin. But seeing her now, with ruddy cheeks and furrowed brow, she bore more of a resemblance to one of those ancient carvings found on the borders of Avelorn; the ones that depict the guardian spirits of the forest in full wrath.

“I can and I will,” the minister responded calmly. “I’m afraid your demands hold no power over me, Lady Tarabeth.” He settled back into his chair and eyed the tiny figure before him carefully. “Perhaps things are different in Chrace, but the City of Spires is a kingdom governed by laws. I will follow the laws of my City and my Prince.”

“You don’t understand,” the Chracian said sharply. “If you hold him here… If you keep Narrin’Tim in bondage…” She spoke slowly and clearly, despite her heavy breathing. “Then the others will learn of it….”

“…. And they will come.”

The Minister looked at her quizzically.

“The Nagarathi!” she exclaimed. “They will surely come here to find him! And if you do not release him you will call down a wrath upon your head the likes of which you can scarcely imagine!”There were almost tears in her eyes as she added,

“Please, believe me! I know!!”

The hunchbacked Caledorian was nodding fervently at her side.

But the Minister was not moved; he continued to study the two young Asur with a nonplussed, almost amused, expression. With a shake of his head, the Minister said:

“Lady Tarabeth, we are Asur. Melodrama suits us ill.”

The elf maiden flushed an even deeper shade of scarlet.

“I am not exaggerating sir! They will come! And they will tear this tower apart stone by stone if need be, to find their friend!”

The Minister smiled. “Nagarythe is far, and of limited…resources. You will pardon me if I do not begin quaking just yet. Besides,” he said with a rueful shake of his head, “I find it hard to believe that the Nagarathi would risk an international incident just to find one elf.”

The Caledorian was staring at the Minister and rapidly blinking, looking clearly perplexed. “You do not know any Nagarathi, do you?” he said.

“You-!!” the Chracian maiden began, but was forestalled by a gesture from the Minister. With the other hand he rang a small bell and the room’s door opened with the sentries waiting without.

“This conversation is at an end,” the Minister said. “The Druchii… or Nagarathi…or whatever he is will remain under lock and key to await my judgment for his crimes and trespass. And then he will most likely be executed.” He gestured to the guards at the door, who stepped into the room. “Now if you will excuse me, I have other matters to discuss,” the Minister finished and nodded towards Ailana and Lothello.

Chastised, the Chracian princess turned on her heels, back straight and head held high, walking as if the sentries were an honor guard and not forcing her eviction. The crippled Caledorian, still seeming puzzled, stumbled after in her wake.

At the door’s threshold the little Chracian stopped, and turning only her head, declared:

“They will come.”

And then she and the Caledorian and guards disappeared behind the closed door.

The minister rubbed his brow for a moment then said, “My pardons Lady Ailana and Lord Lothello. For that intrusion. Now if we have finished with the drama of the day, perhaps we can return to our discussion.”

Ailana shifted in her seat, and rested her head on her chin as she thought. “I do not know about the claims of this prisoner,” she mused, “however, he did claim to know where the other one was headed. That he had been tracking him. And that he could find him.”

“Meaning?” the Minister said carefully.

“Meaning that he might be of use to us. We can have him guide us to other.”

“Out of the question. I do not make it my custom to release prisoners in my charge,” the Minister stated clearly.

Lothello shot a sideways glance at Ailana and then said, “We spoke nothing of releasing the prisoner, Lord Minister. Simply placing him into our custody. Temporarily. Until the other is apprehended.” The Eatainian then added reassuringly, “He can remain in bonds and under guard as he leads us to the escapee.” Looking about the room the Eataianian captain then suddenly added, “After all, as we say in Lothern: ‘it takes a Druchii to catch a Druchii’.”

The Minister frowned, then stood and stepped away from the desk. He walked to window across the room and stared out. Using the following absence, Ailana leaned close to Lothello and whispered:

“They don’t really say that in Lothern, do they?”

Lothello winked at her.

After a minute, the Minister turned back towards them and said, “I cannot deny an official request from a Seeker in this matter.” Ailana opened her mouth, but was forestalled quickly by the minister. “However. I will insist that the Druchii will be maintained in binds and under careful watch. We are still in the territory of Spires, and so he is still my responsibility. I will send Sentinel Atlan with you to make sure that the prisoner does not escape. Or harms anyone.”

“Thank you, Minister.” Ailana and Lothello stood. As they were walking towards the door, the Minister called out:

“Lady Ailana. If you would tarry a moment, there are other matters I wished to discuss with you.”

Lothello sent Ailana a beseeching look, but the Saphery maiden simply nodded and returned to her seat. After the door was closed once more, the minister opened a drawer under his desk, produced a piece of parchment, and unrolled it on the furnishing’s surface before her. Ailana leaned forward and studied the writings upon it.

“What is it I am looking at? Is that….?” She said with a frown.

“Yes, these are the plans for a mighty tower,” the Minister answered. “One that will dwarf the Tyr Wadi, in both height and girth.”

“What is its purpose?” Ailana queried. Instead of answering straight away the Minister stood and began to pace behind his desk.

“We have found over the past century that many Asur children are being born with the Gift here in the colonies. And more with each passing year,” the Minister explained as he walked.

The ‘Gift’ or ‘Talent’ as it was called was the inborn sensitivity to the Winds of Magic. It was a rare blessing of Asuryan; once common throughout his creation, now like so many other blessings from the ancient times, becoming increasingly scarce. Those born with the Gift, with proper training, could learn to wield the winds of magic as extensions of themselves, their desires and powers. To be mages of Ulthuan. Of course, after decades, or even centuries, of careful study….

But first they had to be born with the Gift.

“In time,” the minister continued, “their numbers will be too great to be accommodated by the White Tower of Hoeth. My lord has begun…preparing, for this eventuality.”

Ailana glanced at the plans before her. “You mean?”

“Yes again,” the minister answered with a small smile. “Plans are being put in place to construct a tower for their training, here in the Kingdom of Spires. Well in the Dragon Isles to be specific. A place for the instruction and care of the next generations of mages of the colonies….”

“A rival to the Tower of Hoeth?” Ailana said dumbfounded. Then she laughed. “It would not go anywhere. Everyone knows where the greatest repository of knowledge of the winds is, and it is in Saphery!”

“Not a rival,” the Minister continued. “A…compliment. A tower built of the cobalt blue stones of the Isles, to match the White Tower of Saphery. Both united in the goal to train the minds and powers of those with the Gift. For the benefit of all Asur.”

“But…but there are scarce enough wizard lords to maintain Hoeth as it is!” Ailana said. “Many rooms go vacant. Many classes are shrinking.”

“I assure you that my Prince has given this careful consideration,” the Minister continued. “And the numbers speak of a growing tide of gifted ones here in the City of Spires. And we have similar accounts from other colonies. The need will shortly be upon us, and we think it wise to prepare. To make sure that an…unfair burden not be placed upon the resources of Hoeth.”

If that were so… But that couldn’t be! Ailana’s thoughts cascaded in a jumble after a jumble. It was long known that the Asur were a dying race! The children coming fewer and farther between then they had been in the fecund days of Aenarion and before. What with the costs of the wars of the Empire, now many a hold and city of Ulthuan was only half filled to capacity. Some, live Tor Yvresse were even worse: great city-states filled with more columns and marble statues then elves to live there!

Yet the remarkable growth of the City of Spires had to be explained somehow. Her instructor cold not have lied about the transformation from village to sprawling city in a mere half millennium. Could it be….?

“Why are you telling me this?” she finally settled on a question out of the confusion of her thoughts. Then quickly added, “And it would take many years to complete!”

“Centuries,” the Minister answered. “Yet the Prince of Spires is very patient.”

He smiled.

“Now to answer your other question, because it is as you said,” the minister spoke slowly and carefully. “The greatest repository of wizarding knowledge and lore is to be found in Saphery. For the Blue Tower…”

“…for this place to truly become a marvel and an asset to the Empire…it will need to be guided by the most puissant and wise….”

The minister stopped pacing and returned to his chair, resting his arms upon the desk he studied her calmly, but intensely.

“We will need help in this. And we know where that help is to be found.”

“If…say for example, our Houses were tied together with new bonds…,” he continued with a knowing look in his eyes. “There would be opportunities within the Blue Tower for mages of ability and vision. Professorships and learned Loremasters would be needed. And a headmaster…or mistress…”

“And if that is not appealing…” the colonial continued to watch her carefully, “You should consider the consequences of a binding of our Houses.”

“If a certain union was formed, my prince would be most desirous to be accompanied here by his new....partner,” the colonial said with an empty smile. “Perhaps to oversee the Blue Tower. That would mean, in Saphery.…vacancies in positions of authority would become available in our new sister city of Tor Irian….”

“…perhaps even the highest vacancy….”


***
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Re: VI: A 1001 Nagarathi Nights...

#85 Post by Malossar »

Gotta love elven scheming.


Damnit Talossar grow a pair and force your way into the dungeon. Try telling his uncle no...
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Re: VI: A 1001 Nagarathi Nights...

#86 Post by Aicanor »

Well, they are not going to gain any points in Tor Irian by throwing Nagarathi in prison or planning to execute them. Maybe the Minister is acting in his own accord in his isolation from the City of Spires, but they really should know better.
And Ailana should better remember that too! Heheh.

And poor Headshot, that is so unfair. You could be happily freezing at the northern camp sites. Not that it is much more comfortable (Aicanor should know), but it is definitely a matter of great pride. No doubt they have a saying about it in Lothern. ;)
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Re: VI: A 1001 Nagarathi Nights...

#87 Post by Elessehta of Yvresse »

I've noticed that there are a lot of sayings in lothern, they sure like to talk a lot.
[url=http://www.ulthuan.net/forum/viewtopic.php?f=5&t=34506][i]Lord Elessehta Silverbough of Ar Yvrellion, Ruler of Athel Anarhain, Prince of the Yvressi.[/i][/url]
[quote="Narrin’Tim"]These may be the last days of the Asur, but if we are to leave this world let us do it as the heroes of old, sword raised against evil![/quote]
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Re: VI: A 1001 Nagarathi Nights...

#88 Post by daid13 »

Elessehta of Yvresse wrote:I've noticed that there are a lot of sayings in lothern, they sure like to talk a lot.
Too true, buddy, too trve.
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Re: VI: A 1001 Nagarathi Nights...

#89 Post by Prince of Spires »

I'm getting a sneaky feeling that Spires will be looking for a new minister before the story runs out. A pity realy, since he does seem quite good at the elven scheming part of the job.

He is of course just doing his job to the best of his knowledge. Being this far from pretty much anywhere means you're often behind on your facts. And everyone knows those wild Chracian maidens fall for any pretty smile. Not to be trusted those.

An interesting question of course is why Tim ended up in the position where he could be taken for a druchii and be captured (shame on him, a Nagarathi captured? By colonials? He'll be laughed at by the whole host. Better he stay in the sanatorium realy).

I'm wondering how long Ailana can resist selling out her cousin for personal gain and the greater good (of Spires mainly...).

Rod
For Nagarythe: Come to the dark side.
PS: Bring cookies!

Check out my plog
Painting progress, done/in progress/in box: 167/33/91

Check my writing blog for stories on the Prince of Spires and other pieces of fiction.
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Re: VI: A 1001 Nagarathi Nights...

#90 Post by Elessehta of Yvresse »

NT is the embarrassment of the entire host...
No, I'm not changing my Sig yet, still one of the most inspiring things I've read on here.
[url=http://www.ulthuan.net/forum/viewtopic.php?f=5&t=34506][i]Lord Elessehta Silverbough of Ar Yvrellion, Ruler of Athel Anarhain, Prince of the Yvressi.[/i][/url]
[quote="Narrin’Tim"]These may be the last days of the Asur, but if we are to leave this world let us do it as the heroes of old, sword raised against evil![/quote]
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