Part 2: The meeting of paths

Thrandimir shuffles into the common area outside the Fireblades' quarters to find Akiran and Thezra laughing and smiling with one another. The contrast to their previous interactions is jarring. "Ähm, have either of you seen the others? There's a messenger waiting at Timm's for us."

Emma H. said: Katrin glances over at Lilli, tightening the last strap of her armor. "Family isn't always blood," she says quietly. After a brief pause, she helps Lilli stand up. "Let's get you a working leg, alright?" She smiles and nods, allowing Katrin to help hoist her up. "Thanks. I hope this works better than I'm prepared for."

Thezra looks up at the wizard's approach just as she finishes setting her gear down, shaking her head in response. "We just got back a second ago from some training. Are they still asleep?" She heads for the girls' room and knocks once, "Katrin are you two awake yet? We are all out here." It occurred to her only as she finished the statement that it wasn't actually true - she'd seen no sign of Ascian yet either.

The words are barely out of Thezra's mouth when the door opens, revealing Katrin supporting the much taller figure of Lilliana. She casts her eyes over the scene in the common room. "Not all of us. Where's Ash?" Her voice is flatter than she intended. She settles her eyes on Akiran as she helps the girl over to a sofa, remembering his utter disgust at the revelations from the previous day. 

Seeing the question in Katrin's eyes that bordered on an accusation, With a shrug & a grunt Akiran dryly says "No idea, thought you kept em under your wing." His voice lightening and his snout shifting into a humanish smile as he looks over to the human  "Lookin better already Lilli! Just gotta get ya the leg an', you'll be better than new."  Taking a seat Akiran looks over to the wizard, once again in Thrandimir's form, confusion strikes the dragonborn for a moment before he decides it's just not his business. With a nod he asks "What's the messenger want? After the shit storm last night we don't have many friends in Cross Roads."

"He says that the king has a message for us," Thrandimir explains with something between impatience and disdain for the messenger.  "I'm afraid that, beyond that, he wasn't enormously specific. Seems like a man used to having others do as he says, which I expect is typical of royal heralds."

"The King ?"  Thezra crosses her arms, cocking an eyebrow. "How close are your shamans with your leaders? That deacon might have gone to him." Thinking further on it for a moment her brow furrows,  "Wait, how does your king even know we are here? I thought this guild's location is secret, and I don't remember us telling anyone we even joined it." 

Katrin's eyes darken. "Would've thought the king was too busy with his war to care about anything like us." She turns away, hands clenched at her sides. 

Akiran's scales flatten and lets out a bitter "Shit" ,   another problem to add to the pile. Though after thinking for a moment his mood brightens  "I don't think the Deacon's behind this. We're in the Crossroads, the core of da Heartlands power. If the Deacon riled up da King enough to come after us, he isn't just sending a dinky little messenger & an invitation. He's riding up with a squad ah knights, and a command."  A tinge of excitement flows into his voice "This may have somethin to do with The General & the Watchers. We put in work for em earlier this week, & after running it up the chain they may want to throw a bit of gold our way an hire us." Shrugging his voice deflating a bit "Either way, I don't think we got a choice. If we turn down his invite & piss him off, we'll have half of his kingdom dreaming of taking our heads."

Thrandimir nods. "Akiran has the right of it. The royal herald was wearing Heartlands colours, much like the general's soldiers." As an afterthought, the wizard takes the long package that he has lain over his shoulder and inverts it to rest one end on the floor in front of him. "Also, Lilliana's prosthesis arrived."

Lilliana's frown was nearly palpable upon hearing The Fireblade's summons was at the behest of the king, but as Sable...no, Thrandimir? Yes, Thrandimir, produces the package, all other thoughts are erased and stares longingly at it. "Katrin, could you help me back into the room? I'd like to put it on and try it out."  With some assistance from Katrin, Lilliana hobbles back into the room and excitedly tears into the package. She wasn't sure what she was expecting to find, but the simple, yet extremely elegant porcelain encased appendage was not it. Where the shell pieces came together, she could see through the seams into the mechanism beneath where the metal and wooden parts lay. It was bare, but almost immediately she had thoughts and patterns should could apply to make this hers. It was a strange feeling, equal parts dread and elation. Part of her was gone and would be forever gone, but... this could be a beautiful piece of her now, something different, but still her.  She awkwardly removes her pants and the first several minutes, awkwardly fights with the prosthesis. She lets out a frustrated huff. "I hope it's not too much to ask, would you mind helping me get this one?"  She asks Katrin sheepishly. Several minutes later, the last strap remains and with a hopeful glance to Katrin, Lilliana pulls the leather strap closed and slowly moves her leg to get a feel for the artificial limb.  It was an odd sensation, she could feel the limb, just as if she had her old leg back, but... it was different. Not numb, but... painless? Sensationless? She wasn't sure how to describe the feeling. After a few failed attempts, she finally gets to her feet and stumbles around briefly while she got used to the movements. It would take time, but she felt almost whole again, the prosthesis worked so much better than she had ever anticipated and part of her really wanted to try jumping. Maybe another time. She turns to Katrin with the largest smile she'd seen on the young woman's face since she'd met her. "What do you think?!"  She sways around a bit, as if dancing to show it off. 

Katrin nods, a faint smile on her lips.  "It looks good. Seems to be of sturdy construction."

Ascian is still turning the green stone over in his hands when he heads back toward the place the Fireblades had made their home, Ember at his side. Despite Faerus' promise he'd wake with it there's still a sort of disbelief hidden in the way his long, bony fingers pass over the smooth surface – afraid the contact may break it, or perhaps waiting for the shatter it feels inevitable is coming. It shouldn't be here, just like he shouldn't; the same words the dull nausea pushes through him every single day. But it is and he is, and with it now a sort of cool calmness that helps him swallow past the thick sick that otherwise coats his throat; a thin dam against the imminent shame of seeing Thezra and Akiran again and even the bitter self-loathing. The orb pours from one palm to the next, and in the vacated one appears a small phantom relic of Casimir's ruby-inlaid knife; his brother in one hand and a friend in the other – no room anymore to hold on to the pain and the worry and the hate. Just two people who know every secret, and who had seen the awful, selfish core of him and hadn't turned away. The dagger only disappears as he arrives at the Fireblades' door, hesitating just outside it. They're inside; he knows it without having to enter – can hear the sound of voices and stumbling footsteps. There's time to run still, if he wanted to. But where would he go? Nowhere above ground would be safe while the church still looked for him, and even if it was how could he do that after what Akiran had said? How could he prove him right twice? How could he leave Katrin and the wizard, the only two left in this plane who didn't look at him like he had crawled up from the abyss? How could he walk without first making sure they were all okay? His fingers curl around the orb and he quietly pushes the door open to slip inside. They're there just as he'd expected; all of them, gathered around Lilliana and what appears to be a new, functioning leg.  You should have been here for that,  he thinks dully before skirting past it, jumping slightly as the door clicks shut behind Ember. There's a horrible pause where he knows he should say something, and fumbles around for words that as usual come out flatter than he'd intended.  "They finished that fast." He's silent for a moment, avoiding Thezra and Akiran entirely as he stares unblinkingly at Lilliana's prosthesis and away again, trying to look anywhere else – and blinking at last when his eyes find the wizard. Find Thrandimir . For the first time since he can remember he has to fight back a garish smile, the orb clenching tighter in his palm as his mind reaches out toward the whirring, buzzing gears of a mind he knows will be familiar, better words finally rising to his lips in tandem. "You came."

Lilliana notices the way Ash’s eyes lock onto her new leg and she feels something she had been fighting for a long time; empathy. ‘He probably feels responsible… you need to say something.’ She walks over, still clearly awkward on her replacement as she tries to get used to it. “Hey Ash, you know this isn’t your fault, right?” She pats the leg. “I don’t blame you.”

Thrandimir arches an eyebrow and his lips crinkle into an amused smile. "Of course. You asked me to," he tells Ash with an affectionate chuckle.

"I told the wizard. The other one. I didn't know if you would come,"  Ascian admits to Thrandimir. He almost holds out the orb to show him, but Lilliana's words halt him. His eyes in turn dart to Akiran and Thezra before reluctantly back to the sorceress, dropping to the ground again almost as soon as she touches her false leg.  "You don't have to say that." His shoulders roll uncomfortably, and he feels something wet at his fingertips as Ember licks his hand.  "Dragonvale. Are we...is it today."

"Depends what the 'King' wants." Thezra gives only a quick look over at Ascian as he arrives, keeping her gaze more on the wizard. She'd been so focused on what this message could be, on top of being a bit winded from her and Akiran's sparring, that she hadn't fully processed she was looking at the other  wizard - the one who'd originally been with the group back at the Fireblade. Besides, with the events of the previous night still lingering in her mind like, well, a shadow, she found herself unsure how to gauge the boy just yet. "Speaking of which, we're all here now, Thrandimir . If we're gonna hear this message, we ought to go now, yea? "

sansasnark said: His eyes in turn dart to Akiran and Thezra before reluctantly back to the sorceress, dropping to the ground again almost as soon as she touches her false leg.  "You don't have to say that." Lilliana's eyes quickly flick over at Katrin briefly with a small smile. "No, I think I do."  Her eyes settle back onto Ascian, then around to all the others. "And I think I owe everyone an apology for how I've been behaving recently. There is a lot you don't know, but we can talk about it later..."  She gestures to indicate Thezra. "As Thezra said, we should probably go."

Akiran averts his gaze as The Pale One enters the room, his silver scales flat against his face while his snout appears entirely disinterested. Unconsciously falling into his people's harshest rebuke for those who fail to conform. Though his eyes can't help but narrow, in a mixture of surprise & confusion as the Pale One mentions "the other wizard". Before he can consider it further he hears Lilliana offer an apology, with a firm shake of his snout he walks over to the mage. In a friendly yet firm voice he says "Ya got nothing to ' pologize  for! Ya fought with us, ya bled for us, hell ya even lost a limb for us. Did more than most and sacrificed  more than all of us. Be proud!" With a cheery whistle he looks down to the artificial leg "They did good work for ya too!" Adding with a wink and a friendly laugh  "T hough we're gonna have to deck it out, add some platinum script, bit a gold finishing & the bards i'll be singing ya tales from tavern ta tavern."  His snout growing more serious  "Yeah, it's not good to keep a king waiting." His eyes looking around at the rest of the group, briefly falling on Katrin whose hatred of the Kingdom was well known, Thezra a warrior known for speaking her mind to anyone, & finally falling on The Pale One. Hooking his fingers in his belt he adds  "Not everyone's gotta go ya know, a bit of less is more if ya know what I mean."

Katrin merely raises an eye at Akiran, her expression unreadable. Her fingers tense slightly as his gaze rests finally on Ascian. She clears her throat. "He asked for the Fireblades. That's everyone in this room. We don't all need to speak. But I think we all need to be there. Believe me, I'm not happy about it. But I'd rather hear for myself what the King wants." 

Thezra nods. "I agree. We're already being hunted by the mad shaman. Splitting up would only leave us weak if it turns out this is a trap or something."  Folding her arms over her chest, she shrugs.  "And if it isn't, then I imagine your king would never let guests be attacked on his own watch. I know no such thing would ever happen under Kerak's." She gives an awkward laugh, rubbing the back of her neck. "I suppose we also just don't host many guests in Ore'agah, though..."

Thrandimir stares at Ascian for a moment longer than normal as he processes what the boy is saying. The wizard opens his mouth, as though about to say something, but then closes it again as Thezra begins talking instead. "The herald has already seen me and Katrin is our leader, so she should represent us. As for the rest of you... I wouldn't blame anybody who doesn't feel like walking into the lion's den."

Shrugging Akiran says plainly  "I'll represent myself." Looking around he adds "Your right though, we're walking in the lions den. If we don't play it smart, we'll be lucky if we just lose our heads. Best to be polite & gracious, getting in and out without pissing em off." 

Thrandimir nods to Akiran in agreement. "Ascian? Lilliana? Will you stay here, or come with us?"

"I will come with, although perhaps not exactly as I normally appear. I do wonder if I could use this to my advantage... perhaps we could put out a false narrative of my death to throw off those pursuing me? I can try to craft another identity..."  It's clear that she is merely speaking aloud to herself as opposed to anyone in particular. 

Ascian glances up at his name, though his gaze slides off to the wall behind the group before it's truly settled. "I don't think I should. Not after last night. Ember and I are...we'll stay."

Katrin glances over at Lilliana. "I don't think that will be necessary. We're just going to talk to him, that's all." Looking to Ascian, she merely nods, a deep understanding in her eyes. She turns, then heads for the door. "We'd best not keep him waiting." 

Lilliana disguises herself, and the Fireblades make their way back to Timm's shop to meet the king's messenger. The man stares down his nose at each of the Fireblades in turn, his brow furrowing. "I see not all of you have made yourself available. And you posses  a few... extra ...members. No matter. Please share this message to your missing comrade at your earliest convenience.." With a grandiose motion, he opens the scroll case and unfurls the scroll. He clears his throat, and begins reading.  "King Darius Abbott, the First of his Name, Ruler of the Heartlands, True Emperor of Tollan, Protector of the Wildlands, Lord Protector of the Baervale Hills invites the mercenary company known as the Fireblades to the royal manor on the eve of the morrow, 33 Setum, for a dinner and conference. Your deeds for the Heartlands, both here in the capitol and in the village surrounding the Fireblade Tavern and Inn have not gone unnoticed by his majesty, and he wishes to thank all  of you in person." The emphasis on the word "all" is not unnoticed by anyone standing in the Arcane Minded. The messenger stares flatly at the Fireblades before returning the scroll to its case. "You are to report to the front gates of the royal manor one hour before sundown. Please dress appropriately. His royal majesty understands that adventurers such as yourselves often do not possess clothes worthy of stately proceedings, so the treasure has bequeathed a sum of 40 gold pieces to your party to purchase such things." He places a purse on one of the display cases, the jingle of coin inside unmistakable. "Please do not be late."

And this is exactly why I detest nobles,  Katrin thinks to herself sourly, maintaining a neutral expression on her face.  "Who are we to refuse such a generous offer?"  Her voice only holds a hint of sarcasm, her gaze equally flat as she looks at the messenger.

Akiran's scales ruffle in surprise & then happiness as the message was read. To be publicly acknowledged and honored by a king, was a treasure worth more than gold. The distinction could have tales of their glory spread like wildfire throughout the Crossroads & the name of Akiran sung through out the land's many taverns. Fame, Glory & more lucrative contracts what more could a man want?  Though as that last thought plays through his head, the hatchet wound cut into the Monster's mark begins to burn. Reminding him of both his curse & his obligation. His spirits somewhat dampened, his still reasons that his elevated status would make it easier to find resources & allies in hunting the beast. Snapping out of daydreams as he hears Katrin's response, he interjects with a honeyed tone & his speech formal  "Of course King Darius has honored us, we would all be overjoyed to break bread with him in proper attire." Though his mind was already focused on which of the Crossroads many tailors he would commission for his royal debut.

While Katrin and Akiran talk, Thrandimir quietly collects the purse, assessing the weight in his hand as a dozen costume possibilities racing through his mind.

Thezra considers the messenger curiosly, trying her hardest to understand every word of his spiel. Even with her earlier meeting with the General the other day, this was her first true brush with human nobility and the onslaught of formalities and titles gave her pause. Why does their chief's name need to be so long? She opens her mouth to verbalize her confusion aloud, but thinks back to that meeting with Trask and Akiran and Sable's apparent reaction to her remarks then. Instead, she lets the questions wash over her tongue and slip back down her throat, resolving to save them for the king himself. Probably better not to ask behind his back , she reasons. There was one question she felt was pertinent, though.  "That all of us are expected to attend is clear, but if we do decide to meet with King Darius Abbott, First of his Name, Ruler of Hearts and..."  she blinks, glancing aside for just a moment,  "...True Protector of the Bear-Whales,  would he guarantee safe passage to his manor? There are some in this city who claim authority and are quick to attack unprovoked."  Folding her arms over her chest, she shrugs,  "I'm not trying to insult your chief but I do hope he understands if some in our group are a little wary of a meeting like this."

The messenger stares down his nose at Thezra. Despite the orcish woman's height, she has the distinct feeling that he is looking down  on her and her companions -- a simple effect of the man's presence and his hard, piercing eyes. "Our king ," he begins, emphasizing the title for Thezra's benefit, "will guarantee your safety on the streets of the capital, just as he does for all Heartlands citizens." He folds his hands together, long fingers intertwining. "You, of course, are referring to the incident at the Temple of Pelor, with Deacon Byer. The good deacon overstepped the bounds of his authority. I would steer clear of the temple, but you all are welcome in this city."

The man's response causes Thezra to raise a brow. His haughty expression made clear his thoughts for the lot of them, and it did little to inspire any real confidence in the word of this human king. "Great," she forces a smile.  "I feel real welcomed then. And having seen the danger of shamans who overstepped their authority before, I'd be happy to give the king some advice on how best to rein them in."

"I'm sure the king will welcome your advice," the messenger says with no attempt to mask the disdain in his voice. "If there is nothing else, I shall take my leave." The messenger rolls the scroll back up and returns it to its case. Then, without another word, he exits the Arcane Minded.

Katrin watches the messenger leave, a stony expression on her face and a sour taste in her mouth. "Well," she says, veiled disdain in her voice. "We'd best not disappoint his Majesty." 

So caught up in his royal day dreams, Akrian hardly noticed that Thezra was talking, only being brought back to reality when the warrior mentioned "advising the king". The Dragonborn's snout fell, surprise overwhelming the warrior and the merchant leaves before he can think of a diplomatic response. Closing his snout and he looks to the others with genuine excitement in his eyes, hearing the disdain in Katrin's tone and witnessing Thezra's utter lack of grace  "My friends, I know some of us are not..." With a nod to Katrin he continues "lets say fond of the Heartlands and it's King. Or ..." With a friendly smile towards Thezra "aware of the niceties that are tied to breaking bread with a King. But" Spreading his arms to the group as whole "this is a great opportunity. Taking the messenger at his word, it's already put a rest to the shit storm that got kicked up with the church. And it can a hell of a lot more. Between the Watchers and the...  monster." His tone gaining an edge and nearly dripping with disdain as he mentions the beast. Taking a breath and beginning again "We've got a lotta enemies and no one watching our back. Getting cozy with the king, can get us some help, or at least more resources. And all we gotta do is pick out some fancy clothes, eat a bit of good food, and not say anything to piss anyone off. And we're golden, boost to our rep, and maybe a bit ah gold and resource to hunt the b astards  down. Ya gotta admit like it or not, it's a sweet deal. Right?"

"Akiran is right," Thrandimir agrees, finally speaking up. "Whatever your feelings about the king or his nation, power and influence are mighty weapons when skillfully wielded. We could all stand to benefit from this."

Katrin bites back an acidic retort. When the King starts conscripting your people...no.  This was not the time, nor was it the place. Akiran might be content to bow and scrape to the King, but she wasn't. She couldn't be. Dragonvale. It wasn't Hol. But it was all she had left. One day, I'll show it to you, Rose. I'll show it all to you.  

The Fireblades' reticence is palpable and Thrandimir sighs with mild exasperation. "Have any of you eaten yet? I'm famished. Let's pick up Ash and get some food before we decide anything else. There's this southern place on the corner that does these pockets of bread stuffed with sliced meat. Smells great."

Akiran's stomach growls at the mention of food, the early morning training and last night's whiskey diet catching up to him. Forcing his snout into a humanish smile he chuckles and says "Bit ah real food could do me good. But after that I gotta get my armor, an stop feeling like I'm walking through the streets streaking."  Looking to Thezra "Want to come?" Looking over to Thrand & Lilli "Her friend knows some weird magic could be a good chance to learn somethin new, if ya want?"

"Yeah, any food sounds good right now, but freshly cooked meat especially. Let's grab some of these hot pockets on our way to Ale'ken."  She nods,  "in fact, perhaps he would like one as well."

Thrandimir nods affirmatively to Akiran. "I'll come with you, just let me grab Ascian first." With that, the wizard departs back into the guild's interior, heading for the Fireblades' rooms in search of their pale, quiet friend.

Ascian is laying on the floor alarmingly close to the fireplace in the Fireblades' guild room when the door opens, Ember's great head on his sternum and the green orb dancing between his fingertips as he stares at it above him, disappearing and reappearing with mindless sleight of hand. He had expected the others back eventually but not quite this soon, and the noise takes him uncharacteristically off guard; his attempt at getting warm – when was the last time he had been anything even close? – seems painfully misguided as he sits up and stares at the door with the orb sliding into his sleeve, expecting Akiran or perhaps Thezra come to confront him with Katrin occupied. Instead it's the tall, grey form of a familiar face that slips through and the tension in his shoulders releases in a rush. "I thought you were the others," he admits to Thrandimir, calming the dislodged Ember with an absent hand between the wolf's ears as his eyes dart behind the wizard and back. "Are you alone."

"For now," Thrandimir affirms with a nod, throwing a backwards glance over his shoulder to be sure. There's a moment of silence, but for the soft-click of the wizard closing the door, and then comes the question. "... why ?" Thrandimir probes with an intrigued grin, his curiosity piqued by such a suspicious concern. Smirking conspiratorially, the wizard crosses to where Ascian and his faithful companion lounge besides the fire, before settling down cross-legged on the floor nearby. Thrandimir cups his bearded face in his hands as he faces the pair and waits expectantly.

Lilli smiles at Akiran's offer and nods. "Yes, I think I would like that. Perhaps they could even teach me something about my powers. I would like to learn more about them and where they come from."

"It's been a long time since I saw you."  Ascian pauses. Logically, he knows it had only been some eleven or twelve days, but it somehow feels like so much longer.  "There's just...a lot's happened. The others don't like me much. I thought the other wizard would have told you." He rolls one skeletal shoulder back before shifting, slowly folding his legs beneath him to mirror Thrandimir. His eyes dart to the door a final time, ensuring it's closed, before back to the wizard. "I found a way to get there. Stay there, for a while. Shadowfell. My brother's there. He's stuck. Like I'm stuck here." His fingers flex into his palms and slowly spread again, revealing the green orb sleight of hand had conjured from his sleeve. "But sometimes, things come back."  

Thrandimir opens his mouth to address some of Ascian's initial assertions, but stops in his tracks when he sees the green gem. "Hold it there for me," the wizard asks his friend, fishing out his spellbook. "This will only take a couple of minutes." With a few arcane gestures and words of incantation, Thrandimir quickly conducts a familiar pair of rituals for detecting magic and ascertaining the nature of magical objects. "Well, you're right in that it's certainly not of this plane," the wizard agrees, "but it's also not magical - at least not inherently. It appears to be an arcane focus of some kind. Many spellcasters use them. If you watch Lilliana carefully, you'll notice the black necklace that she uses. I sometimes channel my magic through my staff. Have you learned any magic in the shadowfell, Ascian? Have you brought anything else back with you? I have a great deal of questions," he admits with a wry smile.

Ascian is obediently still, watching with more attention than usual as Thrandimir walks through the motions of his ritual. Before last night magic had always seemed a distant concept, unattainable; now he wonders if some day he too might be able to know what something is with a few simple words and motion of his hands. When Thrandimir states his findings, he nods, momentarily savoring the strange feeling of knowing an answer himself before letting it go. Already, Faerus had been right. "I know a little," he admits, unfurling his opposite palm. The orb briefly flashes green and then a small reflection of himself in miniature appears in his opposite hand, identical in most ways except for clothes and a quicker smile and sympathetic green eyes. For a moment he watches the figure flicker, stiff and unmoving, before his fist curls over the illusion and he looks back up to Thrandimir. "I'm still figuring it out. I see why you do it now. Illusions. I didn't before, but it sort of makes sense now. It's like I have him here, for awhile." He looks at the orb for a moment longer before shaking his head.  "This is the only thing I have from there. Ember's gone with me, but it's different for him. He doesn't see things right. Not like I do."

Stormchaser  said: Thrandimir nods affirmatively to Akiran. "I'll come with you, just let me grab Ascian first." With that, the wizard departs back into the guild's interior, heading for the Fireblades' rooms in search of their pale, quiet friend. Katrin stares off to where Thrandimir had disappeared for a long moment, lost in a sea of her own thoughts. She has half a mind to follow the wizard, to find Ash. But she doesn't. Instead, she slides past the others for the front door. She pauses briefly, glancing back at them. "I don't have much of an appetite right now. But you all go on. I have to go meet a tailor anyway." She throws Akiran, Thezra, and Lilli a look. "Tell Thrand I'm sorry I can't join you." With that, she pushes through the door, heading off to find Miranda Savich. Maybe she has tips on dressing for royalty, she thinks to herself.