Glade of Solace - Norran: Two Wrongs

Solace Woods


 * Though the Solace Woods and deep as they spread across the stretch of the Forest District's untouched terrain, there are places even within that orchestra of life where one can find respite and peace. The area known as the Solace Glade is one of them.


 * Though relatively close to the Lomasa Road to the south, the world of politics and civilization is still hidden behind a vast wall of shardwood,river oak, and maple; the boundary of timber flanking this curious clearing on all sides, cutting one off from the Empire beyond the kingdom of nature within.


 * The glade itself is a peaceful place dominated by short, downy grasses, bursts of tiny colorful flowers, and a small rocky lagoon to the east of the dell that gurgles with crystal water. A blackened path of earth in the middle of the clearing marks the location of a frequently used site for camp fires, and it is no doubt that location which many Knights spend their time here.


 * It is around that campsite that one soon understands why this location is special, for circles around that patch of dark earth stand eight statues at equidistance lengths from each other. One of those statues depicts Emperor Talus Kahar II, shield in hand, with sword pointing towards the ground at his feet.


 * The other seven depict what one might assume to be some of the very first Captains of the Emperor's Blades, their armor ornate, beautiful, and from an utterly different period of time. Though their armor is different, and through they are are nameless as they are silent, their devotion to the Empire and her People is no less apparently upon their weather-worn features.

Rustling through the brush and wood is the large, armored form of Duke Norran Lomasa. Poking and prodding the path carefully with the obsidian-forged half-pike he bears in his left hand, he breathes a sigh of relief as he comes upon the glade. He pauses quietly as he looks over the clearing, managing a small smirk as he looks over the glade darkened by dusk. "Perhaps it might be more peaceful if it weren't for those statues, but it's a fine spot."

Clanking and jingling his way through the grass, he breathes a sigh as he hefts his pack bearing the mark of the Imperial Watch next to the blackened camp sight. He pauses a moment to reverently salute the statue of Talus Kahar the Second, before continuing wordlessly in rummaging through his pack and settling down his pike. "How do you like it, Milora?" poses the older Lomasa.

Much lighter dressed is the small figure that accompanies the former Blade. Milora Lomasa does not appear to be anxious of trouble, but she does seem to have a certain energy about her that suggests that she expects something more than a short, mundane camping trip. Raising her eyebrows as she moves forward, shedding her bow and quiver and laying them neatly off the center of the grove, she moves forth to examine one of the statues of the nameless Captains.

"I like it," she says gently, looking the stone man in the eye. "I like them. Look, they have good faces. And hardly one of them is handsome. I prefer it that way." She smiles.

"Perhaps you find at least one face in this glade attractive, other than your own?" teases Norran with a light chuckle, taking to a knee as he unhooks the lantern from his pack. Taking a vial of oil from from the pouch at his side, he pours an amount inside the lantern and takes a piece of flint and tinder from his pack. It takes him a few moments, but he manages to get the lantern lit, securing the glass door shut as he takes to standing. "I'm going to go look for some firewood and rocks to support the site, it shouldn't be too hard." That said, he begins to circle the glade, eyeing pieces of dry wood here and there and tucking it beneath his arm. A rather mundane task for a Potential, but he goes about it easily.

"Yes!" Milora agrees emphatically, a little sparkle in her eye as she turns to look at the older man and then moves towards the central figure. "Emperor Talus Kahar the Second, I presume? Good evening, Your Imperial Majesty. What a handsome face you have!" She curtseys low and elegantly, hands flaring out as though pressing the edges of a gown, her head bowing and her lips twitching as she addresses the statue. "Such bones, so strong and fine. Such a smooth complexion!"

Grinning, she becomes distracted by a few large, round stones, which she moves to seize. "Are we just to sleep here tonight, then, surrounded by these eight faces? -- I wonder, not that it isn't too late now, whether it is proper for me to have come to keep you company."

"Remind me not to trust you with the Emperor when he comes to his prime in a couple decades," muses Norran with a low chuckle, shaking his head to himself as he gathers a bundle of promising sticks and branches, returning to the center of the glade. "I believe that's the challenge. Spend the night here in quiet meditation, with one more here to witness that you've bothered with the task. A welcome break from tending to the House's affairs. I'd stay a sennight if there were a good excuse."

Norran pauses for a moment, a curious quirk of his lips directed to the blonde Lomasa. "Proper? Whatever could you mean by that, dearest Lily?" poses the young Duke, his tone light-hearted but genuinely curious in the answer.

Laughing, Milora nods her head and looks brightly up at the man while arranging the stones in the center of the glade. "Norran, I am a powermonger, and I will uncross my legs for any man with a throne and a long scepter," she says smilingly. "I am a very expensive whore who will go to the most promising bidder. Who am I?" She glances down at herself and then, rather boldly, at Norran.

"Surprisingly vague of you, Milora," teases the other Lomasa, shaking his head as he takes to a knee by the stones Milora sets down while beginning to carefully construct a ready campfire among them. "I'm afraid I do not know, you'll have to tell me. Riddles were never my strong-suit." He hums pleasantly to himself as he arrays the firewood, flashing a warm grin to his companion.

Raising her eyebrows knowingly, Milora shakes her head. “I am afraid it would not be delicate of me to say in the presence of such fine men,” she replies with a smile. “I am certainly no woman who is respectable or honorable, and no woman who should darken the doorways of the court. Why do you call me Lily, Norran?” she asks, helping to arrange the firewood with her knees set in the dirt.

A faint grin and a shrug of the shoulders comes from Norran at the question, responding thoughtfully, "Because I thought you'd like it. You seem to think I think of you as less than a person at times, and I supposed that my calling you by a fond name would ease your spirit. Shorter, too," snickers Norran.

Once the firewood is arranged, the nobleman reaches for the steel dagger sheathed at his side. Taking a small, dry branch he'd set aside, he begins to whittle away at the branch with the dagger, producing an amount of wooden shavings that he collects beside the future campfire. "I should enjoy taking this test, and I hope I should pass. I've nearly been preparing my whole life for it, Duke or not. I'll enjoy being in official service of the Empire once more. I do miss my Blades days."

“Do you?” Milora’s voice takes on a gentler tone as she casually stretches out onto her belly, propping her head on her hands while watching the fire pit start to form. She has no dagger. Looking up through black lashes at Norran: “Why did you join the Blades? That is, I imagine it seemed like the prudent choice after you had beaten the tournament circuit.”

"Well, perhaps I don't miss the lack of freedom. So long without having to share a bunk through shifts with two other men has jaded me, I think." A nice pile of loose wooden fibers whittled, Norran settles the dagger down as he reaches over to settle the lantern closer. Opening the glass door, he carefully lifts the pile of shavings. No more than a second later, the lantern's wick catches the shavings aflame as Norran quickly settles the fire from his hands to the firewood. Carefully, he blows at the flaming shavings to coax the fire to catch the wood arrayed here, the Lomasa grinning broadly when successful.

His task complete, he takes up the dagger to begin poking at the firewood to help it along. Face illuminated by the fire's glow, he smiles gently over to Milora. "A good thing the Blades are no more, however. I'd not have nearly as much time to spend with you or Anlyssa as I do these days. It was appealing, then, I focused little of personal things and only had to worry of training and duty. Helping the citizenry, being one of the Emperor's Men, not worrying about being bored the next day."

“How lovely.” Milora’s voice is slightly detached, however; she drops one of the arms that she leans her head against and raises her eyebrows. “At least it was a respectable occupation and one which kept you useful. But you need not really worry about that now, must you, as Patriarch?” She smiles gently. “You are now useful by nature. Lucky man. I am still scrambling at every moment to better serve those around me, and that is why I am so eager to take this initiation by myself.”

"If I'm useful by merely existing, you're infinitely useful for keeping me sane. Very few people I meet have the sort of patience you show toward me, and I can only hope I prove as comforting to you as you do me," warmly replies Norran, his smile calm and peaceful as he shifts around the campfire's wood. The flame crackles steadily, Norran idly tossing the dagger to lodge itself into the burned ground as he turns about to begin unpacking the bedroll from his pack. "It was a respectable position, people rarely doubted my judgment and my orders. I had far more clout as a Bladesman than I did a Duke!"

A small smile crosses Milora’s face, and she nods her head in agreement. “Be careful, Norran, or you might be thought bitter on top of everything else.” She inhales deeply and exhales slowly, looking with admiration at the fire. “I believe that people are disposed against your type naturally,” she says sincerely.

“I know that you mean the very best, and I believe that you are judged too harshly. But is that not the beauty of politics? You are so closely watched, because there is no one else to watch. Let us not forget that it is also fashionable to dislike those holding power, especially for the young and effervescent. Do not put too much stock into it. Do what is best by your judgment; your House rises behind you like a strong fortress and your freelanders surround you loyally. … And do not let her bother you so much.”

A chuckle comes from Norran as he lays out his bedroll, continuing conversationally, "Perhaps. But no-one dislikes Rowena, perhaps because she doesn't quite do anything beyond tend to her House. Never too much the sort to go about bringing change or challenging those arrayed against her. Likely because none are. Perhaps I should act that way, only worrying of my House and ignoring perceived injustices. Languish in my Mastery all day drinking wine and being entertained by bards like my predecessor. But, I'm afraid not," breathes Norran with a sigh, sitting himself near the fire and taking up the dagger again to poke at the fire. "Simply not the sort of man I am. It's why I bother to do this in the first place. You'd never see Sinon sitting in the dirt in the middle of the forest for an equal spot in a Knightly Order, would you?"

Another smile, and Milora finally rises to seek out her own bedroll. “Certainly not,” she agrees, smoothing the cover beneath her long hands. “You are not cut of the same cloth as they are, but you mustn’t grow too self-important because you are an anomaly. There are things that you could learn from your peers, as well.” Stretching her shoulders, she leans back and covers a large yawn. “You are a good man, and I trust you to lead my House. I do think, however, that perhaps you would do well to … oh, well. Do you see? People misunderstand you; you must discourage them from such a thing where ever you can.”

"Pointless to try most times, so convinced they are that they're right. Little concern, I'll grow wiser as the years pass," replies the other Lomasa, idly shifting an extra piece of wood into the fire. "I've little to worry about. I'm in the middle of nowhere, no duties to attend to, only a peaceful glade alone with a beautiful girl. I could think of few better ways to spend my nights."

Rolling her eyes as if in reproach of the man on the opposite side of the fire, Milora shakes her head. “Please, Your Grace, not in front of the Emperor. … Anyroad, you speak with bad taste. I hope that you will grow wiser in time – for all of our sakes, and for your own. I am no … moral pillar. I am not strong, and I am not particular. I do have a fair head on my shoulders and a good eye in that head, but I am not the one, I think, to lead you to wisdom. You might have done better to ask Master Firelight to accompany you here.”

Norran laughs aloud at Milora's words, giving her a shake of his head as he smiles toward her. "I'd rather none other than you be here tonight. And definitely not him. I've never had a wiser companion than you, trust me in that. You don't give yourself nearly enough credit, but your modesty only furthers your appeal. I'm afraid you're just far too attractive for your own good, Beloved."

"You are too hard on Kael Firelight," Milora replies, brushing his flattery away with a hand. "It is characteristic of you, Norran, to allow yourself to be too affected by the words and actions of other people. It just can hardly be very good for you." There's a small smile, though. "If I am wise, it is only because I am surrounded by people who are smarter than me."

"The words and actions of other people are how you know their character, Milora. If so many stress how important my actions are and my words, I should treat them the same way, shouldn't I? Best to treat those with the respect they give you, it's what I try to do for you," replies Norran with a small grin, settling to sit himself down in the dirt with the end of his cloak to protect his backside from the dirt, eyes settling back on the fire. "Everyone has their chance to redeem themselves. It's what I've been trying to do for months."

This brings a rather inquisitive look. Milora lifts her head a little and straightens out her neck, furrowing her eyebrows and inclining her chin delicately. “Redeem yourself, Norran? For what would you try to redeem?”

"Those few months out of my entire life that I made foolish decisions that seems to have tainted all the honor and respect I've strived to earn my entire life, Milora. I'll not suffer anyone referring to you as my 'latest whore', wagering on how many more weeks it will take before I toss you away." Norran takes a deep breath, his expression momentarily solemn before he looks back over to the other Lomasa. "A few months has suddenly become what I've been my entire life. I hadn't even touched a woman until I was twenty-two years old.

He chuckles, after that. "...the bards, they seem fond of inventing names for the Dukes. Duke Nillu is Orrendous Nillu, and I believe my latest would be 'The Grinning Duke'. Not so bad a title, I suppose. It may even stay with me."

A rather wry chuckle is Milora’s response to that. “I may as well be a whore,” she says quietly. “I understand what rumours will do to a person, Norran. I am sorry that you have to suffer.” Raising an eyebrow, she nods. “But people are very fickle. Either they have not known you long enough to pass fair judgement, or they go by what they have recently seen.”

"Then I'll return the same courtesy to them. Very fair, is it not?" supposes the Lomasa. He breathes another sigh, shaking his head slowly. "You're far from a whore, Milora. The farthest thing. You needn't worry of getting cast aside, it's me that should worry of it. But I've learned from my mistakes and I've learned who I can trust through difficult times and who I can not."

"Yes." Milora is quiet for a little while, but at last she nods her head. "I do not know that returning the same courtesy, as you put it, would be very beneficial. But I cannot criticize you for that sentiment or I will be guilty of hypocrisy." She sighs, frowning into the fire. "It is difficult to forgive. We will need more firewood."

"Perhaps," thoughtfully ponders the older Lomasa aloud, before managing another grin. "Yes, we should have enough to keep the fire going throughout the night. I suppose I can volunteer again."

"Stay where you are. You must be gawked at by the Blades and by the Emperor; aside from that, it pleases me to do something of significance. I'll go." She smiles, pulling herself to one knee and then walking between the stone monuments into the light forest that thinly skirts the glade.

"Very well, but recall that I offered!" calls Norran with a bellowing laugh as Milora departs, shaking his head to himself as his emerald eyes curiously look over the wood. He shifts the fire about for a moment with his dagger, before turning to begin to further prepare his bedroll.

''Return to Season 6 (2007)