Unanimous

''It is the Tenth hour by the Shadow on Lanternglow, the 7th day of Greening in the year 627. It is a cool night. The slightest breeze stirs over the land infrequently. The sky is filled by dark, low clouds.''

The Golden Dragon 


 * The Golden Dragon isn't, as so many taverns are, a place of refuge. No, this place is meant as a place of socializing, a place of merry laughter and shared troubles, a vision of the companionship and mutual respect that makes life in Crown's Refuge even possible.


 * Finished in warm red wood, the Dragon is simply a long, wide room. Like most taverns, a bar dominates one wall - in this case, the rear one - with the establishment's stores stacked carefully behind whoever happens to be working the bar at any given moment. Two large fireplaces are built into the right-hand wall, both equipped to cook; identical emplacements that offer both warmth and a means to use that warmth to create savory delights, and a place to share tall tales and stories of lamentation and woe.


 * The tavern has no dark corners, and no square tables to be shoved in them. Instead, round tables fill the remaining space, slightly taller than your usual surfaces to meet the few Syladris that take advantage of the Dragon halfway, with enough space between them to give the illusion of privacy for those few that desire it.

Kael, Celeste, Temple, and Blackfox are gathered at the bar.

Kael blinks, and eyes the package oddly before picking it up - "I did nae do anythin', really." He glances to the door, then back - "B'yond what were right. What 's this, then?"

"I have not seen either," Syton replies to Celeste. He fidgets a bit, shifting on his stool and running a hand through his hair. "Is there some particularly pressing business that you need to bring to their attention, or is it just more of the same?" He glances sideways to Blackfox and offers, as an aside, "Once again, I just wanted to offer my best wishes on a speedy recovery."

"Only that Lucius said that we will be departing in the next few days to return to Fastheld. I wanted to speak with him of what Thayndor and I had spoken of earlier is all," Celeste replies towards Temple. Her hands retreating back into the folds of the leather cloak to pluck at the velvet tunic.

How perfect is Lucius's timing as he walks into the room, calm and reserved in contrast to his latest bearing these days. Immediately, the man walks towards the bar area to get food.

"I had heard you might be leaving soon," Fox says, "Or possibly pushing onward? Has the decision been made?" As to the package, it has a familiar feel as a dark leather vest, scrubbed as clean as a one armed hunter could make it, is folded within.

Kael shrugs. "I got no idea - but I been thinkin'." He sets his pack down, opening it to rummage through - "... if nothin' else, y' kin barter it off, aye? But shoul' keep y' set regardless as t' what th' rest o' them 's plannin'." He glances up - "woul' make me feel right 'bout it, 't least."

Celeste's response seems to take Syton by surprise. For a moment, a brief, crystal clear moment, he is actually quiet. The pressure builds below the surface, for a time, before bursting forth in a steady stream of words. "We are going back to Fastheld? What happened to going North and finding what we were after? We just come up here and then turn around and head back without actually doing what we came here to do in the first place? It does not make the slightest bit of sense."

"That's what I need to speak to Lucius about. He and the Archon were speaking about our trip. That the mountains may be impassible or something. Or that perhaps we were not enough in numbers. Thayndor wishes to hire more so that we can continue onward towards the..what did you call it again Master Firelight," A hint of a smile coming to Celeste's lips at the remembrance.

After finishing consuming his large meal in a short few minutes, Lucius turns around to survey the rest of the tavern. He picks out a group of his friends and grabs a mug of ale, then walks towards them. "Hail." He calls out.

It's not long before Kael's got that short axe of his, laying the shining - and well-used steel on the table for Fox. "There - y' kin find a use fer 't, m' sure." He looks up to Cele.. "nae sure - th' midget flyin' machine place, y' mean?"

Syton is silent only long enough for Celeste to finish her explanation. As she finishes, he begins to say a word--possibly starting with a "Bu..." sound, but he breaks himself off abruptly at Lucius's greeting. He turns sharply to face the man. "Lucius, what is all this that I hear about us going back to Fastheld?" Despite the suggestion of a question, he doesn't really pause at all. "After working so hard to purchase our progress, are we honestly going to throw it all away, only that we might try again and bring even more men into danger which we have already passed once?"

Arriving in with a clank and a jingle is none-other than Norran, carrying his claymore protectively by the ricasso grip in his left hand as he looks curiously about the tavern through a bored emerald gaze. Slowly making his way through the crowd, he begins to maneuver his way toward the bar, cloak swaying at the heels of his sabatons.

Celeste turns towards Lucius at Temple's address of the man. "Actually, I mentioned to Thayndor that you two may wish to speak." Celeste stands with Kael, Fox and Temple near the bar. "Course, he's speaking as though he wishes to continue."

Blackfox sits at the bar, a half empty mug of ale in front of her, "No," she is most definitive as she shakes her head, looking to Kael. "I will take nothing more from you. You have done me no wrong despite what you claim and I will deprive you of nothing, least of all your vest or your axe."

Returning to the Golden Dragon is everyone's favorite and slightly confused ranger. The man ducks inside, the door thudding closed behind him as he looks about, fixing his eyes immediately to the bar. Seeing his comrades still about, he makes his way towards.

"Syton, sit down. All of you, sit down, please." Lucius states, lifting his mug to his lips and drinking deeply of the ale. The man's green blue eyes dart from person to person, noting who is here and who isn't. "It would be a lie if I said that I wanted to return to Fastheld emptyhanded. The adventurer and idealist in me wants to continue on into the Wilderness. But then there's realist in me." He says gruffly.

"I have spoken to half a hundred or more people who live in Crown's Refuge about the Dragonspine mountains. You've seen their size. They are like nothing that exists, or that we know of, hundreds of times the size of the Aegis. And therein lies the problem." Lucius continues after a short pause. "The people who live here, the rangers, the ordinary folk from all around the WIldlands who've come here to make a living.. they say that the only pass they know of through these impenetrable mountains is called the Tiers of the Dead. The Tiers of the Dead, unfortunately, are controlled and located at Ebonhold. Ebonhold will not let us in. This is a certainty. People have seen the airships around and about for a long time. Nobody knows where they come from. Are we going to search thousands of miles of mountain to find these people? No, this is foolish. If they look they will find us, easily. We have made contact with Crown's Refuge and can now venture out into the Wildlands at our own pleasure, or that of the Emperor's, but we neither have proper will nor way to find this place."

Perfect timing. Hair bound tightly, Milora Lomasa slips into the tavern and hovers for a moment by the door, having just caught the majority of Lucius Nepos' speech. Her face is stern and wry; her expression is -- almost unreadable. She appears to have a purpose, but her eyes scan the room before she does anything.

With great difficulty, Syton holds his tongue through Lucius's speech, and for a few moments afterwards. He is obviously unhappy, his frown and wrinkled forehead being obvious enough signs of that. Despite the change in mood, his energy does not suffer; it merely manifests itself as an uncomfortable fidgetting.

His pace slowing somewhat as he hears the discussion in progress, a small frown crosses Wolfsbane's face. He pauses, not moving any closer, his arms crossing at his chest as he watches from a small distance.

Celeste reaches out a hand to touch Temple's arm, a reassuring gesture or perhaps meant to be. "Yes Lucius, but we need to speak with Thayndor as well. He's intent on carrying out the Emperor's will." Her voice somewhat strained as she addresses the man. "I mentioned that you had spoken with the Archon and such, and he's mentioned staying on the ship so that it doesn't sail away without."

Norran, however, doesn't seem to hear much beyond the tavern's din. He turns about initially to flash a smile toward Milora as she enters, walking to approach her and reaching a hand for her shoulder. "Milora! Thought you took better to the Southern Cross than here...is something wrong?" he queries, brow arching inquisitively at her expression.

"Therefore, I want to know what everybody here thinks. This is something important, something which will confirm the rest of our trip." Lucius says very simply, putting his half finished drink down on the table and crossing his arms over his beautifully crafted segmented cuirass. "A bloody hole in the ship. He's a fool if he thinks anything more can be accomplished. If he was so intent on leaving, then why haven't we done so yet? Because he's got no plan of his own, other than to wander in the woods. He is more lost than any of us, a man of the sea on land. But please.. what do you think. Not what does Thayndor think. A pound of salt for Thayndor's thoughts." He is obviously quite vexed at the mention of the man's name.

Kael frowns at Fox.. but is distracted by Luc. He does, however, leave that axe on the table - ".. wi' all respect, Lucius - I were asked t' see this through, an' will, whate'er ye, th' Count, n' master Wolfsbane decide - follow ye. M' nae one t' care 'bout a flyin' ship filled wi' half-men - but I ken m' duty 'ere. What y' decide, I follow, aye?"

Blackfox sits silently to one side of the group, listening without comment, the axe untouched. She does, however, lose interest in the ale, her hand coming to rest lightly on the hilt of her knife.

Taking Norran's arm in hers, Milora stands on her toes to whisper something into the high time we do something worth our while - something useful;. Anything useful," Milora says, her voice barely carrying over to Lucius's place. "If one can contract cabin fever on dry land, I have. ... I'll follow anyone who leads me somewhere."

Taking Norran's arm in hers, Milora stands on her toes to whisper something into the nobleman's ear. Her attention is then given to Lucius as she walks toward Wolfsbane, meeting him at his halfway-point between the door and the bar. No greeting is given him, because her attention is focused on Master Nepos; Norran is taken with her if he allows it. "It's high time we do something worth our while - something useful. Anything useful," she says firmly, her voice barely carrying over to Lucius's place. "If one can contract cabin fever on dry land, I have. ... I'll follow anyone who leads me somewhere."

Asking Syton's opinion, in his current state, seems to have been a dangerous proposition. He speaks immediately and at great speed, not stopping for any distraction or interruption. "Do not misunderstand me, I have no intention of dying so that Count Darkwater can return to the Emperor and get a pat on the back, two more castles, and three more mistresses, but I think going back right now would be a mistake. I have no desire to lose the ground that we have gained, not without at least making an attempt at the task before us. If I recall correctly, insurmountable tasks seem to be a common thing out here, and are more often than not, easier than they appear. Not easy, by any stretch, but easier, at least. Moreover, it could be months before we get back out here again. Whatever changes, something will change, and we will be faced with an entirely new set of obstacles, which will seem just as unanswerable as those we face now, though the weather may be warmer." As he speaks, a sound of relief creeps into his voice, as though he had an urgent need to be rid of his words.

The ranger's attention drops to Milora and Norran briefly as they moves past him, before it fixes back on Lucius. He holds his tongue for the moment, listening to the back and forth. Most of it coming from Temple. His arms unfold, the man reaching under his cloak to draw a small patch of cloth from an inner pocket, rubbing it between forefinger and thumb.

"You know that I'm here only in the capacity of a priest, Lucius. If you wish to continue, then of course my mace is at your side." Celeste looks towards Temple, a sense of pride to her face before looking back to Nepos. "Perhaps it would be best for everyone to gather and then we can see what needs to be done, Lucius. Whether that be to journey forward, or further the way for travel between the Aegis and here. "

Norran smiles gently toward Milora and gives her a nod and a soft squeeze to the arm despite his gauntleted hand, following her toward Lucius and the others. He gives a nod toward Milora at her words, "I feel exactly the same. Just so long as we cease sitting about here, rotting I've walked around this township perhaps two or three times a day. I've seen no little men in airborne craft here. No reason to stay." He can only grin faintly toward Temple's reply, interjecting toward the end, "Yes, Master Temple. Things out here have been easy for us. Mostly because a drake did the work for us. I don't see any other timely interventions on the horizon."

"Terrible indecision! I am asking you all for what your opinion is on what to do. Thayndor will undoubtedly tug on north, into the known - what is known is that there is an impenetrable wall of rock with no recourse!" Barks Lucius. "I know this is not wise! Everything I've learnt out here is that our group will die in the mountains, likely by becoming so lost that is impossible to find our way back. Or else we will lose our way and survive, founding some little hamlet for no reason other than the glory of Thayndor. Soravyn says so. Fifty Wildlanders say so too, and we are simply foolish Imperials who think that our residence in Fastheld entitles us to superior intuition which we certainly do not have."

He nods at Syton; though he doesn't like his opinion, by the look on his face. "Thank you, Syton, for stating what you feel. I'll address what I feel to be fallacious with that after, but I respect your opinion. Celeste - we are all gathered here. Finding Thayndor when you need him is mostly impossible and I will not even attempt to affect a gathering better than that we have now. Ester has departed on her own, and Katrianna is off somewhere as well. We are here. So please. All your opinions. Home, where we are assured a normal existance and a pass at this opportunity again in perhaps a few months, or press on into the Wilderness, thousands of miles large where there are no passes getting to somewhere we don't even know."

Kael considers that, circling around the table a short distance - "... home. Heh." He glances to vhramis.. and then back to Lucius.. then across to the others. ".. we did nae ken much o' this place, afore w' got here. gettin' somewhere we donnae ken now hardly bothers me, Lucius. Been doin' that m' whole life, 'n one form o' another. But y' hae t' do what's right fer this bunch - n' what y' feel th' can do."

"Move us out." This decision is spoken free of teenage flippancy, despite its speaker - Milora makes this remark after listening carefully to Lucius' long speech, patting the Duke's arm gently and quirking an eyebrow at him and then at Vhramis in turn. "When we return we will be better prepared with regards to leadership and with regards to ourselves; I would like to improve drastically before taking on any wild mysteries, if I can. ... Anyway." This last bit is spoken with gravity. "This Wilderness of which you speak is a place that should be faced by a team that is capable of working as a unit."

Wolfsbane's eyes shift to the side and downward as he plays the spectator, the man beginning to rock slightly on his feet. Is he humming? It sounds it. A soft, barely audible tune, likely heard only by Milora and Norran due to their proximity.

The female Lomasa's voice finally catching the attention of Celeste, her own attentions turned towards the woman. "Is there not something that you need to say, Lady Lomasa?" Her eyes darting over towards Blackfox as if implying some action. "And I would agree about people acting as a unit. But as Temple said, we are here now. What we do with that time is precious....again, whether that is to press on or return. "

"Forgive me for speaking plainly, but did you see the last intervention on the horizon before he arrived, your Grace?" Syton says to Norran, sounding a tad argumentative. Despite his last monologue, he still has a generous supply of opinion, which he seems compelled to share. "I am not afraid of failure, so by all means, let us at least /try/. Caution serves its purpose, certainly, but it does not serve us well here. I believe that this challenge is not as impossible as it seems, and that we have at least a slim chance of accomplishing it, if we stay." Though he does not talk over anyone else, he also does not seem to listen much to what they are saying.

Sitting in Kael's shadow, the slender hunter's expression is difficult to read, though she looks to be rather tense, hand still resting on the hilt of her knife, though the blade is still safely sheathed.

"You did not answer the question, Celeste. Nor did you answer the question, Vhramis. I require this of all of you." Lucius taps Vhramis on his shoulder, deadly serious. "Temple - your argument is fallacious because we don't have the resources to move on. Nor do we lose any ground if we leave. In fact, we've gained something very valuable for Fastheld. This is a trading partner in the middle of the Wildlands of great power, and an ally. We have already failed. The entire plan that I made with Thayndor hinged on the ability to coerce the location of these air ship men out of the locals when we got here. We have been unable to do that. Our plan is a failure, then, and we must return to rethink it."

"Then I say we should leave," continues Norran after Lucius' words, shrugging his shoulders as he frowns faintly toward Celeste. "Easy on her, Celeste. You're not her mother after all," reminds the larger of the two Lomasa, his lips quirking into a faint grin near the end as he glances curiously toward the noblewoman beside him. "The sooner we get on that ship, the sooner we get off of it again."

Ignoring Celeste Mikin's words quite pointedly, Milora jostles Norran's arm and keeps her attention focused on Lucius for the time being. "M-" she begins, pausing and refraining from further speech for a moment. "We have failed. But we have gained enough knowledge to improve drastically. There is more hope for us if we return to Fastheld." With a sharp intake of breath, she looks at Vhramis.

Wolfsbane look up to blink at Lucius at the tap, the humming abruptly cutting off. "Oh. It's my turn?" he asks, tucking the patch of cloth away into his pocket again and letting his hand drop. "I can lead us to where ever I know. And some places I don't, likely. But as is said, there'll be much wandering. And suffering in the Drakespine, as well. I'm not worried about difficulty, so long as there's practicality to it." He furrows his brow at that, sucking his lips inward as he muses over something for a moment. "Right. Practicality," he mutters to himself, before speaking up. "The mountains aren't a place you want to wander aimlessly. I've been there. Dreadful place. Cold and rocky. The walking is rough, and despite how tight you keep your boots, you'll still get little pebbles and stones inside of them that bite at your feet. And then you have to go and take them off.." He blinks and pauses, before clearing his throat, looking a bit sheepish.

"I never claimed to be her mother, but if she's a noble..she best damn well act like one." Celeste bristles, taking a deep breath. "That also means making amends for your mistakes and not pretending as though they did not occur, no matter how embarrassing or ugly they are." She looks towards Lucius then. "I did answer your question, Lucius. I would prefer that we find what we seek, but if it means putting our trust into Drakes and prays..then perhaps it's better that we just return. I only mentioned it because of what Count Thayndor and I had spoken of earlier." She shakes her head. "We've not truly failed if we can forge an alliance with this city, but no one will see that..it's whether or not you reach the end...but not the journey that matters."

The clouds part, and Syton cracks a smile at Vhramis. The smile grows into a soft chuckle, which he tries to supress, causing his whole body to shake for a few moments. "Well-said," he adds, nodding to Wolfsbane. After a slow breath, Syton looks around at those gathered, and with somewhat improved humor, addresses them. "None of this expedition has gone according to plan, so far. We overcame one inconvenience and bartered our way out of the only serious obstacle we have faced thus far. I hear that we failed, and yet I find myself in a warm tavern, with a full stomach, and no arrow sticking through my shoulder." Finally, his attention returns to Lucius and he shrugs. "Still, I have no desire to face the world alone. If no one shares my opinion, then I will go with the group."

"I have spoken with four or five ranger types, Vhramis. They all said the same thing - that the only pass through the Dragonspine mountains they know of is the one which the Jadesnake travels through, by Ebonhold. Ebonhold guards the pass." Lucius nods at Celeste. "I would also prefer to find what we seek. That's why I came out here in the first place. Unfortunately, it's not possible." To Syton, "You speak vaguely, as if chance and luck are that which we must trust, Syton, when experience of those who have more than ours, facts and reality contradict. Your opinion is your own, but cold hard facts oppose it. And so does the fact that we must learn from our mistakes. A soldier who loses a battle and retreats to replan his strategy will be rewarded with victory, while the man who loses the battle and charges mindlessly at the enemy will die. Optimism has no place in the Wildlands. Yet, despite this, I do not understand why you would hold such an opinion - you don't offer a reason to contradict the logical assessment of many, other than trust in the Light? The Light does not want us to go to this place, right now. If it did it would offer us a way."

Norran blinks at the jostling, but otherwise remains un-perturbed as he shakes his head slowly. "To press on is foolhardy. The information has been relayed over and over, and is nigh-indisputable. There's no wisdom in pushing forward. We should go home to Fastheld, and tell Zolor that if he truely wishes to find these little men, he'd be better off sending an army."

Grinning widely at Vhramis, Milora then gives Celeste a meaningful look that carries on to Syton. "Master Nepos, did you ever expect the conclusion to be unanimous?" she asks mildly, glancing up at Lucius. There's irritation in her face, although it's unrelated to the subject at hand. "Let Master Temple reach a sound conclusion in his own time. I have never yet experienced a situation where the right and the wrong did not seperate clearly in the end - and what if by some fluke everyone here is wrong excluding him? We will have lost nothing, and as it stands, rationality is with us. By leaving Crown's Refuge we stand only to gain."

"It's a shame we don't have our own flying-floaty machine. Isn't it?" states Wolfsbane with a small shrug, lifting his hands to fold them behind his head. "Just get someone to make one. Then we can come back again. And we can fly right over the mountains. Wouldn't that be a sight, hm?" He leaves everyone with that thought as he turns about, heading to the door.

Syton shrugs lamely to Lucius. His edge seems to have dulled a bit. "All I am saying is that, as I see it, we have not failed, not yet... So we are not going back to Fastheld because we have failed, we are going back because trying would be difficult--perhaps impossible--but who can be sure? As logical and reasonable as that argument may be, I find it less compelling out here. In my experience, chance and luck play a much greater role out here than logic and reason, which means no task is impossible." He idly pokes a finger through the bloody hole in the shoulder of his armor, then shrugs once more. He turns to Milora and smiles at her warmly, "Even your disagreement is a joy to hear, Mily. But you are quite right, of course. It seems our path is set, so I will keep my dissent to myself."

"Light Keep you," Celeste states the general crowd. Casting a disappointed look at the younger Lomasa before turning her attention to Blackfox. "If there is anything I can assist with before we depart, you have but to ask, Blackfox." With those words uttered, she heads off for the door. One hand reaching to pull the cloak back into place as she moves towards the doorway.

Blackfox looks to Celeste as she rises smoothly to her feet, shaking her head as she glances at Milora, "I expected nothing less and after you leave, I expect the rest of Crown's Refuge might feel the same," she shakes her head as she moves for the door.

"Yes, I would prefer there to be a unanimous decision, Milora. Absolutely. That is acting as a unit in every sense of the word." Lucius replies off handedly to the small Lomasa. "I agree, Vhramis. One day." He chuckles at the man, lightheartedness regained. "If trying is impossible, then failure has been reached and one must reassess their position. Your experience out here is limited compared to mine and Vhramis's. Our collective experience is furtheremore even more limited when compared to even one of the Wildlander rangers I spoke to, who've all said it's foolish to think we've the resources with us to effect this. Without a pass in existance or a knowledge of where, in the one thousand mile mountain range, these ships come from, or if they come from beyond the mountains. But thank you for expressing what you feel. I too am off for the night."

Vhramis pushes out through the door and into the night.

"It would have been pleasant," agrees Milora, smiling at Syton. There may have been a 'however' on her tongue, but she seems content to let the man have the last word. Blackfox must pass her on the way to the door, as Mily is very close to it; she stays the woman with a sturdy hand and looks into the lighter green eyes with dignity. "I am extremely sorry for my behaviour at a prior date," she says audiably. "I will be pleased when your shoudler has mended." That said, she turns to Norran and raises her eyebrows.

Blackfox slips the hand and pays no heed and she heads out into the night in silence.

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