Unmarked Package

'''The Wailing Wench Tavern: Tavern Hall


 * The Wailing Wench Tavern stands as one of the largest publican services in the Empire, acting as both a Tavern and Inn for those who wish to partake of that which it offers. A four-level structure if one counts the basement, the Wailing Wench features the main tavern hall on the ground floor, private lodging and rooms on the second floor, an as-yet unconverted loft for storage and the occasional private deal (or proverbial roll in the hay), and the previously mentioned basement, which is sealed via an exceptionally complicated lock that can only be opened by the owner, though very rarely is.


 * The tavern hall itself is a mostly "L" shaped affair, split between the large and equally spacious rectangular tavern itself, and the segregated kitchen area hidden in a room at to the right of the bar. That bar rests at the southern end of the "L", features a rich and polished redwood surface and counter, complete with barstools and an elegant display of hanging mugs and tankards. An uncountable number of bottles rest in wineracks that span the length of the wall behind the bar, while barrels of ale and mead stand off to the sides.


 * Wooden beams the shade of ecru yellow comprise the well-trodden floor, while khaki-shaded granite forms the walls, with the upper halves being paneled in wood that exists as the same colour as the floor. Redwood support beams and highlights finalize the colour scheme, giving the Wailing Wench a very rustic and inviting feel to it. Redwood tables and chairs span the length of the hall, while benches and booths line the walls to provide extra seating to those that want it.


 * A redwood staircase ascends in a "T" shape to the second floor via the eastern wall just next to the bar, while a performance stage ingresses from the middle of the western wall to the left of the main door that rests in the northeast of the "L".


 * Paintings of various busty maidens and wenches on the walls contrast against the real things that serve ale and various other pleasures - some of the flesh - to those that desire them, regardless of gender or class. Cleavage is on tap here as much as the ale, as are periods of high spirits and entertainment, and quieter times of subtle conversation and talespinning. Stained glass windows prevent the troubles of the world from getting into the establishment.

"Good things," Gefrey says firmly. He smiles. "You're loved by the Light, my Lord Tor. You'll do well, I think."

"I suppose it does, my Lord Gefrey," Tor says, responding to Gefrey in kind. Peers at Kael. "Kill you, Master Firelight? Even if I had such a wish, I would not know how to go about it. I would be more likely to stab myself with a sword than another person."

Kael smiles, but doesn't look up. "Wi' change ye. Allus does. t' what - who kin say?"

Gefrey Seamel grins. "I'm not sure it will give the cat-killer Baron great ability with swordsmanship, though," he teases, giving Tor a pat on the shoulder. "But, hmm, I'll be interested in seeing what it /does/ do."

"As would I Gefrey, as would I," Tor says quietly, closing his hand, the ball of light disappearing. "My. Perhaps it will be useful to make my hand glow when speaking with the regent," he adds self-depreicatingly.

"Heh. Y' shoul' talk t' folk like Celeste." Kael shakes his head. "donnae discount e'en th' simplest thing."

Gefrey Seamel smiles. "We could go find her," he offers. "And, well, perhaps this won't make you a fine swordsman, but it is a good thing, still, and rather obviously useful I would say."

Tor Nillu blinks at Kael. "Viscountess Mikin? Why?" he asks, baffled.

"b'cause sh' is touched by th' light 's ye are, 'n were once a Scourge. Kin likely help y' t' understand what y' are, an' what 't kin /mean/ t' be what y' are." Kael stuffs that rock back into that belt pouch.

Gefrey Seamel raises an eyebrow at Tor. "Shall we go to speak to her?" he asks the other man. "I'm sure she wouldn't mind. She's a kind woman, indeed."

+ Heralded by a cry of pain, Taran fades into existence, six lines of glowing blue seeming to 'draw' them into reality.

Tor Nillu peers at Kael and blinks. Several times. "My... I did not expect it..." he says with a frown. Then stands at the cry of pain, his chair being knocked over, looking around for the source. He and Gefrey were at a table near the fire, Kael sitting by the fire.

The freelander-mage looks up only slowly, blinking - doesn't /stand/, no - just looks up and.. stares. Perhaps a bit on the speechless side.

Gefrey Seamel doesn't waste any time as he stands, dropping a hand to the sword hilt at his side. "Guardsman," he calls out, scanning the room for the source of the cry. "What happened there?" And because /someone/ had to see that in a crowded tavern at dinnertime, one person in the crowd shrinking away from the tall mage points at Taran.

Taran staggers, hand to his head as he comes into being...in the middle of the tavern. That's a lot of ranger-bard to be staggering about, but a bright argentite staff gets thunked down almost at once to steady him. "...Light, I hate having to...do that," he grumbles, then looks around through squinted eyes at the apparently too-bright tavern. "....Clooooooooose," he decides. "No cigar." He waves a hand at the bunch of freaked out people. "S-sorry to disappoint you, no invasion today. Aimed for the north-gate and missed, that is all, will happily walk out if it is not raining puppies." Got a very firm hand on that staff, though, as an aide to not wobbling.

There is but one guard - and yes, there are patrons. And yes, several are edging away from Taran - nobody's /yet/ started screaming. Not /yet/. More than one muttered 'Light' ripples through the crowd - and after recent events? Who can blame them, perhaps? But the mood is rapidly disentigrating, turning ugly and fearful quickly.

Tor Nillu's eyes focus on Taran, quickly scanning him for a Mark. Almost instantly he's...standing just slightly behind Gefrey. "An Unmarked mage?" he asks, sounding just a little worried. "I have no sword, Gefrey," he says softly, breathing it into the other man's ear. "And I do not think a glowing ball will do much to defend us." Kael is forgotten, for now.

Gefrey Seamel steps forward, keeping his hand on his sword. "Guardsman," he commands. "Apprehend this man. Do not arrest him just yet, but take hold of him, keep him under control." To the rest of the bar he says. "There is no reason to panic. The situation is entirely under control." He keeps a tight grip on his sword as the Seamel guardsman steps forward, to restrain Taran as per orders.

Kael just stands, muttering. "If 's nae one flamin' idiot - " He looks around the room in an obvious brain-gears-grinding moment, searching, apparently, for options.

The crowd isn't /mollified/, but they're not screaming and panicking yet. Whispers of 'Songbird', 'mage', 'mark' and other notes - some less polite, some more, circulate quickly - some of the less-brave souls already dive for the door and out into the street. The rest just... remain on the edge of panic, backing away or staying as unobtrusive as they can manage.

Taran hardly resists, though he does take note of the physical contact. "Fine, fine," he sighs, as if this were an entirely trivial matter. "The north gate, if you please? I could use a night of rest if you *really* want to throw the Ambassador of Crown's Refuge into a cell, I am sure it would amuse Duhnen greatly, but unless you Imperials want to deal with a horde of acarits and gargoyles, you will allow the Wildlanders to deal with their own problems and kindly overlook my terrible aim tonight." He closes his eyes, as on a ferocious headache. "I would certainly have preferred to ride, but there was not time. And the emotional aura in here is doing nothing whatsoever for my headache."

Tor Nillu closes his eyes for a moment as Gefrey moves forward, concentrating on his hand. A medium sized ball of light appears, casting it's... uh.. light over the room. He holds it up in the air, trying to get people's attention. While surprised, he maintains his decorum. "People of.." he pauses, looking around for a moment. "The Wailing Wench. The situation is under control. Do not panic, merely clear the way to the door and let us through as we deal with this intruder."

Gefrey Seamel smiles to Tor, then walks away from him to the mage and guardsman. "You say his Grace knows you?" Gefrey asks. "Well, then, he can come visit you later. Right now, however, what I see is an unmarked mage who has appeared in the middle of our tavern, disturbing the peace in a place where we are already having trouble. Yes, you will spend the night in prison, ambassador." He pauses. "And if you do have information on these gargoyles, we will hear it from you, or my cousin will, when he comes to see you. This way, now." He starts to walk for the door without another word.

Kael takes a step after both men - abruptly wild-eyed - but it says something for the mage's restraint that he doesn't yet chase after Taran and Gefrey and the guard.

The crowd just... stares, watching events as they unfold.

Taran smiles a small, amused, 'you really think so?' sort of smile, but - keeping his eyes quite closed - allows himself to be led off. "I will have flowers sent to the tavern as an apology for the unintended disturbance," is all he has to say on the matter.

Tor Nillu follows after, keeping the light held aloft. Perhaps even a beacon to their location as he follows after. At a distance.

'''Northreach Constabulary


 * When an outsider commits an offense against the property or person of a member of House Seamel or other landed citizen of Northreach, or when two Seamel kinfolk cannot settle a dispute through negotiations, their issues are brought before the constabulary. It is the constable's role to hear the facts involved in a dispute, to question the accused, the aggrieved and any available witness, and then to make a ruling.


 * This chamber, contained within a structure of quarried gray stone, has a raised biinwood platform where the Constable sits in judgment, chairs for witnesses, two holding cells for prisoners, and four long pews for members of the public to assemble and observe the proceedings.

From Northreach Constabulary - Cell, The guards are.. polite, but thorough. Staff and knife, sheath - these things are removed quickly, the pouch tossed, the quiver and bow taken as well. wary as they are, the work quickly and professionally - obviously, they've had recent experience. The lute is a problematic thing, until Taran's combination of wild threat at harming the famous instrument coupled with the fact that he promises to play later has them allowing hiim to keep it, for now. One looks to Gefrey asking, politely, "Y' want the chains and such, M'lord?"

From Northreach Constabulary - Cell, Gefrey Seamel nods to the guards. "May as well," he says, "for the sake of being thorough, if nothing else. I'm unsure if they will hold them, but do go on."

From Northreach Constabulary - Cell, Taran shakes his head. "I cannot play my Lute with my booted feet," he says. "I will play along this far, no farther. The Archon of Crown's Refuge will not be pleased to hear of this. Allow me the indulgence of not having to tell her."

Tor Nillu sights, standing outside the cell and extinguishing his ball of light by closing his hand once more. "...perhaps the Light truly does love me," he says softly before looking back to the going-ons inside the cell. "I would expect that the Archon of Crown's Refuge would understand the rules of Fastheld and expect her Ambassador to abide by them," he states coldly. Oh yeah, brave now the big bad mage is locked away.

From Northreach Constabulary - Cell, Gefrey Seamel nods in agreement with Tor, stepping out of the cell himself. "Hopefully, yes. And you will be shackled, ambassador, until his Grace can come speak with you. Perhaps it will all turn out as you say, but for the moment, we have a mage, unmarked, who appeared out of thin air and frightened an entire tavern full of citizens. We must be quite firm with this situation."

From Northreach Constabulary - Cell, Gefrey Seamel taps on the door - after a moment, being allowed by the guards to pass back into the constabulary proper.

From Northreach Constabulary - Cell, The guards close in after Gefrey steps out - bearing manicle and shackle.

From Northreach Constabulary - Cell, Taran sighs and allows himself to be shackled. "Go away," he tells the nobles. "You bore me, and I have a headache. I have no time for children."

"Foolish words, mage," Tor says, shaking his head and stepping backwards nonetheless. "I follow your lead, my Lord Seamel."

Gefrey Seamel sighs, putting a hand to his forehead. "Let's be on our way," he says. "The ambassador will need his rest, and we don't need to hear this grief from him."

From Northreach Constabulary - Cell, Taran stretches out on the floor of his cell, his bright-stringed Lute across his lap and his manacled hands behind his head. Eyes closed, the lanky giant...dozes.

From Northreach Constabulary - Cell, As the ambassador offers no resistance, the guards - when done with their work, move back out into the hall, locking the door behind them.

Tor Nillu nods to Gefrey. "i should be most interested in how your cousin deals with him."

Northreach: Sinistral


 * Dubbed the Sinistral District due to it resting west of the main Medial District, this area of Northreach seems consist entirely of townhouses and estates, with the occasional spacious Manor adding a level of affluence to the area, though reinforcing the notion that this is very much a district given over to residences.


 * The Manors and Noble Estates stand out from the crowd by usually being fenced off with iron gates, covering a substantial amount of land within the populous of Freelander homes. Transplanted trees and hedges give the district a touch of color, and it could all look as if it were Hawk's Aerie were it not for the looming shadow of the Aegis acting as a northern wall, with the stone palisade running across the western fringe and back around to the south.


 * The Huntsmoon Lodge is located here, acting as a faux-Guild Hall for the various Hunters and Rangers that wish to explore the Wildlands but return to the safety of Fastheld, standing as an entirely wooden structure within an ocean of granite and pestle buildings.


 * A Manor known as Fort Morningstar also provides a home for the officers of the Imperial Watch stationed here, while two estates known as Ivory Manor and Swiftwolf Manor stand out as notable against the skyline of the district; the latter perhaps remaining far more opulent than the location befits. The lush Park District can be found to the south, while the Medial District rests to the east.

Gefrey Seamel frowns as he steps out. "I'm uncertain of how he will," Gefrey says. "If that man is the ambassador I've heard of, well, we'll likely have to let him out into the wildlands again. Though I must say, that was a poor choice of ambassador.

"Indeed," Tor says, stepping out behind Gefrey. "I trust I did not overstep my bounds with the light? Truth be told I was not expecting it to work...."

"No, I believe that may have helped a little," Gefrey says, smiling at the Nillu. "Though it didn't do much to keep you in cognito. Thank you, Tor."

Tor Nillu bows his head a little. "You are welcome Gefrey," returns the Nillu. "And incognito be damned. Full-blown panic would have been dangerous at a time like this. We needed to show that Northreach is under control."

Gefrey Seamel frowns. "Yes," he says. "And now, we need to go to the north gate. There are wildlanders camped there, and it may be a good idea to at least speak to them about this."

Tor Nillu nods, striding quickly alongside Gefrey. "Indeed. It would probably be best."

Gefrey Seamel sets off at a brisk walk toward the East.

Gefrey Seamel walks away toward the East.

Tor Nillu sets off at a brisk walk toward the East.

Tor Nillu walks away toward the East.

'''Northreach: Medial District


 * Having grown in the shadow of the northern Aegis wall, the Seamel township of Northreach is somewhat of a dark horse; a dark horse in both a literal and metaphorical sense, no less. Much of the township is often set in perpetual shadow, cast by the six-hundred foot wall that looms above it, making it a somewhat cold and umbral township, though one that tends to import a lot of torches and lanterns.


 * However, in the literal sense, Northreach is a township that developed entirely beyond the public eye. It grew as a township that drew little attention, funded by a mysterious benefactor of House Seamel, while the Empire left the construction of the North Gate to the Imperial Watch and their engineers. Thus the two grew in tandem, and the unveiling of Northreach as a township around that awesome gate was a surprise to all.


 * As a location, Northreach drips Imperial architecture and style. Most of the buildings that form the moderate township are neatly arranged around main roads, with passages and alleys running between them, with no sense of crowding to be found. Townhouses of charcoal granite walls and timber support beams dominate the architectural design of the township, with larger estates providing the various services that all townships offer, as well as a few that remain unique to Northreach alone.


 * The Wailing Wench Tavern, a large inn and publican building, stands in the very middle of what is known as the Medial District, acting as a central hub of activity. Directly next to the Tavern rests a two-story building belonging to the Steelwood Company, while the Swiftwolf Archery Tradehouse stands near to it as an equally large merchant townhouse, while smaller trade buildings flank them on all sides, attempting to profit from the trade they draw in.


 * The North Gate looms in the north within the gap in the Aegis, while the southern gate that leads back onto Northreach Road is to the south. The Sinistral District, acting as the residence district, rests to the west, while the Dextral District, acting as the trade district, can be found to the east.

Tor Nillu walks in at a brisk pace.

Gefrey Seamel smiles faintly. "Politically, this could be some trouble," he says. "But... Hmm. Never mind. Little we can do, isn't there?"

Tor Nillu nods to Gefrey. "Had we done nothing? Politically it would have been worse. And I suspect the reaction from your cousin would have been interesting, to say the least."

Duhnen Seamel arrives from The Wailing Wench Tavern: Tavern Hall

Gefrey Seamel nods. "Too true," he says with a frown. He and Tor are walking for the North Gate. "Well, let's see what we can manage, speaking with them."

Tor Nillu nods in agreement. "And that reminds me, I must find Duchess Nillu."

Gefrey Seamel nods to Tor. "Take care, then, Tor," he well-wishes with a smile. "I'll see you later, then."

Tor Nillu shakes his head. "I do not mean -immediately-, Gefrey. I will accompany you to the North Gate first. Besides," he confides. "I must say I am curious as to the manner of people these Wildlanders are."

Duhnen emerges from a side street, adjusting his cloak. The man strides along, making his way generally towards the Sinistral district.

Gefrey Seamel stops, looking over to Duhnen. "You've heard the news, then, your Grace?" he asks.

Tor Nillu stops beside Gefrey, letting the Seamels deal with eachother.

Glancing over to Gefrey, Duhnen nods his head. "Yes. Just what this city needs. More panic," he replies with a grimace. "Well done. I'm going to speak with him now."

Gefrey Seamel nods to Duhnen. "Good luck, then, your Grace," he says. "I... had an interesting time trying to speak with this one. You might need it."

Tor Nillu nods as well, keepig his head inclined downwards.

"I can handle him," Duhnen shrugs at that, nodding to Tor, and looking forward to move away.

Duhnen Seamel takes off at a run toward the West.

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