On the Point of Interrogation - Part I

Road's End Carriage Hub - 


 * ''The mainline Carriage Hub of the township of Road's End is a large station built of polished redwood and flax-hued riveroak timbers that acts as both a hub of transportation within the Empire, but also as a place where carriages can be constructed and repaired when not in use.


 * ''Like many other carriage stops in Fastheld, this carriage hub is not only roofed, but also mostly indoors, with carriages stored in coach-house styled bays until needed to ensure that wealthy Nobles and pragmatic Freelanders alike need not be subjected to the elements while waiting for a carriage to take them to where they need to be.


 * ''The scent of leather and timber hangs in the air without every really being unpleasant, reminding those who wait here of the dual-role that the Carriage Hub serves, while one might occasionally get a glimpse of carpenters delivering various parts for construction, blacksmiths delivering metal rims and bolts for wheels and carriage axes, and - if one is lucky enough - brand new carriages, freshly painted, being rolled out for distribution.

A slim and uncannily pale form loiters around the carriage hub, clad in somber black as dark as her hair- and as one half of the mage's mark that stains her cheek. Meian paces back and forth by the carriage stop's waiting point, soft face set into a thoughtful mask.

Trundle, rattle. There's a specific rhythm in the sound of the approaching carriage, though the nobleman within probably cares very little for that as he steps out. Making a face, Tahvron Driscol puts a hand to the small of his back, wincing as he hears it pop and muttering something less than completely polite about carriage travel in general.

Meian glances up and over at the carriage with little interest. Her gaze rakes over the unfamiliar nobleman and she turns, moving in no great hurry to step into the city at large. The occasional stare her marked face receives is met with little concern.

Tahvron snorts, pulling his cloak tighter about him as he straightens once more, and eyes the dampish heavens with a distinct look of distaste. "Positively delightful. More rain," he mutters, also turning towards the city proper.

Meian doesn't seem to yet notice that their paths coincide, as she ignores the rain to walk down the street with drifting steps. Dark hair is plastered to her face, sleek and clinging. Meian heads into Road's End.

Road's End - 


 * ''The gray stone face of the Aegis looms over a town that has grown where the roads end their northward march and the great wall begins, dividing the Empire from the Wildlands to the north. The scattered buildings that formed the foundation of the community were built by the armies of Talus Kahar I when construction of the Aegis took place after the Wildling War.


 * ''Though small by modern standards, Road's End is notable for two things. The first is that the majority of the township's population are either relatives or family or currently serving offiers of the Imperial Watch and Aegisguard, or retired officers of the former Emperor's Blades.


 * ''The second point of interest is the architecture, which is somewhat unique within Fastheld on account of all the buildings being log houses and cabins; namely, handcrafted houses that have typically been made from logs that have not been milled into conventional lumber.


 * ''Loyalty to the Empire is so fervant in Road's End that you can practically feel it in the air, and monuments and shrines to the fallen soldiers of Fastheld - both past and present - can be seen everywhere. Though lacking a palisade wall, Road's End does feature southern and western gates to control the flow of traffic in and out of the township, as well as perimeter fencing to stop wild animals from wandering into the area from out of the Kahar Woods.

Tahvron is a short step behind her, though he hardly seems to have noticed her yet. She's just the Freelander girl walking in front of him. Still grumbling at the sky, he pauses outside the carriage stop and casts a look about him.

Meian does much the same, halting not far from the carriage stop for a sweep of the streets. Pale eyes drift over Tahvron again on the way, but with equal disinterest- just the nobleman walking behind her. So she meanders on after that moment, turning toward the southern gate in no hurry.

Tahvron frowns vaguely as this mirrored motion, or perhaps it's the restart of movement after her brief pause, brings Meian to his attention. "Rain. No cloak," he mutters. "Either a sad or a stupid state of affairs."

Meian halts at that, half-turning back. "P-pardon, my lord?" she calls in a voice that's clear and calm, if thickened by her stutter. Her dark head cocks, viewing Tahvron at a slant.

"No cloak?" Tahvron asks, a little louder so she can here him. "Really, Mistress, in this weather? You are not in need of help, are you?" He smiles a little, a friendly, uncondescending thing most people probably don't expect from nobleman to Freelander.

Meian blinks at the tone, assessing Tahvron with a slight smile now. "I need none," the girl answers simply, gathering her damp chemise's hem so that she can curtsey. "T-thank you for your k-kindness, m'lord."

"Ah, you don't, now?" Tahvron lifts an eyebrow at that, though his manner has yet to take on the regality of most nobles. Eyes trail to the tattoo on her cheek, and he lets out a soft, "Ah." A statement of understanding, that is all.

Tahvron and Meian stand in the street as the heavens rain lightly, discussing cloaks. "I'm n-not breaking the A-amendment," Meian hastily clarifies with a shake of her head, combing damp tendrils of hair behind an ear. "It's... h-how I am, always like t-this. I n-no longer feel the c-cold or heat."

Road's End - where the Northtrail and Kahar Roads meet, and the Aegis looms to the north over the city. Men and women both stride around the main square on this cool, autumn late day. Some of them are Royal Guardsmen, many others are unarmoured, though they have the bearing of soldiers, and still others prowl respectably in mercenary attire, bearing the proud tabards and shields with the symbols of whatever companies they serve. This is truly a city of soldiers. Men walk by bearing old scars and wounds, some missing arms, legs, or eyes and everyone seems to take this as normal.

Near the Sword and Shield Tavern, which itself is only a stone's throw from the local carriage hub, an animated game of dice is taking place between of duty Royal Guardsmen, a few mercenaries and a man wearing segmented armour with the older symbol of the Blades etched - Lucius Nepos. Nepos appears to be losing. Lucky for them they are under an awning, shielding them from the rain. Nepos has a pipe in his mouth which he smokes busily, trying to vent his anger with burnt offerings.

Tahvron inclines his head. "A pity, that. At least, I should think so." He shrugs slightly. "You can neither feel the wet, which, be it warm water or cold, is a distinctly unpleasant thing in my rain-versed opinion." He smiles, for the moment unaware of Lucius and his dicing squad.

"Oh- w-well- mild w-warmth, mild c-coolness, the pleasant s-sort... I can s-still sense them. A t-touch, or a breeze," Meian clarifies with a little, self-conscious laugh. "I do f-feel the wet. But I l-like it. Ah... I a-am keeping you out in it, aren't I? I s-shouldn't..." A glance around the street, towards the tavern. "T-there's shelter, m'lord, if you've nowhere pressing..."

"C'mon, triple sixes come my way..." Lucius mumbles, blowing into his hands a big cloud of smoke which only comes out as he flings them across the dicing circle. The frown on his face only becomes more pronounced as he sees the result. "Ah shite!" One of the older gentlemen, with one eye, laughs at Lucius directly. "Not your day, eh Nepos?" Lucius just glowers back silently.

Tahvron laughs quietly. "Ah, I stop you to inquire about the whereabouts of your cloak, and yet it is you who keeps me out in the rain?" He snorts, eyes drifting towards the tavern, taking note of the Nepos Dicing Company with some wry amusement. "No, I have nowhere pressing to be at the moment," he answers Meian idly.

"W-well, I don't n-need a cloak, m'lord," Meian reasons deferentially with a bow of her head, "so it d-doesn't matter if you keep me in the r-rain, does it? I d-don't even know for s-sure where I am going... where it h-happened."

"I'm getting out before I'm forced out. Shades take ya'll, ya salty bastards." Nevermind the curse - it's lighthearted enough that Lucius is able to smile a little bit, dropping some coin into the circle's pot. He collects his rucksack, which has his shield, spears and helm strapped to it and heads inside.

"Where something happened, now?" Tahvron asks, making note of the departing dicer without attaching any real significance to it. "Ah, I see. You are here to investigate the hanged mage, no?" He purses his lips at the tavern door as it closes, fidgeting with the hem of his cloak.

"I want to learn of i-it, aye," Meian agrees, her tone more hushed and somber as she gravitates back towards the carriage hub. "B-but I'm n-not so sure where to start, m'lord. Legally I have l-little enough power to i-investigate anything..."

"Well, by asking questions of course," Tahvron says, pursing his lips as he watches her go and lifting a hand to wave her towards the tavern. "Join me in the tavern, Mistress, and I will aid you with discovering your starting point?"

"Aye," Meian says after a moment, slight smile curling thin lips. "It s-sounds as good a plan as any, m'lord." A duck of her head and she scampers for the tavern, hardly disturbing the puddles she breezes through on her way.

Tahvron smiles faintly, making some comment about chitters as he follows at a more sedate pace.

Tavern Hall - 


 * ''Ironically enough, here at the edge of the realm where the great Aegis rises to defend Fastheld against the Shadow's Touch, the Sword and Shield Tavern and Road's End itself are frequently touched by the shadow cast by the wall itself.


 * ''Once twilight descends on the town soon after midday, the tavern begins to fill for its peak hours. But it is often busy throughout the day and night, serving different shifts of Imperial Watch officers who work the wall, and freelanders and merchants who call the town home.


 * ''The tables are often thick with the Emperor's men, laughing and sharing stories about their exploits - some real, some fanciful, and others somewhere in between.

Lucius Nepos now sits at a table by one of the room's large fires, warming himself as he removes some armour to be more comfortable. He's got a pot of tea in front of him, freshly brewed, and a good portion of bread and stew.

The door opens once more and in drifts the slim, soaked Meian, unhurried in her escape from the rain. Nonetheless she moves toward the fires as well, with a blink and a nod for Lucius in recognition.

Tahvron follows shortly behind her, moving after the little mage towards the indicated table and sliding into a seat.

Lucius Nepos raises his hand in greeting to Meian, smiling. Tahvron, tall and dressed in velvets (hence, obviously a well fed nobleman) his given more than a nod, more like a bow in the head. "M'lord. Meian, what brings you to the town of soldiers?"

"Well, I would be a s-soldier myself, b-but none would take me," Meian retorts, though not angrily- more with a slight smile as she settles in. "T-that's not why I'm h-here, though. I h-heard something h-happened to a mage here, a couple weeks ago..."

Tahvron quirks an eyebrow at Meian's comment, a faint smile curving the corners of his mouth even as he gives Lucius a like nod. "Afternoon, Master." Allowing the Freelanders to chat, he flags down a barmaid and puts in an order for wine.

"Soldier in the Guard, Meian? I'm surprised, you never seemed the type. I'm sure you can find a House Guard to do that in, though." Lucius offers a shrug. "That's why I'm here, too. It's Church meddling, I know this for a fact. I'm not much of an investigator, either. Just a do-er." He pats first his cuirass, then his scabbard, grinning.

"I never knew w-what I wanted," Meian says lowly. "N-now I do. It's p-probably hopeless, but I'm going to try." She folds thin legs together at the ankle, dripping on the floor. "For a f-fact, aye? C-can I ask h-how you know, Lucius?"

Tapping one finger idly on the tabletop, Tahvron waits for the maid to return, listening to the conversation with only half an ear. A speculative eye does pass over Meian, though, with all this guard talk.

"Aye. A mercenary captain whose company the Church used told me. They took his company away from him, used them to kill Syladri and at Night's Edge. Then the Church man killed the remainder of the company, except for the Captain who he spared. He's up here, now, the Church man." Lucius explains, briefly asiding, "Do you know where you want to serve?"

Meian's eyes narrow speculatively. "Do y-you know the name of the m-man?" she hazards, dark brows flattering into a thin line. "I m-might have e-encountered him before." There's a moment's pause where all that seriousness gives way to an abashed little pursing of lips, the girl's pale gaze dropping to the table. Very quietly, she confesses, "I t-think that... I t-think I would like to be a K-knight."

Tahvron receives his wine from the barmaid, watching the two over the rim as he sips, but not yet interrupting.

"Royal Knights are only nobles. House Knights are a different story - that depends on the House. I know the Driscols, well, I think, they accept citizen Knights" Lucius says firmly, and without pausing a beat, "His name's Larrin. Don't know the last name. Silveredge Mercenary Company. Don't matter, we cut him loose when we were done with him. I think Vhramis is following to make sure he don't do anything fishy." His voice registers absolutely no emotion, eyes darting to the noble and then back to the waifish lady.

"I was g-going to maybe t-talk to Lord Duhnen a-about it and see if it w-weren't too impossible for... Someone like me," Meian settles on with an uncomfortable shrug of her thin shoulders. "Hmm, no, I d-don't think t-that was his name...? B-but... b-but I saw some s-soldiers knock d-down the crystal t-tower. Y-you know, the old archmage's...?"

"Aye, near Aegisport? That place got knocked down?" Again, Lucius's expression and tone is almost completely bereft of emotion, though a tinge of relief can be made out in his voice, but only for a moment. "Huh. Well, the men of the Silveredge Company are all dead. So I don't think so. What in the Light did they knock it down with?" Another aside, "I'd talk to the Duke Driscol, maybe, instead. S'his House, right? Though I guess can't really go wrong with Lord Duhnen. He's a /Royal/ Knight, afterall. Don't see why it'd be impossible either. You've got a good head on your shoulders. Good in a fight, too."

"I f-figure Lord Duhnen might know if it was -worth- a-approaching the Duke, because..." Pale fingers idly brush against the Mark on Meian's cheek. "...It w-was... this m-machine made to throw giant rocks. Y-you put the rocks in a basket at one e-end, and p-pushed a lever, and t-they went flying. I t-tried to break it, but I m-mageblocked- but I think it got d-destroyed. Still, n-not until after the tower fell. It w-was... a couple w-weeks ago, this."

Lucius Nepos laughs. "Lord Duhnen's Touched too!" He notes, wryly, quieting down some when Meian explains the war machine. "Aye aye, a catapult. In the Blades the Engineer Corps had stores of 'em, and other more viscious siege machines. Not used too often except for training, and I don't personally know much on how to use 'em, either. I've seen them demonstrated before. Took down a stone wall that took a week to build in a few minutes. Huh... how in the Light did they get their hands on one of /those/?" He ponders.

"Yes, b-but he's a Touched n-nobleman, and he was the D-duke. Of c-course he'd have an a-advantage, but I..." Another little, tentative shrug, but Meian leans forward with greater interest at the mention of that. "T-they did l-look sort of like p-professional soldiers," the girl confesses. "D-do you think that t-they could have been former B-blades?"

"Wouldn't surprise me too bad. Men of all sorts in the Blades, and not all agreed with what happened in the Kingdom these last two years. I gotta say even /I/ question judgement of the Crown sometimes, even though I follow it pretty well." Lucius strokes his chin thoughtfully, drinking from his tea cup. "You know, the Cult hasn't done anybody any favours in the way it's presented itself. I know lots of people who loath it."

"I know," Meian sighs unhappily, leaning back in her chair. "Y-you'd think the old Church, t-they'd just wait... and s-step in subtly when everybody got u-unhappy with the Cult. Not l-like this, aye? M-making themselves undeniably, o-obviously in the wrong..."

"I'd say that a lot of people wouldn't agree that they're wrong. Night's Edge? No big love for that in the public. Road's End well, aye, it's a shame about the mage, and I suspect most agree. Terror tactics, though. If people see the Kingdom as responding weakly or not at all, they might want to switch sides. At least the Church /acts/ they might reason, y'know?" Asks Lucisu rhetorically.

Meian blinks at Lucius, nonplussed, and then slowly but firmly shakes her head. "P-people may not like the T-touched," she says softly, "b-but they a-aren't going to stand f-for them being hanged in p-public for no reason. If t-they were okay w-with that the old Church n-never would have fallen. T-terror tactics, but t-they won't turn to the *bad* guys..."

"Not everyone sees them as the bad guys. The Church also fell because the internal discord, and cause the Crown declared it outlawed. Those are big reasons than people not being happy or what." Lucius remains steady, gulping down some more tea. "Besides, they can just see the reaction of people to their tactics and adjust suitably. They're not stupid, neither. They learnt from the idiotic actions of the last Inqusitor, Bandus Flint. He inspired hate... they're not likly to be stupid anymore."

"I don't t-think they've got m-much of a chance. Though m-maybe I just don't want them t-to," Meian sighs unhappily, shoulders sagging. "Ohhh, I don't k-know. All I c-could try to do is... h-help the Crown h-handle problems like t-this one, aye?"

Lucius Nepos chuckles. "Aye, aye. S'what I'm doing. M'lord Varal dissapeared, so now I'm heading up the rotten band of the Adventurer's Guild. I loathe it, the Guild's not effectual. Bunch of weekend warriors so to speak. That said, I'd like ya to join it. The more the better, and it means we can concentrate. It also means ya'd have a good deal more power than a citizen right now, cause on this the Grand Master gave us a commission, so to speak. We're speakin' for him, kinda."

Meian tilts her head, studying Lucius with quiet interest. "W-what would be my d-duties and r-responsibilities?" she asks softly, leaning forward a touch in her seat.

"Keeping on doing what you're doing, really. In this case you're doing what we're doing. After that, you're only called if yer needed. Or you can go to a Knight if you find anything worth doing and ask them to allow you to check it out. Best if they come with, usually. Exceptional circumstances mean that the Grand Master kinda gave this one to us." Lucius answers.

"T-that sounds... fair enough," Meian laughs, the sound nearly a giggle in her girlish voice. "Aye, I'll d-do it. I want to help... s-somehow. B-because it feels as if... w-well, it feels as if t-terrible things are drawing n-nigh."

"And that's only worrying about internal stuff. I don't mean to disparage the Guard, they're wonderful fightign men and women but.. they arent' military like the Blades were. We need at least a small amount of fighting soldiers back. We never know what's coming from the outside while things here are taking turn for the worse. Aye, you're in, then. Just like that. I need to go settle my room and arrange some affairs. That said, keep doing what you're doing. Work with whoever ya can." Lucius says, rising from his seat. He oncemore grabs his ruck.

"I'll d-do what I can," Meian answers simply, bowing her head to Lucius as he rises. "...And t-tell you if I f-find anything out. L-light keep."

"Light keep ya too, Meian. I'd seriously consider getting that removed." Lucius motions at his eye and then marches off, upstairs.

The only reply is a soft, silvery laugh.

Tahvron taps the table, considering Meian for a moment or two after Lucius leaves to go upstairs and finishing off the remainder of the wine. "The knighthood, mm? What is your weapon of choice, exactly?"

Meian glances back to Tahvron, her smile slight and diffident. "W-when I can't u-use my magic, knives and b-bows. Not very c-chivalrous weapons, I k-know. I just w-want to protect the people of F-fastheld from the darkness that is c-coming."

Tahvron nods slowly, still considering her. "Ever considered learning something else? Swords, perhaps? They are a more common weapon to the knights, and the training would probably raise you higher in the view of my Duke."

"I h-have. But f-first I wish to speak with the f-former Duke, Lord D-duhnen... to know if t-there is any chance at all," Meian explains diffidently, gaze slanting aside.

"Mm. Well, I don't know why there shouldn't be," Tahvron says with a wave of his hand and a small shrug. "Then again, I am not my Duke."

Tahvron and Meian sit at a table near the fireplace.

"I am n-not typical material for the job," Meian says mildly, and leaves it at that. Pale eyes rove restlessly over the gathered faces, the ladymage somewhat damp but seemingly untroubled by it. "I s-suppose I ought to a-ask the barkeep..."

Tahvron smiles faintly, but doesn't press *that* subject. "Yes. That is a reasonable place to start, I should think."

The door creaks open and shut; in the intervening time a tall and slim figure enters the hall, cloak obscuring his features. The man heads towards a corner table, giving sidelong glances left and right as he goes.

"If y-you would, my lord? I m-may have just received... s-something of a legal commission, but it is n-nothing so visible a right to a-answers as you have." Meian half-rises, offering a quiet and somehow apologetic smile.

Tahvron glances aside to the stranger as he enters the room, but his attention slides back to Meian as she makes her request, and he smiles a little, nodding and rising. "I have little enough reason not to."

Meian pushes in her chair with a diffident nod, taking in a deep breath. Steeling slim shoulders, the little mage proceeds to the bar with a stride that betrays no hint of uncertainty. She leans against it smilingly, content it seems to await the bartender's notice.

The stranger eases into his seat at the corner, setting down the large backpack and the longbow that accompanied him on his journey. Safely out of the center of attention, he pulls back his cloak cowl and peruses the patrons in the room. It's Thayndor Zahir.

Catching the removal of the cowl out of the corner of his eye, Tahvron smiles slightly, offering the faintest nod of recognition as he proceeds up to the bartender. A small motion of his hand beckons Meian to join him, and he slides onto a barstool. All at once, the commanding, self-assured air of a nobleman drops over him like some invisible cloak, and he waves the man to him. "Evening, Master. A couple questions, if you please?"

Meian takes a seat next to Tahvron, and though no trick of bearing can erase the fact she is a slightly damp Freelander mage... she sits upright with perfect poise, radiating self-assurance in the set of her narrow jaw and soft features. "M'lord's looking into the recent troubles here," she puts in demurely, voice clear and steady.

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