Marionettes of Fate

Snowflake Center - Entrance Hall


 * The entrance hall of the Snowflake Center is a spacious chamber where many works of art and crafted items are put on display in showroom exhibits around a broad marble floor that provides ample space for reception gatherings and dance training. An archway leads into the main corridor of the facility, known as the Grand Spoke.

Soft footsteps are heard against the ground of the Snowflake Center's Entrance Hall. Two pairs of heels tap together in a dance that somewhat resembles a waltz at first, but then at much more observance, reveals it's rather more active. One woman extends her arm, for the other to twirl out, heels tapping in rythm all along, before the woman comes back, and the first echoes it in a similar twirling gesture. She comes back from the twirl, dancing in a small circle with the woman, a close series of symmetrical movements. All the while one may realize, tapping out a stiff, tight rythm upon the hard floor of the chamber. Though they move quickly, they dont' move so quickly, as this seems a 'slower' Dance of Seasons, at that, one finds it at first difficult to identify teacher and student, the Viscountess Winter Lomasa, and her own student dancer.

A sudden clambering crecendoes about, disrupting the percussive clicking that come from the hard toes of the dance hall patrons. The sound and its decibal are equivillent to a boy kicking a stone on a tin roof; in the entranceway is Tamnus' steel encased form, given a halo by the high sun. He has his helmet in his hands, and his breath is labored and expedient as if he had been on a long venture of sorts. Perspiration dances along his brow, although far less coordinated than the dances transpiring before him, just above his amber eyes that dart over the mostly unfurnished room. The suit of imperial fullplate gives off an irredescant glimmer beneath the sun until the mammothian infantryman steps inside, closing the door lightly behind him as he takes note of his interuption. "Ahem," he coughs, pausing to resemble a steel statue in perfect stoicity.

''A gruff guard, though lightly armored, is not at all perturbed and rather professional about intercepting Tamnus. He nods to the man respectfully, "Sir, welcome to the Snowflake Center. I'm sorry to say we haven't quite opened our doors, but if you've business here, you may have to wait for the Viscountess to finish her lesson." He says, "Might I know who you are and your business?"''

Winter...is an observant woman, her gaze flickers to the steel encased form, but all class and business, her dance with the female student does not stop. It only continues, as they move through the steps, at one point, back to back, as the dance in a circle, twirling abotu to face, and then pass each other, twirling back, passing on the other side...

Like a bear in an expansive cave is Tamnus' voice as it ushers through his bearded lips to the guard's ears, "Aye, prithee accept my 'pologies for being so abrupt, but you see, some rapscallion gave chase and fled -I believe- into 'ere." The said statue moves again with an articulate gesture towards the rest of the hall. "Haply I'm wrong, an' I 'pologize again, but I'm quite sure I saw him dart in here."

''The guard nods, "I fear you must 'ave lost your rapscallion then. As you can see, the Center is well guarded, and not quite the place for rapscallions to hide. 'less your Rapscalion wears a Corset, tights, heels, and an ample busom." he says, arching a brow softly.''

The dance takes on a steady rythm, taptap-tap-tap-tap, tap-tap-tap, a slow, steady, percussion, until a final harsher tap, and the ladies stand, arms extended and fingers barely touching from one hand, bowed to each other.

Tamnus' small eyes swivel in their socket to his right shoulder, glancing over a platinum pauldron to cast over the dancing pair with a smile. Their fluidity does not go unnoticed. He shifts again, the smile still residing on his beard-cowled lips. "Ho," he chuckles in a baritone laugh. "'Fraid not. But are you *certain* he didn't come runnin' in here?" With his left hand, free of barbute helm, he makes a limp motion towards the door. "Mine own eyes decieve me then, 'cos I saw 'is back vanish as he shut this door." Now his eyes pass over the periphery of the room. "You've been vigilant, eh, comrade?"

''The guard nods politely, "Rather certain, the Viscountess keeps aware of all the goings on here, and I always has someone on guard. It just wouldn't do well to be sheltering criminals for the Center." he says, "So you see, I can't say your Rapscallion was here, though if 'e was, they'd be in your arms already." he says. He nods, "Aye, as has Lady Lomasa's Handmaiden." he says, gesturing to the other woman, who queitly works upon a dress, sitting behind the counter, while still watching the Center.''

Winter smiles, talking to her student, though the words cannot be heard form as far away as the entrance. She seems chatty, energetic, cheerful, nodding quickly to her, before nodding to the student's curtsey and slowly turning towards the entrance.

Wandering aimlessly into the center is one Guthrie Southwood, looking around the area carefully and curiously. He doesn't seem quite full of any sort of purpose, and certainly not dressed for the location. He doesn't wander too far in, merely scoping the area out.

Tamnus grows somewhat uncomfortable, and it isn't his tassets shifting that provides this. His left hand wipes away the sweat from his fore somewhat casually, and he places it to join the other behind his back, both clasping the helmet. "Aye, s'far as it seems, I'm rather daft." He laughs forcefully, trying to seem less restless, but in doing this he appears moreso. "Think we could 'ave a look 'round the premises for him, if it ain't to much trouble?" he quanders hopefully.

''The guard chuckles and shrugs, "I don't be seein' the harm." he says, looking up to the new entrance, "Sir! Welcome to the Snowflake Center, might I be knowin' your business and yer name?" he says.''

Winter appears, soon enough, looking up to the rather heavily armored Tamnus, "One of my girls about some mischief? They haven't left the Center today but for a bite to eat..and in thier tresses and dresses at that...what was it?"

"Oh, name's Guthrie. I'm not here for anythin' special, just didn't know quite what this place was, y'know?" relays the off-duty barkeep, chuckling softly.

Tamnus gives a rigid bow to the restriction of his platemail to the guard. "You've the thanks of Tamnus Bristleblade, comrade," he says before turning to adress the noblewoman. "Hail, ma'lady. Ain't one o' your lasses stirring trouble, 'lest they don scrappy dreg clothes." He approaches her, taking his helmet in one arm and placing it atwixt that and his side. "Nay, I saw a scallywag make a dash into 'ere, methinks. The good man guard ha'n't seen naught, nor has your handmaiden. But mine own eyes saw the feller run in, and I'm going to have a look 'round, provided I've your permission m'lady." Another stiff curtsy is given before he flashes a smile to Guthrie.

''The Guard nods to Guthrie and smiles, "The Snowflake Center for Culture is a Center for Learning and Culture, 'specially the Lady's dance." he says to him.''

Winter smiles softly and nods to Tamnus, "Well of course not, we've our own tailor, I shan't have them wearing all but fine cloths, if they're to be my students, common girls or otherwise." She says, "You might have seen him or what it is dash into an alcove or something outside, and mistook it for another entrance, but I assure you, I always have guards at attention here." he says, offering a soft curtsey to Tamnus in greeting.

Tamnus seems to accept Winter's explanation, as it seemed genuine. "I do trus' a lady like yoreself would not harbor such a gumshoe in a fine place like this," he says with a silver tongue and an equally immaculate etiquette. "Sorry for the intrusion, ma'lady," He says as he turns, tipping his head to the guard he christened as a comrade as he strides to Guthrie. "By 'r lady, Guth, whot are you doing here? Shadowin' me or sommat?" he asks jestingly as he places a hand on his shoulder. "Let us go, 'less'n you want to learn some dance for that lass you've yore eye on." Tamnus gives an ember eyed wink to his friend.

"Culture, eh? Not my sort'a place then, I'm a barkeep over at the Hawk n' Dove in the Market District. Iffin' you're ever findin' yourself down there, stop by. No place better," Guthrie tosses out as a sales pitch, offering the guard a wide grin as he notices Tamnus, waving toward him. "Oh aye, Tammy! What're you doin' all the way up here? Shadowin' /you/, eh? Yer followin' me 'round it more looks." Guthrie laughs aloud as Tamnus mentions the lass. "Amy? Haha! No, Tammy, dancin' ain't what impresses /that/ girl, I can be promisin' you that."

''The Guard nods, "I'll be leavin' you to your business then, be sure not to chase any ruffians in 'ere will you?" he says, grinning softly.''

Winter smiles softly and nods, "Culture indeed, it is the Snowflake Center for Culture. And if you've your eye to impress a lass, dance may very well be the way." she says. She ahs, arching a brow at Guthrie, the somewhat unrefined gent, standing next to Tamnus anyway. She smiles to Tamnus, "No apology necessary, need for law persists in spite of culture and refinement."

Tamnus gives a rebuking look toward Guthrie, his back still to Winter to curtain it from her. The expression entails a volume of lesson: mind yourself in the pressence of a lady. The look soon fades, washed away by a thin-lipped grin. "Aye," he says to the guard and to the Lomasa swiftly. The man's heavy, armored hand gives a short squeeze to Guthrie's shoulder. "Come 'n, let us not bother this fair lady anymore, huh." At that, he begins headed out the door.

"You won't find me chasin' ruffians 'round here, Sir. That's what Tammy's for!" Guthrie tells the guard with another laugh and a bright smile over to his vastly better-armored associate. He seems a bit surprised as he takes notice of the noblewoman, bowing his head faintly. "Evenin', M'Lady," he says in apparent farewell, looking over to Tamnus and giving a nod as he walks to follow him.

Winter cants her head softly and arches a brow, and then nods softly, as he says his 'farewell'. She waves to Tamnus, "I do hope you find what you seek Sir, do good work>" Snowflake Center - Entrance Hall

Hawk's Aerie Crafter Square'

''A cobblestone square adjacent to the main crossroads of the township of Hawk's Aerie, where craftsmen from throughout the realm have come to set up shop in buildings constructed of brown and gray stone dredged from the nearby Fastheld River. The structures are packed rather closely together, with maybe a foot or two between the walls.''

Tamnus clanks as he strides, his helmet once more on his head by the time Guthrie turns around; he passes a jargon-talking auctioneer as he continues on by, heand drifting to the cowl top of his helmet to dip it in respect to various guards about. He doesn't turn his head at this point; "Guthrie, sirrah, there is a difference between nobleblood and commonblood, as contrasting as night and day or man and woman. Some things are...taboo in the presence of noblemen -or, even moreso: noblewomen."

"Well, she wasn't seemin' all too offended," Guthrie answers with a shrug of his shoulders, looking over to Tamnus as he walks beside him. "Dealt with plenty a' nobles in my time, Tammy. Unless you're dealin' with a royal or somebody ownin' your lands or payin' your way, don't need anythin' more than a 'lil respect. 'Ell, they're expectin' that sort o' gruff from us. When we aren't 'round, they talk down about them 'crude' commoners and their 'low' ways. Ain't doin' nothin' by worshippin' every one y'walk past."

Tamnus nods somberly, his gaze not drifting to his side, whereupon lies Guthrie. "Aye," he says in that accent-laden baritone voice that becomes all too tranquil, almost sublime after familiarity is made. "Then why not show 'em sommat? Noblebloods know well 'ow to mask their disgust sometimes, Guth. Winter there di'n't seem too upset 'cos she isn't that sharp of a noblewoman. There's some others, though," he muses with a dancing forefinger, "that'll tan your hide for talking about a lady like you did back there, common or not."

Tamnus Bristleblade is standing in full imperial platemail, its surface asunder with the gleam of the sun above. He is astride a smaller, unarmored man who smells powerfully of ale if you happen to be downwind of him. He appears to be talking about courtesy if one wanders into listening range; it seems they are leaving from Winter Lomassa's dancing school.

"Usually I'm better at scopin' out the nobles with the proverbial stick shoved up their arses, Tammy. She seemed fine 'nough. Was jus' a 'lil joke! Needed some brightenin' among all that...snootery, y'know?" answers Guthrie to Tamnus in his usual jesting tone. He's also walking near Tamnus, who may or may not be smelling that strongly of ale due to his proximity to Guthrie, who's scent is really only an occupational hazard.

Tamnus nods acceptingly to his smaller friend, and they continue forwards with little conversation. It is until Tamnus notices Dianna arrive from the southern district that his stoney countenance is persued by a cracking grin. "Lady Dianna!" he proclaims loudly, his hands raised out to his sides, parralel to the ground. "By they light, it seems y'all are follerin' me!"

While wandering alone may not be the wisest thing to do in the evening, Dianna Lomasa does it with little problem or concern, making her way through to the Crafter's Square, fingers laced together in front of her. Her bright blue eyes look from left to right, then she hesitantly comes to a halt, wavering as she nibbles on her lower lip. After a moment her eyes look up, towards Tamnus, and a smile appears. "It would seem, Guardian, that you shadow my step, and are always present if I am in need of an escort," she retorts teasingly.

"Evenin', M'L," Guthrie stops himself with a bit of a grumble, before speaking up again, " --- Dianna. What brings you 'round to the Aerie? My shift don't start 'till late, so I was jus' wanderin' 'round and walked into ol' Tammy 'ere."

Tamnus' chortle rumbles from the bellows deep within his steel encased chest. "I be sahdowin' you?" he asks in a rather loud, mock angry tone. "Ho hurr!" His arms slap his side and he continues abreast Guthrie towards Dianna. "If'n you do need an escort, y'gots two able-bodied 'n' willing men here for the job." Another jesting look is given to Guthrie, before he quips, "Well, at least you got one," with a snicker and an expecting flinch for an ensuing cuff from Guthrie.

"As lovely as that sounds, I am only in need of a point in the correct direction," Dianna says, laughing a little. "Would you be so kind as to tell me which direction I might find Winter Lomasa's establishment?" she inquires.

"I could stand my own in a fight if I gotta," grumbles Guthrie, lacking a witty sarcastic remark at the moment, it seems. "Winter Lomasa, eh?" asks the Barkeep, jerking his thumb over to the Snowflake Center. "Back there, I'd be supposin'. Tammy and I jus' stopped in, somethin' about him losin' a ruffian or somethin'. Gettin' rusty in 'is ol' age."

"As a matter of fact, m'lady," says Tamnus pridefully, "we just left from there. 'Fraid we didn't take any dancing lessons, although Guthrie 'ere found it quite tempting, so's I heard." The armored, statue of a man turns with an extended forefinger and arm. He turns sharply like a dog angry at a fly towards Guthrie -hey, with proportions to match the analogy! "Ol' age? 'Twas last eve you told me I was but four years your senior, nay?" A playful shove undermines any swift retort for Guthrie, a stiff prod sent en route for his left shoulder.

"Thank you, then," Dianna says, dipping her head. "I will leave you two to argue as you will then," she adds, stepping around both men to head for the indicated entrance.

"Six years!" bellows Guthrie in response to Tamnus, taking the prod with a faint grunt but otherwise not reacting to it. "Evenin', Dianna. Y'be sure to be tellin' me if there's anythin' you're needin' done that you ain't be havin' the time to handle y'self!" Guthrie calls to Dianna as she departs, looking over to Tamnus. "Odd one, that. Nicest lady yer knowin' one moment then all stormy an' disinterested the next. Better'n most, tho'. Lucky I can work under'er."

Tamnus seems full of chuckles this afternoon, subduing the current tirade on wanton laughter to say his farewells to Dianna. His eyes return to Guthrie for a minute, deaf to his words as he surmises the dimunitive man. At least, compared to him. "...Fate must puppet us purposefully," he says, contemplatively. "Mayhap we were s'posed to meet eachother this afty, or the other eve for that matter." Gooseflesh creeps up his body, sending chills in the opposite direction down his spine. "Methinks something may be amiss. I don't much like being a pawn to destiny; nay, I like to sow the seeds of mine own future."

"Y'know what I think, Tammy?" queries the barkeep, although it seems to be a rhetorical question since his opinion will inevitably be known. "I think...that you think too much. 'Specially when you go tossin' 'round words like destiny n' fate n' all that. Try doin' it less. Not s'much of a headache."

The two, by now, have ventured into the crossroads in their walk. Tamnus turns over his shoulder with a hollow smile. "I don't agree, Guth. How can you abide another hand controlling your life like a bard's marionette? 'Tis not natural," he says as he shakes his head, gaze lofting from the off-duty barkeep to his new surroundings.

Hawk's Aerie 


 * ''The sprawling township of Hawk's Aerie is one of the plushest, wealthiest and most politically important settlements in the realm of Fastheld, poised as it is at the fork of River Road and the Imperial Thoroughfare, with control over the economically vital Fastheld Wharfs and the strategically critical access point of the bridge that spans the Fastheld River to Aegis Road.


 * Founded five centuries ago by Edran Nillu, the bustling riverport town has been a primary source of that noble house's cache with the throne on Caryas Hill and the guilds of the Market District, and has enabled the Nillus to establish themselves as an economic powerhouse. The streets are kept clean of garbage and filthy peasants as much as possible. The elegant stone and wood buildings are kept in fine repair. It is rumored that the ravens of Hawk's Aerie get their talons polished, morning and night.

"'Til I'm seein' it, it ain't gonna be there. Light wills to happen what will, so let it be. If what I jus' said was a little confusin', now you know how you're talkin', so leave it at that," answers Guthrie with a slight grin as he walks along, looking about. "Jus' came 'ere to wander, now I've got nothin' to do."

The two stroll aimlessly abreast for some time, their lips silent and the air muted except from the ruckus that is created by Tamnus' heavy platemail. After a few minutes pass, Tamnus turns once more to Guthrie, his face paled and no grin present. "Before Sabon was...killed," he says with a gulp atwixt a pause, "he told me that the light can entertain the shadow." He stops, kicking a pebble before he does so, and watching it boune on before him before being swept up in the undercarriage of a wagon. "Now isn't that curious, Guthrie? The light, blessed be, holding refuge for that forsaken shadow."

"I jus' don' think much 'bout it," Guthrie answers sort of shortly, not very interested in this line og conversation as he looks idly about the Aerie. "Mayhap I should be gettin' back to the tavern. Probably startin' to get a 'lil busy."

Almost remorsefully Tamnus nods. "Aye, aye, s'pose 'twould be best..." He pauses, starting to walk again with his affiliate, his face blank like a placid pool without ebb. "Haply I'll speak to the Shrine of True Light on the matter; I've shift in the crossroads in several 'oors." He nods to Guthrie, as if in departure. "I'm goin' to get a few in me, comrade, 'fore I go to duty." He veers towards the tavern and gives a dismissing wave to the bartender left behind. "Fare well, friend."

"Be seein' you later," Guthrie responds to Tamnus, looking tired as he gives a wave and walks to flag down a carriage.

Guthrie hires a passing carriage and it pulls up so they can board.

''Return to Season 4 (2006)