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aquadestinyswriting · 1 year ago
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A Circle None Can Break- Part Eleven
Summary: Selene has been called to the Archlector's personal apartment to meet with King Storri, the Archlector and Librarian Haneskeeper to discuss what aid, if any, Fangthane might be willing to give the beleaguered Grand Magus.
Words: 2,422
Warnings: None. Just some very frayed tempers on both sides.
Notes: This is the bit I've been most looking forward to getting to. I must admit, I didn't expect this to go in the direction it did, but I think it works out way better than the first draft now.
tags: @druidx, @strosmkai-rum, @homesteadchronicles, @warriorbookworm, @odysseywritings, @sparrow-orion-writes, @blind-the-winds, @writeblrsupport, @writeblrcafe
Selene whooshed out a sigh as she made her way through the Cathedral to the Archlector's personal apartment. It had finally been decided that the Cathedral was the most neutral place for this smaller and more intimate meeting, and the Archlector's apartment was the most comfortable place for the dignitaries that would be attending. The wizard was grateful that His Holiness had insisted on the location, her most recent experience of the palace had been less than pleasant, but she was still not looking forward to this.
The Moradhir paladin that was accompanying Selene through the Cathedral looked back at the human wizard and sent her an encouraging smile,
"It's not often that anyone gets to see His Holiness' personal apartment. He must like you if he's invited you there." He said. Selene flicked her eyes to the floor briefly and shook her head,
"While I am incredibly grateful to hear such, I am uncertain as to why." She admitted, returning her gaze to the armoured dwarf walking in front of her, "As I understand it, most of your people are less than happy with those of us who chose to stay in Toreguarde following Drakemar's involvement in its reconstruction." The paladin shrugged, his pauldrons clanking at the motion,
"His Holiness was chosen as Archlector fer a reason, my lady." He pointed out, "Those of us who serve Moradin, or any of the other Gods worshipped in the mount, trust his judgement." 
Selene's heart lifted at the statement. While she had never met the man before, he had clearly believed her words to be important enough to cow the rest of the mountain into listening to her. Certainly, it seemed that the Archlector's words had been enough to convince king Storri to allow her to stay. Feeling better, Selene allowed herself a small smile. Maybe there was a chance for her to swiftly solve the problem of the Seal after all.
"Right, here we are." The paladin announced, "I'll be right outside just in case. There shouldn't be any more nasty surprises like there were with the Council." He added, stepping to one side after rapping out a code on the elaborately carved door. Selene inclined her head,
"Thank you, Ser Stonebreaker." She said, "Hopefully this will not take long, and I can be out of your collective hair shortly. I don't want to be responsible for bringing any more trouble, or grief, to your people." Stonebreaker shook his head,
"We'd be dealing with it whether you were visiting or no." He pointed out, "Good luck." He added as an attendant opened the door. Selene nodded to the paladin once more before following the beardling inside.
King Storri, the Archlector and Haneskeeper were already inside, all three sat on comfortable chairs around a large marble table. Another beardling –with wavy blonde hair and dressed in a smart, richly embroidered tunic – sat in a wingback chair next to a generously sized bookcase, his nose currently buried in a book. So His Majesty had brought Prince Garin with him, this was, hopefully, a good sign. The room was, helpfully, lit by a myriad of glowstones artfully, and unobtrusively, placed around the room, allowing Selene to see the various mosaics laid into the floor and the tapestries adorning the walls. Most were, understandably, related to Moradin, though a few seemed to depict old clan crests. Presumably the clans of Archlectors in centuries and ages past.
The attendant coughed politely,
"Presenting Grand Magus Frigidwake, as requested, Yer Holiness." She said, "Was there anything else you or your guests needed?" She asked, allowing Selene to step into the room. The Archlector's cragged face split into a gracious smile,
"Some more refreshments would be appreciated, if ye don't mind fetching them Dora." He requested, "We may be here for a while." Dora curtsied and quickly scurried off. Storri scoffed as Selene came to the table and took the seat next to Haneskeeper,
"I rather hope it doesn't." He said shortly, "I mean no disparagement on yer hospitality, Yer Grace, but I do have other matters to attend to." Selene's gaze flicked from king to Archlector, suddenly reminded that king Storri was still very young by the standards of dwarves. Archlector Vanskleig merely shrugged, shifting into a more comfortable position,
"I do understand, Your Majesty, however, this is a matter that  I believe, requires all the time we can give it." He said pleasantly. The elderly dwarf turned his attention to Selene, grey eyes meeting green. Selene felt a shiver run down her spine. While the Archlector's gaze was pleasant, almost grandfatherly, she could sense the centuries of wisdom and power the ancient dwarf held despite his frail frame. It reminded her very much of Yastromo.
"I have asked High Librarian Haneskeeper to see what information he could find regarding God Clay and its potential whereabouts with all the archives we hold here in Fangthane." The Archlector said, gesturing to the old, but not yet ancient, dwarf. Haneskeeper cleared his throat,
"Aye, I scoured every last shelf of the Library and the Cathedral's archives for ye." He said. Selene smiled at him,
"Thank you for being so thorough. Any information, no matter how scant, will be invaluable." Haneskeeper shifted uncomfortably,
"Aye, well, unfortunately, I regret to inform you that Fangthane doesn't hold any God Clay that might yet remain on the Material Plane." He said. Selene's smile fell a bit, but she shook her head,
"I suppose it would have been far too convenient if it were." She sighed, "Did your research turn up any possible locations?" She asked. The silence that met it was almost deafening in itself. The hopeful expression on Selene's face dropped entirely as an icy stillness descended on the room. Haneskeeper cleared his throat,
"It did." he confirmed slowly, his eyes flicking to king Storri, whose expression remained neutral, but his body language belied the silent rage building within him. Selene looked between the two men, briefly glancing over to note that prince Garin was sitting utterly still. She slowly leaned forward,
"And..?" She asked, her stomach dropping as the bubble of hope she'd started to feel earlier burst. Haneskeeper whooshed out a sigh,
"The God Clay's last known location was within the God Vault of the Redhammer Clan." He replied, "As their lineage was known to have been Blessed with the ability to Shape the stuff, it makes sense that this would be where the God Clay is currently located." He explained. Selene frowned,
"That makes sense, what little information I was able to glean from my own research made mention of this Blessing." She admitted. Her eyes narrowed, "So do you mind telling me why His Majesty looks like he's about to throttle me?" She asked lightly, looking over to Storri, who was now clearly biting back a tirade of some sort. Haneskeeper sent the younger dwarf a short glare before returning his attention to Selene, a haggard expression on his face,
"Putting aside some ancient dwarven Grudges, the ancestral home of the Redhammer clan used to be known as Kar'ak Ungor and was located in a volcano near the northwestern coast of Allansia, just off the Bay of Corpses in the area now known as the Dragon Reaches." He explained. Selene's annoyed expression settled into a frown as she mentally mapped out the area. Her heart froze as she finally realised what the old librarian was telling her,
"Wyrmholme." She murmured, horrified. The moment she had uttered the word, the damn holding Storri back finally broke,
"Aye. That ancient artefact that's sacred to our people is in the claws of the dragon ye sold yer bloody city to!" He snapped, "Tell me, Grand Magus, why is that knowledge suddenly so damn problematic?" He asked. Selene blinked herself back into the room and frowned at the enraged dwarven king. She shook her head,
"It's a problem because I know that, while House Drakemar provided the capital that allowed us to rebuild Toreguarde into what it is today, I don't believe that it has the best interests of the people at heart." She replied, "I am fully aware, too, of the general hostility that the relationship with Drakemar has caused between us." She added. Storri leapt to his feet, slamming his hands on the table and knocking his seat over,
"Then why ignore the advice given ye when that damned Emissary turned up?” he asked, with an angry growl, “We didna send ye 30,000 souls to fight off the damn demons you let into the world just so ye could turn around and work with that damned beast!” he shouted. Selene immediately sat upright, her knuckles white as she tried to reign in her own, dangerously flaring, temper. She sucked in a breath before replying in as even a tone as she could manage,
“First thing, Your Majesty, the decision to send so many people to help fight off the Demonic Horde was not ours to make. The blame for such lies squarely on the shoulders of King Nargond, gods rest his soul.” She stated, earning her a nasty glare from the young king.
“As for the matter of accepting the aid offered by the Emissary; what else would you have had us do? We had barely managed to build the bare bones of the old town, never mind enough houses for everyone that had been displaced by the time any money we had had run out. Besides, my own objections about Drakemar's continued involvement were thoroughly overruled by the time the Edict came into effect." Storri scoffed,
“Then why stay in the Dragon’s employ, love?” he snapped, “Ye had ample opportunity to leave alongside plenty others!” The shadows cast by the glowstones lengthened as Selene flushed, scowled at the king and stood, towering over the dwarves sitting around the table,
“Had I left, Your Majesty, the Sealed Hellmouth that lies beneath my tower would have been breached long before now and your mountain overrun by demons." She growled, "You would ask me to place the lives of over a hundred thousand souls spread over the entirety of the Pagan Plains at risk? You would ask me to abandon the people I was tasked to protect by Yastromo himself, all so you can feel all better about even deigning to talk to me?!" 
Haneskeeper yelped as a gust of icy wind blew around the room, knocking over some of the small knick knacks scattered around the room. Prince Garin huddled into his chair as much as he could, protectively holding the book he'd been reading to his chest. Archlector Vandkleig merely raised an eyebrow and leaned forward, unruffled by the emotionally charged magic that was building within his personal chambers. The elderly dwarf muttered a prayer and Dispelled it,
"I think we're rather letting our tempers get away from us." He said mildly, "Let us return to the matter at hand, shall we?" He suggested. He looked over to Selene, who bowed her head, chastened,
"Yes, Your Holiness, I apologise." She murmured, sitting down once more. Storri snorted, but also sat once more. Haneskeeper cautiously looked between his king and the Grand Magus,
"Getting back to our discussion, I'm sorry that we can't be much help to you with regards to the God Clay, hen." He said, "That's something ye'll need to take up with yer Emissary." Selene shook her head,
"I suppose I have no other choice." She sighed, "However, from my understanding, that only solves half my problem." She said, turning her attention back to the Archlector, ignoring Storri entirely as he made a grumble of protest. The Archlector stroked his beard,
"Ah, you did say your research mentioned Shapers. I can only surmise that you've worked out that you require one to use the God Clay." He said. Selene nodded,
"Yes, Your Holiness. I had kept the question of enquiring about this after learning what I could about the God Clay first. I really do not wish to ask any more of you-" 
"Then don't." Storri snapped suddenly, "We can't help you." Selene frowned, turning to face the still outraged king. Was he not aware of Meredith's talents? She glanced to the Archlector, who was gazing at his king with an exasperated expression.
"While I understand your reticence Your Majesty-" she began, only to be cut off once more,
"I just said we can't help ye! What are ye not understanding?" Selene inhaled deeply. While she did not personally pay direct homage to any god in particular, she found herself asking for the patience to deal with the frustrating dwarf in front of her from any that happened to be listening in. So long as it wasn't Him.
"Your Majesty, what I do understand is why you are reluctant to allow me to request the help of one of your youngest citizens. Unfortunately, given the nature of the situation, I really do not have any other recourse." She pleaded. All three dwarves stared at the wizard. Haneskeeper frowned,
"Now how did ye-?" He started as Selene quickly held up her hands as Storri's expression grew thunderous,
"I've been staying at the Hammer and Anvil. I was speaking with Gruk about the situation and he told me about his youngest daughter." She explained, as quickly as she could manage. "I don't want to drag anyone else into this but-" 
"No."
Selene stared at Storri, desperation writ plain over her face,
"Your Majesty. Please-" she began. Storri's nostrils flared as he lifted his chin,
"We've given ye what ye came here for." The king stated evenly, his voice colder than the winter winds that lashed against the mountain, "I will not permit ye to take anyone back to that godsforsaken place, least of all a woman as young and impressionable as Miss Ironforge." He looked to Haneskeeper, then bowed deeply to the Archlector as he rose once more,
"Since the matter's been settled, I'll see myself out. Grand Magus, I'll give ye one more day to pack yer things then I want you out of this mountain never to darken its doors again. Am I clear?" He didn't bother waiting for an answer, simply gesturing for Garin to follow him out as he walked away. Selene could only stare, dumbfounded as the king of Fangthane left the room, almost barging into the Archlector's attendant, who had just returned with a large trolley filled with food and beverages. Garin, bowed and muttered an apology before following his father out of the door.
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druidx · 7 months ago
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Storri Nargondsson, Clan Goldseeker, King of Fangthane
His Majesty the Gilded, King Storri Nargondsson, Lord-High Commander of Fangthane, Archduke of Stonebridge, Denheb Iben of Moradin, Diamond of Throff, and Low King of Dwarves in all His Realms and Territories is, by his position, a very serious man.
As is expected of his station he's fluent in the major languages of the continent, with middling fluency in a few others. He is excellent at bookkeeping and logistics, with some success in strategising and a moderate understanding of higher theological philosophy and ritual.
Storri came to his position unfortunately very young, at an equivalent maturity of about 20 years to a human, when his father, Nargond, perished in the Demon Wars of Allansia.
As such, not only was his coronation rushed through, but so was his previously arranged marriage to Kalasia Theoardottir, clan Bloodvein. A few years later the pair became parents to twins, Garni and Garin. Alas, Kalasia fought the ultimate battle expected of a shield maiden, and perished in childbirth.
Now a single father in addition to ruling alone, Storri became more dour than ever, plagued with the stress of his position which his extended family and the royal court sought to mitigate, with limited success.
Matters came to a head during the rebuilding of Toreguard, a former ally, when, in a rare display, Storri's temper flared at a major disagreement. The King marched home, sealing the great gates of the mountain behind him, and never to be opened again.
It wasn't until a decade later that a non-Fangthanian citizen was "permitted" to enter, one Alexis Dalliance¹, who was thence employed by the Crown to retrieve the greatest hero of the century, Ivan 'the Hammer' Jägerson, from the outer planes. Once Jägerson returned, rumors around that time sprang up that the King was having some kind of affair with Dalliance²; the change in Storri's attitude shifted considerably - first for the better and then for the worst. Things became more dire when Storri was stuck down and entered some kind of magical coma³, during which Princess Garni became Queen. Once Storri regained consciousness, she stepped down to allow her father to complete his rule.
Thereafter, Storri was plagued by nightmares of his time in the coma, making the whole mountain tense as his normally stoic nature waxed and waned on a coin flip. This was made worse with new rumours of a Church schism and the scene caused by one Meredith Gruksdottir, clan Ironforge...
(I'm going to stop here because I'm skewing so off-topic, and I don't really think I need to cover the events of the Destiny's New Servant's Campaign from his POV. Also, Aquadestiny might be the better one to write that...)
---
And, because of course I had to, here he is per the modern AU:
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(I wanted to give him some kind of royal sash, but I couldn't find anything that looked appropriate, so this will have to do. Modern AU Storri is has had a significantly better time than Vanilla Setting Storri, hence the fact he can smile easier.)
----
¹ This is basically the plot of Her Lonely Shadow.
² They were not, but they could've if Alexis hadn't 1. had a crisis of conscience, and 2. been going to fulfill her god's orders.
³ He died, his soul was dragged to the Pit, and Alexis used a Wish spell to send him back and make him forget their feelings for each other.
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aquadestinyswriting · 1 year ago
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A Circle None Can Break: Part Thirteen
Summary: His Majesty is brought into the Royal Vaults to see the message left for him there. He sends his Kingsguard to find the thief and vandal responsible, only to have a heart to heart with the Archlector
Words: 2,332
Warnings: None that I can tell. Let me know if I'm wrong
Notes: Second to last chapter folks! This has been a journey and a bit. The message being referred to can be found at the end of the Flash Fiction entry A Mother's Wrath
tags: @druidx, @strosmkai-rum, @homesteadchronicles, @warriorbookworm, @odysseywritings, @sparrow-orion-writes, @blind-the-winds, @writeblrsupport, @writeblrcafe
King Storri glared at the moulded runes on the wall of the Royal Vault. He sniffed and turned to the captain of his Kingsguard,
“Do we have any idea how the culprit even got into the vault?” he asked lightly. Captain Bloodvein stroked his beard thoughtfully, mulling the question over,
“Not yet, Your Majesty. All we know so far is that the doors weren’t forced open and none of the guards, or any of the rest of the staff, have seen anyone skulking around the palace.” he replied. The taller dwarf glanced at the runes on the wall. They had been too perfectly moulded onto the surface to have been the work of some random thief and vandal. He cleared his throat as his king fumed,
“Your Majesty, perhaps we need to consider the possibility that this was not the work of a mortal being,” he ventured warily, “The Vault has been thoroughly protected from all manner of teleportation magic and the runes are confirmed to be physically present and, by all accounts, appear to be part of the wall. The language used is also indicative of-” he was cut off as Storri raised a hand,
“I will confer with the Church with regards to this message, Captain. However, if the disappearance of a potentially sacred or heretical artefact was the work of the gods, then how do you explain that?” he asked, pointing to a scuff mark on the floor next to the shelf and a faint footprint next to it. Captain Bloodvein heaved a sigh and nodded,
“I’ll send out a search party for the individual responsible at once, sire.” he said, turning to the small troupe of guards he had brought with him, “Broadaxe, Silverhand with me.” he called, starting to lead the two other dwarves out of the Vault, only to be stopped by the appearance of a tall, thin figure in the doorway. The Kingsguard stumbled to a halt and bowed deeply as the Archlector quietly sauntered into the cavern. He nodded to the Kingsguard and smiled,
“Please, don’t stop your search on my account.” he said mildly, stepping aside to allow the Kingsguard to leave. Captain Bloodvein bowed once more, frowning in consternation, but quickly recalled himself and left.
Storri turned stiffly and inclined his head at the sound of the Archlector’s voice behind him,
“Archlector, to what do we owe the pleasure?” he asked. Archlector Vanskleig said nothing as he glided across the cavern, peering at the runes moulded onto the wall his king was standing next to. The elderly dwarf cocked his head,
“It’s curious, don’t you think? That we should be so troubled by earthquakes, and that some random miscreant manages to gain entry into the Royal Vault, of all places, to steal a random sacred item mere hours after you dismissed Lady Frigidwake from the mountain?”
Storri tensed. The Archlector’s voice was soft, gentle even. However, even Storri could not miss the undercurrent in the elderly dwarf’s words. The king turned back to the wall, shaking his head,
“What should I have done instead, Archlector? Sent one of our own out on what amounts to a suicide mission when we are only barely recovering from a disaster that Lady Frigidwake, and her companions, were responsible for?” Vanskleig sighed, leaned on his staff and laid a hand on the young king’s shoulder,
“I just don’t want to see ma people suffer any more.” he murmured. He huffed a sigh and shook his head, “However, I will concede to yer wisdom on this matter. The tablet still needs to be returned, however.” Vanskleig squeezed the younger dwarf’s shoulder,
“I understand your reluctance to get involved, Your Majesty, I do.” he said quietly, “However, inaction on our part will have graver consequences than can possibly be imagined.” He gestured to the runes, “Not a one of us, not even I, can deny the Call of Kherillim or even Dànadas.” he added. Storri hung his head,
“Aye, that it does. So long as yer Kingsguard don’t do anything rash, then there won’t be any further issues.” 
Edwin and Selene raced through the streets of Fangthane, Gruk in tow, while Snorri kept the patrons of his bar in their seats. 
“What in all the Hells is the lassie doin’?!” Gruk despaired as he skidded around the corner and onto the street leading out to the main entrance to Fangthane. Edwin shook his head,
“It’s not Meredith, Gruk. Throff has had enough and is making a Statement. I just hope we find your daughter before the Kingsguard do.” he muttered. Selene said nothing, guilt squeezing at her heart. While she was more than aware that getting Gruk’s daughter involved in her city’s problems was the Will of the Gods, that didn’t stop her from wishing that there was another way to solve the problem.
~Too bad, there isn’t.~ came Chrackle’s voice in her head, ~Anyway, you’re a bit late. The girl’s surrounded by Kingsguard. Giving you a heads up that she’s very upset so you might want to duck and cover.~ he said. Selene grimaced, realising only now that she could feel the pull of magic towards the front door. She grabbed Edwin and Gruk and pulled them behind a pillar just as a loud Crack! Echoed around the hall. Loud shouts of fear and partial outrage quickly followed suit, along with the muffled voice of a young, female dwarf yelling something. Selene couldn’t make out what the young cleric was saying over the ringing in her ears. She could barely hear Edwin’s swearing. She glanced over to Gruk, who had gone white under his beard. The smith looked up at the human wizard and gestured in the direction of the front door with a determined grimace. Selene shook her head, but Gruk could not be swayed and he snorted, got up and marched out from behind the pillar to confront whoever got in his way first. Selene swept her gaze over to Edwin, who shrugged and got up to follow the dwarven man. The ringing in her ears abated slightly as Selene rounded the pillar, only to find Captain Bloodvein standing next to a wary looking young dwarven girl wearing clerical vestments and clutching a stone tablet in her arms. The Captain of the Kingsguard was waving for the other dwarves with him to stand down as he approached Meredith, glancing up at the doors at the girl’s back. Selene followed his gaze, jaw dropping open at the sight of the huge crack  spread across the massive, granite slabs that made up the front door. Selene quickly recalled herself and brought her gaze back to the two dwarves at the foot of the doors.
Captain Bloodvein held up his hands in the most placating manner he could,
“Alright hen, point made. I’m just here to get that tablet and take it back where it belongs.” he said, keeping his voice level. The young woman glared at him, tears brimming in her eyes,
“And I just telt ye that I couldn’t.” she snapped. Captain Bloodvein heaved a sigh,
“I can’t let ye keep it.” he said patiently, “If ye’re worried that ye’re in major trouble, don’t be. I saw the message yer Mistress left fer us. I’m no’ daft enough to get in Her way.” Meredith frowned, concerned,
“Ye swear I’m not in trouble fer this?” she asked. Captain Bloodvein clasped his hand to his chest and bowed his head,
“On my Oath and Honour as Kingsguard, ye have my word.” he said. Meredith’s frown lifted into a look of shocked surprise for a moment, before she grimaced, nodded to herself and held the tablet out,
“I’m not even sure why She wanted me to take this anyway.” she muttered. Bloodvein smiled as he took the tablet from the girl’s hands,
“I’ve got a vague idea as to why, but let’s wait to see what happens next, eh?” He turned around and nodded to the half-incensed, half- worried Gruk, who had stopped in his tracks halfway up the entrance hall, “My apologies, Mr Ironforge, I’m gonna have to borrow yer daughter fer a bit longer. I rather think there are some folk that want to have a chat with her first.” he said, glancing over to Selene, who bowed her head in embarrassment. Gruk snorted, crossed his arms over his chest and nodded,
“Of course, Captain, I’ll no’ get in the way of that.” he agreed. He glanced over to his daughter, his expression softening slightly on seeing the scared and anxious look she was giving him,
“We’ll have a chat with yer mum when ye get home.” he said, “We’ll sort something out. In the meantime, mind yer manners.” he told her. Meredith slowly nodded, a small smile finally gracing her features. Edwin sighed and ran a hand through his hair,
“I suppose you’ll be needing someone to get word back to Snorri and his pub about what’s going on?” he asked, “I dread to think what kinds of rumours are making their way around the place by now.” Gruk slapped the Abouna on the arm,
“Dinna panic, I’m comin’ with ye, ye daft blithy.” he sighed, “It’s not like I want any of those rumours doing the rounds, and I know what’s being said in that bloody taproom.” the smith looked over to Selene,
“You make sure to take care of ma wee girl, aye?” he said, voice stern once more. Selene chuckled and nodded,
“Of course. I’ll, hopefully, see you later. Provided His Majesty doesn’t throw another hissy fit and throw me out immediately.” 
“Be an idiot if he did.” Chrackle squawked, fluttering onto Selene’s shoulder, “Already need to repair door. Will need replace if he that stupid.” Selene glanced to the crack in the door again,
“Quite.” she murmured. She waved Gruk and Edwin off and turned to Captain Bloodvein, who had finally managed to coax Meredith down the stairs. The kingsguard quickly created a square around their Captain and his two guests and quickly marched back towards the Palace, making every attempt to keep ahead of the slowly gathering crowd that was congregating near the front doors.
Firetome seethed as he read through the latest report that was hurriedly placed onto his desk. He, and his his master, had both been most pleased when word had reached them of the theft from the Royal Vault. The High Inquisitor had been hopeful that, once the girl had been arrested, he’d be brought in to question her. This latest report, however… He threw the parchment onto the fire with a frustrated grunt. Now that the Archlector had become involved, there was little to no chance of stopping Moradin’s little pet from getting to Toreguarde. He didn’t bother looking up at the knock on his door.
“Yer Eminence, ye have a visitor.” Vera called from the door. Firetome schooled his expression into one of weariness,
“May I ask who it is?” he asked with a resigned sigh. Vera stepped to one side as another, feminine figure appeared in the doorway,
“Thank you for bringing me here dear.” came a familiar, lilting voice, “I believe I can take it from here.” Firetome nodded at the dubious expression on Vera’s face and smiled as Lady Copperheart walked into the office,
“Lady Copperheart, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?” he asked, smiling broadly at her. Vera sighed, shrugged and left, closing the door behind her. Ionah waited until she was sure the trainee Inquisitor was gone before she replied, sitting down smoothly in the chair opposite Firetome. She smoothed out her dress,
“It’s recently come to my attention that His Majesty has agreed to have one last meeting with Lady Frigidwake, despite insisting that she leave the mountain earlier today.” she sniffed, “As I understand it, there were some…ecumenical developments that led to his change of heart.” She glanced up at Firetome, “You happen to know anything about that?” she asked sweetly. Firetome huffed a sigh,
“Aye, disappointingly. Apparently Throff Herself saw fit to get involved.” he replied, “T’would seem that our attempts to prevent help from reaching Toreguarde have been thwarted for the time being.” he grumbled. Ionah shook her head,
“Disappointing.” she tutted, “However, we are not entirely out of options.” the noblewoman took out a compact mirror and checked her reflection, “The girl is young and inexperienced and there are rumours afoot about other forces encroaching on Toreguarde, which I’m sure will be more than enough to take care of her.”  she added. Firetome snorted,
“Given that she seems to be a favourite of Moradin and Kherillim both, I doubt anything else that wants to throw itself at her will be enough.” he muttered, “I’m of a mind to ask Grimbeard to keep an eye on her. See if he can’t cause her some trouble while she’s there.” 
Ionah smiled,
“You speak to dear Grimbeard, and I’ll see what my own connections in the city can do. A word or two in the right ears should be enough to keep her too busy to deal with what she’s there to do.” she said, leaning back in her seat. Firetome grinned at her,
“Well then, my lady, I think we both have rather a lot of work to do. I’ll make sure to tell my Inquisitors to allow you entry whensoever you need to speak to me again.” he added, getting up from his chair and offering his arm. Ionah beamed at him, took the proffered arm and allowed herself to be escorted back to the door,
“Thank you, High Inquisitor. Do endeavour to keep in touch, won’t you?” she simpered. Firetome kissed her hand as he opened the door,
“Of course, my lady. Until next time.” he said. The High Inquisitor watched the noblewoman go, feeling a little better about the situation and returning to his desk to get on with the mountain of paperwork that was waiting for him.
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aquadestinyswriting · 1 year ago
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A Circle None Can Break- Part Fourteen
Summary: Selene is escorted back to Archlector Vanskleig's personal apartment to have one last meeting with the Low King of Fangthane. In the meantime, Firetome is making plans of his own.
Words: 2,138
Warnings: None that I can tell. Let me know if I'm wrong
Notes: Ok, so the finale is going to have to be split into two parts itself because it'll be about 5k words long otherwise. However I do like where this one went.
tags: @druidx, @sparrow-orion-writes , @homesteadchronicles, @warriorbookworm, @mariahwritesstuff, @writeblrsupport, @ashirisu, @thesorcerersapprentice, @blind-the-winds, @philosophika, @the-down-upside-finch
It did not take long for Captain Bloodvein to escort his charges back to the Cathedral, only to be met by a small contingent of Hammers, led by Captain Gravelheart. The two saluted one another, with Captain Bloodvein sending his peer a look of confusion. Captain Gravelheart smiled broadly as she gestured to Meredith,
“Apologies Captain Bloodvein, but I’ve been asked by His Holiness to escort wee Gruksdottir to a meeting with him and High Priest Ragnarsson. I was also told to inform ye that His Majesty is awaiting the Grand Magus in His Holiness’ apartment.” Captain Bloodvein nodded, tucking his helmet under his arm as he turned to Meredith,
“On ye go then, hen.” he sighed, “It’s probably fer the best that Ragnarsson tells ye what’s what anyway.” Meredith bowed deeply to him before stepping forward to stand beside the ochre-haired woman, looking far more comfortable in the intimidating woman’s presence,
“Thank you for escorting me this far, Captain Bloodvein, and for your help earlier.” she said. Captain Bloodvein shook his head,
“It’s fine, hen. I’m just glad we could get it sorted out.��� he replied smoothly.
Meredith turned to Selene and bowed again,
“Thank you for looking after my faither. Hopefully, I’ll have a chance to see ye again when I arrive in Toreguarde.” 
Selene nodded, smiling broadly,
“I certainly hope so, though it may not be immediately. I’ll have a lot of work to catch up on once I get back.” she replied, “I’ll try to arrange a meeting as soon as I get word of your arrival, provided His Majesty agrees to this, of course.” she added with a wink. Meredith bit back a chuckle and nodded, bowing again before following Captain Gravelheart around a corner. Captain Bloodvein shook his head then looked to the Grand Magus,
“If ye’re ready then, Lady Frigidwake, I suggest we don’t don’t keep His Majesty waiting.” he stated gruffly. Selene nodded and stepped through the imposing doors of the Cathedral,
“Of course, I’m as ready to be done with this as I suspect he is.” she sighed “Please, lead on.”
~*~
Firetome huffed impatiently as he waited for his Scry to be picked up. What was taking that oaf so long? He looked at the timekeeper on his wall and drummed his fingers on his desk, of a mind to try again the next morning. Just as the High Inquisitor reached forward to dismiss his spell, the fog in the mirror cleared to reveal the annoyed countenance of Inquisitor Grimbeard. 
“Ye picked a bad time to check in, ye ken.” the grey-haired dwarf grumbled, “Starhammer’s bein’ a right pain in my arse.” 
Firetome glared at the skinny dwarf,
“I don’t much care to hear about Starhammer right now. I’ve got a job for you.” he snapped. Grimbeard blinked, then shrugged,
“Well, go on then. It’s gotta be better than filing a tonne of paperwork fer no reason.” he groused. Firetome snorted and smiled,
“It’s some actual work for once, you’ll be glad to hear. Word in the vein is that His Majesty, in his infinite wisdom, is allowing one of our newest clerics to travel to Toreguarde in the near future.”
“This to do with that rumour about the Seal finally failing?” Grimbeard asked. He smiled widely as Firetome nodded, “Figured as much. The Tower’s been tryin’ to keep that under wraps, but I think the whole city’s heard about their Grand Magus’ ‘holiday’ by now.” he chuckled, “Wouldn’t be surprised if the Chancellor didn’t try to kick her out the minute she gets back. He’s being properly pissy right now from what I’ve been hearing from Starhammer.”
Firetome grumbled, sitting back in his seat with a shake of his head, 
“He can try, but I doubt it would work. In any case, I need you to keep an eye on this cleric’s activities after she arrives and get some words in the right ears about her adventuring in city limits. We might as well make that Edict work in our favour.” he said. Grimbeard stroked his beard thoughtfully,
“I can do that, aye. But why, and what’s in it for me?” he asked. Firetome scowled at the other dwarf,
“You don’t need to know the details, and because I said so as your High Inquisitor!” he snapped. Grimbeard snorted, his features twisting into an annoyed grimace,
“Look, I’m only here because our masters want that portal reopened. I don’t owe you any allegiances and I’ve got a bunch of other, more important stuff to be getting on with. So if you want me to keep an eye on this wean, ye better give me the details and pay up for it.”  he countered. Firetome groaned, running a hand down his face. This was why he’d been so grateful when Grimbeard had offered to take the position of Head Inquisitor for the Temple of Moradin in Toreguarde. However, he was a shrewd man and clearly knew how to bargain. Firetome glared at him,
“Fine. The lassie being sent your way is there to permanently seal the portal our masters want kept intact. However, she needs an artefact to be able to do so. If you can prevent her from acquiring it, then there’s nothing for us to worry about. As for what’s in it for you, I can fudge the numbers a bit and get ye another pay rise. If ye need more incentive, then I might be able to put in a good word to the Council for ye. See if we can’t get that old Grudge taken care of.” he suggested.Grimbeard smiled broadly,
“Thank you for the details and I’ll take the good word to the Council over the pay rise, ta. I’m sure I can have a word with a couple of folk to stymie the lassie’s efforts once she gets here.” he said, “Did you need anything else while you’ve got me, High Inquisitor?” he asked. Firetome shook his head, rubbing at his temple with his fingers,
“No, Grimbeard, just make sure she can’t do anything with the Seal. Good night.” he grumbled, waving his hand in the direction of his mirror to cancel the Scry. Speaking with that slimy sod always gave him such a headache. A pity that he was too useful to not interact with. Heaving a sigh, Firetome got up from his seat and creakily made his way to the barroom. After all that, he needed a drink.
~*~
Archlector Vanskleig smiled broadly as Selene walked through the door of his private apartment once more.
“I must apologise for making you walk back and forth across our city like this.” he said, gesturing to a seat as far away from where King Storri currently sat as possible. Selene shook her head,
“It’s no trouble. Not when so much is at stake. Besides, I need the exercise. My job normally involves far too much sitting.”  she quipped, happily taking her seat. The Grand Magus noted the chastised, if somewhat sullen expression on Storri’s face, but said nothing. Archlector Vanskleig nodded, 
“Of course. However, to the matter at hand. I’m sure you’re already more than aware of what Kherillim made of our king’s decision earlier this afternoon?” he queried. Selene nodded,
“It was a little hard to ignore, Your Eminence.” she agreed. The wizard finally glanced over to Storri, whose ears were already flushing with embarrassment. She returned her attention to Vanskleig, “I was also present at the front door when She made Her displeasure fully known through Meredith. I regret to inform His Majesty and yourself of the damage to your front door, but there was little I could do to prevent it.” 
“No apologies are necessary.” Storri said, “If anything, the fault is mine, and I aim to do what I can to rectify the situation.” 
Vanskleig sat back, while Selene turned her full attention to the Low King, watching the pair of them carefully. Selene shook her head,
“Which situation, Your Majesty? The door?” she sniped. King Storri schooled his expression as he looked up at the human woman. As much as the jibe rankled, he could not blame her for the comment. He inclined his head,
“Well, yes, the door situation is among those that need to be rectified.” he retorted with a small smile, before shaking his own head. “My words and actions this afternoon were out of line, and not in keeping with the demeanour expected of a king of Fangthane. For that dishonour, please accept my most humble apologies.” he stated formally, bowing his head enough for his beard to reach his seat.
Selene wanted to be annoyed with the king, but she felt the flare of anger in her heart guttering out at his words. She closed her eyes for a moment, huffed out another sigh and leaned forward as she opened them again,
“Your Majesty, all I want is for the people of Allansia to be safe. The people of Fangthane included.” she stated, “I’m sorry that the only solution I’ve been able to find is one that seems to have reopened old wounds, truly I am. However, were I to return to Toreguarde without a solution, the city and continent I have wept and bled for will die, and there will be nothing I can do to stop it.” she pleaded. Storri stared at Selene, finally seeing the face of the desperate woman who had watched his father declare war against the demons a scant ten years before rather than the imposing Grand Magus that had walked into the mountain a few days ago. The young dwarf looked down at the floor,
“I heard you say as much before, and regret that I refused to listen. I also regret that it took the intervention of our Beloved Mother for me to see reason on this matter.” he murmured, “While I cannot help you with regards to acquiring the God Clay, I can help by allowing Miss Ironforge to travel to Toreguarde to render what aid she can in the meantime.” he stated, “I have already discussed this with both His Holiness and High Priest Ragnarsson, and we are all in agreement that it will be to the benefit of everyone involved, not least Miss Ironforge herself.”
Selene smiled and bowed her head,
“Thank you, Your Majesty, words truly cannot express my gratitude.” she said. She looked up at the young king, “Again, I do not blame you for your reluctance. Were our situations reversed I believe you would have had as much as, if not a more difficult, time convincing Toreguarde’s Council of your own need for aid.” she shook her head, “It is also not within general human nature to hold long-term Grudges of the sort that dwarves tend towards, so know that no further animosity will be held against you for your words or actions.” Selene smiled softly as king Storri seemed to finally let go of the tension within his body. Clearly this was something he had been very worried about.
Storri whooshed out a long breath as Selene finished speaking. While he did not believe humans held Grudges like dwarves did, he wasn’t sure if the Grand Magus would hold his animosity towards her against him. Now that she had flat-out stated that she did not, he could finally think clearly once more. He nodded,
“Thank you, Grand Magus. All we ask in return is that Miss Ironforge is kept as safe as possible while she is within Toreguarde’s territory. There are many in the Council who will rankle against this decision, and I would prefer to have evidence to refute any claims regarding the people – and Council – of Toreguarde and their attitudes towards my people that may well be bandied around.”  he stated. Selene nodded,
“That seems fair, though the fact that the dwarven community within Toreguarde is positively thriving ought to be evidence enough, I concede that the Council may wish to ignore that in favour of their own biases. Gods know the Toreguarde Council is just as guilty of this, despite the best efforts of those who know better.” she added with a mutter. Storri chuckled, running a hand over his beard, making the ornamentations jangle at the motion,
“Perhaps I can persuade you to join me for a small tea time snack before you leave so we can complain about our respective governments?” He suggested, “We don’t often get a chance to air all our grievances, and it will be refreshing to hear from another in a similar situation.” 
Archlector Vanskleig smiled and gently rang for one of his attendants as the Grand Magus and his king conversed with one another. Now that the earlier hostilities had given way to casual conversation, he could afford to leave them to it and attend to other matters.
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aquadestinyswriting · 2 years ago
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A Circle None Can Break- Part Eight
Summary: Vera tries to find out what's going on with High Inquisitor Firetome the night before the council session. Selene faces the Fangthane Council the following morning and has to face the ire of the dwarven people regarding events that were well out of her control
Words: 2,824
Warnings: Political BS? Maybe, possibly some degree of victim blaming? Nothing overly serious I don't think
Notes: This took a lot longer to wrangle than I wanted it to, but I'm finally happy with it. This is a scene I've been iterating on for years at this point.
tags: @druidx, @strosmkai-rum, @homesteadchronicles, @warriorbookworm, @odysseywritings, @asher-orion-writes, @blind-the-winds, @writeblrsupport
Vera glanced around the office, checking and rechecking all the darkest corners just to make sure that Firetome hadn’t left anything to catch anyone snooping around unawares. Satisfied that there was nothing in the office that would alert the High Inquisitor to her unauthorised presence in the room, the young dwarven woman crept up to the filing cabinet. 
Vera did not know what she was looking for exactly. All she knew was that there was something very wrong with the way Firetome had conducted his interview with the Grand Magus and she intended to find out why. Vera quickly opened the top drawer of the cabinet and rifled through the paperwork within it,
“No wonder he can’t find anything. There’s no rhyme or reason to any o’ this.” she muttered, quickly placing several sheafs of parchment back where she had found them. After several minutes of fruitless searching, the dwarven woman stepped back, hands on her hips. Given the utter lack of organisation, it would take far too long to find anything in the reports that Firetome had been given. She needed a new strategy. 
Vera tucked a skein of sandy hair back behind her ear, closing the filing cabinet as quietly as she could manage and looked around the room. She grasped her holy symbol and gingerly looked around the room more carefully. Small motes of blue-purple and faint gold met her gaze, most of them small, innocuous objects that the High Inquisitor had either found or been gifted. Some items had red auras around them, clearly items that had been handed to the High Inquisitor for further investigation and safekeeping.
Vera had been about to give up entirely when she felt her attention being gently nudged towards a pile of parchment on the far corner of the desk. There didn’t seem to be anything at all amiss about it, but something in her gut was telling her that what she was looking for was in that pile. Despite her young age, Vera knew better than to ignore that feeling and seized it, quickly walking around the desk and flipping through the paperwork. Most of it seemed to be made up of half-finished reports and financial statements that were clearly to be sent to the Council. She paused as she picked up yet another statement, brow furrowing as she looked at it more closely. At first, it seemed to be just another monthly budget, but a small tilt to one side showed the scratch marks left of something else. Someone, likely Firetome himself, had been writing a note on a piece of parchment and had been using the pile to lean on. Vera squinted as she tilted the parchment one way then another in an attempt to make out what the note had said. 
‘Tell ...bal…‘rkhide in pos… gus held in… no troub…bririan looking fo… Ake opportu…eal left unguar…strik…on hot…
Hope to… eeting soon.’
Vera grunted in frustration. This was no good as actual evidence, but clearly Firetome was communicating with someone and trying to organise a meeting of some sort and was imploring whoever he was speaking to to ‘strike while the iron was hot’. She looked through some of the other papers in the stack, only to come up empty-handed. Her only hope at this point was to hope that she could find the actual note, but given how far down in the stack this budget had been… Vera grumbled as she put the piece of parchment back where she had found it. As much as she wanted to find some sort of evidence that Firetome was up to something nefarious, it seemed as though she had long since missed the boat. The only thing she could do now was to keep a closer eye on the High Inquisitor and hope that he let something slip.  
The young inquisitor shook her head as she crept back out of the office, it was very unlikely that she would have the opportunity to work very closely with Firetome again unless something went horrifically wrong with the Council session the next morning. Perhaps it would be worth asking Agnar if he could have her be an aide to the High Inquisitor for a week or two? After all, she would need to know how to file her reports once she finished up her training and what better way to learn than to shadow the man responsible for compiling the reports for the Council to look at later? Feeling a little better, Vera walked out of the cathedral, heading for home. There would be time enough to ask about that after the Council Session; for now the young dwarf needed to get her rest if she wanted to attend and find out what exactly was going on with the Grand Magus’ visit.
~*~
The whole of Fangthane was abuzz with gossip from first light the next morning. News of the Grand Magus’ meeting with the full Fangthane Council had spread like fire through a coal seam, and now practically everyone was trying to crowd into the public seats of the council chambers. 
Edwin sucked in a breath as he clambered to his seat, looking up at the public seating above. It was a testament to how many had been lost to the Demon War that, despite the huge crowds of people that had been waiting outside an hour ago, the public galleries were only barely three quarters full after everyone had finally been permitted inside. Of course, there were plenty of dwarves that couldn’t attend for various reasons, but Edwin doubted that even they couldn’t completely fill the huge chamber. Edwin tore his gaze away from the galleries above and down into the petitioner’s chamber. It was currently empty, but Edwin knew Selene was waiting in the antechamber. While his old friend was clearly far more experienced in politics than Alexis had been, he couldn’t help but feel that this session was going to be so much worse to sit through than that one had been. He mechanically got up then kneeled as Captain Bloodvein entered the Royal Box, banged his hammer on the floor and announced the Low King’s arrival.
Selene looked up at the Kingsguard who had escorted her to the main council chamber at the muffled announcement. The armoured dwarf poked her head out of the door and nodded, holding it open so Selene could hear what was going on. The wizard stood, gripping her staff and listened intently.
King Storri looked around the chamber, at the vast sea of people who had come to see what the fuss was about. He whooshed out a breath, then stepped forward to the edge of his box,
“Ye may all be seated.” he intoned, “As I’m sure everyone in the mount is aware, the Grand Magus of Toreguarde has requested an audience with the full Council of Fangthane to ask some questions of us. I will remind everyone present that the Lady Frigidwake is to be permitted to speak without interruption, and any who cannot keep their words to themselves will be escorted out of the chambers and given some time to reflect on their choices.” he glared across the room at the merchants sitting directly opposite him. “Ye will all be given the opportunity to air any grievances once the Grand Magus has finished her opening statement.” When no one raised any objections, the young king returned to his seat and sat down, gesturing to Captain Bloodvein. 
The kingsguard captain glanced down to the door to the antechamber and nodded to the guard standing ready at the door, then addressed the rest of the room,
“Presenting Grand Magus of Toreguarde, Hero of the Pagan Plains and Inheritor of the estate of the esteemed Magus, Gerith Yastromo the Yellow, Lady Selene Frigidwake.” he called.
Selene calmly walked out into the petitioner’s chamber and bowed deeply to the Royal box before nodding in acknowledgement to the rest of the Council. She glanced up to Edwin, feeling the nervous flutter in her stomach calm upon seeing him, and began to speak,
“Good dwarves of the Fangthane Council, know that I come not as a representative of Toreguarde, but simply as a Wizard who has come to seek your aid in dealing with a matter that concerns all the people living on Allansia.” She said her voice clear and sharp. She noted the various glares being directed at her from not just the Council members, but from within the public galleries as well. She paused a moment to consider her words, then began to slowly walk around the chamber,
“As I’m sure many have been made aware through various rumours, the Seal beneath the wizard’s tower in Toreguarde is failing. I have been researching numerous ways to try and stop this from happening, but have, thus far, been unsuccessful.” She paused again, looking up at the hundreds of dwarves that were staring down at her, allowing them to absorb what she had just said. She turned to the Royal box, back straight and head held high,
“During my research, I came across some scant information regarding an artefact colloquially known as God Clay. Now, I understand that, as Throff’s children, the dwarven people may have more information on such an artefact. I come before you all only to ask if I may be permitted to seek out further information from those that are far more knowledgeable than I.”
A rush of whispering overtook the previous stony silence, growing louder with every moment until,
“What right have you, a human, to ask about dwarvish secrets?” Someone from the public galleries demanded, “Especially one that’s responsible for a city that has turned its back on the friendship offered by us?” Selene looked up in the direction the voice had come from, unable to see through the gloom of the upper parts of the chambers,
“As I said earlier, Master Dwarf; I come before you as myself, not as a representative of a city I’ve come to realise has offended you all so deeply.” she replied calmly. 
“Why should we bother to help when it’s your own bloody fault the thing has to exist in the first place?” another voice shouted. Selene suppressed her wince. She had been warned that this topic might be brought up. She turned to the direction this new voice had come from, but was interrupted as the damn holding everyone’s opinion back finally broke and almost everyone began shouting and yelling all at once.
Selene huffed a sigh at the noise going on around her. She couldn’t make out any specific accusations, but the word ‘heretic’ was certainly being bandied around all too readily. She winced as a loud, ringing ting! echoed around the chamber, immediately silencing the angry shouts and yells. The wizard frowned in confusion, searching for the direction the sound had come from, only for her eyes to widen in shock and for her to drop to one knee, head bowed low to the floor. Selene could hear the intake of breath from everyone else in the room as all the dwarves present, King Storri included, immediately did the same thing.
An elderly dwarf, crooked and bent with age, slowly stood from his seat, hands gripping a tall, elaborate staff made of adamantine and mythril. An almost impossibly long beard draped to the floor and coiled around itself beneath his seat. He wore the purest white vestments lined with silver, mythril and gold filigree and a stole made of woven gold and brilliantly polished copper rested over his shoulders.Upon his tabard, which was woven out of the same thread as the stole, was a filigree hammer and anvil, sewn in silver and mythril. The Archlector of Moradin, the holiest man in the mountain, glared around the Council Chamber with a deeply disapproving glare,
“I must say that I am deeply disappointed in the lack of decorum on display.” He said, his voice level and clear, “Lady Frigidwake has come to us in order to seek help in dealing with a situation most dire, and this is the welcome she receives?” his words echoed around the chamber as the other dwarves shrank back from his gaze. The Archlector turned his attention to the Wizard at the bottom of the chamber, “I do apologise for the commotion, please continue.” He said, slowly lowering himself back into his seat.
Selene wondered how anyone had missed such an important figure’s presence in the Council Chamber as she slowly rose and gave the elderly dwarf another deep, respectful bow,
“My thanks, Archlector.” she said, quickly clearing her throat and looking around the room again, finally noticing that the Archlector had chosen to sit in the public galleries and not with the rest of the official Council. Recalling herself, the wizard addressed the rest of the room,
“I understand that the dwarves of Fangthane are, rightfully, angry with those of us who were present when the portal to the abyss was first opened. Please understand that this event, and the Demon War that followed, are deeply regretted by everyone involved. The past, however, cannot be changed. The portal exists, and while it does, it presents a great risk to the lives of all the peoples of Allansia, everyone in this mountain included.” She turned back to King Storri, “I was tasked by Yastromo himself to look after the people of the Pagan Plains, and I will not allow myself to fail in this duty. Not again.” 
Storri stared at Selene, a disquieting feeling settling in his gut. He swore he’d seen that same haunted expression on another’s face, but he couldn’t think whose, when or where. However, he recognised the look of a woman who had stared into the face of utter defeat and could not bear to do so again. He nodded and looked around at the rest of his council,
“All those in favour of assisting Lady Frigidwake in her endeavour?” he called. Selene closed her eyes as the council members conferred with one another, the quiet mumbling a balm to her ringing ears. 
“All against?” she heard Storri sigh. Now the only sound was the rustling of fabric. She slowly opened her eyes again and looked up at the young king, who nodded down at her,
“Very well, Lady Frigidwake. You are permitted to speak with the relevant authorities regarding your request. I will also add that I will personally convene a smaller meeting to discuss your findings and whether Fangthane will lend any further aid in your endeavour to permanently close the portal.” he said, “Don’t make me regret this.” he added firmly. Selene beamed up at him,
“Thank you, Your Highness, and esteemed Council members. I will be sure to make this as quick and painless as possible.” she confirmed. Storri merely waved at her and gestured to Captain Bloodvein, who nodded and tapped his hammer on the floor of the box,
“His Royal Highness declares this session closed!” he intoned. Selene waited as the Council shuffled out, noting the severely disappointed and disapproving expressions on more than half the members’ faces. Had the king overruled the decision of the rest of the Council? She didn’t have time to ponder this any further as she felt the magical weave in the room being pulled together. Her guard for the day quickly bundled her into the antechamber, closing the door as a muffled ‘boom’ went off, causing some dust to fall down from the ceiling. Selene huffed out a sigh,
“Let me guess? Someone was a lot less happy about the outcome of that than everyone else?” she asked sarcastically. The guard snorted,
“Looks like. Either that, or we’ve got another bout of attempted assassinations on our hands.” she replied, “I’m gonna have to ask you to stay put while I assist the rest of my unit in apprehending those responsible.” Selene grimaced, but nodded,
“Of course.” she said tightly, “As much as I’d like to help, I’m painfully aware that my presence will likely make your day a lot more difficult than it already is.” The guardswoman sent the wizard a lop-sided smile,
“The offer’s appreciated, but… aye. I’ll see if I can get the Abouna in here to sit with ye, at least that way I’ll not get a bollocking for leaving ye unattended.” she offered, quickly adjusting the strap holding her sword in place before launching herself out of the door. Selene huffed a sigh as she sat down. Were it not for the fact that he was outside the mountain right now, she would have taken the opportunity to get Chrackle to find the one responsible for the Fireball going off. At least so she could rule out the involvement of the Cabal. Grumbling, Selene sat down in the chair and pulled out her spellbook. At least she could get on with adjusting some of her matrices while she waited.
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aquadestinyswriting · 2 years ago
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A Circle None Can Break- Part Five
Summary: King Storri broods for a bit before confront Edwin in the Council Chamber about his actions the previous evening. Edwin expects a telling off, but is not prepared for how low the Low King of the dwarves is prepared to stoop.
Words: 2,624
Warnings: None that I can immediately think of. Let me know if there's anything that needs tagging
Notes: not much description or action in this one, but it's more about the character interactions and internal thoughts and feelings of two people in particular. This turned out very differently than I originally thought it would, but I think it works quite well.
tags: @druidx, @strosmkai-rum, @homesteadchronicles, @warriorbookworm, @odysseywritings, @asher-orion-writes
King Storri fumed as he brooded in his office next to the Council Chambers. He had not wanted to believe that one of the people on the ruling council of another city state was plotting to assassinate him, but the evidence that had been presented was hard to ignore.He had just come to terms with the idea of having to question one of the most powerful wizards in the world when the Abouna had demanded to see him down in the dungeons, ranting about ‘inhumane treatment of a visiting dignitary’ and ‘an abhorrent case of animal cruelty’. According to Galana’s high priest; the accusations against the Grand Magus were egregious to the extreme and so damnably laughable that the man had all but stated that the whole thing was merely an attempt by malicious, outside forces to undermine the authority of the majority of the Fangthane Council.
The dwarven king inhaled deeply through his nose to calm himself before whooshing it out again. While it seemed relatively unlikely, a similar situation had happened before, and not that long ago. Storri still remembered the deep shame his father had felt upon realising that exiling Dar Ivan from the mountain for daring to tell the dwarves of Fangthane that he’d been chosen by Moradin to wield His hammer had been a mistake. Nargond had been pressured, though admittedly not that hard, by the Council to make an example of what they deemed to be a Heretic of the highest order. Fangthane was still reeling from the consequences of King Nargond’s choice to become a slayer because of that mistake just over a decade later. Was this situation really any different? All the Grand Magus had said was that she was seeking information to help permanently seal up the Hellmouth beneath her city. That was no bad thing. If the Hellmouth could be permanently closed, the peoples of Allansia, the dwarves included, could finally live without the fear of it opening up again.
King Storri shook his head. He could think more on that particular conundrum later. For now, there was the matter of what to do with the Abouna and the consequences he needed to face for his actions the previous evening. While the man was a well-respected member of the Council, his conduct during his ‘conversation’ with the guard could not be publicly condoned. Yes, it was very clear, even to Storri, that the Abouna had likely simply been a conduit of Galana’s power, but that didn’t excuse the Abouna from failing to follow protocol. There was also the matter of what he spoke about with the Grand Magus. Had he told her about the charges against one Alexis Dalliance? Had she told him anything about the woodling’s current whereabouts? If the Grand Magus was unaware of either, it was probably best to make sure she never found out. 
~*~
Edwin calmly looked around the Council Chambers, making note of who had decided to come along. Both Auld Derek and Haneskeeper were sitting amongst the other scholars and nobles, quietly chatting to one another. Lady Copperheart, a reasonably recent addition to the Council, glowered at the human, opened her fan and turned to talk to Lord Silverhand, who frowned and nodded. Edwin mentally shrugged and swept his gaze across the large cavern to his fellow clergy members of the various religions that were practised in Fangthane. High Priest Ragnarsson had shown up, along with High Inquisitor Firetome, both of the Church of Moradin. High Priest Stonebridge of the Church of Pelor was sitting next to Father Leadsmith, a lower ranking member of St. Cuthbert who had come in place of the High Priest. Edwin remembered that the old longbeard had taken ill not too long ago, and was apparently on the way out, naming Leadsmith as his successor. Edwin glanced up towards the Royal Box as Captain Bloodvein, dressed in his full ceremonial armour, stepped out of the door and banged the end of his warhammer on the floor,
"All rise," he called, "for His Majesty the Gilded, King Storri Nargondsson, Lord-High Commander of Fangthane, Archduke of Stonebridge, Denheb Iben of Moradin, Diamond of Throff, and Low King of Dwarves in all His Realms and Territories!" Edwin, like everyone else in the room, knelt as the door opened once more and King Storri strode to his seat. He didn’t rise again until he was directly addressed by the young dwarf,
“Abouna Goodwin, d’ye mind informin’ the rest of the Council as to why ye felt the need to breach several prison protocols and demanded my immediate presence in the dungeons yesterday eve?” Storri asked imperiously. Edwin raised an eyebrow as he rose to his feet. Clearly his conversation with the king had ruffled his feathers a bit. The cleric nodded, looking around the vast chamber, which was only half-full for this session, he noted. 
“Certainly, Your Majesty.” Edwin replied pleasantly, “It came to my attention, while I was waiting for Lady Frigidwake to arrive at one of the many taverns in the mount, that she had been arrested on what I felt were extremely egregious charges.” Edwin glanced up at the nobles and merchants, searching for those that clearly disagreed with him. He quickly returned his attention to Storri, “As those who were at the Hammer and Anvil yesterday eve can confirm, I was not alone in believing this as both Galana and Moradin saw fit to make their displeasure known.” Edwin paused as a rush of whispering made its way around the chamber. He caught Ragnarsson cocking his head in confusion out of the corner of his eye and gave the old dwarf a slight nod. Firetome snorted and stood,
“I am fairly certain that, were the dwarf father unhappy with the idea of Lady Frigidwake’s arrest, those of us in the cathedral would have sensed it.” he stated, “As it is, neither myself nor High Priest Ragnarsson, or any other clerics in the cathedral at the time sensed a damn thing!” Edwin stared at the flame-haired High Inquisitor, arching an eyebrow,
“Really now?” he asked smoothly, “Are you truly wishing to discount the eyewitness accounts of all forty-six dwarves present in the tavern last night? At least one of whom was one of the Cathedral’s own?” Firetome opened his mouth to retort, but was swiftly interrupted by Captain Bloodvein banging his hammer on the floor again,
“Enough!” Storri called out, “We all have a lot to be getting on with, and I’d rather not be here longer than absolutely necessary.” Firetome glared at Edwin, but inclined his head to the king and sat back down. Edwin turned back to Storri and inclined his head,
“Of course, Your Majesty, forgive me. I just felt it necessary to clarify the situation in the Hammer and Anvil last night.” The king huffed a sigh and shifted in his seat, regarding the cleric in front of him critically,
“Be that as it may.” he groused, “Tell me, Abouna, why do you believe the charges to be so egregious?” he asked wearily. Edwin stood a little straighter, 
“Because while it has been more than a decade since our last interaction, I do not know Selene to be a liar.” he stated plainly, “There is also the matter of her being a target of multiple assassination attempts herself, most of them conducted by the remaining members of the Cabal that she and the rest of my former travelling companions were forbidden from pursuing after Toreguarde had been rebuilt.” 
“That may very well refute the allegations that she is working alongside the Cabal, but it does not address the rest of the charges.” Storri pointed out, “Fangthane has openly stood against the Drakemari Empire and Toreguarde is not considered to be a part of it. What assurances can you give the Council that the Lady Frigidwake has not been sent here as a spy for either Toreguarde, or for Drakemar?” Edwin nodded,
“Lady Frigidwake told me herself that she wanted to come to Fangthane of her own volition from a location outside of Toreguarde.” he replied evenly, “The letter she sent via her familiar, which only states that she wished to speak with me through a private Scry, does not bear the Toreguarde Seal. If she was planning to come here as a spy for the Toreguarde Council or for Drakemar, then she would not have felt the need to use her personal one in its stead.” 
“Unless it was a means to deceive you, of course.” Storri retorted. Edwin froze. While he knew for certain that Selene was not lying about her reasons for coming to Fangthane, he found he did not have a suitable rebuttal. Storri got up from his seat, gesturing for the rest of the Council to remain seated, and leaned on the balcony railing, “Answer me this, Abouna; have ye spoken with Lady Frigidwake about Miss Dalliance?” a low murmur made its way around the chamber. It was well known by pretty much everyone in the mountain that Edwin had been good friends with the now disgraced woodling woman. It was also very well known that he had openly protested against the charges placed against her following the attempted assassination of the king. The murmur died down, all ears intently listening for the Abouna’s reply as the human shook his head,
“I did not get a chance to inquire, Your Majesty. The topic, no doubt, would have been brought up had the Lady Frigidwake been permitted to join me for drinks.” Edwin replied as calmly as he could manage. He grit his teeth. So this was how the Low King wanted to play it? Edwin still remembered what had really happened the night Alexis had escaped, but Princess Garni had been the only other remaining witness and her account had conflicted with his. King Storri narrowed his eyes and raised a meaningful eyebrow at the cleric,
“Alright, then has Lady Frigidwake brought up Miss Dalliance during any of your prior interactions with one another?” he asked. Again, Edwin shook his head, 
“No, Sire, she did not.” he said, “Lady Frigidwake was more concerned with finding out how to get rid of the Hellmouth under her tower. No mention was made of Alexis or her whereabouts.” 
“D’ye have any reason to suspect that Lady Frigidwake is aware of where and what Miss Dalliance did upon leaving Toreguarde?” The tension in the chamber was palpable. Every dwarf in the room held their collective breath. This was very clearly no longer about the wrongs the Abouna had committed, but an interrogation into what he believed the wizard’s motives to be, and whether he was complicit. Edwin caught Firetome’s satisfied smirk out of the corner of his eye. Of course it would be the Inquisitor making these allegations, he thought. Firetome was conservative, even for a dwarf, and the thought of welcoming outsiders to the mountain went against everything he believed. That included Edwin’s appointment as Abouna and his inclusion in the Council. Edwin reigned in his smouldering anger. There would be time enough to work out how to get around the High Inquisitor later. Edwin leaned on his staff,
“Your Majesty, and the esteemed members of the Council that believe Miss Dalliance to be an oathbreaker and a murderer, and who no doubt also already believe that lady Frigidwake is guilty of the charges brought against her; Alexis told me herself that she left Toreguarde City without even informing Lady Frigidwake that she had done so. Her only communication was a letter left with the wizard’s tower stating that she was leaving- with no information as to where she was going or why- and one other penned under my supervision informing Lady Frigiwake of her then good health.” he glared at the galleries for a moment before returning his attention to the king, “In summary; I have no reason to believe that Lady Frigidwake is at all aware of Alexis’ actions while staying in Fangthane.” Storr regarded the human man for a moment, stroking his glossy, black beard, before nodding in apparent satisfaction and sitting back down,
“Very well.” he stated, fixing Edwin with a hard stare, “In which case, I will make only this demand of you Abouna; Should the topic of Miss Dalliance be breached, even in casual conversation, you are not to inform Lady Frigidwake of any of Miss Dalliances’ actions after she left Toreguarde. Further to this, should Lady Frigidwake disclose any information about Miss Dalliance’s actions following her departure from Toreguarde, you are to immediately inform the Council of whatever information is disclosed.” Edwin couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Selene deserved to know what had happened to the erstwhile woodling, where she had gone. To keep that kind of information from her was a huge breach of the trust they all had with one another. Then to demand that he betray that trust further by telling the Council what she knew, even if the wizard spoke to him in confidence? His ears rang as shouts erupted, mostly from the other clergy he noted gratefully, but also many from the merchants. Captain Bloodvein slammed his hammer on the floor repeatedly,
“We will have order!” he bellowed. It took a few moments, but eventually the shouting died down. Storri glared around the chamber momentarily, then returned his attention to Edwin,
“Do you understand these demands, Abouna?” he asked. Edwin glared up at him,
“And if I refuse?” he asked mildly. Storri tilted his head up, the dim light of the few glowstones lighting the chamber catching the many clasps in his beard along with the necklace around his neck,
“Then ye’ll be removed from the Council and yer position as Abouna of the temple o’ Galana and yer status as citizen of Fangthane will also be revoked.” Edwin stared up at the king. So it was either betray the trust of a dear friend or find himself without a church and a home and likely become excommunicated from the organised part of his faith? He looked over to his fellow religious leaders. All of them were staring between the king and Edwin. All but Firetome, who looked all too happy with this turn of events despite the mostly shocked outward appearance. His gaze travelled across the chamber to look at the nobles and merchants. Many of them were shocked at how far the king was willing to go to keep what Alexis had done while she was in the mountain a secret, they didn’t seem very unhappy about it. He felt a gentle, but sad, touch in his breast.
~I’m sorry, Sel. But I’m still needed here.~ he thought, hanging his head in resignation and turning it into a deep bow,
“As His Majesty Demands.” he intoned, his voice flat and wearied. Storri regarded the man below him for a moment, nodded his head in satisfaction and looked around the rest of the chamber,
“As for the matter of Lady Frigidwake, I will request that the High Inquisitor question Lady Frigidwake under a Zone of Truth. Should her stated motivations for visiting our city be proven true, she will be freed and permitted to seek whatever information she requires to seal up the Hellmouth beneath Toreguarde.” There was another bout of murmuring, but no one spoke up, half out of fear of attracting the king’s ire and half because they were ultimately happy with the situation. Nodding in satisfaction, Storri rose,
“Then I declare this session closed.” he stated, sweeping out of the chamber with Captain Bloodvein following close behind. Edwin stared down at his feet as the rest of the chamber emptied, wondering what in the Garden he was going to do now.
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aquadestinyswriting · 2 years ago
Text
A Circle None Can Break- Part Three
Summary: Selene is finally called to a meeting with the King and one of the Head Librarians, only to get a lot more than she bargained for.
Words: 2,389
Warnings: Aside from some very mild bad language, I don't think there's anything that needs to be warned for. Please let me know if I'm incorrect
tags: @druidx, @strosmkai-rum, @homesteadchronicles, @warriorbookworm, @odysseywritings
Note: The Miranda Rights might be different to what many expect. That's because I used the UK (Scotland) one.
Selene frowned as she followed Stormbreaker through the halls of the palace. Those damned magic-dampening runes now seemed to cover almost every inch of the place. Almost. There were definitely areas that had been missed. Whether that was by accident or to allow the staff to use magic for some of their work remained to be seen.
"Right, wait here 'til ye're called. I'll let His Majesty ken ye've arrived." Stormbreaker suddenly said, stopping in front of a rather plainer looking door than the wizard was expecting. Selene nodded and stood to one side of the door, leaning against the wall as the kingsguard lieutenant stepped inside. The antimagic runes hastily carved into the stone sparked slightly at the contact, causing an unpleasant shiver to run down the wizard’s neck. It had been a very long time since Selene had last been bereft of the ability to sense the magical weave of the world and the sensation was even less pleasant than she recalled. Not only that, but now she was also without her connection to her familiar. She hoped that Chrackle wasn’t panicking at the lack of connection to her. The last time she’d been inside an antimagic field the bird had at least been able to see her. She looked over as Stormbreaker opened the door again and stood to the other side of it,
“Presenting the Grand Magus of the City of Toreguarde, Lady Selene Frigidwake.” he intoned, gesturing for the human woman to get to the door. Selene pushed off from the wall and made her way to the door. She inclined her head in a short bow as she stepped into the little room. It seemed to be a study of some sort. A desk was placed to one side of the room, two stacks of parchment neatly piled to one side and a quill sitting in the ink pot. Directly ahead was a large fireplace, around which several comfortable chairs were placed and a smaller table between them. Three tankards filled with ale had been placed on the table, along with a platter of various meats, assorted cheeses, dwarven hardtack and some of the fruits that grew on the side of the mountain. 
In one chair, sending the human woman a wide smile, was an elderly dwarf, his beard having long since turned grey. He was wearing scholar's robes and a pair of pince-nez glasses were perched on the end of his nose. Standing in front of the fireplace, back currently turned to Selene, was a much younger dwarf. Dark hair fell in ringlets down his back, partially obscuring the Goldseeker family crest that adorned the back of his rich, purple, fur-trimmed cape. He was wearing a kirtle embroidered with gold and silver thread and he wore a ceremonial pauldron on one shoulder, to which the cape was attached. Selene could just about make out the glint of mythril chainmail peeking out from beneath the kirtle. King Storri Goldseeker, his hands clasped behind his back, addressed his guest, his back still turned to her,
“It’s no’ very often we get to meet the greatest heroes of the age more than once in one’s lifetime.'' he stated levelly, “I’ve heard some reasons as to why ye’ve decided to visit our hallowed halls once more, but I would hear them in your own words.” Selene took another step into the room, glancing to the librarian with a puzzled look, before returning her attention to the monarch,
“Your Majesty, I am incredibly grateful to have been welcomed back to your majestic home, even after all this time. As to why I’m here; I am not sure how much the good Abouna told you, so forgive me for my bluntness-” 
“Forgiven. Proceed.” 
Selene bristled at the interruption, but tamped down her temper and carried on,
“Your Majesty, I came here seeking information that would help me to permanently close the Hellmouth that currently lies beneath Toreguarde.” she said. The Low King of Fangthane finally deigned to turn around and look at his guest, eyes narrowing,
“And what makes you think we have any pertinent information that would possibly help your cause?” he asked. Selene did not know what she had, personally, done to insult the dwarven man in front of her, but she could feel her temper wearing dangerously thin. Perhaps the antimagic runes weren’t such a bad idea after all. She inhaled deeply through her nose and slowly let it out before replying,
“To be perfectly frank, Your Majesty, I do not know for certain.” she said, only just managing to keep her tone even, “I only know that I have very thoroughly exhausted all other avenues at my disposal.” 
“What kind of information are ye after, lass? That will at least help us to figure out if we can even help ye.” The soft voice of the librarian was music to Selene’s ears. She turned to the elderly dwarf, a genuine smile lighting up her face,
“Thank you, Derek.” she sighed, “I’m looking to see if you have any information on-” Selene stopped and looked over to the door of the study, suddenly aware that there were raised voices coming from the other side. King Storri’s already thunderous frown deepened even further. He looked to the door and began a march towards it just as it burst open. The Captain of his Kingsguard- a tall and broad shouldered dwarf dressed in elaborately decorated full plate armour and a spec helm with a large, feathered plume on top- saluted the younger man and bowed deeply, holding his helmet under his arm,
“I apologise for the intrusion to this meeting, Your Majesty, but we have a situation.” he said, glancing over to Selene. King Storri groaned out a sigh and simply gestured for the Captain to carry on, pinching the bridge of his nose. Captain Bloodvein turned to the door and nodded to his Lieutenant, who ushered an unseen person forward. Selene froze as a troupe of Kingsguard marched into the room, hands on their weapons, surrounding her. Following in at the back, were two Ironguard and in the hands of one of them…
“Chrackle!” Selene yelped, her eyes widening on seeing the state her familiar was in. The corvid was wearing a falconer’s hood over his head and his wings and feet were tightly bound to his body. A thick, leather thong was wrapped tightly, too tightly, around his beak. Selene barely had time to process this when one of the Kingsguard snatched her staff away from her and two others forced her to her knees. Derek leapt to his feet, but was waved down by King Storri, who looked to Captain Bloodvein,
“Captain Bloodvein, what is going on?” he asked calmly. Bloodvein heaved a sigh and stepped towards Selene,
“Lady Selene Frigidwake, you are hereby placed under arrest by the authority of the Council of Fangthane under Section 1 of the Criminal Charges Act. The charges placed against you are as follows; of Conspiring with enemy agents, political Espionage on behalf of enemies of the Crown and plotting with enemies of the Crown to assassinate persons of political interest on the Fangthane Council. You do not have to say anything. But it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court.” Selene was silent as a pair of shackles were roughly placed on her wrists and she was hauled upright. Captain Bloodvein turned back to his king,
“Again, my most sincere apologies, Yer Majesty. I ken ye had questions for the Grand Magus, but they’re going to have to wait for now.” Storri nodded, glaring at Selene while she was walked out of the study,
“If the Council believes that she’s conspiring against us, I’d rather she were questioned properly about her motives.” Derek scoffed, lumbering over to the king and glaring at him,
“The charges are a load o’ nonsense, and you know it!” he snapped, “Now I don’t know who on the Council has a beef wi’ the lassie, but you ought to ken better.” Storri snorted,
“Do I now?” he rumbled, “Tell me, Head Librarian, does she not work as an official of the City of Toreguarde?” he asked smoothly, “Is Toreguarde not considered a part of the Drakemari Empire? And, lastly; is she, or is she not, a close friend and confidant of one Alexis Dalliance? Who, may I remind you, has been charged with attempted murder following a failed assassination attempt?” The older dwarf blustered for a moment, before recalling himself and bowing deeply,
“Point made, Yer Majesty.” he grumbled, “Well then, since my services are, apparently, no longer required, I suppose I’d better get back to the library.” he said. The longbeard paused at the door to the study,
“One last thing, Yer Majesty.” he said. Storri, who had turned back to the fireplace, glanced over to him,
“Yes?” he sighed wearily. Derek sent him the gravest stare that the king could ever remember being sent in his direction,
“Tread carefully. The last thing we need is for Toreguarde to have a reason to retaliate. There are good dwarves living there.” he said, closing the door as he walked out of it, leaving Storri to stare into the fire.
~*~
Edwin drummed his fingers on the table he was sitting at. He had been sat in the Hammer and Anvil for the last hour, having arrived after finishing his last service of the day, and Selene still hadn’t shown up. While he knew that she was in the city on business, surely speaking to the king shouldn’t have taken the whole afternoon? He looked around the busy pub, smiling as he watched the people around him enjoying their night. While he might have looked out of place to any outsiders, the dwarves here considered him one of them and any suggestions to the contrary would likely end with the ignorant sod being thrown out on their arse just out of principle.
Edwin watched as the pub’s landlord intervened in an escalating argument between a father and daughter, forcing both back into their seats and sitting between them. The Galanite did not envy Snorri;  his family were known for being hot-headed and everyone knew not to get involved in Ironforge internal disputes, especially ones the youngest daughter was involved in. Not unless they wanted a minor explosion of divine magic going off in their faces. Edwin lifted his tankard to take another swig of his ale, only to find that it was disappointingly empty.  He huffed and got up, about to make his way to the bar when the door of the pub slammed open.
As one, all the patrons turned to stare at the dwarf that had just arrived, huffing and panting as he stood in the doorway. The newly arrived patron stared around the pub, found Edwin and rushed over to him,
“Abouna! Abouna!” he called, “News that’s just filtered down from the Palace!” Edwin turned to the shorter man and quickly filled his currently empty tankard with some fresh water with a quick prayer. He handed it to the dwarf and sat back down,
“Alright, Firrik, calm down. What’s going on?” he asked. Firrik took a gulp of the water and stared up at Edwin, his eyes wide,
“Word in the vein is that your wizard friend’s been arrested.” he said. All other chatter in the pub died down as everyone else tuned into the conversation,
“The one that arrived this mornin’?”
“I thought she was invited?”
“Seems a bit stupid arresting an official that’s representin’ a city we’re meant to be allies wi’.” Edwin tuned out the rising noise of questions being called out, his heart hammering in his chest,
“On what grounds?” he asked, loudly enough for everyone else to hear. The noise quietened back down as Firrik fidgeted in his seat,
“I’m no’ sure of the exact charges. But from what I heard, it’s somethin’ to do wi’ conspiracy against the Crown and plotting with enemies o’ the Crown to assassinate the king.” Edwin stared at his friend, processing the information he had just been given. The rest of the pub was silent, everyone within waiting with bated breath to see what the Abouna would do. Everyone remembered the events that had occurred the last time one of his friends had come to the mountain. They’d have to have been living under the mountain’s roots to not. It was also extremely common knowledge, that the Grand Magus of Toreguarde was a close friend of the now publicly shamed and derided Alexis Dalliance (though if you asked any patrons of the Hammer and Anvil what they personally thought, many would say that she was a fine, upstanding woman and that the charges levied against her were probably a load of hogwash).  
For his part, Edwin felt oddly calm about the situation. Of course someone was going to try and get one of his old travelling companions arrested. Especially one that was so politically involved in a city that half the nobles of Fangthane despised. He felt a prickly touch in his chest as Galana made Her opinion of the matter clear. Edwin knew the allegations against Selene were egregious and used that knowledge to channel his mistress’ wrath. Before he could open his mouth however, he felt a surge of power from a table to his left. He glanced over just in time to see Snorri’s niece get up from her seat, the young woman’s face twisted into an angry snarl, the floor under her table rumbling,
“No! This isn’t right!” she snapped, “First, Dar Alexis, now the Grand Magus? What in the bloody Pit is the Council playing at?” Snorri reached over and pulled the girl back to her seat while her father glared at her,
“Merri! Language!” Well, that was two Gods who were none too pleased with this development, Edwin noted. He stood, a surge of righteous power gathering around him as well. The dwarves closest to the two clerics shifted back several feet as Edwin turned to the young Moradhir and nodded,
“Don’t worry, that’s something I fully intend to find out.” he growled, grabbing his staff and storming out of the pub, a trail of thorny vines following in his wake.
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aquadestinyswriting · 1 year ago
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A Circle None Can Break- Part Ten
Summary: King Storri has an intimate meeting with Ragnarsson, Head Librarian Haneskeeper and the Archlector, along with both of his children. In the meantime, Gruk finally admits that his youngest daughter might be the only person in the mountain that can help the Grand Magus in her quest.
Words: 3,423 a little longer than usual, but it's necessary.
Warnings: None
Notes: So who wants to know more about Fangthane's sordid history? This was such a fun chapter to write, but by all the gods, Selene can be so dense sometimes.
tags: @druidx, @strosmkai-rum, @homesteadchronicles, @warriorbookworm, @odysseywritings, @asher-orion-writes, @blind-the-winds, @writeblrsupport, @writeblrcafe
Despite an extensive search, the caster of the Fireball thrown into the middle of the council chamber was not found. While Captain Bloodvein had been annoyed that his guard for the Grand Magus had left the woman unattended, if only briefly, he had acknowledged the necessity. Thankfully, no one had been seriously hurt in the attempted assisination, but it was very clear to everyone involved that the target had been the Grand Magus herself, rather than the king or any of the Fangthane council members.
KIng Storri paced around his office, hands held firmly behind his back while Head Librarian Haneskeeper, the High Priest of Moradin and the Archlector watched from their seats. Prince Garin, stood awkwardly in the corner, eyeing his father warily, while his twin sister, Crown Princess Garni, poured out some much needed sweet tea.
“Come now, Father, you’ll wear yourself out with all that pacing, sit down and have some tea.” Garni said. Storri huffed a sigh and looked over to his daughter with a wane smile,
“My apologies Garni, I’ll sit down in a minute. Still too frazzled by what happened.” 
“Aye, we’re all a wee bit frazzled, Your Majesty, but the princess is right; ye’ll feel better once you’ve had something to drink.” Ragnarsson said. Storri huffed an irritated sigh, stopped pacing and grudgingly sat down and picked up the teacup. He took a small sip of the drink, then placed it back on the table. He sat back and ran a hand down his face,
“So, what are we gonna do about this?” he asked, “We all know the Grand Magus is like to want to leave much sooner now there’s been a public attempt on her life. Not that I’ll complain if she leaves early, mind, but I’m worried that we still don’t have any clue as to who did it.” 
“If I may, father, Captain Bloodvein is of the opinion that it was probably a member of the Cabal. He said something about the stink of dark, arcane magic.” Garin said. Storri lifted his head and looked at his son out of the corner of his eye,
“If that’s the case, then there’ll probably be more attempts.” he grumbled, “Any suggestions on how we handle things?” he asked the rest of the group. Haneskeeper shook his head, as did Ragnarsson. The Archlector, however, ran his fingers through his beard, his expression thoughtful,
“If this individual is the type to keep hanging around, then may I suggest a smaller meeting with the Grand Magus in a more secure part of either the palace or the Cathedral?” He said, “A second, very public, convening of the Council is likely to give the miscreant the opportunity to cause quite a lot of collateral damage should they make another attempt on the good Grand Magus’ life.”
All three other men stroked their beards thoughtfully. Garni scoffed,
“Forgive me, Yer Eminence, but if this individual is going to keep making attempts on the Grand Magus’ life, then surely it is in the best interest of the people of Fangthane for the Grand Magus to be given copies of whatever information it is she seeks and then sent on her way?” she asked. She ignored the warning glare her father sent her way and continued looking directly at the Archlector. The elderly dwarf gave the princess a warm smile,
“While I appreciate your concern, Your Highness, I believe that the Grand Magus has every right to know everything she needs to in order to prevent catastrophe befalling us all.” The Archlector looked over to Ragnarsson, “After all, it is not just the possible location of the God Clay that she requires.” he added, voice low. 
Storri frowned in confusion as he looked between the Archlector and Moradin’s High Priest. The latter was shifting uncomfortably in his seat. A few long moments later, Ragnarsson huffed a stressed sigh with a shake of his head,
“As much as I would rather we didn’t have to share that particular bit o’ knowledge, if using the God Clay is the only way to stop that hellmouth from being prised back open again, I suppose we have no other choice.”  he grumbled. Storri’s frown deepened,
“What d’ye mean ‘that particular bit of knowledge’?” he asked lightly, “If the Church has something to share, then I would very much like to hear about it.” Haneskeeper frowned, running his fingers through his greying, brown beard. Slowly his movements slowed and his eyes widened,
“Wait, ye canna possibly mean..?” he asked, trailing off as Ragnarsson glanced over to him and nodded, before returning his attention back to his increasingly irate king,
“I believe High Librarian Heimlig and High Inquisitor Firetome have previously explained that the Grand Magus did not only need access to the God Clay, but a Shaper as well?” he asked. Storri nodded, his face twisting into an unhappy grimace,
“Aye, that they did, though neither elaborated on that particular point.” he said, “They didn’t seem to think that we could provide one. Though, to be honest, I was more concerned about the God Clay itself at the time. Perhaps I should have asked them more about it.” he added with a shake of his head. Ragnarsson glanced over to Haneskeeper, who was staring, open-mouthed at the other man, disbelief writ plain over his weathered features. Haneskeeper shook his head and turned his attention to the king,
“A Shaper, Your Majesty, is an individual who has been Blessed by Kherillim with the ability to use and… well, shape, God Clay.” the old librarian explained, “It’s an ancient ability that was only ever found in one family line, passed down directly from one generation to the next. However, the line became extinct several centuries ago, during the War of the Red Hammer. There shouldn’t be a Shaper for the Grand Magus to use.” Storri frowned as he considered the information. Garni tapped her chin thoughtfully,
“Oh, wasn’t that the war that started because some cousins all the way over on the western coast of Allansia turned their worship to Ladeurger and were all turned into Duregar by Moradin as punishment?” she asked, “I remember reading a bit about it not long ago. Apparently there was a line that was once Blessed by Kherillim that fell from Her grace and were punished along with all the other heretics in the Purges that came in the war’s aftermath.” Haneskeeper nodded and smiled at the girl,
“I see ye’ve been keeping up with yer lessons, Your Highness.” he noted proudly. He turned his attention back to the other men in the room, “By all historical accounts, the Blessing in question should not currently exist.” 
Now that Garni had mentioned it, Storri did recall having to learn about the war of the Red Hammer in his own youth, along with the history of the Purges when he asked why so many clans were no longer talked, or written, about afterwards. He looked over to Ragnarsson and the Archlector, confused,
“So ye’re saying that Fangthane’s Church of Moradin has a Shaper, despite the fact that it should be an extinct ability?” he asked. Ragnarsson nodded,
"That is exactly what I'm saying, Your Majesty." The older man confirmed, "We've been keepin' it quiet because it's something that a lot of people with ill intentions will be very interested in." 
"Given that the girl exists at this particular time, however, is not a coincidence." The Archlector stated, "The Grand Magus has already all but stated outright that the God Clay is the only way to permanently seal the portal to the Pit that currently rests beneath her tower. While we do not have any of the God Clay here, we do have someone who can use it."
Storri stroked his moustache as the two clerics spoke. He was not happy to hear that such information had been kept from the Royal Family, though he understood Ragnarsson's reasoning. 
"You said girl," Storri said slowly, staring at the fireplace behind and between Ragnarsson and the Archlector, "how old?" He asked, already dreading the answer. Ragnarsson sighed,
"Not long reached age of majority, Your Majesty. We had her fully ordained as a cleric almost a year ago, on the Archlector's suggestion, rather than waiting 'til the next Throff's Day." 
Storri frowned, staring into the fire. While said girl was technically a woman, she was still so young… The king shook his head,
"Very well, we might as well convene a small meeting with only a few, senior members of the Council." He said. He turned his attention to Garin, who came to his father's side almost immediately, "Garin, please have a message sent to the Grand Magus informing her that there will be a meeting, arranged at our earliest convenience, to discuss any aid that we might be able to render." He said. Garin nodded, bowed, and quickly left the room. Garni cocked her head, her brow furrowing in consternation,
"Father, you cannot mean to –" she was quickly cut off by her father's stern glance,
"Nothing has yet been decided." He stated shortly, "The meeting is merely to go over the options available." 
The Archlector gave the affronted princess a soft smile, leaning forward,
"I realise that you worry for the young lady in question, Your Highness, and I am glad that you do. However, should it be Moradin's will that she go to Toreguarde to right the wrong that has been done to the world, then she, and we, must abide by it." He reminded her, glancing briefly over to Storri. Garni nodded, sitting back in her seat, chastened,
"Aye Yer Holiness." She said quietly. Storri bowed his head; he knew very well that to defy the Gods was folly. However, a small part of him still bristled. Fangthane couldn't afford to lose more people, especially the youngest of them. If the girl had a talent that was believed to have been extinct for centuries, then surely the Crown and Church had a duty to ensure her safety above all else?
Haneskeeper was the first to leave, muttering about needing to check the records held in his library. Garni, recognising her father was in a maudlin mood when Storri barely acknowledged the elderly dwarf, was quick to take responsibility for seeing her family's guests out the door.
Ragnarsson shook his head as he escorted the Archlector to their carriage,
"Do you think His Royal Nibs is going to let the lassie go with our wizard friend?" He asked, the two of them settling into their seats as the carriage rocked into motion. The Archlector leaned his head back, looking out the window at the palace,
"If not, then he will be in for a very rude awakening once Moradin deigns to take matters into His own hands." The ancient dwarf replied wearily. "For now, my friend, all we can do is wait." 
~*~
Selene tickled Chrackle under his beak and handed him a piece of the meat on her plate,
“Now, don’t go begging everyone else for some.” she warned, “You’ve had plenty.” Chrackle said nothing, either aloud or mentally, but he did send his wizard a short glare before flying back up into the rafters of the main barroom of the Hammer and Anvil. The pub was quiet, mostly because Snorri had only allowed his family and closest friends inside. It wasn’t that Selene wasn’t grateful, but she did worry that the landlord was going so far out of his way to help her,
“You don’t have to keep closing your establishment on my account, Snorri.” she said when the landlord returned to the table with another round of drinks, “I would have been perfectly happy to have stayed in my room.” she added. Snorri shook his head vehemently,
“I’ll no’ have a bunch of folk botherin’ ye with silly questions or comments, hen.” he replied. “Besides, it’s easier for yer security to keep an eye on ye with fewer folk around.” he added, nodding to the small group of kingsguard that were sitting at a nearby table, currently thoroughly enjoying Snorri’s hospitality. Edwin sighed,
“He’s got a point, Sel, I do feel a lot happier knowing everyone that’s in here is someone I know. I know the Crown has officially stated that the assassin that tried to kill you earlier was probably from the Cabal, but I’m not entirely convinced of that fact.” Selene frowned, turning her attention to her fellow human,
“What on Titan makes you say that, Edwin?” she asked, utterly perplexed, “I know there are plenty of dwarves here that have legitimate grievances against my presence, but I doubt any of them would have been stupid enough to have flung a Fireball at me while the Archlector and the King were present.” Edwin grimaced and said nothing, taking a gulp of the stout Snorri had handed to him instead. Gruk spoke up in the cleric’s stead,
“I wouldn’t be so sure, lass,” he sighed. “there was an incident involving a traveller who was passing through not that long ago. Since they’d come from Toreguarde’s way, they got a lot of grief themselves and had some attempts on their life, though the perpetrators were never caught. Most o’ the regulars here suspect that some of the most disgruntled folk in the mountain were responsible, if not directly, then they at least allowed outsiders entry into the mount to do their dirty work for them.” Selene grumbled and took a swig of her own drink,
“I suppose it doesn’t actually matter who it was, in the end. I made a lot of enemies in my time and I haven’t exactly been able to go and deal with them personally. I have a much more immediate problem to deal with anyway.” she said, drumming her fingers on the table and gesturing to the heavy, leatherbound book on the table next to her plate. Snorri blinked, noticing the ever so slight twitch in one of the Abouna’s eyebrows, but decided that, for the moment, it was best to keep his mouth shut. He looked back over to Selene as she started speaking once more,
“I asked Auld Derek if there was anything that he knew of that could help me locate some more information on the God Clay, or about Shapers, but this was the only thing he could find in the library. Apparently if I want something actually useful, I need to ask the Cathedral for access to their archives.” 
Gruk’s head snapped up,
“What was that, hen? Something about Shapers?”
All eyes turned to Gruk as Selene shrugged,
“Yes, the book Egrim let me see from his own collection, made mention that in order for the God Clay to be used, I’d need a Shaper.” she explained, “I figured it would be easier to ask about the God Clay first, then enquire about how to find a Shaper.” Her face pinched into a confused frown as Gruk slowly looked down at the table and shifted uncomfortably. Edwin laid a hand on the smith’s shoulder,
“Something on your mind Gruk?” he asked. Gruk’s worried frown lifted a little as he looked back up at the pair of concerned humans,
“Apologies, was just thinking about something Ragnarsson said a good while back.” he muttered, “It’s probably nothin’, but he did mention something about God Clay and Shapers when we were getting Merri enrolled as an Acolyte way back when.” Now it was Edwin’s turn to frown in confusion, while Selene leaned forward excitedly,
“Do you remember what he said?” she asked, “I only ask because this will give me a lead on who to talk to about it if the Council refuses to answer my questions at the next meeting.” 
Edwin watched Gruk’s expression; the man was clearly having some sort of internal debate about the subject, and Edwin wondered why the smith was suddenly being so cagey. Gruk was usually a very forthright individual, not one to bother with secrecy. Unless…?
Gruk fidgeted as he considered how to answer Selene’s question,
“Well, I do remember him saying that there were a couple of artefacts kept in the vault that were made of God Clay.” he said slowly, “I don’t recall him ever saying anything about the church having any that wasn’t already used to make things.” Snorri cocked his head in confusion,
“Why would he even mention the stuff to you?” he asked, “The only cleric we’ve got in the family is Merri! And ye just said ye were there to enrol her as an acolyte.” The ex-slayer took a breath to carry on with his interrogation, but was stopped by Edwin holding up at hand. The Abouna squeezed Gruk’s shoulder,
“You don’t have to answer, Gruk, but Snorri makes an excellent point.” he said slowly, “The High Priest of Moradin wouldn’t tell you something like that if it wasn’t relevant.” he added. 
Gruk tried not to let his panic show, but he was having a hard time doing so. He should have just kept his big mouth shut. He truly didn’t know much more than what Ragnarsson had told him, but if he told them everything then they’d want his wee baby girl to leave and help solve their problem immediately. He couldn’t let that happen, she was too young and inexperienced in the ways of the wider world. Another part of him railed against the instinct, reminding him that his youngest daughter was now a grown woman, and she was clearly aching to get out there and help. Who was he to stop her if she wanted to go? While he was no cleric, Gruk knew enough to know that to deny a Call was to defy the very God that his daughter now worked for. He heaved a sigh and looked between Edwin and Selene for a moment before hanging his head,
“It was relevant.” he said, voice low, “Merri found a bowl made of God Clay when she was just a wee bairn. She had gotten some of the claydust on her hands and found she could make things with it. By the time Ragnarsson and I found her, she’d already made a wee mouse companion for herself that was running around her feet.” He explained, “I knew it meant something, but I wasn’t told any details until I went to get the paperwork to enrol her as an acolyte a decade later.” Gruk looked back up, his expression haggard as he looked over to Selene,
“I’ve no idea if we’ve even got any God Clay in the mount, hen, but ye said it yourself; it’s no use to ye if ye don’t have someone that can use it.” 
“And your daughter is probably the only one that anyone knows of that can.” Selene surmised, grimacing at the defeated expression on the smith’s face. She reached over and laid a hand on top of his, “If there was any other way for me to deal with this, I’d jump all over it.” she said apologetically, “The last thing I want is to drag innocent people who had nothing to do with the portal’s existence into this mess.” Gruk smiled up at her,
“I ken.” he sighed wearily, “As much as I don’t like it, my wee girl is grown up and can make her own choice on the matter. And I rather get the feelin’ she’ll jump at the chance to help ye.” Edwin fiddled with one of the braids in his beard, frowning,
“That’s if the Council will let her.” he said, “We don’t even know if the Council wants to tell Selene anything about where she can even find the God Clay yet, never mind sending a barely adult woman to help a city they seem to despise.” he pointed out. Selene huffed a sigh,
“Well, let’s get the next Council meeting out of the way first. If they can’t help with locating the God Clay itself, I can at least make inquiries about them allowing Meredith to help.” 
None of the people around the table had noticed that one of the kingsguard had left the nearby table as soon as the conversation had ended. The heavily armoured dwarf excused himself, stating that he was going to do a quick patrol around the pub. No one noticed him pull out a small hand mirror from one of the pouches on his belt as he walked out the door. Firetome was going to be very interested to hear about this.
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aquadestinyswriting · 2 years ago
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A Circle None Can Break- Part Seven
Summary: Firetome reveals exactly why Selene has come to Fangthane to King Storri ahead of the council meeting. Meanwhile, Selene and Edwin discuss matters between Fangthane and Toreguarde while Edwin stresses out.
Words: 1,639
Warnings: None.
Notes: A short chapter before we launch into the council meeting. The last bit was too perfect to ruin by adding any more.
tags: @druidx, @strosmkai-rum, @homesteadchronicles, @warriorbookworm, @odysseywritings, @asher-orion-writes
King Storri leaned back in his seat, steepling his fingers in front of his lips as High Inquisitor Firetome spoke,
“I don’t know where she managed to find such information, Your Majesty. While her motivations for visiting us are as she stated, it does seem a little- how should I put it?- convenient that the Grand Magus has managed to procure knowledge of such a rare artefact.” he said. Head Librarian Heimlig, one of the oldest dwarves in the mountain, scoffed,
“Every child on this world knows how it was created, Firetome.” the elderly dwarf stated, “It's no secret the stuff exists.” Firetome glanced at the librarian, pursing his lips,
“Aye, but as far as I ken, nobody but the dwarves even knows that there was any left over after our own creation by Kherillim.”
“Maybe so, but it has ae been rumoured that there were a few pockets of the stuff left in most of the cultures we share this world with.” Heimlig countered smoothly, “We’ve plenty of copies of the manuscripts written by many who have tried to locate them.” King Storri sighed, letting his hands fall into his lap,
“Gentlemen, please, while I would normally be quite fascinated and happy to discuss this at length, we are currently quite pressed for time.”  He reminded his guests. He looked over to Firetome, “Given what Derek’s just told us, I fail to see why it would displease the church for the Grand Magus to ask about God Clay. From what you’ve told me thus far, it does not seem like she knows that there is any of it left for definite.” Firetome grumbled and crossed his arms across his chest,
“I got the feeling she definitely knew some existed and has come here to fish for more information about it.” he replied, “It’s likely she thinks it’s stashed somewhere in our God Vault and wants to ask the Council for access to it.” King Storri leaned forward in his seat, raising an eyebrow,
“Well, is it?” he asked. Firetome shook his head,
“While I would be the first to argue against granting the Grand Magus access to the God Vault if we did, I can tell you now, Sire, that we don’t have any here in Fangthane.” Storri frowned in confusion, looking over to Heimlig. The elderly dwarf nodded,
“The High Inquisitor has the right of it.” he said, “From what I can tell from the records held in the library, Fangthane has never held any of the remaining God Clay. Besides, even if we did, the Grand Magus wouldn’t be able to use the stuff. She needs a Shaper to do that.” King Storri grumbled as he sagged back into his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose,
“So we don’t have any God Clay here. We have any idea where any might still be located?” he asked. Firetome and Heimlig shared a look between them before the elder of the two nervously cleared his throat,
“Given that the ability to Shape came from a family that lived in the ancient Hold of Kar’ak Ugor, it’s likely that any God Clay to be found on Titan might still be in that God Vault.” Storri looked up at the librarian wearily,
“And the problem?” he asked, an imperious edge to his voice. Heimlig twirled the end of his impressive moustache,
“The hold is now known as Wyrmholme, Your Majesty.” he replied quietly, “It’s very likely that what the Grand Magus is seeking is now in the claws of an ancient red dragon and guarded by a mountain full of Duregar.”
~*~
Edwin paced around his study. He had just got word that the Fangthane Council had agreed to hear Selene out, which should have been very welcome news. So why did he feel like it was some kind of trap.
“Edwin, stop. You’re making me dizzy and I’m not even the one moving.” Selene said, stirring her tea, “Why are you getting so worked up about this?” Edwin stopped and ran a hand through his hair before looking at her,
“Aside from the fact that half the Council still wants to kick you out of the mountain and lock the door behind them, you mean?” he asked. Selene clucked her tongue,
“That’s hardly the worst thing in the world.” She stated calmly, “Besides, I get threatened with getting kicked out of Toreguarde at least once every couple of months by Chancellor Schreiber, that kind of threat isn’t anything new.” Edwin, who had resumed pacing, whipped his head around and stared at the wizard,
“I-wait. What?” he spluttered, “You haven’t actually-?” Selene held up a hand, cutting off the cleric’s tirade before it could get started,
“Of course not, Edwin.” she sighed, “It’s an empty threat on Schreiber’s part, he knows he can’t actually do it. It would upset Drakemar too much.” Edwin sent Selene a dubious look, but eventually, he nodded and relaxed his posture,
“My apologies. You’re right, your getting kicked out of Fangthane is not the worst thing in the world.” he conceded, “I just wonder what you expect to get out of this now. A lot of people have made it very clear you’re not as welcome as I’d hoped you’d be.” he pointed out. Selene gave the Abouna a thin-lipped smile,
“Because it’s the only option I have left.” she reminded him, “I very much doubt the Council will overlook the safety of all Allansia, themselves included, all for the sake of whatever grudge they’re holding about us accepting Drakemar’s help.” Edwin’s heart squeezed painfully. It wasn’t just that. He wanted so badly to explain to Selene exactly why the king and more than half the mountain distrusted her, but he couldn’t. Not without endangering them both. While the king had only outwardly threatened the Abouna’s position, Edwin knew very well that there were others in the mount who would take the opportunity to solve the problem via other methods should he give them an excuse. Instead, he settled for shaking his head and sitting heavily in his chair,
“You’re severely underestimating how angry the Council are with Toreguarde about that. And how angry the general citizenry are about the losses incurred during the Demon War. Fangthane lost about two thirds of its men because they all took up the role of Slayer and followed King Nargond to their deaths.” he explained. Selene waved her free hand in exasperation,
“We never asked them to!” she cried indignantly, “The only reason the Slayer thing even happened was because Ivan decided to show up to help with the demon thing that came out of Granny Apple despite his Banishment.” Edwin grimaced,
“While that’s true, the Demon War basically started when Old Toreguarde fell into the hellmouth, right? Once word reached Fangthane about the hows and whys…” he trailed off, trying to find the right words to explain why the people of Fangthane felt the way they currently did. He sighed, looking down at his hands, “Let’s just say that the decision to bow out of the rebuilding effort wasn’t just because Drakemar’s Emissary showed up. It just happened to be the last straw.”
Selene slowly lowered her cup back onto its saucer. While she was doing a magnificent job of repressing her immediate emotional reaction, Edwin could still see flashes of pain, regret, dismay and frustration. The woman took in a deep breath and slowly let it out, then sent Edwin a sad smile,
“Thanks for the heads up about that.” she said, “No doubt someone’s going to try throwing that in my face at some point tomorrow.” Edwin scratched the back of his neck guiltily,
“Sorry.” he mumbled, “As much as I know you’ll probably manage just fine, I didn’t want you to go in completely unprepared.” Selene’s smile brightened,
“Thank you, Edwin, you always were the most thoughtful of us. It’s not like it’s a new argument anyway. Remember how often Ivan brought up renaming the town ‘Target’?” Edwin couldn’t quite hold back his snort of laughter,
“Wasn’t it at least every other week?” he asked, “You can’t blame him, everything just kept on happening there. I’m honestly surprised we had to travel so far to deal with Karylax.” Selene chuckled,
“I don’t know what I expected when Yastromo first brought me to Toreguarde. He did tell me some stories about the goings on there, but I brushed them off as exaggerations.” she looked down at her teacup, which was now clasped in both hands, a wistful look on her face, “I should have known better. Yastromo was not a man who exaggerated.” Edwin settled into his chair, and cocked his head,
“I never got to know him very well. I’d heard of the stories of his exploits when he was a young man, but I never got a chance to speak to him very often on the rare occasions we ended up back in Toreguarde.” he said thoughtfully, “I really wouldn’t mind hearing a bit more about what he was really like.” Selene lifted her head, her face lighting up with a wide, genuine smile, looking far more like the excitable young woman Edwin remembered travelling with. His heart fluttered slightly as Selene launched into a long, rambling story about when she’d first met her mentor. She was so much prettier when she smiled like that. He’d almost forgotten the way her eyes creased just so and how much she gesticulated when she started talking about something that excited her. Edwin sighed wistfully; this is what the visit should have been, he thought. Food, drink and long stories about their lives, shared and otherwise. Well, he was going to enjoy this comfortable contentment as long as it lasted. Who knew when the next time he’d get to enjoy an old friend’s company would be?
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aquadestinyswriting · 10 months ago
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The War of the Red Hammer, the Purges and the History of the Stonespeaker Clan
Happy Worldbuilding Wednesday everyone. Since I'm going to be covering some quite unpleasant history relating to the Throffite and Moradhir communities in the Modern AU, I thought I'd go over the most relevant parts of the Fantasy history here to make sure everything makes sense. Strap in, this is going to be a bit sordid.
Tags: @druidx, @sparrow-orion-writes, @ashirisu, @thesorcerersapprentice, @blind-the-winds, @philosophika, @the-down-upside-finch
Part of the history of the War of the Redhammer has been covered in the article about Kar'ak Ungor/Wyrmholme as it related to that Hold. However, the ramifications of what happened during that war continued even long after it had ended.
The true origins of the war began when Moradin became the main patron deity of the dwarves of Fangthane over Kherillim. While Fangthane did not, at the time, prevent any worship of the Earth Mother, the dwarves of Kar'ak Ungor felt that Kherillim had been slighted by this act and forbade any of their own people from turning their worship to this Outsider deity, going so far as to insist that those who did leave the mountain and create their own community outside of it. While this clearly rankled, Fangthane maintained a cordial, if cooled, relationship with its sister hold due to the close ties of both royal families of the time, understanding that as Kherillim had Blessed that line, they had every right to disallow Moradin entry to their halls.
The Stonespeaker Clan, a family line of Shapers descended from the greater Redhammer Clan, that lived within Fangthane, were among those clans that refused to convert their worship to Moradin. This was entirely expected, and the decision was honoured by the Goldseeker family, who were happy to worship both Moradin and Kherillim in tandem with one another. Fangthane believed the matter to be settled, and life continued on as normal for some time after.
However, it wasn't long before Ladeurger, a brother deity of sorts of Moradin, a god who delighted in slavery and torture, found Titan and attempted to infiltrate and seduce Kherillim's children to take them as His own. While Fangthane was able to rebuff this deity's initial advances, Kar'ak Ungor proved not to be quite so strong. Despite their best efforts, eventually even the Royal Family of that noble people were turned from Kherillim's light and set about forcing those who remained loyal to convert.
As soon as word reached Fangthane of the situation, and they discovered infiltrators among the clans descended from those native to their sister hold, the then King ordered the discovery and execution of any open Ladeurgerites, which prompted retaliation against the Moradhir community living just outside Kar'ak Ungor by the Redhammers. Partway through the war, the king demanded that all who remained loyal to the crown convert at least part of their worship to Moradin, for fear that they might otherwise be seduced by the Enslaver. The only family who was spared from this decree were the Stonespeakers, due entirely to the Blessing bestowed upon them by Kherillim. However, even after the war ended, there were no small number of people in the other noble houses who were suspicious of this exemption. Rumours spread that the Stonespeakers, being direct descendants of the Redhammer line, were spying on Fangthane for the Enslaver and looking for the next opportunity for the evil god to gain a foothold.
While the rumours were entirely unsubstantiated, more infiltrators of the Enslaver were discovered in Fangthane during the reign of Joldrunn Goldseeker - the great-grandfather of the current Low King, Storri Goldseeker - just under 1,000 years ago. In order to expunge the threat from his kingdom, King Joldrunn ordered that all citizens of Fangthane, no matter what religion they otherwise held, immediately convert to Moradhirism or face execution.
At the time this was happening, the younger son of the king, Prince Ragnar, had recently been betrothed to the latest Shaper to be born into the Stonespeaker clan, Merewin. Merewin, and her family, assumed that -as before - they would be spared from this ridiculous decree as they were ardent followers of Kherillim and had never strayed from that path. And for at least three decades after the Purges began, they were. Until Merewin was caught wandering around the Contemplation Chamber without permission from the then Archlector. Merewin was subsequently arrested, informed that, in order to commute her sentence for Treason and Heresy that she would have to convert her worship to prove her loyalty to Fangthane. Merewin, knowing that the charges were utter nonsense, refused. Believing that her refusal confirmed the Council's suspicions that she was a secret worshipper of Ladeurger, Merewin was executed less than a week after her initial arrest, with the rest of her family arrested on the same suspicions a day later. All of them were executed within the week, thereby ending the Stonespeaker line entirely, and the Blessing of Kherillim with them.
It was not until nearly a millennium later that it was finally discovered that the Blessing lived on, when the youngest daughter of the Ironforge family was found to have, somehow, inherited the ability to Shape. Archlector Vanskleig began an investigation into where the girl's ability had come from, only for the foresight of Merewin's eldest brother, Garuld, to finally come to light with the discovery of the Stonespeaker family records hidden within the depths of the Palace's archives. When the official Ironforge family records were compared to the Stonespeaker records found in the Palace archives, it was discovered that Garuld and Magreit had adopted out their youngest son to the Ironforge family at the start of the Purges that took place during Jotunn's reign. A part of the Stonespeaker clan yet remained, and with it, the Blessing. Below is the new family tree that was drawn up to reflect this discovery, which is now considered the official record of the lineage of the current Ironforge clan:
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However, questions yet remained. The Blessing had previously only been inherited directly from the Shaper that had come before. While Ovak had certainly been related to Merewin, the fact remained that he was not a direct descendent. The matter was briefly discussed, then promptly forgotten about. All that mattered was that the Blessing endured, even if it was now found primarily within a low to middle class family.
The question, however, would be raised once more following the trial of Meredith Gruksdottir, the current carrier of the Blessing. Part of the evidence that was brought forth during the trial was the eerie similarity of her situation to that of her ancestor, Merewin. Like the Shaper before her, Meredith had been found wandering within the Contemplation Chamber without permission, and was accused of Treason against the Crown and Heresy, believed to be part of a cult responsible for bringing ruin to the Temple of Moradin within Toreguarde and helping to drive the dwarves from that city.
History seemed doomed to repeat itself until Meredith's friends brought forth evidence that was able to clear her name and prove that High Inquisitor Grimbeard was the one responsible for the atrocities he had accused Meredith of. Following the trial's conclusion, Gruksdottir's lawyer brought up some information that he had discovered while looking up the trial of the Stonespeaker clan. He handed over a book that had, purportedly, been found by Meredith in an antechamber beneath the Contemplation Chamber.
This turned out to be a diary, kept over the course of around two years, by Merewin. The diary detailed not only Merewin's thoughts and feelings about the ongoing Purges King Jotunn had commanded, but also the revelation that the child her brother had secretly adopted out had been her own son, born very much out of wedlock with the confirmation of Prince Ragnar as the father.
Questions regarding whether King Jotunn, or any other nobility, knew about this grandson, and whether that might have influenced how quickly Merewin had been executed, were quickly put on hold a mere two months after Meredith's trial. In what some might call an ironic twist of fate, the Cult of Khalin had gained an indelible foothold in the nobility that made up most of the Fangthane Council, proclaiming that, in order for Kherillim to take her rightful place as the patron deity of the dwarven people once more, the Demon Prince was the only one capable of ousting Moradin's presence from the Titan altogether. Civil war engulfed Fangthane, even as the rumblings of Ragnarok's arrival began, putting any further discussions about the legacy of the Stonespeaker Clan on hold until Ragnarok was eventually averted and peace returned to Fangthane.
Below is the condensed family tree Head Librarian Starlim Haneskeeper drafted just before the civil war kicked off:
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Currently, debates as to whether to update both the Ironforge and Goldseeker family trees to reflect the information uncovered just before the civil war are ongoing. On the one hand, the modern Ironforge clan are clearly directly descended from what would have been one of the High Noble Houses of Fangthane and deserve recognition of such. On the other, Ovak's birth would not have been recognised by the Crown at the time as Merewin and Ragnar had not yet been married. Even if the Purges had not happened, it was very likely that Ovak's birth would have been swept under the rug, and the child adopted by another family within the Stonespeaker Clan. Many argue that this still means that the modern Ironforge clan should be considered minor nobility, as the Stonespeaker clan were one of the Noble Houses before the Purges occurred.
Those nobles that survived the civil war and are a part of the current Fangthane Council, however, have pointed out that, as Ovak was adopted into and raised by a commoner family, the modern Ironforge clan do not have any cultural ties to the nobility and, as such, should maintain their current position. The only exception they have made to this rule being the current High Inquisitor due to both her position in the Church of Moradin, and her marriage to Yoruk Forhoksson (formerly of Clan Copperheart and later adopted into Clan Bloodvein, both of which are ancient noble lineages).
Gruk Ovaksson, and the others of his family have made no comment on the matter, preferring to stay out of it entirely. However, both Gruk and his younger brother Ufgi, have been hired to maintain and repair the armour, weaponry and runic enchantments of the King's Guard and the Hammers of the Moradhir Guard since the end of the civil war. It is unknown whether this is due to services rendered during the war or if this is some sort of compromise to keep everyone happy.
21 notes · View notes