high in the halls of the kings who are gone

Athras

POSTED: Sun Jan 05, 2020 2:05 am

He wandered the forest alone, eager to find the hidden trail that would lead him toward Athras Eryns tree house. The King and Lord Regent spent little time together save for the occasional meeting or conversation in the City Square; Iomair found that the man was enigmatic and proved difficult to find. He spent much of his time outside of the main living space of the realm, his living quarters carefully propped up between some of the territory’s largest trees.

The King had left Vodeva in their tiny room – carefully wrapped and bundled in layers of furs and terry cloth.

”Athras!” He called, adjusting the sway of his cloak as he came over a final ridge. ”Lord Regent-“

”You’re close.” Alistair was grinning at him, that head of curly auburn hair marking him clear as day. He smelt like carpentry and wood chips, and Iomair couldn’t help but immediately be put at ease under the man’s charming expression. ”Works almost done, it’s a proper work of art!” Iomair grinned, padding further forward to take in the view that lay just behind the ex-Sol of Casa di Cavalieri.

The tree house was simple in its size, but there were marks of the ornate in its corners.

Iomair stood for a moment before whistling lowly, ”It’s good work-”

”-Great work.”

”Yes, I’m sorry. Great work.” Iomair laughed as he made for the Lord Regents door.

Iomair

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Amanda
Maintenance Aide (I GOT THAT BROOM BROOM BROOM) Luperci Tinker I

POSTED: Wed Jan 15, 2020 4:22 pm

(529)

we can assume this happens after SL folks have settled with a few hours to go before the ball

New enough to still smell of shaved wood the Eryn’s treehouse was a marvel of luperci skill. Shaped by experienced hands it had an air that could not be captured by a novice’s hands, with enough flair to seem obvious even to an untrained eye. Though made with human concepts and architecture, the Lord Eryn had provided the carpenter with enough input and stipulations to ensure that it reflected the dwelling places of his forebears however subtle. He was a woodcarver, himself, but no carpenter his talents lie in carving idols and utensils out of fallen wood. So his help was trifling, but lent itself to the decor quite well. Of course that was a matter of opinion as divides lingered even here and one clan’s designs were not the same as another's.

As both men approached a speckled stallion lifted his head. Dwelling beneath the main structure Hasufel had been provided his own niche: a partially enclosed shelter that was enough to shield him from the worst weather while making his access a thing of ease. He could be readied and mounted in short order for both horse and master were creatures of great speed and dexterity. He snorted in greeting, familiar— at least in passing— to the two figures that stopped to admire his master’s lodging.

Dark velvet ears hearkened to the voices below him, the incessant babble of the elderly knight coupled with the King’s gruff rumble. The latter of which caused him to quirk his brow. Iomair had never sought him out, at least not directly. He didn’t even think the man knew where he lived. But it would seem he’d figured it out. Oh joy. Athras did not let the sigh he felt drop from his lips and instead placed the idol he’d been carving upon the surface of a built-in desk.

It was a craft of great detail and the lord had been busily adding more and more. Still, it didn’t feel like enough. It had to be perfect, fit for a queen.

Reluctantly, he removed himself from the bench, ears twitching at the sound of footfalls on the stairs. Funny, he didn’t remember inviting the King up. Were they really that familiar? First name basis? It was harder this time to swallow the sound of his displeasure.

Athras opened the door before Iomair could emerge before it, ignoring the carpenter as he went about his work. Alistair tended to a minor detail below the home in a much improved mood now that Iomair had arrived to ease the tension of Athras’s looming presence. How predictable that one king would flock to another, men of similar background and profession: soldiers and craftsmen. It did little to improve his mood. “Your Grace.” Strands of long silken hair slipped down his slight shoulders as he inclined his head, his expression schooled into feigned delighted surprise and reverence. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” The dark decadence of his voice was a little stiff, owing to his unfavorable mood that Iomair's disadvantageous timing had placed him in. It failed to bleed into his expression, however, and he was genuinely curious as to his sovereign's purpose.

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The Lord-Regent
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Stormie
Luperci Priest I, Diplomat I, Rogue I
you'll be mine

POSTED: Sun Jan 26, 2020 6:06 pm

Iomair raised a hand to gently feel the edge of some of the work Alistair had done on the carvings that littered the edges of Athras’ tree house. As the man leaned over a nearby railing to greet him Iomair was caught up in how this scene reminded him so much of the old land that they had left behind. Athra’s hair hung silkily over his shoulders, the shine of it catching whatever sunlight managed to peek out from beneath the cloud covered sky. His robes were reminiscent of Taur splendor, and Iomair bowed his head gently as he spoke, ”I thought I would come see your new home.”

He gestured to the man who continud his work, ”He’s done quite well.”

Iomair cleared his throat, ”I also thought we could discuss the Salsolan delegation – they brought us much more than I assumed they would.”

The horses had been presented by a pale man with a wolfish face, and Iomair had inspected each of them – patting necks and checking hooves as the man explained each of the animals histories and training. He hadn’t expected for their wagon to come laden with so many goods, but now that it was all packed away and the remainder of the realm prepared for the call to court it left the King and his Lord Regent time to discuss their next move. The Queen had not come with her people, and Iomair wondered what it was that had her remaining behind.

”Vodeva is at the Bastion ensuring that it is ready for tomorrow.”

:D

Iomair

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Amanda
Maintenance Aide (I GOT THAT BROOM BROOM BROOM) Luperci Tinker I

POSTED: Tue Feb 11, 2020 4:19 pm

(377)

The Lord played off his King’s reasoning lightly. “Unannounced?” He teased, the Half-Shadow’s smile mild with mirth, though the eyes were sharper. Cunning. “And if I were indisposed?” The dark russet of his robes gently brushed the floor as he entered the dim interior, assuming the King would follow. “I think only of you, Your Grace. Some things are, after all, private affairs.” He so loved to entertain, it wasn’t an unlikely concern. Some of the best battles were often fought in the bedroom, as Iomair would know.

“With proper guidance, yes. He has.” The carpenter was no friend of his and Athras did little to hide it. He dismissed the subject with cool assertion. They weren’t about to discuss Alistair.

The carpenter seemed to be feeling quite the same and dismissed himself without preamble. “I think I’m about finished, if you’ll excuse me.” Athras waved him off without a second thought, feeling decidedly more at ease now that he had the King to himself.

He guided Iomair to one of a few carved benches, gliding past the tree hollow shrine where Nanin’s carved wooden eyes seemed to follow malevolently. The hollow had a distinct aroma of moss and loam, cracked bone and something far more distinct: copper. Athras did little to draw his King’s gaze to the crimson stain that accompanied fresh offerings.

He settled into a seat at his desk and from there he watched His Majesty with great interest. “Did you doubt my capabilities?” He asked, canting his head ever so slightly. The druid’s eyes were bright in the dimly lit space, alive in their clay and shadow mask. “I, we.” He assented averting his eyes briefly. “Entreated them for aid and they agreed, and now you complain that it was more than you anticipated?” His hands were in his lap he leaned forward slightly, curious. “Pray tell, what were you expecting?

Had age perhaps dulled the King’s memory? Did he not remember the scent of the rippling sea as they stood on sandy shore: the darkling queen’s cardinal stare as they discussed terms and made arrangements. Should they be perplexed their benefactors held up their end of the bargain?

At mention of Vodeva Athras’s expression became curious indeed. “And how is Her Majesty?”

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Stormie
Luperci Priest I, Diplomat I, Rogue I
you'll be mine

POSTED: Sun Feb 16, 2020 2:20 am

Iomair sat patiently as Athras spoke, listening as he always did with a face that did not waiver from its empathetic expression. The Eryn boy had been chosen for his noble blood – blood the was as old as the practices that decorated his shrine. He had proven to have a silver tongue, one that the Salsolan Queen had been eager to listen to – and in their recruitment many had flocked to their rank after speaking with their Lord Regent.

“I, we.”

Iomair cleared his throat and tipped his head, ”With my blessing.”

”You are mistaken Lord Eryn, for I am not complaining.” Iomair straightened in his chair to regard Athras fully, ”We would do well to be wary – there is far more here than what was bargained for on that distant shore.” He thought of the errant merchant daughter, Antiope, who had turned out to be none other than Clementine Salcedo – a diplomat from their benefactors Kingdom.

They had brought horses, chickens, spices, blankets and more. All good items that would see them through to the spring.

Her words had rung like a warning to him, and he would be loath to ignore it.

”I expected a favor and not a debt.”

Alistair left them, and Iomair watched him go quietly.

"Her side still aches. The cold does not help her any."

:D

Iomair

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New Caledonia
The High King
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Amanda
Maintenance Aide (I GOT THAT BROOM BROOM BROOM) Luperci Tinker I

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