Houses of Ilkaria: A Steampunk Fantasy

[Beowulf]

Buras' back straightened and his eyes widened as his name was suggested for being Lord Delegate. He was pleased to know that he had enough self control to keep his mouth from flopping open, however. Him? The Lord Delegate? "Surely there are better choices then me." Or was there? Torna had decided to turn down any nominations, those foolish enough to believe that he did not mean it wasting their votes on him. And he did not think Garrick was in the right state of mind to be Lord Delegate. Perhaps he was the right choice. "Bah, you do as you please. Your vote is wasted on me." he finally said, wiping his hands of the matter. Surprisingly, however as more votes were put forth, his name cropped up more times then he liked. And soon enough, the meeting was adjourned. Walking out on unsteady legs in a very un-Berkak manner, Buras fell into his bed with the newly acquired title of Lord Delegate.

It was a rather restless night, one haunted by the new duties that he imagined himself having and the immense strain it would put on him. When he woke up the next day, the sun had yet to even rise and only had a few tentative rays peaking over the horizon. He was tired, and his heart felt like it was bouncing in between his throat and his feet. He needed to relax. And the best way he knew to do that was to work in his forge. He had to melt down that axe head anyways, and now was as good a time as any.

The axe head was just turning orange when he heard a faint voice. "Yes? I am by the forge, come closer so I can hear you proper." he shouted. Upon seeing that it was the Ferregard Magana, a small smile just turned the corners of his mouth up. He was wearing a dark colored shirt, sleeves rolled up to his shoulders, and trousers of similar color. Leather gloves covered his hands, and the leather apron of a blacksmith covered his front, his beard neatly tucked in to keep it away from any stray sparks and embers. "Ah, Magana. Welcome. What brings you to the forge?"

 

[Aragon]

The Arbiter looked softly at Renn, and nodded and said, "Examine me if you wish, healer. I will not stop you. However, I will be taking this up with my... kin... because they failed me in that respect." He said gently, "When we are alone, or in trusted company like Garrick, my name is Mikael. You should have that privilege." He gasped as the still sensitive point of attack was touched. "It doesn't hurt, but the skin feels like there is more sensation there than should be."

He could not help noticing the smell of the male that examined him. There was something highly alluring about this Aedairin, and he wanted it, but he knew he could not take what was not his.

 

[Aragon]

The Valena had a different way of going about things. They were of the opinion that leadership was actually not given, but shown and earned. The designated head of the delegation, one known as General Feolis, said to the gathered Valena. "My kin. I, for one, am glad of this opportunity to have peace. I do not want a place of power, but I do have an idea of sorts. There is a young Valena maid that has not taken the cue to come to this meeting, because she has created an alliance with the Berkak known as Garrick. I see no issue with this, and will support her. I actually wish to nominate her, but I understand that your wish will be followed. I will follow the wishes of this delegation." He sat back, and waited on people to speak their piece.

After a long while, it was clear what the delegation wanted. Feolis would be Lord Delegate, and Aylina Rosebud as second in command, and ambassador to the Arbiter. It was necessary, the delegation believed, to have a person next to the Arbiter that could be trusted. Aylina would act as the Arbiter's voice to the Valena people. Feolis stood, and said, "Very well. I accept your nominations. Shall the ancients approve of your selection, I swear on my life to fulfill my duties to all races in Ilkaria." He turned, and silently walked to his quarters. Tomorrow will be...interesting... to say the least, he thought with a slight smile.

 

[Aragon]

The meeting with his people done, Torna went to bed, not wanting to speak further till morning. He knew without a single doubt that tomorrow would be trying at best, and he wanted nothing more than rest for now.

As much as he wanted to rest, it was clear he would receive little. His mind was filled with what he saw of the war, dead bodies of every race, spirits leaving those bodies, and breaking families into shattered remains. It was hard to clear his mind, but after a few hours lying there, he did so, allowing himself a bit of rest.

@Altrex

 

[Altrex]

Quiet sounds filled Edwin's ears. The soft rustle of paper, the small crackle of an open flame, then gentle voice of a Jabari.... The gentle voice of a Jabari?

Back among the Laren delegation a yelling match almost immediately broke out, "I thought he was going to be easy to control! He never pulled these kinds of stunts when he was adopted into the noble family. What should we do?"

The General Rockwall Admark sat with his fingers crossed listening to the few nobles before him argue. Another point some had made was Edwin's disappearance from the Laren lodgings, the General guessed he was back on the airship. It was odd, all this time he'd never really known Mr. Ames. The man rarely entered the General's radar but now it seemed that aspects of the man's personality were falling into place.

"Quiet." Rockwall's deep voice resonated throughout the room, "We will nominate him as our Lord Delegate. Not only for the reasons he was invited to join our exclusive group but for the traits he has displayed today." The General rose to his feet. "He took action without deliberation. Edwin never doesn't want power, that much we know from how he acts back home. He's only ever acted in our Nation's best interest when dealing with our allies. I trust the young man." Sitting back down the General went back to thinking with clasped hands. There were many other reasons for the nomination as well, but those were already known to the delegation, or at least they should be.

With a closed book in hand the Laren once again walked to the entrance of his Zeppelin. A swift look of surprise played out across his face at the sit of the Jabari before him. "Can I help you Future Lord Delegate?" He asked with a bow, "Perhaps I can invite you inside so we my expose philosophy to each other."

 

[PoetLore]

Renn nodded and moved behind him to examine the healing wound. "That is understandable," he said, "The skin there is working hard to finish the healing process I began, so until that is complete, the area will be a bit sensitive."

He moved back to stand before him, "I am not sure I understand you," he admitted, "Failed you in what way?" he asked curious, "I have never seen anyone live when an anti-clotting spell was attached to a blade. even my considerable healing skills cannot usually save someone thus afflicted. They gave you exceptional spell fighting ability it would seem, though the damage was quite severe. "I am afraid you are going to have another scar to add to your current collection." He smile was genuine and sincere then, "It will be a badge of honor, I would think," he said with a raised brow, "Only those who try to bring about great change are the targets of such acts of cowardice.

He gave the man's other words a bit of consideration, "If it is your desire," he began, "Then I shall address you as Mikael. I am most generally referred to as healer, but I am Renn to anyone who might care to know me beyond that role." Not many ever had, in fact, he could count them upon one hand. He was used to being very alone, and that usually suited him. It freed him to be completely available whenever he was needed, but recently his life had become hollow. The war had just stretched on and on, and he felt his efforts were to no avail. People died as fast as he could heal, and it seemed fewer and fewer were left to heal.

"You need to rest this night, Mikael," he said with a soft smile, "I will see you at breakfast, I imagine." he bowed slightly and made his way to the door, "Rest well, Mikael. And good night."

 

[PoetLore]

Kylessa waited patiently for the Laren to appear. She saw the book in his hand and while she was wondering what he might be reading, she did not ask. She did however smile, and as before it transformed her into a much younger appearing version of herself, and added greatly to her beauty. It was an honest smile, that reached her eyes and lightened her features. She was obviously not burdened by the distress that she was feeling at dinner.

"Your ambitions for myself far exceed my own," she said with a soft chuckle. She looked into the airship and noted that it was very much like the one the Jabari had traveled in to the palace. "I am not entirely certain our views of philosophy would produce a civil conversation, but I dare say it would be an interesting discourse."

"I thought I should make known to you our decision concerning your recommendation." She said forthrightly. "And to explain something, if you would indulge me in the telling of it." She waited to see if he would actually invite her inside or if he preferred to remain as they were. She had already learned not to presume what he was thinking, or meaning. So instead she waited and watched him, cautious and curious to see what his reply might be.

 

[PoetLore]

Garrick nodded at her agreement to explore tomorrow, and he found he was already looking forward to it. "I am sorry to hear that your father finds himself trapped in the past. I understand how dark a place that can be," he said as he held out his arm to her, "May I escort you back to your quarters then?" he asked with a gentlemanly smile and bow of his head, "I have been trying to make amends for my part in the war starting for the entire thirty years the war has been ongoing," he said honestly. "I have built temples to the ancients in every nation, and I ahve given aid where I could. People were and are wary of accepting help from me, because they fear my motives. I cannot blame them for their distrust."

He'd long ago realized that what people knew about him, and what was true were two different things. The tales of how the war started had grown, expanded, and become so distorted that people spoke as fact things that are so far from the actual truth that even he could not believe it at times. His own wife had believed many of them, and that had been a hard pill to swallow. The hardest one actually.

"I thank you for your kind sentiments though Aylina," he said honestly, "I am humbled and grateful to find anyone with such thoughts regarding me." He didn't feel he deserved her favor or good opinion, but he was glad to have it. He hoped they could become friends. Her smile made his heart feel light and hopeful. Something he had not felt in a very long time.

@Maggie

 

[Maggie]

Aylina smiled at Garrick, though sadness lingered in her own eyes. "Yes, the past can be truly our worst enemies..but there's always hope to make amends. I'd love for you to escort me to my room... I'm not even sure where it is, I headed straight to the Arbiter after I got here." She admitted. She didn't have much with her; just a pale blue duffel bag, a back pack on her shoulders, and her weapons-belt. She had been trained to travel light, and it had always proved the most convenient way. She studied Garrick thoughtfully. Knowing more about him put her at greater ease. He was noble, kind and far more careful than he'd ever been. It bothered her, the rumors that were sometimes whispered when she was being unnoticed in her home- by maids and staff alike; how her mother had been very unusual. But those were thoughts for later, not now. She followed Garrick back out of the passageway, looking forward to a more thorough exploration the next day.

 

[PoetLore]

Magana heard Buras deeper in the forge and stepped closer and smiled when she saw him. he looked at home in this place, just as she'd suspected he would. he asked why she'd come and she huffed out a breath of frustration, "Will it surprise you to know I am disappointed in the Ferregard and have paced my room all night because of it?" she asked, "Or that I was hoping to find opportunity to pound the daylights out of something as a form of productive venting of those feelings?"

She was pacing as she spoke, though she didn't realize it. Her hands flew out from her sides and then fell fisted to rest at her thighs. Her angst was apparent in the vivid body language, "They ahve chosen to elect the vilest fool among us...to what end?' she asked, "He has the intellect of a warthog and even that may be insulting to the warthog."

She dragged a hand through ehr hair and turned back to face him, "Forgive me friend Buras," she said, "Obviously I needed to get that off my chest. I should not be so presumptuous ..." She sighed, "I actually DID come to see if you had time to test my affinity for your work, but I may not be of the proper frame of mind at present. I shall leave that up to you..."

@Beowulf

 

[Beowulf]

"The only thing I have ready for you to pound the daylights out of wouldn't even bat an eye." He was referring to the axe head, which was being held in a crucible so it didn't melt on the inside of the forge. "But sometimes passion leads rise to the best work. The only thing I won't allow is a weapon, to easy, and you can't use the metal that made that axe head. Everything else you can use including my tools. I'll just be needing the tongs once the enchanted iron melts." And with a broad sweep of his arms, he takes a small step back to get out of her way and leaves her to it.

As he waited for the enchanted iron to melt and tended to the furnace to keep it's temperature, he wondered how she would interpret what he meant by using everything else. Would she limit it to the tools and metals like what most others would? Or would she look into it more and take it more literally and ask for his assistance when she needs it. He'd be surprised if she did the latter of the two, most people weren't that cunning. Politicians and generals included.

 

[Aragon]

The Arbiter watched as Renn left his presence, then he went to bed. He fell into his meditative sleep rather easily, and in that sleep, he used his power to contact his kin, the ancients. He berated them for leaving him able to be attacked by a murderous assassin, by making him immortal yet vulnerable. His rant was long and vicious, insuring that they understood their mistake of failing to protect him when placing him in a body. The Ancients responded by making it impossible for further breaking of the skin.

The morning came, and he woke at his usual time. He cleaned up, dressed, and began to prepare the devices that would decide worthiness. The first was a simple silver band, which would glow green if the Ancients' Magic approved of the candidate for lord Delegate, and red, if the the person was rejected. The second was a more ornate Diadem that would be used on the accepted Delegate to choose an emperor, and the same colors would appear for the same reasons inside a clear jewel. Once the crowns were prepared, they were placed in a wooden box, then carried to his seat at the table, where they would breakfast, then begin the process.

 

[Aragon]

General Feolis had a fitful sleep. He woke before sunrise, and exercised, then cleaned up and dressed for breakfast. He then took a walk about the grounds to be alone for a long while, before breakfast. He caught site of the Arbiter, who appeared to be a bit better than last evening. He also noticed the odd box on the table in front of the Elf-like Ancient, and wondered what in the name of the Ancestors the box was for.

 

[Aragon]

Torna woke half an hour before breakfast, and cleaned up quickly, in order not to be late. There was much to do, he knew, and he hated being tardy. He was ready in half the time, and seated, waiting on the others.

He thought through the happenings of last evening, including the nomination of Buras. The forgemaster was a great man, in Torna's opinion, and he knew the Berkak would rule fairly, and most of the attendees agreed.

@Altrex

 

[PoetLore]

Renn Slept well, as he normally did. He chose his more casual attire for the next day's activities. He had not been chhosen as the Lord of the Aedairin, and for that he was beyond grateful. He had absolutely no political aspirations, and if his dreams were to be trusted, he woud not be leaving the Arbiter's side any time soon. There was much to do though, and he knew those matters would not be attended to before the more pressing concerns of the new King, and the forming of the joint government.

He made his way to breakfast greeting anyone he encountered cordially, but not in a manner that would encourage them to engage him in conversation. He sat where he'd sat the noght before, next to the Arbiter and nodded, "Good morning," he said and looked him over with a critical healer's eye, "Did you rest well?"

 

[PoetLore]

Garrick rose early and was ridiculously excited for the day to get progressing. He knew there was much that had to be accomplished before he could lead Aylina around the palace, but he was already through it all and onto the more pleasant time of his day plans. He was just entering the dining area and saw the Arbiter seated with the boxes, "Are these the ancient atrifacts?" he asked, "I am curious to see who is accepted and who is rejected." He said honestly.

He sat down and leaned over, "You were aware that the Jabari sent people away last night, weren't you?"

He was trying to stay focused but he his eyes kept scanning the room for Aylina. He wanted to invite her to sit with him, and intended to do so as soon as he caught sight of her.

@Maggie

 

[Altrex]

A wide grin spread across the Laren's face, "You should count yourself fortunate, that means other think more of you than even yourself." Turning Edwin waved Kylessa inside, "Please come on in if you want to talk. I promise to keep the conversation relatively civil."

Pulling up a chair inside of a small sitting room he offered the Jabari a seat, "I appreciate such an on hands approach to matters." Edwin took a seat across from her crossing his legs. "Pray tell what did you people decide? Will they be snubbing my metaphorical handshake?" The last line was said in a half jesting tone meant to soften the conversation. Without allowing a response to though questions he continued to address all of her words, "I promise to keep an open ear to anyone who approaches me with words instead of weapons, though the former are far deadlier. Please explain away."

He gestured to Kylessa with an open hand offering her a turn to speak what she wanted, attentively listening while softly tapping on the closed book in his hand.

@PoetLore

 

[PoetLore]

Kylessa followed Edwin into the airship and took a seat opposite him where he indicated. Like him, she crossed her legs in a practiced grace that was indicative of her race. "I shall indeed consider myself so," she said honestly, "Though I cannot say I had any aspirations for myself upon arriving here, I assure you I have no intention of backing away from any call that will help me to advance the cause of the Jabari."

She rested her hands elegantly upon her knees and calmly regarded him, "The Jabari have decided to take your recommendation," she informed him, "They have removed my father as a delegate and elevated me to his position." she spoke without much emotion and with her gaze always locked with his. "My mother chose to leave with my father but I obviously chose to stay."

She drew in a breath and looked down at her hnads for a moment before lifting thos blue eyes back to him, "You may or may not have noticed that my father tends to use force to garner compliance with his will.." she said then though not with that same level of detachment she'd spoken with before. "I want you to know that his behavior is not indicative of alal Jabari," she said and her gze returned to her hands which she was noticing were showing signs of bruising from her father's hands there. "I know our people have been long and hard enemies," she said then as her eyes lifted again, "But our family units are usually loving and supportive...I would wish you not to judge us all by my father's faults." Her eyes searched his face for a sign of his reaction to her words.

 

[PoetLore]

Magana smiled when Buras moved aside for her to have access to his forge nd tools. "No weapon," she repeated and looked around. She moved to the tools and to the metals taking her time to examine things and pick up various pieces of ore. Some were MUCH heavier than others and she tipped her head as she weighed the differences in her hands. She put a heavier bit of ore on the anvil and then reached for the tongs. She held the ore in the fire until it started to glow. She pulled it back and looked over at Buras, "Will my armor protect me if I strike this?" she asked, "Or should I use a shield like yours?"

She glanced around the room and saw another apron or leather and gave him a crooked kind of smile, "Maybe I will just use that one.." she said as she donned it and tied it behind her. She grabbed a large hanner and holding the hot metal with the tongs she hammered it with the hammer. It changed shape slightly but the recoil it produced on her arm was a LOT more than she expected, "This requires great strength," she noted and turned the tongs over and hit the metal on that side too. She noticed the metal didn't givre as much and she tipped her head and considered it for a moment. Noticing that it had lost a bit of the glow, she put the metal back into the fire. She looked over at Buras then, "Strength and patience.." She said with a lifted brow and shrug. She wasn't lacking either.

She glanced over at Buras then, "I am going to attempt to make a hook for hanging a coat on," she told him, "I think I will be able to figure out how to make the curved part," she said, "But....when it comes time to create the manner of hanging it from the catle wall...I am not at all sure which tool I need or what manner of fastener would be required to attach it to the stone wall."

She returned her gaze to the ore and seeing it was once again glowing, "she began to hammer and reheat the piece until she had a hook she was pleased with. It had a shall ball on the end of the hook to help keep a garment on the hook. She looked at it critically and then looked at the tools. She frowned, "What now?"

@Beowulf

 

[Beowulf]

"Well if you want to put it on a wall then there are two ways to go about doing it. The first one you have to punch a hole in the hanger. Move aside let me show you." he said, shooing her out of his way as he took the tongs and shoved the crude hanger into the furnace to heat. Once it glowed almost white he took it back out and set it on the anvil's face. "I use the nail to set a mark for the chisel, that way I know I have the right size. Some smiths can just eye ball it but I'd rather not risk it." As he spoke, his hands moved smoothly and quickly, knowing that the hammer, nail, and chisel were where they were supposed to be. He tapped the nail slightly, denting the hot metal by a hair, before switching it out for the chisel and driving it through. The metal had lost barely any of it's glow, he worked so quickly. "And if you want this to all be one piece then you'd stick the nail in, throw the lot into the furnace, and hot weld them together once they reached the same temperature. Or you could leave it as it is now and add the nail later. The other thing you could have done was hot weld a band across the top of it, shaping it so it bent half way around the hanger but leaving enough to either side to poke holes in. Other then that, quench it and set it to one side to cool. Oh, the iron's melted."

He left the hanger, now with a hole in it, on the anvil as he made his way to the melted iron. "Dig a hole for me, I'll have this buried right here and be done with it. Make sure it's nice and deep. If your hand can touch the bottom then it isn't deep enough. There should be a spade or a shovel around here somewhere." Grabbing a pair of tongs, he grabs the crucible and looks over to see if the hole had been dug. And once it was, he hurried over, muttering "back, back, back," the whole while, and dumped the contents of the crucible in the hole. Even though the metal had been liquid, not a drop remained in the crucible. And he pointed this out. "And not a drop remains. It's because of that never breaking enchantment on it, it all sticks together no matter how hard you try. Alright now cover it up and we'll be done with it."