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Post by Velaeri on Jan 27, 2017 0:50:26 GMT
Ashdell
Some approximate time following the Ashdell delegation of halflings and Mage to the ruins of Voek Kai and the following journey to and meeting with the Foard of Maesters in Elbion.
"Don't shoot, gentlemen, stay your arrows."
If he had arrived by anything other than what he had it was certain that Ignatius Percival Osric would not have had a band of threatened Ashdell bowmen staring him down with the drawn and pointed ends of their weapons. The day was overcast, sun had been sparse. A slight chill breeze had blown in from the north.
Ignatius sat within a massive wooden basket the likes of which appeared similar in make to the cubby of a carriage, save for the roundness. The old man hung over the edge waving a large parchment flyer as he slowly descended towards the ground from the very thing keeping him aloft: a gigantic golden gryphon beating her wings three stories above.
"I come at the call of your King for aide of the magical kind. I have his summons, taken from the Crier posts of Elbion."
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Post by Mirielle Merlon on Jan 28, 2017 13:22:34 GMT
VelaeriCertain parties in Ashdell's decision-making echelons knew of this gryphon, or one like it, and would have looked askance at the overzealous archers. Then again, perhaps zeal wasn't their mistake. One didn't last long near the enchanted forest without developing a healthy fear of the unknown. Fortunately, even beneath the low overcast sky, sightlines in Coalhurst were pretty decent. For northern Ardell, Coalhurst was about as large as a settlement tended to get. The Free Cities -- Perona, Macharia, Nhinemarq, Elbion -- would have considered it an appendage or a good-sized neighbourhood. When Pakellan had dominated the region, Ashdell had been a sort of near frontier, a minor province carved out of an unaccommodating region. All that to say: it didn’t take long for one of the right people to notice the gryphon and arrive. “Well met, Maester of Elbion” said a somewhat dumpy-looking man with a short beard, passing through the archers without regard to their weapons. He peered up at the gryphon. “And you, friend gryphon. Stay your arrows, gentlemen -- these are guests.” He reached over the rim of the basket to shake Ignatius’ hand. “And welcome ones. I’m Adalric.” His Majesty Adalric the Sixth, to be precise.
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Post by Velaeri on Jan 29, 2017 19:55:04 GMT
Ignatius took the man's hand with his own set of aged and bony hands and gave pause as the man introduce himself, "Your Majesty, it is a great honor." He bowed into their exchanged. There came a pleasant chuckle after, Ignatius patting the King's hand as he loosed himself and moved to undo the the woven door of the aircarriage to step out.
"I am Ignatius Percival Osric, Honorary Fifth Order, of the Foard of Maesters. I have come..." the old man made a thoughtful sound, unrolling the parchment scroll once more to peer at it, "mmm, yes, to answer for urgent needs."
Sshhooop. The parchment rolled back up. Ignatius turned to fish a cane bearing a hand-engraved likeness of a gilded gryphon's head at the handle, as well a leather case, "My friend may also be of service, though she is a bit glib of tongue."
FWOOOOSH
The ground rumbled as the great Gryphon landed by the basket. Iggy's hair fluttered in the billowing wind of her wings.
"Now how can I be of service?" he offered the King amiably.
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Post by Mirielle Merlon on Jan 29, 2017 23:18:02 GMT
"A Maester of the Fifth Order? How utterly capital!" His Majesty's eyebrows climbed his forehead rapidly. "Ideal, in fact. And you, noble gryphon -- I've read accounts of your actions at Hallenrul and Castle Ethenveld. Mobs of undead dispersed! A dragon repelled in aerial combat, in defense of a dwarven flying boat! All very impressive. You should know that you made an impression on my youngest daughter, Mirielle, when you saved her life on that flying vessel. You should know, too, that this is the very last time that Ashdeller archers will train their bows on you."
He said it without judgment, but the bowmen shuffled their feet nonetheless. The king was, by all accounts, toothless, but his ceremonial and symbolic status let him say such things and occasionally get results. His attention returned to Ignatius.
"Maester Ignatius," he said quietly, stepping closer to both the wizard and the gryphon, "I'm given to understand that my emissaries to the ruin of Voek Kal took refuge in Elbion and struck a deal with a Maester. My people unearthed a Precursor spell on a door that prevented the undead from passing through. The hope is that your arts can transform the principles of the relic into some mechanism for keeping undead, particularly vampires, out of this city and the rest of Ashdell."
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Post by Velaeri on Jan 30, 2017 1:16:10 GMT
Ignatius watched the Gryphon who watched the King as he said his words. Feathers properly ruffled at the barrage of compliments, she took them with great pride of her status and a soft keening. She swished her tail sharply at a nearby archer and reshuffled her wings.
The old man chuckled and stuck his cane in the ground to begin shuffling along as the King lead the way, Gryphon calmly taking up the rear, "I must be frank, Majesty, my position within the Foard is honorary having retired from my position within the College thirty years ago. My days are filled with selling books and trinkets from my shop in the Merchant District. But," Ignatius raised a puffy white brow, "they are hard pressed to tell me no. I happened to be present in the college at the time of your emissaries arrival. I have seen and studied these relics you speak of. I think there is something to glean from the old magics to help your Kingdom yet, but you must understand that keeping the undead locked in containment is one thing; keeping them out of open realm quite another."
Haaaawww, said the Gryphon at their back.
"Indeed, friend, that doorway was a singular point of through, Ashdell has broad-spanning boarders in an untamed realm. Have you charts, Majesty...maps for us to review?"
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Post by Mirielle Merlon on Jan 30, 2017 1:44:49 GMT
Adalric's eyes brightened. “Oh, I most certainly do, Maester Ignatius.”
As previously noted, Coalhurst was not an especially large city. A brief walk took them to a modest but formal estate house in the city's heart, not far from the much grander Guildhalls. He'd sent a runner ahead. Refreshments and a huge box labeled 'maps - special request’ awaited them in the terraced backyard, whose ground would withstand the gryphon’s mass.
Adalric unrolled one map on the lawn table and weighed down its corners. “You'll have to tour my map room,” he said absently. “It's a localized but comprehensive collection, and it's growing rapidly. This is Ashdell; the Twistheart River, flowing east to west; two walled cities at the centre, near or on the river; four large walled towns around them; and a perimeter circle of seven towers, four north of the river and three to the south. Major vampiric threats are northwest, north, northeast, east,and south.”
He stepped back and folded his arms, letting Ignatius get a better view of the map. “Understand that my expectations are moderated. If the only practical solution is to place, say, repelling gates at the entrances of the towers and walled settlements…”
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