In the ArchMage's Chambers

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"do not fret over the King's actions. It took us all by surprise. It does not come as much as a surprise to me that the Gypsy Witch's concoction did not work as intended." he pauses, "Now let me see that letter. Then you best be off if you are to make it to Faybridge before the Festival starts. I'd suggest looking into a horse, they are much faster than walking."

He waits briefly then asks "Is there anything else you need?"
 
No, that is all, thank you Arch Mage. I take my leave and will see you in Faybridge I presume. Garridan turns and leaves the room.
 
Upon breaking the seal Az'caine reads,

To His Royal Highness King Ulric or in his stead Lord Az'caine, Archmage .

Your Highness,
I hope this message sees you well and in a fit state of mind. I have entrusted its scribing and delivery to your man and my brother-in-arms, Garridan.

I seek an audience with Your Highness or your representatives to discuss the formation of a company of fighting men and women. The warriors of your outpost at Parson's Breach lack both organization and direction and I hope to bring a sense of both to at least some of the warriors stationed there.

I shall be in Calenhelm shortly after you receive this and I may be summoned from the Ogre's Head Tavern at your convenience.

Your loyal squire,
Hamish ap Timmet, Weaponmaster of Clan Maculloch and Defender of Parson's Breach
 
After carefully reading over the letter the ArchMage calls for an attendant as he begins to write his thoughts on the matter. The attendant appears that the door and knocks softly. "Fetch me Colonel Dunbow. Immediately." the old man grumbles partially to the attendant and partially to the open air.

Without another word or question the attendant makes his way down the stairs and out into the city streets. His first stop to the the Home Guard headquarters where the Colonel can usually be found.
 
Ascending the stairs, the Colonel announces himself. "You sent for me ArcheMage?'
 
"Ah yes, Colonel. Please, enter the Ward... and close the door behind you. I have received a very interesting letter from a squire at the Breach that we need to discuss."

sent to nefarious PLOT meeting...
 
"Fine then." the ArchMage states to the Colonel. "we are agreed. Is there anything else Colonel?" the ArchMage asks as there is a subtle knock on the door. He moves over to it and unlatches the door to see a beaming young face staring up at him. "Yes? What is it?' he asks.

"m'lord ArchMage sire" the young lad stammers over his words. "I uhm, have this letter from the Fates lady from the Earth folks." he says, beaming with pride, not knowing the proper words apparently.

The ArchMage smiles. "My boy, she is the Lady Fatespinner of the Earth Weavers. Please make sure you address her properly, it's all about manners." he says as he takes the letter. He sees the eyes of the curious lad look about his chambers and remembers how wonderous all of this 'stuff' was to him at that age. "Maybe one day, if you study hard, this room will be yours." he says to the boy with a wink.

The childs eyes light up and he beams with pride. Without another word, or waiting to be dismissed the boy turns and bolts down the stairs.

"he did not adress you correctly ArchMage." the Colonel states.

"Well, then. If you can catch him, you can scold him." the ArchMage quips. He turns and makes his way to his desk, pulls open the letter opener adorned with several small gemstones that glow and blink then fade as he passses it over the letter. After he is satisfied that the blade has removed any magics on the letter, he opens it and begins to read. His mood changes almost immediatley. His face shows concern and flashes with anger.

The change does not go unnoticed by the Colonel. "Anything wrong ArchMage?"

"Plenty it seems. Find me an Earth Weaver named 'Fredrick'. Bring him to the council chambers as soon as you find him. Strip him of any items he may be carrying and bind his hands. If he offers any resistance, kill him."
 
"At once Arch'Mage, with your leave?" the Colonel gives a bow and turns and leaves.
 
January 5th, 2014

One of the portals in the ArchMage's anti-chamber glows softly, the air shimmering within its frame. Stepping through is Az'Caine, looking exhausted. He rolls his shoulders and hears the familiar sounds of bones settling back into place. He looks about the room noting that it is still dust free, clean and there is chilled wine sitting on his desk. He moves to his bed and tosses his travel cloak upon it, the dust from it puffing out. creating a small cloud of dust and sand. Desert sand. It gets everywhere and into everything he muses. He drops his pouches down beside the bed, and another small cloud of dust rises from them. It has been over a month since he has seen his chambers. Too much travelling in his advanced age.

But this trip to the Edgeland Desert with the King to see the Sultana bore very impressive results. The journey took a very roundabout route, through Faybridge, down to Domus, lands of the Biata, and then finally to the Edgeland Desert. The negotiations with the Sultana were remarkable to say the least. The King was in his best form. Negotiating, arguing, and even passive at times. He truly looked like the Noble that the ArchMage declared King so many years ago. Ulric was masterful in procuring what was needed from the Sultana without giving too much to her. If the lands of Calandonia were to be threatened by unruly neighbours to the East and South, then the Uruzaries, the mighty army of High Orcs and High Ogres under her command would come to the aide of King Ulric.

Now to send a missive to the Lady Fatespinner to let her know what had been bargained for. Her lot would play an important part in the Treaty. As would the Sanctum and the King's Guard. It will be interesting to go back to the Desert in a few years to see what this seed that was sown will grow into.

The weary ArchMage moves to his desk, takes a sip of his wine, picks up his quill and begins penning several letters.
 
January 20, 2014

The ArchMage sits at his desk, the events at the King's Masquerade weighing heavily upon his mind. The Lady Kosh, a servant of the Duke Aternous Mortis? How, Why, When? The kidnapping of the Duchess and the Senator. Perhaps if his servant had not challenged young Raidera to a champion's contest it may have saved them? Likely not. Hamish seemed to fall under the Lady's control and likely this Dark Elf servant would have suffered the same fate if he was there.

"The Dark Elves.." the ArchMage states absently, to the nothingness in his room. It seems that they are travelling more frequently within the open lands of Calandonia, to Calanda in general and The Breach and the Calanhelm in particular. Several un answered questions about them were diverting the ArchMage this day. It was settled. These irritating questions had to be answered. There was only one person who he would even bother speaking too.

The ArchMage picks up a small bell at his desk. He rings it and although there is no sound, he knows that the proper persons have been summoned to his chamber. It won't be a long wait. A few more minutes to run through the events of the night. The items brought before him, the punishments that will follow. So many tasks to follow up on. At least the Magi can deal with most of them. Some things will require his personal attention, but others can be delegated.

A soft rap on the door announces one of the attendants, this day it was Wolfgang, a Lore Seeker from some distant family in Seltaran. "My Lord ArchMage? You summoned me?"
"Yes, please enter my Ward." the ArchMage says and the young man enters the chamber. In his hand is a letter which he hands to the ArchMage. Az'Caine looks at it for a moment then back to the attendant. "Please have word sent to the Conclave-Penta in Shadowrose that I will be arriving this night. Let them know that I will see the Empress early in the morning as there are matters she needs to explain to me about several of her residents that have arrived in Calanhelm." As Wolfgang turns to leave the ArchMage dismisses him from the Ward.

He looks down at the letter and opens it. After reading though it, he sighs and shakes his head a bit. Apparently the King needs to speak to the Sherriff in more detail when he is available. None the less, Az'Caine pulls a sheet of parchment from his stack on the table and takes his quills and ink. When Wolfgang comes back he will have him take it to the Earth Weavers and Sherriff Isawda.

Within the hour, the letter is on its way and the ArchMage packs his small bag, readies his staff and steps through his portal to the Dark Elf city of Shadowrose.
 
The portal in the anti-chamber hums to life, a shimmer of blue transitioning into purple. The ArchMage steps back into his familiar surroundings. He heads to his desk, rings the silent bell and begins to unpack from his eventful trip to Shadowrose.

Soon an attendant, Catania, knocks at the door. The ArchMage looks up and just states "Find me Magi Rhialto and Magi Farr'Shen. We have much to discuss." and then goes back to his unpacking.

Yes, his trip was indeed interesting. Word of the Senator's abduction had not yet reached the ears of the Empress. She was not happy to say the least. She was even more perplexed when told of the Dark Elves that have travelled into Calanhelm.

By the time the two Magi had made it to his chambers, Az'Caine was unpacked and into clean robes. Both Magi sat in the comfy chairs in his study and waited for the ArchMage to take his seat.

"The Empress was gracious as always. Such fire behind those eyes. She has passion unmatched when it comes to her people." the ArchMage began. "I do understand their undying loyalty to her." he pauses looking to both men who have stood before her. "Our treaties with the Dark Elves ensure that they follow the dictates of our lands. This is mandatory for her to maintain her seat on the Grand Council after all. She was very distressed to hear that there are apparently scholars in her midst teaching others the ways of Earth and Celestial magic outside of the guilds." Both Magi's eyes widened a bit at this declaration. "She and her people hold Honour above all else. To hear that citizens of her small group were not abiding by the laws she agreed too made her very... unhappy. I'm sure if her face could turn flush with anger it would have. Her eyes betrayed her calm demeanour. It is not only a dishonour to those training outside the guilds, but to her as their leader. She has promised me, upon her family honour, to weed out this corruption swiftly and with severe punishments."

The ArchMage let the last part hang out there for a bit then turned his gaze directly upon Magi Farr'Shen. "We have another problem. At the masquerade a young elf lass, I believe from Valdenhold by her accent, spoke to me of giving a map to some outside party. This map needs to be recovered and we need to find out what she knows exactly of the map, the people who purchased it, and how she got her hands upon it. I believe it to be a map of the King's personal armoury in the Castle. As such, steps must be taken to ensure it is secure. Co-ordinate with the Colonel to increase security. Rhialto, go to the armoury, ensure everything is there and accounted for. Farr'Shenn, seek out this elf and bring her in to me for questioning. Her name is Derya. "

With out a further word, both Magi stood and moved to the door, knowing full well, that this had to be done immediately.
 
The walk up to the stairs is a long and arduous slog. Derya makes her way with Marshal Farr'Shen padding near silent behind her, keeping pace but not pushing her.

As Derya makes it to the top of the stairs she sees the large doors to the only chamber on this level wide open, apparently word has already reached Az'Caine that there were visitors coming. Behind the Ward Derya hears voices. One of the ArchMage and one she cannot quite place. Then she sees it. The Griffon from the Breach. Her form is Biata, with flowing white gown and long golden claws. The Griffon nods to Derya, then makes her way to the balcony. She transforms into her true form, spreads her wings and flies off into the fading sunlight, golden feathers gleaming in the final rays of the day.

"Derya, you may enter my Ward. Magi Farr'Shen, I do not think we will need your services." comes the voice of Az'Caine from around the corner of the room.
 
Derya offers a weak smile to the Griffon, a bit wide-eyed as she watches her leave. One beckoned the Elf steps into the room, casting a cocky little grin over her shoulder as Farr'Shen is dismissed. She turns her attention back to where she's headed, lips pressed together, seeking her host. "My lord."

A flutter rises in her throat and she repeats the advice she had heard earlier as a mantra in her head. "I hear you've been looking for me."
 
The ArchMage looks back from the window to the elf. "Derya, please enter my Ward and have a seat." Az'Caine states and motions to one of the two empty seats in front of his desk. He turns and seats himself behind the desk and pulls parchment, quills and other writing instruments from a drawer. After Derya sits he continues "At the Masquerade there was a flurry of activity near the end and our conversation was cut short. You mentioned a map, it had very particular notations upon it as I recall. I need to know everything about that map, how you got it and who you gave it to. Do not leave out details, any of them, no matter how insignificant you may think they are. If I think you are being untruthful, misleading or unforthcoming, remember, I have more Charms than you have resistances and I have no problem using them until I get the truth. The safety of Calanda comes before anything else, and I believe what you have stumbled into concerns that safety."

The ArchMage begins to write onto his parchment and waits for the tale from Derya.
 
Derya bites her lower lip as she sits and listens. Nervous, the Elf began to reach, a few times, for her blouse before deciding it was probably better to let the man finish talking.. Interruption would not set a good tone. The instant Az'Caine finishes speaking, however, her hand plunges down the front of her ruffled top and retrieves a folded up paper. She unfolds this, a page torn out of a journal maybe? Spreading it out on the desk, Derya leans forward. "Capt-er Lord, my Lord. This is what I drew of the map. I give you fair warning, I drew it from memory after the fact so it might not be one hundred percent spot on." The page holds a rough layout of what could be a hall with three rectangular rooms leading off to the left and a single one coming from the bottom. The top most and the two bottom most each have a strange set of symbols written inside of them. Pressing her finger to the top one, Derya says, "Now, ignore the writing, it's a personal cipher. This one said something about a king's portal. Down here." Her finger moves to the bottom bits of writing. "These both say 'Here' with a question mark, narrowing down a spot for whatever it is they're looking for but not really sure."

Now the elf sits back, lips pursed before taking a deep breath and practically blurting out her story. Her mere six decades shows. "At the tavern about..oh two..maybe two and a half months ago, a man approached me. He asked for me by name. He said he had a job for me and he had a certain flavour about him that I thought I knew." She adds, under her breath and a bit morosely, "Thought I trusted." Another quick breath and off she goes again, "So this man, he hands me a rolled up paper and I tuck that right up my sleeve, what are sleeves for after all? and he tells me it's for a dark elf man. And then he was gone, practically ran out of the place. So, no one told me not to look at it, and I'm a curious creature, comes with being a Valdenhold, yeah? So I popped off to a quiet corner and I have myself a look at the map and what I see disturbs me a bit, but I figure maybe it's going to good hands and such. I'm really out of the water here, if you pardon the turn of phrase." She barely breathes between her words, as if the thought of stopping is anathema to her purpose here. "So, I stay late into the night when that very finely dressed Ambassador comes walking in. I haven't seen another dark elf all night, so I assume this is the man I'm supposed to speak with. So I tell him, when he has a moment, I should very much like to speak with him. And we do that and I ask him if his possession of the map will harm any Breachers, because loathe as I am to admit it, I'm growing rather fond of those ruffians. And he says no so I give him the map and complain to him about how vague his messenger was and he agrees with me and then we part ways." Now she stops, looking musing as she combs her memory for anything else of note. "Before I spoke to him, he was chatting with the baby-eat....er that Dark Elf lass who joined the eartheweavers and everyone yelled at me to get along with. Uh, not sure her name, but Crow might know, he was talking with her a bit. Come to think of it Lady Zanthia might know, unless there's been an influx of dark elven earthweavers signing on of late. Aaand.. I'm pretty sure the initial messenger came from a man I met in the Breach as a trade contact. But I have absolutely zero proof of that. I guess anyone who knows my name and my interest in trading could have sent him my way." She waves a hand toward the piece of paper. "You can keep that."
 
Az'Caine's eyes widen at the scribbled drawing. Derya is almost sure that she would be taking a fast trip to the Earth Circle to resurrect when the expression on the ArchMage's face settles back into his "only slightly angry" façade. He taps his fingers upon the hard oak desk in a steady beat that seems to mesmerize Derya for a brief moment.

He rubs his chin then looks directly into her eyes, almost as if looking through her. "Derya what you have stumbled upon is a matter most dire to the kingdom. As such I have no choice but to have the Colonel use his resources to remove the memory of the map from your mind. You will likely remember everything else about the evening, the past month and even this conversation, but if you try to recall the map, you will be unable too. No creature will be able to read your thoughts about the map either. It will be completely wiped." he pauses to ensure the Elf is paying attention. "I believe you when you say that you were only a 'messenger'. I assume by Ambassador you mean Senator Gavius? If so that makes 'retrieving' him that much more important. I have no reason to set you upon the Plane of Flame or Ice as your crime is more being duped than willful, yes? " he lets that threat hang for a moment. "Is there anything else you need to tell me before I have Marshall Farr'Shen escort you to the Colonel?"
 
Derya's eyes go wide. Someone was going to mess with the inside of her head? Bugger that. Her mouth opened to protest and then came mention of the Planes. Dark eyes narrowing, the Valdenhold glowered at the Achmage, clearly trying to sort out some sort of verbal reaction. The word duped sent a flush up through her cheeks. Her jaw sets, the stubborn look of a tempest rising and she opened and then closed her mouth once more. Finally, drawing a deep breath in noisily through her nose, she speaks, her words too level, too monitored to fool anyone that she was calm. "Sir, Lord, I..I have to admit, I'm not too fond of having my head messed with, yes? I understand that -your- kingdom requires some protection but I'm real good with secrets, isn't anyone else who wasn't directly involved that knows about this. And to be real frank, the only reason I even told -you- was because I was trying to do the right thing here. Who would even have any reason to suspect a rather boisterous, terribly loud-mouthed and overly drunken Valdenhold of holding -any- secrets, let alone one this big." She paused, taking another deep breath. A chill was running along her spine and her hands were fisted so tight as to turn her knuckles white. She could feel her nails biting into her palms. "Maybe we can make some sort of trade. Maybe I can be of use to you and yours and then you don't have to go mucking around in my head, yes?"
 
The ArchMage chuckles slightly. "So let me get this straight. You are good with secrets, yet you peeked into a secret missive given to you, scribbled down the contents and then told a couple of your companions? How exactly does that prove you are good with secrets? You seem to think you are in some bargaining position. I assure you that is not the case." Az'Caine springs to his feet, slams his hands upon the desk. and leans over it, fire burning in his eyes. His voice rises in volume to match his very dire expression. "Exactly, to whom did you share this secret? Did you copy this map or allow anyone to copy it? What you have seen is something that could cause harm to not only the King, but the Kingdom itself. Having your word really doesn't mean much as I have only known of you for a very short time. Having that information in your mind where more nefarious parties could draw it out cannot be allowed. " The ArchMage relaxes, but only for a moment. "Derya, I do not have time to quibble back and forth. You will either tell me the whole truth willingly, or I will make you tell me the whole truth. If I do not believe what you say next, then you will spend the next week in the Home Guard's interrogation cells and if you are lucky, you will emerge with only the memory of the map removed from your head! I can have them rip every memory from your mind to get to the truth! You will wake up thinking you are a hobling merchant from Auric who is only in town to sell her mother's yarn!"

The ArchMage waits, very impatiently for Derya to speak her next words... carefully...
 
Derya stiffens, her eyes the size of saucers Her jaw clenches and she is visibly shaken. She lifts her chin, a fire of indignation in her eyes and it takes her a long moment to speak. "I gave the details to no one, I mentioned I had something troubling to Crow, as lovers are wont to share, but I knew it came with trouble so I did not overshare regarding the contents. I have no other copies." Her words were snipped, precise and barely hid the quiver in her voice.
The Elf stands, slowly, hands clenched all the tighter, her knees feel like water and her stomach as if someone has kicked it right out of her. "Take the map from my head then. Know that I protest this invasion of my mind, but I have no choice, it seems, but to be bullied into the violation of it." Taking a deep, unsteady breath, she releases it in a long sigh. Her gaze holds on Az'Caine, though her eyes shimmer with a dampness and the set to her jaw seems more to hold control than in defiance. "I know your anger, Lord, and I fully understand why this troubles you. But I am Valdenhold and though I am no one to speak of, it is in my nature to protest having unwelcome mucking going on in my head. There is nothing more nefarious to my actions. I just don't want someone fiddling with my mind. I've a rather long life ahead of me and I'd rather be able to think clearly through it."
She looks away then, to the door, as if some escape could be provided there. "Not that any of what I say likely matters to you. Where do I need to go to get my memories all torn up then? At least do a lass a favour and leave her some memories of home, yes?"
She fights the urge to begin the song. But it plays through her head as she waits an answer.
 
The ArchMage settles his gaze upon Derya. "I will promise you, only the memories of the map will be erased. There is no need to remove anything else of your life." With that the ArchMage casts a SLEEP spell upon Derya and her world blackens around her.
 
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