Calliope looked around Grand Station, mind still in slight awe at visiting the beautiful capital for the first time. She came for the departure celebrations some time ago but her stay seemed so short in such a large city. She only managed to visit one of the three grand libraries that the city held, spending really all of that day there just wandering through it's vast halls looking through pages and pages of books, texts and scripts of all things from the religious, from plays and performances and even a few rather...indecent collections that got a blush from her, though she did hold on to those for a little while. Then there were the four grand temples that served the different quarters of the city, these she could only get a cursory view of the outside and a hurried glance in the inside. However even that small time was enough to awe the town-born woman at the sheer size and majesty of the structures; their gilded decorations, vast inner structures and beautiful artworks making a mark on her especially since she came from a Sacrificum practising area where wealth was kept at a bare minimum, anything was was not considered as a necessity for survival was given as tithe and tax. Now she saw where all those tithes and tributes went towards and couldn't help but feel pride in the thought that her town had contributed to something that grand, had been in some small way an important part of it's creation. “Are you ready, Cally?” A voice asked from behind her, tearing her from her inner thoughts. She turned and saw Jerrick, her adventuring partner for the past two years. He was a tall man and well tanned, with a fit and slim body of wiry muscle and well cropped black hair. He was a good, strong and dependable friend, a potential legionnaire if he so wished to go down that path. In comparison Calliope was slimmer in frame with a dancer's agile body, slightly lighter of skin with long brown hair usually tied into a functional ponytail and eyes of golden amber. She was a singer and performer by trade with, in her mothers words, the voice of an angel who screamed herself hoarse. However she also considered herself a competent duellist, having attended classes sponsored by the Queen who was a well known practitioner of the sport and encouraged it's participation even amongst the less well-to-do of the populace. “Yes, has everyone arrived?” She replied as she got up and dusted herself off. He nodded and indicated to the small group behind him. Two men and one woman. One of the men wore recognizable tan brown robes with the emblem of the Missionaries, a gold on white colouration depicting an open book in the center within a white circle with green wreaths. He was around average height and had short brown hair with green eyes. He looked rather young, most likely an initiate of the Missionary order. The other man was slightly taller with longer and had less kept hair with a light stubble forming around a hard set jaw. Compared to the rather young looking missionary this man seemed older and his brown eyes spoke of experience. He wore simple red linen garments with black crosses as decoration, a thick leather belt and by his leather booted feet lay a pile of bags. The [url=http://fc05.deviantart.net/fs71/f/2013/217/0/8/untitled_by_dktaylor-d6gsedt.jpg]woman[/url] was around Calliope's height, though she looked older, with gold blonde hair tied into a braid that wrapped around her head like a crown, held in place by a small jewelled diadem that wrapped in and amongst her braids. Calliope thought she looked rather pretty especially with her light blue and white dress matching her aquamarine eyes. She also had a pack with her that lay on her feet. “Hello” Calliope greeted the group “Im Calliope, you've already met Jerrick” She indicated to the man. “Im assuming we're all ready to board?” They nodded and the missionary initiate spoke up “Hello, im Mardock of Colveran and behind me is Samel Sellsword” “Of Angelia” Samel added. The woman nodded her head in greeting, the green pendants hanging off of her diadem jingling “Hello, im Mariam Greenhand of Almostra. A pleasure to be part of this group” Just then the platform bells rang followed by a bellow of steam from the locomotive. The doormen called out that it was the last chance for any passengers so the group picked up their belongings and boarded the train. Inside they found their compartment which was a comfortable fit for a group of their size and they took their seats, Miriam, Calliope and Jerrick on one side and Mardock and Samel on the other. “So” Mardock began, putting his elbows on the table and resting his chin on his entwined fingers. “Cardinal Maveran has offered a generous reward for this task but I need not tell you that capturing an undead still...alive, is no easy task. However you need not worry, I am trained in ways of handling the undead and I have been assured that Samel knows the ways of a sword quite well” Said guard nodded. “'Been in the legion for half a term, 'supposed to be on leave but eh” He shrugged “I cant stay away from a good fight” “Yes, well. That's good” Mardock continued “Ms Miriam is a healer I believe?” She nodded “Yes, ive studied with the priests at Almostra and im certified with the Guild of Herbalists” She was smiling as she said this, proud of her achievements. Calliope liked her. They finished off formal introductions after that, though Mardock gave Calliope an uncertain look when she mentioned her profession, a look which she largely ignored. They made small-talk after that, Calliope taking her chance to learn more about the older woman in their party. --------------------------------------------------- “AUGHHHHAAA!!!!” The scream was ear-breaking but Tarkaras could hardly feel anything but the crushing grip of his sister's left hand as she seemed hell bent on crippling his limb. “Come on now my Queen, just push! Push!” The midwife urged as she waited between Monzcarro's legs, her apprentice and aids rushing about doing whatever task they were set to. Tarkaras attempted, once again, to soothe his wife with words but it seemed she was too preoccupied to listen. “UAAAGGHH!!” Monzcarro shrieked, her death grip on her brother's hand tightening if that was even possible. “Ahhhh!” Tarkaras cried as he felt his bones grinding together. “Yes, yes my Queen. Push, harder, push!” She did so and a long, drawn out scream ripped through her battered throat while Tarkaras let out a muffled groan. The process seemed to drag out for far too long and Tarkaras was increasingly worried with every second, with every scream but finally, after a long and frightful ordeal he heard a cry that made his heart melt and he let out an extremely relieved sigh. The young King looked down. There he was. “A boy” The midwife said as she towel wiped the crying baby before handing him over to a very, very tired and happy looking mother. “A boy” Monzacarro repeated with a wide smile on her droopy lips “A boy...” Tarkaras hugged his sister closer to him and joined in the embrace of his son, their son. He looked, and sounded, healthy but experience had taught Tarkaras that Saint Angela would give him a challenge to overcome soon enough. He looked to his wife and kissed her on the cheek, his heart calming after the ordeal. “What should he be named?” He asked. Monzcarro stared into the eyes of their child while rocking him softly in her arms, bright green eyes looking up at her with curiosity as it slowly stopped crying. “Leo” She whispered. “Leo” Tarkaras kissed her forehead “Leo it is. Our little lion”. The child gurgled and began to reach around and touch anything it could lay it's tiny little hands on. Tarkaras offered him a scarred finger which Leo could hardly get his hands around. The baby held onto it for only a brief moment before moving on to more interesting things. “He seems such a little thing” Tarkaras muttered as Monzacarro brought the babe to her teat where he immediately began to suckle. “He will grow into a man” Monzcarro said “A strong one, like his father and his better uncles” They shared a chuckle at that. “My lord” One of the midwife's aides approached them, bowing, speaking without lifting her head “The lord Grand Cardinal and lady Dracken ask for your presence” Tarkaras raised his brows and looked over to his wife. She nodded “Go, he will be here when you return” He gave them both a parting kiss and headed outside. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 'Ughhh...' Tarkaras sighed internally, head resting on his hand as he swirled his wine inside a multi-coloured glass cup barely paying any attention to the two people across the desk. Virgillian, his uncle and Grand Cardinal of the Church, and Trinicia his aunt and the Master of the Inquisition, were in a heated argument in his private office about a matter than apparently greatly interested them. So much so Trinicia seemed like she was ready to lunge for Virgillian's throat and he so very much wanted to reciprocate the action. Tarkaras could care less at this moment. He slapped the table to get their attention, and to just stop them in general. “So as I understand this is an issue that cannot be sorted through normal procedure?” Both glared at him. “No” His aunt stated with fervor, her eyes alight with fury. Literally alight, bright yellow orbs due to the magic coursing within her blood. “Yes!” Virgiallian countered, Tarkaras sinking back on his quite comfy seat sighing as the two wailed at each other with words once again. “Alright! Enough!” He slapped the table again, harder this time. “I will hold private council with you both and pass a writ on this matter. Auntie-” He looked at her “-Can you please leave us?” She looked like she wanted to argue but in the end agreed, leaving Virgillian and Tarkaras alone in the room. “Well” Virgiallian began “While this situation is certainly an interesting and noteworthy case, to simply override proper judicial procedure like she is saying is going too far. Mandaly is dead-” Tarkaras palmed his face and groaned, his heart falling into a pit. It was a far more serious issue than he initially gave it credit for. “-And while that is a great tragedy we cannot simply bypass established law. The inquisitors involved must be put to trial for manslaughter” “Holy blood has been spilled uncle” He spoke into his hands as he looked at the larger man. “And without good reason. I cannot ignore such a matter” Virgillian nodded in sympathy “I know, I know. I do not ask you to ignore it but simply do not interfere in the process. Let justice be administered as it has always been done” Tarkaras could see the logic in that but it still hit hard when one of their own was killed. Their blood was sacred, it was their connection to their great Mother, to spill it was a grave sacrilege. “Very well” He sighed “Leave now and call for my aunt” He did so and a short while later Trinicia walked into the room. Looking at her Tarkaras couldn't help but note how she wore her dress like a second skin. It was soft cloth, tied at the shoulders in the colour of gold with black trim. A braided black belt secured it to her trim midriff as the fabric fell down to her sandalled feet and black painted nails. Unlike many who met her Tarkaras was lucky to know the more gentle side to his aunt than the feared and ruthless Master of the Inquisition. She came here for the leaving ceremonies and for the expectant birth of his child. Being in the capital city she did not take to wearing her inquisitorial armour or uniform very often, as was her usual custom. Plus the occasion allowed for her to be more liberal in her attitude, to take a break as it were. [i]'If only this did not happen'[/i] “Well auntie-” He began but was stopped mid sentence when she put her hand on the door and activated the magical lock. Tarkaras watched, confused as she slowly made her way towards him with a mischievous smile on her lips and her four wings fluttering. As she neared his desk she took flight and landed sitting in front of the young King. This close, he could smell the scented oils and incense that she most certainly did not have when she first stepped through the door and a baser instinct started to take over his thinking. “It has been a while since we were alone my dear nephew” She said, smiling her black painted lips as she made a show of taking off her sandals, lifting the hem of her dress to reveal her smooth, recently oiled legs. This close he could see that both sets of her nails were painted in the same midnight black as her lips. She was one of the rare few who did not face a physical challenge but a mental one. Right now though that didnt matter. Tarkaras' mouth was drying, remembering his previous private encounters with his dear auntie. “It has...” He whispered as he reached out and slowly ran his hands up his aunt's legs, right up her firm thighs and stopping on her even firmer buttocks. She felt hot, the scented oils making his fingers slippery. He ended up standing over her with her back on the desk. She smiled up at him, hardened features softening as she began to undo the straps on her shoulders and pulling the top half of her dress down. “It has” --------------------------------------------------------------------------- The two sat entangled in Tarkaras' luxurious chair, naked, clothes piled on the desk cleared of writing implements and books and whatever else happened to be in the way of their heated passion. Their wings wrapped around each other acting as a cushion and a blanket to lay on. Trinicia stroked her nephew's hair as she whispered in his ear “Have I been assured my dear? You will allow me to deal with this?” The young King leaned into her further and breathed a content sigh, her soothing and pleasant scents filling his nose “Yes, yes. Just as long as you deal with the Inquisitors in question of your own accord, do what you will with the mayor” She turned his head gently to give him another kiss, their tongues tangling once more. After a while, they broke away, breathless “Thank you, my dear, dear nephew-king. And congratulations” She gave him a lighter kiss “I hope to see my grandnephew soon” He nuzzled into her and planted kisses on her scented neck “How is Bessandra?” “Doing well, though it seems her challenge has dawned on her” He looked up at her amber eyes “Oh?” “She struggles with words. Can barely get them out of her mouth most days” He sighed “I will pray for her” “She also wonders about her father. Sometimes it's all she can think about” Tarkaras hugged his aunt closer “Auntie-” “I know my dear” She stroked the back of his head as he began to rain kisses on her breasts “I know. It is best to leave it as it is, you know how Monza can get” “I know” [i] 'After all'[/i] He thought. [i]'You are not much different'[/i] -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Virgillian was less than happy with the young King's ruling but in the end he gave up protest, assured that punishment would be handled. Later that day a messenger bird carried a letter to the local Inquisition headquarters of the town of Vilgrid; [I] Balian, Enclosed is a writ of the king allowing for the instigators to be tried and punished within the organization. Further instructions are to implicate Mayor Baloran as part of the heresy recently rooted in the area and that he was the one who misdirected the Inquisitors, putting blame on Mandaly. He is to be arrested on these grounds and his home and office is to be searched thoroughly for 'evidence'. The integrity and aptitude of the organization cannot be questioned. Glory to Angela, Dracken [/i] ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Jean hummed happily as she meandered her way through the beautiful marble halls of the Theologian Academy, taking advantage of her sister's need of sleep to wander freely. It was late in the afternoon with the sun setting, casting a dazzling orange glow in the sky which gave the massive glass windows of the academy a bright array of colours, different from the day. “Ah, Ms Voerman, I was just looking for you” A man said just as Jean rounded the corner. She paused mid step and leaned back to take a look. The man was a little short in stature with short, clean cut blonde hair and sea-blue eyes wearing the blood red robes of the Cardinals, much like the one Jean was wearing. His wings were thin, the base just spanning from the top to the bottom of his shoulder blades. “Mr Rhoder. A pleasure, I was searching for you as well” she lied as he accompanied her, rather, she following him to whatever place they might end up in. “How did the day go for you?” “Oh, it went very well” he replied as they made their way towards one of the research wings “Though I must say that the first year students are not being very inquisitive this year around. It seems the influence of the bureaucracy is being felt in earlier education. Also, I had met with the adventurers that answered my call and I believe I have selected the most capable of them, we should see some results in the following weeks” “Mmh-Hmm” Jean said looking far more interested at her surroundings, the grand corridors of marble and coloured glass being familiar to the woman who almost exclusively lived here. As they walked Jean began to realise where they were going and, going by Therese's memory, what they were going to do. They entered one of the rooms in the research wing filled with with materials and equipment for what looked like spiritual studies, but with a certain twist by Maveran himself, one of his many ways to compensate for his lacking magical power. Copies of tomes lay in neat shelves, texts written by people long dead yet who's voice seemed to carry on beyond their graves for some reason or another. There were what looked like musical instruments laying around, metal flutes and pipes which had different objects attached to them. Tuners and resonators, sound amplifiers and dampeners, all made to commune with the inner being of humanity. Music, after all, gives soul to the universe. It affected man in a primeval way that was difficult to comprehend, going deep into their soul and inner being. [i]'Or something like that'[/i] Jean thought as she picked up a modified flute and twirled it on her fingers, waiting for Maveran to open the door to the practice area below the room. It was a sleek construction, all smooth dark wood carved with angelic designs. However unlike usual flutes this one had a metal attachment to the end, a magical transformer which transformed the sound into magical energy. She blew a flat tune and a white light shot out, impacting the floor but leaving no mark. She flayed a softer tune this time and the light came out slower, less bright. It flowed rather than hit the floor, dissipating as it made contact. “Ms Voerman, the door is open” Maveran let her know as he held said door open. She gave a sheepish smile, placed the instrument back on the table and went through, down the lantern lit marble stairway into a large and spacious room. There were alcoves carved into the walls where lanterns were put and decorative glassworks covered the walls depicting the academy, scholars, classrooms and other similar things. More instruments were stored here but the most noticeable object that covered the majority of the room from the center was a chalk drawn circle within which were more chalk drawn patterns in geometric designs. The lanterns were already lit as she went down, within were two people that Jean recognized. Cardinals Victoria Sanctum and Elain Brightwing. Victoria was a tall, sleek woman with high cheekbones and an aristocratic face with long smooth black hair tied into a functional ponytail. She wore the red robes of the cardinals and had a wide gold and jewelled winged symbol that covered her collar, a chain of gold looping around her neck to secure it in place. Her wings were wide and curved to the side. She would have been fairly attractive Jean thought, if not for the fact that her eyes looked like a thunderbolt had passed through them and left a mark. Normally hidden by a piece of fabric, in the presence Victoria's eyes were stark white, the skin around it pale, wrinkly and scarred. She held a staff that was around two thirds of her height made of dark wood, beautifully decorated with gold inlay that doubled as a walking cane. Elain was shorter, much shorter than Victoria or even Maveran. She was a pixie-faced thing with short blonde hair and though she was older than Jean and Therese' forty-eight she had the body of an eleven year old. An eleven year old mangled by a steam machine. And had leprosy. Her left arm down from the elbow was missing, her right hand, usually forced into a glove was twisted, the fingers splaying in odd directions. Her robes covered most of her body and those bits that were exposed were wrapped in damp red cloth, but underneath Jean knew of the red rashes, the pustules and boils that marred the girl's skin. Her wings were noticeably small, even for her size and drooped downwards, never managing to lift themselves let alone the girl they were attached to. How Elain had managed to stay walking for all these years Jean, and all who knew about the girl, chalked it up to her very in depth knowledge of holy magic and other healing arts. “Welcome...” Victoria started, pausing, sensing who was there “Jean. How have you been?” “Well enough, Therese is a pain in the ass but hasnt she always?” “And yet you love her as you always have” Elain commented, voice muffled by the red facemask she wore. Jean turned up her nose in a dramatic fashion, giving an exaggerated huff and crossing her arms. “Well, now that we are all here let us get to the task at hand” Maveran was always a to the point man. “Let us test Ms Voerman's theory” They gathered around the circle but only Elain was within the chalk drawn barrier. That is, until Jean realised that she had somehow stepped in as well, standing next to the girl-woman. [i]'Huh'[/i] She thought curiously as she lifted her arms and began to summon the magic within her by instinct. Elain was doing so as well, a glowing light gathering in her hands as she muttered holy incantations while Jean was being more careful, gathering raw mana before applying the element of fire. Fire, after all, was a short lived element. It wouldn't do to burn out before the spells could join and even then it would have to be stoked to keep going and forced to go how you wanted it. Jean blinked. Where did that come from? As realisation was dawning on her a bright light made her focus her attention to the task at hand. Elain had primed her spell. Looking down at her hands Jean saw that she too had done so. She looked at Elain, the latter nodded and the two unleashed their spells. Elain unleashed a lance of white light towards the center of the circle and barely a second later Jean followed, unleashing her fire towards the light. The magics crossed and it took Jean by surprise how much effort was required just to prevent her fire from fizzing out, from being overcome by the light or even just to keep it going. More effort was required to even try and merge the two together and both Elain and Jean were sweating with exertion in their attempts. It seemed an eternity but in reality it was only a few seconds before the magics were beginning to fuse. For a fraction of a second Jean thought they had managed to do it. Then the magics untangled and they were blasted with white light and fire. The chalk rings glowed immediately, shifting, absorbing the unleashed magic and protecting the two in it's confines as well as those outside. Jean found herself sitting on the floor having been knocked over, however there was hardly a mark on her or her clothing. “Your not firm enough in your control” A familiar voice scolded her and Jean sighed, letting Therese pick her up and onto her feet. “Last time I checked fire isnt one to be controlled” Was her excuse. “Nevertheless” Victoria interjected before Therese could speak “Your theory holds promise Therese. It is something to work on” Jean could feel Therese's' smug smile. ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Telbaran Plains, Western Border Mizani sat on his horse, eyes scanning over the truly vast caravan that was assembled for this task. Carts formed a long, long line down the cobble paved road accompanied by horse riders both light and heavy guarding their flanks. There were carts for goods, for supplies, for equipment, for people and every other thing that was brought along. “Mizani” Someone called out behind him. He looked over his shoulder and saw Alexander trotting towards him on a black stallion. “Master” He greeted “Where to we head?” Alexander pointed to where Armen was parting ways with a rather rugged looking group of riders. Nomads that occupied the lands outside the borders of the Holy Lands. “Armen negotiated with an old friend of his, says it's the chief of a horse tribe. They will guide us to where the Val” He gestured to the wide river flowing to their right “branches off into the Arry. They know of a way to cross” “Excellent” Mizani took a deep breath. “Most excellent” “Indeed” ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- Grand City of Talins, The great oars glided through the water and propelled the ships forward out of the harbour and into the wider expanse of coast. The city's inhabitants lined the harbour side cheering and waving at the departing ships, carrying one of the expeditions that would sail into the unknown lands farther north than anyone dared to to go. Captain Frey stood on the deck of his ship waving at the crowds with a wide smile on his bearded face. “A good day for sailing Captain?” Tervani asked. Frey nodded “Aye, clear skies for now. Though a little prayer wouldnt go amiss” The missionary nodded “I will do so once we leave harbour” “Glory to Angela then” “Glory to Angela”