[color=darkcyan][b]=-=Year 443, Usoma, Northern Tyverien=-=[/b] [i]=-=The Shadow over Ugolanbrav=-=[/i][/color] High in the office of the Grand Overseer, [color=darkcyan]Kedican Whilstov[/color] held his hands behind his back, looking out over the city of Ugolanbrav. Years of survival led to a society of order and command, and its streets were ever busy. From the corner to his left he could see the busy work of men loading new batches of coal into warehouses, along with other materials. Hothouse farmsteads where to his right, where countless specialized botanists, farmers, and workmen delicately kept up the insulation needed to grow crops in small but important batches. Yet, to the center of his office was a grand walk, one of the few organized pieces of art dedicated to any Usoman city, a elongated courtyard were merchant stalls all ran from the main government offices and rich districts, to the docks beyond. It was the centerpiece of Usoman life here in Ugolanbrav, and only one figure amongst thousands was walking along which interested him. The pane of glass which allowed him to see from the height of the office across the entire snow laden landscape was the only light within the office, and too his side, Kedican’s friend and Propaganda adviser joined him in the viewing. “It be nicer if the flags were actually colorful.” Spoke [color=darkcyan]Charles White[/color]. “Perhaps, but it's hard enough to find dyes here without attacking some savage tribe for it.” replied Kedican. “Perhaps we should get down to some business then instead of looking out a window at the fine peasants and slaves keeping this wonderful civilization from collapsing, eh?” Charles replied with cheek. Yet, he relented whe Kedican only coldly turned around and turned on a lamp and sat down at his office desk. “First things first, a lot of people are concerned about the mob attacks. Militias I am about half certain are helping them at this point.” Charles produced a paper and flopped it down on the desk “Signatures from 12 folks saying Richard Wiley is the main boss, merchant’s son turned attempted revolutionary in Sigard.” “Kill him.” Kedican replied “You sure? Might turn him into a martyr.” “Did you plan to just go up to him and shoot him in broad daylight? I mean take him out of the city and shoot him and then drown the body.” Kedican said with some frustration “These pseudo liberals make me almost regretful for supporting reform, now all they talk about is my supposed incompetence.” Kedican lit a light and took out a cigar, imported from Fenice. He lit it and began to smoke “Make sure that those morons in the Militia actually get the right person this time.” “As you say.” Charles replied. He shuffled through his coat pockets and pulled out a scout report. “Also, your scouts from the north regions sound concerned still. Tusab are still warring with the Bloodtusk and Wrecktusk out there, and Sigard’s Overseer is still shitting his pants over it.” “Any idea what it is over?” “No clue, sir. Jus--” As Charles was about to inform, they were interrupted by the door suddenly opening and stepped in a large and bulky figure. His white winter overcoat made him out as a elite soldier of Usoma, but his recycled metal pins on his jacket made him a bit more higher in rank. “[color=darkcyan]Davie Bullem[/color].” Kedican greeted coldly. “You should knock more often.” Davie, or Dave, or David, the name not exactly mattered, he was a skilled scout with a long list of brave and pragmatic skills which made him currently the most skilled and talented of Usoma’s soldiers, or at least in the eyes of Ugolanbrav’s people. Davie arrived unarmed, and looking red from both the cold and from anger. “It is bad enough I have to come unarmed, get my fucking gun taken from me by some low life who will probably damage it.” “Normal people dont have guns in their meetings, or offices.” Kedican reminded his general “Since fucking when? How fuckin--” Charles glared at Davie, and gave his rather pale grin. Davie knew full well not to cross Charles or his neophytes within his order of propagandists, and tried to avoid him. He silenced himself as Charles continued to speak. “Like I was saying. Likely, the Bloodaxes wanted to war because some talking seal told them, who knows or cares. Our allies in the Wrecktusk want support, but they decided to attack anyway before really getting our opinion. Now the Tusab are just trying to kill one another. I’d advise that we strike while such things are still up in the air, on the side of our. . .’allies’. . .of course.” “What a bunch of crock.” Davie retorted “Tusab will unite if we get involved.” Kedican raised an eyebrow to this “You know this how?” “Had a couple mercenaries support some Wrecktusks once in raiding a sub tribe of the Blood axes, not my guys per say but they were human. They got massacred and their heads used as fetishes when three damn war parties descended on them specifically just to kill them, thinking the whole time they were my guys. You send a army to deal with the Tusab, you are going to have a Northern Federation on your hands before you know it.” “A theory and little more, the fact is--” Charles was about to speak up, but Kedican spoke far more quickly. “Correct or not, I am not going to sacrifice valuable lives while we have more real issues here. Let the tribes kill each other as they always do, and if they do it enough, we may act on it when its a safer campaign. Continue to scout out the situation.” Both nodded their heads “You are both dismissed.” Charles and Davie both left in silence, and this was swiftly followed by a officer awaiting outside who waited for them to leave. When he entered, he was holding a rope lead, and a small Okan fell beside him with a tug. The officer handed Kedican some papers and untied the young captive, who worryingly looked about his surroundings. The officer and Kedican exchanged salutes and he left in peace. “[color=darkcyan]Coban Mackerbei[/color]?” asked Kedican. The Okan, who looked young and wide eyed only nodded his head. Kedican peered down at the rope collar on his neck, and looked him over “Healthy enough at least. You are to be my new courier.” “Courier, sir?” asked the Okan. Kedican gave a sigh “Yes. I need you to deliver some letters for me.” ____________________ Singarum, Volka, Blayam. These three cursed words were written over the signed city of Ugolanbrav, and now it was graced by another figure as well, the famed occultist [color=darkcyan]Tomas Maccaerei[/color]. Tomas’s blad head and elder look was only graced by the appearance of his profession. He wore upon him at almost all times a mechanical device which both protected him and ritually kept him in a state of magical focus, and he held onto a halberd carved from runes of the shadowed gods. Yet he was far from pious and even more far from liked, as he waltzed into the city along with his charade of acolytes. Tomas’s career as an occultist began ironically in Ugolanbrav where his cancerous sickness had only been cured by his deep fascination in the blood magic of his pious teacher, and his communion with the god Zuuldrick earned him a place in the Circle of Usoman Warlocks. Yet, his thoeries and practices also earned him his quick banishment and he spent far more time traveling between city to city, pilfering its libraries for lore, exploring the ruins of Wrad castles, and performing rituals amongst the Tusab. If anyone in all of Usoma had a more sinister reputation and fame, they were simply then not known. Tomas was invited back to the capital at the request of the warlocks, his services were simply now to far to ignore in spite of previous crimes. Yet trouble did follow him in his wake, for as soon as Tomas entered the circle, he began his welcoming speech by accusing elder members of corruption and of impiety, to the point where he demanded a magical duel with his hated rival, the arch warlock Quadmos Bolkar. Mr. Bolkar agreed to the duel within the chamber in spite of his peers wishing to calm things down, but Tomas very quickly and with supberd ease defeated his political rival and used his magic to quite literally tear him limb from limb. When the duel was done and a silence crept over the chamber, Tomas declared himself Arch Warlock and directed the group as he saw fit. His first task was to pilfer the warlock library. For weeks, Tomas went over old tomes and bestiaries, and added countless new grimoires to the morbid collection. The acolytes looked on with amazement as Tomas melded entire books into existence with his summoning, specifically on his own experience, and began to pen his own magnum opus, The Grimoire of Inner Usoma. It was a book of necromancery unlike any other penned in recent years, filled with countless amounts of local lore, ethnography, and theories on the Wrad, on magic, and the nature of Usoman weather. While penning his piece, Tomas began making demands of the council to fill up ‘his’ library with books of other magical lores, and when it was clear they did not know where to look, he sent several of his servants to the markets to look. It wasn’t common knowledge of the world outside of Usoma, in fact, it was practically a state secret except for some merchants and overseers. It was simpler to keep Usoman society going if no one knew of the warmer weather in lands such as Fenice or Talania. The occultists began searching for answers amongst merchants, learning of Fenice only through tales and small increments. While trade was possible between Usoma and her neighbors, it was often only at the best a trickle. Usoma had to offer much in the way of furs, ivory, and coal, but even its most elite export was well hidden or i'll liked for obvious reasons. Magical Foci made by wraiths often was not easy to look pass. When they heard of Fenice magic, they reported their rumors back to Tomas in which he looked on with peaked interest. Tomas made his way to the Overseer tower to present his agreement with the Grand Overseer. Tomas and Kedican spoke, but it was passive aggressive and both viewed each other with suspicion and contempt. Tomas had wished to leave with his acolytes for Fenice to study abroad and bring knowledge back to Usoma, but Kedican did not trust Tomas to not use his dark powers for more personal gain, and he did not want to offend the Sun Elves with a hot headed occultist who practiced blood magic. After more of a heated exchange between the two, Tomas left in frustration. During the mid morning after over a month, Tomas announced that he would be building a underground library, and had it approved by the city. Kedican hoped that the warlocks would be more appeased if they had larger space for their rituals and tomes. Yet, as the crew men went to work, Tomas himself was not there to oversee it, and instead spent much of his time with a merchant named Paulmer who was planning to go into Fenice to trade ivory. Instead, he was hexed by Tomas to instead deliver a message when he arrived to local authorities with a magical note wishing for Fenice mages and merchants to greet him in Ugolanbrav, for as a student of the arcane, the Council of Usoman Warlocks had great interest in their magic and technology, and Tomas was willing to sponsor a technology fair in the city with aid.