[Midpoint] “Squaring the Circle of a Life” [Pala and Masamune]

[Palacrisis D Jones]

Mid Spring Era XV

Arriving by wizard express Palacrisis and his companion master sorcerer Hassan Bey presented their visas for inspection. The barons was old and battered having been presented and examined by more sets of gate guards then he cared to remember. It told the guards, his name his occupation his address.

Name~ Palacrisis D Jones Baron Austerfield of Sheria, Occupation ~ Public Servant Address ~ Kallimeyra Estate Taralon Sheria

It was his name that had drawn Pala away from official business and the prince, his name and a promise made to his wife that one day he would attempt to find out who he really was. When his son was finally born and had grown old enough to understand these things Pala wanted to be able to tell Carmarak who he was, where his roots were, where his father had come from. A history of family and antecedents that could provide the growing lad with a frame work for his life.

Palacrisis what a ridiculous name! It had been a burden to him all his life although J’lyara had told him she loved his daft name but ever since he had come to Aelyria he had wanted to know who had given him such a peculiar name. Thus it was that finally he had decided that he needed to find his past.

His memories of the past his earliest days were thin and sketchy one memory however was clear puzzling but clear………..

Secrets : he was young again......... There was a knock on the shorn boards that represented the front door of the rude hovel, he could feel the cold dirt floor on his bare feet and the chipped wood mug in his little grubby hand. The last inch of milk was still in the mug and as the loud knock hammered through the house, an old woman had opened the door. The little Pala had hidden behind the woman’s skirts and peered at the visitor. The tall dark man had a beaky nose, dark blue eyes and beetling eye brows, his beard flecked with grey was full and shaped. He was dressed in dark blue clothes and had high shiny boots. A great fur trimmed cloak was over his clothes and he held in his left hand a big black wide brimmed hat. He handed the old woman a bag that jingled and she took it without a single word. As she went to close the rude door the big man knelt in the snowy street and in a deep brown voice said with a tear in his eye. Palacrisis my son, it is best this way, we will meet one day and I will explain all. He stood up and walked down the street towards a square with a large monumental statue of a rider in it. So what had happened after that? He did not remember much, the old woman had several other children and Pala, was not one of them, he had been sort of adopted but that word was never uttered in the house hold. He remembered being ignored a lot and being left to his own devices, He was never starving but never fully satisfied either. He remembered that he hated his name other street children would run behind him and shout at him. “Palacrisis, Palacrisis never a friend always a crisis”, so he did not have a lot of mates whilst growing up. He did not remember the old woman having a man in her life so he supposed she was a widow. Her name, what was her damn name? Old something or other, it must be over 30 years since he had last tried to bring that name to the surface. He puffed his pipe to life again and bought out a bottle of Aelyrian whiskey poured a generous measure and sipped. Old……Mary, no Margaret, Myrtle, no to each of them, but he was sure it started with M……… Melilot Sandydowns that was her, a halfling by the sound of it, he reflected His childhood had been poor lonely and uneventful, he had asked the woman about her visitor who called himself father but got a clip round the ear for his pains and no information. The woman had died, some three years later and her children had moved in with a sister or something, so at about 9 years old. Pala had been thrown out onto the street to make a living as best he could. He had been lucky; there had been a stable at the bottom of the street run by a pair of brothers, they were morose and taciturn men not given to conversation but as long as he groomed the beasts, kept the tackle shining and kept the place swept. They fed him and let him sleep in the hay loft. Now what were their names? They had been elves or half elves, not Vysstichi but regular elves. Elessar and Valandil Sirfalas that was it, thinking about it, they might well be still alive after elves had very long lives

There had been another incident with dreamers and mystics who visited him in Taralon with a strange prophesy received a few cycles before J’lyara came into his life and a vision of his father telling him “there is a fine history of service to the crown in our family, my boy be content with that”….and the location …Midpoint. But it was not enough, a vague hint received in a dream would never satisfy the man he was just not built that way. He had to find out why he had been abandoned as a child!

The pair had booked into a inn and sat down to simple fare and a mug of ale and slowly Pala told the story to his tutor, friend and guard who had listened quietly until Pala had finished. The Arakmatian shook his head slowly

I can recount my families history back twelve generations thus my lord I have never truly been alone but you have been alone for most of your life, that must have been hard yet baron I feel that this is one journey you must make alone probably the last you will ever take until the wheel of life turns the last time. I will wait for you Palacrisis …..

Thus it was after a restless darkening haunted by dreams that made no sense Pala left the tavern alone and began his search of the city, his only clue an equestrian statue that if spotted might trigger other memories of this city if indeed Midpoint was the city of his birth…nothing was certain.

[Masamune]

And so it was that, meandering the streets of the forlorn city of Midpoint--or perhaps based on his recent review of memory it was they that cast the city in a forlorn light--that the Baron Austerfield of Sheria sought for the single sign of his past with the tiny sliver of hope. Though none would admit it openly, Midpoint had been showing signs of decline as of late, and though the Baron wasn't always a noble of the Empire-turned-Kingdom, his rather dreary roots would not be so hard to imagine given the tough times having fallen on the fortress-city as of late.

The question, of course, was if blind luck--or the will of the gods, or serendipity, or whatever name one so chose to grant it--would guide him down the path he walked to find the answer he was so hungrily seeking...if in fact he truly wished to find that answer. The answer, sadly, was that Midpoint was a moderate-sized place. Forty-five thousand strong--though true only two-thirds were civilians--meant a somewhat large city and while it was no metropolis, it would take a small handful of candlemarks to inspect every block of every street for that statue.

After a few candlemarks, however, it seemed that the dreamers and mystics Pala had dealt with were not entirely wrong. The statue was, eventually, indeed found. Though it was old and in such ill-repair that a few chunks were missing, it did in fact exist. The stone was clearly breaking down from weather and lack of care, but the bronze plaque bolted into the stone at its base hadn't worn down or been stolen, though it did show signs of lime buildup beneath the raised lettering. The inscription itself read:

"In Respectful Memory of Captain Hugo D'Jones, whose brave sacrifice saved us all."

Quite vague. The statue itself, in it's original form, was of a trim and sly Silrosian Windstepper, bolting across the terrain at full speed. It's seated rider, a thin man with hard eyes and shaggy hair covered by a tricorn hat, gazed into the distance as his body hunched tightly over that of his mount, his cape flailing in the imagined wind. Though this wasn't the man he remembered, it did bear a striking resemblance to him. Not as much to Pala, though...a grandfather, perhaps? Great grand-father? There was no date or further dedication on the plaque, just the mysterious inscription that didn't detail much except that somewhere down Pala's line, a man had, in an unspecified manner, been a savior of an unspecificed number of people.

As Pala located the statue--in a small area that while once filled with homes of the middle-class had some eras since turned into a poorer section of town, there were few citizens walking the streets in that area. Most hurried past or chose to walk other streets, so it was no surprise that this statue had long since been neglected. An elderly dwarf woman, however, at a bit over four feet with shaggy gray hair and in a long dress, eyed Parreyon as he gazed at the statue, and sighed loudly.

"Damn shame when heroes are forgotten due to the passage of time..." she spoke aloud, as though trying to be friendly, as she continued to amble past him.

[Palacrisis D Jones]

He walked alone, a man only not a title or a job description but just a man in the press of people going about their daily tasks. Pala had visited Midpoint once before eras ago to met with Empress Audrey but he had never had the chance to really see the old military city first hand. It was not as large as he had first thought and the sight of men in uniform brought home the fact that this was still a garrison town.

He strolled quartering the city for a sight of the statue taking his time letting his sharp blue eyes take in what ever sights there were to be seen. None of it was familiar it was all new to him he did not recognise anything. Solid architecture dedicated to functionality was the hall mark of Midpoint as befit’s a military stronghold. There were squares with grim statues of notables who had passed out of memory and into the dry pages of history but nothing that jogged the memory. The locals seemed unaware of a equestrian statue perhaps when you live in a town theses examples of public art and commemoration are simply taken for granted and are passed by without notice but despite the lack of help from local knowledge Pala plodded on .He stopped once to purchase an apple and bit into the wrinkled winter skin savouring the flavour.

A man at his ease nibbling at the core of his fruit he turned a corner and stopped …..

Yes he breathed …… Time and weather had not been kind to the art work, it was old, weather beaten scarred and well past its best ...Another forgotten ill regarded monument to the past …but for Pala it was wonderful ….The memories of childhood were still vague but he knew this rider and his horse as if they were etched in his memory. He walked around the stature taking it all in the heroic pose the care with which the unknown sculpture had put in to capture in stone a moment in history and time full of determination and sense of purpose.

He looked into the face of the rider hard faced with the unmistakable long nose ….Pala ran a gloved hand down the length of his own proboscis and chuckled softly.

Well who ever you were it looks as though we are kin.

He bent the knee and with the sleeve of his coat wiped the verdigrise away from the plate and revealed

“In Respectful Memory of Captain Hugo D'Jones, whose brave sacrifice saved us all."


Captain …Hugo …Sacrifice… he absorbed the bare facts and pondered the lack of other pertinent information…. somewhere in this city there must be a record of what and who this man was …..

His thoughts were interrupted by a voice at his thigh.

Pala started as the grey beard dwarf walked passed him and it took a moment to connect her remark with his own thoughts ….

er excuse me mistress….do you know of this hero …You see I think we may be kin?

If he knew one thing about dwarves was they respected kinship above most things and well if she had a scrap of information it could help his search

[Masamune]

At Pala's words the elderly dwarven woman stopped and turned to face him, her coal black eyes twinkling.

"Mmm? Oh, Cap'n Hugo? Sure do. Once was a time that there weren't many who didn't know the name. Long time ago, though...long time ago indeed..." She nodded gravely during a long pause, before she spoke again. Upon closer inspection her hair was shaggy but well taken care of, and a neat braid encircled the crown of her head, almost as though the hair itself were a crown, meeting in back to fall with the rest of her hair. A thick stubby finger raised to tap her chin as she eyed the statue before eventually continuing.

"Cap'n Hugo was a well-liked man. Stationed with the Alyssans back when they were just the Imperial Guard before all this Legion and Kingdom nonsense came into play. Quite a few of the old records about the guard were lost in the transition, I'm told. Cap'n Hugo was a striking feller, always had an air of authority about 'im. Not unlike you do, sonny, though to a much greater degree. Guess that was part of his lifelong military background. Cap'n Hugo wasn't originally from Midpoint if I remember, but he brought his family here with 'em when he was stationed here, and he loved Midpoint as if he'd spent his whole life here.

"He had a son and two daughters as I recall, and they were taken care of by the community when Hugo died. No disrespect, if you think him kin you might have already searched for answers, but have you heard how he died?"

[Palacrisis D Jones]

Pala drank in the dwarf’s words his attention focussed on her words ….it was obvious from the state of the statue that what ever Captain Hugo D’Jones had done was a fair time ago so the passage of time might have distorted the tales but that did not matter .The fact that he had a bona fida ancestor with a name he shared was uplifting after all this time with no idea who or what he really was. His heart was racing as the tale began to unfold and Pala had to take deep breaths to slow himself down reminding himself.

hang on there my boy this is an old tale told by an older dwarf, don’t take this all in and hang your hopes completely on it yet. No he had not heard how Hugo had died , he did not even know there was a Hugo until a quarter candlemark ago!…But first …..


Mistress this is fascinating and everything you tell me is new to my ears but before you tell me the tale of the good captains demise would you allow me to introduce myself? I am Palacrisis D Jones, I do the odd job here and there for the government so you could say I do a bit of service rather like Captain Hugo. But a good story deserves a better venue than the street might I buy you a drink and you can tell the rest of the story in comfort?

Pala wanted to enjoy the tale without others prying into his business and a revelation like this deserved a very large brandy as an aid to digestion.

[Masamune]

~*OOC*~Sorry for the wait, thanks for being patient, Pala. ^.^


At his recommendation she waved her hand and snorted disdainfully. Not at the concept of having a drink with him, but at the concept that there was some drink somewhere that could measure up to her private stock. She wasn't a well-known or rich businesswoman, but she did sell some brew locally, and most who'd tasted her stuff would atest to it being the finest damn drink they'd ever had.

"Julos' Bones, child," she swore, "I don't need no tavern swill. Come, come." She motioned him to follow her towards her small hut, speaking over her shoulder to add her name before speaking quietly as they walked, continuing her tale.

"Pleased to meet a descendant of Cap'n Hugo...the name's Galara Richbrew. Anyway, Cap'n Hugo served a very unique position within the guard, sonny. Because of the rather secretive nature of what he did, you'd find little to no records on him anyway, but it didn't help that when they Imperialized everything some of the records were lost in the shuffle. Brewing is my passion, but with the recent dropoff in business I took up a job to help with the hard times as a civilian deskworker for the Alyssans, you see. I know quite a bit of paperwork around the office, which is how I know all this." She shrugged passively, not quite sure she even needed to explain herself, but figuring the youth would probably like to know.

"Anyway, this was about a century and a half ago or so. Cap'n Hugo's role was to travel around the province and quietly collect information. Any tips on major movements or encampmants--even minor uprisings and such--he was supposed to bring back to his superiors. Well, one brightening he hears of an orcish warband. They were well organized, and they were moving fast. He left to go check it out, and next thing you know he's snared by a patrol. Cap'n Hugo was tortured for three brightenings and three darkenings straight with little-to-no sleep, constantly interrogated about who he worked for, the defense plans of the various cities, the location of the large solder emplacements...you name it, they tried to get it out of him." Dwarves did love their thrilling tales of heroics and adventure, which led credence to the saying 'Tall as a Dwarven Tale'...so it was hard to know what of her words were truth, and what was 'dynamic storytelling', so to speak.

"On the fourth brightening Cap'n Hugo sees his chance to escape, so he does. Takes down his orcish guard with a frying pan and cuts down another six with the dagger his guard had as he made way to his horse. Luckily they hadn't eaten her yet, so he took off. He rode as fast and as hard as he could, moving with the speed of the wind, and as soon as he gets back he reports the situation. The defense mobilizes, word gets spread to the other cities, and everyone is on high alert, but that wasn't the end by a longshot...not for Cap'n Hugo. Ah. Here we are." They arrived at a modest hovel, and as she opened the door he'd see that it had seen better brightenings, but was still well cared-for. She motioned him to his choice of a slightly threadbare sofa or one of two larger overstuffed study chairs for seating, and she moved into the kitchen, humming a tune quietly.

After a small handful of moments she returned with two steel tankards, setting one in front of Pala, before sitting down in one of the chairs herself, taking a long slow drink of the draught. It had a rich, flavorful texture that was slightly tangy at the end, with no noticable aftertaste whatsoever. She let out a long sigh and smiled warmly after taking her swig, setting the tankard down on a small table beside the chair before continuing.

"Aaaahhh...perfect. Exactly what I needed. Oh, where was I?" she scratched her head, trying to remember where she'd dropped off her tale.

[Palacrisis D Jones]

He trailed beside the garrulous dwarf who had rejected his offer of a drink in one of the local hostelries in favour of home brew. Pala was not entirely sure he was being wise dwarfen home brew had a certain reputation for strength and potency and although he was no stranger to fine wines and spirits he reminded himself to be a little careful in his imbibing…..These thoughts slipped away as Galara Richbrew began to embroider her tale of daring do.......

Capture, torture escape and a wild ride. It smacked of a penny dreadful novel so popular amongst the more gullible members of the population. Yet behind the description of the events 150 eras ago there must be an element of truth the cold hard words on official reports might be embellished by the dwarven ale wife but there was a core of truth somewhere. Pala tried to keep his feet on the floor most of the time relying on facts not opinions and fantasy but he could not help a feeling of pride at his supposed ancestors exploits.

The dwarf was a fine spinner of a yarn and Pala was caught up in her telling of an old tale , there would be a time later to separate fact from fiction and get to the truth but for the moment he was content to let the story flow into him.

Arriving at the little hut he thanked her for her hospitality and selected one of the arm chairs and a mug of the brew. He sipped it suspiciously and then raised an eyebrow looking over the top of the mug..... Milady Richbrew, this is splendid your name is apt this is wonderful!

It was rich and fruity and the tang refreshed a jaded palette Pala stretched out on the armchair and drank again savouring the brew…. So Captain Hugo escaped from the Orcs and brought the news home he sounds a brave and desperate man …if indeed he is my ancestor then I should be very proud of what he did ….but there is more Milady…well I am all ears.

The fact that Captain Hugo had left a family was filed away for the moment, he could ask more questions later but for the present the tale that was unfolding had his absolute attention.

[Masamune]

At the compliment from Pala the dwarven woman smiled.

"Kind of you to say lad. This drink has been in my family for generations...it is indeed where we got our clan name from, if you can't guess." She winked at him playfully before regaining her focus on the story. "Yes! Right. Cap'n Hugo's return.

"Well, as it turned out, those green-skinned bastards were more cunning than most suspected. The orcish encampment hadn't been targetting any of the major cities at all. They'd been waiting for the major cities to dig in their heels. Once they had, the small orcish band began to ravage the countryside. A small township that no one even remembers anymore named Velgin was their target. It was renouned, at the time, for having been one of the richest food-production towns in Centripax...and we don't have a lot of those, so when Velgin got overrun with relatively little effort, food supplies very quickly began to run short. With cities dug in and awaiting attack, they just sat and waited and ate and drank while waiting to see an army of greenskins outside their gates...they had no idea that the orcs had already made their move, and that by just sitting and eating and drinking they were progressing the orcish plot to hold much of the province's food stores hostage.

"Cap'n Hugo noticed something was wrong and tried talking to his superior, but no one listened, and the food reserves of Midpoint continued to dwindle. They said he was the one that alerted them of the orcs, after all, and that his job was done; to let the real military men handle it from then on. Cap'n Hugo was smarter then that, though, and he saw how shipments from Velgin had stopped and the stores were slowly dropping. He knew that if this went on, the first to suffer would be the poor and the families...and he couldn't let his family suffer.

"So, against orders, he rode out of the city on his Windstepper, fast as the dickens. His only real lead was the stopped caravans from Velgin, so he followed that lead immediately. He followed the travel route all the way down to Velgin, where he found the orcish band having occupied and fortified the city, and stockpiling all the supplies for themselves. They were living fat and happy in a well-defended township with no lack of supplies. Cap'n Hugo was furious; especially since he'd been right." She took a swig of her drink and sighed before continuing the tale.

"He couldn't stop there, though...if he did come back to Midpoint to try and rally the troops, he knew he'd only get a traitor's welcome, so he knew he was pretty much on his own. Fleeing to Primus Gaudeo, he went to an apothecary and picked up some poison. He came back and slipped it into only the most recently accessed food stores. He got caught trying to escape after doing so. They recognized him as their previous prisoner and didn't want him escaping again and sending word back, so they gutted him on the spot. Within a cycle orcs started getting sick and dying. The hoarde thought it was a plague, and treated it as such without realizing it was poison. Two-thirds of the hoarde was dead or sick as dogs once the military sent a small expeditionary force to determine why they'd lost contact with Velgin a few cycles later, and the other third couldn't put up a proper fight from malnutrition, as it seemed that too late they'd figured out what had happened.

"The force wiped out the remaining of the band with little effort, and found Cap'n Hugo's body among the corpses. Found his journal on him, which detailed exactly what had happened and what he'd done. Realizing their mistake in chastizing him--and, during his time gone to investigate, assuming he was AWOL and branding him a traitor--they erected that statue in his name for having saved Centripax from some real trouble. He was once considered a local hero in Midpoint, though that's faded into the annals of time by now, though I hear tell every citizen of Velgin--as it seems a fair handful had survived to repopulate--all still to this brightening remember his name as the savior of the town." She took another heafty swig sighing in contentment at the taste once more, before glancing back up at Pala.

"Don't rightly know what happened to his journal, though they say it got passed down to his eldest son when they told his family of his death."

[Palacrisis D Jones]

Sacrifice, duty, a distinct ability to think for himself, bravery tinged with foolishness …..and that temper …the one that Pala possessed and tried to keep buried even under the most stressful situation …not always successfully…Perhaps he shared some of these traits with Captain Hugo…Maybe this was his legacy …


The story finished and Palacrisis sat musing over his mug of good ale before looking into the eyes of the dwarf ….

Milady it’s a fine tale and it makes me proud that Cap’n Hugo may be my ancestor, he had courage that’s for sure, a sense of duty for certain and an ability to ignore stupid orders. If I am half the man that Captain Hugo was then I would say I have honoured his memory but that’s for history to judge.

Pala raised the mug in a toast to the memory of the soldier and drank the remaining brew with some satisfaction before returning to the subject at hand.

Very well you say Captain Hugo left a son and two daughters. So one of these three must be either father or mother to me. You say the cities records were destroyed so it is unlikely that I will be able to trace my parents through that medium. However you did say that Captain Hugo was not Midpoint born …Hmm….Considering his history I would not be surprised if this town of Velgin might not have had some place in his heart maybe he came from there? Even if that is not the case his sacrifice is remembered there and perhaps the good citizens might well have some additional information on the fate of his family. So I think a little trip would do no harm.

He smiled at the old ale wife

“You have done me great service this brightening Milady I am closer to my roots than I have ever been in my life and for that I thank you .However I am not without resources so I would like to reward you Milady Your most excellent brew, might I purchase some, say two barrels a month my workers on my plantation in Sheria would appreciate good dwarven ale. I will pay for transportation from Midpoint so it would be good profit for you. I will let you think on that but I have a feeling Milady that you too might enjoy getting to the end of the tale of the Jones family would you consider being my guest on this quest I am sure we can hire a coach for the journey?

Secrets : Lineage | Grandfather Hugo D Jones | Son ~[Journal?] ~ Daughter ~[Aunts?]~ Daughter ~ [Aunts?] | Pala

[Masamune]

OOC: Sorry about the wait Pala. Finally finished with my vacation and my move. Shouldn't have to wait that long again.


At Pala's words, Gala gazed up at him with a soft chuckle, raising her own mug in silent toast as she swigged down that remained. As he detailed his intention to trail his way to Velgin, her bushy eyebrows slowly climbed her scalp. Quite the interesting proposal.

"It is true that I didn't know Cap'n Hugo well enough to know where he truly came from, but I knew he wasn't a local. The thought that he might have originally come from Velgin is an interesting one. I'm not opposed to selling you some of my drink, but we can negotiate price and the like once this little trip is over." She offered him a grin and hopped to her feet, wincing slightly and bending over to rub the tops of her feet. "Sorry sonny, can't move like I used to. Anyway, I'm not opposed to going with you. Aeternia, I even know where we could probably hire a coach for relatively cheap. He charges outsiders outrageous prices, but I could probably twist him to accommodate us for the trip to Velgin and back for about fifty crowns...a much better deal than the two or so hundred he'd normally charge." She offered a smile and shrugged. "He usually handles most of my deliveries for a modest fee when I need 'em done, but he freelances besides, to take people where they need to go, so long as it's not overlong of a trip, and Velgin is only a few brightenings' ride." She offered a soft smile.

"Been a decade or so since I've been to or even heard much from Velgin, so it'll be nice to visit the place, make sure it's still standing," she chuckled loudly before bustling about, loading up a small pack with supplies and provisions. It was only a small handful of minutes that it took before she turned to him and smiled kindly once more.

"So...I think I'm ready to go," she responded after putting on her good traveling shoes, then pulling on an overcoat and her pack, "Any last business in Midpoint before we head on out to make the trip to Velgin?"

[Palacrisis D Jones]

OOC ~ It’s not a problem I am in no hurry.

IC ~ Apart from letting his companion the sorcerer Hassan Bey know where he was off to Palacrisis had no particular business in Midpoint. The trail of his ancestors had moved to a village he had never heard of before. He had spent candlemarks pouring over old maps of Centripax back when he had been an imperial consul but to his recollection Velgin was not a name that had leapt from the cartography. Which of course gave this trip an extra edge!

Thus it was a few candlemarks later they were safely sitting in a comfortable coach with a hired driver who assured them he did know the way to Velgin. From Galara Richbrew’s description he surmised that the object of their journey was in the south of Centripax but for the moment he was happy enough to relax in the carriage and talk with the dwarfen brew master. Normally a man who kept his secrets close to his chest the long journey. with nothing to do but chat broke a little of his reserve and he told her tales from his life to liven the journey. The beggar like stranger who walked into Trysvale and became a thane of a broken city. The fact that up to this brightening he had never known anything of his family. He talked of the people in his life, his adopted children , a wife he adored and of the way his duty to the kingdom had taken him all over Aelyria. He dismissed silly titles and honours from the stories they seemed so unimportant in the scheme of things. For all his wealth and position he could not help but feel empty he needed blood kin to complete the person who was Palacrisis.