[Lingerer's] - Speaking of Future and Crown

[Keldon Elsdragon]

Second Brightening of the First Cycle in the Month of Cryxatum in the Season Summer; Era II of the Celestine Mandate, Era XIV
Post Fractum. The Second Era of the Regency of Milo L'Evienne

A message arrived for Provost Larinthorpe in the dead of night, the messenger was no where to be found when the letter was pushed under the doorway to the Provost's Quarters.

When opened it would read the following text.

Secrets : Greetings Provost, This will either concern you or not, however I ask regardless. When a sword is held to the people and they begin to die yet no one stands to protect them. How will you act? Shall you defend them in the hopes of the greater good? Or shall you follow the direction of those who know not what is to come? The authergem shattered into pieces, and it created the Empire as we know it, now the rite has begun to find a new ruler in Teleth. But what will happen to the people if the Empire shatters just like the authergem? Tis something to ponder indeed. I shall be at the Lingerer's on the forth night, if you wish to protect the people from such a thing happening then I request you come. I will know who you are but you will not know me.

[Keldon Elsdragon]

Third Brightening of the First Cycle in the Month of Cryxatum in the Season Summer; Era II of the Celestine Mandate, Era XIV
Post Fractum. The Second Era of the Regency of Milo L'Evienne

The next darkening in the city of Nexus sat a man at a table, his Grey hair well cut. The table was inside the Lingerer's in off to the side of the entrance way to the tavern. He watched silently with a cup of what appeared to be ale, although looks can be deceiving. Watching all those who entered he waited, either the one he waited for arrived or he would not.

[Labyrinth]

OOC: Please contact me if your still interested in this.

[Labyrinth]

Yevyingad Larinthorpe received the message and pondered for a long time what it meant and who had sent it. Discussions were held in the dead of night and conclusions were drawn...in the end after all Yevyingad was only one man...important, but only one man. And besides if someone wanted to kill him there were better ways, when it came down to the truth there were no illusions of the sides drawn within Arium now, merely a few questions regarding which side a few individuals were on.

As a result Yevyingad, dressed in tan and cream off-duty clothes with a sword at his hip came at the appointed night and found himself a seat off to one side with a flagon of ale. He'd greeted the bouncer as a friend and the Bev with a brief discussion on the affairs of the Lingerer, it was clear therefore that this was somewhere he felt at home as he seated himself and sipped his ale, waiting for the person he'd been told would come.

[Keldon Elsdragon]

Sitting inside the tavern at a table watching the entrance the man watched as patrons came and went, some guards many drunks. Females, troops and the type who wished to keep there identity hidden. However he knew the appearance of the man he was looking for. He slowly sipped the glass of ale he had with him, and left the four empty glasses he had ordered and slowly poured onto the floor when there was no prying eyes, to those around him would likely believe him a drunk after the amount sitting in front of him. Yet in truth, only one glass had made its way down his throat.

His eyes rose to the door as it opened and his mark had entered, and he looked back to his glass of ale but slowly watched the figure move through the tavern and make his greetings then take a seat. This is where he waited, for perhaps fifteen minutes making the odd noise and sipping his beer while allowing most of it to flow away and onto the floor.

After he ordered another one and took a mouthful he rose and started to move towards the exit, but as he passed Larinthorpe he looked down and turned into a wide smile and widened his eyes. "Well sir... ain't that a mighty fine sword there ya?" he said with a half slur in his voice, now weather it was a real slur or not was still to be determined by the lovely Provost.

Standing in front of Larinthorpe was an older man, perhaps in his forties with clean cut short grey hair. Although he was wearing worn cloths that gave the impression of a poor present his size and the way he was built would give the impression to any keen eye that he was fed and kept good care of his body.

Slumping down in the seat infront of Larinthorpe he snickered slightly. "Wonderful ale young man, wouldn't you agree? Hope so... much better then what they serve elsewhere eh? Not so sour is it?" he said, the word sour came out with much more refinement then an average drunk would likely be able to muster.

[Labyrinth]

Larinthorpe's right hand had moved unobtrusively under the table whilst his left continued to nurse the barely-touched ale flagon as he looked up at his visitor. A quick assessment and nothing was really revealed over much about Yevyingad's opinion except suspicion and caution, the right hand was unseen on a dagger whilst the left was more than ready to throw ale in the man's face...but then that was over-suspicion. Yevyingad's response was much more measured.

“I've always found the service here to be good, although I would also find that our ages are not as vastly different as they seem friend. Did you wish to exchange tales about ale?”

He inquired, leaving the conversational entirely, utterly open...a certain familiarity to such words evident if the man was indeed not just a drunk.

[Keldon Elsdragon]

The man smiled and leaned back as if he was showing he was relaxing he glanced over his shoulder to his former booth perhaps one or two seats away and made note of the distance should he need to make haste there and removed the longsword that was carefully placed under the seat cushion. "Ale... is a wonderful thing is it not?" he said leaning forward putting his hands on the table."When you don't drink it and you pour it in a surface like this table... it seperates into dozens of little beeds, all very different but the same awel. Moving there own ways but in the end they become something larger if you put them together, no?" he stated, his voice now crystal clear and any tint of booze gone.

He paused for a moment and wondered if the man had the brain to realize he was talking about the empire and the dozens of cities and villages spread all over it. "Hundreds or more little bubbles in every drop all doing there own unique thing... but what happens when you place them all back together to form the larger picture... but some roll away and don't... want to form the body of ale?" he asked curiously.

[Labyrinth]

“Curious philosophy for a drunk.”

Larinthorpe replied tonelessly, his pose hadn't changed and he hadn't sipped his ale or removed the hand from under the table. His eyes were narrowed in response to the word games but equally he appeared willing to indulge them, more willing that a soldier perhaps should be.

“The answer is you have disharmony and that your analogy is flawed by its medium.” He explained. “A better one is to look at people. When they are given an opportunity for a better world and it is taken away and then offered again...is in any surprise some of them look suspiciously upon the benefits of that new world? Especially when it is such an illusion.”

There was a hint of irritation to the tone as if to say the man would far rather be speaking plainly but equally Larinthorpe was not ready to do so himself, he was after all unsure who this man represented and was happy to talk vague philosophical notions but unhappy to quantify yet; he knew where he stood with most groups in Nexus after all, but not all.