Look To The Past For Answers (Nim, Pre-Veil & GF'd)

[Azurite]

Season of Summer Era II
Era XIV Post Fractum
Month of Ioannes
3rd Brightening

The messenger was slightly unconventional as it was born on the wings of magic. The folded piece of paper flying through the air at high speeds from he hands of the sender. Branches trembled in the wake of the letter as it passed through them in the early morning mists. Apparently the sender was in need to speak with the intended immediately.

The magical letter not waiting for the front door to be let in found any opening within the walls of the Mynendil home to gain entry. Finding an open window on the main floor the letter skimmed inside, startling a servant, then rushing to its desired destination.

The destination being Heru Nimavel Mynendil, recently returned to the Elfhame from explorations abroad. Setting itself down on an open surface it waited with pulsing impatience for the Elf Lord to open and read its contents.

Heru Mynendil I have urgent need of your services, please come to Ashwood Manor as speedily as possible.

Eleändur Luviel

[Nimavel Mynendil]

Upon an elevated dais sat a throne fashioned by some of the finest elven handiwork in Silrosia. A pair of expanding wings extended outwards from both sides of the chair, wrapping inwardly as if preparing to completely engulf its carrier. The chair itself was wrought of silver and chiseled with imagery of the forests and the majestic beasts dwelling within it, and the armrests ended in two skulls clutched by the talons of the clan’s totem: a horned owl. And situated upon one of these armrests was an alabaster-hued hand possessed of many calluses; the other hand steadied the magical letter before him.

Eleändur Luviel…

The name was not unknown to the Lord of House Mynendil, twenty-first house of Silrosia, but it was nevertheless one that he was not intimately familiar with. Although the prestigious assassins of Syl’rosya shared a symbiotic relationship with House Luviel, they generally interacted with only the highest echelon of that family, namely Saran’tyr Luviel when he was alive and Siaren Luviel in the aftermath of the former’s demise.

An orb of acidic magical energy suspended above the elf lord’s hand, melting the edges of the enchanted letter until it was nothing more than a memory. Immediately dispelling the Acid Sphere afterwards, the assassin sighed deeply and rose to his feet only because any trace of the parchment was no longer available –at least not in this plane of existence anyway.

And then he was off.

Swift like the horned owl by which House Mynendil was modeled after, the elfin lord progressed through the shadows of Silrosia with the gracefulness of one who had endeavored on this particular route before. It was a secretive course that only the assassin treaded, and that was because it included several backtracks to complicate the designs of any wishing to follow him. Silent like the shadows, it was not long until the silhouette of Ashwood Manor loomed into view, but the Lord of Mynendil did not perceive it from the front; no, he was already arriving from the hidden entrance from the back –the entrance that only he, Ly’sarion, and the Luviels themselves knew about.

Coming to a steady gait as he entered, the assassin’s hands disappeared beneath the thick folds of his ebony cloak as he melted into the shadows, in the same area where he always awaited those who summoned him.

[Azurite]

"Welcome Heru." A muscular voice came from the right of Nimavel. The voice accompanied by the form of the Luviel that had summoned him, Eleändur. His hands were hidden within the wells of his billowing robe sleeves, his eyes half lidded. "I am pleased that you have come so quickly, I was unsure as to the way this worked having never had need of your 'services' prior to now." Nodding his pony tailed head he turned indicating that Nim should follow.

Keeping ahead of Nimavel as the two of them walked the halls of Ashwood in silence. Passing notably the few rooms that Nimavel usually held audience with Saran'tyr and then Siaren. Eleändur had no reason to use the rooms of the lord of the house, he had his own and he intended to use them.

Wandering up to the fourth level of the house into a wing that was overgrown with plants compared to the rest of the manor. Vines crept along the stone and oak walls as flowers burst in odd shapes along the baseboards. This was the wing of the house that Eleändur called his own, a wing that not many trod.

"Inside please." Issuing the command as they came to a dark stained door that he held open.

Once inside Nimavel would notice a drastic change from the hallway to the room. The room was bare, no plantlife, no light, nothing, just two plain wooden chairs sat facing one another in the center of the room. "Please sit." Himself moving to the chair on the right and seating himself.

"I trust that you are aware of the plight that grips our fair city?" He began once Nimavel had himself been sat. "The power of our mages useless as we scramble to find a reason for this. Not even the members of the Aesoteric Circle, the few of us left, have been able to come up with a solution." His hands coming together as his elbows rested on the arms of the chair.

"This is where you of course come in and to the reason I have brought you here. I have, no the Circle, has need of your many talents Nimavel of Mynendil. You will be given a task that most would say impossible, but we of the Circle have faith that you will accomplish. I must know that you will not divulge any of what is said here or of what you find while on task from us, only then will I tell you what you need to know." Eleändur was of course sure that Nimavel would not do such a thing, but it was for the sake of Aesoteric Circle that he asked the question.

[Nimavel Mynendil]

Raven hair spilled over the assassin’s slender shoulders as he bowed to the materializing Eleändur Luviel, an elf whom Nimavel was only vaguely familiar with. As the Heru Mynendil was normally summoned by Siaren himself, a plethora of curiosities surfaced to the assassin’s mind when considering the Heru Luviel’s absence and his replacement by the Aesoteric Mage.

House Mynendil and House Luviel primarily convened in response to the direst of circumstances as determined by the latter, and thus it was ordinarily Siaren who personally confided in Nimavel to maintain a certain level of discreteness. Henceforth, for Eleändur to have requested the assassin’s presence indicated that whatever was disconcerting House Luviel was already known to the rest of the family –or perhaps even to Silrosia as a whole?

As participating in perfunctory conversation was not the assassin’s forte, he subsequently refrained from commenting on the mage’s ambiguity. For whatever reason that it was Eleändur and not Siaren who greeted him was beyond the elf lord’s concern; he was more interested in learning the purpose behind the request.

Walking beside Eleändur like a ghost in elfin form, the assassin’s hands remained hidden beneath the outer layer of his apparel, a flowing obsidian mantle bearing the horned owl insignia of House Mynendil. He mentally noted the specific course that he and Eleändur followed, one that Nimavel normally avoided to circumvent detection. As House Mynendil and House Luviel shared a relationship limited to the shadows of their clandestine meeting area, the elf lord was unaccustomed to traveling the greater parts of Ashwood Manor –and particularly this sector of the mansion. It wasn’t that he was disallowed from; it was simply that he didn’t care to.

After ensconcing in the chair across from the Aesoteric Mage, the elfin lord’s lavender gaze settled unblinkingly on Eleändur, meeting the wizard’s stare as he imparted a terse nod in response. Although he’d only recently returned from business endeavors that had taken him outside of Elfhame, the elf was acutely aware of the late magical deficiencies faced by the city’s spellcasters.

And so the Aesoteric Circle was unable to solve the conundrum behind this phenomenon?

Considering the competency of that revered lot, the Heru Mynendil was skeptical to believe that he could provide answers where affluent mages had failed unless, of course, this was not the task that would be assigned to him. Regarding Eleändur with emotionally indecipherable eyes, the assassin conceded another nod, his interest evidently riveted.

“So be it.”

He said, agreeing to Eleändur’s terms of secrecy. And thus he waited, patiently, for the Aesoteric Mage to continue.

[Azurite]

"Good." Eleändur nodded his long haired head to Nimavel. "We have within our possession a very magical artifact, one crafted long ago by a member of the Anulindreal house. The crown was to be placed upon the brow of the last member of elven royalty, Moonstone ap Silrosian. You know the story of course, but there has been little knowledge about this crown and the purpose of it. This is where you come in Heru." Pausing to swallow so as to lubricate his throat.

"You are to travel to the province of Enamoria, there you will go to the Forest of the Stone Circle. In the northern part of the forest you will find a forgotten battlefield were one of the Princes soldiers last stands was fought. You will look for any bit of information you can find as I doubt that any have truly looked, except of course the usual scavengers."

"You have choices in how to get there. You may travel there on foot, which may take far too long. Travel by one of the Rocs that House Ryn'baer has agreed to allow you to use as a favor owed to our family. Or you may choose to travel the pathways of the arcane." The Luviel waited for his response as if he was in some great rush.

[Nimavel Mynendil]

Depositing his chin between his index finger and thumb, the elfin lord stroked both sides of his lower jaw contemplatively as his lavender-flecked eyes continued to meet Eleändur’s own. Although not astonished by the magnitude of the situation, the Heru Mynendil was surprised by the subject of investigation: the Crown of Moonstone ap’Silrosan.

A number of questions subsequently surfaced to the assassin’s mind, but none of these were articulated into inquiries. His curiosity was overridden by his professionalism. He would do as required –no questions asked.

“I will leave immediately.”

Nimavel tersely replied, nodding faintly to indicate that he understood the Combine’s sense of urgency. A part of him naturally wondered why another, a scholar of history perhaps, would not be more effective an investigator of the ancient glade, but the Heru Mynendil confided in the Aesoteric Circle’s decision, that is, if they were fully aware of his prospective sojourn at all.

He would return with any information that he found.

“The arcane would be the swiftest so long as a similar way back was assured.”

[Azurite]

"Good. Speed is of the essence at this time, your return will be guaranteed by arcane means. It will be detailed in a missive that you will receive on the morrow. Go now Heru, return to your home and prepare yourself for your journey. Return here in the morning and seat yourself in the fountain courtyard." The Lord of Ikos stood then and took a few steps away from Nimavel. "You are doing a great service to your people and I thank you for that." He left the room then leaving Nim to his thoughts and actions.

The following morning Ashwood was covered in a heavy silver mist that flowed off the elvish gulf. It was chilly for the summer a strong breeze forcing its way through the streets of the Amethyst Court. Little activity could be seen through the streets as Nimavel made his way through secret paths towards Ashwood. There too in the home of the Eldar family little stirred, a few servants could be seen preparing the house for the day.

Once inside the Fountain Courtyard, the central yard of the keep, Nimavel would be greeted by the sounds of a few fountains. A large ornate fountain filled the center of the courtyard, its base a full twelve feet in diameter with a large aspen tree at its center causing the cascade of water. Situated in the corners of the courtyard were four smaller fountains, only six feet in diameter with a phoenix as the center pieces, the Luviel families totem.

"Welcome Heru Mynendil." A soft voice could be heard through the silver mist coming from the central fountain. Splashes could be heard as if somebody lounged within the cool waters of the giant fountain. "I'm pleased that you have come so early, it is better that we do this in secret while the rest of the house slumbers." Nimavel could hear a larger amount of water sliding off a body then the trace of a tall slender body coming towards him through the mist.

The voice belonged to Nayré, a child of the Telyri that Saran'tyr had given the rite of familial embrace. She had been one of the Phoenix Lords most gifted students and spent her days and most of her nights frolicking in the pools of the fountain court.

"Are you ready for your departure?"

[Nimavel Mynendil]

Lavender eyes batted open in the stillness of the morning, devoid of the cobwebs ordinarily garnered from a restful sleep. Rising upwards from the bed, the elf lord, still appareled in his garb from the previous brightening, alighted to the cold floor of Hillwillow Manor’s master bedroom. His violet eyes roamed the shadows to the equipment situated in the corner of the chamber, all of which he had assembled prior to this morning.

You are doing a great service to your people…

The Aesoteric Mage’s assurance resonated in the assassin’s mind as he accoutered his pale hands in the Claws of the Great Horn, a pair of enchanted gloves gifted to him by his father. Fitting his palms inside the masterfully crafted pieces as if they were a second skin, he continued to holster his gear about his persona, securing miniature bandoliers of throwing knives or shuriken around his thighs or arms. His ninja-to, an unsentimental sword that he utilized more so as a tool than a weapon, was slung across his back diagonally so that its ebony hilt poked over his left shoulder. Afterwards he slid on his hard leather armor and a pair of bracers that included elegantly fashioned hand-guards.

His swirling black cloak trailed in his wake as he departed from Hillwillow Manor.

Arriving at the appointed location on schedule, the assassin imparted a customary bow to the young daughter of House Luviel.

“Arwen.”

He said, his violet eyes affixing to her as he briefly regarded the grandiose fountain contained within the courtyard. As expected of the Second Elder Home, Ashwood Manor was stunning to the eye and an unparalleled specimen of aesthetic beauty. Few places in Elfhame could rival the premises of the Phoenix Clan, and the regal family withheld no expenses to assure that their facilities remained this way. Still, the Heru Mynendil did and always would prefer the shadowy haven that was Hillwillow Manor above all else.

“Yes. Let us be done with this.”

He agreed, nodding faintly as he drew both sides of his cloak closer together. The elf lord’s slender frame, enwrapped by his ebony mantle, braced in preparation for the forthcoming magical travel. He was still uncertain how Tanyre intended on bringing him back via the arcane channels but he knew enough of House Luviel’s resources to confide in their concrete promises.

And thus the assassin waited, patiently, for Sarantyr’s daughter to perform the necessary invocations and rituals that would expedite his venture across hundreds of miles to the Province of Enamoria and the mysterious forest that awaited him. What he would find, Nimavel was uncertain, but he would not come back without answers; that is why the Combine had tasked him with this vital mission. He would not fail.

[Azurite]

The Telera nodded her approval to the lord that he wished to get things moving along. "Just a few things before you go. You know how arcana works I assume? So we'll skip over that and get to the basics. I will attempt to teleport you as near to the forest as possible as I can as I have only been there through the use of maps. Though I will be aided in my endeavor by Eleandur who is a master of ikos and has cast runes to affect the success of my spell." Explaining to Nim as her eyelids closed for a brief moment as she slipped into clara with the speed of a master sorcerer.

"Secondly take this ring." Holding it in her hand she waited for Nimavel to take it. "The ring is enchanted so that you will be able to contact us when you are in need of pickup. All you have to do is activate the enchant and draw its power out, if you have done it correctly you will not blow up and the ring will glow red. Then all you have do is wait for one of us, either myself, my sister Alva, Nata'sia or Eleandur to find you." Explaining the purpose of the ring she stood back. The ring would fit perfectly on Nims middle finger of either hand, it was made of three separate bands, two of gold with the center one of silver, inlaid into the silver were four small rubies that would glow when activated.

"May Phedos guide your steps Master Mynendil." Raising her right arm she pointed at Nimavel for the briefest of seconds before turning her back and returning to the fountain. In that instant a wind began to blow around Nimavel, it didn't effect the world around it and barely touched Nim himself, yet it was there and it was powerful, the winds of magic that would take him to his destination in Enarmoria.

OOC: I'll create a separate thread in Enamoria and post in here when it's up.

[Nimavel Mynendil]

Accepting the ring with dexterous fingers, the elf lord slid the enchanted piece upon the fourth finger of his left hand, opposite of the Mynendil ring which he never removed from his other hand. Normally the Telera’s ring would have been relegated to another finger, but the Heru Mynendil had purposely left behind his wedding ring, knowing fully well that such intrinsic pieces could easily be tracked or remembered by one’s enemies.

Nodding to indicate that he understood the woman’s directions, the assassin patiently waited for the maiden to execute her spell. He did not ordinarily travel by magical means, but given the distance from Elfhame to Enamoria, the Lord of House Mynendil welcomed the change of pace. Again he wondered what he might encounter at the Forest of the Stone, but for whatever reason, the Aesoteric Circle had determined it to be crucial for their investigation, and the Heru Mynendil had been chosen for the delicate task. Of course it would have been easier if the Ikomancer had told him what to look for, but Nimavel suspected that even the mage did not know.

He did not bid the mage farewell with customary words, but rather with a simple, unenergetic nod; it was more than he would have given most people. As the tendrils of magical energy proceeded to envelop his form, the assassin closed his eyes, patiently waiting for the effects of the spell to take place. It would not be long now.