Chapter 5b. Matters at the Voraelin Estate.   Posted by Guildmaster.Group: 0
 GM, 150 posts
Wed 24 Mar 2010
at 08:23
5b. Matters at the Voraelin Estate
19th Harvester
Voraelin Estate

The weather was once again bright and windy, which made the perfect day to relax outside on the  open fields and bask in the glow of the sun. However, looking out ahead, one would be able to observe storm clouds brewing and the scent of an approaching rain was in the air.

The workers at the Vorelin Vineyard nevertheless continued with their work and the kitchens at the Estate was already preparing meals for the many mouths living and working at the Vorealin household.

Today, Hastor had sent his son, Auran off with his younger sibling Yorun to Aberhaven city to gather news. While Hastor knew it was a rough and violent time, Yorun had to start somewhere and with Maedlin out of the picture, at least for now, he had to start now.

Many things were happening now and Hastor knows the guild has to move quickly. With news that Varakzy was now awake, Hastor decided that the time had come for him to seek the help of The Seers.

This thread is for Brax, Yorgorov and Emeric

This message was last edited by the GM at 15:56, Thu 01 Apr 2010.

 player, 45 posts
Wed 24 Mar 2010
at 21:02
Re: 4b. Matters at the Voraelin Estate
Emeric enjoyed the chances to walk out in the vineyards, and out further into the less controlled environs of the estate. There seemed few worries here, although the loss he felt still lingered a little. This he tried to push away by taking his bow and seeking out game worthy of the hunt. That he never returned with any meat never seemed to concern anyone, at least as far as Emeric could tell. The rest of the time he listened to the talk of the household, and the few visitors that had arrived.

With the talk of the power vacuum, Emeric wore a concerned look for those that bothered to look, or could pick him out of the shadows. His thoughts were on the men he had seen at the festival, of their leader, and how they would likely take an interest in the lack of true power in the city. He doubted that many would counter their threat without a concerted effort, and he hoped that Cap and his Crew were not using the opportunity to extort and grow in power in the city. That thought sent a shiver down his back. He had been close to ridding the world of Cap not that long ago, and he regretted more than ever that his skills had deserted him at the moment of truth.

Emeric had spent only a limited time with Brax, but had found himself growing to like him. That he appeared to be a vagabond would have made him weary, especially with the Crew out to kill him, but the man seemed to break down his defences somehow. Wondering whether he had a link back to his own father, Emeric was careful to ask few questions, and simply listen out for any signs. That he was open with Brax, as much as he was willing in this time and age, was something he couldn't put his finger on. He had told Brax of his mothers early death, of his life with his aunt and uncle, and even some of this early life as a forrester, but only little gems, never anything of real import.
 player, 133 posts
 A bold highwayman
Fri 26 Mar 2010
at 23:37
Still Waters Run Deep
Brax sat atop a large boulder, idly tossing pebbles into a pond and watching the water-rings grow and widen, then fade away into nothingness. Such is life, yes? he found himself thinking. You toss a pebble in -- or, mayhaps someone else does -- and the ripples oft spread very damned wide . . . sometimes very much wider than one would have anticipated . . .

As the he gazed at the pond -- actually it might be thought of as a smallish lake -- a speckled trout rose to the surface and greedily gulped down a mayfly that had ventured to touch the water. Brax's thoughts raced back to the fish dinners -- and the absolutely heavenly sauces -- that he had enjoyed at Mera's cottage during his convalescence. Mayhaps I'll be dining on you before all is said and done, Master Trout, he thought smugly to himself.

"You seem quite accomplished with that bow," he remarked to one of his fellow guests who had introduced himself as "Emeric." The fellow had also opened up and spoken some about his family life. Brax nodded understandingly when Emeric had mentioned his mother's early death.

'Tis a hard thing, to lose one's parents," he muttered, staring out over the lake and watching the breeze make eddies and swirls on the waters. Especially since my own foolishness led directly to my father's death.

"I myself have only my brother left in my family," he added, rising to his feet and stretching his arms up over his head. There was still a little soreness in his left shoulder, but Mera's pampering had done wonders to very nearly restore him to full health.

Brax turned his full attention to Emeric. "Have you figured all this out? I mean, why we are here, and that 'mark' that we all supposedly bear? I must confess that I have learned damnably little, although," a hint of a smile played around his mouth for a moment, then he continued, "although I have been vigilant in attempting to establish some 'contacts' here on the estate -- men and women  whose tongues can mayhaps be loosened by a little gold."

Brax shrugged. "However, I must say that by and large I have found Lord Voraelin's retainers to be either very tight-lipped, or very loyal -- or, mayhaps both."

OOC: Even though all of the players know who Brax is, he is still known as "Enigma" to all, in-character. A man who has a price on his head can ill-afford to have his identity become known to any but the most trustworthy associates -- which, in-character, my dear friends, you are not . . . as of yet. ;-) Emeric, I have made a small assumption that you (IC) have volunteered your name to Brax. However I understand that might not be the case, in view of the fact that Brax has not revealed his own. Let me know if I need to edit Brax's post to delete that reference, and I shall cheerfully do so. ;-)

This message was last edited by the player at 00:19, Mon 29 Mar 2010.

Yorgorov Varakzy
 player, 92 posts
 Dark eyed poet
Sun 28 Mar 2010
at 01:08
Still Waters Run Deep Indeed
Yorgorov had awoken with the sunrise. Since his recovery at the Voraelin Estate he found that he slept little in the quiet and calm estate with it's rolling views and picturesque lakes and nearby woods, though this was perhaps as much to do with the absence of alchohol that usualy flooded his system rather than any poetic appreciation of his surroundings.

Yorgorov had taken to stroling the grounds, tring to clear his head and remember clearly the events of that night. Using the walking cane he had fashioned, he didn't move that fast, but then Yorgorov Varakzy had never been one to rush anywhere so it little inconvienienced him.

That morning he found himself  sitting in a small dip overshadowed by a large boulder by the pond - more a small lake really - going over the things that had led to this point. The letter, the mask, the girl, the masquerade, the creatures. The Word. As he reflected on all these a pebble splashed in to the water near by, rippling the watter around where it had impacted the otherwise calm surface of the lake.

Hmmm such is life he found himself thinking. You toss a pebble in -- or, mayhaps someone else does -- and the stone sinks in the deep. . . sometimes very much deeper than one would have anticipated . . .
 GM, 155 posts
Thu 1 Apr 2010
at 15:28
Re: Still Waters Run Deep Indeed
As Yorgorov sits by the lake, reflecting on his life up to now.  His looked into the water and considered how his current look and the weight he lost had been substantial. His hand ran up unconsciously to brush lightly at the wound that almost took his life.

Then, when his thoughts veered to consider the meaning of the Word, a sharp pain where his wound was caused him to double over in pain. Wincing, Yorgorov pressed against the healing wound, trying his best to staunch the pain as tears sprung to his eyes.

Looking up through blurry eyes, Yorgorov saw a sight that would astound him and most likely interest him enough to move him to action had it not been for the pain. There just standing... no, hovering above the waters of the placid lake a few meters away from him was a woman. A beautiful one, dark hair, smoldering eyes. She was just looking at him, expressionless. He didn't feel fear but instead, found that looking at her was rather calming.

But another wave of pain gripped him again and his other hand gripped the walking stick tightly as he wheezed. But when he looked back up, she was gone... and so was the pain in his gut.