-sorry

[This message has been edited by Undead Teddy (edited 12-11-2006 @ 09:46 AM).]

IC:

It was a day near the change of winter into spring. The crisp cold air of the morning was interrupted intermittently by the occasional shower as clouds passed overhead, remnants of the previous night's rainstorm. Out on the streets of the city, people were starting to go about their daily business, crafting goods, buying and selling at the market, and waking up to the new day. There had been some troubles in the past, not that long ago, in fact. The ancient evil that now and again came to dwell in the mountains to the north had been imprisoned once more beyond the circles of the material world. That had been a chaotic and uncertain time, before the now Prince Garin defeated this evil again, and the populace had generally expected the situation to become peaceful again. And it did, to a degree, but not entirely. The alliance between the northeastern Orcs and the southern Men against the Hylar continued more or less as it had been, and the Empire had the resources to fight it, they did, and many of those who fell in the battles far from the city were even revived again, the power of the Imperial Archmage having set forth whom the halls of the dead could not keep from the priests who could raise the dead. In Elendell, it was peaceful, and life could go on in the same way as it had with occasional interruption for thousands of years. And yet, most of the populace knew somebody close to them who had fought in the wars, many knew somebody who had died in the wars, including those who had died and come back. But the mages of the Empire who made this peace possible were not the only mages in the world who wielded the power that they did, and the people knew that. Evil might be imprisoned, but what tendrils might it still have yet within the waking world?

The city guard of Elendell was fairly zealous. The city had the wealth to maintain a fairly substantial number of guardsmen in addition to the levies of the Imperial Legion, and skill at arms was considered an art in its own. A guard of two-hundred in a city of twenty thousand was a fairly large number in told, although this did not count the garrison of the fortresses - both of them - that flanked the city's north side. That, and, of course, every able-bodied citizen in the entire city was a member of the militia, should an attack upon the city ever come.

The captain of the guard, for this reason, had the potential of a very large responsibility. Corim knew that in his heart - that if war ever came to Elendell's gates, it would be his task to raise the populace to battle, the very ones that were making their crafts and buying and selling goods at the marketplace this very morning - or, for that matter, studying in the University. But Corim did not imagine that he would be called upon to raise the militia today; this was about something different.

Aimienna, the daughter of the Emperor, intelligent, beautiful, kind, and well loved - especially by her husband Prince Garin - had left Corim a letter saying that she wanted to speak with him on a task that she hoped he would assist her in. She usually asked for things like this, rather than commanded them, and when she did give an order she stamped it with her Imperial seal. Otherwise, she just signed the letter with her name - no title, just her name, although nobody would mistake her signature for that of anybody but the Princess. It had something of a mesmorizing quality to it, as if it were some spell that she had learned, or devised, in her studies at the University and elsewhere. The letter had contained little specific: Aimienna was looking for somebody to help her with an 'infiltration job', wanting to get at an artifact in Jheridura, a city located a hundred leagues or so to the southwest across the plain, on the edge of the arid lands further to the southeast where the Sorcerer Kings of the Great Necromancer dwelt. There would 'likely be a fair bit of combat', she said. She didn't say what the artifact was, or why she wanted it, or whom it actually belonged to, although Lord Caradge, a powerful sorcerer in Jheridura whom Corim knew to be secretly aiding the Mannish side of the Alliance of Orcs and Men, was an obvious guess.

The meeting room of the city guard was located on the top floor in a tall building forming a great archway over the main south gateway into the city, before the Great Square in the center of the city. The room itself was higher than the city walls, and allowed viewing over them and over much of the city itself and of the mountains behind it, although this particular morning those mountains were enveloped in sullen clouds, and south of the city to the fields and woods that covered the vast plain in the shadow of the high peaks. Corim himself had little business this morning apart from the Princess' visit, which was hardly a chore: he had been friends with the woman for years, and she trusted him, probably the reason why she was coming to him to ask for help. The vagueness of the letter no doubt was in case it were intercepted. But she did like to keep secrets from her potential enemies, which were numerous enough: it was best if the enemy did not know, for instance, which military fronts had the Divine sanction that allowed the clerics to raise those fallen on the battlefield and which fronts did not. Aimienna much prefered to have an enemy waste time and resources slaughtering an army that could be revived from the dead afterwards than to suffer real losses that truly were lost.

Corim spotted Aimienna walking up the steps on the east side of the arch, as if she had been in the one of the Temples earlier in the morning, wearing her simple light-blue gown that he had seen her in several times. She would be up in a moment; he could either wait for her or go out to greet her.

[This message has been edited by Beren V (edited 12-11-2006 @ 09:59 PM).]

Corim's thoughts on the letter were already somewhat collected. He was no supporter of Caradge, and if his assumption was correct, he would have the opportunity shortly to make such a dislike clear to Caradge himself. But he did not want to undertake this mission just to inflict spite, but more as a favor to Aimienna, for he had no pleasure greater than serving her as directly as possible. At any rate, he would attend the meeting, having nothing important to accomplish at the moment.

On a day to day basis, he typically didn't have much he needed to accomplish, and thus he passed most of his time attempting some basic social interaction among those that were under his charge, some two hundred strong. He also spent a little time every day training, honing his instincts, strengthening his body, and applying his knowledge of the arcane arts.

It was this knowledge of magic, picked up through a full education, that set him off from his peers, and it was part of what made him their commanding officer. To them, he wasn't just Captain Nailo, but an elf, knowledgeable and respectable, empathic and skilled. They trusted him, and he trusted them, and it made him a better leader.

At any rate, when he spotted Aimienna, he immediately departed to accompany her to where they were to meet. He always enjoyed seeing her, and this time the hint of intrigue and future conceivable danger had him eager to get the meeting underway. If he went down to her now, they could finish the pleasantries by the time they got to a more suitable meeting place.

He descended the steps briskly, his cape trailing behind him and his silver armor shining in what light there was. He was dressed warmly, his cloak helping to insulate him and the clothing he wore under his armor protective but unrestrictive. The cold didn't bother him, but there was little reason to avoid a minor comfort that allowed him to devote his attention where it was more needed.

"Good day, Princess," he said to her, stopping a few paces short of her to offer a respectful bow. Even if she didn't like it, he wouldn't treat her any other way. "I hope that the dismal weather has less than dampened your high spirit?"

Aimienna stopped as she saw Corim coming down the steps, rattling and clanking in his armor. She could not hide a slight smile of amusement as she noted the formalities with which he usually attired himself. She waited for Corim to descend the steps and then greet her. She responded in kind with her own respectful bow, although hers was much easier because she had no gorget to collide with her equally nonexistent breastplate. "Good morning, Captain," she said, playing along with his ceremonial treatment of her by using his title as he had used hers, but with an informal flair to her voice quite unlike what she usually used in ceremonies. "I never thought the first rains of spring to be dismal, so no, I am not dampened. Moistened, perhaps," she flung her hair back and a few drops flew off of it, "but not dampened." Indeed, her gown was a bit damp around her shoulders.

Then she turned more serious. "Perhaps we should go back up and discuss this?"

OOC: Perhaps this armor doesn't clank as much as you seem to think, with an armor check penalty of only -1 .

IC:
The captain smiled at her words. "By all means. If it suits you, my lady, we may make use of the meeting room within the archway above us," he said. "I am, I must say, somewhat eager to discuss the business at hand."

He approached her, then escorted her up the rest of the stairs and through the corridors necessary to reach the meeting room. It was a fairly nice room, for something used by the city guard, but its arragements clearly tended towards the martial aspect of elven lifestyle. The elves revered the art of swordplay, and all received at least basic training with the longsword, shortsword, bows, and the rapier, favored for its precision and deftness.

Corim waited for Aimienna to sit before doing so himself, carefully manuevering his sheathed hand-and-a-half sword off to the side to avoid sitting on it, but not going so far as to remove the sheath from around his waist, as he would do if he expected to be sitting for an extended period of time. He did take his darkwood shield off his back to prop it up against the table--its bulk made sitting somewhat uncomfortable, but his armor was well-fit and felt almost perfectly natural to wear.

The head of the city guard carefully studied Aimienna's countenance, attempting to find some hint at the nature of what she was to tell him and wanting to understand fully when it was said. He had always admired her beauty, but that wasn't the reason he attended her whenever she would allow it. It was more a sense of duty and peerage, both of which were rather significant parts of his character.

OOC: Minor character dictation which I assume is fine.

IC:

Aimienna watched Corim as he waited to seat himself until she did, and they quietly sat down together, she having no difficulty sliding her rapier to the side as she was not wearing any other weapons large enough to get in the way. It was always difficult to tell with her exactly what she was thinking when whe was planning things, not because she was trying to hide her emotions, but because she was usually thinking about so many things at once that parsing out why she felt confidence, or concern, or some minor degree of amusement or playfulness, at any given moment, was just about impossible. Corim saw all of these things in her face as he looked at her, all at once. His heart told him that what she was about to propose was something she expected to be dangerous and yet at the same time safe, however he should keep that in his mind.

After sitting down, Aimienna drew a breath, and spoke. "I hope you will excuse my lack of detail in my letter, but some of these things are best kept quiet, you know." She smiled, and then continued. "You know of Lord Caradge, of course, and probably guess already that this is about him."

She drew a small piece of paper from an unseen pocket in her gown, unfolded it, and handed it to him. "This is from Prince Diarkan." It was a letter, written on yellowing parchment with a hastily-written but flowing script in the language known colloquially as the Common speech, a hybrid between a bastardized and some said debased form of Hylarin and some of the local Mannish tongues. It was written in black ink with an almost brush-like pen, not a fine quill, and spots of ink here and there augmented the feeling of haste and anxiety that the letter contained. It was, however, signed by Prince Diarkan of Jheridura at the bottom and stamped with his Princely seal. The contents of the letter read as follows:

To Lord Arkini, Emperor and Protector of the Hylarin Tribe and of the peoples who swear under their colors:

I regret to inform you that I cannot choose any other course of action save to declare war upon your Empire. Nonetheless, I beg for your aid: within my city dwells a lord of sorcery who has revealed to my people the Warrior made of Jade, and he has used it to call upon my people either through enchantment or through terror, which I cannot tell, to join in the alliance with the States of Midor and the Baron Ashershow and by extension the Orcs of the Grey Skull and the Wizards of the Worm in their war against the Empire. If I do not conform to their wishes, I shall be deposed and a more "favorable" ruler set in my place. I fear that such may happen anyway, if enough time is allowed to pass. Already the levies of the countryside and of the city are marching to the east where they will join with the other armies for raids upon your southern reaches. For the sake of mine own subjects, I can only wish it had not come to this.

I ask therefore that if you can, seek your own mages' council in the way best to rid my kingdom of this lord of sorcery who overrules my authority over my city, or at least rid him of this Warrior of Jade so that I may call my citizens back, and make peace with your Empire once again. And I beg that you make haste if you can, so long as you will succeed in ridding us both of the real enemy whom we share, before the blood of Jheridura or of Elendell is spilt for something neither of us wishes or seeks.

Yours in the hopes of your mages' success,
Prince Diarkan Goldshield, Lord of Jheridura

As Corim finished reading it, Aimienna said in a matter-of-fact manner "I suppose that the object I seek to accomplish is clear: relieve Caradge of the Jade Warrior."

She paused for a moment, to let Corim digest the letter a moment more. "I can only assume that you have many questions to ask, and many of them I intend to answer, not the least of which is how I intend to do this, or what help from you I ask, but before I go on, perhaps you might share any feelings you have on this so far."

A look of interest and curiosity came across Corim's face as he finished reading the letter. He, like most elves, hated war unless it was fought for the right purposes. Elves had a bit of a disadvantage in a long-term campaign, for they had no new generation of conscripts every couple of years as the more short-lived races did.

If any elf died without cause, it was a death that should not have taken place. That was part of the reason Corim trained as hard as he did. If he became skilled enough, he could save others from war and death. It was also the reason he chose the city guard. It was the most direct way of protecting people.

"While I am curious as to your plan, Princess," he said gently, "I can tell you on the instant that I would not refuse your offer if all the world stood against me. Like you, my lady, I will not stand by and let causeless war be incited while I have still the means of preventing it."

There was some conviction in his voice, but he didn't say things forcefully. He didn't want to appear headstrong, only dedicated. And that was what he was.

Aimienna took a breath, obviously a little surprised and at the same time a little concerned. "I think that might be rash, until you know a little more about this thing." She reached inside of her gown and drew out another sheet, this one of paper, and obviously enchanted the way it seemed to ripple with color as she moved it through the air. She set it down on the table, but did not slide it across to Corim just yet.

"There are people of our ilk living in Jheridura, of course; they are not out of reach of the influence of our culture there, which may be reason for some of the leaders elsewhere to seek to make war, for they have ways of life of their own. But the artifact was known to us before this letter arrived, although even Iunar knew not what it portended. But when this letter arrived, Iunar, myself, and Mistress Laswen at the University tried to dig up as much on the Jade Warrior as we could. What we found did not assuage us.

"The Elmori sect long ago made a number of statues out of jade in the honor of Vairë the Lady of Time. Within their libraries they left texts with a detailed description of how to make their artifacts, including all of the elements that had to be assembled for their Arts to be properly made, including littanies of each of the artifacts that they did make. Among these artifacts was a statue carven in a very stylized king's likeness, but with the proper calling, it could be given life to become something that I guess we might call a golem. This was the Jade Warrior, or so it was named."

Aimienna slid the sheet of paper across the table. Upon it was, sketched in fine-quilled green ink, a drawing of a statue of a seated king upon a stone. The king's sandals came down beneath his robes, and his arms and hands were set upon his knees. His face, however, was frightful to behold: he had a circlet with intricate designs carved upon it, set upon large eyes, a flattened nose with what looked like it might have been fire carven from his nostrils, and a wide mouth with teeth showing.

Aimienna continued. "There was nothing in the library that said how many of these statues were made, or when; there may be only one. We cannot be sure of its powers either, when it is brought to life, but," Her finger traced the intricate designs on the circlet, and on the robes. "These markings give us some clues, as does the fact that it's jade: I should guess it to be able to do something with light or may be of lightning, possibly invoking something using light, but I cannot say what, exactly. The book does give us knowledge of the power of this artifact, however: a Dragon might survive its wrath for its might is like a strong giant's, but only the greatest of Dragons might destroy it, for it is strong against near all forms of attack.

"I cannot say where Caradge got it. Among the ingredients necessary for the creation of any of the Elmori artifacts is that they must be made by the heir of the Elmori bloodline, and that line died out centuries ago, and the Lord of the Dead does not set their spirits free, so ressurection is not an option. So Caradge must have found it somehow; it is only about the size of a man when inanimate, so I guess he could have transported it fairly easily.

"As for how he uses it: as you know, all artifacts of great power or mighty warriors or spells of the Music upon reality can be used to call strength of arms to one's society. I should gather that as is typical for Humans that Caradge is calling upon a density of people living within his city, luring them to him or terrifying them by the virtue of his having this artifact. We have done the same with our Great powers, of course, although our method is more often to increase the growth rate of our people, both Elven and not, or even then to justify to the Lord of the Dead our use of the raising and ressurecting of our fallen. But as you also know, it indeed is this, our Great Arts and use of the Music, that has allowed us the numbers to fight our wars and win them in the past and in the present, and the Archmages and their pupils are responsible for our culture's prosperity, if not our survival. The mages are vulnerable to attack by the Jade Warrior, for it can be used in ways other than conventional warfare, and if the mages are defeated or weakened, the entire Empire will suffer the brunt when the Legions begin to suffer losses from attrition that cannot be replaced.

"Caradge, I suppose, may have made a mistake in revealing this artifact to us, for he has, before he knows it, I think. There is a secret within the arts of the Elmori that should allow us to steal it with a minimum of difficulty, as long as we know which artifact it is, for certain. That was accomplished by a scry two nights ago," she said.

Aimienna reached forward and tapped the sketch firmly. A ripple of color flowed over the page, revealing an image, like a painting but in a perfect likeness, an illusion of the statue, sitting in a hallway illuminated by firelight. "That is just an illusion, but we know where it is, and we know for certain what it is," the princess added. "The enchantment, for it is indeed Art that remains in active form even after its setting forth, should allow a skilled party to infiltrate Caradge's mansion and bag the statue with minimal risk of it coming to life while we do so, as well as provides resources - and favor - and personel - for the aquisition of the artifact. Caradge obviously will have some defenses, likely of various kinds, but again, this Great Art should help us succeed in getting past these obstacles, and once we get it back here, we should not need to worry about Caradge making it wake up on us here. Indeed, if we wished, we could then use it against him."

Aimienna leaned back for a moment in her chair. "So, what I would like you to do is to help assemble a company whom you trust that would help me go and get this thing. For reasons that will become clear, I will myself be coming on this quest, but first I need to make sure some other things happen: I need to organize a distraction for the alliance we are at war with, for example, so that they don't get in the way, although I hope that we can hit them before Jheridura's soldiers get to the front, so we only wind up killing soldiers from states who are already our enemies."

[This message has been edited by Beren V (edited 12-13-2006 @ 07:43 PM).]

OOC: Hmmm... a construct with lightning traits. Let us hope it doesn't turn into a Marut (the Inevitable) when activated.

IC:
Corim listened with growing interest and fascination. He was an educated man, especially for a soldier, and matters of history and artifact-level magic were of great curiosities to him. A few times he thought about saying something, but ultimately found all the answers he needed included in her words.

With the statue's location and likeness known, it was simply a matter of assembling a team capable of retrieving it. He was surprised, however, when Aimienna said that she herself would be going along. "Are you sure it is wise for you to risk yourself so, princess?" he asked uncertainly, concerned for her welfare.

"I have a few ideas already concerning the allies I will ask to aid us. Among a clan of centaurs I have an acquaintance that I trust to bring a valuable skill set to an adventuring team. There are others within these walls that will be more than willing to help, I feel, and find them I will," he said decisively.

OOC: Heh, interesting thought. But remember: Aimienna is giving you her educated guesswork, and she did suggest that it might be light-based and not lightning-based. And also, Aimienna might be dead wrong, and it's earth-based or something (jade is a rock, after all)!

IC:

Aimienna smiled confidantly. "I am safer, I think, being part of this than not. Great spells that create parties to realize what is made to be have ways of doing that, if used correctly." She relaxed her cheek muscles slightly. "Who were you thinking of asking? I have... somebody who will join us as well, but I will have to introduce you to her later."

[This message has been edited by Beren V (edited 12-13-2006 @ 11:32 PM).]

OOC: Most of this is only what I gleaned from a quick reading of a couple of bios.

IC:
Corim thought for a moment. "The Centaur's name is Ammeen-Addab Sandrunner, as outlandish a name as any. Also, I have an acquaintance who's a skilled sorcerer, a gnome, in fact, called Muldro," the elven warrior said. "There's also a somewhat recluse man who resides in and near the gardens of the city, a cleric who goes by Telepnur, who may provide an excellent addition to such a party.

"I guess what the party is in want of is someone truly adept at a specialized skill set such as one of...I don't like to say thievery, but more 'bypassing mechanical obstacles,' if you will, and doing things unseen," he decided, trying to choose his words. "I don't know if you know of such a person or if you would tend to associate with them if you did...."

He let his voice trail off, raising his eyebrows and waiting for Aimienna's answer.

At the mention of Ammeen's name, Aimienna suddenly frowned, furrowed her eyebrows, and wrinkled her nose in an expression of surprise and bewilderment. She patiently waited for Corim to finish speaking before adding in herself. "Ammeen-Addab Sandrunner is a centuar? I must be thinking of somebody else; the person I remember is human-like but large, a half-ogre or something like it perhaps, but more comely and definitely not orc-like, so I would guess it is not ogre. And Muldro, yes, and Telpenar... I would not call Telpenar reclusive, but he definitely could be a great help.

"There are a couple of people who fit the roll you describe, I think, the cloak-and-dagger role. One of them you have met before: Iona is her name. If you don't remember, she's a halfling I have hired to find holes in the security of the palace - and very good at it, too. The other, well, you haven't met her yet; she's more of a bandit-type. Tétirë is her name. I'm sure you will like her just fine," she said with a smirk. She paused for a moment. Then she added "Now, there is a tribe of centuars that lives in a woodland on the way to Jheridura; we've been allies of them in the past. Their help could be useful, throwing pursuit off our trail once we have gotten the statue in particular. They've got their own share of problems, though. We helped them out a while back, but these days I think the northern Orcs are giving them as much trouble - or more - as they are giving us. Did you mean that tribe, or were you thinking of somebody else?"

"Ah! My mistake," Corim said, "you are correct. Mr. Sandrunner is a half-giant that is a member of this very city guard. I am, however, familiar with a few centaurs of the tribe you speak of."

He smiled appreciatively when Aimienna provided him with some names that filled in the empty slots in his imaginary roster, which still, at this point, relied on the acceptance of everyone he intended to ask. "It sounds to me like we have a plan. Since this quest relies heavily on its completion fitting within a certain stretch of time, I would like to get started immediately, if I have your leave, Princess."

Aimienna's eyes widen at the mention of Ammeen-Addab's race, and then return to her more thoughtful normal (already large) size. "A half-giant - so that's what he is. I was not aware that was even possible. Obviously whatever kind of giant he has in his background, it is a trustworthy one, or else he himself is not hampered by his ancestry." Then she pushes her chair back and smiles. "Yes, you have leave. I think we should try to meet at the conference room in the Institute of Physics at the university at eight in two days, if that is reasonable-"

Bang! Bang! Bang! The sound of a knock upon the door, hard and fast, interrupts the woman just as she finishes her sentence. A moment later, the voice of Yestin Hallidhal, one of Corim's lieutenants on the northeast quadrant of the city, echos through the door. "Corim, are you in there? The voice is anxious and excited, and a little impatient - something Corim knows Yestin sometimes gets, especially when something happens that he is not familiar with the procedures for. But he sounds a little more agitated than usual.

Aimienna quickly reaches for Prince Diarkan's note and folds it back inside of her gown.

Corim glanced apologetically at Aimienna for the interruption. "That meeting time is suitable," he said. "If you'll excuse me."

He swiftly rose from his chair, leaving his shield where it was and crossing the room in a few broad strides. He reached the door and opened it and regarded Lieutenant Hallidhal. "Do you need me, Lieutenant?" he asked, making sure to position himself just off-centered in the the doorway so Yestin would be sure to see Aimienna at the table, as a subtle way of showing his slight disapproval of the man's means of entering the scene.

Aimienna leaned around Corim to get a better look at the lieutenant, giving him a friendly smile as he saw her.

Yestin seemed oblivious to Corim's sublte gesture, he looked at Aimienna and a slight smirk forms on his face for an instant, and then turned back to being serious. He then notices Corim's stern look and salutes him, hopefully acknowledging that he did not mean to intercede.

"Sir, there has just been an attack - of sorts - on the northwest district, around the library." He lowered his hand from saluting. "Some sort of magical war game, apparently, but one potentially deadly to the losers if they lose the game. No casualties are reported, sir, and it doesn't look like there are going to be any. But everybody in the area is quite agitated."

Corim was then aware of a slight scrape on the floor behind him as Aimienna rotated her chair by sliding it so that she had a full view of Yestin. She continued looking on intently.

Corim looked thoughtful. He had heard of but never participated in such arcane games--he thought that they were somewhat below what magic should be used for. Though there had been games of Conjurer's Chess that he had found interesting to watch, he didn't approve of most of these. He wasn't fond of anything that created disorder in the city, though.

"I had better head down there myself," he said. "Thank you for the notification, Lieutenant. If you wish, you may accompany me, but it's likely that the simple presence of city guard will dissuade any potential violence."

He then turned back to Aimienna. "Again, if I may have your leave, my lady." He turned and headed out the door, grabbing his shield on the way, and down the steps, making his way towards the corner of town that Yestin had indicated. The city guard was somewhat respected in this city, so he hoped his presence would be enough. He hated to have to draw his sword against anyone he didn't need to.

Aimienna made a simple gesture indicating that he had her leave. Yestin went with Corim, leaving Aimienna behind them. She had no obvious escorts with her, but then, in a simple gown like that, she was hardly high-profile. The point was accentuated when Yestin asked as they walked "So, if I may ask, who is your, ah, friend?"

The city of Elendell is divided into ray-like districts radiating out of a nothern 'center', containing the palace, and flanked by two great fortresses on either side of the palace, on the north wall on top of low alluvial escarpments leading up into the mountains behind the city. Each of the rays are separated by strands of parkland, making Elendell an extremely large city in terms of area relative to its total population, but also a very pretty city, with orchards and gardens taking up perhaps a third of the area within its walls. The northwest district, below the western and greater of the two fortresses, contains the city library as well as other places of import.

When Corim and Yestin arrived in the afflicted area, they found the streets deserted apart from members of the guard who were themselves acting skittish, but with the unsettling feeling of people watching them through the windows. The only sign of a struggle was an overturned peach cart in the center of a street, fresh produce littering the causeway and rolling into the gutters. There was no blood or any other sign of a struggle, but the windows were shut up with curtains drawn and people hiding behind them, looking out while trying to hide their bodies from the street, as if they expected a firefight to erupt inside of the street. Many of them clutched what were no doubt hidden weapons. It felt tense, but tense in a way that most people were hoping that it would blow over and get less tense.

Corim gave a slight chuckle at Yestin's ignorance. He realized a moment later what it had looked like to the Lieutenant, and it made him chuckle a little more. "Lieutenant, I guess I was wrong to assume that you would recognize even someone with the local fame of Princess Aimienna," he said lightly. "But indeed, that was she."

The captain of the city guard raised an eyebrow, then dropped it again when he took a look around the scene of the disturbance. He didn't see anything amiss other than an overturned peach cart, but the way that people were looking around and at each other put him a little on edge.

Corim unsuspiciously pulled his cloak back behind his shoulders so that, if he was suddenly thrust into a combat situation, it wouldn't get in his way. He put his left hand casually on the hilt of his bastard sword and, relying on people's ability to recognize him as a ranking officer in the city guard, asked generally, "Would somewhat care to explain to me what's going on here?"

He took a good look around while he asked this, trying to get a better sense of what people were thinking and trying to spot something further amiss. (Spot 8+3=11, Sense Motive 15+12=27) He also tried to link up this incident with what he knew of this part of town, hoping for a clue there. (Knowledge (local) 13+9=22)

Yestin reacted with surprise but not astonishment when he learned who the woman was. He nodded, a silent gesture of understanding: he had not been aware that this was a meeting with somebody important.

Corim was able to sense that a lot of the populace were in fact in buildings, and probably many more were hiding but he could not see them, distracted perhaps by his perplexion. No doubt they were armed - most of the populace of Elendell was, but it was impossible for him to tell how many there were, or what they were armed with, or who they were. He was able to get a very good hunch of what they were worried about, however: people were hiding and ready in case of another attack. Nothing unusual about this district in particular would have triggered this reaction, although the location of the library may have meant something. The library is one of the more important cultural centers in Elendell; most of the people are highly literate and treat it with respect and visit it frequently. The presence of the library might have had something to do with the locale of the attack.

Since there were no civilians on the street, the first person who Corim could address his question was another guard. The young elven guard saluted immediately the moment he recognized the guardcaptain. "Sir! I do not understand, sir, but somebody forced us into some kind of war game, and the winner of the game was supposed to decide if the loser should actually die or not. I don't know how, sir!" he answered."Most of the people are hold up in their houses, in case who ever started the last bout tries to start a new one..."

Corim furrowed his eyebrows. Things weren't exactly making a whole lot of sense. "Where are the ones who started this now? Did they flee the premise, or are they present still?"

OOC: Sorry this post is so short, but I haven't much to say.

The guardsman shook his head. "We have no idea of even who started it all. Somebody cast a spell, and that was all, and dragged everybody else in. We don't know if he is still here or not, and even if he is, we have no way of telling him from anybody else."

A door opened of one of the houses, and an elven woman with chestnut brown hair with a green bodice and a white slit skirt peeked out. She obviously held one hand behind the door. She quietly watched the three soldiers with an anxious look on her eyes.

Corim frowned. If no one saw anything, then how could he investigate the disturbance? The only people who could help, obviously, were the ones who were involved. When a door opened and a citizen peeked out, Corim immediately headed that way. If she had witnessed the commotion, he would at least have a starting place.

The elven captain approached her and nodded his head courteously. "If I may inquire, ma'am, did you see what took place here? May I ask you to relate the events to me?"

The woman cautiously gave Corim a good look as he approached, tensed and holding an arm behind the door. As Corim neared, she began to shrink back, but then held herself. A nondescript voice from inside said something, but Corim could not make it out. The woman briefly turned her head inside, mouthed something, and then turned back to Corim. She watched him suspiciously, wanting to relax, and then did relax after Corim spoke, although not completely. She peered further around the door, and looked up the street, in doing so revealing the half-mace in her other hand. Satisfied that there were no dangers up the street, she shrank back halfway into the doorway, her dark green eyes staring into Corim's as she answered him.

"I can try," she said. "Somebody, somehow, started some sort of a war-game, except it was not really a game. It was every person for his or her self, and there could be only one survivor. It was all imaginary, I think, except that the winner of the imaginary game could have killed, actually killed, losers that he or she wanted to. And I think if you killed somebody in this 'game', you could have a say on whether or not they actually died or not, too. I do not know how I knew the rules, but everybody did. It must have been some spell or some such. And I don't know where it started, only that I was in the 'area of effect', I think it is called."

OOC: Sounds curiously like that spell you invented that you wanted to try in a Giant Trilogy combat simulation, Beren.

IC:
Corim listened with interest as the suspicious woman told her tale. It seemed somewhat inhumane, casting such a spell, deciding who would live and who would die. "I assume that this man, then cast this spell from concealment and thus is unidentifyable?" he asked. It made sense, anyway.

He thought back over his studies, trying to remember if he had ever heard of a spell such as that (Spellcraft 12+13=25, Knowledge [arcana] 5+9=14). If he could remember how difficult it was to cast such a spell, perhaps he would have a good idea of what he was dealing with here. He was moderately certain that there weren't any terribly powerful spellcasters in Elendell, but he wasn't absolutely sure (Knowledge [local] 3+9=12).

OOC: It's very similar, yes.

IC:

The woman shrugged, still gripping her mace in her hand behind the door. She shook her head. "Whoever did it was concealed from me, at least. I did not get to see very much, however."

From the woman's description, Corim figured that there were a number of spells that she could be referring to, all of them fairly obscure, but not so obscure that powerful mages could not know at least one of them, and also priests who personified deities of war could also cast things like this. Certainly there were mages and priests in Elendell powerful enough to cast spells like this one: Corim's old master Iunar, whom he had studied under, together with Aimienna, being one, and in the temples on the opposite side of the city there were priests who were at least powerful enough, although Corim did not know if there were any who were both powerful enough and whose granted powers were of the type necessary to call upon such magics. Corim had no doubt that Iunar knew spells like this one and could cast them, and probably did use modified versions - spells without the possibility of actually killing somebody - in the army's military training games. However, Iunar was not the sort who would do something like this; it would cause anxiety, obviously cause anxiety. Corim had no doubt that other powerful mages of Iunar's school also could cast spells like this also, but they surely would realize that something like this would cause a disturbance, would they not? This left Corim with the other, more unsettling, possibility, and the only one that was really likely.

This was a terrorist attack.

Indeed, a potentially very effective form of attack, because, as he had just guessed and asked the affected woman, the caster would easily get away with it by casting it from a scroll or something similar while out of sight, and the zone of effect could easily pass through walls and other obstructions to vision. The inhabitants of Elendell would, for the most part, assume the best of somebody they did not know, realizing that another citizen would most likely be another innocent just as themselves, and would likely thus waive death for the people they 'killed'. Because of a simple numbers game, the winner would likely act similarly. As a result, the attack would be highly unlikely to actually cause any real deaths, but this also meant that it could be cast with almost no danger to the caster either. And some people would likely be paranoid, who would assign death to the defeated, and this was likely to be more the case than before in subsequent attacks, subsequent attacks that, realistically, the city guard by itself would have a great difficulty of stopping.

What unsettled Corim the most, however, was the seemingly all-encompassing nature of the attack. The spells that he knew of were generally not that difficult to resist, and usually had fairly limited zones of influence, most often no more than a forty-foot radius. There should have been people who were in the area and who were unaffected, but there weren't. More, the area was larger than a forty-foot radius - much larger, at least ten times the normal area, probably more, and likely affecting a thousand citizens. All of this reminded him of some kind of the true powers used by the great mages and priests of shaping reality, what were colloquially known to adventurers as 'Great Magic'. This suggested somebody truly powerful, with great resources, and possibly not even somebody not even in Elendell when it took effect. The other alternative, if it was conventional magic, well, Corim didn't really understand the capabilities of the really powerful conventional magic; he knew what spells like Wish and Temporal Stasis did, but did not know where the limits of spells of that power could be. So traditional arcane magic could not be ruled out, but if so, then this was big, very big.

GM:

The spell I wanted to test (and still want to test) in a simulations thread was one of several examples of spells that exist with this theme. One obvious variable is the rules for combat: that version, for example, gives you pistols, and then forces you to use them. Corim knows that there are multiple versions with different rules, all ranging in level between 4 and 6 (the larger ones having larger areas of effect), that all work upon this theme. Some of the details in this case could obviously be gotten fairly easily, i.e. the woman would know what weapons she was availed, for example. Judging from the area of effect, Corim guesses that it was higher than 6th level, assuming that it was lesser magic at all.

[This message has been edited by Beren V (edited 12-23-2006 @ 00:44 AM).]

Corim's musings were unsettling, but they likely would be what got him to the bottom of this, in combination with what he could find out from other people. A sixth level spell required a wizard of a noticeably greater skill level than he, even if they had completely devoted themselves to the study of arcane magic.

This was potentially a dangerous scene. It occured to him to ask the guard he had spoken with earlier to summon some reinforcements, but decided against it. More troops would only alert the culprit, if he were indeed still nearby, and cause him to flee. If at all possible, Corim would like to catch him or her.

He focused again on the woman he was speaking with. "If you would please answer another few questions, ma'am, I'd be very much in your debt," he said. "You were, you said, thrust into this...game? Can you tell me what it was like? Were you provided with a weapon and forced to use it? Was there someone in the game who seemed to be stronger than everyone else?"

The woman sighed. "I can't tell you much, I am afraid," she said. "I saw very little of it. But I suppose I can answer this: I found that I had a dagger, rather inexplicably, but I certainly not forced into its use. I could use other items - such as this mace, it was used." She lifted her mace out into plain view where Corim could easily see it. It was a simple weapon, a solid metal head that looked like it had once been an ornament of some kind, attatched to a short and slender but sturdy wooden haft. It fit her hand nicely, the sort of weapon she looked like she was built to use. "I did not see any champion or any of the like. I do not know who 'won', save that it was not me. I don't think I can answer that for you..."

Corim furrowed his eyebrows. "Thank you, ma'am," he said, turning away and walking back out into the square. He found himself quite without anywhere to go with this. He couldn't exactly identify the spell, but he knew that there was a somewhat powerful spellcaster with ill intent on the loose. It seemed that no one on the outside saw anything happen, and the spellcaster was concealed so that no one could identify him.

He was quite without any sort of lead. Every possibility led to a dead end. Perhaps he could just wait and see if something revealed itself?

OOC: I'm not sure what you want me to do Beren, or what the point of this was if I'm clearly not supposed to be able to solve this.

GM:

You missed the hint.

Give me a sense motive check.