Landing Events - 2017-12-28 - Octaven and the Promising Future (log)
Eorgaen 28, 5117
by Leafiara Autumnwind of the [[::The_TownCrier|TownCrier]]
Summary
A [[::Wehnimer's Landing|Landing]] militiaman delivers news that Baron Caulfield's unnamed son, AKA [[::Larsya_Caulfield|Larsya]]'s brother, will be coming after the new year to take command over the Outpost and expand the trade deal the Baron struck with Mayor Puptilian back then.
Afterward, Grand Magister Octaven contacts Mayor Cruxophim on behalf of Archmagister Naylor to say that the Hall of Mages extends gratitude for thwarting rogue mage Dennet Kestrel and his allies and sending the Talon of Toullaire back into their care. Rodnay will be "allowed" to remain within the region, but eyes will be kept in the area if he ever proves a danger. Financial reparations will be made for all of the damages caused by Dennet or Octaven herself, with funding delivered to Magister [[::Raelee_Svala|Raelee]] after the new year. Octaven will also consider a request from Cruxophim for mein golems.
Highlights
Speaking to a small opaque orb, Hapenlok asks, "You DO realize that Quinshon still lives? And he's likely going to set after you lot to get it? And part of me hopes he does find you? And melt that lump of rock between your ears you call a brain?" Speaking calmly to a small opaque orb, Cruxophim assures, "We most certainly shall, of course. We're no strangers to dealing with this sort of thing. Also... pay no mind to the halfling, we somehow have not bothered to sew his mouth shut yet."
Ysharra says, "Oh. Dennet promised Cruxophim several mein golems." Speaking quickly to a small opaque orb, Cruxophim agrees, "Oh, yes... I nearly forgot about that. Dennet never did follow through on his promise of golems." From within the orb, a woman's voice says, "I will consider the request for golems." Speaking amicably to a small opaque orb, Cruxophim notes, "Excellent." (Raelee faintly shakes her head at the orb.)
Log
The Baron's Son
A blinding flurry of snowflakes drifts down from the grey skies.
A cold winter wind stirs through the area.
A uniformed militiaman wanders by, carrying a note, "....man, in this blizzard, I'll never find the Mayor's office to deliver this note..." He wanders off into the snow.
[travel time]
[Moot Hall, Mayor's Office]
At the varnished modwir door, a red bear skin rug stretches across the polished hardwood floor. Twin velnalin hide chairs face the Mayor's pine desk, while behind it sits an incurvated bone armchair. A great stag's head and a dark-framed sketch are mounted above a cobblestone fireplace set into the western wall. Refreshments are offered atop an oak bar beside a tall arched window.
Outside the window, a uniformed militiaman can be seen wandering in the snowy streets, but he seems to be getting closer. Probably a few more minutes.
A town militiaman can be seen outside the Hall, but suddenly drops his ivory parchment as he nears the entrance. He curses, trying to search for the document in the snow.
[a group immediately heads outside to check for it, but...]
The militiaman finds the document and heads inside of Moot Hall.
[...this was not what we were supposed to do, so we head back ;)]
A uniformed Wehnimer's militiaman just arrived!
Speaking affably to a uniformed Wehnimer's militiaman, Cruxophim greets, "Evening. Have a little trouble there?"
The militiaman shakes snow from his uniform.
The militiaman says, "Trouble? Nah, why would you say so?"
(Cruxophim glances skeptically between the Wehnimer's militiaman and the snow-soiled missive in his hands.)
Speaking affably to a uniformed Wehnimer's militiaman, Cruxophim says, "What can I do for you, uh...."
Cruxophim peers quizzically at a uniformed Wehnimer's militiaman.
The militiaman brushes snow off of his badge. Ted. Nope, he brushes off more snow. Fred.
Speaking uncertainly to a uniformed Wehnimer's militiaman, Cruxophim ventures, "....t- Fred?"
The militiaman waves, "Fred. But my friends call me Fred."
Speaking calmly to a uniformed Wehnimer's militiaman, Cruxophim agrees, "Makes sense."
The militiaman says, "Sorry it took me so long."
Speaking reassuringly to a uniformed Wehnimer's militiaman, Cruxophim remarks, "Quite alright, we're just enjoying a bit of fire."
Cruxophim just grabbed a wooden stick from the basket of sticks.
Cruxophim just grabbed a wooden stick from the basket of sticks.
Cruxophim takes a wooden stick and tosses it into the fire and watches as the flames leap higher.
The militiaman says, "A bit of fire is better than a lot of fire...elementals, that's for sure."
The militiaman clears his throat and unrolls a scroll.
The militiaman says, "Nothing too exciting I don't think...."
The militiaman says, "Someone's coming."
The militiaman says, "Aren't they always?"
The militiaman says, "There's someone en route to come take command over the Outpost, for at least a time."
The militiaman says, "It doesn't list his name. But it's the son of Baron Caulfield from Bourth."
The militiaman says, "Larsya's brother."
Shinann asks, "Her coward of a father will not be coming?"
Hapenlok says, "He sends his son, because he's not brave enough to face his own daughter."
The militiaman says, "There is no mention of the Baron himself, no."
The militiaman says, "But it does mention not only will he come to command the Outpost for a time, but to help expand on the trade deal struck by the Baron and Mayor Puptilian at the time."
The militiaman says, "He's set to arrive sometime after the new year."
The militiaman rolls up the scroll. "That's all I've got."
Speaking affably to a uniformed Wehnimer's militiaman, Cruxophim states, "Thank you, Fred."
Cruxophim digs inside the ebonwood kit, gathering any loose silver.
(Cruxophim offers the Wehnimer's militiaman a few silvers as a courtesy.)
[Kenstrom misses this and briefly seems to be away]
The militiaman says, "Well, no tip I guess, so....bye!"
The militiaman waves and head out the door.
Octaven's New Arrangements
Out the window, amidst the snow, a sleek white falcon soars in the sky.
Speaking dryly to Cruxophim, Raelee says, "I was going to tell you that you would be hearing from Grand Magister Octaven."
The sleek white falcon swoops in through the window, landing on the Mayor's desk, where it stretches and opens its talon to place a small opaque orb on the desk.
The small opaque orb begins to hum.
Images begin to swirl within the orb.
A pale mist begins to seep out from the depths of the orb, creating a shifting haze around the item and some of the desk. Appearing within the orb is the image of a slender woman, with silver-blue hair that ends sharply at her shoulders. Violet eyes stare out from a narrow face, and a deep blue robe covers what you can see of her shoulders.
Speaking kindly to a small opaque orb, Cruxophim greets, "Back so soon?"
From within the orb, a woman's voice says, "Good Evening."
Cruxophim smiles a thin smile at the orb, barely guising the venomous look in his eyes.
From within the orb, a woman's voice says, "It is refreshing to come to you, not under such conflict as before."
From within the orb, a woman's voice says, "I am not here to argue the past, or the conflict. What's done is done."
From within the orb, a woman's voice says, "I bring word on behalf of Archmagister Naylor."
Speaking patiently to a small opaque orb, Cruxophim inquires, "Oh? You have my attention, Grand Magister?"
From within the orb, a woman's voice says, "The Hall offers a great measure of gratitude for your help in rooting out and thwarting the rogue mage Dennet Kestrel and his dark allies, and in no small part, ensuring the artifact known as the Talon of Toullaire was properly and safely placed in our care."
Speaking calmly to a small opaque orb, Cruxophim reminds, "We are always happy to aid in thwarting rogue Grand Magisters, I assure you."
Speaking drolly to a small opaque orb, Cruxophim replies, "You are quite welcome, Grand Magister. I suppose all is well that ends... relatively well."
From within the orb, a woman's voice says, "Furthermore, while we began in conflict, it needs not further trend in that direction. The boy, Rodnay, we understand now to be a citizen of your town, will be allowed to remain within your region, but know we will keep eyes in the area should he ever prove a danger to the Empire. But, we trust you can maintain control of this situation as you have so far."
Speaking to a small opaque orb, Hapenlok asks, "You DO realize that Quinshon still lives? And he's likely going to set after you lot to get it? And part of me hopes he does find you? And melt that lump of rock between your ears you call a brain?"
Speaking calmly to a small opaque orb, Cruxophim assures, "We most certainly shall, of course. We're no strangers to dealing with this sort of thing. Also... pay no mind to the halfling, we somehow have not bothered to sew his mouth shut yet."
From within the orb, a woman's voice says, "In addition, while Dennet Kestrel was not a true representation of the Hall of Mages, we seek to help alleviate some of the financial burdens your town may face in the reconstruction or repair of damages caused over the last year, from the Kestrels, or even the final conflict weeks ago."
Speaking jovially to a small opaque orb, Cruxophim notes, "Ahhh, blood money. Now you're talking my language."
Speaking calmly to a small opaque orb, Cruxophim suggests, "That's very generous of you, considered the damages were incured as a direct result of your assault. But I think we'll get by, as we always have."
Ysharra says, "Oh. Dennet promised Cruxophim several mein golems."
Ysharra smiles at Cruxophim.
From within the orb, a woman's voice says, "The damages in question are not only from our conflict, but from any damages caused by Dennet Kestrel over the last year."
Speaking quickly to a small opaque orb, Cruxophim agrees, "Oh, yes... I nearly forgot about that. Dennet never did follow through on his promise of golems."
Speaking affably to a small opaque orb, Cruxophim insists, "Golems will do nicely. We could use a bit of help with heavy lifting around here."
From within the orb, a woman's voice says, "After the new year, we shall send funds to Magister Raelee and ensure she has them delivered properly."
From within the orb, a woman's voice says, "I will consider the request for golems."
Speaking amicably to a small opaque orb, Cruxophim notes, "Excellent."
(Raelee faintly shakes her head at the orb.)
From within the orb, a woman's voice says, "It is our hope this can begin a better, more agreeable relationship with the Hall of Mages, as we put the blemish of those who would tarnish our ranks behind us."
Speaking affably to a small opaque orb, Cruxophim agrees, "I do hope so, of course. We have a lot of distrust and hurt to mend, mind you. I'm sure golems would help with that."
From within the orb, a woman's voice says, "Thank you for your time. We look forward to a promising new year and future."
Speaking diplomatically to a small opaque orb, Cruxophim responds, "Likewise, and of course. To the future."
The mist within the orb begins to slowly fade.
Cruxophim abruptly kicks at a small opaque orb!
As the image of Octaven fades from within the orb, the sphere melts.
The falcon on the window ledge lifts into the night sky, soaring off into the dark of night.