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Arcanis: Gonnes, Sons, and Treasure Runs (COMPLETED)
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<blockquote data-quote="talien" data-source="post: 2545816" data-attributes="member: 3285"><p><strong>Cast Upon Tides of Weal and Woe - Part 7b: Dancing Along the Yardarm</strong></p><p></p><p>Thralen led them to a room set with three tall narrow windows of translucent alabaster. The windows bathed the room with a soft golden light.</p><p></p><p>Thralen ensconced himself behind a large, comfortably padded leather chair. As they made themselves comfortable, Camring unceremoniously swept a pile of ledgers and scrolls off a shelf. With a rather dejected sigh, he hopped onto the shelf.</p><p></p><p>A pretty young Milandisian maidservant brought in a platter filled with ceramic cups, a dragon-shaped clay pitcher of wine, a bowl of pickled olives, dates and figs, a small jar of spiced fish paste, and several loaves of sweet white bread.</p><p></p><p>“Please,” said Thralen, “I will play the proper host. Break bread with me and be welcome in my home. You are my guests. Tell me of this mission and how you came to return my nephew to me.”</p><p></p><p>Calactyte took the bowl of pickled olives and downed the entire contents in one gulp. Ilmarė took one slice of bread from the tray.</p><p></p><p>Vlad leaned forward, deadly serious. “There are rumors that your House has been compromised. Someone is readily supplying pirates with details pertaining the movements of the Milandisian naval patrols. They suspect your security has been breached.”</p><p></p><p>The maid, who was turning to pour Vlad a cup of wine, nearly spilled it into his lap. Thralen’s eyebrows shot up.</p><p></p><p>“A spy? In my house? While I appreciate your concern, I trust all my servants implicitly. If there was a spy here, I would know it.”</p><p></p><p>The maidservant excused herself to clean up the mess.</p><p></p><p>“Way to keep the mission secret,” said Ilmarė. </p><p></p><p>Kham grabbed the bottle of wine and took a swig. “On a more immediate note…does Camring have a twin?”</p><p></p><p>“Pardon?” </p><p></p><p>“A twin. We picked up a child floating amongst the debris of the Black Egret just yesterday who is a spitting image of Camring. His name was Emric. Ring any bells?”</p><p></p><p>Thrlaen steepled his fingers. “Intriguing. I wonder if perhaps he is not some distant relation. The val’Ossan’s have been sailing the Pale Sea for centuries. Hundreds, if not thousands of illegitimate val’Ossan progeny have been cast upon the tides to settle where they may. Certainly, one bearing a resemblance to Camring would be rare, but it is not impossible.”</p><p></p><p>“He doesn’t just bear a resemblance,” said Ilmarė in irritation. “He’s a twin, down to the mole on his cheek.”</p><p></p><p>“A twin is impossible,” said Thralen. “Camring’s father, my brother Carius, was quite admired by the ladies, but he had eyes only for Tivatia.”</p><p></p><p>“Who is this Tivatia?” asked Bijoux.</p><p></p><p>“Tivatia Ossan-Drac was a scion of House Drac, descended from the Great Corsair Drac. She was also a devoted servant and priestess of Yarris.”</p><p></p><p>“Duty between a god and a mortal,” said Ilmarė. “Difficult choice.”</p><p></p><p>Thralen nodded. “She was ever torn between her duty to the Drac name and her duty to her religion. Plagued by sadness, the love of her husband and child could not sustain her. She took ill and died while Camring was still a babe.”</p><p></p><p>A chill wind whipped through the room, despite the fact that no windows were open.</p><p></p><p>“I know of Carius,” said Vlad. “He was active in Milandir and died at the Battle of Jerrold’s Bridge.”</p><p></p><p>It became so cold in the room that everyone’s breath came out in misty wisps. </p><p></p><p>“Unseasonable weather,” said Bijoux.</p><p></p><p>“Ah yes,” said Thralen, visibly disturbed. “The ceramic tile that covers the floors of the house does not always distribute the heat correctly.”</p><p></p><p>Beldin snorted. “The floor’s made of burnished yellowwood,” he whispered out of the side of his mouth to Sebastian. “Tile doesn’t do that.”</p><p></p><p>Kham cleared his throat. “About that other boy…”</p><p></p><p>“Emric, you say? I have only recently learned that Captain Blax seeks to stop Camring’s ascension to the throne of the Sea Lord. If the boy is a mirror image of Camring, it must be a case of mistaken identity. They kidnapped the wrong child.”</p><p></p><p>“Good,” said Ilmarė, “so we can all go home then.”</p><p></p><p>Thralen frowned. “I have never met Captain Blax personally, but she has a reputation as a ruthless and fearsome pirate. If she truly has the boy, I fear for his safety. When she discovers that Emric is not Camring…”</p><p></p><p>“…he will become a Ymandragorian slave,” finished Sebastian.</p><p></p><p>“But enough of this. You are in no shape to conduct any rescues today. Come, dine with me and rest here. If you’ll excuse me, I must get dressed for dinner. My servants will show you to your quarters.” And with that, Thralen left the room.</p><p></p><p>The maidservant returned. Beldin handed her a small pouch. </p><p></p><p>“Do you know how to cook this?” he asked.</p><p></p><p>The maid peered into the bag and nodded. Cal gulped down an entire loaf of bread.</p><p></p><p>“Good,” said Beldin. “I’ll eat it however you prepare it.”</p><p></p><p>“Dinner?” asked the ss’ressen.</p><p></p><p>“Yes, it looks like we’ll be staying for dinner. Try not to eat all of it,” said Ilmarė.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="talien, post: 2545816, member: 3285"] [b]Cast Upon Tides of Weal and Woe - Part 7b: Dancing Along the Yardarm[/b] Thralen led them to a room set with three tall narrow windows of translucent alabaster. The windows bathed the room with a soft golden light. Thralen ensconced himself behind a large, comfortably padded leather chair. As they made themselves comfortable, Camring unceremoniously swept a pile of ledgers and scrolls off a shelf. With a rather dejected sigh, he hopped onto the shelf. A pretty young Milandisian maidservant brought in a platter filled with ceramic cups, a dragon-shaped clay pitcher of wine, a bowl of pickled olives, dates and figs, a small jar of spiced fish paste, and several loaves of sweet white bread. “Please,” said Thralen, “I will play the proper host. Break bread with me and be welcome in my home. You are my guests. Tell me of this mission and how you came to return my nephew to me.” Calactyte took the bowl of pickled olives and downed the entire contents in one gulp. Ilmarė took one slice of bread from the tray. Vlad leaned forward, deadly serious. “There are rumors that your House has been compromised. Someone is readily supplying pirates with details pertaining the movements of the Milandisian naval patrols. They suspect your security has been breached.” The maid, who was turning to pour Vlad a cup of wine, nearly spilled it into his lap. Thralen’s eyebrows shot up. “A spy? In my house? While I appreciate your concern, I trust all my servants implicitly. If there was a spy here, I would know it.” The maidservant excused herself to clean up the mess. “Way to keep the mission secret,” said Ilmarė. Kham grabbed the bottle of wine and took a swig. “On a more immediate note…does Camring have a twin?” “Pardon?” “A twin. We picked up a child floating amongst the debris of the Black Egret just yesterday who is a spitting image of Camring. His name was Emric. Ring any bells?” Thrlaen steepled his fingers. “Intriguing. I wonder if perhaps he is not some distant relation. The val’Ossan’s have been sailing the Pale Sea for centuries. Hundreds, if not thousands of illegitimate val’Ossan progeny have been cast upon the tides to settle where they may. Certainly, one bearing a resemblance to Camring would be rare, but it is not impossible.” “He doesn’t just bear a resemblance,” said Ilmarė in irritation. “He’s a twin, down to the mole on his cheek.” “A twin is impossible,” said Thralen. “Camring’s father, my brother Carius, was quite admired by the ladies, but he had eyes only for Tivatia.” “Who is this Tivatia?” asked Bijoux. “Tivatia Ossan-Drac was a scion of House Drac, descended from the Great Corsair Drac. She was also a devoted servant and priestess of Yarris.” “Duty between a god and a mortal,” said Ilmarė. “Difficult choice.” Thralen nodded. “She was ever torn between her duty to the Drac name and her duty to her religion. Plagued by sadness, the love of her husband and child could not sustain her. She took ill and died while Camring was still a babe.” A chill wind whipped through the room, despite the fact that no windows were open. “I know of Carius,” said Vlad. “He was active in Milandir and died at the Battle of Jerrold’s Bridge.” It became so cold in the room that everyone’s breath came out in misty wisps. “Unseasonable weather,” said Bijoux. “Ah yes,” said Thralen, visibly disturbed. “The ceramic tile that covers the floors of the house does not always distribute the heat correctly.” Beldin snorted. “The floor’s made of burnished yellowwood,” he whispered out of the side of his mouth to Sebastian. “Tile doesn’t do that.” Kham cleared his throat. “About that other boy…” “Emric, you say? I have only recently learned that Captain Blax seeks to stop Camring’s ascension to the throne of the Sea Lord. If the boy is a mirror image of Camring, it must be a case of mistaken identity. They kidnapped the wrong child.” “Good,” said Ilmarė, “so we can all go home then.” Thralen frowned. “I have never met Captain Blax personally, but she has a reputation as a ruthless and fearsome pirate. If she truly has the boy, I fear for his safety. When she discovers that Emric is not Camring…” “…he will become a Ymandragorian slave,” finished Sebastian. “But enough of this. You are in no shape to conduct any rescues today. Come, dine with me and rest here. If you’ll excuse me, I must get dressed for dinner. My servants will show you to your quarters.” And with that, Thralen left the room. The maidservant returned. Beldin handed her a small pouch. “Do you know how to cook this?” he asked. The maid peered into the bag and nodded. Cal gulped down an entire loaf of bread. “Good,” said Beldin. “I’ll eat it however you prepare it.” “Dinner?” asked the ss’ressen. “Yes, it looks like we’ll be staying for dinner. Try not to eat all of it,” said Ilmarė. [/QUOTE]
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