Everything So Far

L'ámnia Silverlight


She watched Heresh and Master Colby in their obvious excitement over the... er, what would it be called... establishment? Pub? Whatever it was, they seemed to be on top of the highest level of the highest spire. Smiling, she retreated from the doorway and turned towards the good doctor. "I think they're going to be amused for the next several hours. And I think that I want to make my battle plans before I present myself to court. I might not fight with swords and armor, but, a battle is a battle." She frowned and smiled brightly. "And I think I know who needs to come with me."


She grabbed his hand and pulled on it. "Come with me, she can't be too hard to find." With the good doctor at her side, she made her way about the spire, asking questions of people until she got the answers she was looking for. She spoke quickly, unconsciously using speech that pronounced her level of birth even as her mind planned out her attacks.


Eventually her questioning lead them to an area that was filled with a subtle golden light. "And who does one want when going into battle of this nature? Why, one who impresses and intimidates. Lenore is good, but she is frightening. Urral will make people gasp in surprise. Plus, she enjoys florid speech and such will only be an asset in court."


And tomorrow, she thought, was going to be an interesting day.





Standing just behind Urral, her voice rang out in lofty tones. "Hail, Urral, First Halberd Daughter of the Right Hand Macelord Lezekim Seral Leketh and Fourth Spearmaiden of the Unbridled Beam of Impervious Flame of Malenth Leketh." When the Infernal turned towards her, she held herself regally and made her way to tall woman. "Upon the morrow, when the sun hath risen upon the spire, and its golden light hath bathed all in its golden presence, I shall take my place upon the highest levels of this spire and there I shall engage in a battle not of swords and arrows, but of words, and deeds, and yea, even of guile. I must henceforth resume my place within society so that those who woulds make themselves enemies of our friend and compatriot, Lenore, wouldst know, through thine own presence, that such a folly would cost them their dear lives. Thy presence alone would rob many of their speech for surely as thou art a weapon upon the field of war, thou art too, a weapon upon the field of politics for those who are not well versed in the superlative presence of a Lezek. Wilt thou come with me upon the morrow and teach these foolish princes and lords that the only Prince they need fear is one who hath the friendship of one such as thee?"
 
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Urrals reaction was like changing from fifth gear into reverse. There almost seemed to be a mechanical grinding as her priorities rapidly shifted. Urral was in flight to find some snarky prideful human and to beat him to death legally, so when suddenly being hailed by a human, Urral could not help but bring her glory to bear.


Wheeling around, wings outstretched and eye lowering onto The Silverlight who spoke with a golden tongue, Urral spoke from behind her helmet. Each word was amplified by the armor, light seeping through the joints.


"L'amnia of Silverlight Spire. Princess of mortal designation. Supplicant before the alter of Pride. This offering placed before I, Lezekim Urral Leketh, Weapon of Gallibraus and foe to darkness, is truly worthy as your efforts have spared the life of a mortal elsewhere. My presence will be felt at your side as you wade into the court, your word will command respect and be rife with authority as slights against you shall be taken with me as your represenative. Your political foes rent from existence as so many fell inside Gillabrius"


Urral hadn't expected this, almost out of the blue but she could wait another day. Another rising sun and she'd be a Harbinger of Lezek court Practacies in a mortal court. She beams under her helmet.


"As we do so, a contract must be drafted and as I represent the House of Glory, Light, and Pride, they shall be notified of a service. We should have one done right away to make the act official! L'amnia of Silverlight, I am so proud to be chosen into your court. You shall not regret it. Your reign will be secured, I vow it!"
 
Heresh


Café/Bar/Workshop





Heresh beams down at Ichabod.


"Tea is excellent, Mr. Colby. You know what else is excellent? A full sized lathe and scaled degaussing coils! I bet these people know where there's a firing range, to boot!"
 
L'ámnia Silverlight


Well, if no one was paying attention before, they sure are now. Cat's out of the bag, let's play this out and see where it takes us. If there are rumors that I've been seen where I am not supposed to be, then people will definitely talk about it tomorrow when I present myself before the court.





"You are most well met my friend, and now, let us retire to the Rose so that we might do even as thou hast suggested in thy speech. Thou art my companion and comrade in arms and, as such, I shall strive to protect you even as you strive to protect me. Let us go forth and seal our fates together."


She turned to Llorn, her eyes taking in his appearance and his expression. "You're distant Llorn what ails you?"
 
Llorn Miles


"You're distant Llorn what ails you?"


She was right he was distant. Several minutes into the past and about two minutes into the future. Llorn's heart was hammering in his chest as he tried to balance the paradoxical experience of viewing the past and the most likely possible future simultaneously. He had been doing it since the others had gone their separate ways. He was now the only one standing between Namia and a fatal encounter with her assassin and he refused to be caught flat-footed. He was viewing the past to see who had paid undue attention to Namia's passage through the bustling bazaar and he was viewing the future to pre-empt any possible attempt on her life. Every time he felt his control faltering, he remembered that cold lifeless hand in his, back on the ship and it reinvigorated him. His cigar hung from his mouth, unlit and gripped between clenched teeth. He'd seen Urral before she'd even become visible to Namia and he'd heard their conversation before either had thought up the words of their verbose greetings. His head ached and his mind burned. But he would not be found wanting when the moment came.
 
Everyone





Heresh and Colby are directed to a firing range, and make some small headway befriending Selina 'Sprocket' and George 'Rainrat' Puddleglum and their clique of ambitious, rebellious manatechnicians. There appears to be unrest in the house of Puddleglum, but upstart teenage nobles are an increasingly common thing.


Meanwhile Srikha and Roland enjoy a night of dance, song, and ale among the common folk of the Spire's base, ending it around a fire under the stars on the rolling fields of the Circle.


The next morning dawns without incident. What will the crew do with it?
 
L'ámnia will prepare herself for her entrance into the upper spires. She will dress carefully, and richly and make her way up top with anyone who wishes to join her.
 
Urral will shine and buff her armor, helmet and all. Preparing for glory and all that! As well as disinfecting every inch of her compartment.
 



  • Heresh


    Today Is A Good Day To Fly





    Heresh rises early, filled with the excitement of being in port. She gathers her armour, rifle, 'caster, and basic tools.....and takes up the sheaf of designs which she had been working on, and which she had finally brought to something approaching completion last night.


    She'll leave a note on the board in the galley detailing her plan to visit the marketplace and the Pulse café/workshop, just in case anyone needs to find her later.


    She'll head out fairly early, deposit some money to her account in the bank of the Spires, and then stalk through the marketplace looking for a tailor shop. She's more scouting than seriously shopping today, but she'll happily inspect the quality of work which is available. Given that they're only staying for a couple of days, she doesn't have time to get stuff made from scratch, but she can buy an outfit and have it tailored.


    Then, she'll proceed back to that PULSE place and get tea. Shortly, there will be a table. On that table will be a pot of tea, a sheaf of blueprints weighted down with spanners, and a gorgeous bullpup rail rifle with pale golden wood furniture.


    Heresh is frowning at two of her blueprints. The designs just aren't gelling, and she wants some help before she goes to work on them.


 
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Llorn Miles





He rose early, well he got out of his bed in any case, considering he'd not actually slept. Llorn went over to his washbowl, the small shaving mirror hung from the wall reflecting his drawn features. Yesterday's chronomancy had taken its toll on him, he felt physically and mentally stretched out. 'Between moments', he'd heard an elder Disciple of the Glass Desert refer to it as, 'beware of being between moments, young one, to remain in that state too long is to lose one's state of presence. One becomes trapped between the past, the present and the future, a helpless bystander in the currents of Time and Fate, unable to act or interact. Beware of being between moments.'


He poured a bowl of hot water and splashed his face. A good scrub with the rough soap he'd grown up smelling and then he set about his stubble with his razor. Normally, he would have left his face unshorn, but today he would be mingling with his betters. Stormlords. His previous experiences prior to joining the crew had been that Stormlords only chose to live in high towers so that they could actually place credence on claims that they had their noses in the clouds. A clinging sense of superiority hung about them like the sweet-smelling aroma that surrounded opium addicts. Condescending of 'lesser disciplines' and constantly overplaying their value in the world. Dressed in opulent finery and surrounded by fawning lackeys. The thought of his previous interactions distracted him enough from him current activity, he didn't notice the nick he'd given his chin until a fat droplet of blood splashed noisily into the water. Stuck between moments, Llorn, he scolded himself as he pressed his towel to the wound and rooted into his medical boxes for the vial of silver nitrate. A single stinging droplet was enough to abate the flow of blood and he finished his toilet.


He dressed, pulling on his finest garments. He might be filthy Shaydensea scum, but at least he proved that you could polish a shine onto a turd.
 
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L'ámnia Silverlight


She prepared.


Before she had gone to bed the previous evening she had spent several hours in quiet contemplation. No battle should be fought without proper preparedness.


Her eyes opened with the rising of the sun and she dressed quietly. In about five hours transportation should be arriving to take her and various others up to the Upper Spire. She had to give the company the necessary information so they could gain the proper clearance protocols. She was sure that, by now, whispers should have been circulating on just when she would arrive.


She would take her own, sweet, blasted time getting ready for her entrance. She was a princess damnit and they would remember that the blood of Silverlight is not so easily spilled- even by the hand of its own prince. She made biscuits, put out some fruit and meat and milk. If people wanted to eat, they would have to do it on the fly. Today was all about her. Once her duties were seen to, she returned to her quarters.


She then bathed, honoring her promises that she wouldn't leave the ship without an escort. Clean,she dried herself carefully and then applied costly oils that scented her skin. She wrapped a robe about her and withdrew articles of clothing. She had laid out the supporting garments, her underskirts, as well as the gown she intended to wear. She then carefully went through each garment and made sure that they showed no signs of age or discoloration. Satisfied that all was well, she took her shoes and gave them the same go over. Only once she was satisfied that they too, were clear of any imperfections, she returned them to the bunk. She nodded in satisfaction.


She then pulled out all her jewelry and frowned over them. Should she wear all of them or only a few, select pieces? She didn't have a lot of jewelry, but then, she didn't need a lot. She sifted through them and wished she hadn't given Mechan the biggest crest she had. With a sigh, she picked up her father's signet ring and placed that in the 'to wear' pile. That was followed by a pearl necklace, a chain belt made of platinum and sapphire stones. She found several more rings and, after giving them a good buffing, added them to her pile. She then found a pair of earrings also of platinum and sapphire. She then picked out a matching circlet of hammered silver studded with diamonds, sapphires, and even a few rubies.


She made sure to inspect everything a second time. Once she was satisfied, she then applied herself to fixing her hair. With only a small bit of mirror by which to see, it took her a great deal of time to make the tiny braids that the style required. Many times she had to put her arms down to relax them. What normally took her maids only a a short time, ended up taking her hours.


Once her hair was as perfect as she could make it, she began the the process of getting dressed. She was able to get everything on but, she had not yet been able to manage the simple task of inverting her arms to allow her to lace the back. Deciding to hold off on it for now, she carefully applied cosmetics to her face until her features took on an appropriate regal cast. Deciding she was as good as she was going to get, she applied her jewelry.


There still remained the slight problem of her being unable to lace the back of her gown. With a sigh she decided that she'd have to find someone to lace her. The only women on board, so far as she knew, were the Captain (maybe), and Urral. She got up and made her way down to the doctor's quarters. She then rapped on his door. "Llorn? I need your help with something."
 
Llorn Miles


Once shaved and properly dressed, Llorn strolled out and into the galley. The smell of hot coffee in the pot on the stove and fresh baked biscuits filled the air, but there was no one to be seen. Without great aplomb, he poured out a measure of coffee, grabbed a plate full of biscuits along with some bread and cold cuts of meat. He filled the tea kettle with fresh water and set it on the stove to boil, setting out Master Colby's favourite teapot ready to receive the Ratkin's pleasure. This done, he retired to his quarters and settled in to enjoy his morning repast. He had kind of hoped to see Namia this morning. He did enjoy seeing her in something like a domestic setting, dressed in a simple dress and apron, preparing food and generally being busy. It had become a thing he had come to appreciate, since his previous shipboard experiences of galley cooks had been burly, invariably hairy, men gruffly serving up a variety of oily and greasy platters of indescribable meals that were heavy on bulk and light on actual flavour.


As he ate, he wondered how the day would proceed. He had little doubt that he would be on his guard again, taxing his Chronomancy to the fullest. That would be another headache he would have to deal with. Beyond that, he had no idea. He hoped that Namia's plan would pan out and that no serious issues would arise as he doubted his ability to fight a way through the combined guards of a Spire. His musings were disturbed by a knock on his door, followed by a quiet voice.


"Llorn? I need your help with something."


Recognising Namia's voice, he was at the door in a few short bounds and tugged it open. The sight that met his eyes was breathtaking. She was dressed in a fine gown with her hair elegantly styled, make-up carefully applied and jewelry adorning every point. He cocked an eyebrow even as the corner of his mouth quirked into a lopsided smile.


"And how can this humble chirurgeon assist you, Your Most Radiant Highness?", he said with a mock bow.
 
L'ámnia Silverlight


She curtseyed regally and with an impish smile on her face. "Serene Highness, actually," she said gently, her lips twisting in amusement. "I'm technically supposed to be Serene. However," she turned around and offered him her back, "I can't seem to get myself laced up. I was wondering if you wouldn't mind helping me out. Heresh isn't here to do the honors."
 
Llorn Miles


Llorn's smile widened as Namia played his game. She turned to reveal her unlaced bodice, through which he could clearly see layers of undergarments.


"I'm not sure, my dear mem'selle. I've no experience lacing up a bodice. Usually, I'm unlacing them.", he said, a lurid tone in his voice.


Regardless, he set to work on the fine lacing, nimble fingers threading the woven silk through handsewn eyelets and firm hands drawing the garment in with light, but firm, tugs. As he continued to lace and tighten, the gentle creak of the bodice's boning, crafted from strong but light Leviathan bones, issued out and he could hear her breathing become slightly more labored.


"Such torments you must suffer for your peers, Namia. I don't envy you your rank for all the gems in Shaydensea."
 
L'ámnia Silverlight


As each layer tightened, the woman who called herself Namia became ever more the princess L'ámnia and her mind began to sort itself into the role. She could feel his fingers touch her back with soft, feather caresses that had caused her breath to shorten. She blushed when he spoke. "Such torments you must suffer for your peers, Namia. I don't even you your rank for all the gems in Shadensea."


She turned to face him. "One gets used it, Good Doctor. I wouldn't want to run any races in this, but please believe me that I am quite well. And, if I become overtly formal with you, pray, forgive me as well. I will need your arm, a lady of certain station should always have an escort. Just please, don't leave me." She then grinned maliciously. "When we get up there, I am going to whisper secrets to you about the various members of the elite. I don't want, for a second, for you to feel less than anyone up there. Just remember that there will probably be a lot of really self-important people wearing a lot of weaponry who have no idea what to do with them"


She reached up and smoothed the fabric at his shoulders, pulling at a loose thread. "You'll be alright, won't you?"
 
Llorn Miles


Llorn returned her malicious smile as she tended to his jacket.


"I've drunk rum with cutthroats and cheated at cards with pirates who are famed for brutally murdering people for lesser crimes. A few primped posies in fancy clothes and antiquated ideas aren't nothing to that.", he replied, looking her over critically.


For all the whimsical manner they were talking in, he knew that the coming event would be more important to Namia's future and safety than anything that had ever happened or would happen in his life.


"If... if things go down badly and we find ourselves in dire straits, I want you to run. Run as fast as you feet will carry you, as fast as this fabric cage will allow. Flee back to the ship and don't look back til you are safe. Don't wait on me, don't call back for me. If I am able to, I shall return. But you must promise that your first priority is your own safety."
 
L'ámnia Silverlight


"I... I." She looked up at him. "I have no idea what to say to that, I really don't." She then laughed. "No Llorn, I am not going to run, there will be no need. Urral will be there. We have an understanding, she'll help me and then I will help her. Plus, I am not wearing all of this fancy just to be pretty. Sapphires are a good focal point of Stormlords and I have a lot on my person." She tapped the focal bead that rested on her forehead. "I potentially have a lot of focus beads on me. Plus, the princes of the spire would suffer greatly if one such as I am harmed under his watch."


She fiddled with his right sleeve and picked at imaginary fibers. "I know I've mentioned it before and I think I've done a good job of letting it all go, but I am highly prized as a wife. I am directly connected to the ruling princes of five different spires. All of my great grand-sires were the rulers of their Spires. They will pull me from you Llorn, they will dance with me, and they will fete me, and some will even try and take advantage of me." She put a finger up to his lips before he could object. "Please, hear me out. You'll have to let me go and trust that I am not so gullible that I believe glib lies from silvered tongues. I am sure that I will get many promises of love, affection, or even mutual interest. Or, with the problems my uncle is causing, I might be completely ignored. I need to know. I'm not going to run off with someone just because he has an overly pretty face. Until I can learn how to deal with my uncle, my place is here, on this ship."


She placed a hand on his cheek and drew it down so he was forced to look her in the eyes. "On this ship, and with you. I know those men too well, Llorn and they are not nearly as good a man as you are without even trying."
 
Olimak Lenore - Ember Rose


Even with heavily drawn curtains pulled loosely across the porthole, the lanterns snuffed since entry, and the morning sun not yet peeking across the horizon, a warm dull light suddenly rippled across the Captain's cabin as Lenore opened her glowing eyes. She rose from the bed slowly, pushing herself up from the quilted covers on one broad elbow, rolling over to touch callused feet to wooden floor.


She looked around the cabin, idly wondering what the room would actually look like in proper darkness as she rolled the stiffness of slumber from her shoulders. The thought slipped from her mind as she began to comb her hair, running a fanged brush through the dark tresses and pushing through the knots acquired in the night. The business of the day took the place of such idle musings instead.


To greet and organize the Bones, to arrange at least two for the Spireling's protection. To see what jobs the House had in store for her. To await the coming of Artyom's man and pass off the package that he had trusted into her care. To see what word she could hear of the treacherous Firebird and its crew. These thoughts and others the Captain concentrated on as she honed her body, going through the movements of the Kata that her aunt had instructed her on.


Her fists cut through the air, the solidity of the beginning of their motion, and the sheer abruptness of their end, her entire body acting in harmony. Each gesture was a force with the weight of her entire form behind it, a strength that could easily cave in the skull of even the most stoic of mortal men. As Lenore pushed her muscles to complete these acts, her mind slowly grew quiet, her reflections disappearing beneath deliberation upon the moment.


Eventually, she stopped, breathing long and broad, bearing a thin sheen of sweat upon her pale skin. Her heart pulsed in her ears, a heavy throbbing in time with the tight heat that radiated within her chest, and she savored the feeling.


Finally, after wiping herself clean with a towel and a basin of cool water, the Olimak sat cross legged, lighting a thin stick of incense. Her ankles rested upon her thighs, clenched hands knuckle to knuckle and braced against her abdomen, eyes gently shut. Sitting in silent meditation, the rise and falls of her breast grew even, almost still. Soon, she began to pray, a peaceful litany in native Urd, dedicated to the All Fire, That Which Lit The Stars, and to the Olimak who had gone before. The chant was sonorous, another action of her body that freed her mind to contemplate her place in all things.


With her morning ablutions complete, only then did Lenore clad herself in her armor, now rising with the day proper. She would go over what things the House of Olimak had seen fit to send her.
 
Roland Macrus


It had been a good night. The Elemental and he just got to have the simple pleasures. Music, drink, dance, song, and companionship. And somewhere along the line he and Srikha got back to the ship. Roland woke up to hear much activity going on. He'd slept in more than normal.


Blearily, the mercenary pulled open the door. "Whaz going on out there?"
 
L'ámnia Silverlight


She turned around at the sound of Roland's voice. She smiled, her hand lowering from Llorn's cheek to his shoulder. "We're going to invade the Upper Spire. Want to come with us and see how the fancy play?"
 
Roland Macrus


Roland stared at her and grunted, clearly not enchanted with the idea. "Is there anything more practical that someone needs done around here?"
 
Lezekim Urral


A slam echoes down the halls of the ship, nothing abnormal about it as it is recognized instantly as the harsh thunk of Urral's chamber door. The thick cedar door being slammed into it's frame a signal that Urral has left her quarters for the day. The last few days had been trying on her temperament, the sheer volume of rats on puddleglum starting to get to her. Most of the night had been spent cleaning and scrubbing her skin. The flawless golden flesh was obviously a bit raw though Urral refused to show any discomfort or reaction to chaffing inside her armor. Even her wings were slightly over pruned, a large volume of feathers put outside her door for disposal.


Over scrubbed she may have been but Urral still managed to glow with the same Glory that the crew had come to know. Her armor reflected the light of her being, her wings tucked perfectly behind her like a relaxed bird of prey, and even her ruined eye, expertly hidden under pinned locks of golden hair while her solid eye remained impassive in her Pride. It was a sight to behold but Urral made the extra effort today for the sake of L'amnia. Her ventures today required a presence of the Lezek and none would question the Scion's heritage.


After a few moments of inward thought and precision marching, Urral turns the corner to the room of Macrus. A small gathering seemed underway as Urral steps forward and thunks her Halberd down.


"You may always spend your time cleaning your quarters further Macrus. From what I've gathered, our time around Puddleglum won't wash off too easily." She takes up a slightly judgmental expression as her eye goes up and down the mercenary. She'd heard the raucous entrance him and the barbarian had made upon return to the ship and it didn't take much to assume the worst of Puddlegum.
 
L'ámnia Silverlight


She smirked as Urral approached. "Good morrow Ascended One, you look in fine fashion. Are you ready to invade the Upper Spires in a civil, genteel, non-combative way today? I cannot wait for the fancy to get a look at you. You'll outshine all of them, even with their fancy jewels."


She turned to look at both Urral and Llorn. "If someone speaks to you in Spire, try to remember what they said and I'll translate it when I can. Also, Urral, please remember to double check with me about anything that might sound like an insult. Many of the people up there are experts at double talk. I want to know, however, if you feel slighted. As you are my champion, so too, am I yours. I won't let people slight you simply because they think you might not understand."


She gave Llorn her attention. "If I squeeze your arm, then whoever is talking is doing you a disservice. I won't allow that, either."


She looked at the two of them again. "Are we set?"
 
Roland Macrus


Roland was only more than a bit annoyed with Urral's snarking and rat prejudice kicking up again. "I'd disagree Urral. You need to clean more - dripping with nonsense."


A pause as he considered why Namia would be setting up a big entrance into the upper Spires. "This is about politics isn't it? You're going out into the eye of the high and mighty as the princess - and the assassin bait."
 
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L'ámnia Silverlight


She blinked in surprise then she shook her head. "Yes and no. Before you get angry, Lenore has approved. We found out yesterday that the assassin knows what ship I'm on and how to find me. Either I figured out to late to shut up or they always knew. Either way, they know. Things are happening back home and I have no idea what, all I know is that not happy things are happening in Silverlight. Lenore put out an announcement that I am employed on the ship and any attempt to come after me will be met with, shall we say, her displeasure. I am going to go up top to shake things loose and see what rattles. Llorn, Urral and two Bones are coming with me. The purpose is to let people know I am very much alive, I am not hiding, and that I am employed on a ship captained by an Infernal and I am learning. I will leave what I am learning up to their imaginations. But yes, I am playing politics. I need to see how many and what kind of liaisons I can make.


"What I want are men of good birth wanting to marry me. It is also not a bad thing if men of slightly inferior birth want to marry me. Wanting marriage will let me know that Silverlight, or rather I have value in the marriage market. Who shows an interest in making things formal will let me know that. How they address me will indicate whether or not they are seeing me as the heir of Hagan or the only Daughter of Silverlight. And, if they think they can compromise me without fear of retaliation from family then I will know that Silverlight has fallen in regard."


She shook her head again and waved her hands. "It's complicated. Gossip should also let me know if people fear Silverlight, me or, if they fear this Infernal captain. Some might fear that the Infernal houses will get a legitimate foothold on me and thus influence a Spire. This is something I can find out."


She smiled apologetically. "This is my arena, one in which I was, quite literally, born to play."
 
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