The Legion Immortalis: The Bulwark of Heaven (Part 4)

[Radobe]

After waking up, Siron receives a breakfast invitation to which he gladly obliges. Because they have to depart for the Bulwark's headquarters afterwards, he is mowing down eggs, with some bread and ham on the side and quickly stuffs himself full.

On the way to see the general, they make a quick stop at a house surrounded by a black fence and with quite a few red rose bushes out front.

“Mum wants to see you,” … “I’m right here,”

He was surprised to see the female warrior clad in glimmering silver chain mail, who he met at the tavern, rushing out of the house. As she goes down the stairs, she attempts a very complicated maneuver involving great amounts of strength, exceptional dexterity and tremendous focus. Lacking even one of these crucial elements may lead her to a terrible result. He watches as she almost falls, while hoping on one leg and putting her boots on. The knight ponders if this would be a good time to apologize for the event at the tavern or if she even remembers about it. He shrugs and leaves it for later.

Their small party joins a larger one at what seems to be the entrance to the general's headquarters. He recognizes the faces from the procession and gives them a nod to greet them.  Shortly afterwards, he and the couple he saw at the tavern are taken to see the general.

She addresses the couple first.

“You have nothing to fear of me, Lai of the Carnis,” …  but I promise I will make it up to you,”

Up until the end of the conversation Siron could not understand what they were talking about. When the general mentions the dead wound, the cut on his throat aches a little. It was also a surprise to learn, that the brothers and now Lai, are truly immortal.

“Siron. I knew your father since he was a child,... returned honor to the name Entrima.”

Siron falls on one knee, with his head lowered and arm bend in front of his chest he answers. “There is nothing more I could wish for. It would be an honor to be counted amongst your ranks!”

[Archdemon Stu]

As Fjorin entered, he lost a breath at the various armors and weapons on display.  Their craftsmanship was flawless, and their blades appeared sturdier than any he had yet to wield.  Lai was clearly nervous, but General Fury was quick to comfort her.

After Fjorin moves the beautifully crafted chair for Lai, he finds himself sitting next to a well-armored knight.  "Siron" they called him.  With a single glance, Fjorin could tell he was a man that held himself well.  Though lacking ferocity, he was confident in his own strength and convictions.  Fjorin and this knight, Siron, were compared to one another by General Fury, and it was far from an insult.

General Fury praised Fjorin's feats, but it was difficult to swallow, knowing he was in the presence of the woman who dared challenge the Valkyries.  He truly was still just a whelp.

His introspection was quickly interrupted as a strange warmth wrapped around his arms as General Fury's light flowed through Lai.  Even though he saw it with his own eyes, the barbarian prince was still unable to comprehend what was happening as quickly as it did.  Lai was... tangible?  So many questions ran through his mind, but as General Fury and Lai continued their conversation, Fjorin found little time to process it all.

What surprised him most of all though, was Fjorin's fate which the Lady had foreseen.

That's right.  He had been forgetting one more important name on his list:  Bayard Cael.  Fjorin had only seen glimpses of the man.  He was fast, he was clever, and... he wielded the power of lightning; the one thing that could kill Fjorin once and for all.

His heart raced, and his blood boiled in his chest.  Something awoke inside Fjorin that he had not sensed since his mortal days... a thrill that only facing death itself could bring.

Fjorin's thoughts were interrupted as warmth pressed against his cheek.  It was Lai's hand.  Her hands were gentler than silk - entirely unmarred by the physical plane.  Lai made her choice, and Fjorin was somewhat surprised at her eagerness to become an Ageless.  Every moment he spent with his friend seemed to birth more surprises.

Sir Siron of the House Entrima spoke, and swore his allegiance to the Ageless with a bent knee.

Fjorin stood, and with his zweihander clutched in his fist, he turned it upward, laying the blade across the back of his opposing arm.  He then opened his palms, and lowered his knee, as if offering his very soul forward.  As he bowed his head, his eyes were barely visible as his hair draped past his cheeks.

His voice rumbled lowly, "Your hospitality will not be forgotten." After a brief pause, he made an oath:

"Bayard Cael... shall be one of many."

[Cameron]

Sig wakes up in a strange bed to a knock on a door below him. He gets up and looks around. One of Blood's guest rooms. Content that he is not in any danger, he throws his clothes on and gathers his weapon, pack, and lute. Upon slipping the lute into it's sling on his back and taking a quick swig from a skin on his belt, he notices that the knocking hasn't stopped.

"Hah. The lass must still be crashed out. Guess I better be attending to that."

Sig makes his way downstairs and opens the front door to reveal Bran and another kid he doesn't recognize. Sig realizes far too late how awkward it must be for Bran to find the Chosen of Alviss in Blood's house. He is about to answer Bran's question when Blood's reply comes from behind him.

Sig turns and looks at Blood with a bemused look on his face. "I didn't figure ye'd be up until at least mid-afternoon, lass!" Sig takes a step towards the railing when it looks like Blood might fall, but stops as she rights herself. "Might wanna watch those stairs. They can sneak up on ya."

Sig follows the Chosen to the Blood-warden base. He lets out a whistle of appreciation as he steps inside. "Very nice. I was expectin something a bit more quaint." He has a seat in the reception room, where he alternates between idly strumming a tune on his lute and drinking. he pauses once to offer Blood a drink but is otherwise content to continue his strumming/drinking combo until he is summoned.

[Kitharsis]

Sembas wakes up in a small panic.  An owl had been tracking him in his dreams all night, and he was stuck in mouse form.  A quick mental assessment of his body sets him at ease.  With a quiet yawn he rolls onto his back and closes his eyes once again.

A weight drops on his chest and he groggily focuses on it.  Besnik.  He goes on a tirade, some of it warranted for his tardiness to visit the nest, and some not.

The falconer simply lays his head back onto the pillow as everyone squabbles around him.  Life, his second life, has become quite different than it had been.  He looks to his old militia spear hanging on the wall.  The day he was given the weapon was one of the proudest of his life before becoming an Immortalis.  Now it sits unused, a relic of his past collecting dust.

He finds his mind wandering too far, his eyes watering as he longs to see his family again. 

It is time to get up.

---

Sembas takes a seat in the reception room.  Chico bounces up and down his arms, across his shoulders, and anywhere else his little mouse legs can reach.

"I suggest you be on your best behavior for the General, Chico.  Avalon isn't always fun and games."

The tune Sig is strumming away at is pleasant.  Sembas nods at the Son of Alvis in greeting.  "I'm glad you chose to play something a little less... inspiring... than you did during our sparring match, Sig."  He says with a wink.

[Cameron]

Sig grins at Sembas as he comments on his song.

"This would hardly be the best time or place for that, lad! Wouldn't want the kids upstairs to suddenly break into song and dance durin their important meeting, would we? Although that would definitely get a good chuckle out of me!"

[Faidth]

Siron, ever enthusiastic and eager to excel, and Fjorin, stoic and strong, are formally recognized as members of the Bulwark of Heaven.

“So shall it be. On behalf of the Bulwark of Heaven, it is my honor to welcome you to our ranks.”

Fury crosses to the massive doors of her office and beckons for the others to enter. Within moments, there is a host of Immortalis within the office. Blood bristles as Fenwick bumps into her on his way into the office, but Cleo, his Seer companion, offers the Captain a meek smile, and Blood’s general grumpiness is downgraded to a scowl. Faile is perched atop Archer’s  shoulder as her normal resting place upon Sembas is currently occupied by a bouncy field mouse. Besnik,  presumably fussing about the nest again, is nowhere to be seen. Dennan and Bran have been joined by Corvus, and the three brothers stand shoulder to shoulder near the rear of the room. Sig, the sole Chosen of Alviss, and emissary of his creator, has been asked to the meeting as well.

   Fury glances at the group assembled before her. The other Immortalis have all taken notice of Lai’s corporeal form, and there is a strange assortment of expressions to be found around the room. Blood looks fit to be tied and Archer appears relatively pleased with this development. Cleo narrows her eyes, her gaze wary and apprehensive. Dennan, who likely has plenty of reason to dislike her, given the fact she blew him up, moves towards her, places his hand gently upon her shoulder, and whispers “Welcome” into her ear. Corvus’s expression is blank, but his gaze is fixed firmly upon her. Anyone taking notice of this would see Bran grasp his brother’s arm and speak to him soothingly, though what he says cannot be readily discerned.

   "Some months ago, a group of our mortal allies, the Crimson Wolves, embarked on a mission to the Sanguine Fields,” begins Fury.
Blood’s face pales considerably at the mention of the Crimson Wolves.

“As many of you Elder Immortalis know, the Marrow has been very… unstable… as of late. We had reason to believe that the source of the disturbance was somewhere in the Sanguine Fields,” continues Fury.

“Fortuna…” mutters Cleo.

Fury nods grimly. “Yes… So we thought. What we found was more than we had bargained for. The Forsaken are attempting to harvest the blood from the fields to create an abomination that would bear the power of every Immortalis that died upon that ground.”

“How is that even possible?” questions Archer.

“Magic,” answers Cleo simply. “Blood magic is a form of conjuration… it is one of the most potent forms of dark magic there is.”

“The Crimson Wolves had been sending a great deal of information from the blood fields. They had been observing the area for some time, and documenting who came and went, how they were attempting to harvest the blood… but their communications have ceased,” Fury glances towards Blood whose face has reddened considerably. Her fists are clenched at her side and her teeth are gritted in an attempt to suppress her rage.

“They shouldn’t have been sent alone!” growls Blood. “You should have sent me!”

Fury’s eyes blaze in anger, and she appears as if she is about to give Blood a sound verbal lashing, but thinks better of it. “You know very well why I didn’t send you, or any other Immortalis for that matter. It would be unwise for us to tarry in the Sanguine Fields. It is far too close to the Marrow.”

“The Marrow presents the same danger for mortals,” responds Blood.

Cleo snorts in derision. “Hardly! Given our history with the Marrow, the Forgotten would be far more sympathetic to a human than an Immortalis. We haven’t exactly gotten on very well with them in the past, you know.”

“Yes, but now the Forgotten may be our best bet to ensure the Forsaken do not succeed in their task. Even they will realize the danger such a creature would present. I need to dispatch a party to ensure the safe return of the Crimson Wolves. The Forsaken likely assume we are not aware yet of their intentions, and if this is so, they are not likely to have a large force at the Sanguine Fields. They are too busy scrambling for footholds in the mortal world that their forces are spread rather thin. In addition…” Fury opens a drawer in her desk and pulls out a burlap sack. There is certainly something within it, but the bag is doing an adequate job of masking what it is. Her gaze moves to each person around the room before finally settling on Fjorin. “You… You shall carry it. As you are a friend to Lai, she should be able to grant you safe passage through the most treacherous parts of the Marrow. The Forgotten are more likely to accept our offering should a spirit, even a former one, vouch for our good intentions. This will serve as a gesture of peace between our people. But warn them… this is a gift that will not last forever. Once it is activated, they will only have a few days to cleanse the fields.”

“You mean to cleanse the fields?” wonders Cleo aloud. “Is that even possible?”

Fury nods. “It is the will of the Divine. Too long have the Sanguine Fields been soaked in the blood of the Immortalis. If this is not done, then the Forsaken may attempt this madness again. The fields must be cleansed.”

“What if they refuse our terms?” questions Blood.

“They won’t,” assures Fury. “The Forgotten do not wish to remain in the Marrow. They will take any chance they can to escape it.”

Blood shakes her head in disbelief. “What if they turn on us? The Forgotten were bound to the Marrow for a reason.”

“Time has the power to heal, Blood. There may be peace between our people yet. The Forgotten wished only to live in the ways they had before. We cannot fault them for such a desire. Yet, I understand your concern. They cannot be free to roam in the world of mortals. They still pose too much of a danger, so this shall be a grand test for them. Should they do as we ask, perhaps I may petition the Divine to grant them a boon.”

Archer frowns. “They spat on any offer of peace before. The Divine offered them rest and they rejected it.” 

“Perhaps their solitude has improved their disposition,” offers Fury.

“Or made them even more loathsome,” mutters Cleo.

“Why does the Divine not cleanse the fields himself?” questions Bran.

“That is not the way of the Divine, son. He attempts to restrain himself from interference as much as he can. Perhaps, if he did not think us capable of it, he would consider doing so himself, but trial builds character, and the Father wishes for us to stand on our own,” explains Fury patiently. “Now, I shall leave the decision to you as to who shall go, but it must be done quickly. You must depart in tomorrow at first light.”

“Why wait?” asks Blood. “If the Crimson Wolves are in danger…”

“I do not believe that they are. I merely said that their communications have ceased,” Fury puts a hand on Blood’s shoulder to comfort her. “I am sure they are fine. Nevertheless, this is an issue that must be dealt with promptly. The last time I spoke with Vartan he told me that he and the others in his party had managed to set Fortuna back a great deal. He bought us time.”

“Well, then I volunteer,” speaks Blood.

   “As do I,” speaks Corvus.

   “And I,” agrees Dennan.

   “Archer, I will require your services here in Avalon. The Archon has asked that I map out some tactics for the frontlines, and your keen eye will give us a great advantage,” speaks Fury.

   Archer nods.

   “And as for you…” Fury fixes her gaze upon Fenwick. “Cleo has spoken to Dethys regarding the binding of your powers and your confinement in Avalon. He has agreed to release you on the condition that you seek him out before you depart.” Fury’s eyes narrow and it is almost as if she is examining Fenwick’s soul. “Whether you choose to accept his offer is up to you.”

        Fenwick can hear Cardack's voice from somewhere in the back of his mind. "This really isn't a grand idea. Granted, you've been the king of ill-informed decisions lately, but the Marrow! The Marrow is a dangerous place! You want no part of it!"

[Radobe]

Upon being accepted into the Bulwark of Heaven, the knight rises to his feet. The rest of the people he met outside and an important conversation take place between all present and the general.

“Corvus can give you an assessment of what I can offer. If you find my abilities are up to the task, I am ready and willing to join!”

[Faidth]

@Siron: Corvus steps forward and claps you on the back. "We'd be honored to have you, brother. Not even the Marrow will be a match for us."

[Cameron]

Sigurd steps out from behind Blood and claps a meaty fist to his chest in a salute. He looks more serious than he has at any time since his arrival, save possibly the funeral.

"In my capacity as an official emissary of my people, the Chosen of Alviss, I pledge myself to this task. I offer my aid as a sign of our people's alliance with the Legion and the Bulwark."

[Faidth]

@Sig: Blood's eyes are downcast and you can tell her thoughts are elsewhere. However, when you offer to assist with the task at hand, her eyes lock upon you and her words come out so quietly that no one else seem to hear her.

"Thank you."

It's the first time you have ever heard her say it, but you can tell she means it and takes great personal interest in this quest.

[Archdemon Stu]

Fjorin's still face betrayed his surprise.  He was only now declared an Ageless, and they were willing to entrust him with such an object of importance.  Though, General Fury's logic was fair if what she said about Lai was correct.  He approached the desk to retrieve the item, and took a brief peek within to see exactly what it was he was assigned to carry.

[Faidth]

@Fjorin: You clutch the edges of the bag and move to draw it open. Your first perceptions is the contents of the bag consist of some round shape, much like the size of the communication orb in the back of the General's office. Yet, the bag seems absolutely weightless. However, you find that,  despite your strength and the best of your efforts, no amount of force can pull it open. Lai's hand grasps your forearm with urgency.
"Stop that! If it was meant to be seen, it wouldn't be in a bag, now would it?"
Blood smirks. "So the Carnis is smarter than it seems."
Fury gives Blood a warning glance. "Yes, LAI is quite correct."  The General deliberately emphasizes Lai's name. "To open it now would be most unwise, and more so, extremely dangerous. What you carry is very fragile. It must reach the Marrow intact."

[Archdemon Stu]

Once again, Fjorin was somewhat surprised.  He had simply assumed the bag was for convenience of holding it one's person.  He often understood why scrolls or parchments may be secret from the one who guarded it, but he had never come across an object wherein looking upon it would disrupt the mission.  This was a world filled with many strange and mystical things indeed, and it seemed he was still adapting. 

He nodded his head to those that objected, and without question: "Understood.  It shall not be scathed under my watch."

Fjorin turned to Lai.  He wanted to say so many things.  "Are you sure?" "You don't have to come." "They cannot control you." "We will be fine."  Fjorin instead halted his words before they left his throat.  Lai was a willing and powerful asset, and somehow, he doubted her new form changed any of that.

With a light exhale, he let go of these foolish thoughts.

"Lai, the Diplomat." he said with a smirk. "Interesting."

[Kitharsis]

Sembas cannot help but glance at Archer when General Fury asks her to stay behind for this mission.  He almost requests to stay behind, but his desire to be in her company is overridden by his sense of duty.  There will be time for lying about in moonlight fields later.

"I will help in any way that I can."  Hesitantly he adds,  "I'm... not sure if Faile will be able to join us though, considering the full nest she has waiting for her."  He does not look forward to the tongue lashing he will receive from her later.  Even Chico looks at him quizzically.

"Before we start preparations, I would like to know more about what we are walking into?  What are the Sanguine Fields and the Marrow?  I understand that a great deal of Ageless have fallen there.  Was there a great battle?  Also these Forgotten, what do they have to play in all of this?  This mission seems substantially more dangerous than our last."  As he asks his questions he half expects an agitated falcon to give him a good wing buffering out of frustration.

[Faidth]

   Fury regards Sembas quietly for a moment. Her expression is indecisive, as if she is debating whether it would be prudent to even discuss the origin of the Sanguine Fields.

“It is almost as if simply speaking the name of that bloody battlefield brings back a host of unpleasant memories… Vestiges of countless lives lost, and the agony of the injured and dying. However, in the end, it is you that must make the journey, and it would be wise to know what you will be up against, and the history of violence that haunts the place.” 

Fury takes a deep breath. “The Sanguine Fields have been uninhabited for several hundreds of years. No one would dare settle there now due to the nature of the place. I have walked the earth over 1,500 years, and for as long as I can remember, that area has held an unusual power over the supernatural. The place has a resonating power all its own, something bone deep… something incredible.  Because of this strange energy, it is called the Marrow of the Earth.”

“When a mortal dies, there are several places it may go. The righteous will walk amongst the Valkyries, the Ageless, and all the Divine’s heavenly host. It is there they will come face to face with the holy father, and will spend an eternity knowing peace. Those who have wickedness in their hearts fall prey to the Adversary, and it is in his realm their damnation is recognized. Yet, some spirits, for many a reason, never leave the earth. Many of them were slain unjustly. They wait about the mortal realm waiting for their passing to be resolved. Some of them are unaware they are even dead, and still others refuse to leave out of defiance, convinced that if they can but remain in the mortal realm, if they refuse to accept death, they can remain alive forever.”

“There was a time when the spirits of the deceased walked freely amongst the living. For the most part, they caused no harm, but around 400 years ago, the Forsaken entered the Marrow, and used an artifact of immense power to call all of the restless spirits to that very spot. They felt they could overpower the Ageless by harnessing the souls, converting them into energy, and using them to power machines of immense destruction. The denizens of the Marrow, or ghosts as the mortals call them, were driven to frenzy. Panic was rampant, and those spirits did anything they could to escape the Marrow, even using any human they could latch themselves onto. A rather unfortunate side effect, is when a restless spirit inhabits a human’s body, it will then consume the soul of that host to sustain itself. Innocent mortals were destroyed.”

“We, of course, did all we could to set things right. We fought against the Forsaken, and their horrific machines, but much blood was spilled on the fields and for miles and miles in all directions, the soil was stained crimson with the lives of fallen Immortalis and mortals alike. To this day, that place is called the Sanguine Fields for the color of the earth, and for the lives that were claimed there.”

“By the grace of the Divine, and with the Archon leading us, we managed to overpower the Forsaken there. We drove them out. However, the spirits that remained, had suffered much at the hands of the Forsaken. The Divine offered them rest, but they refused. They wished to continue to go back to their old ways, to roam the world freely. But this simply could not be. The majority of them, due to the tortures the Forsaken inflicted upon them, had become unstable… ravenous… driven to see to the destruction of all things. They slaughtered humans mercilessly. They would whisper darkness in their ears and drive them to commit all manner of atrocities, or would simply cause them to go insane and take their own lives, so they, too, would becomes restless spirits.”

“The Divine offered them one last chance, and again they refused. So the Archon was tasked with binding them to the Marrow, so they could not cause harm to mortals again. Needless to say, many of them are still bitter about their imprisonment. They began to call themselves the Forgotten, convinced no one cared about their plight, when nothing could be further from the truth."

"I was recently visited by one of our allies, Andel, a cath-palug, who brought a message on behalf of one of the spirits…” Fury’s gaze shifts to Fenwick. “Someone you know quite well… Letholdus Hux… your father. He assured me that the spirits of the Marrow are willing to negotiate terms for their release.”

“The contents of that bag have the power to release the spirits of the Marrow, to allow them to cleanse the fields so the Forsaken cannot harvest the blood of the fallen. Should all go well, the Divine has agreed to entertain their terms for release, but should they still hold hatred in their hearts and madness in their souls, they will forever remain in the Marrow. The artifact you will carry with you will grant them a conditional release; it will not be permanent. It will last a few days at best, and in that time, the Divine will determine whether or not the restless spirits shall be given the chance to be freed from their confinement.”

"Lai will serve as our emissary. They will be reluctant to have dealings with us, as they are mistrustful due to the horrors the Forsaken wrought upon them. The Forgotten are not the only dangers. Fortuna, a Forsaken of great power, has been sighted there. She is certainly not one to be underestimated. Many believe that Lt. Cauter is the right hand of Severan Deceit, but I believe that Fortuna has far greater sway over the leader of the Forsaken."

"Those who venture to the Sanguine Fields, those who chance the Marrow, take great care to steel your resolve. It is likely you will be put to trial for deeds done and undone. Do not fall prey to the illusions of that place. Not all that seems real should be taken as truth."

[john greymore]

"Daddy..."

Fenwick has remained silent throughout the induction and the briefing. To the former, he had no reason to object to their joining. To the latter, it was a simple matter of pure habit.

Fjorin wisely tries to check the contents of the article he would be carrying upon his person, yet is harshly rebuked for even trying to sneak a peak inside. Sembas asks his question, and clarity is poured unto them.

While Fenwick picks up and categorises each piece of information, everything halts for a brief period as Letholdus Hux is mentioned. He inhales deeply, eyebrows frowning. His parents had died by the hands of others, and this was plain confirmation of that fact. He hadn't even been able to say his goodbyes. This was his chance to sort things out.

But was he ready to face his parents? Or even just parent? If he continued down this path, it would no doubt lead to more consequences that would definitely be unpleasant to say the least. Still, was the peace of knowing worth it?

Not all that seems real should be taken as truth.

And there were many things to doubt. The tormented spirits either drove people to murder others or drove them to suicide. Was his parents one of them?

Why would his father negotiate for release? A message? Did he know about the Immortalis? He would have to go then. Was it because he wanted release from the bindings of an 'incomplete' suicide? If that was the case... What... What exactly could he do?

He sighed. His book seemed heavier, as if Cardack had somehow added weight in his incorporeal form. This wasn't the plan. He had agreed with Cardack. He would have stayed, done research, stayed away from the danger. The danger. Death, the sole enemy.

He sighs once more, but the stress of choice does not release its grip upon him. Ill-informed decisions he had been making, for sure, but they were decisions nontheless. He had to make one now. Still, that didn't exclude him from asking for a bit more.

"Will... Will I be allowed to speak to my father? Or has his nature changed such that he would shun contact with his own son? Regardless, I shall go. I have to see him."

By all accounts, this was definitely not the logical decision. Fenwick just hopes it can be the right one.

[Faidth]

Fury carefully considers Fenwick's questions. "I wish I could give you a simple answer, Fenwick, but in truth, I do not know. The Bulwark's knowledge of our own is limitless. Even humans and beasts of the mortal realm are well-documented in Avalon. However, what has transpired in the Marrow since the confinement of the Forgotten is not easily known to us. There is much about that place that eludes us."

"The Forgotten are not even the only inhabitants of the Marrow. We have reason to believe there is a far more primordial presence there. We know it is sentient, but whatever its purpose, it does not seem to desire to communicate with anyone or anything. It simply observes... almost as if you are constantly under the watchful eye of some unseen creature. I believe it to be too powerful to be a spirit, but I cannot ascertain what its true nature may be. There is still so much we do not know about the Marrow, so I cannot begin to speculate how your father would receive you. It is doubtful he knows you are counted among our ranks."

 Fury puts her hand upon Fenwick's shoulder. "But as a parent, were I separated from my children, I would want nothing more than to see them again, however fleeting it may be. Your parents were murdered, their lives unfinished. That is likely your father's reason for becoming a denizen of the Marrow. Perhaps your father desires justice; perhaps he simply yearns for rest."

[Kitharsis]

The Sanguine Fields and The Marrow are more fraught with dangers than he had first imagined.  Yet his sense of duty will not be swayed so easily.  Sembas thanks Fury for her explanation, and allows Fenwick his due time to work through the news of his father.

It clearly affects the young mage to hear of his father's involvement in this, as it would anyone.  Such a turbulent time for Fenwick.  Sembas had heard mentions of Fenwick's actions of the past few days and the repercussions that resulted.  Probably just hasty plans of revenge, fueled by Serenity's mourning.  Would he have acted differently if Serenity's pleas were directed towards him?  Not knowing the entire story, it is difficult to say.

While Sembas carries on with mice in the fields, others are walking quite a more gritty and heavy road.  Perhaps it was time to buckle down, lest he add in number to the collective troubles of the younger Immortalis.

[Radobe]

“Uhm,” caught in the atmosphere of the open conversation, Siron did not think twice before he opened his mouth.  “From what I gather, we will have quite a few tasks at our hands and a questionable amount of time to do them,” he stops for a second to pick his words, takes a step forward and then carries on. “If we split into two teams and priorities on the less dangerous task we can buy ourselves some time. Reestablishing communication with the Crimson Wolfs and opening the negotiation with the Forgotten should be our main goals. Both will hold information on this Fortuna’s activities. Also moving in two small groups’ means we are less likely to be spotted by scouts and we could cover our tracks easier. Furthermore, “maybe it was because he spent the night dining with the general and her sons, or the friendly atmosphere had led the knights slip out of place. Only know it sank in that he was talking to warriors far more experienced than him and a one thousand and five hundred years old general. In a heartbeat his cheeks flushed red and sweat broke out on his face. He quickly stepped back into place. “I apologies… I spoke out of place, I am sorry!”

This was a bad habit he had since his academy’s days, he would often speak out, even if not asked, just because he thought he knew the answer. Getting scolded often about it, did not teach him a lesson and now he felt embarrassed enough to regret not listening to his teachers.

[Faidth]

Blood rolls her eyes and firmly smacks the palm of her head against her forehead. "Impetuous little prat," she mutters under her breath.

Corvus snickers behind you. "Well, I suppose we shall have to take your vast wisdom into consideration. How did we ever get along without you here, Siron?" You can tell his ribbing is meant to be more brotherly teasing than mean-spirited condescension.

Fury shoots them both a warning look and they quickly clam up.

"Sorry, Siron. Just joking," apologizes Corvus quietly.

"You are not speaking out of place, Siron," assures Fury. "You have just as much stake in the success of this mission that any of us do. Your opinion is always welcome. Though I appreciate your observations, to divide our forces would be exceptionally unwise. This is your first time in battle, and I am regretful that a mission of such severity should serve as your introduction to our ranks. However, desperate times call for desperate measures. You know little of Fortuna or the degree of the danger you will all face. Fortuna on her own is an immense threat. She is a sorceress of nearly unparalleled power. Even our own Dethys Night would have a difficult time defeating her on his own, and he is one of the most powerful Ageless in Avalon."

"Don't let Dethys hear you say that," speaks Blood. "He'll sulk for weeks."

"Well, his attention has admittedly been elsewhere of late. One could hardly blame him. Unfortunately, Fortuna has had an ample amount of time to focus on cultivating her powers. It is no surprise; Dethys was an excellent mentor to her. As such, she is truly a force to be reckoned with. Add to that any additional forces she may command. As Severan's closest ally, she will likely have at least a small dispatch of powerful Forsaken with her. It will likely not be a large force, but what they will lack in number, they will surely make up for in power."

"As for the Forgotten, we will need the collective efforts of each one of you to make it through the treacherous terrain of the outer limits of the Marrow. Though it is likely Fortuna will have security measures in place, she has always had a certain hubris about her. I doubt she would have a dedicated scout. She thinks too much of her own abilities to protect her interests. However, our scouts will prove quite an advantage. Dennan is the best tracker among us, and I know Archer has been showing Sembas a few tricks of the trade. Between the two of them, you should have no problem getting an accurate read of the environment. As it seems Fenwick may be accompanying you, Dethys could certainly instruct him in a suitable cloaking spell to mask your movements."

"As for the Crimson Wolves, I would guess that it is far more likely they will find you. Vartan and his companions are very good at remaining unseen. Even Fortuna would be hard-pressed to find them if they were sitting right in front of her nose."