The Dissent of Man

[Duvet de Mot]

Thundering hymns of whispered brabbling permeated the grand stone architecture of the Jatorria, underscored by a chorus of rushed footsteps bustling to and fro. The immense hall glimmered in the sparse torchlight upon its length. Ornate arches of gold and marble spanned the gaps between the illuminated pillars within the void of shadows above the heads of Zurik’s advisors and soldiers. At the Jatorria’s furthest point, Zurik sat in the Seat of the Pathfinder, peering out at his scurrying subjects with detachment. His eyes were glazed over with disinterest as his mind calculated risks and formulated plans; however, his tactical renderings were interrupted as the voice of Arcturus, Zurik’s second, rang forth. "My lord, the rebels are once again growing in numbers. They are becoming bolder. It is the opinion of many that an extermination squad is necessary.” Kneeling before the golden throne, Arcturus’s weathered face and bushy brows glanced tentatively up at the fierce visage of the Archon.

Freed from his armor for a short while, Zurik crooked his tan head slightly to glare downwards at Arcturus’s kneeling form. “They are becoming restless, Arcturus, this is true. Assassinations are taking place... Information is being gathered... However, they know nothing of our true strength in battle. Many have forgotten the full force of our armies. Do not fear: They shall come to us. Then, we shall have the advantage...” Arcturus listened keenly to Zurik’s words, but, finding them unacceptable, stood before the Archon, his eyes staring upwards. "I understand, my lord, but what of the Pathfinder?" Zurik’s eyes glowered upon Arcturus’s form, the Archon rising from his seat and descending slowly down to meet his second, his scowl deeping. "You are quick to question me, Arcturus, but slow to take action yourself. I gave the order to dispatch Aurides’s Auxilary and Simeron after the Pathfinder two nights before this. " Zurik’s eyes brightened as he placed a hand upon Arcturus’s shoulder, “The awakening was felt by all Melder’s near and far. We have the ability to reach him before they do. You doubt too much.”

Arcturus averted his eyes from the Archon’s piercing gaze, his discomfort growing with every passing moment. “I am truly sorry for having doubted you, my lord. Your wiso-“ Arcturus’s voice silenced itself with a gurgle and a moan, as he fell to his knees, drowning in his own blood. The Jatorria was silent save for the scurrying of footsteps to the base of the throne, as a throng of servants collected Arcturus’s body, and the slow ascent of Zurik to his seat of power, the fingers of right hand dripping the blood of his former second. Weakness begets death.

____________________________________________________

At that moment, 1500 miles southeast of the Jatorria, near the Izarrem mines, a lone band of six Archonian soldiers were trudging through the dense forest, following a diminutive robed figure. The head of the Auxiliary scowled at the man before them from beneath his armored face before raising a hand to halt the five Signiferi behind him. “Simeron!” The short man, slowly turned to face the towering Archonite marching towards him, a sigh escaping his lips for what could only be the tenth time in as many minutes. “Yes, Decurion? Have I wronged you with my presence again?” Aurides furrowed his brow as he glared down upon the old, hunched Melder before him. “We have been here before, Simeron. You are taking us in circles!”

Simeron nodded, lowering the hood of his robe, the mop of sparse gray hair upon his head, flying loose. “I understand your concern, Lord Decurion, but as a Former, I am able to sense all living creatures, especially my own kind; however, I have lost my focus on what I believe to be The Pathfinder… Either he has hidden himself away, or there are others nearby…” Aurides stared down at the elder Melder before signaling for the Signiferi to fall in upon his position. “We may not be alone, men. Keep your eyes open.”

____________________________________________________

Nearby in the reconstructed remnants of a coal mine, Ardin stood before the stone table laden with members of The Conclave. His glimmering eyes scanned the group before him, drawing opinions of each of the Council’s appointments in their own turn. A more bizarre panel could not have been gathered for this mission had it been arranged as a challenge. Andolin Dobatte and his daughter, Marielen sat furthest from him on his right, cleaving to one another in an attempt to keep from the rest of their present company. For what purpose was Dobatte’s daughter present? The Council surely knew she would be a liability to the cause given Dobatte’s record.

Ardin’s eyes shifted from the father and his daughter to the late Captain Dresden’s daughter Luka, who sat in her usual silent fierceness to his immediate right. There was much to be said for the strong young woman and her tenacity; however, she was an asset to The Conclave, making her another liability to their mission and the success of the cause, in general. Next to Luka sat Veron Maern, Exusiai and Commanding Officer of the newly formed, United Elfish Forces. Ardin had heard much of this elf and was confident in his abilities, but found himself questioning his relevance to the task at hand.

Across the stone tabletop from Ardin sat Aldan Baider, a great partner in trading within The Conclave, but an annoyance now. He had threatened to rescind his vital business unless they allowed him to be a member on this mission, leaving them one member heavy. This man was sure to be a pain in Ardin's ass...

Upon his immediate left, Ardin saw the reserved Usher Vasilia; the young girl had only just been accepted as a member of the Conclave, but she was quite possibly their most valuable asset along this path. However, she was but a blind child with little grasp on the realities of war. Ardin’s eyes reflected with the sadness of Vasilia’s condition before they were drawn once again to his right and to the unsightly visage of Deras Mayugani. To have an Archonite, even a Proditare, as an active member of this task was a risk which the Council was willing to take, but which caused Ardin to grit his teeth in apprehension. It was Ardin’s task to inform these men and women of their duty in this matter, but he was also charged with leading them and keeping them safe. What could he expect from this Archonite once the mission’s nature was divulged?

Ardin cleared his throat gruffly, breaking the harsh silence of the mountain’s walls, addressing them as well as he could, given what he had just observed of their collective countenance. “As you all know, I am Ardin Beslea, Gatekeeper of The Way of the World and The Conclave of the Soul. You have each been called upon by The Council for the execution and long term success of this mission. For the foreseeable future, you are all joined with one another and myself in this endeavor. Thus, I find it appropriate that you should stand and introduce yourselves.” His eyes turned with his head and hand to his right as gestured toward Luka. “Captain Zalen, if you please…”

[Wendy Ann Beckett-Jolina]

Adelaide padded through the forests on bare feet, eyes scanning the area. As she'd learned, there was never a limit to how cautious a person should be in a place like the forests, especially at night. Raising her head, she saw the moon high in the sky. Hm, it's a full moon... the young girl mused to herself, pushing a strand of brown hair behind her ear. Weariness began to hit her in her stillness, and although she felt the need to just slump down against the rough bark of the nearest tree and call it a day, she knew that she couldn't. There was too many things she still had to do, still had to eat, at least slightly wash herself, and make up some sort of bed... But she was just too tired.....

Trudging to the edges of the forest, she looked up at one of the mine shafts, she noticed a faint light emanating from it. "They must be working a late shift..." she made an excuse for the oddity, giving a longing glance back at the tree, at the pile of leaves so perfectly placed beneath its foliage.

Couldn't hurt to sleep for an hour or so...

Finally, she gave in, stumbling over to the pile. Curling up in the warm layer of dead leaves, she gave a tired sigh of contentment, feeling a dark haze falling over her eyes before her eyelids fluttered closed, falling into a deep sleep...

[Rose]

A storm had bubbled up from the sea and lashed at the Golden Son from every angle, fat raindrops flooding the deck and leaking through the cargo hatch and crew’s quarters while the waves rocked the ship from side to side. They’d been thrown off course many times, the sky dark all around them and blocking out stars and the rocky shores on the horizon. It had only been a few hours since they’d lost sight of the bulky Archonite warship that attempted to tail them and tension was still high.

Luka gripped a compass, glaring down at the glass face as it was splashed with cold rain. She cursed beneath her breath and ran across the deck, feet bare as she slid over the worn, slick wood. She skidded to a stop by one of her men, grabbing the ropes beside him and pulling hard to change the angle of the top sails as they whipped in the wind. The ship curved sharply, angled toward the destination that made this long trip necessary, even under the rough conditions. Two of her men were ill from something they’d caught on the mainland. One had fallen overboard and was long loss. Yet another had died during their escape trying to protect their cargo. But they had to keep going.

No matter what, Luka had to get her shipment of weapons, medicine, food, and other essential items to the Conclave. The rebels were depending on the Golden Son, and never before had they been let down. Luka wasn’t about to fail on the ship’s first expedition with her as captain. With a look of mixed concern and determination, the young captain steeled herself for the long journey ahead.


It was nearly a week later that she arrived and was rushed into the meeting looking a bit disheveled. Her crew was being tended to and the cargo unloaded even as she sat down with the strange company. She was dressed in a ragged, sweeping skirt and cloth wrapped around her chest, all smudged with dirt and grime, and a red strip of another cloth was wrapped around the scarred side of her face. The captain’s bright blonde hair was ungroomed and unruly, hurriedly brushed back but mostly neglected. She seemed a bit tired as she stared out at the group, but the steel was still in her eyes.

Luka looked up at the old warrior, nodding to him curtly when he spoke. Ardin had known her since she was just a child, an old friend and accomplice of her father. The two men had formed an alliance long ago and the Golden Son had smuggled goods and people for the Conclave since just after its christening. Luka naturally followed in the late captain’s footsteps out of respect for both of them and the operation they worked for. Luka was rather fond of Ardin and would follow his orders almost without question.

“As Ardin told you lot, I’m Captain Zalen of the Golden Son,” Luka said as she rose to her feet, nodding to the company before her. “You might’ve heard of the good girl. She’s our smugglin’ vessel. Has been for decades.”

The woman swept out her skirt, showing the long, thin sword that rested sheathed at her side, lying against her slightly bronzed leg. It wasn’t a weapon of luxury, but it had seen countless battles and took more lives than she cared to keep track of. It was testament to her ability and authority as captain. Gesturing to it, she dared someone to challenge that.

“Now, let’s get this out of the way. If anyone doubts my skills or my right t’ be here, come on out an’ say it now so I can put you in yer place.” It was obvious she had been heckled before for her age and gender among other things and didn’t want to be hassled about it now. Luka looked past the father and daughter, feeling no threat from them, and past Aldan as well, another old acquaintance of hers. Her eyes settled instead on the Archonite and there was mistrust in her gaze. She raised her chin, ready to challenge his loyalty or morals or whatever it took to rouse a fight in him, but Ardin knew her well enough to silence her there.

“Luka,” the man said, addressing her directly and making her fall instantly silent. “We must all be companions here. Our mission is beyond our personal quarrels.”

The Captain’s eyes narrowed, but she nodded and quickly let her skirt fall over the sword once more. She nodded her head in a half-hearted apology and settled back into her seat, waving a hand.

“I’m not real keen on introductions. Why don’t we move on?” The woman took a swig from the chalice before her and then fell silent once more.

[TragicAce]

“Yes, right.” The middle-aged man (in need of a good shave) rose from his seat, or rather, tree log. To think that in but a month’s time he went from silk feathered cushions to…damp deadwood. The journey on the two of them had been taxing to say the least, and while the father tried his best to mask his worry and doubts, the gaunt features shown on his face betrayed him. Andolin redoubled their paths back and forth, weaving in and out of known patrol lines to make sure they weren’t being followed. He had to ride two horses to their deaths…’death marches’, they called them back in the Legion. The two had thrown their pursurers who had predicted the pair would make for Gailurra, territory he was far more familiar with.

But even then, he was a wanted man. And where the Legion’s hand could not reach, mercenaries and fouler still were happy to oblige. And Marielen-the poor girl! The horrific accident at Two Springs haunted her dreams and drove all possible sleep from her. Dobatte would never mention this, not even if his life depended on it, but when he regained his senses back at the chapel…a pillar had fallen over the rows his parents sat for the ceremony. ”That’s the last thing she needs to know right now.” A crude woman had opened to introductions, a pirate as he had guessed. She smelled of sea and salt and sweat. A female captain was rather absurd; the kind of thing a minstrel would make a tale about. A lewd tale at that. The tactician would have his daughter nowhere near her.

“My name is Andolin Dobatte, I held the title of tactical advisor under Interrex Yunus in the Acropolis. I am a man who has gathered little reason nor cause to deem trustworthy by the rebels, yet-Andolin gave a look to the Proditare’s blue eyes stern enough to break steel-I see that I am not alone. I have come seeking refuge for my daughter, who is a…” He had hesitated-he couldn’t help it. To say she was one of those was a death sentence, or a life in slavery. Andolin knew all too well how Melders who were ‘granted stay and citizenship’ were handled. And he would be feed for the maggots before his daughter would have such a fate.

“I will comply with this venture no matter how hazardous, provided I can have some assurance of Marielen’s safety here.”

[Eva]

"Father, I would like to speak on my own behalf." Marielen said. She stood up and nervously touched her fingers together. "My father and I have come to the rebels for the very reasons that he has given. Although my safety is a concern of his, I will let you all know that I am not incapable of protecting myself. If you would have us, then we will be grateful. If not, we will bear no ill will and go on our way." she said. Marielen looked around at the group assembled and saw that no one was similar to anyone else sitting there, at least not at first glance. "Honesty is the best policy for any group. My father and I will answer any questions that need to be asked. This I promise." Marielen explained. She looked at her father before sitting down. Whatever had happened at Two Springs, her father had refused to tell her. This was her way of responding to that bit of subterfuge.

After Marielen, Aldan stood up. "I shall be brief. I intend to do some fighting, but for the most part I am here to assist in keeping the group's supplies in order and to do whatever smooth talking needs to be done. I do not care where any of you are from, and unless I know you-" here, he glanced at Luka, "-I do not care to speak to you. I look forward to doing what I can to make sure this mission is successful." he finished. Aldan sat down and crossed his arms, already looking somewhat bored with his company.

[NicoJoe]

Veron was on his feet next, a smile on his face being his way of alleviating the tension in the room. He knew few people at the meeting, but could tell that many of them had prior relationships with each other. At first, he wondered if that may hinder their performances but upon further thought concluded that knowing your allies is almost as important as knowing your enemies. Knowing what an ally will do in battle, even if it is as small as knowing what hand they swing their weapon with, could prevent you from getting in the way at the wrong time. A general must know his troops strengths and weaknesses must be able to make educated decisions as to what they should do in a fight. Yes, knowing the people around you is a good thing.

Veron’s smile beamed at the crowd as he made eye contact with each person before speaking. The pirate girl, Luka, seemed scrappy. He liked that, a woman who knew what she wanted and would stop at nothing to get it. He respected that. The father and daughter pair were interesting and Veron would keep an eye on them, but would not actively work against them. Ardin seemed to be a leader of sorts, someone to make decisions where decisions are needed; an admirable quality

Finally, after a pause, he spoke, “My name is Veron Maern; Exusiai of the UEF,” the elfish timbre in his voice only slightly distorting the words. “I come from the tribe of Malik and my tribe, along with three others, have sworn an allegiance to me and to the conclave. We ride with you, we fight with you, we die with you. But it is my hope that we don’t focus on dying too much,” His voiced boomed a laugh before he returned to his seat.

[Gafe]

The continuous glances in his direction had not gone unnoticed by the Proditare. He may have been banished form the Archonian Legion some five years ago, but the darting stares and flickering gazes he received everywhere helped him remember his status as a lowlife outcast; he couldn't get used to them. To further this was the fact that the pirate girl and the father had already made it quite clear that they would not trust Deras farther than they could throw him. And his graying armor could prove rather heavy indeed.

As the Exusiai's light humored introduction came to an end, the Proditare traced his claw-like nails along the surface of the stone table. Had he applied any more pressure, the resulting noise might've awoken any bats strewn about the abandoned coal mine. Deras could feel that, for the better or for worse, all the present members of the Conclave craved to hear him introduce himself, perhaps to understand his presence in a group of such delicate nature, or perhaps to challenge hsi every word as soon as he uttered the syllables. Had they applied more pressure on the tension of the environment, the former Decurion might've been suffocated right then and there.

Yet, to some primal level, he could understand the reasons for their distrust or concern. Or both. They'd never been part of the Archonite society, he reasoned: that was an important factor.

With the weight of their curiosity on his shoulders, Deras Mayugani supported his weight on the table as he rose to his feet. Like ants to the corpse of a beetle, the eyes of everyone present settled on him, started gnawing on his natural armor. "Gatekeeper," he saluted Ardin with a slight bow of his head (because, frankly, nothing was put at stake by being too polite), "Everyone."

"My name is Deras Mayugani. As you've undoubtedly noticed, I'm an Archonite; a Proditare to be precise, outcast if you will. Five years ago I was banished for reasons my superiors cared little to nothing about and I was dismissed from my status as Decurion." There, the truth was out. It was better for everyone to know of it now rather than later.

"Apart from my battle-hardened experience, I bring little to the Conclave, expecting that, small as it is, it'll be key for the long-term success of the rebellion. I bring the knowledge of the inside workings of the Archonian Legion and the Archonian Society." Workings too beautiful for any of you to actually comprehend. "I realize my position is severe and my race an issue that cannot be overlooked. To demonstrate my commitment, I put myself at the service of you all. I'll trust you hoping that eventually you will be able to trust me back." Fearing for the dwindling seriousness of his introduction, Deras sat back down at these last words and looked, instead, at the white-eyed woman that had yet to speak.

[Duvet de Mot]

The pale, milky-eyed young girl spoke urgently, without any pretense or hesitation, distant visions obscuring her sense of self. “To the south, lies The Pathfinder… I can feel the strength and power emanating just past the mountain…” She paused for a moment, causing the assembly to question her for only a moment before she began to speak once more. “To northwest… An Auxiliary of Archonites… They are following a Former… They seek The Pathfinder.” Her voice faded out as her hooded face leaned forward, attempting to gain some sense of her surroundings once more.

The young Sighted’s prophetic words resonated about the stone meeting chamber, rousing a rapidly intensifying sense of urgency amongst the ragtag crowd seated around the pale raised stone which had served as their table for this gathering. Ardin had not anticipated Vasilisa to sense The Pathfinder so soon, let alone a full Archonian Auxiliary, but as the reality of Vasilisa’s prediction struck him, Ardin’s brow furrowed into a stern expression. Clenching his left fist in forced concentration, the Gatekeeper spread a hand over the stone table top, his fierce eyes glimmering with the slight tap he laid upon the cold granite. In an instant, the rock rippled as liquid, distorting the stone wave by wave until it began to resemble their surroundings. At one end sat the last peak of the mountain range of Izarrem, at the other the coastline to the sea. Between the two boundaries, the stone had distorted into an indistinct mass of ridges, representing the forest which they bordered.

“I fear we no longer have the time with which to discuss our current mission at length. Vasilisa is a gifted Melder who can see the future and the present in ways all other beings are unable to. We must act quickly and without hesitation if The Conclave is to reach the objective before this Auxiliary does…” Ardin relaxed his hands gradually, before reaching forth upon the table and explaining, “We,” (indicating the low mine upon the mountain), “are here.” He swiftly rounded the corner of the craggy map, and reached out between Luka and Veron to spread his hand across a moderately sized area to the side of the mount, “This is an approximate location of where the Archonite Auxiliary is located, given Vasilisa’s ability to sense them.” Weaving his way around the tense members of The Conclave, the old man came round the table again, his footsteps and harsh, gruff voice acting as the only sounds to break the silence pressing down upon the renovated mining shaft, Ardin reached out between the gray clad Archonite and the unsavory trader. “This area here, just below the mountains, is the only area in which The Pathfinder could possibly be residing. Even Vasilisa would have trouble detecting his energies were they further away than this.” Bringing his hand back to his side and glancing around the table, the Gatekeeper could see faces both puzzled and shocked by what had been said. Ardin made his way back round the table, nodding solemnly to himself as he addressed the unspoken concerns. “Yes… Our mission here tonight is to locate and recover 23rd incarnation of The Pathfinder before the Empire has a chance to eliminate him… While awakening, a Pathfinder may know any amount of details about their abilities, from a full understanding of their potential, to complete ignorance. We are unsure of how this incarnation is fairing, and thus, we must make it to him before the Empire, given the assumption that he is defenseless.”

The room was still as Ardin finished speaking and returned to the head of the group huddled around the map, as all the eyes merged upon him. They were losing precious time… “This is our mission. You were chosen by The Council and I expect you to perform to your full potential. If you have any problems, they can be addressed at a later date.” Ardin slammed his hand down upon the stone table, causing the earth below their feet to shake as the granite surface melted away into the mountain below, revealing an assortment of weapons and equipment where the table top had been moments before. Ardin turned to the two members closest to his right, “Luka, you’re in charge of dispersing the weaponry and supplies, as your ship brought in this shipment. Veron, formulate a strategy for us to follow; Andolin will join you shortly.”

Crossing over to his left, Ardin’s tone hushed as he approached Andolin and Marielen, “If the two of you would join me for a moment away from the others.” Gesturing for them to follow, Ardin ushered them to the far corner of the small space they had met in, before addressing them gravely in whispered tones. “The Council would like me to make it painfully clear that in her current state, your daughter is a liability to our cause… I was informed of the incident which brought you to us, and I must say it troubled me to hear.” Ardin’s gaze shifted to meet Marielen’s eyes, “If you are to remain with us, you must be trained to control your abilities as I was from birth. You will remain safe under my care should you agree; however, I do swear that it will not be a simple matter.”

[Rose]

Luka was used to working under pressure, to shouting out orders before her brain could even comprehend what she was saying. She was used to the heightened state of awareness that came from the heat of battle and making quick decisions as swords clashed and wind tore at her sails. But the room had fallen silent, perhaps for only a few seconds, and Luka took the rare opportunity to really think deeply on her situation. It was a lot to take in.

The Pathfinder….Her job was to find this being, this deity, and bring them back to the Conclave. Then what? No, that part didn’t matter. Luka drew herself up tall, smirking slightly at the challenge before her. This would be the greatest smuggle of all time. Certainly the task had been meant for her father, the true, the great Captain Zalen, but the title and responsibility was hers now and she would not fail.

“Come ‘ere, Aldan,” the captain muttered, grabbing the man’s arm unceremoniously and yanking him to the cache before them. She released him and set her hands on her hips, nodding to the supplies. “I’ll handle them weapons. But food, water, that whole lot… That’s yer area, aye? ”

Luka knelt down in front of the armory, her knees pressing her skirt into the ground and messing it further. She swept the dirty wisps of blonde from her veiled face and slid a cloth bag toward Aldan. Turning slightly, she pried it open and dumped the contents onto the floor at the man’s feet. Dried meat spilled out, old and as salted as the captain’s hair. Dragging over a small crate this time, after a second of prying it open it was revealed to be full of dried fruits.

“See how much of all this ya think we can carry on our backs. The fruit won’t last real long so I figure bringing it will be about as useful as a bilge rat in the desert. But it’s yer call.” Luka looked up as she spoke, one light eye gazing over Aldan’s expression. He was known for his poor attitude and she was making sure he wasn’t about to get lippy with her. But the man knew his job and more importantly trusted himself doing it over anyone else. This was his area of expertise. He nodded to Luka, settling down beside her to go over their supplies.

The captain turned back to her own responsibility, picking up a short sword and turning it over in front of her eyes so the dim light bounced around its surface. She had hand-picked these weapons a week ago and knew them well. They were used, but in a tried and true kind of way. They couldn’t afford to be picky now. Nodding to herself, Luka finally stood and turned to the group, hands on her hips.

“I need t’ know fightin’ styles. We’re limited here an’ I wanna give everyone the best I can.” Captain Zalen reached down, taking a dagger and small sheath into one hand, the short sword into the other. She raised them up, tilting them back and forth like she was weighing them. “A dagger for miss white eyes, I think. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I’m guessin’ yer fightin’ experience is limited.”

Luka pressed the sheathed weapon into the timid girl’s hand, then turned back to the others, sizing them all up as they eyed the weapons thoughtfully.

“We ‘ave too many daggers to count. Take what ya need. But we only got four swords, two thin, one heavy as hell. There’s an axe if anyone’s real into that, and two bows if anyone’s got the know-how to use them. I got my own stuff, so take yer pick boys. ”

[Ms.Fiction]

Vasilisa ran her slender fingers over the cool blade of the dagger before she quickly slipped it into the inside pouch of her cloak. She turned her head in the direction of Luka’s voice and slipped the dark hood off of her head.

“Luka, not to interrupt but my name is Vasilisa. Vasilisa Sylvian. Not White eyes. ” She clutched her fingers tightly, her voice edgy and impatient. Just because she was blind, did not mean she didn’t deserve to be called by her rightful name. Even though names were the least of everyone’s worries right now, she still felt the need to express herself. When people called her anything out of the way it made a feeling of hurt and anger arise within her soul.

“That goes for everyone in this room.” She raised her tone as she turned in the direction of the other voices in the room. She pulled her hood back over her head, shielding her eyes and sat down on the ground; permitting the others to focus their attentions back to their mutterings about weapons and battle plans. None of which they would need to speak with her about. She would be useless when it would come to fighting. Unless she used her gift, but that would be far to exhausting.

Vasilisa allowed her mind to slip into thoughts about her life now while she waited for the others to finish up. It was a menacing feeling; having the future held within your mind but feeling obligated to refrain from it. It was a constant battle in her head. She wanted to know more, but she wouldn’t peer into it. She had to preserve her gift, not exhaust it. Honestly though, if she could have her way, she’d live her life in the future and just lose herself in the familiar but so estranged dreamlike state. A place where she could just live her life through others futures. A place where she could always find happiness, even if it wasn't her happiness.

[TragicAce]

His daughter was so…spirited even as travel-weary as she was, the tactician decided to take that as an admirable quality. But stubborn in body only tore open wounds, and stubborn in mind got good men killed on the battlefield. Having stared the ugly side of war in the face decades back in the rocky Altuerakin mountain ranges, he made sure to keep that life away from his daughter. Dobatte had kept his baby girl at arm’s reach her entire life, just so she wouldn’t get close enough to mix herself in such ugly affairs. And he would’ve gotten away with it too.

The elf tried harder than anyone there to appear likeable, and perhaps he did hold enough charisma to rein together a few uncivilized elven tribes. Whether the man’s influence would become an asset or a liability, the strategist could not yet know. Andolin barely took notice of the Poditare’s words. The archonite was a traitor to his own people…but then again, so was he. But the man had well his reasons. Actually he only had one, but for a father one was enough.

The Sighter’s prediction unnerved the old Legion soldier in him, who had fought against their predictions with both body and mind. How many of his old friends had become just names at a gravesite because of some teenaged girl’s words? His knuckles whitened at the thought. It was no wonder Sighters were so sought after by Imperators to help direct their forces. And as accurate as this particular one seemed to be, she’d fetch a high lord’s ransom if captured. But that was not a concern of his, not now anyway.

“This is our mission. You were chosen by The Council and I expect you to perform to your full potential. If you have any problems, they can be addressed at a later date.”

There were more problems with this state of affairs then Andolin could care to count. He would only address the most pressing ones with the old melder.

“The Council would like me to make it painfully clear that in her current state, your daughter is a liability to our cause… I was informed of the incident which brought you to us, and I must say it troubled me to hear.” Ardin’s gaze shifted to meet Marielen’s eyes, “If you are to remain with us, you must be trained to control your abilities as I was from birth. You will remain safe under my care should you agree; however, I do swear that it will not be a simple matter.”

Dobatte’s words were quiet, yet infused with anger. “Allow me to make this painfully clear, Doorkeeper*, your Council holds no authority over myself nor my daughter. I don’t care what you’ve heard about Marielen, but I won’t have you speak down on her in this manner. And if what your blind seer says is true we now face a full Auxilary, a force that would have little trouble cutting the throats of this sad excuse for a contingent. Tell me again how my daughter is so safe under your care if she is to be thrown into such danger!”

*Andolin is purposely referring to him by the wrong title here

[NicoJoe]

The words of the Sighted girl were troubling for the Exusiai. He, like everyone else, was not expecting to launch a rescue mission tonight, especially not one for the Pathfinder. This would indeed be a pivotal point in the war; one that could very easily spell an early defeat for the conclave. Procuring the Pathfinder now was crucial for the conclave’s efforts and Veron was more than determined to fulfill his part of the battle so his mind instantly went into planning mode.

Veron knew that even if they were closer to the Pathfinder than the Auxiliary was, it wouldn’t be that way for long. They would be making good time toward the Pathfinder if they are following a Former of any prowess. Soon, they would befall the Pathfinder and his life could be in grave danger. The group of Conclave agents would need to act fast in securing the Pathfinder and Veron wasn’t sure it was even possible.

Veron quickly removed a map from his belt and played it on the ground before him. Using rocks to plot out where they were in relation to the Pathfinder and the Archonites, Veron began to devise a plan in his head. The Auxiliary was coming and Veron did not like the odds of beating them to the Pathfinder and back to the cave before they showed up. However, if something was to distract them; take them away from their mission, it would give Veron and the other’s the chance to get the Pathfinder to safety and keep the location of the Conclave’s headquarters a secret.

But what could distract the Auxiliary? What would be tempting enough for them to abandon their mission? A fight wouldn’t do it, not well enough. They would have to be defeated handily for that to stop them and Veron didn’t have the manpower on hand to put up much of a fight against them. So what, then? What…

“Andolin!” Veron shouted without noticing the heated discussion the strategist was having with the Gatekeeper. He didn’t care about what they were arguing about, however, so he jumped to his feet and moved to the Human’s side.

“I have a plan,” the Elf said with a bridled optimism. “It’s a risky one, more so for one member of the group, but I feel it is our best chance at securing the Pathfinder and keeping our location uncompromised.” He turned back to the group, speaking loud enough for everyone to hear his plan. “We send two groups out; the first which will move to obtain the Pathfinder and bring him back to safety. The second group will head north and distract the Auxiliary, leading them away from the first group.”

Veron could see the confusion on their faces and sighed as he explained the lynchpin of his plan, “The second group would be lead by The Proditare,” He turned his gaze directly at the Archonite, “I believe that the bounty on your head and the hatred they feel for you will be enough to distract them from their mission and give us the time necessary to accomplish ours.” Veron turned back to Ardin and spoke once more, “It’s a dangerous mission, but I believe it’s our best option. The ultimate decision is his, however. I won’t send a man on a suicide mission without giving him the chance to decline.” Returning his gaze to Deras, he finished his speech, “What do you say, Decurion?”

[Eva]

Marielen listened through Ardin's speech, her brow slightly furrowed. And she continued to listen through her father's retort, this time looking more agitated. When her father was done, Marielen spoke up. "As much as I resent being told that I am a liability, this 'council' is right." she said. Marielene sighed and tried to recall the events that lead her and her father here, but it was difficult. "If what I did was truly so terrible as to cause alarm among this council, then training is exactly what I need. I do not want to be dead weight for this cause, father. I want to protect people and help them. If I cannot control my abilities, what use am I? And...perhaps when I am trained, I can go home. Maybe see Rodric again." she added, her voice slightly strained with emotion.

[Eva]

Aldan bit his lip when he saw the supplies that Luka had for him. It was good for a group of pirates, but for people who were expected to be doing actual fighting, it was...not enough. She was right, the fruit wouldn't last long, but in terms of nutrition they were important. The meat would probably outlast him by a few decades. "Okay. I need to know a few things before I make an exact supply loadout, but I believe I know what we need. Before we leave I'll have to edit it, of course, but we'll save that for later." he told Luka. He gave her a pat on the shoulder. "I have some money to spend on supplies. When you're ready, just tell me and we'll go over what we need. I look forward to the experience." he said, his voice almost dead from lack of emotion. Aldan wasn't big on showing emotion, but he did take his job seriously, and he took Luka just as seriously. Just not in the way that she would expect. "Do try and hurry his along, madame. The merchant's not for waiting." Aldan added. With that, he resumed his checking of the meat and fruits, examining them for deficiencies.

[Gafe]

Oh, well, of course he hadn't been given any assignment. It wasn't like Deras knew how Auxiliaries worked or anything. He shrugged. It was a boon for being a traitor to one's own race and a sworn enemy to the others, he'd picked up on that some years ago.

The Proditare uncomfortably sank into his stone seat, finding vague entertainment in the disapproval "Miss White Eyes" voiced in regards to the pirate's words. He was also having the hardest time trying to understand what the aged Melder was discussing with Andolin and his daughter, for one, he didn't know how to read lips and for another, the faint whisper of light the cave had wasn't enough to make faint details visible. The words the three people were sharing were cloaked with a vaporous veil of shadow.

Deras turned his gaze to the other member who hadn't been assigned an immediate task. On his far left, Vasilisa sat with her cloak on, hiding as if it were a shield from the external world. He found her blindness strangely fascinating, somewhat repulsive, but fascinating. Archonites with disabilities like hers weren't usually introduced to non-family members, if they were kept alive at all. A blind Archonite would barely fill the fodder quota.

On his more immediate left, sat the elf. The Proditare's blue eyes fell on him the moment Veron jumped up and made his way to Andolin. With another surge of curiosity, Deras leaned towards the elf (who spoke much louder than the others - except for the pirate). Brilliant, the Exusiai had a plan. He'd made one alone and rather quickly. The Archonite couldn't help comparing him to some tacticians of the Legion... until the whole plan was explained.

How unforeseen. A plan that included the Archonite, more Archonites and also Archonite death. It was a win-win situation for the Conclave. In the event of Deras' death or capture, the worst that would happen was that the rest of the Conclavites would have an advantage over the Auxiliary in terms of getting to the Pathfinder.

"Fine." Deras spoke up. "If the Gatekeeper sees no problem with the brilliant plan, I see no reason to defy orders." However, Veron had suggested making the Proditare the leader of the second group, Deras found himself thinking that would be inexcusable for Ardin: a member of group two, sure; it's leader? Probably not.

He turned his head, "But that means, Captain Pirate, that I get the axe." An axe: a sturdy weapon with a heavy head and sharp blade was better than other weapons for dealing with Archonite armor. And there sure was lots of it to be expected soon.