A Blazing Star

[Smol 2229]

 

A Narrative View-Point of the events within the Tispy Tarchar. 

This Writing is purely narrative and is not to be taken within roleplay 

unless made aware of it through roleplay.

 

✧

The uneasy quiet of the Square hung heavy in the morning air like a thick fog refusing to lift. Acelia perched on the edge of one of the weathered lower wooden walls, her stormy eyes reflecting thoughts of the Starry Maer swirling in her mind as she gazed up at the overcast skies, their grey expanses promising no rest bite from the uneasy weather that had passed through the crownlands that month. The whisper of the wind was abruptly shattered by the sharp bickering of townsfolk just off in the distance before her, pulling her from her reverie and back to the lively scene unfolding before her. 

 

As she shifted her focus from the swirling clouds to the gathering crowd, her gaze landed on familiar figures—her godfather bishop Alaric, Sergey Othaman, and several other loyal patrons of the Tarchar. The warmth of recognition washed over her, momentarily grounding her in the bustling reality. Yet, her attention was drawn to two newcomers, their presence strikingly out of place. Dressed in brown garments characteristic of the middle class, each person wore a vibrant yellow sash draped over their clothes. This bold contrast to their sombre attire felt familiar to her; it was the same colour worn by visitors a few saint days ago, which a few days ago may have been seen as friends but now as enemies of the Canondom.

 

“Never a moment to mikself” 

 

she muttered under her breath, the frustration of her solitude being ruined by her curiosity. With a resigned sigh, she rose from the wooden wall, smoothing down the fabric of her dress, the soft whir of the world around her drawing her back into the fold. As she makes her way towards the gathering. 

 

“I believe they launched an assault on lemon hill.” 

 

As the woman approached the voices of those around echoed speaking upon the aforementioned assault one had brought up. Yet a sudden nearby rush from the ground beneath the feet of those rapidly shake, as though something were incoming- suddenly perceived as thorny vines seep suddenly from the floor beneath him, hindering him as they snaked about his legs.  As the caster of the vines spoke once more.

 

 “I do believe the Vinovians recently became mercenaries for the urukim.” 

 

Another voice spoke up, one of the Othaman as he turned towards the caster.

 

 “Ea will be solely responsible for them while they are here. Until someone of higher rank arrives they are to be left alone. Do we understand?” As he turned towards the mage. 

 

The Starry maers focusing upon the bishop calling forth.

 

  “What is occurring here?” 

 

“These men belong to a mercenary company responsible for an attack on the Pontiff, Lemon Hill, and the King of Numendil.”  The Bishop Spoke.

 

“I am more of a scholar than one of the mercenaries. You will find me far less… eager for battle than the rest. Perhaps we can figure something out, aye?”  The Veynar dared to utter.

 

“We pray as much, Veynar.” 

 

 “Now for our safety, Ea will ask vy to hand over vyr weapons. Nyie harm come to vy under my care.” Sergey extends a hand to the two. 

 

“Renee is unarmed”

 

Any physical weapons the duo held were passed over without question. As Veynar had the weapon and not Renee such a task seemed to be done with ease

 

“Thank vy for vyr cooperation. Now what is vyr business in the city?” 

 

“Ea do nejt believe allowing them to wander around would be the most wise.” Acelia agrees alongside the bishop stepping forward once more. To stand beside Sergey. 

 

“Why, I simply thought to show the new recruit around Aevos. I did not know of the issues with Haense.” 

 

Acelia felt a wave of confusion wash over her as she processed the words spoken by the two individuals before her. How could they seem so oblivious to the gravity of the situation? The bishop had articulated his concerns about the recent threats to the Holy See with remarkable clarity, outlining significant events like the Numendil incident, which had stirred unrest within the community. It struck her as utterly baffling that they could remain so unaware as if they were aimlessly wandering through a fog of ignorance, completely detached from the urgency and implications of the discussions that surrounded them. The weight of these issues loomed large ever arching above them all, and Acelia could hardly comprehend their lack of acknowledgement. 

 

“Da, Acelia.” 

 

“They won't be. They will be under my guard and guide the whole time till another bsk member arrives. Ea do not have the keys or tools to subdue them even if Ea wanted to. Ea can maintain peace for now until someone arrives…hopefully lord marshal.” 

 

“I plan to cooperate to the fullest,” says Veynar with a polite nod. 

 

Acelia had no way of knowing just how deeply the weight of his words would return to haunt her, as well as the bishop and Segrey. The implications of that moment would echo back with a force they could not anticipate. 

 

“Morbrodirs, Joakim and Davyd rode against them just saints day away.”  Spoke Astrid.

 

“Dobery. Ea will show vy around Haense. But when Ea say to do something, vy do it.” Sergey nods, frowning from within the helm. “Do niet make me regret my choices.” 

 

“Ea would advise as the Grand Maer, we remove them from the city at present, Sergey.”  Acelia turns her visage to the one beside her.

 

“Technically… she has the authority to do so.” 

 

Sergey Othaman looks towards her letting out a sigh. “As vy command.” He would begin to usher the men towards the gates. “Vy will get vyr sword outside.” 

 

“Hold on, we canniet simply let them leave Acelia.” 

 

“If we can't seize them then, execute them or throw them out!” 

 

“What do eym advise, Morbrodir?” 

 

“We simply cannot treat the enemies of out allies as mere rabble.” 

 

 “Interrogation, at the very least. Ve need to know vhat they know about the attack, and if they are complict, they have committed a capital offense. This new recruit is of no consequence.. But the Vaynar, ea believe, might know more.” 

 

Sergey Othaman looks at Acelia for guidance. “Tell me what vy want me to do..” 

 

“I would be happy to leave you in peace, friends. I would also be happy to cooperate, whichever you may wish.”

 

Acelia Colborn was silent for a long moment nodding her head along to the words of the others. “If we let the new one go, they will likely come back with more.” - “Do eym have access to the Cells at all, Sergey?” 

 

“Nie Ea have niet been granted access to the cells yet.” Sergey shakes his head. 

 

“All will be alright, Renee,” spoke the Vinovian scribe to the new recruit. “Total Vinovian victory always, eh?” 

 

“Upper floor of the tavern will need to be used in the meantime, the meeting room within such should be effective.” 

 

“Are vy claiming victory when vy're about to be seized?” Yelizaveta calls out 

 

Acelia stood quietly, her grey eyes watching as Yelizata's unanswered question hung in the air. She observed the Othaman and the Bishop break away from the group, guiding the Vinionians into the Tarchar. Taking a moment to gather herself, she turned and made her way to the tavern, ascending the familiar creaking stairs.

 

“Are eym certain they are part of the group that hurt the pontiff?” 

 

“Da. We have church and numendain reports the Vinovians attacked… and their letter published a letter bragging about it too.”

 

Upon reaching the second floor, she navigated through the quiet open area before arriving at the meeting room. Listening for any noise inside, she then slipped through the door, a click of a lock heard as it shut behind her.

 

✧

The room was small, just big enough to accommodate the trio, as it was designed to hold no more than four people. While it was compact, it wasn't so cramped that one couldn't move around easily. The space contained a table and four chairs, with windows along the wall opposite the door. On the left wall, a small stable was positioned as one entered, and it candle stand with some light echoing off the candle itself

 

“What do vy know about the assault upon Mount Lemon?” 

 

“Very little,” Veynar admitted. “Renee here knows nothing, nothing at all, whereas myself, I was too busy drafting articles.” 

 

“Vy weren't at the Assault?'.” 

“I was not.” 

 

“Indeed, neither was I.” Spoke Renée

 

“Do vy support the revolt agaisnt the Pontiff?” 

“I will not speak one way or the other.” 

 

“I too am indifferent.” 

 “Vyr neutrality implies vyr heresy.” 

 

“An answer would sway better then nejt” She echoes to them. “Being nejt honest will nejt mean well for eym both.”

 

 

“I am a man of law,” spoke Veynar, almost as though a query. “I only seek to uphold those laws that we Vinovians hold dear. Your laws matter little to me, what am I to say?” 

 

“What are the vinovians views upon the church?” 

“The church? I know not what runs through Vargys' head.” 

 

“I, for one, am not familiar with the church.” 

 

“As for myself? I have no problem with the church. But I follow Vargys' lead.” 

 

“It was made pretty clear to me of their opinion..” Sergey mumbles, subconsciously touching his chest. 

 

“So eym have nej views of eymr own?” She slides to sit down before them. “Would either of eym like some water?” She sweetly inquires if those of the Tarchars Patrons would recognize a tone she used when she was being kind to a customer she openly disliked.

 

“My views are that of my people,” said the scribe. “Ah, water sounds wonderful, thank you.” - “You see, I am a man of law - Vinovian law. If nothing gets in the way of it, I have no problem with it.” 

 

“Vyr leadership Broke a half dozen of Canon Laws.” 

 

“And your laws matter little to me, I'm afraid. Just being honest.” 

 

“Ag what is vinovian law?” 

 

“I am the keeper of Vinovian laws at the moment. So the majority of the law rests right ehre.” Veynar taps his head. 

 

“Tell us, then.” 

“Which part?” 

 

“Ag would eym be so kind as to recite them all?” Acelia sets two glasses on the table before the duo.

 

Veynar takes a small sip of water. “Sure.” - “Article One. Governance. Vinovia shall be a free nation, unhindered by that which is the laws of other nations. The word of the Supreme Ruler… is law.” 

 

“Where is Vinovia?” 

 

“We are a wandering mercenary group as of present. However, we will be settling… somewhere in the west, near Nevaehlen. After all, that is where we are contracted to.Is there anything more you would like to know?” 

 

“Do vy support all actions taken by vyr leadership?” 

 “The word of the Supreme Leader is law.” 

 

“Then vy are an enemy of the Church.” 

“Aye, I figured as much.” 

 

“Ag an enemy of cannonist lands”

 

“Soon, vy will be wanted in most of the continent. Ea offer vy now, Recruit, renounce vyr affiliation and avoid getting caught up with this band of thugs.” 

 

“I'm afraid I can't do that.”  Veynar murmured something quietly under his breath. 

 

 “I meant Renee.” 

“I will have to decline, as I am loyal to the Vinovian banner.” 

 

“Fools, the lot of vy. Vy aren't leaving. Vy will be Jailed until the Marshal or Koeng is contacted.” 

 

“I see. What are we waiting here for, then?” A bulb of mana could quietly be seen under the table, but perhaps only if they focused. 

 

Acelia's gaze suddenly locked onto the small, shimmering bulb of mana, evident in the dim light of the meeting room. At that moment, she seemed to realise its danger. As Sergey called out, warning them to move, Acelia reacted instinctively, her heart racing. She reached out and grabbed the bishop's arm, yanking him back just in time. It was a split-second decision driven purely by instinct.

 

Without barely any warning, a colossal wall of fire erupted, engulfing the room in an instant. Flames roared and writhed, their searing heat distorting the air with an almost unbearable intensity. The inferno surged forward, devouring everything in its path—the Colborn among them—a relentless force unleashed upon all who dared defy Veynar. The blaze crackled and twisted, a living, hungry entity bent on annihilation.

 

“Hah.” He spoke calmly. 

 

Sergey Othaman grits his teeth, watching the room begin to go up in a blaze. “**** it- GET OUT OF HERE!” He shouts to Acelia. “Ring the bell!” He moves to swing at Veynar. 

 

 

“ACELIA!”

 

Acelia staggered backwards, struck by the force before she could comprehend what had happened. Flames lashed out, searing heat licking at her skin as she reeled. It was then that her memories faded into a hollow echo, filled with gaps that would haunt her living and waking moments.

 

✧

 

[HIGH_FIRE 5490]

After some months of caring for the woman who had been hit by the fireball, Caliope would go up to the second floor of the tavern. She looked around at the damage that had been left by the attack. Yes, the tavern had been cleaned up, but burn marks do not fade so easily, so her eyes focused on that, the fire that similarly harmed the Bishop and Grand Maer. 

 

After some minutes of simply assessing the damage, she finally looked to the sword at her side, the sword she had gained while the attack was underway. Caliope gritted her teeth as a bitter reality set in for her, if she was to truly want to look after those she cared for, she would have to learn to protect them as well as look after them. 

[Metamancy 1761]

"Total Vinovian victory always," Veynar, knight of Vinovia, spoke in the darkness of his room in the middle of the night.

The man remembered nothing; for he, and Renee, had been killed. But he had been told of what had happened, and knew that some Vinovians had terrorized Haense, being killed in the process.

"Grand Maer," The wondered to himself, his quill quivering in the candlelight as he journaled about his rather bland day of breeding cows. "What have Haense in store for us next?"

[ChainedDragons 1374]

Recovering from being burned by magical flame and a stab wound that should have ended his life, Sergey contemplated what he could have done better to help prevent such a disaster. Sure the Grand Maer and Bishop were whole for the most part. Alive. But the fire, all of it, could have been avoided.

"Why am Ea being given so many chances Goddan?" He muttered to himself, staring at the candle on his work bench within his home. Busy hands kept more concerning thoughts from haunting him.