Arthane_Lazul (aaaa1188)

Upon the same table as the rest of the applications, there rests a new, somewhat messier form. The writing is small and hard to make out, with sloppy letters making up even sloppier looking words. Should one attempt to read the parchment, they would find the following. ((Purely text version within.))

Well done, son! Maln is proud, and will make sure to make use of these suggestions in future RP scenarios. Hat's off to you, once more!

It is a calm, warm day in Haelun'or as you make your way along the central pathway which runs through the entirety of the Silver City. After just reaching the inn, and the central pavilion area, your right ear picks up a rather curious sound. It seems be be that of... Parchment... Yes, you're sure of it. Parchment, gently waving in the soft breeze. Turning to locate the source of the noise, you notice a small bit of the suspected material fluttering about the floor of the smithy, carried on by the various drafts which periodically make their way through the building. Resolving to return peace and order to the small room, you quickly stride over, and pick up the parchment. Turning it over to survey its contents, you notice that it appears to be an order, bearing the seal of Arthane Lazul. After looking over the bit of writing, you place it back upon the smith's table.

A slight breeze blows around you as you stand in front of Haelun'or's message board once more, perusing the various notifications and referendums that have been placed there over the last few months. A particularly strong wind suddenly blows past, causing the various pieces of parchment in front of you to ruffle slightly from their original positions. Once the papers have settled, you notice that a new note appears to have been posted in the section reserved for Haelun'orian judge nominations. Leaning a bit closer to investigate, you begin to scan over the parchment with slight interest.

Upon your next visit to the notice board, you see a new response posted below the others. It is secured in place with a single nail, driven in only partially to allow removal at a later date, should the need arise. The parchment itself is clean and unfolded, and bears the seal of the Tilruir'sil at the bottom. Curious as to this new response's contents, you lean a bit closer, and begin to read.

Looking away from the collection of bookshelves, Arthane raises an eyebrow at Acaele as he holds up a small broken quill. "Have you found something, little Acaele? Let me see that, just what do you have there...?" he says, before taking the quill in hand. "Ah, a bit of a writing implement, I see. No doubt thrown aside by a rather frustrated author." Arthane then places the quill back in Acaele's small grip, before turning to glance at Lucion, a small grin forming on his slightly damp face. "I had a feeling you might be enjoying the situation, Lucion. Though, I did not realize you would be enjoying it here... Have you finally decided to return from your self-imposed exile?" Turning back towards the bookshelves, his eyes stop when they rest upon a particularly interesting tome on the top most shelf. Hopping upwards slightly to reach it, he pulls down the book in question, and begins to look through its contents. He is interrupted, however, by the entrances of Yuln, Aerion, and Kalenz, each muttering a begrudging greeting as they attempt to dry off their soaking clothes. "Ah, karin'ayla Yuln, Aerion, Kalenz. You've fared well in this weather, I see." he says with a slight smirk, half turning his body to face them. "You especially, Aerion. You appear as though you were merely allowing yourself to be completely drenched in the downpour. Are you quite all right?"

Dim torchlight flickers over the time-pressed pages that compose one of Haelun'or's many works, the only sound audible over the roar of the storm outside being Arthane's own tapping on the tome's cover. He flinches slightly as a particularly large *crack* emanates from just outside, echoing through the tranquil college of the Mali'aheral. "Such potent weather," he muses to himself quietly as his eyes dart over the words in front of him, "and so sudden to appear, as well. Lucion must be having quite the time with this." Pausing himself only a moment to roll his head about in a futile attempt to stem the onset of a stiff neck, Arthane continues to look over the tome before him, until it holds no concept or theory he has not examined. Closing the work with a slight *thud*, he places it back in its respective shelf before stepping back to gaze at the rest of the grand collection. "I wonder what others have found to entertain themselves with in this weather. Delonna is desperately trying to keep his crops from being washed away, no doubt... What of the others?" After pondering his own question for a few moments longer, his eyes restart their slow scan over the grouping of bookshelves, his hands pulled tightly inside his slightly damp coat.

A small *thump* resonates throughout the college's main room, as Arthane Lazul finally closes the book he had selected for inspection. Quite an interesting read, it had been. After placing the tome back in its respective shelf, Arthane pulls his hands inside his coat, and begins to stride out of Haelun'or's college. A sudden light assaults his eyes as he steps out the doorway, forcing him to bring his arm up in a feeble attempt to ward off the brightness. "Ah… Far too long in the library, once again," he mutters to himself. Eventually, he grows used to the day's bright glow, and begins his walk anew, this time headed towards the city's warm tavern. Without doubt, there would be fine wine, interesting debates, and perhaps even a game or two to be found there at this time of day. He stops short of the tavern, however, as he notices a new bit of parchment clinging to the side of the market building. "Shops opening today," he reads aloud, an eyebrow raised slightly. "Very good, indeed." His curiosity piqued, Arthane makes his way inside the market, and begins to glance about. His eyes catch a glimpse of the nearby ledger, and his gaze fixes upon it shortly afterwards. "Ah, and this must be the price book," he says to himself, beginning to flip through the pages. "Very good, indeed."

It had been a wet day, and as Arthane had trudged through the water flowing swiftly on its way towards the sewers, he came upon a new note placed within Haelun'or's public domain. Rather preoccupied at the time, Arthane had scanned over the written conversation rather quickly, and nearly missed the Maheral's request regarding his presence. And now, he was climbing the round set of stairs leading up to the top of the college, his armored feet creating a dulled clang whenever they collide with the stone floor. His tall, elegantly crafted chestplate gleams in the sun as he finally nears his destination, but a slight frown creeps over his face as he notices that the Maheral's door is already cracked open a touch upon his arrival. He nods to Delonna in greeting, before he raps the back of his hand on the door gently, and calls out in a lowered, but strong voice: "Maheral, I have come as per your request posted in the public domain. Shall we conduct this business now, or should I return at a more convenient time?" Arthane leans back from the door slightly, but keeps his ear close to the crack, so he may hear the Maheral's response.

As Arthane is on his daily walk around Haelun'or, he notices a new notice pinned to the board. After reading its contents, he pulls out a piece of his own parchment and begins to scrawl his own response. Arthane's note reads: "I am currently in possession of the manor known as 'Yuln Vailu.' -Arthane Lazul."

As Arthane takes his usual walk around the streets of Haelun'or, he hears a strange commotion coming from the tavern. Curious, he walks toward the doorway as quietly as his armor will allow him, and slowly opens the front door a crack. Peering in through the tiny space, he notices that all the Mali'aheral inside are staring at a single figure, standing next to a chair. At first, Arthane does not recognize the elf, but upon further inspection of his face, voice, and physical gestures, Arthane is hit with a sudden wave of realization. "Elrun?" he says quietly, before pushing the door completely open and saying in a surprised voice: "Elrun! Where have you been, Justicar? We thought your life had been claimed by some lesser being!" Chuckling out of both disbelief and happiness, Arthane walks over to Elrun and offers him a handshake. "Welcome back, Elrun."

Arthane walks along the wet path leading through Haelun'or, his boots sending water flying with every step. His hands are placed behind his back, and his head angled toward the ground as he walks toward the notice board. "Hm. It must have rained while I was away." he says quietly. Upon reaching the notice board, he lifts his head and begins to read the various notes pinned there. His slightly glazed over eyes scan the noticeboard at an excessively slow pace, almost as if he were not truly observing the words before him. His eyes suddenly stop, however, as he notices the note titled "The Servants of Haelun'or." Leaning forward slightly, he stares at the note for a moment longer, before producing another piece of parchment from his bag and beginning to calmly scrawl words upon it with a piece of charcoal. After he is satisfied with the writing on the parchment, Arthane pins it to the noticeboard, directly below all the previous responses. Arthane's Note Reads:

Arthane Lazul raises an eyebrow upon seeing the overly-ornate message, and swiftly begins to read the golden text. He smiles as he reaches the first line, but the smile quickly transforms into a grim frown as he reaches the date and time of the wedding. "Four months from now, at mid-day? How unfortunate..." he says to himself. He contemplates the note for a moment longer, before swiftly pulling out a piece of parchment and penning a response in a common and uninteresting font. The response reads: Congratulations to the two of you! I wish you both the best of luck in all of your future endeavors together. Unfortunately, I will be unable to attend due to a prior arrangement that happens to be taking place at the exact time specified by your invitation. -Arthane Lazul

Arthane turns to Octavius, his face growing grim at the mention of the recent banishments. After staring at Octavius for a moment, deep in thought, he replies in an equally hushed voice, "It pains me to see Mali'aheral such as Seth, Kalzhett, and Talias exiled... but if this is the decision of the Okarir'Sil, then there is hardly anything we can do about it. For this type of matter is exactly what he is meant to deal with, and only the council may overrule his actions." Turning back to the fire, he sighs deeply as he stares into the flames. "Still... it is a shame to see these Mali'aheral exiled, but I doubt the action was taken without an adequate reason."