NationStates Jolt Archive


The Price of Noble Flesh (open)

The Resurgent Dream
08-10-2004, 07:34
Somewhere along the border between Farinor and Fireheart, a lone lady walked in the mud. She held her head as high as any other noble sidhe, even as the fine silks of her gown, a nightgown and nothing more, dragged along, heavy with the mud and grime of the forest road.

The lady did not hear the scuttling in the bushes. Her eyes were dry and red from crying. To the extend that she could fucus on anything, her gaze kept moving to the scar on her palm. Once, that mark had been the most precious thing in all the world to her. Now...now she didn't know.

Before she had time to notice, a net had fallen over her head. She struggled against the tight silk strands but to little avail. The harder she fought, the tighter they grew. When she was wrapped even more thoroughly, the creature, ressembling a cross between man and spider, emerged from behind the tree. It lifted the noblewoman up and begin to wrap her in a tight silk cocoon. Then it vanished again into the forest. Within weeks, the word was out, nationally and internationally, someone was selling a sidhe noble, free of significant risk to the buyer, for research, slavery, or consumption. She would go to the highest bidder.
Arani
08-10-2004, 13:50
Councillor Rekimir would like to express interest in the purchase of this sidhe, but is unwilling to make the first bid, and is happy to wait and see whether there is any interest from other parties.

(ooc: Basically - I'm interested if you have a follow up idea (which I assume you do) - and if you can give me some indication as to how much someone would expect to pay for a sidhe slave ;) )
The Resurgent Dream
08-10-2004, 20:57
A note is delivered to Councillor Rekimir:

"Your Emminence,
So far we have four bids. The current winning bid is one for 8,942 dross. For obvious reasons, I cannot name the bidder. While our government has no fixed exchange rate with yours, I will consider a dross to be worth ten Malta."

The note is unsigned.
Amero
08-10-2004, 21:13
Well, then I will bid 9,000 dross, and am prepared to go higher...I have plans for this lady, if she is who I believe she is...
Amero
08-10-2004, 21:14
And there is more here than meets the eye...

Sincerely,

Second Diplomat to the Throne,
Andreste Raymena
The Resurgent Dream
08-10-2004, 21:17
((OOC: Since no characters are really directly interacting yet, assume text messages to buyers are delivered by secret missive.))

9,000 dross is now the leading bid. Who do you think she is?
The Resurgent Dream
09-10-2004, 04:54
9,000 dross remains the leading bid. The sale will be made if there are no more bids in the near future.
The Resurgent Dream
09-10-2004, 23:06
Ms. Raymena, you are the winner. How would you wish your purchase delivered?
Wandering Argonians
09-10-2004, 23:35
Finally, it was over...

Talen Kre'Terrik, a blue-scaled 'Wyrrn-Traspe', or 'Kin of Water-Dragon' in the Argonian tongue, stood outside of the bidding area. His scaled hands where crossed in front of his waist, matching his relaxed posture. Inquisitive green eyes with oddly-rounded pupils & secondary swimming membranes took in the area. Talen had been a loyal servant to the organization for many years, his keen Argonian senses giving him a distinct advantage over other trappers.

This time, trapping was not his task. With the sale of the mysterious noblewoman, Talen would most likely be given the job of escorting her to her destination: Her owner's residence.

The palm-pilot on his nylon tactical belt vibrated slightly, indicating he had some mail to read. Taking the device from the belt with one hand, and tapping the screen with a clawed finger from the other, Talen brought up his mailbox...

"Buyer: Ms. Andreste Raymena, Second Diplomat to the Throne of Amero.
Stand by for more information..."

Talen's intrest grew with the mention of a royal dignitary, and a female to boot...

The trapper was ready to leave at any time. He had grown tired of standing outside in the lobby. The comforting weight of his model 34 Glock handgun with wrap-around pacmar grips formed for his unique hand shape hung at his side, in a three-stage-draw injection-molded rubber holster, much like those used by patrol officers of metro police forces, hung at his left side. Opposite his weapon was a tonfa baton with an internal copper core to conduct the 50,000 volts of electricity designed to run through it with the flip of a thumb. A small X26 tazer sat in front of his Glock, opposite a bank of three magazines of 9x19mm rounds. Around back, Talen carried two spare cartridges for his tazer, as well as a spare battery for his riot stick.

He'd rarely needed anything more than a swift forearm strike to the neck with most of his victims, but he liked to be prepared. Talen's size was more of a deterrent than anything, standing at a tall 6'3" & weighing around 227 lbs, he was muscular & athletic-looking. Like all Argonian breeds, he was an excellent swimmer, as evidenced by the swept-back fin-ears on either side of his head.

Talen waited, engaging in a game of 'snake' on his palm-pilot...

OOC: If you have no objections to my entering this thread in this fashion, I will continue...
The Resurgent Dream
09-10-2004, 23:43
((I have no objection to your entering the thread but, if you read back in the thread, you'll see that these communications are all made by secret missive, not in a building where everyone is. Remember, the sellers are engaging in a crime that carries the death penalty in every kingdom in the Empire, and one literally unprecedented in the entirety of the Resurgent Dream's history. They're not going to meet anyone in person, much less have a gathering, however hidden.))
Wandering Argonians
09-10-2004, 23:57
((I have no objection to your entering the thread but, if you read back in the thread, you'll see that these communications are all made by secret missive, not in a building where everyone is. Remember, the sellers are engaging in a crime that carries the death penalty in every kingdom in the Empire, and one literally unprecedented in the entirety of the Resurgent Dream's history. They're not going to meet anyone in person, much less have a gathering, however hidden.))

OOC: I am aware. Talen waits outside of the office of the head-slaver (or whatever term you wish to use), awaiting a task. He's an underling, with friends in the communication division where the secret messages are sent & recieved.
The Resurgent Dream
10-10-2004, 00:01
((Ok. But none of that would be electronic unless he gave that stuff to the slavers.))

Firnach waits in his "office". It's more of a small hut in the woods than an office. A few scattered huts contain his followers and a large steel cage contains his prey.The redcap grinds jagged yellow teeth, his grey-skinned face wearing a fearsome expression of impatience and he awaited word from Amero.
Wandering Argonians
10-10-2004, 00:15
((Ok. But none of that would be electronic unless he gave that stuff to the slavers.))

Firnach waits in his "office". It's more of a small hut in the woods than an office. A few scattered huts contain his followers and a large steel cage contains his prey.The redcap grinds jagged yellow teeth, his grey-skinned face wearing a fearsome expression of impatience and he awaited word from Amero.

OOC: I appologize, I assumed such an enterprise would be better-organized & better-funded. Such information would be beneficial to have earlier in the thread, for purposes of easier entry. I assumed communication was electronic, as correspondence & carrier-pidgeons would be somewhat time consuming & cumbersome. If this is a lower tech level than Talen's equipment, I am more than happy to change it.

A question:

What is a redcap?

IC:
Talen's scaly, three-toed & flat feet crunched the dirt of the forest path as he made his way through the woods. He'd gotten the wrong office, apparently. One that didn't like armed lizard-men loitering in the concorse & scaring the employees.

The location was somewhat fuzzy on his palm-pilot's screen, due to some sort of interefernce with his GPS system. After some three hours, he located the cage & hut...

'Helluva set-up... Kinda makes you wonder how this fella pulled off a kidnapping in the first place... You'd think he'd be better equipped... Of course, some are good enough not to need the fancy shit I like to carry. Fine by me. The slavers' guild is paying me enough to put up with just about anything at this point...'

The trapper approached the cage, hoping to get a peek at its contents...
The Resurgent Dream
10-10-2004, 01:03
((For the most part, yes, it is far lower tech and more magic. However, you don't need to change any of your stuff. I'm a big believer in the fact that nations with different levels of technology, different degrees of supernatural ability, inhabitants with different special abilities, -do- co-exist. So I don't ask other people to transform all their equipment to what the equivalent item would be in my nation. A redcap is a grey-skinned, jagged toothed being, with an unquenchable hunger, the ability to eat anything but iron and magic treasures, and what, for simplicity's sake can be described as an aura of uber-scariness. They wear caps dyed in blood which remain, contrary to scientifc expectation, bright red even after the blood dries.))

The young lady remains in her elegant, gossamer nightgown of delicate red. The bottom is coated with mud and grime. Her elegant ears taper to delicate points above her shimmering, golden hair. Her eyes are slightly red from crying. For all that, and the fact that she is unlikely to have been allowed to groom herself in days, she remains the perfect image of elegance, nobility, and beauty. No human has ever been so lovely and the effect is on the soul, not the eyes. Blue eyes raise evenly to eye the lizard man. "What now, pooka?"
Wandering Argonians
10-10-2004, 21:11
OOC: Interesting. You and I share the same belief. The Argonian people (the most numerous breed) are around the tech-level of this RP. There are three other breeds besides the typical variety that have not sworn off modern technology & magic, Talen's people among them.

IC:

Talen's eyes narrowed in a mixture of alarm & confusion...

'What did she just call me? Pooka?'

He leans in a bit, keeping a hand near his riot baton...

"I think you're mistaken... My name's Talen, not 'Pooka'... Is he the one who snared you?"
The Resurgent Dream
10-10-2004, 21:14
The sidhe shrugs, sitting upright in the back of her cage. Her back, of course, does not touch the bars. "Your name does not concern me. Either you wish to torment me or it is time to travel once more.Whatever the case, you are a soldier of my captor with all that implies. I do hope you realize the risk you run."
Wandering Argonians
10-10-2004, 21:26
Talen nods... Risks where part of the game...

"I'm well aware of the risks. Slaves never come quietly, it's always my job to subdue them. You've been bought, so I'd get ready to move if I where you. Where's your captor?"
The Resurgent Dream
10-10-2004, 22:28
The woman smirks faintly. "I did not mean risks from myself personally. A crime such as this has never before been committed in the Empire. It will offend society from the lowest peasant up to the high queen herself. Once it is discovered, it is likely to become a very high priority matter for the crown. The panalty, of course, is immediate death. I am ready to move when you are. My captor is in his hut."
Ma-tek
11-10-2004, 19:17
Delivered into the correct hands by a young lad, who seems quite at a loss as to who passed the letter on; contained in an exceptionally unusual weaved aluminium envelope with a platinum seal (shaped in such an intricate pattern that would make it impossible to open without revealing that it had indeed been opened) was the letter on a single sheaf of white, crisp paper. The paper is old, and has a musty smell to it; the writing is elegant and flowing, in the most neutral language imaginable: English.

The downward strokes are gentle, and there are no obvious upwards strokes, suggesting one who is most used to writing in an elegant style. There are no other clues, however, except the words of the letter itself:

I wish to make it known that I will open a starting bid of eleven thousand dross, and will then add twenty percent to any succeeding higher bid on any new Sidhe you come into the receipt of.

It is in your best interest that you do not reveal to any bidders that I have made this preserve, I suspect. Hence, do not do so.

The White Wolf
The Resurgent Dream
11-10-2004, 19:41
Firnach takes the letter from the boy, grinning. "I doubt we'll catch another one." he says as he reads. "Still, if the buyer doesn't respond soon, we might cancel the bid and accept yours. We've been waiting awhile."
Wandering Argonians
14-10-2004, 01:46
Voices behind Talen rouse him from his conversation with the elf-woman...

"Excuse me, sah... Are you the captor of this female?"
The Resurgent Dream
15-10-2004, 00:22
Firnach grins a little at the Argonian. "Yeah, I am. You're delivering her?"
The Resurgent Dream
21-10-2004, 21:46
((bump))
Wandering Argonians
25-10-2004, 03:57
Firnach grins a little at the Argonian. "Yeah, I am. You're delivering her?"

The blue-scaled creature nods, crossing his arms across his ample chest...

"You'd be correct..."

He pauses...

"Name's Talen..."
The Resurgent Dream
25-10-2004, 09:46
The redcap shrugs. "Go ahead and get her ready for transport. One way or another, today's the day."

He then turns to the boy, scribbling something out, sealing it, and handing it over. The paper may only be read by the author of the first note due to the magical paper it is written on. It reads:

"Your bid of 11,000 is accepted. Please give instructions for delivery."
Ma-tek
29-10-2004, 19:21
Intriguingly enough, someone arrives rather rapidly to collect the Sidhe. The person in question is of indeterminate gender (at least until they speak), and is wearing a black robe that shrouds their face in shadow. Not even their hands are visible beneath the robe, and every movement is careful to prevent any flesh becoming visible.

What is quite apparent, however, is that the individual is exceptionally tall. Standing (presumably) straight at around seven feet four inches, this is either one of those rare Humans who attain this height - or is some form of non-Human. Obviously.

The voice is deep, and scratching; dark to the ear and disturbing to the soul. Well, possibly.

"I come to collect," there's a strange hissing here, "the thing which I own now."

The hand flicks forwards, and a bag containing the money flops to the ground. "Yours," the voice barks quietly.
The Resurgent Dream
29-10-2004, 19:25
The redcap picks up the money, shrugging to the Argonian. "Sorry about that. Guess he's taking it himself."

The redcap then looks to the black robed figure, gesturing towards the cage. "All yours."
Ma-tek
29-10-2004, 22:42
[OOC: This is for plot purposes, so, lemme know if it's not okay.]

The being just grunts in response.

An exceptionally pink hand is visible for just a moment as the tall being passes a hand in front of the frightened Sidhe's face; she goes limp, and falls unconscious almost instantly, with no fight whatsoever.

He waves a hand at the cage door. "Is it...unlocked? For I will to carry...it...to my transportation."
The Resurgent Dream
30-10-2004, 02:30
((It should be ok as long as his will is decently strong. Unless he specifically did it to make her look weak or foolish because then it wouldn't work.))

Firnach grunts a little, tossing him the key. "There ya' go." He moves back a little to watch, tossing the money into the tent. "You know you're a real spoilsport don't ya'? Modern criminals and their sanitary, clinical procedures..." He trails off, grumbling, and vanishes into the tent.
Ma-tek
30-10-2004, 19:28
[OOC: Yeah, he's a strong empath/telepath, weak telekinetic. He just caused her to fall asleep, quite literally, actually. The hand is to make it look as if he's hypnotising her or using magic - he doesn't need to do anything with his hands to do such things, obviously.]

IC:

The journey wasn't a long one. Having chucked her over his shoulder, he made his way to the small hidden area just over a mile from the point of purchase; for one of his size and speed, it was not especially a long journey, even with a being thrown over his shoulder. Of course, once out of eyeshot, he did not carry her thus, but held her gently in his arms, supporting her back and head carefully.

Arriving at an odd-looking bush that's about thirteen feet too tall to be normal, he laid her down upon the ground and passed his hand over her face again, whispering softly as he threw back his hood, "Awake, little one."

The face that meets her is a fairly well-known one, and certainly is not that of a criminal. He has jet-black hair that appears to be quite long, although the hood still obscures much of the back of his head...

And he has piercing bright amber eyes, strong cheekbones, and a kindly expression on his face.

Meet the White Wolf.

[OOC: I don't know if you're going to guess who this is immediately, but it's Semir-randil himself. More info on what's going on and why will obviously be forthcoming - but we can assume that this was before the summit currently going on in Nenya, for continuity purposes, I hope. Or just after. Either way.]
The Resurgent Dream
30-10-2004, 19:44
((Just after might be better.))

She opens her eyes, batting her eyelashes delicately as she shakes her head. She looks up at the man quietly for a moment before a soft smile touches elegant lips. "Either you just rescued me or you are very gentle for a slaver." Blue eyes take him in for a long moment. "You are clearly of a noble lineage, yet you are not of my kind. Are you of the Oba or the Ali'i? I have heard much of them but never before been honored to meet one in person." With simple grace, the lady rises to her feet and offers a hand, palm down. "I am Lady Angharad ni Dougal, Baroness of Appleridge, or at least I was, until my husband laid his hands on me and cast me out. As a matter of law, such a thing is not legitimate. Husband and wife are equal in the empire and equally hold all title. But the guards were loyal to him and carried out his orders regardless of the law and I am at a loss how to remedy the situation. I am worried this kidnapping happened at his instigation." She curtseys deeply, smiling. "I deeply thank you for saving me from that brute. I am forever in your debt."
Ma-tek
31-10-2004, 23:31
((Just after might be better.))

She opens her eyes, batting her eyelashes delicately as she shakes her head. She looks up at the man quietly for a moment before a soft smile touches elegant lips. "Either you just rescued me or you are very gentle for a slaver." Blue eyes take him in for a long moment. "You are clearly of a noble lineage, yet you are not of my kind. Are you of the Oba or the Ali'i? I have heard much of them but never before been honored to meet one in person." With simple grace, the lady rises to her feet and offers a hand, palm down. "I am Lady Angharad ni Dougal, Baroness of Appleridge, or at least I was, until my husband laid his hands on me and cast me out. As a matter of law, such a thing is not legitimate. Husband and wife are equal in the empire and equally hold all title. But the guards were loyal to him and carried out his orders regardless of the law and I am at a loss how to remedy the situation. I am worried this kidnapping happened at his instigation." She curtseys deeply, smiling. "I deeply thank you for saving me from that brute. I am forever in your debt."

The tall being let out a breath of air, much relieved that she had not attacked him on sight. That would have been... muchly bothersome. He takes her hand and raises it to his lips, kissing her knuckles politely, even though he says,

"And I am High King Semir-randil I, Monarch of Nenya, and holder of too many titles to recount in one sitting - fortunately or unfortunately, depending on your perspective, I suppose. When I heard that one of your kind was for sale, I could not help but intervene. My ears and eyes are many in such things, for a thankfulness, and thus here I am. I dared not allow any other take such a risk, for were a purchase of one of your kind revealed by one of mine, and were not they above reproach (and my stance on slavery is too well known for myself to be considered interested in possessing another Sentient being), I feared that it might bring dishonour to my kind in some form."
The Resurgent Dream
01-11-2004, 00:28
Lady Angharad falls to one knee. "Your Imperial Majesty, you honor me. I must confess, I do not understand how I came to merit your personal attention. Slavery is illegal here but there are still a hundred or so convictions a year and an estimated thousand slaves who are taken without detection. In the world at large, there must be millions of slaves, some owned legally according to the laws of their homelands. I am but one woman, however well born. I am in your debt, Your Imperial Majesty. Ask of me what you will."
Ma-tek
01-11-2004, 21:04
Lady Angharad falls to one knee. "Your Imperial Majesty, you honor me. I must confess, I do not understand how I came to merit your personal attention. Slavery is illegal here but there are still a hundred or so convictions a year and an estimated thousand slaves who are taken without detection. In the world at large, there must be millions of slaves, some owned legally according to the laws of their homelands. I am but one woman, however well born. I am in your debt, Your Imperial Majesty. Ask of me what you will."

Semir-randil smiled and motioned with one hand for the lady to stand, moving to drag the active camoflauge sheet from over...what appears to be a large, smooth object. It's not clear what the hell it is, as it has no real defining marks, but a good solid bet is that it's most definitely not a bush. The illusion of bushyness vanishes as the sheet of material is dragged away, and Semir-randil folded it carefully as he spoke.

"Please, call me Semir. My government does not have a policy of interfering with slavery - indeed, we fought both against and with those who would interfere with violence, in the Amerigo Slave War, just under two years ago."

Well, that's cryptic. Against and with?

He goes on, "And no, you are not in my debt. I am in your debt, as a matter of fact. For although I am a good person at heart, and although your safety is indeed close to my heart (as is the safety of all who would be enslaved, alas), in the end I fear that my action is but an effort to display a willingness on the part of my kind to draw closer to your kind. Despite my good intentions, you are but a means to an end nontheless. Yet perhaps my honesty in this regard will serve well."

He removes an object from a pocket, and slaps it against the metallic object with a resounding >clunk<. It does not appear to do anything, though.

"Yet I confess," he murmours softly, "I much desire to work to free many more. Yet it would take so much effort and time I fear I would not have the time to breathe, were I to attempt it."
The Resurgent Dream
01-11-2004, 22:05
Angharad rises, nodding. "Then that is how I shall repay you. As soon as fortune might allow a return to my rightful station, I intend to devote all my influence to ending slavery at home and abroad, though not by war."
Ma-tek
02-11-2004, 22:11
Semir-randil smiled as he removed another object from amidst the heavy cloak - a long, thin tube, about nine inches in length. The tube is pressed against the metal, and appears to melt into it as it is pushed more firmly. After two or three seconds, the tube is entirely vanished - and a portion of the object melts away as did the tube, forming what appears to be a gangplank.

"That is eminently gracious of you, Lady," Semir-randil replied as he turned, bowing his head slightly. "I trust you will forgive the tight fit, but this style of conveyance serves us well. It will appear as a blazing star in the heavens, and likely tagged as a UFO. I suspect that this was the case upon my entry into this area, but I also suspect my exit shall be far more dangerous. However, I will take you where you wish to go, and then I will consider my own safety. Where would be best? - No, my apologies, do not answer yet; for I would not know the name."

Semir smiled at his own error, and withdrew from the cloak a small thin display screen, upon which was a startlingly accurate map of the Resurgent Dream, no doubt garnered from orbital or perhaps even cislunar observation. "Easier it would likely be were you to point out where you wish to travel to," he suggested, holding out the map.
The Resurgent Dream
02-11-2004, 22:17
She nods. "I suppose you would not, at that." She looks at the map a long moment. "I've never seen a map of this kind." Finally, she points out a location near the middle of Fireforge.
Ma-tek
03-11-2004, 21:24
Semir-randil prods the point carefully with his forefinger, and then explains, "This device can be read by a sensor inside the craft, which will then communicate with a satelite," his eyes drift skywards for a moment, "which will pinpoint a safe and quiet landing site. Which leaves plenty of time for conversation... although I'm afraid it'll be a cramped fit in there, but at least we'll be able to sit comfortably, even if it is a little... horizontally cramped."

Semir-randil motions towards the craft, casting a suspicious glance at the terrain aroundabout, almost as if expecting pursuit. Surely it couldn't have been this easy?
The Resurgent Dream
03-11-2004, 21:30
Angharad nods, climbing into the vehicle. "That's alright, Your Imperial Majesty. I am not overly reserved about such things." She smiles lightly, watching the emperor.

"I'm afraid I know next to nothing about your nation, Your Imperial Majesty. Perhaps you could share some with me?"
Ma-tek
04-11-2004, 19:46
Angharad nods, climbing into the vehicle. "That's alright, Your Imperial Majesty. I am not overly reserved about such things." She smiles lightly, watching the emperor.

"I'm afraid I know next to nothing about your nation, Your Imperial Majesty. Perhaps you could share some with me?"


Semir-randil followed into the vehicle, flicking a finger at a toggle as he settled down into one of the 'seats' - which are very uncomfortable, and clearly not designed for long journeys. The craft is obviously wholly functional, although there is some space wastage - the craft is much too tall, giving the feeling that although it is cramped, it's also spacious. This is probably an anti-clastrophobic effort, although it may merely be due to some design requirement.

He smiles at the question, dipping his hands forwards towards a sheet of metal and wriggling his fingers back and forth in the oddest manner. "Then we are in a similar situation, Lady. And did I not say that it would be quite fine for you to refer to me as Semir? You are not a Citizen of my nation, and this is not a diplomatic gathering. Come, now. I call you Lady merely out of my own tradition - for we Iluvauromeni males are overbearingly respectful," he chuckles softly, "and it has long been such. - But what do you wish to know? I would find it mightily difficult to compress the history of our people into one short telling; yet I could of a certainty try my best. Although, indeed you ask the right man, for I was present for much of it."
The Resurgent Dream
04-11-2004, 21:10
Angharad shrugs. "It is our tradition to use the appropriate honorific, whatever the circumstance. Perhaps you can tell me...is your race plentiful in your nation?"
Ma-tek
06-11-2004, 20:05
Semir-randil chuckles softly, and gives a small shrug. "That depends on how one looks at it," he muses quietly, "for I am the only of my race in one way, and yet in another I am not. I am the only remaining member of the Firstborn Nenyan Kin, to my knowledge, for all the rest are long dead, slain in battle or dead of the griefs of the world - but there are sixty million Nenyans living in the Commonality. They are both alike and unalike to me; for I do not die unless slain, alike to my Quendi ancestors. I was born forty thousand years ago, and besides but one other, I am the oldest of my race. For I am also Tumnorean, and the High King of Tumnore is older even than I - for he once was of a different kind, before the few other Quendi Noldor beside my sire and my mother were changed unto this form."

He manipulates with his fingers some more, and the 'gangplank' silently ripples back into place - light snaps into place immediately, yet it does not appear to be unnatural. Or it is a very close facsimile of natural light, at worst.

There does not appear to be any sensation of movement (yet?), so it is hard to tell whether or not the craft is actually moving.
The Resurgent Dream
06-11-2004, 20:46
Angharad nods, listening with rapt fascination. "So your race was created from an older race?"
Wandering Argonians
06-11-2004, 22:03
Talen, his task complete, nods to the slaver & beings the long walk back to where his rental jeep was parked, some two miles away. The fate of the woman didn't concern him... At least he told himself that, if he believed it it was anyone's guess...
Ma-tek
07-11-2004, 21:34
Angharad nods, listening with rapt fascination. "So your race was created from an older race?"

Semir-randil nods slightly, his voice quiet and liltingly melodic as he responds, eyes half-closed as if remembering days long past;

"Verily, indeed. My father spoke of the day that the settlement in which he lived awoke to discover themselves altered, and lo! he alone knew of the cause. For he had been visited indeed by one of the Valar, and of his Doom had he been forewarned. Yet my eyes looked not upon the world at that time yet - I was born in Tumnore, after the Long Journey. We have few records of those days, yet I remember that which came after. My sire has long since departed mortal lands, and has dwelled in slumber now in the Halls of Mandos for many a long season; as we reckon time upon this Earth, it has been four thousand decades since his passing. Yet my grandsire lives on, and of much could he tell - were he ever to depart from Tumnore. He has not done so in at least fifty decades, however, and thus I expect it not in years near.

"Not all were pleased at the change, however. Yet dreams were visited upon the Kin - for so were they named in those days before their nature was known even to them - and they were lead by the very hands of the Valar to Tumnore. The Tumnoreans consider themselves a breed apart from the Nenyans; wherefore this is so would be a tale long indeed in the telling, and would be better told in surroundings more apt to the tale."
The Resurgent Dream
07-11-2004, 22:23
Angharad nods a little. "Forty thousand years...I'm fairly certain that was millenia before I was born. Of course, no one actually knows how old they are, but the seers say most nobles were born about three thousand years ago." She shrugs a little. "So you remember your whole existence? That must be wonderful."
Ma-tek
07-11-2004, 22:57
Angharad nods a little. "Forty thousand years...I'm fairly certain that was millenia before I was born. Of course, no one actually knows how old they are, but the seers say most nobles were born about three thousand years ago." She shrugs a little. "So you remember your whole existence? That must be wonderful."

"Nenyans - or Tumnoreans - retain the utter recall of the Quendi, yes. Although I do not remember my entire existance all at once; that would be most tiresome. Indeed, I recall all that I have done and seen, whenever I wish to recall it. Yet I cannot say of a surety that all was as I recall, for it is past; and there in lies the uncertainty. But my memories match certain of the legends, at the least, and others - in Tumnore - no doubt might confirm it," the black-haired Nenyan responded softly.

He allows himself a faint sigh, his fingers still moving oddly in empty air. "I do not know whether you are blessed or cursed in not remembering. There is much I would forget."
The Resurgent Dream
07-11-2004, 23:00
"We consider ourselves cursed." Angharad says simply.
Ma-tek
09-11-2004, 22:18
Semir-randil nods slowly, his fingers moving in a quick flurry. There's a gentle rocking motion, and then a hiss of air as the seal breaks open again, and the segment of the hull flows down to the ground. "We've arrived," the Nenyan states needlessly, a small smile flittering across his features.
The Resurgent Dream
10-11-2004, 04:18
Where they've arrived is a large open field of verdent grasses. Off in the background, the fields pass into a line of trees and a small walled city seems to lie in the other direction.

Angharad steps out of the ship, smiling. "Thank you dearly, Your Imperial Majesty. Would you wish to return with me to my mother's court? I'm sure you would be warmly received."

The sidhe lady smooths out her nightgown, blushing a little at very fact that she's wearing it. "You do have my eternal thanks and friendship, whatever that is worth."
Ma-tek
24-11-2004, 23:40
Where they've arrived is a large open field of verdent grasses. Off in the background, the fields pass into a line of trees and a small walled city seems to lie in the other direction.

Angharad steps out of the ship, smiling. "Thank you dearly, Your Imperial Majesty. Would you wish to return with me to my mother's court? I'm sure you would be warmly received."

The sidhe lady smooths out her nightgown, blushing a little at very fact that she's wearing it. "You do have my eternal thanks and friendship, whatever that is worth."

Following her with the grace one would expect from a race descended from the Noldor branch of the Quendi, Semir-randil stares out at the land around him with his piercing amber eyes. And speaking of visual sensory organs, his eyes are as polite as his words, it is to be clearly noted, and if he has even noticed the lack of more fitting clothes rather than a nightgown, he is far too honourable a being to bring attention to it.

Quietly, he notes, "I intend to come this way in the near future on more official business, my Lady, and I suspect a visit would be more fitting then. There would be too many explanations needed, were a high-ranking foreign dignitory to arrive unasked for and unexpected - and without permission. I would be fain to accept your gracious invitation at the future date, however."

He smiles; it's a warm, gentle smile, given to the world both by lips and ancient, sparkling eyes. "And the thanks and friendship of but one being is as precious as the warmth of the Sun upon the very fields which feed and clothe us, if those thanks and friendship are indeed eternal; for it is ever so that there is little indeed that could last so greatly."
Akaton
25-11-2004, 15:16
OOC:
The Resurgent Dream telegramed me to tell you that they are having technical difficulties with the forums. They will be back as soon as possible.
The Resurgent Dream
30-11-2004, 00:14
Angharad curtsies deeply. "Then I hope to see you then. Fare well until we should again meet. And, once more, my thanks."
Ma-tek
30-11-2004, 01:36
Semir-randil smiles as he slips back into the craft, saying only: "It is and shall be my honour," before the outer hull again slips back into place.

It lifts into the air quickly, strangely wobbling as it does (though none of that motion was apparent on the inside); only a very quiet thrum accompanying the motion, and rapidy gains altitude, soon disappearing into the deep blue of the sky.
The Resurgent Dream
30-11-2004, 02:33
FIN
Pantocratoria
30-11-2004, 06:15
OOC: Out of interest, with whom should an agent for an interested buyer consult to make suitable arrangements?
The Resurgent Dream
30-11-2004, 07:01
OOC: She's not available anymore. Sorry, man. You missed it. Maybe something like this could happen again, if you're interested, especially with the war coming. Or you could just have the interested part abduct someone. TG me.
Pantocratoria
30-11-2004, 07:08
OOC: Oh yes, I know she's not available anymore, but I am interested in having one of my characters pay some slavers to abduct somebody (else) for him. I'll telegram you.
The Resurgent Dream
30-11-2004, 07:11
OOC: A redcap by the name of Firnach