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Topics - Aliel

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IC - General / Of Hunts and Houses
« on: March 23, 2009, 08:08:34 pm »
[[OOC: Quick note about locations - with the exception of one scene, all of the following takes place on a continent east of Tharel. I don't know how long I'll keep posting this here, since if I were to tell it properly it would become quite lengthy, but I'll continue to post for the time being. Anyways, without further ado, back to IC affairs.  :) ]]




         The House of Izzu'ri had stood for many long years, longer than even its founders had ever dreamed it would. It was built upon a foundation of lies and greed, pride and malice, and, above all other things, devotion. All of these, but especially the last, had nurtured it from a house of humble origins to possessor of a power so heady that only the highest among the Izzu'ri echelons truly understood just how deep the currents ran. It was in these few that the devotion flowed strongest of all, and one or two thanked their own piety for all that the house had become. But such notions did not last long. Most knew full well where the source of all their fortunes lay, and it was to this, to Darkness and its Lord that they dedicated their lives, their deaths, and their triumphs - for they had known nothing but triumph. Theirs was a Lord of Destruction, but he had not destroyed them. Instead, he had raised them on high, and after one look at the vast, seething expanses below they knew, beyond all doubt, that they could not be content with anything less than the power they had been offered, that sweet, frissioned air that so few others had breathed. They held on to what had been offered with hungry, clever hands, and none among their faithful would ever think - ever dream - of letting go.

         The Izzu'ri had been playing the game for a very, very long time.
         Some might even say that they had won.

*****

         Hanol was a small, snowy town about a week?s travel north of Terrason, which, cold and isolated as it was, saw little excitement most of the year save the odd traveler passing though. The travelers were good news for a number of reasons, but namely because they brought with them two things: gold and gossip. The colorful merchant caravans that stopped by now and then were especially well-received, because they always had both in ample supply. One relatively quiet evening, late, but not so late that the shops were closed, just such a caravan came riding into town.
         Koric, the aging but cheerful master of Hanol?s only inn, saw the young woman come in with the other merchants and rushed over with a smile and a tankard when she took a seat at the bar. But when she shook her head and asked politely for ?just water,? his face fell. Occasionally the caravans would take on passengers, for reasons that varied ? all Koric knew was that passengers usually had smaller purses than the merchants, and that the woman was definitely one of them. Still, a customer was a customer. He fetched her some water and hurried off to see to the rest of the travelers, most of whom had settled down at the tables, laughing and chatting amongst themselves. Koric took pride in being a fine host, and that night he did himself proud. He swapped greetings with each of the merchants, learned all of their names, served drinks without spilling a drop, told his best jokes without stumbling on a single line, and kept up a polite smile even when the table by the stairs called for their twelfth round, at which point he usually offered to escort patrons to their rooms.
         The woman at the bar went mostly unnoticed, busy as he was tending to the others. It was not until he went to fetch the requested round twelve that he heard her ask, ?Begging your pardon, but how long do you think it would take to reach Tobias? place from here??
         Koric?s ample eyebrows shot up, his automatic smile replaced by a look of disbelief. ?All the way to Old Toby?s place in weather like this?? Surely you jest, lass! Unless?are you the friend he?s been expecting??
         She nodded. He noticed with a small start that she wore the mark of Barbades, and when he spoke again his tone was kinder. ?I hear your folk do a great deal of traveling, but even so ? it?s risky in this weather, take my word for it.?
         ?It would hardly be any less so were the weather different,? said the woman with a faint smile.
         Koric had to agree that this was true.
         He supposed he must have told her the way there, though later he could remember nothing else of their conversation no matter how hard he tried. And try he did in the months to come, for after paying for a room and retiring, she left the next morning without a trace, until word eventually came from the next town that she had never made it there. Lost in the snowstorm, they said, when the search party, as was all too often the case, failed to find anything. Koric supposed he had been the last person to see her alive. It was a morbid thought, but not an uncommon one amidst the northern snows. The winter took many with it each year, and that was simply the way of things. Sometimes he wondered what her name had been ? but that memory, too, escaped him.

*****

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IC - General / A Notice
« on: February 20, 2009, 08:00:57 am »
      Large squares of parchment flutter quietly in the wind. They are of thick vellum, and posted in all the major cities of Tharel; the same pictures and message stare out at the world from various notice boards and market squares. They all read as follows:

[ W A N T E D ]

      Gateo Izzu?ri, last seen seven months ago; Aliel Izzu?ri, seen eight months ago. Should either be sighted or heard from, immediately report their whereabouts to any member of House Izzu?ri or any trusted follower of the Lord Ytrewtsu. They are to be apprehended if possible ? but taken ALIVE. If an attempt to capture them does not succeed, notify the above authorities at once; all information is still considered useful, and as such will be rewarded.

      Below the notice are two images, one beside the other. On the left is a man, tall and angular, clad in hunting leathers and wrapped in a wind-tossed cloak. His hair is dark and unruly, and tosses more shadows across the hollows of his somber features. He appears to be in his mid-twenties by human standards, though the grayish cast of his skin suggests that he may well be older. Beneath the picture, there are a few short lines:
     Lord Gateo Izzu?ri
     Reward: 400,000 gold
     The other picture is that of a young woman, slightly shorter and more lithe than her companion, though her hair is likewise dark. It falls smoothly to her shoulders, framing a thin, pale face; she wears an elegant dress, though somewhat uneasily, as if not used to such attire. Resting just above the dress?s hem is the mark of Barbades, strung on a thin chain around her neck. Written just below the picture are the words:
     Aliel Izzu?ri, Rha?sion of Barbades
     Reward: 300,000 gold

     Centered at the bottom of the parchment is a large seal. The image of a stylized dagger, blade downwards, is embedded in the wax. The wax itself is so deep a red that it almost appears black.

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