With the half-occupation of Menari by the Vehrakt, the Aldani Counsel has decided that it would be safest to remove the royal family (or person at this current time) away from Menari. Actually, it was part of the treaty, they had no choice. They chose a site SouthEast of Menari to build a new castle and palace, someplace easily defended and secure for the future of the Aldani. A Great Campsite was set up and construction began. Cirall, the current Queen of the Aldani is actually living here amongst the hustle and bustle of construction.
Vahn-One word describes the blue behemoth before you: massive. Cobalt blue scales cover this 10'3" veteran. Wide of shoulder and covered in muscles, you'd think you're looking at a draconian linebacker. His wings are sails of the darkest midnight blue, his chest a lighter, sky blue. His crest of spines running down his head and back are black as coal, denoting him as Aldani. His one eye you can see is a deep golden amber color. His other eye is hidden by a metallic patch that actually looks like it's rivited to the skin and bone beneath! On the patch is engraved his personal emblem for himself and Light's gate, a fist clutching a shining diamond.
Flowing pants fall from his waist and tie at his ankles, fronted by a loincloth also decorated in embroidery of the shining diamond. Leather sandals protect the pads of his feet without impeding his toes and claws, straps wrapping up around his ankles. He wears a long sleeveless vest made of supple black leather that hangs to the side about knee-length. It is slit in the back from the waist down so his tail can move easily. His left upper arm has a silver metal band wrapped around it, a single emerald set into it. Small engravings cover the rest of the band. Scars, both large and small cover his arms in places. Some made by natural cause, some by metal weapons. This male is a warrior. Both arms from the wrist half-way to the elbow has black leather bracers that match the vest. The leather has been tooled with knotwork and other designs. A single emerald also graces these bracers just behind the wrist. On his head, the left horn has an engraved silver ring bound around it, another single emerald dangles from it like an earring.
A huge dracoinian greatsword hangs from it's holder across his back, the handle sticking up from between his wings, the end to the side of his tail. The sword handle is wrapped in simple leather. This is weapon for use, not decoration.
Cirall-Cirall is a tall, yet slim young dragoness. Being only 210 years old, her height is quite tall. She stands at about 7'10" vertically, but if you stretched her out, she's almost 12' in total length and appears very athletic and in shape for her *still* young age. Black spines stick out from her back, defenitely marking her as one of the Tal'Aldani. Piercing green eyes stare at you, yet seem gentle. Her scales are a deep shade of teal blue. Her underside colors tend towards a more teal blue/green as do the membranes of her wings. She is attired in a loose-fitting pair of forest green pants with a matching deep blue top. Her head is adorned with a simple gold rope tied around it.
Cirall is usually accompanied by a pair of personal bodyguards, a set of forest green twins, MoonLight and SunBright. Both females look big and strong enough to carry themselves in a fight very well. Both wear close-cut uniforms in solid black with the Aldani crest emblazoned in silver on their breasts. They both carry spears and have plenty of throwing knives handy on their persons if need be.
Burkaar-A male dragon, of well-toned physique, standing about 7 feet tall. He is dark blue on his back, while his underside is a slightly paler green. The two colors come together on his side in a fairly rapid shift from one to the other. A single row of gleaming black spines runs down the back of his head and neck, delicately painted and ornamented around the base of each one..
Although his stride is heavy, he moves with the grace and bearing of his kind, head held proudly upwards. He wears what seems a fairly simple white robe, but a closer glance shows it to be impeccibly tailored.
Dahliah-One might notice, or not if she prefers it, that Liah is deceptively average dragon in size. She's rather strong though few have gone to the trouble to get past her charms. Her coloring is mottled emerald that melts to a darker forest green color across her limbs. Her wings are the same forest color as her arms and, unfurled, they span nearly 18 feet. The dark brown orbs that are her eyes are set forward slightly, and seem to take in everything around her with calm and cool acceptance. Her face is something to look at twice, the first look would reveal little, only a mildly attractive female, but the second reveals a complex and beautiful young dragoness. Spines of pure jet run down her back, all the way to the very tip of her tail. Her posture usually betrays self-confidence with a slight tinge of pride. A silken dress of soft white hangs from her shoulders, its low back and collar hemlines embroidered in a dark green that rivals her own coloring. A decorative silver belt with a golden buckle loosely rests over her hips. She wears a small patch at the center of her chest, embroidered with a dragon's eye crying over a small chalice.
Strethan-A study of power in control, speed and precision in harmony. This dragon is almost unassuming in physical stature, an average 8'6" in height with a supple, slender build. It is in his movements, in the smooth and efficient flow of limbs and body, that it becomes apparent that he is much more than first glances would imply. The muscles visible as he moves are wiry, toned to sinuous strength, and his forearms especially show extraordinary development. Scales of a cool, pale yellow hue predominate on his head, back, and limbs, blending to a pale yellow-orange on throat and belly with his wingsails a deeper reddish-orange; the colors traditional to the scions of House Dawn-Wing. His jet-black Aldani dorsal spines and crystalline emerald eyes stand in striking contrast against his paler scales, with his gaze alert and penetrating. Scars and battlewounds mark him as a veteran of fierce personal combat; his right horn has long been severed some 1/4 of the way from the base, his left upper fang of the proud four has lost its tip, and the tip of his tail is missing as well.
He wears a tunic of royal blue on his torso, the chest embroidered in silver thread with the crest of the Royal House: a simple silver tiara beneath crossed silver spears bearing dragon wings. This combined with elaborate silver rope knots at his shoulders mark his rank as Captain of the Royal Guard, personally charged with home defense and the Queen's own safety. The tunic does nothing to hinder his movements should action be necessary, the fit of the material loose and flowing. Half-sleeves tie at his elbows with silver cord, and the tunic itself fastens behind in the traditional manner of Aldani clothing: cords tied beneath the base of the neck and at the small of the back secure the tunic while leaving his wings and sails unimpeded. Black trousers clothe his legs while allowing his tail full freedom, tied in back above the tailbase and at the shins just before ankles angle down into long-toed, clawed feet.
Strethan does bear some small amount of jewelry; The missing horn has been capped with onyx-tipped silver and etched with traceries of flowing water, a reference to his Flow Of Steel swordstyle. His missing fangtip has been replaced with a point of diamond, and the severed tip of his tail now sports a steel cap to which he can affix a slender scale-slicing blade for purposes of combat. From the tip of his remaining full horn hangs a short chain of delicate gold supporting a pendant in the shape of his House's sigil, a dragon's wing on a golden sunburst.
As his only personal armor he bears bracers and greaves of gleaming steel, etched with the wing-sunburst emblem. The bracers protect his forearms and the backs of his hands and fingers, articulated and secured to leave his palms, claws, and the undersides of his fingers bare. Similarly the greaves include plates that shield the upper surfaces of his feet but leave his pads and claws unhindered.
Crossed low over his hips are a pair of fastdraw swordbelts, holding the matched longswords which are as much an extension of his body as his own hands. Named figuratively for the respective glamors they each bear, they are simple and unadorned, intended for use rather than show. 'Cascade' bears a simple disk of lapis in its pommel, while 'Smoketouch' bears a disk of polished hematite.
The setting is the Great Campsite. It is mid-afternoon on a rather dreary and wet day. For a little while, the clouds spread to let a little warmth and sun shine through, but it is only a moment before that could change.
Cirall stands under a shading pavilion, watching the unloading of yet another wagon come to bring supplies to the campsite. Two planners stand off to the side, muttering over some papers...probably blueprints or layout plans of some sort.
Vahn says, "You should really leave the gruntwork to underlings like myself your ladyship"
Cirall turns to the speaker and chuckles, "I'm allowed to watch, am I not, Lord Vahn?" She points back at the two muttering dragons, "I should be over there trying to figure out what the hell is going on, but it's just too confusing." She shrugs, "So I just watch and try to figure it out that way."
Vahn lifts a barrel of cement dust from the wagon and carries it to the supply tent.
Cirall just watches from the protective shade provided by the pavillion and says to the industrious Vahn, "I'm told that they've excavated another twenty percent of the site and that contruction of the outer walls is already well under way."
Vahn says, "By all means. I was only trying remind your ladyship that wrestling with affairs of state are much more difficult than wrestling a barrel."
Vahn says, "Aye and projections say another 15 in the next month in addition to the foundations of the first 20."
Cirall snorts. "What affairs of state? Thanks to the damned Vehrakt, I don't have much of a state to affair with! The Counsel thought it would be wise if I just stayed here at the Campsite to over see everything here while they tried sorting things out in Menari." She sighs and just sits down on the ground where she is. "I feel helpless and unable to do anything right now. Hell, even SunBright and MoonLight are getting to help. They're with the exploration crew surveying the excavation sites to make sure it's safe."
Vahn says, "....your personal sacrifice for peace must have been greater than any of us would have been willing to give. I hope it is enough to last. Please forgive my impertenance." Vahn sets down another barrel.
Vahn says, "Your personal trials are your affairs of state. That is your lot in life."
Cirall shakes her head, "No, no impertenance, Lord Vahn. I only hope it lasts too." She sighs, "I just feel so, so helpless right now!" She empasizes this with a closed fist smacking the ground next to her. The sudden and unexpected impact causes one of the two other dragons to look up briefly, only to go back to talking about something to the other. She looks up at Vahn and asks, "You're busy with Light's Gate, yet you still come here and do brute force yourself when you have others to do it for you. Why should I be so different? Why should I be forced to sit out when everyone's doing all this for me and my people?"
Vahn says, "I hope so to , for if it doesn't, the Vehrakt stand poised to cleave Aldani holdings in twain."
Cirall still waits for the answer to her second question...why?
Vahn helps lift a steel girder from the back of a huge wagon.
Vahn says, "This you'll truely love your ladyship with these girders we can build a glass dome above your courtyard so that rainbows dance about the walls."
Cirall smiles at the thought of the rainbows, but then frowns and looks directly at Vahn, "You're avoiding the question, Lord Vahn. Why do you get to help out despite your rank and I don't?"
Vahn appears to be getting ready to say something but then falters, he says "It is neccessary for those in the masses to view a political leader as above worldly matters, almost godlike. This allows them to sleep at night knowing they are guided by her every fiber of being. For a military leader to make his warriors fight to their utmost when the time comes, he must live and work and fight with them. That way they will die for him as he will for them."
Vahn leans on a slon and replies, "We must all decide what type of leader the greater good demands of us."
Vahn helps back a wagon of sand back to a huge tent.
Cirall props her elbows on her bents knees and her chin on her clasped hands, "I know, but as Queen, am I also not a military leader in some respects? I mean, I'm the one who says we fight or not. I'm the one who says 'go here, go there' in a fight. Am I not allowed the simple pleasure of working with my hands too? To be able to pick up a bag and make something with it's contents?" She's frustrated with life and is looking for answers.
Vahn says, "If menial acts were to amuse a divine leader I suppose no one could deny her the pleasure of playing with sand." Vahn begins assisting with the pulley to dump the sand, adding to the pile under the tent"
Cirall gets upset at the words spoken to her as she stands up rather quickly. "Playing? You think I'm just some kid at the beach *playing* with sand?" She's stormed rather close to Vahn by this point. "You think I'm some ignorant, petulant child who just wants *play*? Dammit, I want to actually DO SOMETHING AROUND HERE!!!" She's pissed and her rising voice has gotten the attention of more than a few dragons in the area, including the two with the layouts back at the pavillion. One of them just sighs and puts his face in one hand...
Vahn says, "May I speak frankly your majesty?"
Cirall stops huffing long enough to stand still, arms crossed before her, as she says crisply, "Be my damned guest."
Vahn bows and gestures towards an unocuppied precipace overlooking the lake.
Cirall looks to where Vahn points and waves her own arm, "After you, then." She's still not happy and it shows.
Vahn walks to the overlook and turns to look at Cirall.
Cirall puts both hands on her hips as Vahn walks off to the precipice. A second later, she let's out a sharp huff as she lowers her arms and follows after him.
Dahliah has arrived.
Vahn says, "All I am trying to say is you are expected to be above us, above our pain, our sweat, our blood, our tears. Even the most hardened dragon can't look into the faces of thousands of dragons that she has toiled with and tell them to suffer or die for her. All this heartache can be avoided by ignoring us on a personal level. But if you think yourself strong enough join and help, know our toil, our pain, our sweat, our tears, our love, our comradery. The choice of what type of leader you are is yours and no one elses. But you should know where a simple act of helping unload a wagon will take you. The decision is yours...I must go unload a wagon." Vahn walks back down the hill leaving Cirall alone looking out over the lake.
Burkaar walks alongside yet another great wagon, creaking under it's load of stone, wood, and myriad crates of tools and supplies. The wagonmaster vigerously encourages the tired Slon to make the last few hundred yards, and finally pulls the wagon through into position. The blue and green trademaster gives the exhausted beasts a pat on the forehead, then moves back to supervise the unloading of the wagon, checking items off a rather extensive list.
Cirall stares out over the waters, thinking over Vahn's words. The sounds of yet more wagons arriving returns her thoughts to the present. She turns and starts walking back to her pavillion, making sure she passes close enough to Vahn to whisper, "I hate you." It's said plainly, no malice, no actual hatred, just the distaste of being reminded of her place by one whose words ring true.
Dahliah, in a dark mood, seems to be drifting on the edge of everyone's vision, staying away from the din of the wagons. She seems to be avoiding people, yet watching things at the same time. There seems to be a drak cloud of uneasiness thick about her, growing worse as her dark eyes fall to Vahn and Cirall.
Vahn says, "LOOK OUT!" and leaps forward to give a hand to assist as a laborer slips in the mud under the weight of a steel beam.
Cirall looks up sharply as the cry goes out from Vahn!
Vahn says, "Are you alwright Dorwin?"
"I twisted my ankle!" Dorwin cries.
Vahn yells, "HEALER!"
Cirall points at a wandering worker and says in a strict voice, "You! Go get a Healer, quick!"
The dragon in question salutes the queen really quick before turning on his heel and dashing off to the healer's tent.
Burkaar's head snaps around to the cry as well... motion followed by thought... and immediately by motion again, as the dragon leaps, catching the edge of the wagon, surges upwards, then leaps again, his wings snapping out as he takes flight. Only two wingbeats are required, to take him to the scene of what could have been disaster, but which seems to have been averted thanks to the quick action of a dragon he does not quite recognize. He sets down gracefully, and moves to the side of the injured worker.
Vahn begins buckling under the weight as the beam shifts as a treelimb breaks sending a pulley flying
Vahn groans under the weight.
Dahliah slowly wanders up behind Cirall, sticking beside her for the moment, saying nothing as she watches.
Burkaar glances up to the beam, then over to Vahn... frowning slightly, for just a moment, before clasping Dorwin's hand in his own, and dragging the injured worker out of danger, should Vahn's strength fail. "Let it down!" he calls to the other, "Don't put yourself on a stretcher too!"
Vahn bridges his body over Dorwin with the beam on his back and cries out, "Someone move him!"
Cirall is focused on the near accident playing itself out before her, unawares of the visitor beside her at first. She sighs a breath of relief as a pair of healers come rushing to the scene. She then looks around to see if everyone is watching or going back to work. That's when she notices Dahliah. "Oh, hello there, Dahliah. Didn't see you at first."
Strethan is some distance back from the precipice, dividing up duties among a contingent of Royal Guard now that Cirall is safely surrounded by officers and aides. He studiously avoids intruding on her moment with Vahn, allowing only the briefest glance in her direction as Vahn returns and she lingers looking out upon the waters. He'll have his own quiet words for her later, but for now nothing will be served by interfering in Vahn's well-meant effort. As the Queen makes her way back to the pavilion, Strethan begins sending Guards off singly and in clusters, dispatching them on their errands... until the shout and cries from the damaged wagon spark uproar. To the last few Guards he snaps instantly, "Aid them!" and sprint-glides across the intervening distance. Swiftly he moves to help Vahn, directing a pair of Guards to bear Dorwin out of harm's way as Vahn indicated while enlisting the remaining two to help him ease the massive dragon's load.
Vahn says, "On 3 we drop to my right, ready?" He looks to his men then begins, "One, two, three!" Mud splashes upon anyone standing upon the road and the tailgate breaks on the left side under the weight of the beam.
Dahliah makes a small half smiles for her friend, "Hi Cirall." she chuckles softly and shakes her head, "I'm surprised you noticed me now." she gestures to the workers, and the healers. She shakes her head, "I really wish I could do something more useful... healing perhaps."
Vahn collapses in exhaustion not caring about the ankle deep mud.
Cirall groans at Dahliah's words. She turns to enter the pavillion's shade further, reaching to pour herself a glass of water. She turns and reaches for another glass, looking to Dahliah questioningly...?
Burkaar keeps an eye on the beam as it is finally released, mantling one wing partially over Dorwin's form, to keep the mud from splashing across him... which naturally results in himself getting well spattered. He nods to the royal guard, thanking them for their aid, as he stands, then steps to see how Vahn is doing, after the strain of holding up the great weight.
One of the healers turns abruptly at Vahn's sitting down, asking, "Are you hurt as well, my Lord?"
Vahn says, "No, just tired and old."
Vahn says, "Thank you."
The rain begins to fall again.
Dahliah makes a whirling motion with one of her hands, "No, but thanks." her eyes close and she rubs her head lightly.
Strethan nods at Vahn's words and follows the lead carefully, the combined efort avoiding further disaster beyond mud-stained clothing. The royal guards indicate it is their pleasure to help, and Strethan squats on his haunches beside Vahn's exhausted form. A hand claps the old soldier fondly but gently on one shoulder as he says, "Well done, old friend. Let's get you to a tent for a drink of something to light the fire in your belly." His wings lift and mantle, deflecting some rain from his collapsed second-in-command.
Cirall takes a deep drink of her glass before leaning against the edge of the heavy oak table. She sighs, "You think you're helpless, how about me? I'm the 'high and mighty queen, above the petty work of the average layman'." She snorts, "Bunch of crap if you ask me, but a queen's gotta do what a queen's gotta do." She takes another sip of water. "So, how're things in Menari? Is the Temple adapting to the change alright?"
The disaster of the moment averted, Burkaar simply nods slightly as the guard disperses, and more capable hands than his tend to helping the much larger dragon up, and to shelter. He looks up at the clouds, sighs, and gives his wings a flick, shedding some of the wet mud from them, as he slogs back to his own wagon.
Vahn eyes Strethan with his one good eye. "Aye, I'll be there as soon as we get this last beam out of the weather, with your permission, sir."
Strethan tilts his head slightly as he returns Vahn's gaze, and his jaws part in a hint of a grin. "Permission granted, of course... mind you, you'll be there that much faster if I help." He rises smoothly, wings flicking themselves somewhat cleaner.
Strethan surveys the damage to the wagon as Vahn prepares to attach a pulley, the better to avoid a repeat performance of the last beam movement.
Vahn calls to laborers for tarps as he approaches Strethan.
Burkaar cautions the crew unloading to extra caution, given the slippery conditions, though the warning is hardly needed after the event of moments ago. When the most critical items are accounted for, and their placement directed, the trademaster turns over the inventory duties to a subordinate, and walks away from the organized chaos of the unloading area. Only when he is well into the forest of tents and pavillions does he allow the exhaustion to show, head bent and wings slightly drooped. He pauses to wipe water from his face, giving a soft snort of amusement as he looks down to his muddied garments.
Dahliah nods and rolls her eyes, "I'd be out there actually. Curse whoever said otherwise." she shrugs, "Then again I'm not queen... never wanted the job, personally. What I have is enough." she looks down again, "The Temple..." her head shakes, "Its doing well as could be expected. Some of my priestesses dislike the changes... but I expected it." she looks up, eyes curious, "Did word reach you about Sari? The girl I'd started training?"
Strethan flexes his arms and back, preparing for the effort as his tail gives a lash over the mud. He looks to Vahn and nods.
Vahn says, "We're going to have to wait till this place dries out."
Cirall tilts her head, thinking. "Sari, Sari...." Recognition returns, "Oh yeah, the little red one? She has promise if I remember her right. What about her?"
Vahn says, "It has to come out of the mud, but we can't move it until we get a more permanent solution to the pulley problem."
Vahn says, "We may be able to use blocks to prop it up until tommorrow."
Dahliah sighs, shaking her head, "She's dead, they found her not far from the temple a week ago... We're still not sure what happened, exactly."
One of the two dragons who had been mulling over paperwork and plans, comes to the edge of the great pavillion and looks around as if looking for someone. It doesn't take long before his face brightens and he calls out, "There you are, Lord Burkaar! Were you able to get all the mortar sand this time? I know they are running low, but it's really needed *here*." My my, how the mighty are picky.
Cirall freezes her hand in the process of taking another sip as she hears the fate of Dahliah's student. She lowers the glass and asks quietly, "What? I thought I'd left enough Archons to protect the temple. Was anyone else hurt?" She looks quite shocked and surprised to hear this.
Burkaar gives his head a brief shake, blinking his eyes clear of the steady patter of rain, before he recognizes the one who calls to him. "Not all of the best grade," he replies, advancing toward the great pavillion. At some times, he'd love to just walk in this lovely rain. But not today, and he's grateful to find shelter from it. "So we worked a compromise. Eighty percent of what was requested is of a very high quality... and they matched that, pound for pound, with a slightly lesser grade."
Dahliah shakes her head, "No, we think it happened between shifts... One of the guards hear a noise when he reported to his post... went to check it out and found the poor girl."
Vahn begins pulling tarps over the mud caked beam.
Strethan settles his wings and gazes critically up at the sky. "With the weather as it is, we'd best get this last one moved into shelter as best we can today." He looks over the damaged wagon again, then continues, "We may not be able to rig pulleys, but with enough rope and dragon arms I'd wager we can get it off the bed and under cover."
Vahn says, "Can we get enough arms?"
Vahn begins tying tarps down to the beam.
Both Burkaar and the other dragon wander into the deep recesses of the back of the pavillion to talk about shipments and what's needed in the next one and so forth. Warm fireberry wine is handed to both dragons to keep out the chill of the rain, chairs welcoming at the large oak table set aside for the planners and engineers.
Vahn says, "I'd hate to have to force the smiths to reforge this."
Strethan gazes around, and nods thoughtfully. "Give me a few moments to fly over the camp, and we'll have Royal Guards aplenty to help us. And one thing I'll say for the mud: it should cushion the beam somewhat once it leaves the wagon. Do we have enough rope? I'll round up 20 strong backs to haul them."
Vahn goes to the tool tent to gather 400' of rope and some rags wrapped in a tarp.
Cirall looks saddened by this news. She half asks, half talks to herself, "But why a priestess? Could the Vehrakt *already* be getting restless with their new home?" She's starting to look upset again.
Strethan springs into the air as Vahn gathers the rope, circling out over the sprawling encampment and directing the first 20 available guards he finds to gather at the wagon. Returning to the site, he confers with Vahn on the best formation to ease the beam off the wagon.
Vahn begins tying handles in pairs to the beam.
Vahn says, "If we just pull it into the mud and drag it, the mud should act as a lubricant."
Strethan nods his agreement, "My thoughts exactly." He eyes the beam, and grins, "You oversee that side, and I will take this one. 10 dragons to a side and we'll follow your guidance."
Vahn says, "Thanks for your trust..again."
Vahn says, "The cadence is one, two, three, heave."
Dahliah merely shrugs, "Thats what I suspect, but there's no evidence pointing their way." she sighs and wanders away for a few steps, "I've got an idea that might help.... if I can pull it off." she wiggles her fingers to indicate magic. "I can't sit aside and wait, not after this." she comments darkly.
Strethan inclines his head to Vahn, "You know what you're about, old friend. My trust is well-placed." He claps scaled palms together and directs his 10 dragons to their places. "When you're ready, then."
Vahn says, "One, two, three, heave!"
Vahn says, "One , two, three, heave!" The wagon groans.
Vahn says, "One , two, three, heave!"
Vahn says, "One , two, three, heave!"
Vahn says, "One , two, three, heave!"
Cirall looks closely at her good friend. "What do you have in mind, Dahliah...? You have your own responsibilites and restraints that come with a position of power. You're High Priestess, don't forget that." She's worried her friend might have something reckless in mind...as usual.
Strethan, Vahn, and 20 guardsmen are covered to the waist in mud.
Vahn says, "One , two, three, heave!"
Vahn says, "One , two, three, heave!"
Strethan follows the powerful dragon's cadence, leading the team on his side of the wagon in steadily easing the beam off the wagon. The mud splashes even higher on their bodies when the beam finally clears the wagonbed and thuds deeply into the muck.
The first two guardsmen gain a better footing as they step onto the mortar pad beneath the materials' pavillion.
Vahn says, "One, two, three, heave!"
Vahn says, "One, two, three, heave!"
Vahn says, "One, two, three, heave!"
Dahliah makes a face, now pacing, "Cirall, what good is said position if you sit aside when things get tough? I can't let them die, I just can't... and this should help everyone. There are priestesses that can take my place if need be..." the last is said quietly, almost to herself.
Strethan feels the sudden end of rain in his eyes as he crosses the threshold.
Vahn says, "One, two, three, heave!"
Vahn says, "One, two, three, heave!"
Vahn says, "One, two, three, heave!"
Strethan digs clawed toes deeply for purchase, leaning into the effort as 22 dragons bodily drag the massive beam through the mud to shelter.
With the entire weight of the beam on the mortarbed, the beam refuses to move another cubit.
Cirall looks long and hard at Dahliah, her voice low but just as upset, "Do you think I like it myself, being forced to stand aside as dragons lay down their lives for me?" She waves her arm out the entrance to the pavillion, "To watch as dragons get hurt before my very eyes while they slave and toil for *my* benefit? I want to help just as much as anyone else out there, but I have no choice but to stay and do my duty. And if you're thinking of quiting, you can just damned well forget it, sister. Ain't happening!" Her arm slices the air with finality. Shes huffing and puffing like she was from Vahn's talk.
Vahn says, "Well, it's out of the weather..." He pants, "I believe you said something about a horn of wine?"
Vahn says, "I believe we all earned it today."
Strethan breathes deeply and slowly after the effort, and nods resolutely. "I did indeed. Drink all around, the strongest we can scare up!" A cheer rises from the 20 panting, mud-stained guards.
A roar of gratitude rises from 21 dragons!
A small groan can be heard from the worker's tent as they realize 22 hungry, thirsty and dirty dragons are about to congregate upon them. A page can be seen running for more food supplies from a nearby tent.
Strethan walks with Vahn in the lead, praising his strong showing with Dorwin and the movement of the beams. Matters segue into discussion of the camp, the contrustion, and Light's Gate as the group bears down on the worker's tent.
Vahn says, "It's just my job you praise me for."
Vahn says, "Nothing more."
Dahliah shakes her head, "I don't quit anything, Cirall... You've known me since we were little, you should know that much about me..." she chuckles softly, "This isn't just for you, you know....If thats what you mean, the palace here. The new palace means much to everyone. Its a symbol, and a place we all need..."
Strethan is used to Vahn's self-deprecating attitude, but also firmly believes in credit where credit is due. "Your job, yes, but a job well done earns praise. Nothing more, perhaps, but certainly nothing less."
Vahn is chafing under logic he can't argue with and smiles, chuckling lightly.
Cirall takes a deep breath and looks Dahliah cooly in the eyes and asks softly, "What are you up too, Dahli? I know you." She looks saddened, almost helpless again, "At least tell me please, before you do it."
Vahn says, "I don't like these happenings in Menari."
Strethan sobers as Vahn nudges the conversation toward the subject lurking in the back of everyone's mind. "I don't think anyone is pleased with the compromise, besides the Vehrakt... I fear for our capital, but at least the Queen is safe, praise Spiritus."
Vahn says, "I fear for more than Menari."
Dahliah nods, meeting her friend's eyes sadly, "I will, of course. But you won't be able to stop me... " she shakes her head and leans in to hug Cirall, "I must head off, I need to get back to the temple. Rest easy, my friend, I won't leave until I tell you my plan."
Strethan grinds his fangs faintly and nods again, this time having no words to answer... truly, their fears are many and prominent.
Vahn says, "If they go to war and take Menari, they need only sweep south to link up with the Vehrakt from the interface keep."
Cirall hugs her friend, hoping it's not for the last time. "Rest easy yourself, Dahli. And remember, if there is *anyway* I can help, you know you have but to ask."
Vahn says, "If they do that, the capitol will be cut off from all outside help."
Strethan says, "Aye, Menari gives them for too great a clawhold in our lands... but this is poor talk for fireberry wine! Let us enjoy our drinks, and discuss matters of war at a later hour." He leads the way onward into the tent."
Dahliah pulls away, nodding, "I will, on both counts." she offers a bob of her head before slipping back into the path toward the temple.
An early bottle of fireberry wine starts to make it's rounds through the tired group before they make it to the tent.
Vahn drinks the last of this bottle and makes a very agreeable thump as he hits the ground.
Vahn starts to snore long and loudly. He's had a tiring day and it finally caught up to him.
Two of the muddy guards laugh at Vahn's tiredness and each get on either side of him, grabbing him from around each arm at the shoulder and proceed to drag him unconcious body off to the tent so he can at least sleep out of the rain.
Strethan weaves steadily as he leads a rousing, occasionally coherent chorus of song promising to do many decidedly unfriendly and anatomically improbably things to their Vehrakt enemies.