Topic: Resonance

Izora de Chiegny

Date: 2010-05-24 14:02 EST
(Note on timeline: The events of this post begin after the end of the "Alistair's first job" thread, found here. Thanks!)

Erzebet von Rioght's office was a study in luxury. The walls were painted a dark cream in color, almost a yellow-ivory, with molding in white. The many bookshelves, which held a hundred treatises on magick alone, were also white, set in the wall. Even in May, the fireplace was lit, smoke trailing merrily up the chimney. Cedar, pine, and balsam—the scented smoke gave the room a perfume all its own, touched lightly with the scent of ink and paper. Above the fireplace hung a painting—perhaps as a warning, perhaps as a tribute. Difficult to tell, because it was a painting of the Knight Guilds driving an Uthmuri back over the mountains. While impressive, the Uthmuri were never a pleasant topic. That the Paladin Lord chose to display them was a show of her own strength, in and of itself.

Erzebet von Rioght, formidable as ever, sat behind a desk. It looked like a fortress in white, and dwarfed the woman behind it. Papers were scattered across the blotter, most waiting for her signature and seal, others waiting for the touch of her squire and envoy, Nicholas val Mandrian, to deliver them where they needed to go. The young man was absent now; his desk, a much smaller and less elaborate version of Erzebet's own, set off to one side of the room, stood empty. Likely, he had already been sent off with a stack of missives already, and the Paladin Lord now awaited his return.

Izora de Chiegny fidgeted, standing before that desk. Her own missive had called her from the stables, ordering her presence before Erzebet as soon as possible. It meant that she'd taken only long enough to wash the stink of horse from herself (she'd been visiting Stardust and Chompers, truth be told, as today had been a leisure day until the summons). It had taken her long enough, but she appeared before the Paladin Lord in tunic and trews and the de Chiegny tabard over all of that.

She stared at the painting of the Uthmuri over Erzebet's head, and waited for the Paladin Lord to acknowledge her presence. But the grey-shot auburn of the older woman's head did not move.

Distantly, clanging began down the hall, ringing through the chambers. It grew louder with swiftness, and then, the Paladin Lord raised her head.

The door to Erzebet's office thumped open, thudding against the wall and bouncing back against the Templar's extended hand with another loud CLANG! Izora jumped. Alistair's stubble-covered face had a light dusting of danish crumbs, and he was chewing. Another half-eaten cheese danish sat in his free hand, and he looked at it, then to the Paladin Lord and the White Knight with a sunny smile.

"I brought you a cheese danish!" he exclaimed with boyish enthusiasm. ?"but I ate it."

"I see that, Alistair," Erzebet said, a smile crossing her lips briefly. Izora stared at the Paladin Lord for a moment, disbelief on her face, then lifted a hand to her forehead and sighed.

"You called for us, Lady?" Izora asked, letting the Templar chew. Which he did, not at all quietly, lifting a gauntleted hand to awkwardly wipe his face. Erzebet nodded.

"I have new orders for you. I want the pair of you to ride about Rhydin City and the outskirts and do your best to map the areas of Resonance."

Izora's eyes widened at that, and she swallowed. "My lady, you are aware that at least in the environs of the Red Dragon Inn, that this will be nearly impossible?"

"You—what?" Alistair blinked. "I haven't a very good ear for music you know. They kicked me out of the chantry choir right about when my voice changed because Brother Geoff said I kept scaring the sisters into thinking there were undead moaning about in the halls. Do we get a tuning fork and a chance to hum along" I do love a good tune, even though I can't sing."

Erzebet von Rioght, Paladin Lord, stared. Alistair stared back at her innocently. Izora sighed again.

"Alistair. It isn't musical resonance. Lady Erzebet means magickal Resonance."

"Oh," Alistair replied.

Another Shiny Knight

Date: 2010-05-25 11:18 EST
Alistair's brows wrinkled above his nose, creating a tiny little furrow too. This expression was a familiar one to both ladies, it meant he was thinking. And as rare as many people thought it was for him to do. . . He did do it. Thinking. Sometimes. Mostly a lot about cheese and how best to ensure his hair remained youthful and stylish at the same time.

But, he could in fact, think. And right now?"Waaaaaait a mooooment," possibly interrupting a terribly serious discussion Izora and Lady Rioght were already having.

"Have either of you, you know, walked around Rhydin lately' It's like?" Here he stopped to offer Izora the half eaten cheese danish still sitting in his metal covered hand. He looked confused and mildly hurt when she cringed away from it and stared at him like he'd just launched into a stirring rendition of The Lady and the Knight. ?"well, for me anyway, it's like constantly walking through a thunderstorm about to hit. You know that feeling?" He looked cheerfully between the two women. "It's sorta like when you were young in your woolen socks and drug them over the carpet until your hair stood up and you could zaaaaaaaap someone." Here, Alistair chortled gleefully. "Oh, I used to love doing that to?"

Were both women dead silent and staring at him with blank eyes and mouth slightly agape"

Yes. A little. Maybe. Where was he" Oh, right"

"Everything here is either coated in magic, magic maintained, manipulated, formed or magic-spent. Everywhere I go it feels like someone is either casting or has just cast." He shoved the remainder of the cheese danish Izora rejected, and chewed thoughtfully.

"So how are we supposed to map something that's eeeeeeeeeeeevvvvvveeeeeeeerryyyyyyyyyyyy where?"

Alistair tried to wipe his fingers on his breast plate, Clang, twang, clink, and then glanced between both women expectantly for the answer.

Izora de Chiegny

Date: 2010-05-25 12:05 EST
Izora made a slight bow, then, to Alistair, which was a rather quick about face from the horrified expression she'd wore when he'd offered her the danish.

It had been a good question, after all.

"That is precisely the question I was asking, my lady. I do not know how to explain it better. There is just so much use of magick here, I fail to see just how we—how I can map it, really." No offense to Alistair and his many talents was intended there, but his likely gave him no ability to map Resonance like Erzebet wanted.

The Paladin Lord sighed.

"Very well, then, I suppose I can't ask you to map within the city limits. I will ask you to try at least, if there are places with single Resonance layers. Beyond that, you will be mapping directly outside the city proper. Say in a measure of ten miles" That seems sufficient for our purposes, at the moment."

Not that Izora could imagine why the Paladin Lord cared. Or the Kingdom of Anberas. Or even the entire Servryn Alliance. But there were the orders, laid bare before her by Lady von Rioght, and that was the duty Izora had sworn to, before she had come here.

Elee, sometimes she felt so stupid. Maybe that was how Alistair felt all the time.

It wasn't proper to ask.

"As you say, my lady. Is there a particular span of time we have for this, then?" As both the attempt to map the city proper, and the attempt to map the regions outside, were going to take quite some time. And supplies. And camping, and hunting, and Elee knew what else...

Erzebet's russet brows furrowed, and she lifted a hand to rake through her hair, a pensive look crossing her face. Izora knew well that the woman was shrewd enough to take everything she had just thought of into consideration, and more. Pale blue eyes moved from her to the Templar who stood beside her, looking at crumb covered gauntlet and shaking it to try to dislodge said crumbs.

"I will expect a preliminary map, say, by the end of two months time?"

Izora gave a sigh of relief, then, and nodded. A preliminary map was not the finished product, after all. There might be a way for her to do a bit of research and see if there had been any other attempts by the other assorted Kingdoms in the Embassy to map Resonance, though the half-elf suspected there probably weren't. Anberas had more than its share of ambitious people, and the Lady von Rioght was noted for being one of them.

"You two are dismissed, then. And Sir Theirin" Do try to treat this with some sense of decor, might you?" Erzebet sent a rather tolerant smile after Alistair.

Izora only sighed.

Another Shiny Knight

Date: 2010-05-25 14:13 EST
Mapping" Mapping sounded incredibly easy to him and not something he should entirely be alarmed about. Though he made a note that he'd have to force himself to be less Templar, more Alistair when Izora needed to work because it's really rather difficult'so he'd been told by several upset mages which weren't his fault they didn't know better than to cast in front of a Templar"to do when he kept draining their mana.

He can't help it. Most of the time. It had been drilled into him so much by the Chantry that it was near instinct to keep some form of magi-dampening around him.

He's sure during the two months he could totally learn to unlearn things he'd been trained to do since he was a small boy. Right' Right!

Lady Rioght's dismissal and last words got Alistair to stand at attention and salute smartly.

Which would have actually worked had he not cherry filling on his gauntlet that left a line of sticky-sugar-red on his brow and he idiot-grinned after.

"Ser! You can count on me!" And then missed Lady Rioght's slightly alarmed look as he elbowed Izora and said in a loud whisper. A very loud whisper. "I think she likes us."

Izora de Chiegny

Date: 2010-05-27 15:51 EST
Izora had spent much of the next two days packing. The nights had steadily been growing warmer, as had the days, but she did not trust the weather to hold. Better she kick her way out of a tangle of too many blankets, than shiver and have to make large bonfires just to keep herself warm.

Most of the foodstuff she'd brought had been dried vegetables, grains, and spices. Izora had more than enough skill in the woods to find edible roots and leaves, and despite the fact that she wasn't often pleased by having to kill wildlife, she had just enough human blood in her, she'd say, to fill the stew pot. Not that she'd sing praises of her cooking to anyone. She didn't burn water, and the results of her cooking filled bellies, but no more and no less.

The White Knight had arranged to meet Alistair before the gates of the Embassy proper, and that was where she had led Stardust. As much as the mare disliked carrying her current burden, it would only be worse once Izora mounted up in full plate. Luckily she was far more sturdy than she looked.

Hoofbeats sounded behind her, and she turned to look up at the too-solemn face of the Templar. Quietly, she ducked her head and swung up on Stardust's back. She tapped the horse's barrel with her heels, and moved out, trusting Alistair to fall in behind her.

——————————

When twilight touched the sky, Izora called a halt.

She had nothing much to say while she removed her belongings from Stardust's back, and then the mare's saddle and tack. The half-elf took just enough time to set up a tarp over her bedroll, having made a quick shelter from overhanging tree branches.

"I'm going to go get us some meat for the pot," she told Alistair, which made him look up in startlement, and then nod. At his acknowledgement, she plucked up sword, swordbreaker, and her bow and arrows, and strode from their makeshift camp.

Another Shiny Knight

Date: 2010-05-27 20:24 EST
It wasn't Izora's fault at all.

Alistair knew that, but it was difficult gathering to courage to say it. Between the silence that stretched out between them so long it made him twitch at the slightest jingle and her expression, he wasn't sure if he trusted himself to say anything. She was already upset and probably thought it was her fault and if he opened his big mouth again he was sure to put his foot in it. Then after his foot, probably a knee and after that. . . Well why stop there"

He was absolutely, positively miserable by the time they'd made camp. She set her bed roll up and her tarp. He dismounted and did the same, creating his make-shift shelter of tarp strung over rickety wood frame held by pins at a discreet and polite distance from hers.

He unpacked a few essential items, polish for the armor, and stone for the sword. He was in mid unbuckling of Chompers saddle when Izora said, "I'm going to go get us some meat for the pot," and Alistair almost yelped then jumped out of his skin. He hadn't expected her to say anything really.

He watched her go with the saddle in his hands for Maker knew how longer until Chompers ducked his head and drove it into Alistair's shoulder, demanding the Templar continue. And brush.

"I know, I knoooooooooooooooooooooow," he muttered tiredly at the horse. "I'm being a bloody coward." He told the horse and then moved to rest the saddle on a stump.

He was in his armor and would most likely sleep in it. It's not the most popular option with the ladies or those who could breathe through their nose, but it also meant that it'd be harder to shank him in the ribs in his sleep and it wouldn't take him an hour to get into it if something happened.

He dug around a saddle bag for a moment and began to brush Chompers. For a while, his attention split between several directions. He thought of Izora, namely how he wasn't being a very good friend at the moment and he should remedy that. He ran through several Templar disciplines and meditations out of habit"always a part of his mind"and he listened. To the small and careful fire Izora had painstakingly built while NOT LOOKING AT ALISTAIR, LA LA LA LA LA, alert for. . . well. . . anything. He didn't know these woods. Rhydin held things within it that he surmised would pale in comparison to Ferelden.

He didn't know how much time had passed when he finally let the brush sweep over Chompers velvety nose. The horse lipped the brush affectionately and then plunged his face into his feed bag.

"You're such a pig, you know that?" The Templar remarked. When he was done with Chompers, he moved over to Stardust. "Whatever my problem is," he told Izora's horse, who eyed him in a manner that was as unsure of him and his sanity as any look Izora could give him, "I'm being a selfish bastard"no, not the fatherless kind"aren't I"

"Here I am, wallowing in the past when Izora's future is right there in front of her. This is important to her, isn't it' Of course it is. Anyone can see how important it is to her. And she's got to lug me around with her all moping and?"

Stardust only snorted when the man leaned his brow on her strong neck. "It's just that. . . I can't help but feeling like I've let everyone down. And lost everything. Again. First Duncan, now?" He couldn't even make himself say her name. "—her. If that wasn't bad enough there's the whole 'king abandoning entire homeland' bit.

"I can imagine the paragraph next to my name in the history books, right beside an absolutely horrible picture of me. Probably a picture where they'll get my hair completely incorrect and pose me hunkered over the bodies of puppies and newborns I've been eating.

"And it'll say something like: 'King Alistair, unable to find his pants and ran, ran, ran so bravely far away leaving country to the tender mercies of a power hungry traitor's daughter. Come by the main hall for tea and pin-the-sword-in-his eye."

He exhaled sharply and pushed himself upright. "You ever wish you'd been born something else?"

Stardust rolled her eye toward Alistair. "Well, fine. I was just asking," affronted. The Templar finished brushing her down and spread warm blankets over both her and his horse. It may be summer, but Rhydin was clinging to the chill. He finished up all the little things that made camp run smooth. Unpacking and repacking things, checking the water skins, seals on a few pots of healing salve and then contented himself with having done all he could do to make the small shelter ready.

Alistair put everything away and clanked morosely back toward the tiny fire.

Izora de Chiegny

Date: 2010-06-15 12:37 EST
One good thing about Nature magick, as finicky and fickle as it was: Izora never had to worry about putting poisonous mushrooms in the pot. The small sack she had with her was nearly full, bursting with wrinkly little things and round white buttons of mushrooms, and even some wild carrots. It was just about right time for early berries, and she was keeping her eyes out for glimpses of bright red or purple. Stew was stew was stew, but ways to at least try to make it interesting was good. Or maybe flavoring breakfast grains.

Thinking about food also meant that she wasn't thinking about what the hell was going on with Alistair. She'd had brothers. This shouldn't be so confusing. Men shouldn't be. And yet he was.

She was not thinking about that.

A twitch in front of her had her crouching behind a bush, in attempt to hide. In armor. It was a rabbit, bunching itself up in defensive stance, even as it craned twitching nose out to take in another clover-top and devour it.

Izora swore it rolled an eye at her as she moved slowly, raising bow with arrow nocked to fire upon. She apologized to it silently, promising that she'd honor its sacrifice as best she could. And fired.

It had the presence of mind to start, but not quickly enough that it outran the arrow. She approached it, even as it was kicking out the last of its life. As she had to its hapless predecessors, she skinned and gutted it where it had fallen, leaving the offal and skin in a pile.

Four rabbits. Four should be enough for both her and Alistair in a stew pot with vegetables and everything else. It meant that she had best go back.

And yet, she didn't want to. A night of silence and awkward glances was usual enough back in Servryn. Izora had thought it would be different here.

And yet, it wasn't.

The Knight turned and strode back towards the tiny camp.

Another Shiny Knight

Date: 2010-07-20 12:25 EST
He was marginally good, really, at not sounding like three cast-iron stew pots being clanged together by angry dwarves when he moved about. Nobody knew how long it had taken him to master that, by the way, and let's don't talk about running in armor. There's no way you can not sound like a mini thunderstorm"

Anyhow, back at the camp, Alistair had finally settled himself down on the remains of a tree and possibly looked akin to a child just being told why his pet frog wasn't moving anymore, and why mommy and daddy had to go bury it in the garden.

With his back bent forward so he could put a steel clad elbow on his knee, he searched the fire as if it might have any answers for as long as the sounds of evening lasted. Crickets and birds, hoot-owls and other semi-familiar noises that did not alarm the Templar too much.

It wasn't broken so much by Izora's movements"because she didn't get to being a knight by tripping all over her own feet"but because of the prickle of fading magics on his skin. He took a deep breath and"

"Look," as soon as he could sort of see her. "I've....I'm not"I've not been entirely honest with yooooooooooooooouuu," drawn out reluctantly. "And I think"which is probably dangerous for me to do"but I like to do it on occasion, because danger is my middle name"I think that maybe I should..."

He shifted and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "If we're going to be stationed together, and we're friends"right?" When she was close enough to see her in the little fire light, he looked so terribly earnest and beseeching. "If we're friends and going to work together, I should probably tell you a little about who I am, yeeeeeeesss?"

Alistair straightened up from his slump, spotting the skinned and gutted rabbits.

"Oh I'shall I help you cook?"

No. Actually. No. She really, really probably did not want Alistair to cook. The last time he did, Zevran had taken to using Alistair's stew to coat his weapons, claiming it 'was better than any poison' the elf had come across.