(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.
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.