Noirmont. The site of what would soon become the Barony's direct gateway to cross-realms trade was not a secret per se, but neither the Barony nor House DeMuer nor any affiliated groups had made any concerted effort to advertise it; so everyone who had come here so far, had heard of the project by word of mouth. While most were not House members, and less than half came from the Barony, all had some connection to the affairs of House DeMuer, the only possible means of hearing about this site.

The gnome brothers Cal (Calvrabbil) and Hal (Halvrabbil) Friedsladd had served as lawyers for House DeMuer and DeMuer Exports especially, providing their expertise on the shipping laws and loopholes of various realms and helping to draw up the most ironclad contracts imaginable. When their cousin Cirfriastred Jollastable mentioned that he would soon no longer be an apprentice mechanic, but needed a place other than RhyDin so he would not have to compete with his mentor, they directed him to Noirmont. For the last six weeks he had run a small but successful shop that specialized in the repair of about anything involving gears, especially clocks and other smaller devices, and allowed him a good environment in which to work on his inventions. His wife and their six children, too, assisted in the running of the shop however they could.

A trio of Dwarven women, all from the proud and reputedly very alcoholic Clan Drennaxe, opened a very successful smithy, recommended by an old family friend who had done contract work in the silver mines to the south, in Esp?rance. Aurkindar, half-elf and human carpenters came in to do the contract work necessary to accomodate the rapidly growing alpine village, and a reclusive, antisocial old drowess had even set up a magick shop at the foot of the great dark mountain.

Shepherds and farmers and their families made up most of the residents native to the Barony itself, but even they could feel the growing excitement, and moved closer into the village, hoping maybe to ply a more specialized and profitable trade once the gate opened. Young Mister Greyshott, they said, was gonna open the gate before he left on his little trip, and he'd said the gate'd go to three very busy realms as soon as it was set up! DeMuer Exports had contacted businesses in the other realms, who were endeavoring with their own mages to make the connection a reality.

The gate was carved into the foot of the mountain that made it possible, a doorway that right now led to nowhere, with the strange Norras runes carved into the 'frame;' though it was not functional, there was already a dim blue glow, the first tenuous connection to the other realms. The cabin for Silas and his small team of research assistants and craftsmen was not far down the slope from it, and from the right perspective, in the right light, one could make out a worn old trail leading away from the little black garden, winding its way around the eastern flank of the mountain... and up.

Alain DeMuer passed by the barracks for the small garrison (there in case anything unpleasant came through the gate) on the back of a tired grey horse, and the hooves plodded slow and steady in the quiet night towards the old path up the mountain. It was about a year ago he'd seen fit to learn how to ride, and he'd always figured it would come in handy, sooner or later, and he was right: nothing more than a horse or a man on foot could make it as far up the mountain as he wanted to go. Up they went, at an angle at least as slow as his pace, until just out of sight of the village he came to a little level area - grasses, a few stunted trees, and that ubiquitous black rock. He dismounted and left the animal to graze as it would, taking with him an old brown military surplus backpack containing, penned painstakingly from image orbs and carefully enchanted where the literature seemed to recommend it, House DeMuer's copy of the Angelic Arcana.

It had occurred to Alain when he realized he would have the Arcana in his hands for a little while after taking them from DCH that they would be a vital card to be played against the Bloods if they saw fit to betray him (those were paranoid days), and even now they could still prove very useful, as they were about to; so he'd had it dropped off temporarily at Cassie's bookstore for 'safekeeping.' There it was extensively photographed by image orbs and then passed off to several other people, making its way to the courageous young Roland, and then to House Onyx. There was a little twinge of guilt every time he recalled that wily and deceptive move, but they were the sort of wiles necessary for a successful House leader in RhyDin City.

Putting all of it from images into a book was a painstaking process Alain took upon himself to keep as few in the know as possible, and what was even more exhausting was the research involved in making sure the copy would actually work. From what he could tell, it was a somewhat bastardized version of the Arcana, but if D.C.H. had somehow gotten it to work, then so should Alain, Lix and Raziya.

Into the woods Alain plunged again on his way uphill, but they thinned soon enough, and ended outright in a rocky clearing that marked the end of the trail. He would go no further. This would be the spot. Silas Greyshott had assured him this spot would not only provide excellent cover, but was ripe with energy to make a successful spell all the more probable. Speaking of which...

Winds began to whip up, and dark clouds began to roll in, rumbling in the distance. Alain smiled grimly up at them. Right on schedule.

Yes, the winds were swirling and dancing and moving in nearly petulant, angsty fits. Fannings of rough blasts alternated with long, smooth flows, as if it ...or she...could not decide where or how to blow. Which would fairly well describe the state that the Fallen was in these days. It had been a rough couple of months...or however long it had been since she had arrived here and had her first talks with Kaelain, as she had taken to calling him. At least in her own mind. She had not quite yet dared to call him that to his face. Oh, sure, Kael did not have his full power. Not yet. But he was a wily bastard and if she got his dander up there was no telling what he might work in the way of vengence. Later. When she was not expecting it.

A long couple months or so, indeed. She had spent the intervening time in deep thought and much reliving of things she would far rather have never remembered at all. She felt like a great open wound that would not heal. She did not like it. She would like to blame Kaelain. She knew she should not. But that knowledge did not help in the darker moments. His ears should burn at times, with the rants she'd been blasting at him, to herself, at least, as she swirled around Rhydin. Trying to learn. To deal. With the changes he had inspired in her. With the dream of "Something More, Something Good" that he had poisoned her mind and spirit with. She had come to realize that part of her struggle was in great part because she KNEW she did not deserve anything good. Not really. No, she deserved the fate that had been dealt out to her by the Maker, even as much as she wanted to deny it, wanted it to not be true, not be "fair". And now....now.....Something More, Something Good...was on the table. She was almost afraid to reach for it. To take it.

She spilled herself into existence before Kaelain, appearing not three feet from him. The nephilim was there, but she was ignored for the moment. She was not carefully and elegantly coiffured and dressed, as she normally was. No, she was a wild, unsettled, untamed Lix, this day. Hair long, blonde, and unbound, whipping in the winds of her own arrival, her own uncertain temper. Blue eyes intense and piercing upon those eyes of man and Fallen mixed. She was in a long, loose dress that fluttered and whipped in the winds, snapping and snaking around her legs and body, blue raw silk, molding to the shape of her form like a second skin, outlining the full breasts, slim waist and gently flaring hips. A pure hourglass figure. She was unaware of it at the moment. She raised an elegant, pretty, long nailed hand and pointed her index finger at him. Voice a siblilant hiss, "See that you do not betray us in this". What might happen if he did was not stated, but it was laying over the clearing like a threat of huge weight and dire implication. Yes, she was too perturbed to be wise, to be diplomatic, to be reasonable.

Then, and only then, did she turn disturbed, flashing sapphire eyes upon Raziya. She gave her a nod, tiny in inclination, but huge for Lix in what it signified. The wind only seemed to be increasing, and it was not all due to her temper and fear. Raindrops began to spatter down upon her, leaving spreading dark little stains upon the silk she wore. Strands of light blonde hair snaked across her face as she gazed upon the Nephilim. There might...may...have been a twitch of lips that would qualify as the slightest of smiles. Then she took a step back to make the distance between all three of them equal. She took a deep breath, forced a calm upon wildly ranging emotions, by sheer dint of will, and looked back to Kaelain. She was as ready as she was going to be.