Footsteps of the Lost

A Tushen Scout found herself in the office of Millia Surge, president of Valkurm.  However, the Tushen's face was not one of happiness at meeting with an old friend, instead it was set in a scowl, her arms crossed.

"You didn't have to come here if you didn't want to," Millia said with a sly grin on her face to her visitor.  "The war is over, we need not keep up pleasantries if we don't need them."  

A brief moment of silence lapsed between the two before the Tushen spoke up, "What did you do twenty years ago?"

Millia seemed taken aback and let out a small gasp at the question, "Are you trying to be a politician?  I didn't think you had that type of streak in you Freyla."  She leaned forward in her chair, and putting her elbows on the desk and clasping her hands, allowing her chin to rest on her hands.  "Freyla, I'm a war hero and leader.  We've discussed what happened twenty years ago.  Your comrade wondered off and died after falling off a cliff."

Freyla slammed her hand down on the desk, prompting the office door to fly open and guards to come in.  However, the guards' advance was shortened when Millia raised her left hand.  They looked at Millia then to Freyla and back to Millia before backing out with a mutual nod.

Millia got up from her seat, "You Tushen never did know how to act, always resorting to brash actions."  She walked over to a nearby window and gazed out, placing her hands behind her back, "I told you then, and I'll tell you again, I did nothing. She fell to her death."

"Then why out of a group of six is there just me and you left?  You know something!"

"There was a war between now and then, shouldn't you be grateful me and you made it through?"

Freyla clenched her fists and seethed, "You know full well they were all dead before the war started.  And then the attacks were especially brutal towards Valkurm.  Everyone of your plans were well shadowed..."

"And we still emerged victorious,"Millia interrupted as she turned back around.  "Look, you are obviously grasping at straws.  If you simply came here to raise dead ghosts, I'd advise you to leave before I have you arrested for disrupting the peace."

Freyla relented slightly, "We're ending another team to investigate what we couldn't in Xarcbard Forest.  No combat took place in that area, which is highly suspicious.  Something is out there, we just need to find it, so I'm here to offer if your people want to help.  We're setting sail from Yhoat in two weeks if you want to send a contingent.  Until then, goodbye."  Freyla turned and exited the office, slamming the door behind her.

The guards came in a short time later, "Are you alright Madame?"

"Perfectly," she sneered as she watched Freyla exit the building and walk down the street.  She closed her eyes, a memory flashing back through her mind and w ide grin spreading across her face.  "Perfectly fine."

((If a player wants to join in the search you can post a profile for them.  I will leave this open for a week to give people a chance to join.))

Of all the missions in the realm. . .

A large figure stood on the ship's side by itself, resting his armoured hands upon wooden railing which groaned loudly with every wave the ship passed.

Sent to escort a small research expedition, the oversized man had been traveling the seas for almost a week now, other passengers giving him curious glances, whispering behind his back.

The true subject of these whispers was irrelevant, for the man's subconscious had already 'told' him what it was; Himself.

A champion of the Venefecusian Sovereignty was a rare sight, even more so outside of the nation, so it was only natural to attract attention.

An annoyed sigh escaped his mouth.
For Veil's sake, can there be no peace and quiet on this dammed rot-barrel of a ship?
He thought to himself while standing up and moving away from the crowd once more.

Only a day remained for the ship to reach port and it seemed like it would be a long one indeed.
Even as a scout, usually detached from the team, he still enjoyed the presence of his fellow squad-mates.

The lighthearted conversations and assessing of each mission made the day pass much faster, a luxury which was taken for granted back then.

"Sir Hagen." -A rough sounding voice came from behind the champion, catching him off guard.
Turning to face the voice, Hagen saw a familiar man, his venerable age doing little to lessen the sharpness of his eyes as he lightly gestured a greeting to the champion.

"Commodore Graveth." -He responded back, mimicking the gesture as he spoke
"Is there anything you wish of me?"

"Well, I 'wish' you'd cheer up a bit if possible. I understand if you're a bit homesick so I've prepared a bottle of wine should you like."

"I appreciate your concern but I'll have to pass. a hangover isn't really what I need for tomorrow's meeting." The champion answered with as civil a tone as he could, confused as to why the ship-master would come all the way to him for such a simple matter.

"In that case I'd like to ask that you stop marching circles 'round the ship. The other passengers are getting worried that you're gonna snap and while I know better than that, the people who spread rumours don't."

An awkward silence took hold on the moment, as the two men stared at each other.

"I understand and apologize." Hagen finally replied, having overcome his initial confusion.
He'd been unaware of his own actions as pointless concerns and thoughts overtook his mind, letting his subconscious take over and mimic the patrol-march which usually accompanied said thoughts.

"I shall be in my cabin, should you need me." He finally added, marching back inside from the ship's deck, the Commodore's last words being the last thing he heard of the outside before closing the door.

"Don't forget the wine offer, that's still on me if you need it!"
The apologetic sincerity in his voice was enough to show that he hadn't meant to be insulting or even confrontational but his point was fair and little else could be done for it.

It would be quite the long day indeed. . .

Men were cheering and shouting with bottles of alcohol throwing pieces of pork, chicken and beef. Joking and laughing within the small wooden buildings. All sorte of bawdy language could be heard. Some mocking the Inhuman inhabitants,others talking about the local food and its tastyness. Varied werethe topics.

"Now Tyran there was that girl from the city. She glanced at me" the man gave a drunken giggle. "I tell you! These Vulkurmian girls are mad." the man drunk one more cup of alcohol. Tyran rolled his eyes, looking bored grabbing on a mug of mead.
"You ought to learn to stop dreaming about women....especially here. They're more likely to geld you then kiss you if anything."

"Eh??!!" the man did not understand in his drunk condition.

"forget it Rolgran." Tyran lowered his hand on his left palms. And he waited there admist thr chatter looking for the excitement of action. And missing the "good" old days of Car Nalange were such excess could not be experienced.

The feasting continued . But by then Tyran had walked out onto the camp,marching to the gate.

"So is the group back Grafron?" a ranger turned back

"well see for yourself." Grafron pointed off into the distance. As torches appeared

"Their not very hidden." Tyran whinced

"Well looks like all its another calm night."

"By the light i am heading off." Grafon raised an eyebrow

"Well up to you." Grafon croaked. Tyran marched out of the gate, he advanced towards the marching group

"Hail fellow Cyrian!"

"Hail friend!" the captain shouted back

"So how did you fare today comrades?"

"Boring. Nothing interesting today."

"Bah" Tyran advanced towards one of the rangers. An he grabbed on torch. "Next time you could try to not light up??"

The captain looked back. "well there is ni reason Tyran to be strict here..."

"If we were stricter we could have more results." Tyran grabbed the torch and turned it off. "come on. Back to camp. The commander is probably awaiting you all."

Freyla was at the planned meeting place just outside of Valkurm. The group had promised to be rather small, which was how she preferred it. Large groups tended to draw unwanted attention, and it didn't help the Hilde seemed bent on making anything not them have a torrid time getting anywhere. Her mind wondered to the events over the past twenty years, a groan escaped her lips as she thought about Millia and her evasion of the questions. She obviously knew more than what she let on and Qarn wouldn't simply wonder off.

Her mind was brought back down to reality as her ears perked up from the sound of approaching footsteps. The group was starting to gather and she stood up and addressed them in a semicircle.

"This group is the group heading to Xarcbard to figure out if any anomalies are to be found there. If you are not wanting to go, I give you one last chance to back out." She paused as she looked over the group to see if any would move. Once a few moments passed she continued on, "We will be treking West to Gustaburg and then North towards Xarcbard. Scouts have had little success penetrating and returning from the area, so we are to expect either something arcane or heavy resistance that few have ever returned. The reason we don't take a boat is that there is no real good approach to land on and rowing to shore leaves us open and little room to maneuver should something go wrong. Once we leave town, I expect us to work together and leave all of your biases here. They will only cause us grief if you bring them along with us. Everyone clear?"