open audience; the alderwood emperor

[alderwood]

Characters: The Alderwood Emperor and anyone who seek to speak with him
Date: January 8th
Location: The Palace of Landed Sky
Situation: The expected holding of an audience for any that care to speak with the newly appointed Alderwood Emperor.
Warnings/Rating: N/A; to be updated if necessary

The hall is stark and black, lit with softly glowing lanterns that are strung up high beyond reach. Outside, the sun is at its zenith, and it filters down through the cloudy glass roof to warm the dark room.

The floor is marble, inlaid with mother-of-pearl and ruby quartz. It catches the light, and casts strange patterns on the walls.

There is beauty to it, but the room has been repurposed to function moreso than form. Weapons racks line the walls and there are officers stationed at regular intervals to ensure the safety of their assets and, of course, the Emperor himself. It is but one sign of heightened security, another being that all attendees must be escorted in with the attendance of a pair of armed guards. The rein of Alderwood begins in caution and will not be made victim of as Ironwood's did in its end.

The Emperor himself is seated at a broad table and working his way through cleaning a variety of firearms that range from elegant handguns to heavy muskets. He works with swift precision, dismantling each in turn before proceeding with cleaning and reassembling, then he moves to the next. Like the weapons upon the racks, these vary in age from rudimentary to advanced technology reminiscent of the spectre weapons. He knows each of them as spoils of war gathered over the centuries and now he seeks to repurpose them. To use them against the enemy that had him fight in the first place.

He is dressed in his familiar military cut, having no mind or pleasure in anything of ornamentation or to further denote his rank, and greets each attendee with the curt statement: "Speak to your purpose."

[Actionspam or prose are both acceptable!

Characters will only be admitted into the hall one by one, so there won't be anyone present for anyone else's conversations, and there won't be any 'mingling' in the chamber itself.

By popular demand, we will continue to allow mingling for those waiting for an audience in an antechamber. There is a thread header below to allow for that!]

Audience | Canon Updates | Antechamber

Comments

[bindsthedead]

Achavielle. [Sabriel pauses, committing the name and title to memory.] I will ask them, and report back to you what I find.

Sir, what was Bysaliat, and how did it fall? ['Shred him as he shredded Bysaliat' was what the journal had said.]

And also- If you require anything to be magically warded or bound, I will do it.

[alderwood]

Bysaliat was a Foreigner.

[Evandau recalls him. Large. Massive, in body and mind; none had expected him to fall, but he did.]

Dead, at the hands of Malicant. [He grips the charm more tightly in his hand.] It took one of our own and used her to rip his mind to shreds. The body came second, but we knew then that he was lost.

[bindsthedead]

One of your people had the ability to affect the mind? [Sabriel's mind is whirling. She had assumed it was Bysaliat was a location, or possibly one of the turtles. But a Foreigner... Sabriel had assumed the person who'd written the journal was a kedan, or one of Eshai's people. Now it seemed it might have been another Foreigner.

She keeps her expression steady.]

What happened to Bysaliat's body?

[alderwood]

Magic makes anything possible. [That is his understanding. His experience.] Lesser magicians existed once, though none have survived. We used them to verify that the Foreigner's thoughts were their own, however. [A break. A silence. He knows that Malicant covered its tracks, but that instance is one where they failed to notice until it was too late. Like with Eshai.] It sought out the weaknesses and exploited them until it took control.

[Evandau looks to the table, to the work he has yet to do so that he may be ready.]

As to the body, there was little enough left. The ground was burned and what remained became cremated.

[bindsthedead]

Almost anything, in my experience. [Anything except restoring the dead to true life. Sabriel pauses, thinking of Belgaer. The bell can restore minds and memories, or shatter them. What would happen if something took control of her- or simply took the bell?]

I see. Then we will need to watch our own thoughts carefully. [Sabriel turns to leave, to try to make sense of what she's learned- and to visit the cemetary. But another question occurs to her, even though it's almost trivial.

Sir, your titles... Ironwood, Alderwood, Ashwood, Hazelwood, what do they mean? They don't seem to indicate rank- are they like surnames?

[alderwood]

Guard them from without and within. That is the only hope to keep it at bay.

[Evandau raises his hand to her, an old salute offered to a soldier from their officer at dismissal from a briefing. Her query, however, bids him pause.]

They are honorifics that represent our strengths.

[And rare are they in the giving.]

[bindsthedead]

I will. [Sabriel nods respectfully in acknowledgement before asking one last question.]

Then what does Alderwood represent?

[alderwood]

Strength and battle.

[It is a simple, straightforward answer.]

Alderwood is the soldier that represents all soldiers. It is the shield and foundation of the military, as well as the sword of the campaigns. [And, once, the sword to protect the Emperor.]

[bindsthedead]

I see. And what did Ashwood and Ironwood mean?

['Strength and battle.' It makes sense, particularly given Evandau's previous position as commander.]

[alderwood]

Ashwood represents mastery of power, though the last bearer did not have the same strength as the first that carried it.

[Evandau pauses, always slow to reply to any question that refers to Eshai.]

Ironwood is the ladder between the realms. [That, in his mind, should provide answer enough.]

[bindsthedead]

Thank you. I should go. I will fulfill your request as soon as I am able.

[Sabriel gives him a small bow, then leaves.]