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Taking It All In

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Thrax
Seasoned Veteran
Seasoned Veteran


Joined: 09 Apr 2005
Posts: 493
Location: Alderglen, Felucca

PostPosted: Thu Oct 04, 2007 2:47 pm Post subject: Taking It All In Reply with quote

The days that quickly passed Anthraxas spent studying the various books, tomes, scrolls and manuscripts within the hall where he first awoke; where he was reborn. He was searching for memories and catching up on the interim between his exodus and his return.

His personal memories---his identity and nature---were quite vivid. He had no doubt as to who he was, but names of people, places, and events that he should know, that he felt he did know, were hazy and unclear. Like a thick but wind-swept fog that conceals only portions of objects in a field, those memories could only be recognized partially, and therefore could not be relied upon. These things frustrated and angered him.

Ceinwyn, whom he knew and trusted, helped restore the missing pieces. Her knowledge in Britannian Lore was vast and comprehensive, and she shared it freely with him. She spoke to him as an equal, a peer, and that pleased him even though he felt himself inferior to her in knowledge. As she spoke, he grew to trust her more thoroughly, finding her intelligent and attractive---another memory that awoke within him.

She told him of current events, of the power struggles in the realms; of foreign kings, lords and ladies, who claimed virtue as their guide but showed themselves to be as selfish, proud, grasping and malign as any orc. The names were familiar to him, but there were new ones to be added, and although his past memories were clouded, he had no difficulty in remembering these new facts.

Upon hearing from her of a meeting, a debate among candidates vying for some position of power that they wished to create for themselves, he decided to go also. He was sure he could gauge the temperament of the personalities she had described to him, and the ancient rule of "Know thy enemy" was another sound basis for attending. She would be going also, as one of the chosen candidates, and that would inevitably make it enjoyable for him. That much was certain.

It was indeed a sight to behold---a small circle of nobles and dignitaries assembled at Castle British---whose attention was kept, at least initially, by a man named Drayden, clearly a drow. "Would you please step back sir?" he had requested him. Anthraxas merely looked impassively at the man and replied, "No." Thereupon the man rolled his eyes and moved away. No human nor elf would order him about, kindly or no! But it was worse. He felt cold, calculating, murder in his heart and it was all he could do not to draw his kryss and strike him down. The impulse was almost overpowering, nearly reflexive. The surge of adrenalin felt good as his bloodlust rose, but he knew it was not the time nor place. He was not afraid of dying; that did not stay his hand. He realized he had to control the urges lest they gain the best of him, and he must decide who is worthy of death and when it is time to deal it. And he wished to please Ceinwyn, not to make needless trouble for her.

As the meeting progressed it was clear that there were many conflicting ideas and ideologies involved and presented. And though some claimed it was the "will of the people" it was clear that the "people" were not behind it at all. Only fools would swallow such tripe. The debates had been publicly announced, but he saw only a handful of commoners, the rest being nobles. He smiled to himself at the old, worn out, ruse: pay off a few malcontents and start a revolution. It was a sad song that he had sung many times himself, but it worked sometimes, as it did for him in Papua, but not so in Yew.

The affair was disrupted by an assassination attempt. A masked man tossed fire bombs and explosive potions apparently trying to kill Duchess Molly. She escaped without any major injuries while the assassin was laid low. Then all went on as before... much to his amazement.

Upon leaving the meeting with Ceinwyn and Ardashir they crossed paths with the Duchess at the gates of Castle British. He greeted her. She recognized him and that pleased him, but she concerned herself primarily with Ceinwyn. They exchanged words and, for a moment, he felt the impulse to kill her when she brushed aside Ceinwyn's hand, but again, he resisted it.

They departed and met together at the Umbra tavern. She introduced him to others gathered there and then he decided to pay a visit to his old friend, Magnate Isk, hoping to return the favor he remembered owing him.
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