Sebastien
A Mission in Sin'dorei Lands
So be it,Kagg thought to himself. If I am to die today, it will be with courage. He took a deep breath, facing down the razor-sharp beak and the beady red eyes of the gigantic bird of prey in front of him. He stepped forward, keeping his expression steady, determined not to let any fear show on his face.
“That one is Camilla.” Lord-Convocate Sebastien Artemidorus Kerwin ran a hand lovingly along the other monstrosity that he stood next to. “This one is Bucephalus. They’re old friends of mine.”
Kagg nodded. He looked up at the hawkstrider in front of him; Camilla squawked softly, turning her head slightly to fix the young orc with a haughty glare. “Camilla. You will be bearing me on our mission. We must work together, or we both shall fall,” the boy said.
The Second Watch
Tiradell sat on the muddied ground, beautiful grass and flowers destroyed by the endless undead that had streamed past, killed as much as they could, then left. He cradled a young elf's head in his lap, the priest recognizing the features of the young orphan. He remembered the happy smile as the boy left the orphanage, the relief he'd felt that the young rascal would finally trouble him no more. Then the surprise as the boy embraced him heartily, thanking him.
“Please, please,” he whispered, feeling the spark of life still within the young elf’s body, fighting a losing battle against the sickness that Tiradell knew would be much worse than death. He whispered to the youth, and to the Light, the power that he felt always.
Filing Things Away
Reports, requests, documents, records, paperwork and a mountain of it, Tiradell thought to himself, scowling at the files on his desk. He sighed, sitting down in the creaky old chair. It groaned ominously under the weight of his thin frame covered with heavy armor.
“Oh, light, not this too!” He grunted in frustration, rubbing both his temples with his fingertips. He stopped suddenly, a brief smile crossing his face. His mind wandered back to earlier in the day in the Sunfury Spire, Lord-Convocate Kerwin’s hand stretched out toward Iloam Blacksong, the sizzling spark flying out and lancing into his chest, a complex rune swiftly traced out in bright glowing lines as he stumbled back, grunting.
My Pride and Joy.....what happened?
Far to the North of Quel'thalas, within the borean reaches of Icecrown, stood Frostmana Citadel. Within this monolithic obelisk, the Duke paced back and forth in thought. Dressed in an opulent lavender robe with golden-wheat trim, he twirled his moustache. The robe was of furs from five different animals with rugged protection from the harsh winds. Emeralds of large carats lined the robe with obsidian clasps and a sash to hold it all in place.
Upon the marble and saronite floor, his leather boots squeaked and echoed through the floor. Attendants went by here and there, as if banshees. Their voices hardly audible, their glimmering robes shining from the light of radiating crystal chandeliers high above. He snapped his finger but once, a man in silver platemail striding towards him. He wore the colors of the Frostmana lineage as a tabard upon his armor, his steps loud and telling of his purpose.
Mail Call!
Somewhere in Northern Icecrown....
She stood amongst the harsh winds in the mountains staring at the seas churn up the misty foam. Seagulls were few here amongst the craggy outcropping. She blew a forlorn horn amongst the howl of the sea's maelstrom, a fierce gargoyle construct seen amongst the outline of the high moon. Its wings flapping gracefully gusting up more snow drifts upon the land she stood with defiance. Its body sanguine as a frostwyrm, wings arched high in the sky as it dipped its head low to the Duchess.
"Good. Return this to Acherus to be fowarded to my attendant with all haste."
Handing it a satchel sealed with her personal crest of the Ebon Blade, several letters inside sealed to individuals.
Dissillusionment; or, How Heroes Fall
((It's crazy, since I've returned there's been more RP than I saw before I left! Anyways, I know many who were present are curious, and the conversation was pretty great, so yay RP drama - pretty much quoted directly from chat with a few more details added for style...))
Once Aelberyn Bloodsword, Baroness and Priestess of the Holy Light, got over the initial shock of being so publically and thoroughly kissed by Convocate Sebastien Kerwin, she almost allowed herself the pleasure of simply enjoying his firm lips languidly molding hers and the sensual, confident way he held her so securely. Almost.
New Developments
OFFICER’S REPORT (FILE COPY)
Case #: 481516
Reporting: Sir Sidoran Sunlash, Chief Security Officer of the Legion
(p.1) Regarding the Sexual Assault and Aggravated Harassment of Rhosyn (hereafter referred to as “the Victim”),
I interviewed the Victim early on the morning of 26/4. The statement she gave, paraphrased here due to technical difficulties with the recording equipment, was initially very similar to the statement given to Convocate Sebastien Kerwin (File Missing) and coincides with the report from Doctor Jakobus Nachtengaal ([url=http://www.rp-haven.com/blog/jakobus/report_regarding_rhosyn_delivered_lady_aramalia_solisbane]File Attached[/url]). New developments are detailed from Paragraph 3 onward, with notes included for the benefit of fellow investigators.
Mistakes
(( semi-useful recap of yesterday's events, from Rhosy's perspective and knowledge. Brief! Very brief! Since I couldn't find the logs from all these conversations. Intended as a personal reference more than anything, since my attempts at narrating are woefully inadequate. -.- ))
She keeps offering me tea.
I keep telling her it’s poisoned.
Jim’s trying so hard to keep me calm, in between moments where his head is buried in a bucket, emptying the contents of his stomach. I think he knows it’s not working, and I think he knows that he can’t help in his state. I think he knows, but Light bless him, he keeps trying.
[Art] The Convocation Goes to the Dogs
See below the cut!
Idiot.
You're an idiot.
You must have some idea of what you've just done. You may be some country peasant, but even a few days here should make you realize that the words "Lady Convocate" mean something. I could have you stabbed in the middle of the street. I could have you locked up for crimes you can't even fathom and no one would have the desire or the means to oppose me. I could have set you up with the nicest house in the countryside, and funded your little tea-making adventures for the rest of your life. Damn, you are an idiot.
This is pathetic! I don't even have any reason to like you. You're thick, you're simple, and your sense of humor is decidedly lacking. There are a hundred people in the city that would kill for a night with me, from nobles to thugs.
Alright, maybe not a hundred, but a few, certainly.
[Salvius] Salvius Gratis - the Dawning of the Phoenix
Good morning Silvermoon, the Dawn is at hand.
Convocational Meeting - Darvahn Darksun perspective
((Before I begin this segment, I would first like to thank those that participated and thank those who organized it as I myself participated as well. Emotions ran high, tension was thick, and over all I had a blast. And credit is given where due, as each individual that was involved added greatly to the event. And just a warning, this is a bit of a read.))
Letter to the Convocate of Regulation regarding Lady Shryndael Dawningsun
To: Office of the Convocate of Regulation, Giuseppe Quattrochi
Regarding: Charges against Lady Shryn'Dael Dawningsun
Convocate Quattrochi,
Over the past months, Lady Dawningsun has seen fit to often seek me out in public and treat me with a degree of disrespect unbefitting her, or my, station. She often sees fit to slap me with various objects, such as bouquets, or kick me in various locations such as the shins. For a long time, I chose not to act on these actions, simply because this was the sort of thing she did before I took seat as a Convocate-General, and because I, quite frankly, did not see the harm in it. Aside from the occasional bruise, which pales in comparison to the type sustained in combat, I saw no problem with this.
[Salvius] Silvermoon Gazette: New Teleportation Regulations enacted
By Risael Salvius
[Satchiel] Visiting Hours, Part Two
Satchiel laid back in his cell, eyes closed drowsily, one foot propped on a bent knee as he relaxed on the hard floor. If I were lucky, he thought to himself, this'd be about the time that the sexy warden wanders down, eager to see the famous Kerwin and teach him a lesson. He smirked. With Wind. Maybe even that cute Sergeant Sunbow.
"You've certainly gotten yourself in trouble now, lad." came a booming, authoritative voice.
Satchiel winced, his ears drooping. Thank you, o Light, not exactly what I was asking for, he thought.
Sitting up, Satchiel's gaze met that of an older blood elf, dressed in a richly accoutremented blue silken suit. His long white hair streamed down over his shoulders, and he looked over Satchiel with a stern yet sad expression.
"Hi, Dad."
[Sebastien] Visiting Hours, Part One
The old sin'dorei strode proudly down the hallway, his boots clicking along the floor as he walked. His expression stern and authoratative, the blue silken outfit he wore contrasting sharply amidst the dim red lighting leading to the cell block. Two spellbreaker guards stood in his path, crossing their blades before him as he halted his advance.
"Sir, no one's to see the prisoner unless it's on official business. You're going to have to leave."
"Nonsense, lad!" Sebastien beamed, smiling in a grandfatherly fashion. "It's normal visiting hours, and besides that I'm the lad's family. Surely there's no trouble."
The Spellbreaker held firm. "No, sir. No exceptions, we're not chancing this with someone who's already accused of breaking someone out of prison."
