Dubhaine Family/Etain/Roleplays/2021/May
| Dubhaine Family | |
| Fame | 40 |
| Wealth | 19485 |
| Home Region | Ashforth |
| Home World | East Continent |
14th May
Summer Evening - Clermont
Etain
A solitary figure picked its way through the aftermath of battle, a faint shadow in the still dark of a Summer's night. The carnage was nothing unusual to a child of the Great War though she had little taste for the butchery of men. That great Lords and Ladies could find no better way to resolve their disputes had long puzzled Etain but it was not her place to criticise that of which she was ignorant.
Months had passed since she set out for the Southlands to hunt at the Archmage's request and she'd paid little heed to news from home. That Perleone and Perdan were at war was of little concern in the taverns of Semall, nor did the escalation in the East account for more than a passing comment. What opinions there were mostly focused on local affairs and local rarely counted further north than Dayr and Zawr.
To be honest Etain liked it that way. She'd risked her life too many times on the Shadow King's business during the Great War and it was a relief to have little more to care for than slaying unclean things and salvaging rare curios for the museums of Karbala and the Grey University.
The message from her grandmother had therefore come unbidden, the clear pitched song of a thrush as she supped on coney stew in the small dell where she planned to pass the night.
"Etain Dearest! Etain Dearest!" the trilling aroused memories of the Ghost Watch when the Grand Dame of Evora would commune with her agents via the birds of the air and the beasts of the field. They were simple tricks known to any initiate of the outer mysteries but surprisingly effective.
"Etain Dearest! Etain Dearest!" the refrain echoed all around her but her mortal eyes had little success finding the source as they scanned underbrush and deep shadow alike. Tiring of the game she drew her senses inwards and cast herself into the Flow, swiftly ascending on the moonspun roads.
"Etain Dearest!" she could now clearly hear her grandmother's stentorian tones, tinged with the merest hint of humour, and the Balance Walker came into sight, clothed in a body of pale summer moonlight.
"What is it m'lady," she did her best to sound annoyed but it was difficult to maintain ill humour in Brigdha's presence.
"Etain Dearest, you will no doubt have seen the request from Archmage Kenneth for assistance in saving the life of Lord Jacelyn. You are somewhere near Claremont so hurry there with all despatch and assist as best you can."
"Aren't we currently at war with Perdan," the golden form she now wore pulsed with storm clouds as if to emphasise her point.
"Yes, yes dear..." the Shadow King's Ambassador seemed to dance before her, "but that's a matter of land not a blood. His Majesty would be most displeased to hear of a gallant knight losing their life over such a trifle."
"Are you sure about that?" Etain had been in the Shadow Kings presence on a number of occasions, usually as part of Brigdha's security detail, and she'd always found him a distant and imposing figure.
"Yes I am young lady. Now take this parchment and hurry along," it was an Ambassadorial Passport.
"Stop! Who goes there?" she was almost upon the piquet before the two startled guardsmen spotted her.
"A servant from the Court of the Shadow King here at the invitation of Ambassador Kenneth," Etain raised her hands, the sealed passport in one and a white kerchief in the other, "I bear credentials."
One of the guardsman searched her for weapons whilst the other took the passport and made to break the seal before thinking better of it, "This is most unusual miss."
"Yes it is," she resisted the urge to control him, "but your commander will confirm my credentials are in order."
Sometime later she'd passed her way from officer to officer up the chain of command, explaining her mission to each, until eventually she was speaking with Lord Jacelyn's captain.
"So you're telling me the Shadow King has sent you to heal Lord Jacelyn?"
"That's right."
"And why would he do that?"
"I'm not privy to His Majesty's confidence," Etain was tiring of these obstacles, "but it doesn't seem your camp physicians hold out much hope of a successful recovery."
The captain studied her intently for a minute or more, "Save my Lord's life."
"I will do my best," she entered the pavilion and steeled herself. To recall a man from the brink of death was no small thing.
15th May
Summer Evening - Clermont
Etain
Etain sat by Lord Jacelyn's bedside, salt tears snaking their way down her cheeks to the wrinkled corners of her mouth, gripping his cold, dead hand with all her might. The broken flesh before her bore little resemblance to the vigorous nobleman who but a few days earlier had lead his soldiers to battle with all the pomp and circumstance of a Battlelord of Perdan. The pride of life seemed all the more hollow for the failure of her leechcraft.
"Lord Jacelyn has passed," she watched his shade departing, rising slowly into the Firmament from whence long ago it had descended. The ranger knew not the rites and customs Lord Jacelyn had practiced, nor even the strange gods in whom he believed. Still, as the one with him as he passed it was her duty to see his soul safely to the Higher Realms. In her heart she repeated the prayer for the dead, calling on He whom the Balance serves to judge this brave warrior with mercy.
