Poe 's page

Blinking in surprise, the young magus held up a finger, uncertain as to how one could even respond to such a statement, before ultimately confessing, "Yeees... Your Highness does raise an excellent point. I should best focus on martial and magical studies ahead of marital ones. Thank you for bringing such priorities into crystal focus, truly."

Somehow looking even paler than normal, the young elf lord bowed and took a long step back lest her put himself further in harm's way.

Poe frowned at the proceedings, and it was painfully evident that there was something on his mind that he simply could not keep to himself. "If I may, your Highness?"

When Alis crooked a golden eyebrow at him, he approached and whispered to her.

Poe sniffed, not quite certain why someone of station would even bother asking what something cost. "Auuuntiiie, Dafar is on the gold standard, is it not?"

"Mmm, yeees," Poe mused, "it would lend credence to your assertion of allegiance to the celestial realms no doubt."

As the carriage drew to a standstill, the faces of many elves garbed in arcane regalia could be seen outside, awaiting royal visitation. At the forefront, were the now familiar faces of Lady Elendreth, Lord Poe, and the catgirl Shea.

When Alis, Lureene, Sindariel, and Tiniel had stepped down into the grassy lane, Poe's nasal voice was the first to be heard, "Your Highness, Ladies Lammontari, Ourson... it is our sole delight on this dark and tragic day to receive you."

"Ah, indeed indeed..." Holding his hand upright, the young elf gave a reserved wave to the rest of the room, merely pivoting slightly at the wrist without moving his forearm. "Good day, one and all, good day."

Finally, with a low bow to Princess Alis, the ego-centric young magus finally departed, heading back towards the atrium to await his aunt Elendreth.

Rising to his feet, Poe bowed deeply and kissed the Princess' outstretched hand. "But of coouurse, your Highness. Perhaps Dame Amhranai may yet soon be joined in knighthood by a magus."

Hesitating for a moment as the sound of Sasha stumbling and knocking over the carafe with a mild curse reached him, he asked in a low whisper, "I saaay, is it wise to keep that woman as a ward of your house, Highness, given her familial ties to those Wasp scoundrels? I should hate to learn she took revenge against you when I might have done something to avert it."

Even as Sasha grimaced, and eyes pleading in disbelief, Poe held up a finger.

Hearing the Princess sigh, he met her gaze and asked, "Please forgive me, your Highness, I must be further into my cups than I realized. It sounded like Lady Ourson named the assassin Shivone's late sister."

"Chivane?"

There was an audible gasp from the young lord and he recoiled as if from a blow, "Good heavens, woman, that is a travesty! What foul necromancer perpetrated this act against the poor lady?"

Poe gave Sasha a curious glance, curiosity making him indifferent to the sweat beading on the major's face as he clenched his jaw against the ongoing distress to his scalp. "Used to be? She wasn't turned into a newt, was she?"

"Highness?"

"I think I should like to know what the duties of a Lightbringer might entail, yet it all sounds very secretive and I raaather prefer not to get snuffed. Hmm, hmm?"

"You both are quite fortunate to have received such good training from others. I myself...my...my training has been haphazard at best."

When there was not a single chuckle at his pun, Poe shrugged and gazed off into the distance, commenting whimsically, "Yeees, quite fortunate... quite."

Sighing, he at length turned to the Princess and inquired, "And what of yourself, your Highness? I imagine the members of our royal family to be exceptionally fortunate in that regard."

While Poe seemed mildly surprised by the interruption from the quiet scribe, the same could have been said for most of those present. Even though the tall, thin scribe had followed Alis like a shadow since arriving, even those closest to the Princess had scarcely heard him say a word prior. Nodding thoughtfully at the older elf's words, the young lord raised his tea cup in acknowledgement.

"Spoken like a scholar," he said. "Indeed as I had discussed with Lady Ourson, I believe Dafar to be in great need of civilizing if its condition is to be improved..."

As the youth's voice trailed off, he looked once more to Darvesch, curious to see if the warrior had finished mulling over his answer.

At mention of himself, Poe straightened and set aside his empty dessert dish. Raising a cup of tea in acknowledgement, pinky finger extended, but curled in, he said, "Raaather good of you to aaask, sir dwarf. You see, I hail from Quelaerilean nobless, my father being an Earl of no small means. As such, the finest practitioners of spellcraft and swordplay were hired as my private tutors. A grueling regimen, integrating the two arts, I assure you, but a decidedly elvish one just the same."

"Fortunately for them, I proved quite the apt pupil, yet..." he paused teacup held a short distance from his chin, a faraway look in his orange eyes. "Yet I wonder if my successes came perhaps too readily. I must confess a certain confusion as to why else Mumma sent me away to this far place with only the warning that I not reveal my aptitude to father."

"Hmm..." With a shrug, the young lord sipped upon his tea, flavored with sweet, black currants before asking, "And praytell, how do dwarven knights come by their puissant skill at arms?"

"My dear lady," Poe said, "ten thousand people witnessed Governor Taurion's demise at the hands of four Dafari half-bruuu...humans! That O'beilumanji ruffian was still seeking to recruit members to be party his shenanigans some two weeks aaafter the fact."

As all eyes turned to him, the young lord held his chin between thumb and forefinger as he thought. "Why now that you mention it..."

The youth turned about until with a snap of his finger, he gestured to a large desk with a map representing Dafar's topographical and political features. Tracing his finger south from Port Eldarion, he tapped his finger on the foothills below the small town of Harthól. "The good Monseigneur did mention that 'Sister' Shivone had recently departed for the south to look after some of her family's private holdings — a vineyard I believe."

Looking up, he added, "Mind, that was more than two weeks ago."

"I–" Poe gave a summary nod, somewhat crestfallen that the blonde beauty had reached the same deduction as himself. Half-heartedly he added, "I was also about to mention the warding-medallion the sneak-thief had obtained, but it proved irrelevant as things were as you have said. The relic could not have affected her because it had already been absconded with... your Highness."

Even as Sasha gasped and put a hand on Isaac's shoulder, Poe gave the man a consolatory shrug and said, "Well it turns out that our woman Shivone, had put Aemalie up to the task. We discovered this by the would-be thief's footsteps back to Gods Save the Keg where the wait staff recalled her having met with a contact matching Shivone's description. Now naturally, being tall and fit with blue eyes and black hair is not at all uncommon among we elves. Why even Auntie might match that description as Ms. Nevah so astutely pointed out before your arrival."

"However," he thrust his finger upward as he said the word, "Ms. Echorn is not so well acquainted with elves as you or I, your Highness. She immediately recalled seeing such a woman in the halls of her temple, and when the Monseigneur led us to her chambers, the ward cast upon the door filled our sight with visions matching the scene everyone has been talking about since our return — a grim angel of death with black wings and a fearsome scythe threatening doom upon us!"

"That's right," he snapped his fingers for effect, "our actions brought us to the attention of the self-same Lucretia you yourselves defeated just a few days ago!"

"As for the girl," he waved a hand while stroking his chin, "Aemelie was intended to be a 'patsy' if you will. She was meant to take the fall for Shivone's theft, and we were meant to locate her body. It was only thru the young woman's ingenuity and remarkable luck that she was not set upon by the magically-enhanced vermin who had been given admittance to the temple's catacombs by way of a breach from the sewers. You see–"

"Oh..." Poe gave a long sigh, at length drawing a breath thru his teeth. "Well, on the bright side, it just so happens that I am nothing if not thorough, and saw fit to interrogate the scoundrel before surrendering her to the city guard."

"Let me guess, black skull, soporific mist?" Even as Isaac swore beneath his breath, Poe gave a knowing nod. "Yeees, it was I along with my retinue who investigated those crimes at the request of Ms. Echorn's superiors. A naive young half-human woman by the name of Aemalie had been duped into making an attempt upon that very relic, unaware that it had already been made off with by another. I apprehended her, of course, and I believe she now resides in the Lord Marshal's prison."

"Yes, a most accurate description of our ravishing villainess," Poe said, enthusiasm evident in his tone. "Yet it was not in some insectile guise by which I uncovered her, but in the unassuming garb of a priestess, a priestess of Bälezu in fact."

Quite satisfied with the intrigue his tale was eliciting, Poe gave a smug smile and continued. "You see, following the murderous events of Astrath 1st, Corporal Echorn was called upon to investigate one possible lead into the identities of Governor Taurion's assassins. Whilst in the escort of my wards, Shea and Fahren, the trio engaged in espionaaage, spying on a meeting between O'beilumanji and the 'she-devil' Lucretia, who at that time wore the guise of a Zuckish witch, and those that madman hoped to enlist in his rebellion."

"What ultimately uncovered Lucretia as something more that a mere human were the great black wings and terrible scythe she revealed when she struck down those who refused O'beilumanji's call to rebellion! The other important fact discovered by the good corporal was that while O'beilumanji did have murderous intentions towards the late Governor, neither he nor those under his influence could claim any hand in the slaying of Gwiniel Taurion. It was another group that perpetrated that deed."

"Black hair by any chance?"

"Ah!" Poe seemed pleasantly surprised, "Well that would certainly explain the reaction with which my tale was met! Tell me, your Highness, did this Chivane also dabble in diabolic conjurations?"

"While I fancy myself quite the aspiring orator, I am not in fact waxing poetic, at least not on that account. I should describe the pigmentation of someone of half-Dafari heritage as being more of a dark caramel in hue." Lifting his hand and gesturing towards Isaac, he said, "That guardswoman who came for the Marshal earlier. Corporal Echorn is the self-same warrior-priestess who came to my aid in the Coliseum. These elven ladies looked nothing like her. Rather their complexions were more akin to the color of a shadow cast upon a white floor, or perhaps a dull pewter. Quite striking I dare say..."

Suddenly aware of the whimsy in his own voice, Poe cleared his throat, and tugged at his collar. "Yes, now then as to this Shivone woman. My experiences this past month lead me to believe that she and the black-winged angel, Lucretia, are related in some way."

"Hmmm..." Upon seeing the Princess nod in agreement, the young lord resigned his overtures for knighthood with a melancholy sigh.

"Yeees, I suppose a retelling is in order no doubt."

Stroking his chin thoughtfully, Poe thought back to what had sparked the conversation in the first place. "I believe it was the mention of two elven sisters, Elvalith, her twin Kai'ell, and their ash-grey complexions, that led to my tale. You see Highness, the fact that there are both grey-skinned elves in the depths of the jungle and at least one diabolically-inclined high elf in Port Eldarion is of great interest to me. And lest I cause any undue clamour, let me assure you that beyond accidentally lodging a few poisoned arrows in the flesh of a certain warden, Elvalith and Kai'ell proved themselves valuable allies and staunch foes of banditry — no devil-summoning of any sort on their account."

"Ah!" Upon hearing the news, Poe straightened and gave the older elf a polite nod before giving a short congratulatory clap of his hands.

"I say well done Dame Amhranai. Even a proper nobleman, such as myself, does not enjoy the distinction of knighthood until the hour of their ordination. In that regard, I readily admit you have the better of me, though hopefully not for overly long, hmm?"

Although the youth may have thought himself clever, the way he glanced toward the Princess, bobbing his shoulders as he did so, left no doubt that he was trying to suggest she might knight him as well.

"A tattooed elf, two dwarves, a human, and a woman with dragon wings," Poe mused aloud, stroking his chin all the while, "I must saaay, your Highness keeps almost as eclectic a retinue as I myself. Ha haaa!"

With a faint smile of amusement at what he must have seen as a good-natured ribbing, Lord Poe gave a satisfied "hmm..." seemingly enjoying his anticipated applause. When none was forthcoming, he looked from face to face expectantly before shrugging it off.

Poe's eyes went wide and he put a hand to his chest. "But why? Had the assassin not already made his point? What benefit was there in maiming a foolish young woman so?"

"One moment," Poe held up a finger, "after all that Armando and Silvia did not wed? Why ever not? Lucio was disgraced while young Capriti must have seemed the hero by comparison!"

It was everything Poe could do to keep his composure. "For the love of... Yes. Yes! What happened next?"

"Ye gods, woman, Lord Gallo yet lives! Are you telling me that callow oaf actually won the duel? Where is the Lady Gallo now, this Silvia?"

As Sasha paused for effect, keeping the others in suspense, Poe took the bait, "Let me guess, Lucio lost, Armando won, and the brigand got paid by the Capritis only to wake up with a dagger in his throat the next morning."

"Wait wait," Poe interrupted, "I thought you said all the good professionals worked for the same guild. How did Lucio's man make off with this Silvia?"

"Naturally," Poe murmured beneath his breath, obviously bored.

Poe sighed and shook his empty tumbler to get the butler's attention. "Face-melting I believe."

"Contracts? Acid?" Poe raised an eyebrow in suspicion. "My good woman, this seems rather dramatic."

Even as Sasha looked imploringly at her friend, Poe saw a chance to free himself of Lureene's grasp as he spied the trio of tumblers on the silver serving plate. "I rather imagine we should make ourselves comfortable while we await her Highness' leisure, hmm?"

Reclaiming his right hand and sniffing slightly as he rubbed the fingertips of his gloves together, the young lord retrieved a glass for the lady first, ahead of Lord Hlokenar and himself. When the lady had seated herself on a divan wide enough for company, he took the opportunity to find his own spot in a high-backed wing chair wide only enough for himself.

Perhaps eager to blot out the high-pitched whine of the human woman with his own nasal voice, he asked, "I say, are you quite certain her Highness will look kindly on this interruption? She seemed rather... explicit in the request she made of you, Lady Ourson. Naturally I shouldn't wish you to risk a chastisement on my account."

Although it might have slipped past Lureene's wine-addled senses, the slight crack in Poe's voice as he voiced his concern for Lureene's well-being could have made the Major laugh. Amoya had asked him if the spoiled youth was behaving himself, yet evidently he now felt some reason to fear the wrath of a bubbly blonde Princess.

"I– ah..." Poe seemed altogether bewildered by the sudden change in plans. Hesitantly taking Lureene's hand as Sasha paced back and forth, he ventured, "I see that is a name that carries some weight, evidently. It might then interest you to know that upon investigating this Shivone's chambers a ward of sorts was triggered. Thankfully we were not smote, yet my companions and I did receive a most unsettling vision — that of 'Lucretia' in her true form intimating that she could see us."

As the four followed the butler out of the atrium, he continued, "Truthfully, that was the impetus that drove me to put some distance between my wards and Port Eldarion. I could not very well have their blood on my hands after all. Oh Auntie was herself quite inconsolable, yet even still, clever woman that she is, it was a simple matter to persuade them to leave by convincing them it was not for their own sake but mine."

"Aaah," he sighed, "at least one does not need to be possessed of great intellect to display loyalty, as (I'm sure) you well know, Lady Ourson." A nod towards Sasha, who was walking in front of them, made his inference clear.

Smiling now, as he frame his tapered chin between thumb and forefinger, the elf answered, "Shivone... Her name was Shivone."

Poe seemed about ready to shake his head and correct the hapless human yet again when he was given pause. "Why... yes actually, that's exactly it, my good woman."

"It was all a ruse to create the appearance than the culprit had tunneled their way in and met their own death. We (or whomever else might have investigated) were only ever intended to find Aemalie's remains... evidence of a botched burglary."

The huntress was on the verge of interrupting yet again, when the young magus held up a finger. "AH! But what happened to the skull you ask? Obviously the magical apparatus was stolen by someone of rank within the temple before Aemalie entered! Remember, her employer had intended the girl to make her way far enough into the vault to encounter the giant beetles. Even slipping free of a party of mourners, she could not have done so if the black skull was still present and active! The burglar, then, was the self-same woman who had contracted Aemalie. A wolf in sheep's clothing, a false priestess who had duped even the servants of a deity who knows the fate of all men and elves, a mysterious woman of great charm and beauty–"

"Was it now?" The young elf seemed genuinely interested. "You see, Lady Ourson, Lord Hlokenar, my retinue is only recently returned to Port Eldarion. Following the events I am about to reveal, we had set off deep into Rivermarch and were both surprised and over-joyed to learn that O'beilumanji had been brought to task, although the toll of elven life was far too great a price to pay..."

"Yet another villainy that eluded my reach..." With a melancholy sigh, Poe handed his glass to your attending servant and turned away so that his face could not easily be seen. "After interrogating both Aemalie and the staff of The Keg, we had reason to suspect the theft was what I have told is termed an 'inside' job. Indeed, the evidence we discovered in the catacombs led us to believe that Aemalie and ourselves had been set up. She to be shouldered with the blame, ourselves to have discovered her remains."

"You see," he spun about, "the walls of the crypts had been recently breached from the sewers allowing all manner of magically-enhanced vermin to penetrate the interior. Being immune to the mind-affecting effects of such a relic, they should have persevered even where the thief might have faltered. There is only one problem... Aemalie is no mage, not even a sorceress. While that would have worked to the advantage of our mastermind, the vermin devouring her remains after she slipped in and was immobilized that evening, our clever girl was a legitimate scoundrel in her own right — she well knew of the temple's defenses and (as a precaution) had 'obtained' a medallion that girded her against the relic's presumed effects!"

Poe nodded slowly, a black eyebrow arched incredulously over one of his orange eyes. "Riiiight... And I imagine their descendants would not be well-pleased either."

Shaking his head, Poe went on, "In any event, we did end up capturing a thief, a half-human girl name Aemalie who claimed to have tarried in the crypt after slipping in with a group of mourners. A contact she had met at Gods Save the Keg, that raven-haired, blue-eyed example of elven pulchritude I mentioned earlier, had apparently tasked her with stealing the crypt's defense mechanism — a black skull that filled the catacombs with a sort of soporific mist I am told."

At the mention of the black skull, you immediately remember the relic used by Lucretia to lay Arrowhead's defenses low.

"Excellent! Well, since we all follow, there was a rather delicate matter the leaders of that temple needed to be handled... discretely."

"Now granted," he admitted, "none of my darker-hued contacts are the sort I would consider to be discrete, yet Amoya is both a devotee of Bälezu and a member of the City Guard, and the others are quite obviously outsiders even to uncivilized circles. That being the case, it was not surprising the Monseigneur would request Ms. Echorn by name from the Marshal's office."

When the others looked at him questioningly, Poe tilted his head and raised a finger. "Ah but 'what did he require and what did we learn,' you ask. Suffice it to say that a relic of some potency had been absconded with... 'stolen' if you will. Given that many of the Patricians have their wealth interred there with their bones and ashes, you might see why they would have a concern."

"Well," Poe said heavily, "without the strength of arms to 'nip the problem in the bud', as the lovely Lóthanel would say, nothing happened at all! If only I might have been there, with blade in hand and spells at my fingertips. Alas..."

Behind Poe's back, Isaac merely rolled his eyes and shook his head. As if the youth could have made a difference given the difficult your own group faced against such monstrously strong opponents.

None the wiser to the glance shared between the Marshal and Lureene, Poe continued, "Some time passed after that escapade before I and my wards were subject to any further excitement — a droll romp in the catacombs beneath the Vault of Bälezu."

Looking to Sasha he clarified, "That's Dalus to you humans, by the by."

Giving a blazé sigh at the reference, Poe continued, "As I was saying, it was none other than the late terrorist, O'beilumanji, and his witch that the three encountered there. The would-be murderer was obviously recruiting malcontents to perpetrate acts of violence and mayhem at his whim, but what was surprising is that he could not claim responsibility for the Governor's death."

"In fact," he waved a finger for emphasis as his glass was refilled, the faintly sweet, rosé having little effect upon him, "neither he nor his witch seemed to know who was responsible! So you see, the natives themselves are not so united in purpose as we might suppose."

"That said, and I believe this shall interest both you and her Highness," Poe took a long sip, his throat no doubt becoming dry by this point, "those few brave souls that openly refused O'beilumanji soon met their end — cut down by a giant scythe wielded by a seemingly frail witch who did manifest great, black, feathered wings!"

"Ah, yeees... 'Lucretia' you called her. Hmm..."

Seemingly lost in thought for a moment until the red head cleared her throat, the young elf sniffed and began, "It had just occurred to me that things might have gone quite differently had a high elf, such as myself, been present at that meeting. You see, I only learned of it post-facto from my wards, so you must excuse me Lord Marshal, if my recount is less complete than that which you yourself received by way of the Corporal."

"Nearly two weeks after that fateful day, we knew several things. Firstly, even his Holy Eminence, Lord Minister Mandir Darodel, could not restore Governor Taurion to life — her heart and very soul had been stolen! Secondly, we had been apprised that aid both military and diplomatic was en route from Mennen Fedleth. What we did not know was how her Highness had been delayed, nor the whereabout of the assassins."

When Isaac nodded in affirmation, Poe continued, "Tasked with an 'under cover' mission from her superior, Lieutenant Elhendu Taurmithant, Amoya, Fahren, and Shea, all dark-skinned (or furred as the case may be), rendezvoused with a contact outside The Plantation at a rather notorious establishment with a colorful name that I care not repeat."

"As you no doubt have already heard, I made a valiant attempt to save Governor Taurion's life. It all began when the late Governor Taurion held a rather unorthodox spectacle in the Coliseum — a Malatestan-style series of gladiatorial bouts between prisoners! It was during the grim struggle that ensued where I made the acquaintance of the black-furred cat-girl, Shea, the granite-skinned warrior Fahren, and our half-Dafari ally, Amoya. While dear Amoya was present to provide final rites to the fallen and healing to any victors, the others were themselves unwilling (albeit effective) gladiator."

"On an amusing side-note," he intimated, "I learned that Shea was ousted from her tribe for being insane, whereas the brute Fahren was arrested for breaking a nobleman's fist with his jaw."

"In any event, for having the good sense to show concern for an elvish hero," he placed a hand to his chest, indicating himself, "Auuuntie secured their release as wards of our estate. Naturally, I was overjoyed to have such fascinating research specimens, but I shan't confuse you with the details of my findings."

"Now let's see," he mused, taking a sip of wine, "where was I?"

"Ah, I had not realized you were on such familiar terms."

With a brief laugh at his own joke, Poe accepted a glass of wine from the returning servant and wet his throat. "As it so happens, the members of my... retinue did encounter that she-devil you named in the company of that foul miscreant, O'beilumanji, not long after Governor Taurion's demise."

As he began to recount the events, Lord Poe rose from his seat and began to pace, one hand stroking his chin as he swirled the wine in his glass with the other, pinkie finger gracefully extended.

Note: I'll reply with a bulleted summary a bit later as that should make for a more-suitable reference.

Poe's brow wrinkled, eyes very nearly pleading as he shook his head, "Lady Ourson, you have me at a loss. I have named two elves of the ashen persuasion and neither bears answers to the name Lucretia."