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Arcana · Posted: Mon May 03, 2004 12:32 pm Post subject: Rock Bottom?

Arcana awoke to a novel feeling: sobriety. In fact, it was the disillusioned paladin’s first awareness of sobriety in over a fortnight. Most unfortunately, this new sensation was accompanied by a fortnight’s worth of hangovers. Arcana groaned aloud and rolled over onto her side. To her muddled astonishment, she saw flowers. Rather sadly squashed flowers. Where the hell was she?

With effort, she got shakily to her feet. She held her head, not entirely sure it would remain attached without some assistance. After suppressing a wave of nausea, she emptied the dregs of a liquor bottle on the ground with series of vile curses learned in her misspent youth and the always heartfelt, oft-repeated promise “never again!” She squinted blearily at her surroundings. The first thing she noticed was that someone had made the damn sun entirely too bright this morning. The second thing she noticed was that her weapons were missing. The third thing she observed was that she appeared to be standing in one of Duchess Molly Willow’s flower beds. Oops. She stepped out of the flowers and shook the petals out of her cloak. Despite her recent debauchery, Arcana still possessed the build of a tall, well-conditioned warrior… the damage to Molly’s rare campions was not inconsiderable. They had been a lovely shade of red, most unusual and bred to match Molly’s House colors. Well, this would no doubt require some embarrassing explanation at some point. Fortunately no one seemed to be at the estate presently. How in blazes had she ended up sleeping in Molly’s garden… oh wait, now she remembered… and crushed flowers were the least of her reasons for shame.

The previous evening, Arcana had been industriously extending a rather substantial drinking binge, rounding out two weeks’ inebriation at the Garden of Sin and Desire. Unfortunately, this particular establishment was not living up to its reputation for distraction. Not only was the place filled with orcs attempting to play Shakespeare (?! No… that must have been drunken imaginings… Arcana shook her head to clear it, and instantly regretted the sudden motion.), but the tavern patrons seemed to be conspiring to discuss the city of Trinsic as frequently as possible. The last thing she cared to think of was Trinsic. Events surrounding that city and certain of its residents had set her on her downward spiral in the first place. The cursed city had been the bane of her entire adult life. Fortunately, the Garden’s proprietor – one Silent Poet – had cheerfully poured a steady supply of a most excellent liquor that was highly effective at suppressing both coherent thought and orcish iambic pentameter. A simple upending of the remaining contents of her purse on the bar provided her with her own bottle and a winking promise of more.

Arcana had sat at the bar, alone and drinking down her sorrows and guilt, reasonably content to wallow in her own misery after telling off an amorously minded orc (bloody hell, fortunately it was NOT possible to be THAT drunk). She had looked – and still looked – as disreputable and worse for wear as anyone might after a fortnight of such a passtime and avoiding such inns and establishments that a noble lady such as herself would ordinarily frequent, including her own residence. As far as she was concerned, this could continue indefinitely. It was far better than any alternative her stricken mind had come to in the first days of her grief and anger.

So given the circumstances, she was not particularly pleased to notice the tall, broad-shouldered form of Arieus De’Chevia sitting next to her.

Arieus De'Chevia · Lore Master Joined: 20 Apr 2004 Posts: 1132

It was a rather pleasant morning, and Arieus had been about on patrol of Gauntlet Island. The day transferred into afternoon, as he crossed a bridge, and rounded the area for a third time. The swordsman was quickly becoming familiar with the surroundings associated with a transference of his paytons on nobility to H*G.

As the day was soon shifting into the early evening, he found a rather pleasant spot to relax and reflect on recent, past and even potential future possibilities. The near distant past he simply did not wish to dwell upon, but did find his station, in current with H*G rather a paradox if not completely odd. For, at one time, following his demise with his former guild, did he desire, perhaps to become a simple mercenary, and quite frankly could care less from whom, less it be his former guild.

There were issues, even with his current guild that bothered him dramatically, and at which occasion he took to reflect upon and noted certain consistency with that of the former. Poor communication, whining lesser knights, a lack of his inclusion in plans, and so on. He considered all these things, and simply decided to ignore them for now. For he had been in seventeen major battles, hundreds of small excursions, intense training with the blade, visited all the shrines, was well educated (despite his obviously savage looking outward appearance- including the lack of a shirt, and inclusion of a kilt), and helped train countless squires, etc.. (and yadda, yadda)

He sighed deeply, and though he would much rather pass this and every eve alone, or in battle, for some odd reason, he decided to seek the company of others. Ale called, in strict ration to himself, the taste of a few sounded good. He had heard tell of some tavern, and made his way there. Along the way he donned his light armor, and dabbed his face and exterior body with some fresh water and cleansing soap.

Upon arrival to said tavern, he immediately considered turning and heading to the forest line near Citadel Dragonbane, which was owned by his brother. The peak on which the citadel rested was simply too chilly, and he wished only warmth at this time. Thus, he reluctantly dismounted his steed, and entered the noisy facility, only to first direct his attention to orcs and then to a crazed person spewing lame tales and such. The scent of ale kept his focus, thus he decided to browse further, the place.

His eyes widened to huge grey saucers as he noted his former liege lady, the Duchess of Trinsic, Arcana. She appeared in a rough state and obviously under the influence. He approached her and the scent of neglect mixed with rot gut ale and/or liquor was more than he could stand. He approached her, and paid the proper respects.

It did not take too long to realize that Lady Arcana had become depressed, disgruntled, and neglected. Arieus squelched his fury at whomever and whatever had done this to his once cherished duchess, for Arcana and he had been through many good times, and hard times. This was defiantly going to be a hard time, as he knew the lady’s rather persistent, aggressive, if not overly feisty behavior when intoxicated. But, alas, this appeared more than mere single event indulgence, and as a friend (and secret love for this woman) did he set forth to try to see what could be done to bring the brilliant Arcana from darkness to light. He ignored the stench, stale smell of alcohol, tattered clothing, and sluggish acknowledgement of his presence, and began to associate with her, cautiously.
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Arcana · Posted: Wed May 19, 2004 12:00 am Post subject:

While elsewhere in the lands, her former comrades were rediscovering their destiny and remembering her fighting spirit, Arcana was being poured through a moongate on the supporting arms of Arieus De'Chevia and Molly Willow. Arieus, shocked at the state in which he found her, had tried to halt her drinking. Arcana had grown combative, even going to far as to attempt to shoot an apple from a servant's head by way of demonstrating her perceived sobriety before Arieus siezed her weapons. Finally, Arcana reached the blissful state of drunken stupor that she'd been seeking all evening, and cared not where she was led.

They deposited her at Molly's castle, in a pleasant garden in the elven style, thinking it would soothe her. However, the garden featured a prominent stone ankh, which drew a totally unexpected and shockingly vile series of curses from Arcana. Arieus and Molly exchanged worried glances. This whole line of behavior was so far out of character for Arcana that it could scarcely be believed. Their friend appeared to be angry with the entire world, and foremost on that list was her own self.

With kind words and attentive listening, Molly was able to coax from Arcana the tale of what had caused her to fall so far. Arcana bitterly blamed herself for the untimely death of her young daughter. What was more, this event had coalesced feelings regarding her estranged marriage to Duke Robert that had eaten away at her for years. The whole series of recent events had precipitated a crisis of faith in everything that Arcana had ever believed in from her friends to the code of Virtues themselves. After this long tirade of rage and grief, the emotionally and physically drained woman passed out stone cold.

Stunned, Molly and Arieus quietly left her to sleep it off. Molly gave strict orders to the guards to watch over her and keep her from further drinking. Unseen, Arieus lingered to watch over his former Lady himself for a long while.

Arieus De'Chevia · Lore Master Joined: 20 Apr 2004 Posts: 1132

Arieus looked upon the now sleeping form of his beloved Lady Arcana, and was soothed by the ever warming, eleven eyes of his current liege Lady, Duchess Willow. He shook his head, and hung it sadly. Molly stood there for a moment and simply nodded, looking to Arcana and him, and then gracefully strolled away, stopping only while passing her Grand General, to smooth the vapor of a tear upon the floor. Molly said nothing further, but those wise, ever sympathetic eyes told Arieus all he required, in so doing, kept him steadfast in this his station.

He then took a moment to see that the two bearers were awake, alert, and minding their posts, then returned briefly to check on Arcana. His observation revealed that she had curled upon one of Molly’s prize shrubs, and was snoring slightly. He sniffed the air, which was still filled with the stench of old, liquid spirits.

Arieus folded his arms, and leaned upon a Corinthian pillar strewn with elven lore, as he could make no sense of it, being human and never instructed, he merely let his thoughts wonder back to events passed.

He knew that Arcana was prone to such episodes, yet only under the direst of circumstances. He knew precious little as to the state of her daughter’s death, but was sympathetic. But, what he did know was that here lay a noble woman, and a very important member of the realm. He still had faith in her, and the vast abilities that could carry her onward, perhaps even resolve some of the issues that had brought her to this end. His thoughts drifted and mixed with sleep and alertness, and it was then that after a long evening he heard the bushes and their embracive leaves stir with the waking, hung over form of Arcana.

His eyes widened, as he fixed himself for the next ordeal. For not only was a drunk Arcana difficult, but a hung over Arcana was something even more challenging. Arieus’s eyes widened, and he approached her, to assist. He was, as he figured, quickly batted away, and cursed. He could not help but chuckle at the feisty spirit within her, even dazed, she was beginning to show vitality again. He turned his head as she vomited with a few nasty groans. Arieus winced.

“Lady Arcana, you are in The House of the Gauntlet, safe and well cared for, it appears time for us to have a chat?”

Then, did precede, her recovery which was unsually long, but then again so was the aforementioned binge, as many a cork had previously been popped. Arieus, admittedly knew not exactly what to do in her regard, yet offer his support, and assist, with a smile, in her needs. This being until Arcana was able to think clearly again.

As the day progressed, he could see that a reckoning within her had occurred, and a storm of though was brewing within Lady Arcana. Her storm would eventually be brought over the halls of her former guild, and rain down upon it a cleansing or total destruction. Arieus only offered that she join The Gauntlet, only if for awhile.
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Arcana · Posted: Wed May 19, 2004 8:16 pm Post subject:

Some days later, Arcana was once again in Molly's peaceful elven garden. However, this time the garden found her a sober, introspective companion, and even the stone ankh could find no fault in her behavior. She was studying the ankh with a small frown and a slight crease between her brows. In one hand she held a letter from Sir Black and Sir Tal, two of her former liegemen in the Knights of Sosaria. In the other she held her newly crafted badge from the House of the Gauntlet. Molly's generous offer which guaranteed position and prestige, and a desperate call on old loyalties from two comrades in arms that had no guarantee of anything at all, not even what the Knights used to represent in their glory days.

It was widely known among the Knights that she had not left on good terms, and that she and Robert had separated. What was not widely known was the circumstances surrounding their daughter's death. Sobriety and time were beginning to knit that wound, and Molly's wise and kind words had helped her to come to terms with the truth and accept the loss. Savages had killed her daughter in an ambush; their actions were beyond Arcana's control. The grief wound would be forever present, but its crushing weight was beginning to recede.

The day she angrily rode out of Elysium Castle, she had thought she was never coming back. Yet here was a letter from two of the small handful of remaining Knights asking for her return and pledging their fealty if she did. They also promised the support of the other remaining Knights, including, to her great astonishment, Sir Robert.

The letter was an eloquent expression of sincere freindship on behalf of all her old comrades still remaining in the Knights - Robert, Black, Tal, Nkai, Deidle, Velma, Vladimir, and Moonie. What was more, tucked into her pouch were letters from two former Knights - Rhen and Angus - who wrote with similar expressions. It moved her very deeply and warmed a bit of her soul she had felt frozen long ago.

Each letter contained a common thread, though the specific visions varied widely: they each had felt called to return to the Knights and revitalize the dying order. They had felt it most strongly, with every bit of their hearts and souls. And to a man, they wrote that the Knights would not be the same without her return.

What faith in gods had been shattered by fate's vagaries, was restored tenfold by faith in friendship and her Knights.

Arcana's brow smoothed and her frown vansihed as she reverently laid the House of the Gauntlet badge at the foot of the ankh. On her way down to the courtyard, she left a note explaining her actions to Molly.

Arcana was filling her water skin at the castle's delicate courtyard fountain for the journey to Elysium when she heard a soft step behind her. The faint jingle of chainmail and the smell of horse, steel, and leather easily brought the unseen person's identity to her. She smiled, corked her water skin, and turned to face him. As she turned, she carefully hid her expression.

"Hail, Arieus."

Arieus De'Chevia · Lore Master Joined: 20 Apr 2004 Posts: 1132

The twin moons of Sosaria had risen and fell several times since that night at the tavern, and Arcana had yet again proven a valuable member of a unit, more so, a leader. He had been off on some business, and noted upon his return, Arcana’s H*G badge, so carefully embroidered with the ranking of The Duchess of Trinsic, placed with apparent care near the ankh within the guild house. It was a sighn, he knew, that his friend, had again discovered, and been braught to yet another path. Arieus respected this and found that the placing of her badge in such a form, meant that Arcana was no longer “The Unbeliever” and had asceneded to her true place, being within the folds of light.

The Grand General knew whence she had come, for the epic tale of this noble lady had a much further path to go. A path that was strewn with weeds, vines, and even a couple nasty beasties, in figurative form. He slowly paced infront of the ankh for a long while, passing the badge and the symbol numerous times before he decided to leave everything as it was. He left the badge where she had placed it.

In so doing, he swallowed his urges to pursued Arcana to stay, for he had not the rite, and he had not the inward feeling that it would be virtuous. Once again, he knew that his former guild had torn something from his life, yet this time, it was likely for a more glorious purpose, or so Arieus believed. He thus emitted a long sigh and began to seek the departing Arcana.

“Hail Milady Arcana. It would seem thow hast yet found another calling, this calling being old, ancient, but of course tis your choice. I know you will do what you always have done…that being bringing your strength and fortitude to those whom need it more than I or us.”

His gaze traveled down to the floor, as he was obviously hiding some sort of inward pain. Yet, Arieus, being so used to, in building a tolerance to said pain, hid it very well. He then looked back up with a smile, and assisted Aracana in her departure from the halls of The Gauntlet. He gave her a hug, and expected that it serve as a symbolic gesture that her brief stay here brought joy to him and those of this guild. It also served as a token of a continuance that he was ever true, to the extent he could, to her respect, friendship, and ever changing adventure that was hers. He tried to vocalize it:

“I hope you know I will always try to be there for you, even if thow smell of Llama poo, stale B-H ale, and in the cloths of a peasant. Furthermore, I wish to only the best of luck in your noble endeavors. Please extend only the best of my wishes to my former guildmates, for they still have a friend here as well.”

He watched as she began her journey, and the pathetic attempt at a statement was squelched by the thunderous storm approaching.

“….I will always love you.”

He fourced himself back into the H*G guildhouse, and there rammed a fist into the wall, only to do moderate damage to his own gauntlet that adorned his right hand.

"....it is very hard to be patient." He said, as his attention was directed to the long list of enemies, but also to the long list of splintered light guilds. He simply shook his head. He then studied carefully a map which he had drawn in his mind, a map earlier found in the sands of Trinsic.
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Arcana · Posted: Wed May 26, 2004 11:40 pm Post subject:

As Arcana rode away, she heard Arieus call something, but his words were lost in an unusually loud rumble of thunder. She turned in the saddle to look back at him, but her view of his face was obscured by the approaching rain squall. Arcana was distracted from further squinting at Arieus by her horse’s balking at the sudden rain and she turned her attention to the animal. The aging warhorse gave a sigh of equine resignation and they continued on their way. Perhaps the rain dampened her spirits, or perhaps the dejected droop of Bear’s ears affected her, for despite her sudden sense of renewed purpose, Arcana couldn’t help but feel she was missing something very important.