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[Isk]

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The Legacy rocked against the waves of Sosaria’s ocean as delicate rain wept against the windows of Isk’s cabin. The Magnate had positioned his chair in the middle of his cabin and watched the play of shadows caused by swaying overhanging lanterns from his place upon it. His gloved left hand shook as it normally does lazily suspended over the side of the chair as Isk slouched down. The faintest light blue powder clung to the leather as testament to his addiction. He took on the relaxed posture of a drunk with his body so loose he rested his head against his right shoulder and allowed himself to think.

At times the shadows would depict familiar images which filtered through’s Isk’s glazed eyes. They would dance along the walls and meld with one another forming deeper shades, dissolving and reforming. At times something familiar presented itself and like a child looking at clouds Isk could see what ever he imagined in the shapes. He visualized Kotare’s form in the darkness but did not allow himself to mourn, Angelique had fixed his anger by what she allowed him to do to her. The beating she received at her husband’s hand removed Isk’s feelings of guilt and self loathing. He loved her. She had allowed him to shed his grief upon her, always the dutiful wife, and now it seemed that he had gotten it all out of his system. His wife suffered physically as he washed his conscience.

“But its an especially tainted conscience” Isk reminded himself. Only one week ago he had killed Mauric, a fellow human. The murder was done as a favour to a friend. It felt funny to him how he could grief the death of a man such as Kotare and not even so much as think the death of a man like Mauric was a mistake. But he knew it was a sin. In the end Isk understood it all came down to one thing; a man’s general worth. Of course humans were worth more than Sosaria’s other races but life among the elite proved to the Magnate that even within humanity itself there was a ladder at work, some were valued more than others. The thought had him wondering about his own relevance. A touching subject for one so conceited.

Isk had placed himself in the centre of many things, he had planted himself back into the Loyalist ranks of the Regency, had established ties with scores of criminals and privateers. The samurai of Zento were among his allies, the Yakuza, elements of the Ebon Skull were counted as associates. He was among the most accomplished diplomats in the realm, the perfect father and husband. He was a focal point and the fact that he could manage it all spoke of his genius. Conceit. “Am I relevant? Is air relevant? I am necessary” A sudden knock and the sound of a door opening caused him to break off his thoughts of self affection.

Rolling his eyes up he could feel a gaze from the doorway against the back of his chair. Too lazy to turn and spot the face of this crewman so bold as to let himself into the Magnate’s cabin he flicked his relaxed left hand behind the backrest of the chair in a gesture of ‘speak your peace’

There was a brief silence then... “Lord Magnate, we can not dock at the location you provided.” Isk sat up in the chair as the crewman continued “A trade ship has just come along side us and shared the news that Skara Brae has been taken over by some unknown force, the merchants babble something about a phoenix.”

“Bypass the city and take us home” Isk stated as he folded his hands on his lap. The ship shook and something fell from his work desk. In the darkness of the room Isk could only hear the Helm of Evil roll towards his feet. The mouth of it touched his boot like a supplicant.

“Yes my lord.” the deckhand replied before exiting the room. The doors closed. A cool breath trailed its way along the top of the Magnate’s head fluttering the hair of his mane as a gentle breeze would. He smiled thinking it to be the wind.

[You play it safe]

Sighing Isk leaned his head forward and glanced at the ebon helm at his feet. “How else can I maintain my place in the centre of everything? One mistake and I could lose my influence.” He could feel gentle hands on his shoulders, massaging any tension away.

[Now is the time to attempt great things Isk. You have just been given an opportunity to throw your hand against an aggressor. Take it, build your reputation as a fighter. Blood needs to flow]

“I’ve already felt blood on my hands”

Soft gentle hands rubbing against his shoulders.

[How can the blood of one or two men compare to the slaughter a war would bring? You can make yourself into a champion... like Kotare was. It takes risk, your name is in the word]

Isk smirked and shook his shoulders to dispel the hands. Sluggishly he raised himself from his seat and after a moment of finding his balance he appraised his position in the centre of the cabin.
.
[You only see shadows, politics. Nothing here is real. Battle is a step towards greater things]

“They violate the sanctity of Trammel, take lands without consulting the Regent...”

[Yes... yes... they bypass the authority you bow to. They think they are above the law]

“And so they have made an enemy in me.” Isk glanced down. The helm turned as the cabin rocked and for a moment Isk could see a metallic smile in the coldness of the shadow iron.