Crownmother

[Roht Mirage]

Closed to hoytti

Astarelle drew ink across the pages with her finger tips, forming elegant script in her wake.

To further the shared interests of Alerar and Corone....

In light of the prisoner's contributions to Alerar's security...

Philomel didn't do anything wrong!

She stared at that last part as if someone else had written it. Then, she drew her whole hand across the page, finger-painting it into oblivion. Bury me. I'm supposed to be the diplomatic one, Astarelle pouted. She remembered Jensen's last words to her, that he was on his way to deal with a political mine field, even though one could hardly find more destructive potential than Jensen Ambrose in a tent full of elves. That's supposed to be me, Astarelle repeated to herself, though she knew the official reasons for excluding her. By the depths, the entire bloody camp probably knew by now.

In the matter of Philomel van der Aart, Astarelle's judgement was compromised, and that was putting it as benignly as possible.

She stood from her camp table full of now-illegible notes and paced the small amount of floor space she had. It was common knowledge among the Ixians that she enjoyed her solitude. When that necessitated a tent barely larger than a castle pantry, sandwiched between the Ixian bunk tent and their supply depot, she tried to be appreciative. She really really tried, even if she sometimes felt that she couldn't breath.

Grabbing her staff from where it lounged on her bed, she took the two steps to the tent entrance, then stopped. Her fingers tapped the length of Fallien reed. When Astarelle has her staff, you know she's looking for trouble, she imagined the knights saying. Perhaps they had never said such a thing. But, if they knew her, they would – and they would be blasted right.

With a sigh, Astarelle tossed her staff across the tent and slipped through the flap. The first breath of nocturnal mountain air cut through her blouse, but she didn't want to go back in for her coat. She just crossed her arms and thought of her desert home as she walked.

Wary eyes, both human and drow, followed her passage. Surely, they had all been instructed to keep her away from the tent that Philomel was being held in. They had no authority to keep her from taking a walk, though. In that spirit, Astarelle responded with smiles and nods, drawing the same from her Ixian brothers and uppity disdain from the elves. “Leaflickers,” she muttered softly in a voice that sounded very much like Jensen's.

In the interests of not drawing suspicion (though even she wasn't sure what she had planned, if anything) she moved generally away from the prisoner tents, past clumps of humans and elves who were doing their best to not regard each other unless their duties required it. Eventually, she found herself in front of the large medical tent. Both races milled about, so grieved by the pain and stress inside that they momentarily regarded each other as equals.

A memory flitted across Astarelle's mind like a butterfly far from home over stormy seas. If he survived... he's probably...

She stepped into the tent with enough purpose that the drow at the door merely nodded her in. Immediately, the smell struck her. It was the unending war of blood versus disinfectant. Moans slipped from all the races, bound as they were in unifying pain. Her target was among them.

In all honesty, he was something of a centerpiece in the tent. Multiple beds had been pushed together to form a shape almost large enough for him to lay over. His prone form was still as tall as the shoulders of the drow attending him. Apparently, the healing had been administered as best it could, because the physician was packing up his tools. Astarelle caught his eyes as he moved away from the bed. There was a very distinct impression of, “Now I've seen everything,” washing over his face. Then, he caught her gaze and gave his quiet consent for her to approach.

With an uncertain smile for the healer, Astarelle moved toward the “bed” where the giant lay. “Sorish, is it?” she asked softly, quoting from the whispers she had heard about the camp, “I never properly introduced myself. I'm Astarelle.” Introductions. Bury me. He's already chased me down once for doing... something to his crown. She coughed lightly to shut her mind up, then said with a casual show of nonchalance, “I promised I'd talk to you after the dragon fell. So, here I am.”

[hoytti]

Sorish was not happy. First he fell off the back of a dragon. Then he had to slowly trudge through the snow. Finally an airship crashed on top of him. Luckily for him, the rest of the crew that had been behind him had escaped injury and pulled him out of the wreckage. Unluckily, he was now stuck in bed until his exoskeleton mended itself. This meant that he would be bored for the next week or so. Oh and constantly have a headache from the smell that permeated the tent. Perfect.

The healer had just applied the last of an experimental salve that he thought would make the coral grow quicker. Sorish however wasn’t as convinced, if only they would have let him rest in a tub of water, he would have healed quite quickly. Problem was they didn’t have the amount of water they would have needed. The trek to the ocean would have killed Sorish. And as for his water filled rob, it had to be sent off to the ocean to be repaired. Nope, there was no way he was going to be able to get the amount of water needed to heal quickly, so now he was stuck here with nothing to do, on this group of beds that wasn’t long enough to support his feet. At least they made sure his head was rested nicely on a pillow.

The doctor had just turned to leave when he stopped to look at something, or someone. In walked Astarelle. Sorish watched as Astarelle gave a slight smile as the doctor left the tent. She then turned towards him “Sorish is it?” she asked softly, “I never properly introduced myself. I'm Astarelle.” Something must have caught in her throat because she gave an almost unnoticeable cough. “I promised I'd talk to you after the dragon fell. So, here I am.” Her voice was uncaring but at least she told him the truth.

Sorish really didn’t care if she had tried to run. He was sure they would run into each other again eventually. However, she chose to face him which he not only appreciated but also applauded. The fact that the last time they encountered each other was right after the incident that he needed to talk to her about meant he had been angry then. That also meant that he had threatened her. If the roles had been reversed, Sorish was sure he would have feared her, even though she was smaller than him.

Sorish gave a slight nod of his head, which he regretted right away as the movement reopened a few of the cracks that had closed since he was brought into the clinic. He cringed slightly at the pain but composed himself as he said, “I’m glad that you have sought me out. It shows that you are honest, which is something that I admire in people. Now, before we get onto the main topic, would you tell me what exactly happened? All I remember is fighting the zombie like creature on the back of the dragon when it went down. Then as I tried to lead a group out of the area, an airship landed on me.”

[Roht Mirage]

“I could tell you, but you might not believe me,” Astarelle said with a shake of her head and an exasperated chuckle at how ridiculous the day had been.

With a grunt, Sorish settled his head on his pillow. “I have no reason to doubt you.”

Astarelle almost laughed out loud; darkly. You haven't heard much about me, then, she thought as she looked sharply away. A spot of moisture welled from one eye, but she sniffled and wiped at her face as if the smell of injury was bothering her. Something in the salves the drow used was rather potent, filling her nose with menthol.

Still looking away from the giant, she searched for a chair. There was one a few steps away. She could have brought it over. But, she paused. He seemed unable to move his head without pain, and sitting would necessitate that he turn his head quite a distance to see her small form. With a gentle smile and a glance over his blanketed body, she decided to stand close so that he wouldn't have to shift.

Did a creature like him even need a blanket right now? He didn't seem the kind of person to dissuade the drow from their usual practices, so he might have allowed it only as a courtesy to them. Perhaps a courtesy to others as well. She had no desire to see what happened when his coral shell cracked open to show... whatever was inside.

“Where to start,” Astarelle mused aloud, focusing only on his face. It seemed both alien and gentle at the same time. “I parted with you right after you saved me. I had someone I had to protect.” Her words ended sharply, signifying that she would say no more about that 'someone'. “Then, Jensen decided it would be a great idea to crash the dragon.” With a shake of her head and a soft exhale, she continued. “I don't know if you saw him during the fight, but I'm sure you heard him – laughing like a lunatic. He doesn't always think his plans through. I was able to teleport them to safety, him and Philomel.”

Bury me. I didn't want to talk about her, she scolded herself. Resignation followed.

She sighed and spoke in a softer tone. “I don't think my plans through either, to be honest. I risked my life to save Philomel's fox. Somehow, we actually survived.” She gave a short laugh as if it was becoming something of a cosmic joke. “I wound up on the dragon's back where it was trapped between two mountains. From there... I don't really know what happened. There was an explosion at its head. I think Jensen may have rammed an airship into it, though I'm not sure how he got drow permission for that. I don't doubt that he would do it, given half a chance, and the dragon is certainly dead.”

Her eyes began to flutter shut as she found herself drifting more and more into the scene. “I passed out soon after. Don't know how I even made it as far as I did. I met someone on the back of that dragon- I know. It's weird. Who runs into old enemies on the back of a dragon? Anyway, I think he might have been planning to hurt me, but Philomel protected me. There's conflicting stories about exactly what she did. They say that Zack almost died. But I... I don't think she did it. She wouldn't kill a man on his own sword. She's too proud for that – has her own weapons, doesn't need any man's. And now they have her as a prisoner for assaulting Zack Blaze, who was already a prisoner. I don't get these people, Coronian or Aleran. Justice was never this complicated in Fallien. I'm supposed to be the diplomatic one. I'm supposed to blasted deal with it. But, I... I don't know what to do.”

She blinked, sucked in a sharp breath of menthol-and-blood-laced air, then colored suddenly and looked at her feet. “I think half of that was just supposed to stay in my head,” she said sheepishly, unable to turn her mouth off for some reason.

Perhaps, in all Sorish's talk of honesty, a part of her wanted to prove him right.

Yup. Astarelle is asking a Coralian for advice in matters of justice and Corone/Alerar relations. She's not in a very self-assured place right now. Feel free to be the catalyst that gets her moving toward the events of Philomel's escape.

[hoytti]

Sorish listened calmly as Astarelle explained the events that had occurred. Oh Sorish knew who she was. However, Sorish ran on the philosophy, "Don't believe a fourth of what you hear and half of what you see for most of the information you receive is wrong." So Sorish listened and watched to make sure that nothing was a lie, and it seems his philosophy paid off. There was no sign of a lie in Astarelle's eyes.

So that's what happened to the dragon, Sorish thought but the last part struck him. They jailed someone for attacking a prisoner?

"Astarelle," Sorish said with a friendly but serious expression, "The only reason that I can think of for capturing someone who attacked a prisoner is because that specific prisoner has information they need. If this is true they might be just holding her till they can get this 'Blaze' back to a place where they can lock him up and interrogate him. However, as it is wrong to hold someone for something like this, I would be happy to hear she 'escaped'." Sorish gave Astarelle a suggestive smirk but that smirk turned back to a slight frown. "However, I just hope that if she escapes, another doesn't take her place."