Winter
10-22-06, 12:04 PM
[Open to any who want to jump in. This is part of the Siege of Irrakam]
The Light of Irrakam
“Eoin! Eoin Roséli! Please approach the Counsel Room, it is your turn.”
The boy, though he is full age to be an adult his body often betrays him of that, took a deep breath and gathered up his things. Standing up from the leather-cushioned chair he sat at, Eoin looked around him to those sitting on the other chairs in the waiting room. All of them were Acolytes, and each of their faces showed the advanced signs of nervousness. Eoin secretly wished that his face would be kind enough to hide those telltale emotions. The waiting room itself was rather plain, but it seemed far better in comparison to the Judgment Chamber. Simple, featureless wooden walls comforted him, even if the atmosphere gave forth waves of anxiety. The Paige standing, impatiently waiting for Eoin at the two massive doors that led into the inner room of the Judgment Chamber, beckoned once more.
“Eoin, I will not repeat myself. Come now or forfeit your chance to speak to the Alchemology Elders.”
With a groan, Eoin once more gathered himself up, checking to make sure the strap of his pouch was firmly over his shoulder, he made his way in. It would do no good if he stumbled into the room in a mess, Alchemology pouch and ledger flying everywhere. An entire community’s fate rested on his shoulders, and he felt it was the Society’s duty to lend a hand. The small mansion was in Radasanth, and held both training facilities and quarters for Apprentice Alchemologists, but the conflict was smack in the middle of Fallien. The Acolyte had never even thought of this being an issue, for if the Society truly cared, they would whisk all of them there.
Entering the room with dedication, determination, but mostly hope, Eoin approached the chair that was set near the center of the room. It was positioned perfectly so that one could see each of the assembled fourteen judges, and vice versa. As the Acolyte sat down, a cloud crash sounded throughout the domed chamber as the massive doors slammed shut. A chill shiver crawled slowly up his spine, the boy’s eyes sweeping across the judges’ arbitrary faces. After a moment a silence, the chairman stood and donned a warm smile.
“Eoin Roséli, why do you come before us today?”
Clearing his throat and preparing himself, Eoin set his pouch on the floor and drew a letter out of it. The Paige walked over and took the note none too kindly, then gave it to the Chairman. The man, after reading it, nodded gravely and sat back down, passing it to all of the other judges. Each had a reaction of despair and worry, but none of them seemed truly ready to do anything about it. Eoin was more than ready, and his anger at their unwillingness to intervene just fueled his determination. Setting his face and losing all anxiety, the Acolyte stood and swept his gaze once more across the judges. The few that looked up motioned to their neighbors, seeing that the boy meant business now.
“What you have read is true. Irrakam, the capital of Fallien and haven for the Jya, is to be under siege shortly. If we do nothing, than we are no better than that dastardly cult that is besieging them! We are no better than the beasts, watching our fellows die without a lifted finger. I propose that a legion of our Alchemologists who are studied in healing and battle are sent through the Terminal to Irrakam to assist the Fallien people. Their despair has been enough, they do not deserve a second destruction. Furthermore, if the Alchemology Society does not see to it that they are assisted in any way we can possibly manage, then I will be seeing the true face of the Society and my place will not be here. There are many that support me, and if I leave, so will most of your Acolytes. I promise you that a large chunk of the Society will follow when the Acolytes leave. If the Society’s morals are such that they cannot help those in Althanas who need our knowledge, then what is the point of the Society?”
Taking a deep breath, and letting his nerves calm, Eoin looked at the expressions of the judges. They ranged from anger, shock, and one proud smile from the head chairman. That man, who had taken in this particular Acolyte as his own apprentice and treated him like a son was getting to see his boy grow up. Placing calm once more on as a mask, the boy continued.
“I mean this not as a threat, fair judges, but as a promise. It is your duty to decide what is both best for the Society and best for our intervention in Althanian worldly issues. If Fallien falls to the Cult of Mitra, then we will no longer be able to sit back and watch. The cult will be an enemy to our search of knowledge, and Fallien itself might fall off boundaries. Many more will be lost to trying to gain access to Fallien than would be lost to a war with the Cult of Mitra while it isn’t in control. An argument may be put forth that the Jya has enough followers and protectors already, with rumors of even the Phoenix appearing to aid her, but every person for her cause will help. We are the Alchemology Society can heal the injured, comfort the sick, transport the innocent to safety, and most of all, protect the city with our knowledge and gathered power. Wisdom is the strongest of powers, and the Society hoards it without avarice, so dare not say we are too weak to help the Jya and the Fallien people. Please, I beg of you, they need our help.”
Eoin fell back into his chair, trying his best to sit down with ease but every muscle in his body was turning to liquid. He had just shouted, cried, and commanded the judges that he respected so very much. Every fiber of his being was exhausted from the effort of will it took to not break. Timid eyes, with barely a freckle of determination left under the scrutiny of the judges glanced up to the counsel. Shock blasted across his system as he saw that almost every single one was smiling and nodding to his or her neighbor. They were going to do it, they were going to help, and to prove it the chairman stood yet again. With a broad grin on his face, he opened his arms to his judges and received an affirmative nod for each and every one.
“It is a consensus. Paige, please inform the Acolytes in the waiting room that the counsel will not be taking any more requests. We have work to do.”
Losing his control, Eoin leaped out of his seat and yelped his thanks. The judges began laughing, and all of them knew that this might be the last time they had a good laugh. A war was coming, and they had a lot to do. Instantly the Elders spoke amongst themselves, each head of a certain organization, and they began their duty. The letter had foretold that the siege would begin at dawn, so they had but hours.
- - - A while later - - -
Eoin stood, silently, in the Judgment Chamber once more. On top of his usual Acolyte’s attire he wore leather guards. One hand held a quarterstaff; though he had little experience in using it as a weapon it was also useful as a tool. A knife had been added to his belt as well. The chamber itself had changed drastically. Black sheets to dim the room as much as possible covered the long stained glass windows. Its round shape was taken advantage of and a massive circular rune had been drawn on the wooden planks. The chair and judgment bench were removed, though how he was unsure. A one-hundred-candle chandelier hung down from the middle of the room, its chain lengthened so that it nearly touched the floor. Alchemologists, each holding ready a quarterstaff, stood in a circle around the edges of the massive rune. This was the last group to be transported through the Terminal that allowed them to move themselves to any large city in Althanas. Two hundred Alchemologists, each with healing and battle experience were already in Irrakam positioned along the walls and in vital spots. In the center of the gathered circle was the fourteen judges and Elder Alchemologists. Instead of staves, they each had a shepherds crook.
The chairman beckoned to Eoin. Moving forward to greet him, the man smiled and hid the gravity of the situation behind that kind old face. His long gray bear and capped head gave off a grandfatherly impression. Reaching down, the Elder and father figure of Eoin gave him a scroll. On it, it described the use and appropriate application for a Symbol of Healing. Gasping, knowing that healing was only allowed for graduated Acolytes, he glanced back up at the Elder. Placing a finger to his mouth and chuckling, the old man motioned for him to move back into the circle. Burning the rune and its directions into his mind, Eoin stood once more in the ranks, not bothering to add it into his ledger yet.
As soon as he had taken his place, the Elders made a circle themselves and said five simple words, in a language long thought forgotten that only they knew. White light flew around the circle, the runes glowing with a powerful brilliance. A final whisper was heard echoing as loud as a scream through the room, ‘Irrakam!’ Multicolored energy blasted up from the ground, the wood and air singing in the joy of the magic, and they were swept away, leaving only the Paige. Moments later, a brilliant ball of energy appeared in a lower courtyard of the Jya’s mansion. Falling to the ground and exploding outwards in a flash, the elite of the Alchemology society, with Eoin present, stood there. The elders made their way to the Jya to converse with her, whilst the rest made to prepare for battle. Eoin exited out the front door, standing at the back of the forces gathered there. Smiling to himself with gratification that he had made this happen, the boy whispered to nobody in particular.
“The light of Irrakam will not be extinguished!”
The Light of Irrakam
“Eoin! Eoin Roséli! Please approach the Counsel Room, it is your turn.”
The boy, though he is full age to be an adult his body often betrays him of that, took a deep breath and gathered up his things. Standing up from the leather-cushioned chair he sat at, Eoin looked around him to those sitting on the other chairs in the waiting room. All of them were Acolytes, and each of their faces showed the advanced signs of nervousness. Eoin secretly wished that his face would be kind enough to hide those telltale emotions. The waiting room itself was rather plain, but it seemed far better in comparison to the Judgment Chamber. Simple, featureless wooden walls comforted him, even if the atmosphere gave forth waves of anxiety. The Paige standing, impatiently waiting for Eoin at the two massive doors that led into the inner room of the Judgment Chamber, beckoned once more.
“Eoin, I will not repeat myself. Come now or forfeit your chance to speak to the Alchemology Elders.”
With a groan, Eoin once more gathered himself up, checking to make sure the strap of his pouch was firmly over his shoulder, he made his way in. It would do no good if he stumbled into the room in a mess, Alchemology pouch and ledger flying everywhere. An entire community’s fate rested on his shoulders, and he felt it was the Society’s duty to lend a hand. The small mansion was in Radasanth, and held both training facilities and quarters for Apprentice Alchemologists, but the conflict was smack in the middle of Fallien. The Acolyte had never even thought of this being an issue, for if the Society truly cared, they would whisk all of them there.
Entering the room with dedication, determination, but mostly hope, Eoin approached the chair that was set near the center of the room. It was positioned perfectly so that one could see each of the assembled fourteen judges, and vice versa. As the Acolyte sat down, a cloud crash sounded throughout the domed chamber as the massive doors slammed shut. A chill shiver crawled slowly up his spine, the boy’s eyes sweeping across the judges’ arbitrary faces. After a moment a silence, the chairman stood and donned a warm smile.
“Eoin Roséli, why do you come before us today?”
Clearing his throat and preparing himself, Eoin set his pouch on the floor and drew a letter out of it. The Paige walked over and took the note none too kindly, then gave it to the Chairman. The man, after reading it, nodded gravely and sat back down, passing it to all of the other judges. Each had a reaction of despair and worry, but none of them seemed truly ready to do anything about it. Eoin was more than ready, and his anger at their unwillingness to intervene just fueled his determination. Setting his face and losing all anxiety, the Acolyte stood and swept his gaze once more across the judges. The few that looked up motioned to their neighbors, seeing that the boy meant business now.
“What you have read is true. Irrakam, the capital of Fallien and haven for the Jya, is to be under siege shortly. If we do nothing, than we are no better than that dastardly cult that is besieging them! We are no better than the beasts, watching our fellows die without a lifted finger. I propose that a legion of our Alchemologists who are studied in healing and battle are sent through the Terminal to Irrakam to assist the Fallien people. Their despair has been enough, they do not deserve a second destruction. Furthermore, if the Alchemology Society does not see to it that they are assisted in any way we can possibly manage, then I will be seeing the true face of the Society and my place will not be here. There are many that support me, and if I leave, so will most of your Acolytes. I promise you that a large chunk of the Society will follow when the Acolytes leave. If the Society’s morals are such that they cannot help those in Althanas who need our knowledge, then what is the point of the Society?”
Taking a deep breath, and letting his nerves calm, Eoin looked at the expressions of the judges. They ranged from anger, shock, and one proud smile from the head chairman. That man, who had taken in this particular Acolyte as his own apprentice and treated him like a son was getting to see his boy grow up. Placing calm once more on as a mask, the boy continued.
“I mean this not as a threat, fair judges, but as a promise. It is your duty to decide what is both best for the Society and best for our intervention in Althanian worldly issues. If Fallien falls to the Cult of Mitra, then we will no longer be able to sit back and watch. The cult will be an enemy to our search of knowledge, and Fallien itself might fall off boundaries. Many more will be lost to trying to gain access to Fallien than would be lost to a war with the Cult of Mitra while it isn’t in control. An argument may be put forth that the Jya has enough followers and protectors already, with rumors of even the Phoenix appearing to aid her, but every person for her cause will help. We are the Alchemology Society can heal the injured, comfort the sick, transport the innocent to safety, and most of all, protect the city with our knowledge and gathered power. Wisdom is the strongest of powers, and the Society hoards it without avarice, so dare not say we are too weak to help the Jya and the Fallien people. Please, I beg of you, they need our help.”
Eoin fell back into his chair, trying his best to sit down with ease but every muscle in his body was turning to liquid. He had just shouted, cried, and commanded the judges that he respected so very much. Every fiber of his being was exhausted from the effort of will it took to not break. Timid eyes, with barely a freckle of determination left under the scrutiny of the judges glanced up to the counsel. Shock blasted across his system as he saw that almost every single one was smiling and nodding to his or her neighbor. They were going to do it, they were going to help, and to prove it the chairman stood yet again. With a broad grin on his face, he opened his arms to his judges and received an affirmative nod for each and every one.
“It is a consensus. Paige, please inform the Acolytes in the waiting room that the counsel will not be taking any more requests. We have work to do.”
Losing his control, Eoin leaped out of his seat and yelped his thanks. The judges began laughing, and all of them knew that this might be the last time they had a good laugh. A war was coming, and they had a lot to do. Instantly the Elders spoke amongst themselves, each head of a certain organization, and they began their duty. The letter had foretold that the siege would begin at dawn, so they had but hours.
- - - A while later - - -
Eoin stood, silently, in the Judgment Chamber once more. On top of his usual Acolyte’s attire he wore leather guards. One hand held a quarterstaff; though he had little experience in using it as a weapon it was also useful as a tool. A knife had been added to his belt as well. The chamber itself had changed drastically. Black sheets to dim the room as much as possible covered the long stained glass windows. Its round shape was taken advantage of and a massive circular rune had been drawn on the wooden planks. The chair and judgment bench were removed, though how he was unsure. A one-hundred-candle chandelier hung down from the middle of the room, its chain lengthened so that it nearly touched the floor. Alchemologists, each holding ready a quarterstaff, stood in a circle around the edges of the massive rune. This was the last group to be transported through the Terminal that allowed them to move themselves to any large city in Althanas. Two hundred Alchemologists, each with healing and battle experience were already in Irrakam positioned along the walls and in vital spots. In the center of the gathered circle was the fourteen judges and Elder Alchemologists. Instead of staves, they each had a shepherds crook.
The chairman beckoned to Eoin. Moving forward to greet him, the man smiled and hid the gravity of the situation behind that kind old face. His long gray bear and capped head gave off a grandfatherly impression. Reaching down, the Elder and father figure of Eoin gave him a scroll. On it, it described the use and appropriate application for a Symbol of Healing. Gasping, knowing that healing was only allowed for graduated Acolytes, he glanced back up at the Elder. Placing a finger to his mouth and chuckling, the old man motioned for him to move back into the circle. Burning the rune and its directions into his mind, Eoin stood once more in the ranks, not bothering to add it into his ledger yet.
As soon as he had taken his place, the Elders made a circle themselves and said five simple words, in a language long thought forgotten that only they knew. White light flew around the circle, the runes glowing with a powerful brilliance. A final whisper was heard echoing as loud as a scream through the room, ‘Irrakam!’ Multicolored energy blasted up from the ground, the wood and air singing in the joy of the magic, and they were swept away, leaving only the Paige. Moments later, a brilliant ball of energy appeared in a lower courtyard of the Jya’s mansion. Falling to the ground and exploding outwards in a flash, the elite of the Alchemology society, with Eoin present, stood there. The elders made their way to the Jya to converse with her, whilst the rest made to prepare for battle. Eoin exited out the front door, standing at the back of the forces gathered there. Smiling to himself with gratification that he had made this happen, the boy whispered to nobody in particular.
“The light of Irrakam will not be extinguished!”