From being an Abandoned who had rarely left the Hollowed Grounds, to embracing the call of adventure, to dying and being reborn first as an Ascended and then as an Ancient, Maea has gone through quite the amount of changes in her life. One thing remains common, though, in her attempts to find out just where she belongs; she’s always had a craving for knowledge which has brought her to so many places and to meet so many people here in Caido. We can’t wait to see what else is in store for her!
Congratulations, Maea!
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Court of the Fallen was created in October of 2018 by Odd, Honey, and Crooked.
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Loren had been charged with preparing the manor for LongNight, and he’d thrown himself into that task with an almost single minded focus. It was selfish, in a way, since it allowed him to ignore all the other problems in his life. There were many of those, and they’d left him devoid of energy and emotion for anything but necessary tasks. However, preparing for the worst, and for the people who’d be staying at the manor was necessary, and even good. There was precious little of goodness in the world these days, and Loren had to make up for all the wrongs he’d done. He’d probably spend his whole life trying to make up for it.
Which was why he’d come to the infirmary. Even though the tall warrior woman leader had declared she’d get medical supplies—and even though the tall blonde healer woman had basically picked a fight with said leader woman that had left Loren more than a little reluctant to visit the healer—the Launceleyn knew the manor was still his responsibility. If he could make the warrior woman’s life a little bit easier by picking up the supplies, he would. Besides, he wasn’t sure the healer would give the warrior woman the supplies they needed, not after the display at the meeting.
He just hoped that the healer wasn’t someone he’d hurt or pissed off (or his family had). She hadn’t looked familiar to him, but his memory was fuzzy after his long absence. If she was mad at him, though, he’d take it: it was the least he deserved after putting those he cared about through so much pain. His heartache paled in comparison.
Arriving at the infirmary, he knocked politely and entered. Immediately he was greeted by the sight of a miniature dragon; at that sight, he smiled and got down on one knee. “Hello there.” As a summoner, Loren was always more comfortable around magical beasts than people. “Aren’t you beautiful?” Glancing around as his eyes adjusted to the darkness, Loren tried spot someone in the gloom, but couldn’t see anyone from the entrance. “Do you know if the healer is in, little one?” He stood up and took a few more steps into the room.
Pim was indeed snoozing in the infirmary as he did often as of late. Phoebe had been spending meticulous hours there, removing all the useful items to store and hideaway – she was hording things she liked and he very much approved of that. But someone came in to the clinic, dim in the afternoon light, and the pink dragon lifted his head slowly, double eye lids blinking at the man who dared enter. Pim blinked a few more times, only certain ones standing out as things he understood. His head tilted slightly and he trilled, standing up and stretching slowly, wings flaring out for a good stretch too.
Then the dragonling approached, head high and confident, sniffing at the man. Such a sickly male. Pitiful. These humans really were a mess. But clearly that made him no threat. A weak male was basically useless. So the dragon roared, not loudly, just a short guttural call.
From the back, called by the dragon, came Phoebe. Dressed in layers as she had been the day of the gathering. But the midwife lacked her usual vibrancy. Her face was expressionless, though airing on the side of melancholy, looking tired and if he neared smelling of earth. ”Is there something I can help you with?” she said softly.
Loren, not being an expert in draconology, didn’t really know how to interpret the creature’s actions. Still, seeing as he wasn’t attacked he’d call it a win. When it let out a cry, the librarian gave it a curious look, but whatever questions he might’ve had were soon answered, or at least set aside, when the healer from the meeting appeared. As she had been then, she was dressed in many layers, and there was a quality about her that stirred uneasy instincts in him. His own clothing was still poor and ratty, and he had the cloak he’d taken to wearing everywhere on, though the hood was down.
At her question, the Launceleyn nodded. “I hope so. I’m setting up the manor to host people for LongNight, and I was wondering if you could spare some medical supplies.” His words were polite, if a bit stilted; still, seeing as she had been at the same meeting as him, she probably knew most of that already. Hopefully this would be an easy ask, and Loren would be on his, well, not merry way. But on his way, at least.
The dragon lumbered away from Loren as soon as the midwife appeared, standing sentinel next to her feet, still eyeing the man with a predatory gaze. Phoebe didn’t move as Loren spoke either, nor did her expression change. ”Who are you anyways?” she said bluntly. ”Awfully rude to ask me for things without introducing yourself.” Not that she was being particularly not-rude, but she was the one with the supplies he wanted.
Supplies he would not get.
”I will do nothing to aid the plan of that Ascended wretch. If you want medical supplies, go beg the Fae, though I doubt they will take pity on you.” she said in a clipped tone. She supposed to that end it didn’t matter who this man was. Clearly he was working for Wessex, and so she would not aid him. She was a Steadman after all – remaining steadfast was a familial trait.
Well, that was unexpected. Loren would have expected a healer to have, well, a better bedside manner. Still, she was right, at least about him being rude. He needed to get over his fear of telling people who he was. If they reacted poorly to the news, he’d just have to learn to live with it. “You’re right, I should have introduced myself. I’m sorry.” Taking a deep steadying breath, he clasped his hands behind his back. “I’m Loren Launceleyn.” If she didn’t know his first name, well, he was pretty sure she knew his last. He braced himself for pretty much any reaction.
Then the surprises kept coming. Loren blinked, shocked at the straight up denial. “I’m not doing this on behalf of anyone else. I'm just trying to keep people safe." Seeing as he didn’t know the tall blonde warrior, and seeing as she’d been perfectly reasonable, the summoner definitely wasn’t going to call her an Ascended wench. He didn’t even know if she was Ascended! “But everyone agreed with the plan, including Remi who called the meeting to begin with.” Maybe reminding the healer of that would take the edge off whatever grudge she held against the other woman.
However, when it came down to it, Loren really shouldn't have needed to convince her of anything at all. “Are you really going to put people’s lives at risk by refusing to give me supplies?” The note of confusion and incredulity in his voice might not have been the wisest, but he’d never met a healer who would put patients or people at risk. As someone who’d been trained (albeit barely) in the arts, it was anathema to him.
When he said his name there was a look of recognition in her honeyed gaze. Ohhhhh, so this was the man who had hurt her dear Remi so. He had been hurt when his emotions had been taken but Loren never came to see him. He had been hurt when he lost memory of him and Loren did not come to help him. And now he magically reappeared, trying to be a hero, hm? As if. The last thing she was going to do was play whatever game her friend's ex was at.
"So your the cowardly idiot that hurt my friend Remi, huh." she said, giving him and appraising look in her best mimickry of Frey she could muster. "You really messed that one up, he is more than out of your league, you hardly reside in the same world." she said dryly.
"I'm not putting anyone's life at risk." she snapped. "You clearly don't need them right this second, though a sandwich would do you good." she huffed. Phoebe glanced between him and her stock of supplies, which she had been carefully collecting so as to protect them. "I will not act under order of Wessex. King Ronin is the monarch I recognize. Should he wish me to distribute supplies I will, without the help of a flake like you." she snapped.
Seeing as Loren had already been put through the gauntlet with both Ronin and Remi, the healer’s admonishment barely registered to the summoner. “Yes, I am. And I know, and I agree with you.” He spoke softly, not rising to the bait. After pouring out his emotions to both men and getting his comeuppance, she’d have to do a lot better than that to get a rise out of the Launceleyn. Besides, she couldn’t hardly make him feel worse than the way he treated himself. It was funny, though, how she’d criticized him and then completely failed to introduce herself. "I don't think I caught your name." Honestly, he was impressed he was keeping his temper. Perhaps meeting with the people he was worried most about seeing had restored some semblance of sanity to him.
She was right about Loren not needing the supplies at that exact moment. Still, neither of them had that much time to waste. “You’re right, I don’t need them right now. But Deepfrost is just around the corner, and once it starts snowing transporting them will become much more difficult.” He was being as reasonable as he knew how to be. Besides, it’s not like the medicines would go bad. He ignored the comment about the sandwich. Whether or not it was true (it was true, but he’d gotten good at ignoring his own needs), it hardly seemed relevant, and given her animosity he wouldn’t have accepted even if she was offering. She’d probably poison it or something.
For just a moment, Loren was sorely tempted to just forge a note from Ronin. It would be easy, with his knowledge and his magic: the Launceleyn had used to help the other man with paperwork (the ex-captain had been hopeless), and had memorized the now king’s handwriting. However, he didn’t want to get in trouble with the law, or his once friends, so soon after returning. Besides, he was still willing to try the diplomatic approach. “Fine. I’ll go fetch him, or at least a note from him, if that’s what you need.” Ronin might not be happy with Loren, but the other man wouldn’t punish other people because of that. He'd probably be angry at the healer, if anything. However, the summoner paused, searching the woman's eyes. “But I have to ask, what do you think he’d want you to do in this situation?” The answer was clear to Loren, but Ronin had changed, so it was entirely possible the Launceleyn’s memories were inaccurate.
"Phoebe Steadman." she said, not caring if he knew her name. It wasn't as though there was a lot of anonymity here. The lady at the infirmary was most assuredly her. "Last I heard you were nowhere to be found last Deepfrost. Or in Flowerbirth or Longheat or the beginning of Leafchange. You have no idea the politics and struggles and vile that has happened in a full year. Perhaps instead of worrying about the ease of transport you should focus instead on learning exactly what all you missed." she said, eyes fiery. "Because as concerned as you are about helping people you're following the orders of those who are killing is and the Greatwood." she snipped.
Phoebe continued packing up her supplies, knowing it would take time to get them all to her clinic but she absolutely would. "Fine. Go get him. He will be able to find me at my clinic." she said in a clipped tone. But instead of leaving he asked another question. She turned her fiery gaze on him again. "Oh, look at you, playing the high ground in all your self-righteous ignorance. You noble brats always were all the same. Go educate yourself then maybe you wouldn't have to ask."
08-29-2019, 01:33 PM (This post was last modified: 08-29-2019, 01:51 PM by Loren.)
LOREN
The name was not particularly familiar to him, but Loren nodded and held out his hand for her to shake if Phoebe so chose. He doubted she would, based off their interactions so far, but it was the polite thing to do. ”It’s nice to meet you, Phoebe. I wish it were under better circumstances.” Whether he was referring to her actions or his own he couldn’t say (most likely a combination of both), but it was definitely true. These were not the best of times.
Still, her attacks kept coming, and the Launceleyn remained silent and stalwart. He’d been dealing with criticism all his life, and she was a stranger; she’d have to do a lot better than that to get under his skin. Besides, these were all refrains on admonishments he’d given himself time and time again, so it was just adding one small voice to that chorus. ”You’re right. I wasn’t here, and I don’t know.” Taking a deep breath, he considered her, his eyes sad. ”But I’d like to think I can both worry about the things I can do and the things I don’t know.” He ran a nervous hand through his hair. ”Are there any particular matters you think I should be informed about?” If she was so concerned about his ignorance, maybe she’d actually help alleviate it.
Frowning at Phoebe’s comment about the Greatwood, Loren tried to go over everything he’d learned since coming back to his senses. However no one had especially mentioned something wrong with the forest—well except for Jigano’s comment about some sick trees—that would cause someone such concern. ”Who is killing the Greatwood?” His confusion was genuine and apparent.
Apparently she was going to be difficult about this; Loren stamped down on the spark of annoyance he felt. She’d made some legitimate points (among the many illegitimate ones) and this was her domain, so he’d respect her wishes. ”I’ll go seek him out, then. If he’s not available to come in person, would a note suffice?” Although Loren didn’t know where Phoebe’s clinic was, he could probably get directions, from Ronin or someone else. Somehow, he doubted the king would want to leave his quarters for the misplaced concerns of the healer. The comment about his noble status came out of nowhere: Loren knew all the Launceleyns were nobles, at least once upon a time, but to make that baseless accusation seemed out there, even for the fiery healer. ”I spent five years as a farmer, actually.” He didn’t know why he said that besides the fact that addressing her statement directly seemed like a poor choice. Besides, even before that period he'd hardly had the pampered upbringing of his peers, what with being magically tortured and not being allowed out of the compound for fear he'd embarrass the family.
Phoebe’s eyes just narrowed. ”You hurt my dearest friend deeply, I hardly doubt there would be better circumstances, your request aside.” she snipped at him. This man had abandoned Remi when he needed him most. It was unforgivable, and she would defend him staunchly (whether he wanted her to was another matter entirely of course). As far as what he needed to know about? ”There are a great many things, far too much than what I’ve time to explain to you now. It is a year’s worth of events you are asking after.” she reminded.
But when he asked about the Greatwood she paused and turned to him, hands crossing over her chest. ”Since the barrier fell in Flowerbirth, a blight has been spreading through the Greatwood, and as of late has begun to spread to the Fae, and our own people, the Goddess Safrin, Ronin, and myself are some of the few. I’ve been researching it under the direction of the God Frey for some time and it appears to be a corrupted form of Ascended fluid that attacks the very structure of living, natural creatures and plants. Strangely enough, The Voice has sent her Ascended of traipsing about the Greatwood about the same time that this all started happening. The culprit is fairly clear.” she said, glaring at Loren, lips pursed. ”So imagine my hesitance to give our medical supplies over to one of their creed that is actively killing us.” she snapped.
”A note will absolutely not suffice.” she said sharply. A note could be forged. Forging a person was much more difficult. ”And good for you, five years of humility. I’m sure it was such a travesty for you to get your pretty noble hands dirty.”
Idly, Loren wondered who her best friends were. From the deference she showed to Ronin, he doubted that it was the king, but maybe so. It was more likely that it was Remi, however. ”I know I did, and I know there’s no way to make up for that. But I’m sorry for all the pain I put your friend through.” At least, Loren assumed it was a him: it belatedly occurred to him that Phoebe might’ve been talking about Edy or Zariah or even Beatrix. Still, despite the fact that they were family, the two men were the ones at the front of the summoner’s mind.
As she insisted that she didn’t have time to educate him, Loren decided to switch up tactics again. ”Well, maybe I can help you with whatever you are working on, and you can tell me a little bit about what's being going on along the way.” It made sense to him, and if she was as stressed and as angry as she seemed, maybe she could use an extra pair of hands. Somehow, though, he figured her reluctance had less to do with being busy and more to do with her dislike of the Launceleyn and her personal hang ups.
Silently he listened to the full explanation of what was going on with the blight. He’d gotten snippets of it here and there, but having it laid out in full was another thing entirely. When she finished, he breathed out, sympathy etched on his features. ”I’m sorry. I didn’t know. And I’m sorry to hear that you’re sick. You probably don’t want it, but if there’s anything I can do to help, please let me know.” It was understandable, now, why she might be reluctant to give over supplies to those she viewed as enemies. ”But I’m not an Ascended and I’m doing this for Remi more than her.” In his mind, it seemed that the Voice was the culprit, and the Ascended were unwitting pawns. Of course, that was assuming he trusted the blonde’s judgment (which he didn’t) and assuming that the correlation implied causation (which he also knew to be false). Indeed, there were lots of holes he could poke in her supposition.
However, he’d heard fervor before, and knew that he, of all people, wouldn’t be able to get through to her. Especially as she continued to cast aspersions against him and insist that he bother Ronin with this, when the king had much more important matters to spend his time on. ”I’ll have him come see you.” But if the other man was pissed, well, that was on her; there was a lot of blame to be laid at Loren’s feet, but even he wouldn’t take responsibility for this.
He gazed down at those hands she mentioned, which were calloused. The left one held thin scars from all the times he’d sliced it to power his magic. Still, it was nothing compared to the rest of his body. ”Not really. I enjoyed it, actually.” Then, without allowing him to think too hard about what he was doing, he stripped off his shirt, exposing the mass of scars that was his skin and the ribs that stuck out much too far. It made a much more powerful statement that she had no idea what he’d been through than anything he could say.
Phoebe sighed, clearly irritated and near her wits end. This man was absolutely relentless. ”I am packing up all of the medical supplies and taking them to my clinic where I can keep a closer eye on them. I don’t want them falling into the wrong hands with Deepfrost so close.” she said with a huff, continuing her work since he clearly wasn’t going to leave any time soon. As far as the who had the wrong hands? The Ascended. Like Wessex, clearly. They were just as likely to taint the medical supplies as anything else.
”I am not sick, I am dying, just like everyone else with the blight. she said tersely, carefully organizing the various bottles of medicines into a trunk. ”And I highly doubt there is anything you can do. I’ve been studying this for months to no avail. Even the gods can’t figure it out fully. The only one who knows is the Voice, and she only cares about her Ascended who think themselves not at fault I am sure. At any rate they are more interested in preserving their supposed innocence than trying to help save the forest or the people.” Hence her accusations towards Wessex at the meeting. She had lost trust in them through her research, through realizing just how similar the blight was to Ascended fluid, to too many things being “coincidental” for it to actually be coincidence.
Looks like a fish, smells like a fish, probably a fish.
But then for whatever reason, he took off his shirt. She paused, blinking at him. A scared form was not unusual to her – no one who lived through a war was unaccustomed to it so she thought nothing of it frankly. ”Why are you disrobing?” she huffed at him. ”Is this your way of saying you need a sandwich because the answer is clearly.”
Phoebe might be irritated, but Loren wasn’t going to be deterred. If he left every time he annoyed someone, there’d be no for him to be around before too long. Besides, being the stubborn sort himself he recognized it in others. So he stayed near the entrance of the infirmary, making no move quite yet. ”I’ve got two hands and can help you carry those supplies to your clinic.” Of course, that was assuming the healer didn’t declare Loren to have wrong hands too.
At the correction that this wasn’t some common illness, Loren rubbed his right arm, a nervous and guilty gesture. She was right, but the Launceleyn didn’t think he should say anything. Still, even if it was unwise, he wasn’t going to remain silent. ”You’re right. I’m sorry.” He should’ve been more conscious of his word choice. As she went on about her research and her accusations against the Ascended, he stayed quiet, letting her finish before responding. ”Again, feel free to tell me to piss off, but I’d be willing to assist you with your studies. Worst case, again, I have two hands to hold tools and take notes.” His skills in research didn’t extend to medicine and biology, but an assistant was always better to have.
Pausing for a long while, he considered whether bringing up the Ascended was likely to do any good, or just send her into a deeper rage. However, he decided it was worth the risk. ”I agree, it looks bad, and it certainly sounds like the Voice has a lot to answer for but...have you spoken to the Ascended about this?” Phoebe sounded like she had a lot of theories, but by her own admission her research and the wisdom of the gods had turned up nothing concrete. And the one Ascended Loren had encountered recently, Rexanna, hadn't seemed like the sort to consciously spread something like the blight.
He blinked at her question and comment about the sandwich: most people were a little more taken aback, even healers who saw wounds routinely. ”Uh...no.” Considering her total lack of reaction, Loren didn’t really know how to proceed, so he just ran a hand through his hair and went to put his shirt back on, a sheepish expression on his face.
It would be helpful to have someone help her carry the boxes she supposed. Her lips pursed for a moment, considering him. "Fine. Help me carry them to my clinic. But if you try to make off with anything, Pim will come after you." she warned. As if to corroborate, the dragonling roared loudly, a guttural, clear sound of warning. Pink and cute as he might be, he was a scary Pim.
"My studies are at a stand still." she said with a huff, securing a trunk closed. "I am missing a connection and the only way to find it is to go into the Spire. But even when I was healthy I'm not exactly fit for the sort of conditions in there." she grumbled, glaring at her trembling hands. She was no fighter, and based on what she heard of the Spire, it was dangerous for even those with that inclination.
She scoffed and rolled her eyes. "To the one Ascended I know well, yes. She was less than helpful. They all staunchly believe it can't be them but it can't not be them - whether it was willing or not. Logic is not in their favor." she grumbled, eyes narrowing in a glare.
Said glare was turned on him as he failed to come up with a satisfying reason for why he took his shirt off. So she just rolled her eyes and shook her head. Men were ridiculous.
