28th of Cylus, 718th Arc
Early evening
Doran's House, Andaris
The whole Oakleigh company had moved to Andaris this time. After the events of past seasons and the mage burning and VII attacks earlier this season, Sin wasn't going to take any chances. Full mobilization. Sin wasn't sure yet whether Tristan had come to Andaris because he was planning on attending the VII discussions or because he was trying to meet once more with a certain lady. Either way, Sin had left Iemes in charge on the Tristan front while he was running his own errands. Between the five members of his company and the Duke's own guards, Sin was sure the man was probably the safest person in the city at the moment. He pulled his focus from his charge and to the room around him. It was respectable but the newness, the recentness of the move into the new house was clear to the young Yludih.
He'd simply walked up to the door and knocked. A servant had opened and, using Tristan's name once more, Sin had been given entry into a waiting room of some sort. Comfortable chairs were placed in the room so people could sit and relax while they waited for the ambassador to make the time to see them. Apparently, the ambassador was a busy man with a busy schedule. He had been meeting with various nobles on the island since his arrival, making connections with all of them, Sin assumed. He had known the man long enough to know how he'd make sure he had a good, if not the perfect, angle or bait to get them to support him, one by one.
Sin turned his head away from the generic landscape painting that hung on the wall as the door to the room opened once more. The same servant who had received him stepped back in and nodded. It was the 'the-master-has-deemed-you-worthy-so-follow-me' nod that servants who worked closer to the crown used. Sin got up from his chair and began walking after the man before stopping and turning back. He'd almost forgotten the empty rolled up scroll he had used as an excuse to get in. It was only natural that the Duke of Oakleigh would send his trusted right hand man with a message for the Ambassador of Etzos. Sin grabbed the scroll and followed the servant. The rest of the house seemed equally without a personal touch as he followed the man. It wasn't far from where he'd been waiting, this wasn't a noble residence after all, and they soon stopped in front of a door.
The servant knocked twice and then opened the door, inviting Sin to enter. He nodded to the servant, thanking him silently for his work and then stepped through the door into the next room. Sin couldn't tell what the other person in the room was doing but there was no room for mistakes. The shorter brown hair, the perfectly trimmed beard on the perfect jawline, the build of an experienced fighter and, while invisible, the steel vault-like mind of a scholar to boot. His hands without a single blemish even though they'd been coated in more ink in the arcs he'd known him than Sin had in his entire life. Piercing blue eyes, cold as ice, staring right into Sin's weakened asterism, judging him, finding him lacking and at the same time promising him that he could be better, much better, if he simply listened and did exactly what the deep and authoritative voice would say next.
It was as if Doran had stepped out of Sin's memory and into reality, right in front of him. "Eight arcs and you still look exactly the same as the last time I saw you, Doran."
Early evening
Doran's House, Andaris
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nce he had heard the name of the ambassador from Etzos, it hadn't taken Sin long to confirm his suspicions. A few well placed questions and some random rumors picked up from the taverns closest to the ambassadors residence in combination with a healthy dose of guesswork on Sin's end had brought on the result he'd hoped for. Sin was in Andaris for the upcoming meeting about the VII problem that was plaguing the kingdom now and had asked around, using some of Tristan's influence and his name to get where he wanted to go. The house was a far cry from the rooms he used to live in and Sin had to admit that he'd been a little disappointed at first, seeing his old mentor flaunting his wealth like this.The whole Oakleigh company had moved to Andaris this time. After the events of past seasons and the mage burning and VII attacks earlier this season, Sin wasn't going to take any chances. Full mobilization. Sin wasn't sure yet whether Tristan had come to Andaris because he was planning on attending the VII discussions or because he was trying to meet once more with a certain lady. Either way, Sin had left Iemes in charge on the Tristan front while he was running his own errands. Between the five members of his company and the Duke's own guards, Sin was sure the man was probably the safest person in the city at the moment. He pulled his focus from his charge and to the room around him. It was respectable but the newness, the recentness of the move into the new house was clear to the young Yludih.
He'd simply walked up to the door and knocked. A servant had opened and, using Tristan's name once more, Sin had been given entry into a waiting room of some sort. Comfortable chairs were placed in the room so people could sit and relax while they waited for the ambassador to make the time to see them. Apparently, the ambassador was a busy man with a busy schedule. He had been meeting with various nobles on the island since his arrival, making connections with all of them, Sin assumed. He had known the man long enough to know how he'd make sure he had a good, if not the perfect, angle or bait to get them to support him, one by one.
Sin turned his head away from the generic landscape painting that hung on the wall as the door to the room opened once more. The same servant who had received him stepped back in and nodded. It was the 'the-master-has-deemed-you-worthy-so-follow-me' nod that servants who worked closer to the crown used. Sin got up from his chair and began walking after the man before stopping and turning back. He'd almost forgotten the empty rolled up scroll he had used as an excuse to get in. It was only natural that the Duke of Oakleigh would send his trusted right hand man with a message for the Ambassador of Etzos. Sin grabbed the scroll and followed the servant. The rest of the house seemed equally without a personal touch as he followed the man. It wasn't far from where he'd been waiting, this wasn't a noble residence after all, and they soon stopped in front of a door.
The servant knocked twice and then opened the door, inviting Sin to enter. He nodded to the servant, thanking him silently for his work and then stepped through the door into the next room. Sin couldn't tell what the other person in the room was doing but there was no room for mistakes. The shorter brown hair, the perfectly trimmed beard on the perfect jawline, the build of an experienced fighter and, while invisible, the steel vault-like mind of a scholar to boot. His hands without a single blemish even though they'd been coated in more ink in the arcs he'd known him than Sin had in his entire life. Piercing blue eyes, cold as ice, staring right into Sin's weakened asterism, judging him, finding him lacking and at the same time promising him that he could be better, much better, if he simply listened and did exactly what the deep and authoritative voice would say next.
It was as if Doran had stepped out of Sin's memory and into reality, right in front of him. "Eight arcs and you still look exactly the same as the last time I saw you, Doran."