• Mature • [The Glass Temple] One Nel, Two Sides

[Woe]

Late Afternoon, 30th of Ashan 721

Idly, as he wandered into the Glass Temple, Woe wondered what his patron thought of the Glass Temple, a place so thoroughly constructed from the elemental makeup of his domain. He almost wondered if there was a reason they'd chosen glass as a material to venerate the Immortals here. Was it Scalvoris' obvious penchant for unique glasswork, or was it some deeper and occult connection to the Immortal of Neutrality? Scalvoris, by all reports, had been a pirate haven once. Pirates, while they have been known to take sides in conflicts, their loyalties are as fleeting and shifting as the tides. In the end, they all served themselves above all. Just like the Onyx Word. Woe could respect such a pragmatic approach to life. If people could be relied upon to only do what was best for them, to live in isolation from partisanship, indifferent to each other, there would be no need for war. Boundless commerce would sustain those who adhered to the rule of Neutrality.

The search for some sort of peace and quiet had eluded Woe for some time. And inch by inch, he was getting closer to the conclusion that Peace was incompatible with the inborn nature, drives, and instincts of humanity. While the Immortals had more or less coexisted, for reasons that Woe presumed related to their mutual power, humanity had no such assurance of mutual destruction.

Mortals were short-sighted as they were short-lived. And though Woe had only lived for 34 arcs, he allowed himself to indulge in the conceit that he had all the time in the world, so long as he moved carefully, slowly, and with calculation and discretion. There was no rush to any form of action as yet. And though the world churned like a violent storm at times, he could weather it, with the blessing of his Patron.

He entered the Temple dressed in fairly plain but well-crafted clothing. Pants and shirt of charcoal gray, a longcoat of brown leather, footwraps which exposed parts of his feet as he limped along, his left hand resting on a cane. Around his neck he wore a tie of green silk. His only concession to fashion at this time. And sometimes needed as the weather was still fairly brisk at this stage of Ashan.

As Stan gave him directions to the shrine of Chamadarst, he nodded, and slipped silently through the cloisters, until he came upon the correct cell. Entering, he beheld the statue of glass that depicted the Onyx Word. It was certainly how Woe had remembered Chamadarst, both hands palm upward, as if ready to balance the weight of nels in either. His face a mask of calm, reassured indifference. Woe smirked to remember that he'd made that man, the very vision of indifference, laugh at his audacity. He'd offered the Coin King a job. A job, on a farm in Ne'haer. Woe could only imagine what the stiffs in the Tower of Glass would think to hear that, or the Temple in Nashaki.

At any rate, as he hobbled to a stop at the base of the statue, he removed an onyx nel from his pocket. Here, he paused, contemplating on the gesture he was about to undertake. Would Chamadarst think less of him for wasting a perfectly good piece of onyx? Would he revel in the glass touch, being applied to such a sacred material? Woe didn't wait for an answer, he wanted to try it. And with this prayer, he did so:

"Chamadarst, if there is a way to purchase peace, I would give every onyx nel I have to do so. I would sequester myself for all eternity, confined to gray neutrality, if that would only forestall the folly of mortals." Woe sighed, as he held the onyx nel in his bare hand. Then, he willed it to take on the frailty of glass, and laid it upon the Coin King's altar, to leave it there. "As it stands, I'll leave you with this. Should it prove worth your while to evade a conflict in Scalvoris, my offer stands. Every nel I make from this moment onward, would be yours."

So saying, Woe bowed his head, deep in thought as he stood before the likeness of his Patron. He didn't expect an answer from Old Gray.

[Elisabeth Black]

Arc 721, 30 Ashan

Her brief visit to Scalvoris Town was packed with errands she needed to do. Research at Scholar’s Nook. A bit of shopping and off to Perdita’s to pick up Storm. Elisabeth had indeed tried to cram everything into one trial so she could get back to Faldrass as quickly as possible…but that didn’t mean she couldn’t do a bit of sightseeing along the way.

The Glass Temple was a place she had wanted to visit back in Cylus, but the arrests and detainment had interfered with further thoughts of exploring her new hometown. Now relocated to Faldrass, opportunities to see some of the places the young woman had read about or heard of were infrequent. She had some time, and the Temple wasn’t far out of her way.

Truthfully, she hadn’t expected to be visiting a place of worship. Her own track record with Immortals was thin at best. Saoire was the only Immortal she had met, finding her lovely. Xiur, Ziell, and Qylios had all been at the Mummer’s Ball, but she hadn’t spoken to any of them. She did talk to Xiur and Ziell from time to time, but they were always one-sided conversations. Ohhhh…and she had spoken some rather intense words to Vri, but again, one-sided. Wrapped within those experiences though was the desire to learn and understand…and more than anything, it was that need that brought her to Temple.

When she thought about Immortals and what they meant to her, confusion reigned supreme. The young mage didn’t know enough about the nature of Immortals to form any strong opinions about their existence. She certainly wanted to know more about them but opportunities to study such things were few and far between.

Luckily, most of her clothing was still at Balthazar’s house. Elisabeth had stopped in to change, opting for a plain dress in deep sapphire. It wouldn’t do to visit a place of worship in travel-worn clothing and Elisabeth refused to be disrespectful. Leaving what she could there, she swiftly made her way through the maze of Scalvoris Town, finding her way to the location.

Stepping inside, she found a cheery Tunawa who invited her to look around to her heart’s content. She had no specific questions for him, simply wanting to admire the beauty of the place. He expressed to her that the Temple was rather quiet that trial – perfect for her purposes of exploring and learning. Thanking him with a smile, she slowly made her way through the main foyer.

Stan, the Tunawa, had explained that each Immortal had small shrines off to the sides of the main area, which made sense to her. The young woman felt odd poking her head into the alcoves, not wishing to disrupt anyone who might need a moment alone with their Immortal of choice.

Cerulean eyes took in everything about the Temple. It was quiet, just as Stan had predicted. Very few people were mulling about that trial and as such, she was able to see a few different empty shrines.

It wasn’t until she came across Vri’s that she felt the need to stop. Sighing softly, she noted that it too was empty. Stepping inside, Elisabeth quickly considered what she wanted to say. Kneeling, she placed a slender hand on the alter and thought about happiness shared with Balthazar since arriving on Faldrass. The night by the bonfire. The poem he had written her, and Memento left. And finally, she thought about how much she missed and loved him. It was that thought that brought her to say something. It was short and sweet, but heartfelt and sincere. “Thank you.” Words would fail her if forced to explain everything she was thanking him for, but thankfully, Elisabeth didn’t feel the need to clarify.

But it wasn't just that relationship that she was thankful for. There were so many others that had meaning to the young woman. So many people had helped shape and mold her thoughts, opinions, and being. Each person met and known became a part of her, whether they realized it or not...and she was thankful for all of them. All the relationships ever gifted to her were a blessing, and she knew it.

Rising, she moved out of the shrine, back into the main room. Finding a bench nearby, the young mage decided to sit for a moment and consider the nature of the Temple. Once sitting, she noted a form within the shrine next to Vri’s. She didn’t recognize the name of the Immortal, Chamadarst, but then again, there really were a lot of them. Her gaze drifted off a bit as she sat, but quickly enough she came back to, drawing out her notebook and writing the name within so she would remember to look it up or ask at a later point.

[Pegasus]

"Forestalling the folly of mortals," said the cool voice of the man at his side, "is an undertaking so great that it would cost more than every nel on Idalos.". The man was dressed in good clothes - but not ostentatious ones. Long black hair was tied neatly back and eyes as dark as the depths of the Beneath gazed on Woe with an unsurprisingly disinterested expression. "Such a massive task is hardly fair trade for a measly coin,"

Was it a flicker of a smile which danced at the corner of the eyes of the Immortal of Glass? If it was, it was gone as quickly as the thought of it formed.

Holding his hand upward, the onyx nel which Woe had left on the statue was in his hand and, as Chamadarst spoke, the coin flickered over his knuckles, dancing and glinting in the light. "However, your request is possibly more interesting," he admitted. "But any negotiation, any commerce, any deal must have clear boundaries, must it not?" The nel danced and then disappeared as the glass in the Glass Temple refracted and danced creating beautiful patterns of colour all around.

In the small shrine where Woe stood with his patron Immortal, though, all was quiet and unremarkable. Chamadarst - Immortal of Isolation - wanted no interruptions.

"You have told me what you will pay," he said. It was quite an unusual way around to do things, but Chamadarst was unconcerned with that. It gave him the advantage in the commerce - a position he enjoyed. "Explain the outcome you wish." There was no fondness, no emotion - and certainly no promise - in his words. "And I will tell you what is available to you for the sum you offer,"

[Woe]

Of course, the mortal born had been open to the possibility that his Patron might heed his offer. Yet he hadn’t expected, after two arcs worth of silence, almost, that he would then arrive to hold court with his favored servant. Yet Woe wasn’t one to stand on ceremony. At least not when it came to the Coinking. His mother… was an entirely different matter, but his upbringing under the auspices of one of the worst Webspinners to have his tongue marked, was hard to shake. Yet it was an attitude he’d carefully cultivated since acquiring their marks. Both Immortals were of a pragmatic bent, not inclined toward theatrics or cheap chicanery. When they were there to make a deal, it meant just that.

Still, he was here, alone, with his Patron. It was proper that they be secluded in order to conduct their affairs.

Woe gave thought to his initial request. It was indeed a great ask, one he couldn’t reasonably afford, and nebulous in its implementation. Woe didn’t want to wipe out mortalkind, far from it. He only wanted to cure their insatiable desire for conflict and inclination to passion. Even that, however, he knew was well beyond his means. He had to assume a more targeted, nuanced approach.

He didn’t think that Chamadarst would over-correct for Woe on whatever he wished. He was not a trickster, like Mastes, nor was he unreliable and capricious like Aelig. And he cared not for avarice or attachment to treasure, such as Delroth. He was all about the deal that could be made, the exchange of commerce, of this for that. Nels were only happenstance to that end.

Woe would lay out what he wanted, and Chamadarst would offer what the mortal born could afford. The man had already hamstrung his position, by offering a fixed amount, however uncertain his future may be. To give every nel he earned from now until only Ralaith knew… Still, it was worth it. Had he not been so eager to throw his life away on the snowfields of Viden just a season prior?

”What I want, is for anyone not taking up arms against each other, anyone not taking sides in this and any future conflict in Scalvoris, to be spared from the harms that arrive from war, and to go unnoticed and unmolested by those bearing arms. Let those who carry a weapon with intent to use it suffer whatever violence that occurs to them. But spare the incidental masses who are mere bystanders.” Woe breathed out, as he said it, having winded himself in the conception of the proposition. ”Is this something you will do, for the price I offered?”

[Pegasus]

Listening to Woe's request, Chamadarst shook his head. "Any future conflict" he said, "is too broad a term of sale. I can not guarantee the safety of every child in every burning building caused by a drunken argument between parents from now until eternity.". He regarded Woe with a cool gaze, not angry or happy, not anything at all. Neutral. Unconcerned. "To go unnoticed, for how long? What of a healer with a sword? No, it is too broad."

Chamadarst looked at Woe and considered it. "It seems to me clear what you wish, but that clarity needs to be mutual." he said. Gesturing for Woe to sit at the bench in this small shrine, he would follow suit. "You wish for an end to the conflict, with victory to your chosen side?" That was the first question, and it was an important one. On that question, much else would stand or fall.

"What becomes important to that negotiation," he explained, "is the nature of this. Consider. Do you wish your enemy and those who reside with him currently to be placed in Isolation never-ending?" He didn't seem aware of how chilling his words might sound. Or, he genuinely didn't care. "Or are you concerned with the consequences of that? The situation you seek to redress involves many mortals currently far beneath the ground in a prison, for example. Are they relevant?" If they were not, then it was dealing only with a smaller number of mortals, it seemed.

"Or is it the protection of you and yours? If so, speak to me their names and I will tell you my price for a guarantee of safety." Such did not sound like it came lightly. Or cheaply. "If such is your whim, I can Isolate them until it is done." Gesturing to the shrine to him, Chamadarst spoke with crystal clarity. "Let us not engage in the paltry game of judgements, or considerations of whether a poisoner or spy is a combatant or not," he said. "We are beyond such minutiae. If taking up arms is truly the only criteria to this, then is a mage a combatant?" He smiled slightly at Woe, as though he was teaching a promising pupil.

"Step by step, let us consider this." he said. "What people, what places, do you want protected? What people, what places, do you want out of the picture and what are your criteria for both?"

[Woe]

If the idea of Isolation never-ending was meant to chill the heart, Chamadarst would find his favored pupil undisturbed. He’d worked in Andaris dungeons for much of his adult life. He knew what it meant to jail others and worse than that, to see them abused, exploited, tortured even. If he wasn’t numb to it by the time he’d left Andaris, he certainly had by now, when his will had long since grown strong.

And yet, the idea that he could throw his worst enemies into a cell to be forgotten until the end of days, and to throw away the key was intriguing. That such power was available to him now [iu]was[/i] sobering. Would he wish it on even his worst enemy?

They came to the matter of people that Woe might wish to protect, and Woe had to stifle a a cough. The Mortalborn had no love left to give to anyone, the wretched state of his tangle had rendered him incapable. And further compounded by his dealing in the slave trade earlier in life, he had come to see people not as people, but more possessions and assests. Things to be possessed or used, sometimes both. Even the children he’d taken in after Werthom, had they not been mere tools to fit in better in society? To make himself seem less threatening?

Every person had a purpose to Woe, and a function. So to what end would he sacrifice for them? Even this parlay for eternal peace was merely conceit to pave his own way. He thought he needed peace, he even thought he wanted it.

However, did Woe really? Time after time he’d hurled himself into conflict, positioning himself to benefit from the aftermath, and he’d done well toward that end. Becoming someone of note in Quacia before it’d grown quiet, rebuilding in obscurity.

Did Woe, in fact, crave the profits and turnaround of conflict?

What was important to him? And what did he want to gain out of this whole game? "I've had a change of mind."

”Make me the Warden. All that is his will be mine. Cast down the old to be forgotten in isolation. I will be the jailer of those lying in isolation in Slag’s Deep.” Woe said. ”Those are my only terms.”

[Pegasus]

Mortals, Chamadarst considered, were such disappointing creatures. Notions of individuality superseded the bigger picture. Dreams of power and glory blinded them. And, as so many had before, Woe proved the same thing. For a moment, he had been promising. He had considered the larger context, the long-term. But now, he reverted to - as they usually did - the quest for individual power. He steepled his fingers, one against the other, and he spoke in a quiet voice, neutrality emanating from his dispassionate cadence. "What function will that serve?" he asked. "Do you truly believe you are at war against a man? That it is so simple as to replace one despot with another?". Calmy, he gazed upon Woe with a cool assessment. "If that were so, would I be concerned or take my time to come here?"

Chamadarst gestured out into the area where Elisabeth sat. Woe could see her, then, but it was as though she was reflected in a mirror. To Elisabeth, she could see and hear everything, but she could not intrude on the conversation. Isolated from taking part, she was a fully informed observer. "That woman. You have met her in dreams, yes?" he waited for Woe's reply. "The Warden is a position. An individual in charge of a prison," He frowned, as though considering his words even more carefully than normal. "He is a man. An ancient man. A powerful one. But whoever is Warden is in charge of a place." he sounded - briefly - like he'd experienced some emotion, but it was gone as quickly as it came and Woe might have missed it, "If you became Warden, you would be consumed by the place. By what lies beneath it. I would not do that to my servant." It would not be profitable, after all. "If that woman became Warden, it would consume her within moments. Her soul would be beyond the reach of Cierel's daughter, or Brel'tek's three. She would be obliterated into an eternity of agony in the space of a moment." He turned his gaze entirely on Woe then.

"Would you have her become Warden?" He asked in a serious tone, his eyes boring into Woe. "If I agreed, would you have me make her Warden, so that the person holding the role is not as powerful as the one who is now?" Chamadarst spoke with crystal clarity. "Because this war of yours will happen against whoever holds the role, because they become of that place. It will consume them," he said. "So would you put her there?" He gestured to Elisabeth.

"Would you replace the creature that is with a new one to make your job easier?" he asked. "Or do we return to the idea of protection?" Somehow, without seeming to be anything other than cool and polite, it was clear that time was running out for this audience.

[Woe]

Woe turned his eyes to the person outside the cloister they occupied. It was Elisabeth, that person he’d met once or twice in a dream, and now was here. Chamadarst spoke of Cierel’s daughter, and Brel’tek’s three. Woe didn’t know of which daughter he spoke, but he could probably guess. He knew of his own mother Sintra, and Audrae from his time in Augiery. There were others, presumably, but he didn’t know them well. He had of course heard of Famula and knew her, given the recent war.

But of Brel’tek’s three? Who was Brel’tek?

The way he spoke of it sounded like obliteration. Elisabeth would be no more, or possibly consumed and overtaken by the position now held by the Warden. Woe thought of it, replacing that ancient and powerful man that he stood against, with a stripling lass with a sword. She was strong and had potential, yet that was what she was at present. Just a woman with a sword, eyes to see things, and enough brain to figure her way to making people open up. In another time, Woe might’ve considered taking her on as an apprentice, if he hadn’t so thoroughly discredited his own ability to teach, by losing not one, not two, but three students. First Emilia, then Vito, now Hart. Perhaps teaching wasn’t in his future, come whatever may.

It was an enticing proposition. Replacing a strong enemy with a weaker one. But then, what did Chamadarst talk about, of something beneath Slag’s Deep? Did he need to concern himself with that? Was the Warden keeping something at bay, was he the lesser of evils in this equation? Was the Albarech the one who needed to be overthrown?

Woe struggled with these questions, and of course, he knew so little, but he had to act on what he could know, and do what he would.

Chamadarst was running out of patience. Woe again pushed his luck with his patron, for the third time. He doubted there would be a fourth. And he could see that Chamadarst was treating the idea of returning to a previous stage in the negotiation as unfavorable. If he hedged now, he would fall into the trap once more of letting a pretty face forestall him from acting according to his usual nature. He would not go there again, he'd promised himself. He'd disappointed Sintra once in such way. Would he now do the same with Chamadarst? No. Woe had already taken too much time.

Woe felt a fool for falling into the trap of self-indulgence, for a moment seeing himself as someone potentially glorious or powerful. In the end, he was but a pilgrim, drifting from one war-torn state to the next. Like a carrion bird, and not for the first time, it seemed his lot in life to pick up what larger men leave behind. He didn’t mind, he was resigned to it.

”I appreciate the object lesson.” Woe smiled slightly, ”I agree, and think she would make a far less threatening Warden.” He said clearly, probably loud enough for Elisa to hear. ”Replace the Warden with Elisabeth.”

[Elisabeth Black]

Arc 721, 30 Ashan

Elisabeth’s thoughts were interrupted by voices. Looking up, she couldn’t figure out where they were coming from.

It seemed, however, that they were speaking about her.

She listened, carefully, as things played out before her. There was only one person she could think of, having met him in dreams previous. They had spoken of many things…but what the other man was telling him then, terrified her to the core.

“If that woman became Warden, it would consume her within moments. Her soul would be beyond the reach of Cierel's daughter, or Brel'tek's three. She would be obliterated into an eternity of agony in the space of a moment. Would you have her become Warden? If I agreed, would you have me make her Warden, so that the person holding the role is not as powerful as the one who is now?

It took her only trills to put the puzzle pieces together, and terror reached her eyes as she realized what it meant.

Elisabeth had been frightened many times. Scared. Afraid. Panicked. Thinking back to the recent time when she had been held after Almund, many of those feelings had surfaced…but utter terror took her now. There was only so far discipline could go and faced with a decision, apparently out of her hands, that would result in what was being described? And why was Woe begin given that choice?

Unable to stop them, tears streaked down her face, her fingers automatically going to the ring Balthazar had given her. She didn’t fully understand the situation behind what was going on but the choice the man had to make seemed clear.

Yet…as much as she wanted to scream and rage at being helpless, a thought kicked in. Maybe she wasn’t…

Looking down at her notebook, she remembered the letter she had written on the paper left for her in her tent in Haven. The letter she had written to Woe, not knowing who he was. She had needed someone to write things to and he had seemed like a logical choice. Grabbing it from the back of her notebook, she opened it up and read it out loud. She could hear them - maybe they could hear her.

“Hello again. I’m sure you don’t remember me…but I remember you. We met in a dream some time ago and I find myself needing someone to talk to. I remember you telling me that my opinions had worth. I’ve not been told that very much…so I remembered.

Life has been a bit upside down, but I’m settled now, thankfully. I’m hoping for a bit of peace. A lot has happened in the past season and I’m only now able to stop and try to reconcile it all.

Some decisions I’ve made, I feel so certain of. Others are a bit more slippery. Life is strange that way. I experienced a different part of humanity in the last season – something I’m not sure I like. Parts of it are dark but wrapped within those are still pieces I understand and comprehend. Part of me wants to simply accept and not question…but a greater part of me wants to fight and demand answers. It’s an odd balance sometimes.

Like I said before, I remember your comment to me about ‘worth’. I often question my own. It’s been something I’ve struggled with for a while really. Even before you. I grew up in a place that shielded me from the harshness of life, and I was happy there in that oblivion. I thought I would be there forever. Once I broke free, however, and realized the imperfect perfection of life. Of what I had been hiding from – friends, relationships, connections – I did what I could to learn. I found people I care about. It’s been a slow process, but I’m learning.

But I still struggle with my own worth and helping people. I try but so often I seem to fail, or people don’t want my help. It’s especially hard with people I care about. I suppose it’s part of the package when you care about people that are used to taking care of themselves. I’ve learned that it doesn’t mean it’s any easier to process or accept though.

I remember something else you said…about the “realm we walk through, may possibly be the source of magic itself”. I don’t know who you are. Possibly a figment of my imagination to be honest with myself but I want to thank you for what you did for me then…and now. Maybe if that realm is magic, sometrial, these words of gratitude will find their way to you. If you are part of my mind, I think I would rather keep believing you aren’t. I’d like to think you are out there someplace and sometrial, I’ll get to talk to you again. Isn’t that odd?”

She had written that letter to him, not knowing who he was. Reaching out…and now he held her life in his hands.

Closing her eyes, she let the letter drop to the notebook.

“I love you, Balthazar. I love you…”

[Pegasus]

Chamadarst was silent, for a moment. In the glass-like image in front of Woe, the image of Elisabeth showed what happened, what the woman said. Her many words stood in stark contrast to Woe's few. She read out a letter and promised love to another. The Immortal waved a hand, dismissing her image from Woe's sight almost as soon as she began. In the temple, Elisabeth saw no more into the shrine, heard no more words. Chamadarst dismissed the image and, it seemed, dismissed the idea as easily. "It is good that you are clear on your path. Your priorities must remain. Maintain your focus on the bigger picture and do not become clouded by individual gain." he stated. They would all need to be clear in the trials ahead. "I will not involve myself so directly,". Even if he could, he would not intervene so directly as to swap one individual with another. It had been a good lesson, though. He gave a slight glance out to the central area of the temple. "The same can not be said for my siblings, it seems."

Chamadarst gestured out into the area where Elisabeth sat, although he seemed not to be gesturing to her. "It is important to me that Egilrun is not destroyed. Protect it well and I will reward you appropriately." This time, he didn't wait for any decision. He was interested in actions. "And so, I will show you what you need to know. You, and my brother's envoy of peace. Do with that information what you will." He was not making a deal, he was not negotiating. He had stated his terms, now, and told Woe what the outcome would be. Further interference was simply not necessary.

"There is a girl." he said, "And she is afraid." And there, in the glass in front of Woe, in the windows of the Temple itself, played out a story. The story was lots of pieces - lots of them, but like a stained glass window, all the pieces fell together to make a picture. As the story played out, Woe saw it clearly.

For Elisabeth - and the small Cadouri who had been told to be here at this time on this trial - they saw shapes and movements in the glass of the temple windows. To Bao, each one looked like glass snowflakes, and each image made sense - they were a series of events that both Bao and Woe saw clearly. For Elisabeth, who was there without a patron Immortal, they were rather like the visions that she had been having. Flashes, moments. Not the cohesive whole that Bao and Woe saw, but flashes and snippets nonetheless.

And then, with the sound of breaking glass shattering around them (although nothing broke), the three of them were standing, together, in the Glass Temple. There was no sign of any Immortal. Just Woe, Elisabeth, and Bao.

Off Topic

ooc: Chamadarst has shown Woe (and by extension, Ziell has shown Bao) all of the following:
1. The story given in the exposition (not the links just the words in there).
2. The story given in the second exposition
3. The events of the Immortals-driven plots I've been doing this week. This will show all of them (even ones not yet completed):-
Sign of Five - Oram and Vhalar.
Once Upon a Time - Elisabeth and U'frek
Rising Stars - Doran and Xiur
A Dark & Stormless Night - Darius and Cassion
Bloody Resemblance - Yeva and Grizelda

Bao - you heard / saw all of Elisabeth's last post.
Woe -you didn't.
Elisabeth - you're able to pick out things - with Expert Detection, you can mostly piece much of this together. But there are still gaps.