• Solo • Neither snow nor snow nor snow nor gloom of snow

[Oram Mednix]

3 Ashan 721

It was not the first time Oram had received a letter. It was, however, the first time that he had been able read such a letter on his own. And it looked like he wouldn’t have a chance to do it alone. The hunter had told his older brother, Osric, about the wondrous glasses Saoire had so generously gifted him last Cylus, and Osric, at first not believing him, had marveled at Oram’s newfound ability to read, even if it was with the aid of a crutch.

And it had been Oram’s sincere hope that the thing would stay between them. Of course Osric would tell Signy, that was inevitable. But for some reason, the hunter had fondly hoped the news would not spread beyond that house. Judging by the train of people that followed Osric into the communal dormitory Oram shared with the other bachelors during the winter, this hope had been dashed. Wig, Wig’s mom, Clem, Signy, the camp Elder, the ever-lovely Sarina (a boyhood crush of Oram’s to whom he hardly spoken in arcs, and who was now married) and her husband, and several other travelers from Oram’s camp all piled into the dormitory behind Osric, crowding the floor, when the tinker brought in the newly-arrived letter.

Oram blushed and looked unhappily at the crowd. They seemed excited, eager, almost as if he were going to marry the stupid thing his brother had brought as opposed to simply read it. He shot Os a sharp look. Os returned it blandly, held up the square of paper. ”You have mail,” he announced. Oram growled. ”And I’m the last person in the camp you told?” he groused. Osric ignored the complaint and simply offered the letter.

Oram took it and looked at the markings on it. Stubbornly, he made no move to get his spectacles at first. The trills dragged on. There were expectant rustles around the crowded room. Finally, Oram relented with a sigh and pulled the spectacles out of its pouch. They didn’t look that remarkable, apart from the fact that they were reading spectacles, which were not all that common. But they didn’t have rainbow-colored lenses nor runic inscriptions on the earpieces, nor anything else to indicate that it had unique virtues.

Feeling self-conscious as he put them on, Oram looked at the envelope. It was addressed to: ”Oram Mednix, Esquire, Care of Osric Mednix, Esquire, Camp just outside Scalvoris.” He broke the seal and opened the envelope to reveal a short, neatly-written note on a single-squared sheet of paper. What was written there wasn’t something he expected, so his eyebrows went first up in surprise, then lowered in confusion.

”Well,” burst out Wig, ”What does it say, Oram?”

Oram looked up at the expectant faces; his eyes caught the flash of Sarina’s shiny red hair and he instantly found himself worrying about how he must look wearing the glasses. ”You want me to read it *to* you?!” he asked in disbelief. Various heads and voices did various things to indicate that, yes, they all did want him to read it to them.

After shooting Os a quick, venomous look, he resigned himself to giving his fellow travelers their afternoon entertainment:

Esteemed Mr. Mednix,

The Darbyton Rangers have taken notice of your actions on and around the 17th of Cylus in the aftermath of the blizzard. Your innovative use of snowshoes was obviously effective and of great help to those of your community. This interests the Rangers, as we feel such techniques for dealing with extreme weather as you have demonstrated would be of use to our future endeavors. We would like to talk to you.

I and a detachment of Rangers have just recently arrived in Scalvoris and are currently staying in rooms at the Menagerie. I would like to invite you to come talk to me at your earliest convenience; it is my sincere wish that we might fruitfully exchange ideas and knowledge, and possibly even come to some sort of beneficial arrangement.

I look forward to talking to you.

Sincerely,

Weyla Sardin, Ranger

Somebody wolf-whistled after Oram had read the signature; he was pretty sure it was Clem. ”Wey-la” said Wig, teasingly drawling the name. ”She sounds pretty!” Oram glared at him, hastily snatching off the glasses in the hopes that it would make the glare more effective. Judging from the snickers, it didn’t.

”Well, it sounds like you’d better get going,” someone else said. That would be Sarina’s husband. ”You shouldn’t keep a lady waiting.” The chuckles this remark drew from the other travelers just made Oram that much more flustered and annoyed. He scrambled to put the letter and glasses away somewhere, and to make a show of getting ready to leave, muttering: ”Very well, I will!”. He had to get out of there before Wig started them on a chorus of: “Oram’s got a girl-friend! Oram’s got a girl-friend!”

Thankfully, the company relented in their efforts to embarrass the hunter, and instead filed past to clap him on the shoulder and congratulate him. That wasn’t quite as humiliating as a jeering “girlfriend” chorus, but it still made Oram far less happy than his fellows probably intended. He had been given a gift; he had not earned an attainment, and being congratulated as if he had left him unsatisfied. After an eternity of shoulder-clapping and well-wishing and teasing about his upcoming tryst, most of the travelers filed out, leaving only Clem and Osric, neither of whom he wanted to talk to, and both of whom he pointedly ignored as he got ready to go out.

———————————————————————————————————————————

Oram had not been to the Menagerie in a while, but it looked much the same as he remembered it from when he had bought Mule. It also smelled and sounded much the way he remembered it. Those sensations were actually welcome to the hunter, though. It was warm inside, and he was certain the horses wouldn’t start chanting about him having a girlfriend. Looking around for a person, trying to act like somebody who needed “help”, Oram pulled out his letter so that he could ask about the whereabouts of Weyla Sardin, Gir-dammit!-Ranger.

[Pegasus]

The Menagerie

The letter from Weyla Sardin was seen by one of the Menagerie workers who shook their head and said nope, they had no idea. But, they asked and finally, called on the boss. Elise Flarsdotter, the head of The Menagerie came out and looked at his letter. "No," said the Naerrik. "It's not familiar. Let me check if this is one of the Rangers I don't know about. Come with me, please?" She led him into a small office, which was chaos but in an organised chaos kind of way and she smiled. There was another person in the room, and he was dark haired with a pale face and sharp features. He stood when Oram entered the room.

"Forgive the subterfuge, Oram. My name is Elliot, I am the chief Ranger here on Scalvoris." He held out a hand to shake and then, he turned to Elise. "Thank you, Elise. I appreciate your help." She nodded, smiled, and exited the room. Elliot looked at Oram with a keen and appraising gaze and then, after seemingly making up his mind, he spoke. "I have heard much information about you," he said. "And everything I hear tells me that you are a good man who can be trusted. You have a no-nonsense attitude, which I appreciate, and frankly, I need some help."

He slid over a letter to Oram and waited for Oram to read it. "The situation in Egilrun is dire," he said. His voice was blunt as he did so. "And we have a situation where we believe that the Rangers have been infiltrated. There is politics which is an old tale, of the Logging Consortium and what they nearly achieved. We believe they were working for or with Slags Deep." He sighed, slightly. "The head of the Logging Consortium's sister in law is my deputy and I have no evidence but a lot of mistrust." He looked at Oram and sighed slightly.

"So. I am going to ask you to apply to join the Rangers. Because there is no Ranger presence over Egilrun, and because Liza is too busy with her glassblowing business, it will be expected that I will oversee your training. I will then task you with working with me in overseeing the building of a Ranger HQ there. You will be given the resources needed, and so on. But your job will be to increase Ranger presence there. While you are there, listen. Learn. Find weaknesses and strengths of the place and the people." Elliot spoke softly, calmly. "I will be hard on you. I will make it seem like you are failing in your task. Hopefully, this will mean that someone will approach you."

He opened his hands in a gesture of almost-surrender. "It is dangerous, there is no doubt. But these are dangerous times and you are a relative unknown factor. Which, to me, represents an opportunity." His smile was slight, terse. "I am sure you have questions, and please be assured that I will understand if you say no."

And then, he was silent as he waited for Oram's response.

"Nah," Elise said to the man who'd originally asked. "There's no such Ranger of that name that I could find. He reckons it was a prank, probably his sister." She shrugged. "Bloody time waster." And, outside, people got on with their jobs.....

[Oram Mednix]

Hmmm, five letter word for an ill-tempered expression, ends in 'l'...

Oram scowled and then scowled some more at the response he was getting to asking around for Weyla. There was no woman here by that name there? Of course not! Of course this was some sort of prank! Clem and Wig were probably yucking it up right now…except, wouldn’t they want to be here for that? Everybody who knew abut the letter was back at the camp; who was here to laugh at silly Oram?

When the hunter was finally brought to Elliot, his scowl didn’t go away, nor even lessen, but now it was more of a puzzled scowl than an irritated one. Elliot?! The Chief Ranger?! And writing aliased notes to send for *him*? Clearly there was stuff going on, possibly fussy stuff. Oram didn’t like that. He scowled.

He scowled, but he listened with interest, nonetheless, as Elliott explained his business. It sounded every bit as fussy as the traveler had dreaded. Sisters-in-law (what was it with sisters-in-law?), logging consortia, glassblowing, Slag’s Deep… Slag’s Deep? Oram’s ears perked up at that mention. It was, as far as he knew, just a prison colony near Egilrun. It employed a lot of people, and not just prisoners, so it had a presence in Egilrun; nonetheless, people sometimes talked about it in ominous, meaning-loaded tones, as if it were secretly Faldrun’s Lair of Doom or something. Signy had mentioned that her father and his business associates said all sorts of portentous stuff about the place. Oram might have to be a bit less dismissive of Signy’s gossip going forward, he realized grudgingly.

Oram started to voice a protest when Elliott presented him with a letter supposed to help explain things, then realized he had his special spectacles with him. In his haste to flee Clem’s and Wig’s mockery, he had stuffed them into the same pocket as the infamous “Weyla” letter, and so they, too had found their way here. He put them on and examined the letter. This Woe person made the situation sound dire indeed, and after Oram had finished the letter, Elliott added an explanation even more dire-sounding -and then, a surprising proposal and plea.

Oram scowled. He was doing that a lot lately. Join the Rangers? The notion had crossed his mind more than once, but he had never thought himself especially worthy of such an outfit. He had the woodcraft, sure, but there was more to, right? Still, Elliott wanted him to apply -he said ‘apply’ but it sounded like he already had a task he wanted Oram to do, and a pretty big one at that. Set up a whole Ranger HQ? A new base of operations? And then from that base scout out Faldrun’s Lair of Doom?

Elliott summed up, and Oram could tell the Chief Ranger was awaiting his questions. And Oram had plenty. Too many, in fact, all trying to jam their way out of the back of his mind into his mouth. Thinking, exhaling slowly, the hunter tried to get his face to relax into some expression other than a scowl. It took a few trills for his roiling concerns and confusions to resolve into words he could speak.

”Alright,” he started, exhaling the word on a big breath of forced relaxation, ”How many rangers are you looking to make a base for, and over what time scale?” That was it. The first question. Now others started to pop into mind eagerly shouting “me, too!” But the hunter willed them all to wait their turn. Some of them would probably change once he had the answer to the first one. A few would not, he judged, and he let them through. ”How secret are we trying to keep this, and from whom?” was the next question he asked. Then, finally: ”Okay, say I apply to be a Ranger. How exactly does one do that?”

As he listened to Elliott’s answers, Oram realized that he was scowling.

[Pegasus]

The Menagerie

If Elliot had any thoughts about the numerous scowls on Oram's face, he said nothing. He simply allowed the man time to think through what Elliot had said to him, and what he was suggesting. Then, he listened to Oram's questions ~ as they were stated ~ and finally, he began to answer.

"We are thinking that there will be between thirty and fifty rangers there, in total," he said. "And the time scale will need to be quick. We want to have a strong presence for the upcoming war, and building the HQ quickly is the best way to do it." But the later questions Oram asked? They were the important ones. Elliot sighed slightly, and thought about just what details needed sharing here.

"How secret and who from is a difficult question, truthfully," he said. "We believe the Rangers have been infiltrated. We are sure that there are spies and information has been leaked, there is no doubt." He looked at Oram with a stern yet honest expression. "Either, I am paranoid and there is not one very big problem, or there is one very big problem. In Harvardr, Linca is in a coma, the Rangers have been infiltrated, there were attacks on the supplies for the Order of the Adunih." He shook his head. "It is not a coincidence, I feel. So, how secret and who from? As secret as we can and everyone." He smiled slightly.

"The building of the HQ is something that will happen, that will be done. However, it affords us a possibility to have you seem to be failing in it, or at least not meeting my standards or being treated harshly. My hope then is that you are an unknown enough person to those who don't bother to look closely, that they'll approach you." If they did, or if they didn't, Elliot reckoned they learned something that way. "A new face might just give the shake-up needed." He hoped.

As for the how he applied to be a Ranger? That one was easier. Elliot smiled. "To apply, you ask an existing Ranger, or you write to me. You could write something now and I'll take it." He gestured out into the shop. "I don't know who I can trust, and who I can not. So, my situation demands that I am either isolated or I take a risk. You are that risk, for me." With a serious expression, he added "As, no doubt, I am for you if you do this."

Then, Elliot sat back and looked at him and waited for more questions. Or a downright refusal or even - possibly - a step forward. At the moment, he simply couldn't tell.

[Oram Mednix]

Certainty of death…small chance of success…what are we waiting for?

Thirty to fifty rangers. Oram’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, temporarily erasing the scowl that had started to settle upon his forehead. Surprise at the number. Surprise at Elliott telling him the number so plainly. Surprise that Elliott was asking *him* to set something like this up. He took time to let the surprise wear off and the implications start to sink in.

He didn’t have time, though, because Elliott told him more. About the chieftain in Harvardr being in a coma. About the medical supplies being raided. About the Rangers themselves being infiltrated. By the time the Chief Ranger told Oram all this, his scowl was back in full force. ”You think Slag’s Deep could be behind, or at least involved in, *all* that?” he asked, incredulous. He scratched his head. ”And the Logging Consortium, too, eh? Well it would make sense that whoever was behind that had spies in the Rangers, I guess. But you think that goes to Slag’s Deep?” He shook his head and gave a low whistle. It was all too big. And too political. And too fussy.

Oram was relieved when Elliott got to the last part, about how he would go about joining, or applying to join, the Rangers. That was a straightforward thing, a clear what-to-do-next thing. He nodded. ”Alright, let’s say I do that. Do you have pen and paper?” Oram still had his spectacles handy, so he reseated them on his nose and got ready to compose his…what did the Chief Ranger call it?-application to join the Rangers. Magic writing-conferring virtues notwithstanding, Oram was no writer, so he kept it simple, trying to recall all the letters he had read to them and how they went. So, something like: “To Chief Ranger Elliott of the Rangers of Darbyton, my name is Oram Mednix and I would like to become a Ranger in your Company.” Then maybe a sentence or two listing what his skills were, what he brought to the table.

He paused when he tried to think of what he should say about *why* he wanted to join. He decided to keep it general. ”I’ve been hearing about the great things the Rangers do, and what they have been doing lately, and I would like to be a part of that. Regards, Oram Mednix.” He looked at it. He had never written a letter of any kind before, not a formal one making any sort of meaningful request, anyway. He hoped it was good enough.

After pushing that note across to Elliott, he scratched his beard and thought about any other questions he might want to ask before their interview was over. It was always hard to know when more questions was too many or not enough. In keeping with the whole what-do-I-do-next theme, he decided to stick for now to questions that dealt with precisely that. ”So, who do I talk to next? Or hear from next?” he asked. ”And when I walk out of here in a few bits, what would you want to be the very next thing that I do?”

That was just about the most literal and direct way he could have broached the subject. It might actually work. ”Once I get to doing stuff,” he concluded, ”I’ll know better which other questions are actually important to ask.”

[Pegasus]

The Menagerie

Elliot shrugged. "On the trial that slavery was abolished here," he said, quietly. "We were debating it in the Council Chambers. Took a break. I was taken by cowards in the dark and killed." He raised his eyes to Oram and spoke his truth. "I was resurrected by our then-member for Welfare. Brought back right in the middle of my judgement." He sighed slightly. "The people who destroyed the Docks posed as members of the Elements for literally arcs, and then burned women alive - or tried to." He shook his head at the memories. "All of it keeps coming back, though, to this. This war, this place, this man." He sighed.

Then, he turned a serious gaze to Oram. "Or, I am the most paranoid man you have ever met." He supposed that death might do that to him, but he would rather be over cautious than not. He nodded as Oram asked for a parchment and quill and he handed them to him. Then, he fell quiet and watched as Oram wrote the letter. Sitting back, he gave Oram the time and space needed to write and he didn't stare over Oram's shoulder, or watch what he was dong. Oram might notice that Elliot looked around at the place, rather like he was seeing it for the first time. Evidently, judging by his expression, Elliot wasn't keen on clutter.

He took the letter and read it, when Oram offered it to him and he nodded his head. Oram's next questions were sensible and practical - very much like the man himself. "Gather what information you need and want. Do not tell me what that is, but if you gather any information which might be relevant, inform the Albarech, subtly. Meet me in Egilrun at your convenience," he said. "Report to the Ranger HQ there - or to the building that's being constructed," he said. "And I'll meet you. Then, I'll set you tasks to do for that place, and I will never be satisfied with your work. I will publicly and openly be critical and poke holes in what you do, and privately I will express that opinion too. " He smiled a slight, mirthless smile. "I do not like the phrase 'it is evident to me', because it's a nonsense. It just means, 'I think this'. So, every criticism I give you which uses the phrase 'it is evident to me' is a lie." That was important to Elliot to say.

Then, he considered. "If they contact you, I need you to let me know. So, if they contact you, then argue with me and say the same phrase back. Does that work?" He smiled. "You can tell me what is evident to you, and we'll both know the meaning of it. I am not good at subterfuge, and I am not a bully, but if it is what is needed, I will make it seem like I am making your life hell." Sighing, he raised an eyebrow. "Thoughts? Amendments?"

[Oram Mednix]

It is evident to me that I am lying. What now, eh?

Elliott’s story confused Oram. The Chief Ranger had been murdered and resurrected? The hunter did not recall having heard that story, or at least not that particular detail; he thought it was the sort of thing he would remember if he had. And that last statement: "All of it keeps coming back, though, to this. This war, this place, this man." What man? The Warden? But Elliott did not seem to want to talk more about it now, and it wasn’t relevant to the immediate task, as far as the traveler could tell. He did not press.

What came after was far more important, though only a hair less confusing. The Chief Ranger had already said that he was going to make a great show of running down Oram’s efforts at building the outpost, or headquarters or whatever the Ranger place was to be called. It didn’t sound like much fun, and the traveler wasn’t sure why that meant somebody from the other side would approach him, but if it helped the cause, if it would spare Scalvoris a worse devastation in the war Elliott seemed convinced was at hand, Oram would do it.

And if Elliott thought the phrase “it is evident” was nonsensical, why was he supposed to use it? Oram face started to form another scowl until he belatedly realized: It’s code. And when he realized that, Oram also realized that Elliott truly *was* paranoid. He seemed to think that the walls of his very own headquarters hid unfriendly ears. Yet he trusted this place, even if he didn’t seem to like the clutter that filled its corners.

When Elliott had finished, Oram sighed. ”It sounds like a better plan than I could come up with if you put me on the spot,” he said at last. He rather doubted that Elliott was right about not being good at subterfuge; certainly the Chief Ranger was better than Oram. ”I would say I’m looking forward to working with you, but it doesn’t sound like that’s going to be quite true.” He gave Elliot what he hoped was a wry grin. Or maybe it was really just a dread-filled grimace. ”No, I don’t have anything else. Let’s get started.”

He did still have one nagging question, though it was not one he was going to ask Elliott:

What was he supposed to tell Wig and the other guys about Weyla Sardin?

[Pegasus]

Your Review

Oram "The Scowler" of Mednix

Overview

I had such fun writing this thread with you! It was an absolute pleasure to write and I was just completely entranced by your portrayal of Oram. He's such a well-developed and multi-faceted pc and you write him with integrity and skill. I hope you enjoy your rewards - you've earned 'em!

Points

XP: 15
Renown: 10 (for joining the Rangers)

Loot

+ 1 undercover secret super-sleuth spy-job!

Knowledge

Detection: Noting similarities and differences in your environment
Detection: Trying to spot someone helpful in a crowd.
Detection: Watching the person you're speaking to
Discipline: Not giving into being teased
Discipline: Don't give in to the grumpy
Intelligence: Infiltrating organisations is effective
Intelligence: Providing an avenue to be given information.
Intelligence: Using code words and phrases helps intelligence operations.
Intimidation: Glares work - sometimes.
Investigation: Can often be secret
Investigation: Undercover investigation
Investigation: Putting together clues
Investigation: Considering whether there could be one Big Bad behind lots of events.
Investigation: Always think about next steps
Investigation: May require you to act in a particular way.
Writing: Keep it simple.

If you have any questions or concerns regarding this review - drop me a PM.