[Seasonal Event] The Heart of Scalvoris.

[Pegasus]

40th Ymiden, 723
Saoire's School.

In Saoire's school that evening, they were invited. Anyone who wished to attend - anyone at all who was a resident of Scalvoris during the events of the Pirate Attacks - they were invited. No matter where they were, an invitation arrived - personally addressed to them. Should they need it, there was a single-use item which would open a gateway to this place- but only on this trial at this time.

They arrived in the courtyard of the school stepping out of the Naficula-Àdánù , each person greeted by

Horatio Thunderbussell III

. He was pleased to see each person but the small cadouri was quieter than usual, sombre even. He smiled and greeted and got people where they were going but the chatter was gone and he was , basically, rather subdued.

An area outside had been prepared. There under the apparently watchful gaze of the giant oak tree there were seats of various sizes, tables groaning with the weight of food and gentle music playing. It wasn't so much that everyone was subdued, it was more a case of - simply - it obviously wasn't a party. People mingled and chatted - there was the sound of a greeting called out here and there but there was no sense of a party or even a celebration.

There was a dais - a large circular raised area on which were portraits. Each one, a portrait of a person who had died. It wasn't only the known people, the famous ones or the ones who had died defending places. No, there were portraits of everyone who had died and there was no "pecking order". Anyone who took the time, in fact, would see that underneath each portrait the name of the deceased was written and, with a little attention to detail one would see that the portraits were displayed in alphabetical order. The portraits were in a spiral, maximising space.

There were a lot of them. All the same size, all bearing the same information. The name, their date of birth, date of death, how they died and who their immediate family was.

The dais was off to the side, to the left of the Naficula-Àdánù. The refreshments and general area for talk and mingling was to the right of it. In the mingling area there was the low hum of chatter, but people walked silently through the labyrinth of images of the dead.

The area where they would sit and mingle, however, had also been prepared in a specific way. Chairs and tables and blankets to sit on were plentiful - those who came could choose where and how they sat, be it a single chair, a bench, at a table or on the ground. There was an area for speaking, a podium to speak at. And it was there that Saoire appeared. She didn't magically appear, she walked up to the podium. Her dress was white and gold and she wore a golden headpiece. There was no need for her to call for quiet, people fell quiet as she stood there and all eyes were on her.

"I am so pleased to see you all here. Thank you, each, for coming."

She had the ability to make it sound like she was speaking just to you, whoever you were. Looking around at those gathered, she gestured to the dais where the portraits stood in silent witness to the lives lost. "When Scalvoris was attacked, we lost so much," she said. "So many people taken, before their time. Others kidnapped and some still missing despite all efforts." Her eyes were filled with compassion. "There has been so much lost and yet, in the midst of the attacks and in the aftermath, people stepped up, stepped forward." Looking around, she gestured at everyone. "There have been investigations, interrogations, rebuilding and kindness shown from one living soul to another all over our island. "

Saoire paused for a moment, then, and then spoke again. "The pirates who attacked were looking for something," she said. "Something specific and something powerful. An item." Falling silent for a moment, Saoire's gaze turned to meet Horatio's and the small cadouri smiled and nodded at her. "I have been told of all the investigations, I have done much investigating myself. Under this Hunter's Moon I swear to you that we will put an end to the events which led to the attacks. Together, we can do that."

"It would be easy, " she said, then, lifting her chin and looking at each of them it seemed. "It would be easy for me to simply tell you what has happened. What each person has done and how they have worked to discover and to rebuild. But that would not be right. Each one of you deserves this moment to speak. To tell us what happened where you were, and what you did both in the moment and since."

Stepping to one side, she gestured to the podium. "And so I invite each one of you. Every one of you. To come forward and tell us that. " Her voice carried no matter where she stood. " That way, we all know everything. Maybe we can cast light on each other's experiences."

And then, she waited. She wasn't joking when she said everyone. She meant every person here. One by one they stepped up and spoke. They spoke of their terror, of their loss and of what they had done since. It should have taken days -or at least well into the night and early hours of the next trial, but it did not. Stars shone above them and seemed to shine more brightly during this time.

An hour later, everyone had spoken and some at length. Perhaps it was a gift that Ralaith bestowed on Saoire in this moment. Who knew.

When everyone had spoken, when every tear had been shed and each word was wrung out and shared, Saoire spoke again.

"They were looking for the Heart," she said. "They were looking for it to seek its power. They believe that it can harness and control the strength of the Induks." Four towering beings stood behind her. Immense entities, recognisable to their Forged, of course, but silent and still. "That they could trap them once more and, using their energy, they could return the power of the Pirate Lords and magnify it a hundredfold. They believed that item, the Heart, would give them Dominion over all. Not just Scalvoris but all of Idalos" She smiled, sadly.

"I can tell you where this Heart is and how we can ensure that none will ever entrap the Induks or seek to enslave Scalvoris again." Saoire said. "The story begins with a race of beings known as the Shay."

!

Message from: Peg

OOC! Welcome welcome! Ok so. First post please is you doing what Saoire asked (if you would!). Namely, stepping up and speaking. Speak of what happened to you and what you did during the attacks - and then what you did after. The encouragement is there for you to share what you've investigated, what you've built, what you've achieved as well as of the losses of the night itself. Assume a lot of tears, a lot of emotional stories. Rules are fairly straightforward. I am aware that this is a big post for many of you so I'm going to give you two weeks. Today is 1st August. I will post again on 15th August. People who can post here: Anyone who was in Scalv / involved in the Pirate Attacks may post here. As may anyone who has been on Scalv this season. If you don't fit into either of those two groups and want to join, just drop me a DM / PM. Thanks. Feel free to react to others -if you post after Person A, then you can react to what Person A said. My PCs were involved in the Pirate Attacks - Faith died in it, so that's ok but I'm going to consider playing Vega in this thread. If I decide to, I will not mod Vega at all. Saoire won't speak to her / etc. IF there is a need for Saoire to do so, I will ask Basilisk (who modded the Sweetwine stuff) to take care of that. When it comes time to review, I will ask Bas to review Vega. When I post on the 15th Saoire has a "reveal" - but I want to make sure that the players get their moment first - once I post again it will be moving on to the "Fire Forged Rose" aspect of this story which will be our seasonal. There's no posting order. You can write in here assuming that the threads you've started in the tracker are completed - but I would ask you OOC to prioritise completing them, too. Two pcs per player is ok! - hope that helps those of you who were heroic in multiple places! Any questions, don't hesitate to ask.

[Woe]

Soz was a boon companion while Woe was on the Lamb, after having resisted arrest from the Elements, and subsequently absconding to the 'safety' of the Scaltoth. He'd been framed for the murder of a harlot that was thought to be cursed by Death. So ironic now that he found himself in a the orbit of tribes and savages to whom Death itself was worshipped as a spirit.

Perhaps there was more to the tribes' beliefs than met the eye. Woe almost wondered if he'd come across Ralgar or some other Tribesman on his hermitage into the dense wilderness.

There were dangers for someone as unprepared as Woe to undertake them. Although he could find water and food at need, the ornerous wildlife from which he thought he was protected by dint of a Peace Blessing from Ziel disagreed, and took turns alternately stalking and chasing him off from their territory. Who'd have thought that predators would think stepping in the ground they shat upon would be tantamount to an aggressive action? Not Woe, but then although he knew how to survive, he was not a woodsman by calling. And though he was imbued with the spirit of Scaltoth, he felt not at all at home under its canopy.

So he took to the canopy itself, and that was mostly where he slept, in tree branches that could support him, while he considered his situation, in between wrestling matches with tree-snakes and envenomed vines, the likes of which he could only begin to ponder the purpose of.

Egil, who Woe hadn't seen in trials, alighted to the branch nearby. Egil quarked, and seemed to hold a small parcel and parchment on its limb. Woe frowned, "Egil, what?"

"Amidst the noxious pollen of angel trumpets and devil breath, you are invited!"

That hardly answered Woe's question, so Egil helped him by alighting again to his shoulder, and letting him loosen the parcel from its leg. Inside, he found a small trinket, a glass nel. On it, an invitation to a gathering held by Saoire.

Woe frowned. Was he forgiven then? Or was this a trap. He doubted Saoire would stoop to deception in an effort to trap Woe. Besides, he knew he was innocent, and so must she. Perhaps she had a way out for him. He read on, and realized that the gathering wasn't about him at all. Well, of course. But still... Woe knew he must be cautious about who he revealed himself to.

Soz flew overhead, circling the tree-lines as Woe contacted her through their bond. He told her to hunt the Scaltoth a while, and that he would return. As far as he knew, even if he was exonerated for murder, and the Element assault forgiven, his career as a politician was over. And he would not be Egg again.

It was a bitter-sweet realization, and one that only seemed to dawn on him now. He looked at the nel, and closed his eyes. As he did so, he felt himself grasped in the arms of the tree he was perched upon. As if it closed its fist around him, he felt transported through the roots of the tree and toward Faldrass, that far island and the place where Saoire made her home.

Woe invoked his Cloak of Shadows, in order that few would bother to take note of him. They may recognize him, but none would bother him without a strong compulsion to, at least not yet. And he didn't acknowledge anyone just yet.

He knew well enough that the Immortal Saoire, however, would recognize him, having met her a few times now. Woe was willing to let that be as it may.

Woe avoided the mingling, as was his custom, and intent. He was barely presentable, in the same clothing he'd worn on his literal flight from Egilrun. Scuffed and travel-worn, and covered in leaves in spots. He wasn' t looking much better for wear, with a sickly pallor to him.

Thankfully most of the others gatherered seemed to take that as a signal that he wasn't to be bothered with. And he drifted into the obscurity of the event. Yet even as he did, Saoire seemed to speak directly to each of them, and so it seemed to Woe as well. He scowled in grief, as he remembered the night that had precipitated his swift declilne into ignomy. Even with Fleaface's treacherous actions, Woe could not blame him entirely. Woe couldn't escape a measure of blame himself, for the way things had gone, and for being the one who'd created the monster that was Fargis Cutler, Fleaface.

Whether Fleaface was working with the assassin that had eventually killed Faith Augustin, or else his appearance was mere coincidence... Woe bore the blame for being laid low by his former catspaw, and unable to defend the doctor in her time of need. He carried that guilt with him for all the forty days of Ymiden, and in spite perhaps of the theme of the season, he couldn't find it in him to forgive himself.

He'd been present at Faith's Memorial, but he'd not spoken any words. Mostly staying to himself and remaining in the shadows to be a witness. But now he rose first among some of the gathered to speak. He shed his cloak of shadow, and revealed himself to the crowd. Half os his face was covered by a distinctive shadowy veil. A souvenir of the cursed wound that Fleaface inflicted on him.

He cleared his throat, and began to speak. He had trouble knowing where to begin. How does one put context to one of the more pivotal events in one's life? Surely you'd start at the beginning, where you came from, if not reference it. Yet Woe didn't want to put the congregation to sleep with his reminiscing. So he decided to err on the side of brevity when it came to speaking on his past.

"I only came to know Faith Augustin in the last four arcs, where she aided my efforts to redeem my largely wasted life." Woe started, stoic as ever, "I could scarcely believe it, when I was told as I lay in delirium of recovery, that Professor Augustin was killed, found dead nearby where I'd fallen myself."

“She had a way of showing a mirror to the misguided, and aiding those who were well-intended even as they were suffering delusion."

“My old kin, the Webspinners, have not been friends to mortals, to Scalvoris, or indeed Idalos as a whole. They and at turns, I, have caused untold harms and unleashed terror wherever our feet have trod. We’ve torn families, companies, friends, and entire nations apart. And for every misfortune we’ve reaped, ten more have gone unpunished.”

“I will never pay my debt to the world, even if my soul is thrown down into chains, and denied the peace of the Beyond.” Woe pointed behind him, at the picture that shown Faith's image. “But there goes an innocent, raised from darkness and given to an unworthy World. Her life paid for the survival of untold many."

“Faith Augustin has died, but as Saoire has implied, words cannot convey the immensity of what happened that night, the terror, confusion, and loss that it has left in its wake. Yet let's allow Faith's example to be our guide, and pursue justice in the wake of her fall."

So saying, Woe didn't elaborate on his contributions, but was content to leave it at the eulogy he'd not had the courage to speak before.

[Oram Mednix]

I didn’t see Elvis’ picture

Saoire’s invitation had come as no surprise to Oram; the Immortal rarely passed up an opportunity to commemorate significant events -often rather harrowing ones- that befell Scalvoris. Saoire was always kind and appreciative of her guests’ efforts on such occasions, as generous in gratitude as she was in hospitality; the hunter found that he always left such events richer in both knowledge and treasure than when he had arrived. He would also get to see people he had not seen in a while.

And yet, knowing what had led to this point, he could only feel sadness and a tinge of dread. He knew that, for instance, one of the people he would not be seeing was Faith Augustin. Although he had not known her that well, the Chief Ranger still felt keenly what her loss meant to the islands and their people. He knew that many people had died, and that, although evil had been beaten off, its source had not been eliminated, just as it had not been the last time the Pirate Lords had been driven off.

Oram had arrived on Faldrass the trial before, accompanying fellow Ranger Elise Shmickel, who had lingered longer on the main island than anticipated, alternating her time between continuing to help the Havardeens and chipping in with the rebuilding of Darbyton. The surprise had been a welcome one for the Chief Ranger, and even more so for poor overworked Refed; at length, however, after nearly two tentrials, the time came for her to return here to resume her task of developing the Ranger presence on this island. Oram’s invitation was fortuitously timed.

The cadouri Horatio Thunderbussel III greeted him, as apparently he did all the other guests. In spite of the somber mood, Oram’s heart gladdened a bit at the sight of him. The hunter had not forgotten how kind Ms. Thunderbussel had been to him the last time they had interacted, something he made sure to mention to Horatio as they spoke.

Greetings out of the way, Oram looked around the courtyard he now found himself in, noting many faces both familiar and unfamiliar. Some guests, he noticed, were filing atop a dais through a long, spiraling row of what looked to be pictures. Given the solemnity that hung over everything, especially on that platform, Oram guessed even before he saw them that these represented portraits of the dead. Was Elliott’s picture up there? Oram wondered. Or Larkson Willow’s?

It seemed crass and disrespectful to try to use such a display as an investigative tool, yet the Chief Ranger felt that he owed it to Rangers and Darbytonians alike to avail himself of any information that might shed light on their fates. Against every inclination he went up to the dais and scanned the long series of portraits for their likenesses, or for those of anyone else he might know. He was still in the middle of his search for names and faces when Saoire spoke to the party.

The pirates had been looking for something? That was interesting. The Chief Ranger wondered if that search were in any way connected with the ransacking the attackers had done in Darbyton. They had apparently been looking for something, too. It was clear that Saoire knew more than she had so far told. And since she had now asked each and every one of them to share their stories first, it was going to be a while before she told any more.

A brief spasm of panic seized Oram when he realized that he was himself included among those most expected to speak, and that to do so he would first have to uncoil himself from the long spiral of portraits he had wound into during his search for Elliott and Larksong. As furtively, dexterously, and considerately as he could, the hunter began threading and twisting his way towards the edge of the dais through a seemingly endless string of people searching for portraits of their dearly departed. Keep talking, Woe he urged silently while the Egg reminisced about the death of Faith Augustin. Tell them everything. Dammit!

Oram had barely emerged from the array of portraits when Woe abruptly cut his speech short. And unfortunately, the sudden flurry of activity atop the stage attracted everyone’s attention to the hunter. Trying to conceal his dismay as he approached the speaking platform, Oram did his best to compose his thoughts quickly. Needing a trill, he tried stalling with some courtesies. ”I’d like to thank Saoire for being such a gracious hostess, and for having us here tonight,” he said, then instantly regretted it. This was not some sort of awards ceremony.

Taking a breath and clearing his throat awkwardly, he started again: ”I was asleep at home, in the woods a few miles from Darbyton the night of the attacks. So I was spared any direct effects of the violence. But the news was at my doorstep by first light, and I was in Darbyton by the time the sun was fully up that morning.” Oram paused, wondering where he should take this, what the audience wanted or needed to hear. He could only take his best guess.

”The attacks in Darbyton were not massive in scale,” he resumed after a few trills. ”Individual houses and buildings were targeted. I don’t think it was pirates in this case, but rather remnants of Cornel Sherapo’s gang. I don’t know what connection those might have with the Pirate Lords; however, the attacks were well-planned, and their timing can’t just be coincidence. And they were aided by parties who lived here, enemies in our midst who never left, and had presumably been lying in wait all this time. Our investigations suggested that the attackers were looking for something in the places they ransacked. We were unable to determine what that might have been, whether anyone found it, who might have been looking, nor do we know where they went afterward. My inquiries have, unfortunately, yielded more questions than answers.” He resisted the urge to shrug. Such a helpless gesture would not do here.

Instead, he next turned to his efforts in relief and rebuilding, efforts that had yielded far more fruit, in Darbyton, in Gunnvorton, in Havardr. And unlike with the investigations, Oram had definite ideas about what needed to be done next to continue recovery. If anything, he had too much to say on that topic, far more than was called for on this occasion. He had to cut himself short.

The hunter was deeply relieved once he had finished, and attention turned at length to other speakers. Many people spoke, Oram could not believe how many. He did not see how all of this could be recounted in a single evening. At last, Saoire spoke once more.

Oram’s ears perked up when she mentioned the Heart. He knew what that was. He had been there. And he vaguely recalled hearing earlier that the Heart was somehow connected with the last time the Pirate Lords had come to Scalvoris, as well. Doran may have suggested something like that. He also recalled Dorn mentioning something about Fei, and Pyk, and Shay, though he did not know what things those words referred to. One was an Original, maybe? And another was some sort of city, maybe?

He listened to what Saoire said next, hoping that her explanation would weave all these disparate threads of reference together into some sort of coherent picture.

[Nir'wei]

Just a moment ago, he'd been deep in the Mire. One of the most inhospitable regions of Rharne, dominated by dense swampland and crawling with insects and dangerous creatures, ranging from poisonous to venomous. It was, perhaps, the most removed from civilised society that he'd been for quite some time, both figuratively and literally. Perhaps that made it so strangely comforting. There wasn't a chance that he'd be disturbed there - he'd never run into people he knew, even those that looked to find him very likely never would, and he felt so... detached, from everything. From the Office of Natural Affairs. From the distant oaths he'd sworn and the burdens he'd shouldered.

Then, a letter had appeared in his hand. He hadn't know where it'd come from, or how it'd found him, but it had his name written carefully on its surface, and when he tore it open, he found a very crisp invitation to attend Saoire's School, at his convenience. It even came with what looked like a small charm, that the letter instructed him would allow him to visit for the day. Well, he'd smiled a little at that. She'd marked him herself, she must have known she'd gifted a power to do much the same himself; but the sentiment, caring enough to recognise he might need it anyway, had convinced him enough that he'd drawn upon his Telka powers in that moment and conjured a School Gateway for himself anyway.

Then, there he was. In the courtyard of the school, greeted by a familiar-looking Cadouri that earned a formal bow. He made sure to return the letter and the charm, of course. It was a small and easy courtesy. There was something obviously quiet and subdued though, both for the Cadouri and for the atmosphere of the gathering. Did they know something that he didn't? Even despite the food, the lights, light music and more, he couldn't tell-- oh.

The many, many faces of the dead slowly came into focus. He recognised one, and the lurch in his stomach nearly filled his throat with bile before he tore his gaze away.

Karem above, not now.

She wasn't the only one, though she was by far the most important, and the one he'd picked out of the crowd without a hint of hesitation. There were lots. More than he could stomach to count, and with more details beneath them than he dared to read. His eyes glazed over them all to settle on the dias instead, and despite the plentiful array of seats and blankets to occupy, Nir'wei chose a bare patch of floor to sit on instead, when Saoire appeared and spoke up to them all, offering a chance to remember, to share their experiences and cast back in time to that horrible day. Funny; it was the one thing he'd done almost everything in his power to avoid doing, even to the point of flying off to another nation to escape the dark clouds left in its wake, only to be pulled back by even the power of an Immortal herself.

Even as they began to speak, the talk came back to her again.

"I was here, on Faldrass, when they arrived." His eyes stared straight ahead, focused on nothing. "Six ships off the northern coast. I was alone. I knew that help wouldn't arrive in time and I didn't know what they wanted, but they were invading the island from the least populated region. They wanted to strike deep, and if they made it off those boats and disappeared into the woods, we'd never find them again. I did what I had to do. I pushed back. Forced them back, until they split off in three different directions in search of easier prey. I held my ground." There wasn't a taste of pride in his mouth. "They answered with several more, a new fleet even bigger than the last."

"My companions spread all over the island while I fought. Checking Faldrass, the School, fighting invaders in Haven and trying to evacuate Hopetoun before the rest of the fleet reached them. I did the best I could. Eventually I boarded their flagship, just my faithful wolves beside me. Tore apart its men myself. Only then it summoned some... great, horrible creature that could have swallowed a village. I wouldn't have made it out alive, but they pulled me to safety afterwards."

He felt like he'd just rambled. Like the story was too silly to be true. But his lips parted, and words continued to flow, beyond his conscious thought. "I did everything I could. Burned through every reserve of strength I'd known for the sake of lives I'd never met. But when I woke up in the morning, they told me that my sister had died in the fighting, and... Saoire, if I'd done what my soul begged of me in that moment, not even you could have found me again." He couldn't even find it in his heart to look at the Immortal, though she might be the only one that would have understood the significance.

It took a moment to wipe the tears from his cheeks, though it only re-smudged the dirt that they'd tracked clear marks through. "There was nobody to turn to, after her. I couldn't even attend the memorial... I would have made a mess of it anyway, y'know. After a few trials, doing what I could to help around Hopetoun and repair the damage to Faldrass... I left, knowing that I never wanted to feel as powerless as I did then, ever again. I travelled southwest, to Rharne. I searched for the powers needed to rally against any threat that would dare to return." He paused. "And I found its beginning in three unhatched Jacadon eggs."

Finished, he sighed out a long breath and slouched, bowing out for others to begin their tales as well, until Saoire spoke again and continued with her own extrapolation. It seemed he hadn't been the only one in search of power, though this was certainly different than what he'd intended. Shay? Enslaving Induks... there were fragments to this story that, the more she spoke, the more he seemed to recall hearing from a variety of sources, spanning arcs, across many regions. But perhaps this was the final piece that would join them all together.

[Kura Wolfsdotter]

Kura was sitting quietly in her office when the invitation arrived. She picked it up and read it over, taking the teleportation item. She had Saoire's Blessing, but she appreciated the gesture and after a long, slow thought, she took the offered teleportation, arriving at Saoire's school in an instant. When Horatio Thunderbussel greeted her, she nodded. The Cadouri was far more subdued than usual, but Kura understood that, as the Albarech was much the same, her own response far more subdued than usual. She moved on to let him greet other arrivals and took a quick look at the area that had been prepared. There was food and music, but it was clearly not a celebration, and Kura was glad of it. They hadn't, in her estimation, really won on the night of the pirate attacks. They hadn't even really broke even, as the massive spiral of images of the dead showed. No, they had survived. So had some of the attacking Lords, and some of those had escaped. They would almost certainly be back one day, and hopefully, they fared better.

Kura, for her part, didn't feel like partaking of the food at the moment, and instead made her way through the portraits. There were many of them, too many. Far too much of the population of Harvardr, too many of the citizens of Almund, most of the commanders of her military, people without any known rhyme or reason in Darbyton. These all frayed at her nerves, and under normal circumstances, would have roused her anger. Her people had been attacked, many of them slain. It was the kind of thing that normally sent her into a fury, however controlled it may seem to the outside. But she was finding it harder to reach her temper these days, and it was the portrait she was looking for that was the reason why.

Faith would have liked that she didn't receive any special place among the other dead, and Kura was partially glad for it as well. But she hadn't nearly been ready for Faith's death. She had called Faith her friend, but she had been denying the truth, more to herself than anyone else, when she did. Faith's final words to her in her will had driven that home. Faith had been her daughter, and Kura had never even admitted it before her death, not to herself and not to Faith. She hated that, the thought of how much had gone unsaid. She had outlived so many of her friends before, and had always comforted herself with the knowledge that some part of them had lived on through her, but she hadn't been able to find that this time.

She had always gone out of her way to make sure she never had children, certain that her sanity wouldn't withstand their loss. The idea that she'd once been so worried about degenerating into a rabid animal seemed laughable now. Now she was finding she wasn't sure she wanted to keep up her long life it was going to hurt this much for all those years. Steeling herself as best she could, however, she turned away from Faith's portrait to listen to Saoire when she arrived. Faith wasn't the only child she'd been in denial about, nor was she the only one that had been murdered. She would have to tell Cally the truth, but she wasn't sure how to yet. But she had survived Cally's murder, and had been able to move on and accept the loss as part of her life. She'd be able to do the same, in time, with Faith's. However badly it hurt now, she would adjust and be able to keep moving forward.

Quietly though, she wondered how many such losses she would be able to endure before that wasn't true any more.

Saoire said she would help put an end to what had caused the attacks, but she wanted people to share their own stories before she did. Kura let a few others speak, listening to Woe, Oram, and Nir'wei explain what they had been doing during that time and how their actions had affected the island, and how the deaths had affected them. She felt a great deal of sorrow for Woe and Nir'wei in particular. Faith had been Nir'wei's sister as much as she had been Kura's daughter. He would be hurting as much as she was. Woe's issue was one more of guilt that he felt for Faith's death. Kura was more than certain he'd had nothing to do with it, and she would have to get his name cleared after this.

When Nir'wei was done, Kura stepped forward onto the podium and looked around. "I was in Almund, with Balthazar Black. I had been working when we got word of the pirate attack. I tried to martial our defenses, but found they'd been sabotaged, and they'd set fire traps throughout the city, causing fires that resisted our best efforts to put it out. I tried to deal with the ship captains at range, but that turned out to not be feasible. I tried a few methods of culling the flames, but eventually found that they were caused by pieces of the Induks that had been stolen. I was not, to my knowledge and to my regret, able to rescue them." she said, taking a breath before continuing. "The leader of the attack on Almund was the Pirate Lord known as the Candlestick Maker. He claimed to be looking for an object known as the Fire Forged Rose, and had hostages to compel my surrender. Balthazar and I were able to rescue the hostages, and I was able to slay him, but not before a quarter of Almund was burned and the leaders of the Elements either assassinated or put in a coma." she said, before taking a deep breath.

"In the aftermath, I took stock of the island. Efforts to help places like Harvardr are underway, but our ability to co-ordinate resources is damaged. I also had to take direct control of the Elements, and have co-ordinated with Vega Creede to set up a system of leadership training in the Elements so that the Elements will hopefully be better able to respond to such attacks, and less susceptible to such a decapitation in the future. I also began reconstruction of Almund using the ships that attacked it, after they were inspected to make sure there weren't any traps. We also found what they were really looking for, an item known as the Heart of Scalvoris. We are still working to identify and locate it." she said, before going to sit down.

She supposed she could have been more personal, or given a eulogy. But no, she had no desire to let people that close, not right now. Let people see their Albarech focused purely on her duty. The person behind the title was in no fit position to let them have such an open look at her emotions at the moment. She was not ready to bare herself even to those close to her, much less those who were relative or total strangers to her. Once she was done, she took a seat and wrapped herself up in the fur cloak she was wearing. It wasn't really that she was cold, in fact she couldn't really get cold any more. It just provided another barrier between her and the people around her.

When the others were done, Kura listened quietly as Saoire took center stage again, and confirmed that they were looking for the Heart. She apparently knew where it was and how to prevent its use. However, she was surprised that it had something to do with the Shay. She only knew of them in that she was aware they had once existed, and that was it. Neither Karem nor Raskalarn had been keen to speak of them, and there were, to her knowledge, no surviving records of them. It didn't surprise her that Saoire know about them, she was an Immortal after all, but their being relevant was much more unexpected. Kura would normally be rather eager to learn about such an old secret, but found she couldn't quite reach that either. Still, she listened attentively to what Saoire had to say.

[Varlum]

During the past five Arcs there had been many Immortals present in Varlum's life, ranging from friends to foes. Many came back and reappeared, some blessed him and a few of the unlucky ones didn't live to talk of the meeting. Thankfully, almost every Immortal he wished well for had lived, bar perhaps one that he had wished for better. Others that had proven to be a threat had died as horribly as they deserved. But he remembered them all, every single one. It was important to him for a number of reasons. Primarily, it was out of respect, giving the Immortals a kind of attention they deserved for what they provided to Idalos. But it was also security. They were some of the most powerful beings in the world. If they decided to be evil, to bring death to Idalos, he would be sure to remember every strength and weakness alike they had.

So when an invitation arrived from Saoire, an Immortal he had only met during the time of gift giving, Varlum felt uneasy. He'd made himself a target in Scalvoris after his fight with a Pirate Lord, supposedly one of the bigger names among the pirates of Scalvoris - killed by his hands. Posing as an Immortal would be a foolish act. But these were the same people that had killed Faith. Foolish acts were the specialty of these cowards. Making themselves the target of some of the most powerful individuals in Idalos. Regardless of his uncertainty, however, Varlum already knew he would go. Perhaps it was simply a call from the Immortal herself. But if it was a trap, if they planned on killing him, they would be there waiting.

That was enough incentive for him.

Making use of the Portal he was given, Varlum went with two of his belongings. His usual axe and a ring - a gift from Raskalarn. It was a simple, unassuming ring that fit his stone-coated finger perfectly. But it was far more than it appeared. At a whim, he could drain the Ether from Immortals themselves, stripping them of their powers. It was something he would scorch before giving it away, but it was also something he wanted around as often as possible. Varlum had killed an Immortal once, but more evil beings were out there. If he had to he would kill them too.

When he arrived at his location, however, it became quickly apparent that he could lower his guard. Not only because of the appearance of the place being far from pirate like, but because he wasn't alone. People stood here that he had met before. Oram and Nir'wei. Two people he knew. People that had been with him for some of his toughest battles. If he was to fight now then he would be lucky to do it by their side. But as much as he recognised their faces, and many people mingled outside, Varlum kept to himself for now. As far as he was concerned this was no social call.

Eventually, after being greeted by a small Cadouri and some time had passed, Saoire herself stepped forward. She spoke openly, as he had come to expect from Immortals with morality like hers. Spoke of loss, spoke of relief efforts. Spoke of an item these enemies were looking for and a reason they wanted them. To enslave Induks and take over Idalos. A bold move, one that could be dangerous if it succeeded. Of course they were after such an artifact. Some trials Varlum wondered why such artifacts existed.

But then again, he possessed something potentially just as dangerous, the ring on his finger.

Then it came time for people to speak. Woe, a face he had somehow missed in the crowd, spoke first. He told of Faith and how he'd been there by her side the night she died. Varlum didn't have to imagine how that felt, he'd been in the same place before. A guilt that words couldn't describe. Oram spoke of his own losses, a painful one to be sure. As Nir'wei approached the pedestal Varlum knew much of what to expect, having been in Hopetoun the night of the attack. And finally, Kura, who shared a story of the Pirate Lord she had killed herself. Then the room went quiet for a moment, before the Mortalborn stood, Varlum making his way to the podium.

Once he stood there, towering over the room, he paused for a trill. "For the many that don't know me, my name is Varlum. Truth be told I'm not from here. My arrival in Scalvoris was simply poorly timed" he confessed with a glance out to the room. There was a sigh for a moment before he shook his head. "I am rarely the kind to share my grief. Especially in a room with those that have lost so much more than I could imagine. So I won't. I will not insult you by pretending I am suffering any level of pain like yours. I want to offer something more than that."

Varlum glanced out to specific faces for a moment, those that had talked before him and those that he recognised that may wish to speak after. "When a fortress called Storm's Edge came under siege, the people of Rharne were desperate. They were hurting, like all of you, and afraid of what might happen. But as some people here know, and saw themselves, we fought off the being that threatened them." his eyes fell to Woe at those words. Then he glanced to Oram, followed shortly by Nir'wei. "And when some Immortals planned to bring Idalos to ruin, when we were threatened by beings far more powerful than ourselves, people stood by my side and defended against all odds. No matter how weak we got, we were never knocked down for good. The people of Idalos needed us - and we defended them."

Varlum continued to glance around before finally settling his eyes on the middle of the room. "There is nothing in this world that can undo what has been done. But there are people here that have fought enemies stronger than this. Alone, when they had us separated, Scalvoris lost many. But now they have to face us together. And I think I speak for everyone when I say they won't take any more. So I might not be of Scalvoris. But I will fight to protect it as if I was. For those we lost. For those we remember."

After his speech was done Varlum sat down and listened to the rest. In his focus he felt a strange sensation, as if his body knew the time in this place was askew, perhaps in thanks to Ralaith's Mark. He could sense his Immortals energy around him. There was certainly more comfort to knowing that he had one of his own Immortals involved in a plan like this, someone he trusted with his life. If Ralaith believed in Saoire then Varlum would not argue. His wisdom was undeniable, more than even his domain would lead people to believe. But he understood Mortals, understood the world itself, and he made informed decisions off that knowledge.

With that comfort in his mind he waited for the next step, assuming that they didn't simply gather here for pleasantries.

Off Topic

Peg approved Varlum knoeing it was Ralaith messing with time! Small detail but figured I'd mention it

[Winston]

A hero with many legs

He stood in the crowd, perched on Angela's shoulder, looking and listening as the many heros and victims of Scalvaris alike came forward. He was not really sure what he himself had to offer, but far be it for him to decline an invitation to anything from Saiore and further still to decline a direct request.

As others spoke, he wondered what Woe had been up to in order to get so disheveled and what an Jacadon was, but for the time being, is a crowd so large, simply left the individuals present to speak their parts.

As such, at a moment when there was a break in the flow of people talking, he hopped down and stepped forward.

As he did, at first alone, he turned and waved at

Chest

to follow. "C'mon, mun. Yuh gat tuh com up 'ere... Tsk." He jogged back over around the back of the legged luggage and pushed against its rear.

The rather comical scene was not of a one-foot tall ferret overpowering a Chest easily more than 30 times his size, but rather of whatever reluctance the construct was feeling being overpowered by his persistence.

Whatever the reason it was hesitant, it plodded (as Winston gunted) up onto the spot where they would address those present with their own recounting of affairs as they experienced them.

He did not climb back up onto Chest this time before he began to speak. His words were filled with kindness and compassion as he described his experience of events from the perspective of the awe he felt of those around him.

"'ello. Me name es Winstaaan an' me es commin' fram Sweetsang. When de pirates attacked my 'ome, me wus very luky tuh 'ave meself a gud supply af strang friends an'... an' family wid meh dat were able tuh keep os safe. Befar me go an tuh describe what 'appened tuh me since den, me wud like tuh say..." He suppressed a lump in the back of his throat as he spoke, giving a smile to recognise the emotion for the love it held. "...Tuh say tanks. Tank yuh tuh me friend 'ere, Chest, dat cannat speak far 'imself, bot kept os safe in a way me nat share anyone else cud 'ave. Tanks tuh all de peepal dat defended os in ways me cud nate while Chest did dis. An' tanks tuh all de peepal dt 'ave 'elped me since, all in way's me cud nat do widdout dem."

He placed a hand on Chest's surface as he spoke and the construct finally seemed to settle. "Et wud be an injustice tuh name any odda specific peepal dat me 'ave met dat 'as 'elped tuh keep Scalvaris safe since ar durin' de pirate attacks, because me es certain me wud nat 'ave to faculty tuh speak every name... bot widdout every single persan, me might nat be 'ere tuhtrial an' many peepal nat as lucky as meself are in fact nat..."

He took a moment to breath before he marshalled his emotions again and proceeded. Today was not a memorial and as keenly as he felt the loss of some of the people close to him... Every person lost was a person 'close' to someone.

"During de attacks, Chest provided a safe place fram de carnage an' since den, dem as 'elped deliva fud an' relief tuh de 'ole af Scalvaris." He gestured casually with respect to Saiore as he continued and glossed over the sale of his house entirely. "Thanks very moch tuh Saiore 'erself, en de first few trials af de aftermath, we 'ave been receiving people en need an' delivering relief tuh all corna's af Scalvaris. We 'ave a traveling fud an' relief effart runnin' in co-ardination wid De Arda af Adunih. Dis es naw aparatin' under Isonomia an' providin' fud an assistance tuh anyone de needs et."

He gestured this time to

Alex

as he continued. "Ef yuh need anytn' dat Isonomia cun affa, jost let Alex ar any odda reprosentative af Isonomia know an' we will 'elp en any way we cun."

His tone took on a much more somber tone now as he referred to the pirates. "Unfartuntley, me don't 'ave moch tuh affa in de farm af new infarmatshun on de pirates ar dem's motives. 'oweva, during me time 'elpin' wid de relief effart, we gained a pictcha af de scale and locations af de attacks acrass de face af Scalvaris, which we can share openly wid anyone dat cun make use af et." And indeed,

there was a breakdown

presented very clearly by

Shinwa

for anyone that wanted it. "Tanks again far de 'elp frame everyone an' tanks far listenin' tuh me stary."

With his piece spoken, he patted Chest, thanked the crowed for listening with a little bow and returned to Angela's shoulder to continue to listen to the people and eventually to Saiore as she returned to inform everyone of what she knew.

All template credit, love and admiration goes to Pyrre Ej'qy

[Vega]

The Heart of Scalvoris

She was on Faldrass anyhow, visiting with Darius and helping out in Hopetoun. So, she came and she looked around with interest. "Heya, nice to meet you," she said to the cadouri fellow, and she glanced up at the tree. Sir Chip had given that tree, she knew, and Saoire had grown it here. That made Vega proud of her friend, proud of his kindness and his determination to always do the right thing.

As she looked around she saw the spiral of images and she thought about going there. However, she didn't. Vega had a strange relationship with death - she'd died herself, after all, but she also had a sense of the pragmatic. Going there, she considered, would be somewhat disrespectful on her part so she didn't. It didn't mean it was disrespectful for anyone else, it just would be for her because that would be how she felt. Instead, she found a place to sit and sat on the ground, listening. Some people who knew her came and spoke to her, she was polite and friendly, but she sat alone and she quite liked it that way.

Saoire came out and spoke, suggesting in her own very sweet and yet somehow compelling way, that people should talk. Woe spoke first, then Oram, Nir'wei and Kura. Then, her brother Varlum stepped forward and Vega listened. She listened to them all, each one of them and when she had heard what they all said, she watched Winston as he too spoke. Filled with pride, she stood up and moved over to the podium-thing. Speaking to people didn't bother her and Vega stood, looking at those gathered. Her eyes, swirling so many colours, met her brother's gaze and she smiled to him. The pride she had felt has he spoke was hard to put into words, but she felt it absolutely.

"My name's Vega," she said. "In Sweetsong, like Winston said, we was attacked by three ships, an' we fought them off. None of us died, but I killed a lot of people. I don't like doin' that, it's the last resort, but they were attackin' an' there were so many of them. So many people were brave that night," she said. "Winston, he protected all the people of Sweetsong, him an' his friend, Chest an' I have to echo Winston's words - I'm so grateful to Chest, an' to Winston too. They kept the ones what weren't fightin' safe, so those of us what were could focus. Sir Chip, the knight who gave that tree to Saoire, he defeated an attack from behind, savin' us. Jasper - he were everywhere it seemed an' he didn't stop jus' focused an' flew an' protected Sweetsong."

She paused for a moment and looked around. "I feel guilty. For every one o' those people over there what died. I feel guilty because I weren't there to save them." She looked then at Woe, Oram, Nir'wei, Kura and her brother. "It's been said up here a lot, in different ways. I feel guilty because I did my best an' still people died." She spoke, as Vega always did, from the heart. "However, most of what I feel, more than guilty, is hope." It came with the territory of being Xiur's champion she supposed, but there it was. "Because you know, what I see here is people who do their best every trial. In every way we can. An' what I know is that time an' time again that's undefeatable. " It was true. "It's what makes Scalvoris what it is"

As for what she'd done since? "I've done some investigatin', some talkin' to pirates an' findin' out stuff. I know a few things, an' I've passed that on to Kura who's been workin' to help everyone." That wasn't important. not to her. "You know, it'd be well easy to focus on Saoire, on Kura, on those who fought or those who've investigated. An' it's right that we should say thank you to those folks. But I want you to consider somethin'. Consider turnin' to the person next to you an' thankin' them for what they did that night, an' for bein' here an' for doin' their best. Thank them an' mean it." She gave a slight smile. "An' when they thank you back, believe that you've earned that thanks." She moved away then and she made her way to Varlum, her brother.

She didn't say anything for a moment, just looked at him and then she smiled. "Wotcha," she said. "You doin' ok?" Whatever his answer she spoke, honestly. "I'm right grateful you're in this world, Varlum. Thanks. For what you did that night an' all the nights before an' all those yet to come. Thank you."

[Balthazar Black]

40 Ymiden 723

"I don't mind, just put it back when you're done." Balthazar said to the child who'd taken one of the training swords from the Black Cats storage. As soon as the boy was caught he had tried to explain the nature of some game he and his friends were playing. Not all twenty five settlers were adults. Some were parts of families. Children. Some trials it was inspiring to see the families coming together and the friendships building between their children. Some trials it was a reminder of everything that was still missing. Balthazar tried to make sure that he was there for both the good and the bad. He'd stretched his legs and it didn't turn out how he thought it would so he tried to focus on the settlers and keeping them happy until he could fix the larger problems.

"Are you sure you want to let the children play with swords?" Robin approached Balthazar from behind carrying a letter. The young man who'd taken the training sword was already out of earshot.

"They're not children anymore. Especially him. They celebrated his aging four trials ago. He's old enough to hold a sword now. Besides, it's made of soft wood." Balthazar replied as he turned to assess what Robin was bringing to him on this trial. There was always something to do or work on but Balthazar had to admit that managing the settlers again was a bit of a distraction. Even with the Black Cats around to help, ensuring stronger security than they'd had in Haven, managing people in this sort of setting was not something Balthazar had a lot of experience with. He'd lead a settlement. He'd lead a mercenary company. Now he was trying to hold together something that walked the line between both of those things while being unable to find the one person he really wanted to find- his missing wife.

He had to work hard not to let his fear and thoughts about Elisabeth's disappearance cloud his judgement and actions. The great discipline and calm which had once been so dedicated to managing his sparks now focused more singularly on blocking thoughts he couldn't bare to think. Doubt and despair could quickly become deep pits that trapped you if you didn't stop digging and Balthazar was trying not to pick up a shovel. "What's that?" He asked Robin with a gesture towards the letter in his hands. Robin held it out for Balthazar to take and read, which due to his mutations meant that they started walking around the building again so the letters wouldn't float around the page.

Robin explained as Balthazar read it, "It's from Saoire's school, regarding the attacks." He said, "She's invited you to the school and enclosed a trinket for you to open a portal there with. Lyanna and I could come with you if you'd like support... considering everything... but Croft won't go. He's busy organizing the meals for the next ten-trials."

"I'll be alright going alone." Balthazar said. He supposed he would need to get used to being alone again if he couldn't find her. "I'll open the portal in my office, look after the others until I return." Balthazar turned to cross the gym and enter his office but Robin stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

"Do you think she knows something we don't?" He asked. Balthazar took a breath and nodded.

"She's an Immortal... so, yes. I have to go."

And he did. Balthazar returned to his office and changed into somewhat nicer but still dark clothing before using Saoire's trinket to open a portal to her school on Faldrass. As soon as he emerged through the portal, he could feel Fuego beside him. "Excited to be home?" Balthazar asked the diri who jumped slightly in confirmation before taking off to explore around Saoire's school. Horatio found Balthazar and guided him inside as he had done with all the others who had arrived but the caudori's somber attitude didn't help to improve Balthazar's. Perhaps he should have eaten one of the candies that Saoire had given him all that time ago. Artificial happiness was still happiness and now he could share his emotions with those around him- not that it is always a good thing.

He noticed the food on the table first and the familiar faces around him second. He recognized and knew where Kura was during the attacks but not the others. Oddly, he didn't feel the same sense of curiosity as he normally did. He didn't want to ask them anything, just Saoire. Then his attention was shifted to the spiral dais with the portraits of everyone who'd died in the attack. Crow, his diri of death, stood in his manifested form looking up at the portraits. Balthazar moved to stand beside the diri of death and let his eyes scan over all the names and faces. He recognized some due to his memory. Not many were friends but he'd seen them in passing. Others he recalled from his time with the Elements. He didn't see the one face he was really looking for. It should have been a relief but not knowing was harder than grieving.

Balthazar lingered by the dais for the majority of the time before the speeches began. He wasn't in the mood to socialize despite the many familiar faces around him. He didn't even ask about Dweezle. He just looked at the drawn faces of the dead and let the weight of failure drag down his mood. It got worse when he saw the faces of the dead from Haven. Most were missing but some had indeed been killed. Seeing those drawings... wasn't great for Balthazar.

The world around him grew quiet and for a moment Balthazar thought it was because he was getting lost in thought but it was, in fact, because Saoire had taken to the podium to speak. Balthazar shifted away from the dais of the dead and stood in the back rather than sitting in one of the many different options. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the nearest wall. Fuego returned to Balthazar's side to watch Saoire and Crow began to circle above them- watching out for danger as always. None of them expected danger but none of them would be caught unprepared again. Invitations from Immortal had a fifty fifty rate of leading to chaos or a festive gathering of sorts. Saoire tended to be an outlier in that equation.

He liked her for that. Vri, Ilaren, even Qylios- they were mortals who he respected for different reasons. Vri's concepts were central to much of his heart. Sorrow, love, death, and remembrance. Ilaren's concepts were central to much of his actions. Brawling, sound, alcohol, and lightning. Qylios was the immortal he didn't expect and yet her concepts aligns with his actions as well. Bonds, leadership, courage, and as much as he might have disagreed- light. He didn't feel he met any of Saoire's domains but he liked her- it wasn't just respect, he liked her because she felt the most human among her kind. Even Tio, who had been one of them in the time Balthazar knew him, was not the same as Saoire. She held events. She had a school. She was involved and always for a kind reason. It was not the same with the rest. In Yaralon, when Immortals got involved, worshipped as they were, things went sour. Perhaps it was similar in Rharne, but wasn't Ilaren leading there? Saoire didn't run Scalvoris. She just helped.

Balthazar stayed in the back, as said earlier, but he listened to everything Saoire said. It was still strange how she managed to make it seem like she was talking directly to you when she was addressing a crowd. She confirmed what he knew already about what the pirates were looking for. He hadn't found it but he'd been places where the pirates had searched and seen the aftermath. He wasn't sure he wanted to go up and speak. He wasn't sure that he had it in his heart not to drag everything down. Some might have known about what he had done for other reasons, but he had learned more than most in the public would know. Unfortunately the thing that hung most prominently in his mind was the one thing he never wanted to vocalize. His wife was missing. Haven's leader. He couldn't find her and now he was leading the people again- if it could be called leading. He was housing them and protecting them... but it didn't feel like enough.

He let go of his thoughts when the first speaker came up to talk to those who had gathered. Saoire had asked for stories about what they'd done in the moment of the attack and time since. One by one, different familiar faces came up and spoke. Woe was the first. He spoke of Faith Augustin and her death during the attack. It was still strange to think she was gone. Balthazar didn't know her but he knew what people said about her. Woe gave more of a eulogy than a report on what had happened but Balthazar didn't mind. He said he would never pay his debt to the world and Balthazar considered, for a moment, the idea that neither of them owed the world anything. Only a moment. He was frustrated with the world... but he was more frustrated with the pirates.

Oram came up to speak next and he addressed what had happened in Darbyton. Balthazar was aware of the attacks due to the number of maps that he had found but it was always good to get a direct account from someone who'd seen the aftermath. Unfortunately it seemed that Oram did not fare much better in his investigations than Balthazar had in his own. That was probably why Saoire had gathered them now but... why wait so long? Oram finished speaking and the next went up. Balthazar lingered where he was despite knowing he would have to speak eventually. He didn't feel moved to do so yet.

Nir'wei came up to speak and Balthazar's brow furrowed slightly. He didn't know how to feel about someone who'd left him for dead at least once in recent memory. Granted, he wasn't sure that there were many people left outside of the Black Cats who wouldn't have done the same. Nir'wei mention Haven and the furrowing of brows turned into a deeper scowl. He couldn't reasonably blame Nir'wei, but part of him did. It wasn't Nir'wei's fault. By his report he had done the best he could- yet in Balthazar's mind the man's concept of 'best he could do' included abandoning your allies and trying to trap them in a labyrinth because they didn't listen to you. Nothing happening to Haven now was Nir'wei's fault- but Balthazar couldn't help but think he should have fought harder. It was the same delusional thought process which allowed him to think he could have stopped it all if he had been there. Guilt and regret were dangerous things because they often lead to lashing out in people like Balthazar. Nir'wei spoke of helping Hopetoun after the attack, but not Haven. No. Balthazar knew what had become of Haven. Even with that knowledge, he felt... angry. It wasn't fair to those around him.

Kura was next. She was the one he recognized the most because until the Haven settlers landed at his doorstep he had been working with her through letters to uncover what had happened. She had been there during the attack as well. Perhaps her speaking meant that he would not have to. His name came from her mouth quickly and he knew his chance to avoid speaking was gone. If only she had simply said the things they found. He didn't need the credit. Not now. It wasn't what he wanted from this. Kura summarized much of what Balthazar would have said and he was grateful for it but she had also mentioned the Heart of Scalvoris and made Balthazar uncertain. How much were they going to reveal in this public setting? Regardless, he was grateful she had spoken before him and immensely terrified. He hadn't notified her of what stalled him. She didn't know why he had never come to the meeting he asked for.

By the time Varlum was speaking, and indeed Winston and Vega after him, Balthazar had spiraled so far into his own thoughts that he hardly heard the people who were speaking. He did hear them, and certain things stood out to him, but he was too caught up with trying to determine if he was going to say what had happened to Haven or not. He didn't want his wife's disappearance to reflect poorly on her, but he also couldn't pretend that he could handle it all. He had needed her and without her...

Eventually he had go up to the podium and speak. He didn't actually have to, but he had to. "I am Balthazar Black. As others have said, I was in Almund during the attacks. I worked with Kura to repel the pirates and recover the hostages they had. We were beset on all sides by masked cowards wielding unknown power. I do not believe anyone who attacked Almund was from Scalvoris. The only evidence I have is that Vri's ensures I remember every face I have seen and when I removed their masks, I had never seen them before." Balthazar paused. This wasn't what he needed to report. He was venting. He couldn't figure out where he was going with his report. "Kura has already told you what happened in Almund... so I'll skip that and save you the time." Another pause, "After the attack I remained in Almund and worked with the Black Cats to restore as many of the buildings as possible while also investigating the attack. I searched the wreckage of the ships and reported the information I found to the Albarech. I have since then investigated multiple sites, including the Watch and the Mountains, where the pirates were searching for this 'Heart' but it doesn't seem they found it anywhere they looked." Oh shit, now he had to mention Haven... or did he? He didn't want to. How could he avoid it? List the buildings he fixed? No... that felt wrong. Oh damn, he had paused again. "Shortly after the attacks the survivors from Haven found me in Almund and I've been protecting them there since." He didn't mention Elisabeth. He'd say as much as he could but he wouldn't say that. "I am working with the Black Cats to recover the settlers from Haven who were taken or are missing and I will find them."

That was all he said. Inconclusive and incomplete but his focus was assured. What happened after he found all the missing settlers was an issue for another trial and it was an issue he felt he would have little choice in.

[Bao Bao]

Quietly, Bao prayed in the glass temple. Being here was different now. It used to be a place he came to see his friend and pray with others. But that friend was no longer here. More than that, people who had once simply prayed with Bao looked to him for guidance and comfort as the new High Priest. Somehow, despite accepting the offer to run this temple, Bao felt as if he didn't belong. What was a man like him doing leading anyone? He had far less experience than so many others, seen so much less of the world. But perhaps that wasn't what mattered. He couldn't be sure if he was the best fit for the job, but he knew one thing for sure. He wouldn't walk away while people needed him.

That wasn't his way.

While sat in silence Bao opened his eyes to see a letter addressed to him resting on the ground before him. There was a moment of immediate recognition as he looked directly at it, knowing who it was from as a soft smile spread across his face. There was never a day that hearing from Saoire didn't make it better. As much as he struggled to bring a smile to his own face lately it didn't mean that a letter from his mother wasn't a welcome sight. Upon opening it, however, he saw an invitation to go see her. There was no hesitation to his mind about if he would attend or not. If Saoire wanted him there he would appear, no matter what it took.

So he rose to his feet, preparing to take the portal that was offered. As he arrived he found himself in a familiarly beautiful place, greeted by a fellow Cadouri. While Bao still gave a warm greeting to his Cadouri friend it was far from his usual over excitement at reuniting with another of his people. Now was a difficult time to be excited for anything. That was found to be further true by the memorials to each person in the garden around them, something Bao decided not to put himself through right now. Praying every day for those lost was enough, looking at their face would only hurt him more. Until he knew what Saoire needed him for he had to remain focused.

So when Saoire appeared and started to speak Bao listened intently, relieved to see his mother was alive and well. Immortals were far from invincible and Bao was grateful she had not been one of the targets killed. She was a pacifist like him after all, fighting back was not in her nature.

As it came time to listen to everyone speak that was what Bao did, he listened. Each of them spoke of what they had seen, some spoke of what they had fought, but all of them had witnessed the same aftermath Bao had. He recognised some of the speakers, too. Woe, who he'd met in the glass temple. Oram, the first person he talked to upon arriving on Idalos. Vega, who he'd met as part of a different gathering of Saoire's. Winston, a felloe Cadouri and an old friend. Many people spoke and each of them had their own tale, their own outlook.

Then there was quiet.

The quiet shuffling of feet was the noise that followed as Bao made his way to the stand, wearing his own high priest robes that anyone who knew him well would notice were new and looked identical to the ones Stan used to wear. "Thank you to everyone who shared their stories before mine - and thank you for listening to my own" he spoke with a soft tone, loud enough for all to hear but still speaking calmly. "I was not home when the pirates attacked. I didn't witness the fighting, so I could not help. Something I truly regret. But when I witnessed the destruction and heard news of what happened I ran straight to the people I love. Neighbors and friends. Almost all of them, thank the Immortals, were okay. All but one."

Each word was laced with an undertone of sadness as he spoke, his small face looking at the podium, unable to look at the crowd as his heart raced in his chest. "Any of you that knew Stan will understand the loss his life is to Scalvoris. All of the people he helped. If he had survived he would be here now, showing support to all, before returning to the glass temple to support any there. But he isn't. No matter how often I look for him, he never arrives. Never comes to tell me that he was simply hiding. It's a feeling I'm…not familiar with. Death and loss."

Eventually Bao raised his eyes and let out a soft sigh, fighting back tears, letting only a small few drop down his furry cheek. "But this is not the end. Saoire used to tell me, when I was small and would tumble out of trees, that I had to climb again. Even if it hurt, I had to climb just once more before I stopped for the day. I never used to understand why. But now I see that she didn't want me to grow afraid, or to let the last time I climbed be the time I fell. So now, perhaps, we have fallen…"

"But we will not stop until we have climbed again."

With that sentiment shared Bao wiped his eyes and walked away from the podium, stopping only to look to Saoire for a moment and nod. Had the situation been different he would have run to her and hugged her, just for the comfort of having her there. But not now. He would find comfort in the people around him and their shared determination instead. Not one person here would let the pirates get away with this. Some of them were willing to fight, others like himself were people of peace. But they shared a goal. So if Bao knew one thing for certain? These pirates had attacked the wrong island.