Log:Reclaiming Voidlight
Count Frayus explains a troubling situation to his daughter's friends and allies
OOC Date: November 6, 2015 (Optional)
Location: Castle Frayus, Delaya
Participants: Nora Frayus, Bors Thul, Rune, Ulani Kalgaav, Yuun, Corto
Log
[ Nora Frayus (Nora) ]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
While the exterior of Castle Frayus is an imposing, oppressive monolith of stone and ancient architecture, the interior seems to have been... elevated to provide modern comforts. Hearths burn in most open chambers, hardwood lines most floors, and the stone castle walls have been framed with additional wood to provide shelving for decor, old (actual) books, and weaponry. And there is a lot of weaponry. Swords, daggers, axes, and polearms -- all fashioned from souls long gone belonging to the once Noble House Frayus. Those that were able to be taken from Alderaan before the calamity, that is.
The hallway that Nora leads the Jedi and her Alderaanian friends down contains a good amount of displays, as well as portraits of those who had fashioned them. Some seem considerably old, but some seem somewhat more recent. The colors on the latter are brighter, more vivid, and the styles seem... mature. Modern. Contemporary. But these things are cyclical, and some day, these will be the antiques. A small wall contains portraits of young children, though none of them appear to have weapons beside them.
"To those gone too soon. A gemstone that is never refined is beautiful within its own right. Pure, if there is such a thing in the galaxy we live in." Scrawled on the wall beneath the portraits.
"I am very grateful to you all for coming. It is a... tender subject. My father will be irritable," she says. Ulani and Bors know his typical demeanor, so this is not only a warning to the Jedi who have not met him, but also to those Alderaanians that have.
"And... let us leave out mention of the force tonight, hmmmh? Another tender subject, and I think we would do well to avoid treading on two in one evening." Several servants have attended to those that have gathered, and two butlers await at double doors to let the party into Count Corwen Frayus' study. The one on the right, a man in his fifties with a rather dapper moustache, leans in to give a soft kiss to Nora's cheek. The woman returns one in kind to his.
"Tread lightly, Little Light," he says. Nora smiles, nods, and pushes the door open.
Corwen Frayus is seated on the far end of the room, a snifter of brandy in his hand. The caramel-brown liquid swirls as he rolls it, his dark eyes sitting behind thick brows. Fire reflects in those inky black pools and he slowly turns his head over his shoulder to see his daughter, and those accompanying her.
"Nora Lin," his voice booms. A dusky, growly sort of sound. His free hand strokes his beard and he rises from his chair to greet those she's arrived with. It is politeness with an absolute void of kindness.
"You do keep such..." his eyes turn to Bors and Ulani, and he chuckles a touch. Then to the other two, who he doesn't recognize. "Unique company."
[ Bors Thul (BT) ]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
The silvered gray of Bors's clothes reflect dark, nearly black as his cloak, whilst he sweeps along - golden rimmed monocle pinched before his eye glittering like the bit of gray wending its way through his temples and parts of the rakish scruff of the 'I forgot to shave again' shadow along his chin and jaw.
"Oh! Count Corwen! How delightful, as ever, to see you set and hale." the butler droid that follows the Thul Lord carrying a tray with wine flutes and a bottle that the pilot takes with a casual air before he continues, "But that you can be as such to make us all gravitate on such a day. How find thee, Good Count? Hale as the cover of the book that we see? Doth thy mind bend towards trouble? Good Count, greetings again and again I say and hope you have not found thine self twisted round thyself and gaze nakedly on joy rather sorrow!" the grin, so much like his sister's, at full wattage now and his cape is moved away from his chest with a flourishing movement of his arm.
"But if the latter I would have thee speak it, so as to aid in balm to be found, yes?"
[ Rune (R)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Rune is slowly getting used to the splendor of the company he sometimes keeps but regardless of what he has seen before, the homey nature coupled with the elegance of the entire interior of the castle has the young Padawan marveling at each turn. Of particular interest is the lines of weaponry, and though he wishes desperately to reach out and touch each, he at least has the sense of self to refrain.
He turns to the group when Nora speaks, an eyebrow cresting at the mention of tender subjects one of which he's unfamiliar, the other his entire being. Rune looks to his clothing and, in one motion, removes the black metal cylinder from his belt to hide away in a large pouch at his waist. Nothing can be done about the robes he wears, he just hopes the dusky browns and blacks won't call too much to mind of a Jedi and more in line with wear of comfort.
Once the doors to the study are opened and the lot pass through, Rune gives a nod of greeting to the two butlers that wait outside, a small smile accompanying that genuine gesture. Though inside, there is a much more commanding presence that greets them at the other end of the room, Nora's father, the Count, and the purpose of their visit. "Good evening, Count Corwen. I am Rune Ysanna, a companion of your daughters and uh..." don't mention being a Jedi... "...an errant explorer." he finishes, lips parting in a wide, hopefully, winsome smile.
[ Ulani Kalgaav (Ula)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Ulani has come dressed... well. Not to the nines. More to the fives or sixes. An appropriately understated silver and black dress accented with red and gold embroidered filigree predominantly at the bust and thinning out well into the skirt. She had come in with a light, breezy cloak to match though that had been graciously retrieved from her at the butler droid that is studiously following Bors. Definitely and only following Bors.
She offers a dip of her head towards the Court; not the bowing flourish she ought to have done. The older man definitely throws her off every single time she has come across him. Something overbearing and judgemental. It's almost like being in the presence of her own father again -- yet somehow more intimidating. No words from her because she can't think of any. Thankfully, her beaux, whom she remains next to, has words to spare for them both.
[ Yuun (Yun)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
This is Yuuns first time here, and honestly he didn't mind being here. He was here to help a friend, though as they walk his head moves about looking at whatever he can see. A look of wonder and a smile shows on his face. Though when Nora speaks up telling them to be careful on what not to say and Jedi things, he gives a quick nod. He's not even dressed traditionally like a Jedi but then again, does he ever?
Waiting and as the doors to the study opens, Yuun makes sure he's the last to walk in. Bowing his head to the butlers. As he makes it inside, he waits his turn to speak and as he does he bows to the court, "Hello and good evening, my name is Yuun, another companion of your daughter, as well as an Explorer." he says making sure not to mention anything she asked them not to.
[ Nora Frayus (Nora)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Nora Frayus is certainly Corwen's daughter. Though not nearly as tall as him, she has inherited his height. Some of his mannerisms, too. How Corwen's hand seems to always thumb at the hilt of the dagger at his hip, so too does Lady Nora's hand rest on her sword. They both treat the weapons as objects of comfort -- things to be held for self-soothing in times of varying stress. Notable, then, that both of their hands are currently doing precisely that.
"Father," Nora says, with an elegant dip of her head. Corwen nods in return, but turns his dark eyes towards those that have gathered.
"Bors. You look well as always," comes that gravely voice. Members of House Frayus are... curt. Nora might have some flower to her diction, but Corwen's words remain clipped. He doesn't acknowledge the other man's question. Not yet, at least. When Ulani doesn't quite stick the landing on his greeting, Corwen certainly -notices-. Of course he does. But there isn't a hint of it on his face. Just a nod to the young woman as well. "And it is always a pleasure to see you as well," he says.
Those he does not recognize are given a touch more scrutiny. A considerable touch. Like a push down a flight of stairs, really. Rune and Yuun are given a cold reception that matches his daughter's eyes, and the hand on his dagger slowly pulls, drawing steel from leather. He places the tip to his thumb and gives it a slow twirl as the two introduce themselves.
"Rune. Yuun. Explorers and companions. How..." he turns to look at Nora, who holds his gaze, steely. "Charming."
"Father, you -know- why I'm here. Why -we're- here," Nora says, and Corwen gives a huff of air. "You want help. Let me help. Let -us- help," she says, imploring.
Her Father's eyes settle on her for a moment and, at least currently, Corwen seems... hesitant to supply further details.
"Capricious," he says, and then turns those dark eyes to Nora's companions. He seems irritated, but not entirely closed off. "And what would my daughter's... companions... care to know, hmmm?"
[ Rune (R)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
The Ysannan Jedi was no stranger to hostility, though usually it was in the form of someone bearing a physical weapon, he'll be the first to admit this new attack with words was something he was wholly unaccustomed to. Nevertheless, Rune wasn't one to defer to another simply because society had informed him he should, there was no caste system in the wilds of Ossus. Respect earned was respect shown and he gives a smile as terse as the Count's comment.
"I might say that, considering what is needed in the circumstance we find ourselves here for, explorers are quite possibly just what you need." the Padawan remarks, his smile brimming into something with a bit more self-confidence. Rune listens to Bors' offer, nodding in kind to his offer of service. "Do you know who possesses the Forge at this time, where we might be able to locate it, or at least a starting place to follow a trail to its location?"
[ Ulani Kalgaav (Ula)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Eek. Ulani stiffens just a little bit more. Yes, she knows she flubbed that and no, she can't tell that the Count noticed. But she /knows/ he did and tries to make up for it with another attempt. This time, she gets the bow pretty darn well. "A pleasure, Count Frayus." As for the Forge... "You've a great many talents standing in front of you. From skilled explorers and defenders of the New Republic to servants dedicated to the preservation and progress of Alderaan. If we can at all assist, I imagine the best question first would be what you are needing in regards to regaining what is lost? Then we can go from there."
[ Yuun (Yun)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Yuun watches the exchange, he watches as Nora speaks with her father and and how he responds to his daughter. Though when his eyes land on him and Rune, he could sense the coldness, and this is something that he's used to. You get used to people looking down on you or trying to intimidate you a lot in the Undercity of Coruscant, especially the swoop gangs, death stick dealers and so on. With the work his parents did for them and some on the above levels when they wanted very good work done discreetly, they came to them.
Inwardly he smiles at Rune, proud of the Padawan as he speaks, "Yes, like my friend has said, we are who you are needing." he says. He doesn't say much else, he wasn't worried about the dagger, not at all, especially after all that he's dealt with. Though Yuun isn't one to underestimate anyone, he gives a polite bow of his head to the Lord.
[ Nora Frayus (Nora)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Count Corwen's frosty disposition is not a difficult one to thaw. As the others begin to speak, he continues to gently nudge the tip of his knife into the pad of his thumb. It is a rough, calloused hand, and the knife is able to bite at a good amount of flesh before it yields fruit. A single drop of ruby red blood that Corwen wipes away on the top of his forefinger, smearing the pale flesh. He brings the weight of the blade down into the table he's passing now, a rough -CHUNK- sound. Many other tears in that wooden antique might hint at decades of such callous treatment.
"Nora. A bottle of min'quitour," he says, and Nora nods her head, glancing over her shoulders to the others with a look that hints that this might be an encouraging sign.
"I admit that I am not one who asks for help," Corwen says. His tall form moves around the table and he stoops low enough to remove the bottle that he'd spoken of from a refrigerated shelf just behind his study. That reflective metal of the blade casts a warm, orange glow across the room -- scattering the light from the fire. Shattering it into metallic edges.
"But this is... vexing. To be sure," he says, and thumps the bottle down onto the desk before leaning his bulk against it. Nora is handing out glasses to everybody else. They are shallow, wide bowled stemware. Crystalline. They'd be perfect, were it not for tiny clouds of pink that puff up in irregular lattices within their shape. This is what makes them expensive.
"The Voidlight Forge was destroyed on Alderaan. Its flame burned for thousands of years, and when the Empire's war machine..." his voice trails off, and he shakes his head. "We lost something precious to us. Our House, Our People," he explains. He lifts the dagger from the desk and starts to remove the goldfoil from around the neck of the bottle, head canted to the side as he speaks.
"We rebuilt it here on Delaya, and I will not lose it again. Her fires will burn for another thousand years," he murmurs, and this is where his face takes on a somewhat different structure. It's a mixture of... uncertainty, trepidation and, if one is particularly keen to read it. Fear.
"But there have been troubling reports in the woods of late. Sounds in the dark. Voices within the mountains. I have men -- good men -- who will not venture near Voidlight. No one will. And when we ask them why they will not go... well, their answer is always the same," he says. He hands the bottle to Nora, who takes a few steps away from him after passing out all of the glasses.
"The voices at night. The ones that -want- them to go into the mountains. I admit that I have... I have heard them myself," he says.
[ Bors Thul (BT)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
"We are who you are... needing." lifting his monocle from his eye to clean it and look towards Yuun with a lengthening expression on his face. "Curious choice of wording, sirrah." a moment taken to wet his lips and check the status of his eyepiece before it is placed back again. Listening to Corwen's explanation and notions of voices in the dark.
"Voices... Hrm. I suspect some would blame some emanation from the force; I'd be more keen to assume it someone playing at superstition to get an advantage." left brow arching high. "But as said, Good Count - if you wish to enlist the aid of Aldera; it is Alderaan's squadron, not any single houses. If you wish to utilize my own range of talents, I am certain my dear Sister would grant leave, eh?" Bors looks to the stemware handed to him, them the wine flute in his other hand... then sips from both..
[ Ulani Kalgaav (Ula)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
"Voices?" Her eyes look to Nora immediately and then to Yuun and Rune: all resident Jedi though she's not allowed to say that out loud. While Bors takes the logical route of assuming it's some crafty ploy to either lure people to their doom or to effectively scare them away, Ulani is more likely to believe it is something else entirely. "I've read stories as a girl about such things. But they were... I mean. I thought they were just spooky tales to scare your friends and the like." But. It is a big, big galaxy. "Are those woods particularly known to be hostile? Has any parties gone in and failed to return?"
[ Rune (R)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Usually when a dagger is flung into a table, it doesn't herald good tidings, especially after the point is ground in one's hand enough to draw blood. But the glance from Nora would suggest otherwise and Rune gives a quick but hesitant smile of encouragement to her before she offs to fetch the requested bottle.
"Many do not enjoy asking for help, I will also admit to being of that kind. Some feel that to ask for assistance is a thing of weakness. In my view, though I do not always follow this belief, it is a show of strength. Having a sense of mind to know one's self, one's abilities, and the proper time to seek those who might have skills that could assist." Rune remarks, accepting one of the glasses Nora presents to the group, his hazel eyes finding the impurities in the glasses. He's uncultured enough to not know the wealth of such things, instead the pink imperfections look enchanting to the eye.
The further remarks of the trouble the Count has encountered has Rune's eyes shifting to the rest of the crew present, an eyebrow lifting in wonder of what the whispers may be. Bors' comments have him wincing slightly, the second of the things they were not to mention being called forth as a possibility for what is heard. Though, with all probability, he might be correct. There have been a number of awakenings in the Force recently, both good and bad, and the young Padawan would not put it past another dark emergence.
The final questions Ulani poses has Rune nodding, similar wonderings having crossed his mind to whether parties have been lost or if the crews were just too afraid to enter. "If the Voidlight were in the mountains, would they not wish to drive them away?" He asks, eyebrow lifting higher than before. "Also, and I apologize for my unfamiliarity with the subject and particulars, could the Voidlight itself be something that would be corrupted, misused, made to serve a darker purpose?" A hand is twirled with the idea that his last statement is a fantasy supposition, "If such things are possible in the galaxy, that is."
[ Yuun (Yun)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Yuun is quiet for the time being, listening and taking in everything that is being said. He does watch as the dagger is flung into the table. As he takes in the information being provided, Yuun looks over to Bors as he speaks to him about his choice of words.
When Corwen speaks about voices, Yuun's attention focuses on the Count. As Ulani ask questions about the woods being hostile, then Rune speaking up, the Jedi Knight just listens, thinking on if this could this be the Force, the dark side, or possibly a force spirit. Those questions do circle in his mind.
[ Corto (Ct)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Thump. Thump. Thump. Tree trunk legs served as the harbinger for a man who couldn't pull off a quiet entrance even if he tried. Walking down the hall and into the room was none other than the hulking frame of the Drifter, who's appearance here was as out-of-place as a paintbrush on a shrimp farm. Lateness was usually an act of style, but in this case it was merely the happenstance of a lengthier-than-normal power-down process of the vessel that brought them here. One that Corto was all too happy to address, to get a few moments of solitude before the battle to come.
There was no shred of nobility to his attire. He still bore the worn leathers and fraying poncho of a simple and practical man suited to the wilds. He hadn't even doffed his wide-brimmed hat. Rude.
"We'll go," rumbledrawled the Feeorin, honest, blunt, and appealing directly to decisive action. His voice was akin to gravel moving through magma and slightly impeded by the unlit cigarra sticking out of his teeth. "Ain't nothin' voices need more'n a good conversation. Voidlight'll be safe in your care by the time we're done."
[ Nora Frayus (Nora)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Corwen, for all his skulking and dour countenance, looks gratefully around as those questions begin to flow from the others in the room with him. It seems as if a tremendous weight is being lifted from his broad shoulders, and the man grows more and more comfortable with each passing moment. Perhaps their acceptance -- or at least not outright dismissal -- of the claims of his men and himself is significant to the man. "Thank you, Lord Thuul. Our Houses do not always see..." he pauses, and turns to look Bors directly in his eyes now, "Eye to eye. And yet... perhaps, in some things, with the hope of peace at the gates, we can. You have House Frayus' gratitude."
Nora has that bottle pointed away form the group. The bulk of it is balanced in her left hand, and her right hand has drawn her blade from its sheath to run its edge along the seam where the glass is fused together. One stroke.
-Shinggg!-
--POP!--
The bottle is sabered open, and Nora turns to pour each member of those who accompanied them a glass of the rare vintage.
"Wherever there are humans, there are stories about the woods," Corwen says to Ulani as Nora is pouring her her own glass of sparkling white wine. "But these woods have always been quiet. If any spirits did exist there, they were peaceful. I am a man of superstition, which is why I went there myself. I needed to hear them," he says. His lips thin. Nora turns to begin pouring some wine for Rune now. Right into that delicate, crystalline glass.
Corwen shakes his head.
"The Voidlight Forge is just a name. An ancient and sacred one to us, but the fire that burns within it is the same as burns within these candles," he says with a grand gesture to the many candle-lit sconces and pillars about the room. He appears as if he's about to speak just as Nora fills up Yuun's glass, and then there's a -thumping- sound as well as a muffled noise of insistence from the butlers outside.
"Sir, please, you mustn't... the Count... he's!"
But it's no use. Corto steps into the study, and Corwen's hand returns to his dagger. He looks towards Nora's head, which is currently turned away and offering Corto a glass as well as some sparkling wine. He looks... exasperated. But any edge of it is tempered by fatigue and gratitude.
"These voices do not seek conversation," Corwen says, his fingers relaxing on the grip of his blade. "The things they speak I would never repeat. But I am grateful to have your assistance. And to you, Daughter. For bringing them here," he says.
Nora is pouring herself a glass now that everyone else has been served, and quietly folds her arms over her stomach to look to her Father. She would be skeptical. Doubtful. But there's something about his face. This is all terribly serious.
"We will see to it, Father. The Forge will remain lit and whatever malady that plagues these woods will be dealt with. These are good people. My friends," Nora says, and Corwen chuckles a little laugh. He sips from his cup and turns to look back towards the fire.
"We shall see," he says. "You are free to remain in the study. Discuss amongst yourselves. Form a plan," he says, and begins to move from the study with a dismissing wave. "It is time for Lady Luci's poetry reading, and your Mother will see me sleeping in those woods if I am not in attendance. And the rest of you," he says, and pauses. "You have the gratitude of House Frayus, and myself personally."
With that, he takes his leave.
