Meeting with the Grand Master

[Glenn]

Ill tidings abound throughout the land: dreams, demons, fiends, war, worse. Glenn Burnie is officially Surveyor of Myrken Wood. His official tasks fall upon the lines one would imagine with such a title. For instance, he mapped out the dimensions of the Myrkenwall.

Unofficially, Glenn serves a much broader role. When Calomel does not know something, he tries to learn it. When Calomel does not know someone, he tries to meet him. When Calomel cannot be bothered with something, he tries to handle it. It is, in short a role that he is greviously underexperienced to fulfill. Unfortunately, there is no one else, willing, that Calomel seems to trust it to. No one else had stepped forward.

This is why he has just stabled his horse with the Shepherd Knights of the Silver Staff. This is why he was heading towards Malaroth's office now. When Calomel, in his desire to fix everything at once, burns a bridge, Glenn attempts to rebuild it. Sometimes he even succeeds. Here, his goal was slightly different.

"Burnie." The voice that called to him seemed to be in the midst of a change. It was different from when the mapmapker had last heard it.

That fact was not lost on Glenn. He seemed amused by it. "Squire Elliot, right? Sir Silent's..."

"Sir Storth." The boy, who seemed to be on the verge of being more properly labeled a young man grumbled insistantly. "Show some respect. Why are you here?" Elliot may have been an optimistic, idealistic lad, but just like any other squire, he was rather possessive of the order. It was necessary as of late, what with weird magic teachers and DROW roaming the halls. Oh yes, Elliot was a Myrken boy, born and bred. He knew that the proper place for a drow was at the END of a knight's sword, not holding one high.

Glenn looked at him sideways. He had to be kidding. "Governor's business, Elliot."

"Oh?" A frown. There was more than a little doubt there. "I've heard some things about the governor lately. I've heard that.."

Oh great. He had to defend Calomel's good name and he hadn't even gotten to Malaroth yet. This was just going smashingly. "Isn't one of the tenets of your knighthood to only believe what you see and not what you hear."

Elliot blinked. "No."

Uh... huh. That was... fine! "Well... Well... it should be!" It was too early to get exasperated, too, too early.

Glenn pushed past the squire, marched down the hall, and finally knocked upon Malaroth's door. Glenn had lived in the Chapter House for over a month. there had been an offer for him to stay there permanently. Combined with his current position, it gave him a bit of freedom to walk about, no matter what squires might think. "Ser Malaroth? It is Glenn Burnie. Do you have some time to speak about the Ashfiend and the plans against him? I think you'll find this important." He couldn't well make things WORSE, or at least not easily. That was always reassuring.

[ShadowRose]

"Ah, Glenn.. what a terrible misfortune to run into you here." came a voice lilted in darkness, the svelte owner stepping up beside the door and leaning against its frame. The light frosting of blue fell on him then, dark and full lips blossoming into the ruse of a wide smile. "And what brings you to the Grand Master's door, mapmaker? It is my hope that you are not here to cause trouble."

[Glenn]

"Official business." Glenn's words were cold, curt. "Not personal. Confidential." This was Glenn Burnie being mature and not going to stoop to any level. If it would help, he would speak in single syllable words to her. But then he had nothing else to say to her.

[ShadowRose]

Sarayn chuckled slightly, and didn't waver from her comfortable repose against the door frame to the Grand Master's office. Instead, she continued, "And I have officially made this matter my concern, dear Glenn. My special position within the Shepherd Knights has afforded me the luxury and knowledge of the inner workings within the syndicate. Besides.." she began while straightening her form, ".. precedent has told us that you are not able to control the iblith that flows freely from your mouth. But then again.." and she tilted her head to the side, smiling a faint bit, ".. you are not the only one I would blame should this meeting go awry. Malaroth has a distinct arrogance when it concerns his Order, a gathering of people that only holds its allegiance to the King and overlooks all other authority as naught. And his suffocating pride.. well.." The woman shrugged her shoulders, ".. it is why the relationship between knight and governor has faltered considerably."

"Whether you wish it or not, whether Malaroth himself wishes it or not, I will accompany the both of you during this meeting. I hope that this suffices." And she bowed to the mapmaker, turning to the door and rapping on it with delicate fingers, "Malaroth.. an official is here from the governmental office of Cinnabar Calomel.. A certain Glenn Burnie." called in a voice sweet and delicate.

And she turned to Glenn, "Furthermore, I doubt Malaroth appreciates you at all, provided that you began to spread horrible rumors about him concerning your doubts. It is best for the both of you that I attend." The smile she offered couldn't have been sweeter.

[Malaroth]

The mapmaker's question was met with silence on the other side of the stout oaken door; a contemplative, tense silence finally broken by footsteps heavy with mild reluctance at being summoned in Burnie's name and, by extension, the Governor's. As the door swings inward, it reveals a Grand master burdened with scowls and narrowed eyes, to be sure, but also the heavy breastplate of the knighthood, with matching vambraces, the rest of his body clothed in chain mail.

He glanced between the two, unsure if telling the Drow where he was headed would prove to be difficult or not. Nevertheless, with blond hair streaked in silver bound up in a loose tail for the nape of his neck, and black tabbard cinched by a stout, scaled belt, he inclined his head for the pair to enter as they would in his wake. Moving with the sound of metal he retreated to the desk, snatching up a gauntlet, that he began to pull taut against his left hand.

"I have time," he began in a brusque voice, eyes turned towards the armor he attempts to fit. "But not much. The Ashfiend has taken lives, and undoubtedly corpses, in the southeastern and southwestern reaches of Myrken Wood. Whatever he plans, it now includes a significant stretch of the border and I can no longer stand aside."

He snatched up the helmet awaiting him upon the desk and sighed, slipping it beneath an arm as he turned to face the pair fully. "There is still time to blunt the havoc he seeks to wreak upon the people, and they do not have the luxury of waiting behind magic walls. While your Governor enjoys his position, and throwing his weight around, people are dying. And something must be done."

[Glenn]

"I came..." And from the moment he stepped in the room, there was an ever increasing fury in Glenn Burnie's voice. Fury. Hatred. Rage. Disgust. They were all rising with each moment, and they would continue to rise. "I came to try to bridge the gap between you and the Governor, to try to offer information that would at the very least allow you to help in our best possible attack against the fiend right now, and upon terms that you would not find chafing. I came here to try to save lives, to try to assist you in maintaining your honor. I came here because of my regard for you and yours. MY RESPECT for you and your order, Ser Malaroth."

And he had a hand upon his blade now. That was how angry he had become. This was absurd. "I came because the lives being lost were more important than PRIDE that might be bruised. I came because I love Myrken Wood, my home. However, I am only human, and I will not, I CANNOT continue with this wretched underdwelling whore here." And he shakes his head not once, but repeatedly, at Malaroth. "This ... CREATURE that poisoned me for weeks in a row, that stabbed a DEFENSELESS woman in the back, that schemed to traffic orphans for Vraal, who consistently tells me that I should FORGIVE her these things solely because it's been, what, a month? Because she is sorry? Because she tries, and fails, might I add, to be better? She cannot have any concept of right and wrong. It would take YEARS for her to learn it given how she was raised. I DO believe in redemption, Ser Malaroth, but it takes time, and someday, years from now, we may be able to trust her with such responsibility. That would actually please me. Even with her slave collar, however (the effectiveness I doubt, if only because she does NOT fully understand human morality and has, time and time again, shown to me and others that it really does not make her act in any sort of noble way), she cannot be trusted with such important matters now. Either she leaves the room, the BUILDING, so that I may speak with you in peace and that we may do our very best to save lives, or I leave, and you may then ponder upon the taint your decision has left upon your honor, and the lives that have been lost. Can your honor afford such a taint, Ser? Again?"

[ShadowRose]

The drowess stepped into the room with concern raised, to witness Malaroth donning himself in such a way betrayed he was determined to set the record straight with the Fiend. As Glenn spoke, she tilted her head to the side, arching the fluidity of a brow, and simply watched as he slaughtered his own credulity with words petty and actions unnecessary. And, when he was finished, the woman turned to Malaroth and waited for his response, expression void of any emotion writ upon her beautiful and dark face.

Let us see where this will lead us...

[Malaroth]

"I understand such things as honor, and as redemption, and time," he began in a measured timbre, his cerulean gaze for the mapmaker alone. Between the two, slender reed of a budding swordsman, and would-be redeemed dark elf, he attempts to steer a calmer course for all their sakes. He raised his newly armored hand to forestall any forthcoming comments.

"Sarayn, if he comes on business from the Governor then it does not concern you. You are a ward of the knighthood for your protection, it is not a rank. It bespeaks our willingness to house you on your road towards redemption. Please, leave us."

A nod for the Drowess who, undoubtedly wanting to follow him for the Ashfiend, is not entitled to the inner workings of his order. While Glenn's words sting, all the more for the half-truth in which he speaks them, knowingly or not, there is the matter of protocol. His Majesty, quite simply, would not have renegade Drow sitting in on private conversations such as these.

"But for my honor, and the honor of the order, I remind you that honorable work is not always congratulated nor celebrated. It is good work to redeem, but long and hard also. I ask nothing of you Glenn, save to deliver your message. I have respect for you and will hear you out."

[ShadowRose]

The only reaction she offered Malaroth was the chill of narrowed eyes, and the simplistic turn and exit without another word. Glenn was completely ignored as if he never existed.

[Glenn]

That was... hell. Glenn put one hand upon the wall and caught his breath after the door was shut. "My apologies and my thanks. That was... all of my resolve, Malaroth, just to stay and wait your judgment. It has been a very trying few days, as you are well aware. Just last night, I was missing a large chunk of my left arm right..." There was a pause, a frown to go with it. There WAS a certain amount of regard and respect between the men, but here he had been speaking to him as if they were good friends. A wave of his hand ended that. There was simply no time.

He continued, more professionally. "First off, Cinnabar should NOT have sent his missive to Patience, without you, for a number of reasons, not the least of which being that you are responsible for her well-being. I will explain why he did however. There is to be a strike against the fiend, against a potentially weak point of his, using certain means created by the artificer. The number of people involved must be kept low, however. Cinnabar sent the missives to those who he knew felt very strongly and had a great personal stake in this."

And here was the crux, past personal feelings, of why Sarayn could not have been there. "He knows of Patience's family, just as he knows of Agnieszka Kaczmarek's loss, of all that has happened to Ariane, of the grief Bloodmoon felt over the lost barmaid, and so on. He does NOT know if your own personal connection to Teron." Why was that, Malaroth? It is because Glenn Burnie KEPT your secret. That is why. "He is frustrated, Ser Malaroth, as are you. He wishes only to protect the people of Myrken and to end the Fiend and his frustration, his desire to do so, makes him put aside protocol."

It also heightens the tendency to take things so very personally, to throw away help when that cannot be afforded. "This is too dire. Your assistance, that of Squire Patience, of a few other stalwart knights, these things were NOT officially requested by Cinnabar. He knows I am here, but I do not have his complete approval. This is too important, however. You need to be involved. We need your help. We need to all work together. This may be the best chance we have against the Ashfiend. I will provide you with the details now. After that, I hope you see why it is essential we all work together. If you agree to it, I will later on give you the exact information of where to be and when. And working together we may be able to finally bring an end to this horror."

He did NOT lecture Malaroth about honor or anything else here. He merely mentioned need and either the knight would agree or his pride would have been too wounded and then this was for nothing. Glenn was not pleading. He was stating a need and then offering information. It was now up to Malaroth whether he wanted it, wanted to be a part of what was to come, or not. "Shall I continue, ser?"

[Malaroth]

"When it comes to redemption, someone has to be the bigger person. And one cannot expect it of the redeemed." He followed Sarayn as she vanished quickly from his chambers. He caught the finality in her footfalls, the dimming of some small fire in a gaze suddenly gone cold, and sighed with a slow shake of his head.

The matter of the Ashfiend's destruction, particularly in light of his preparing to ride, draws out another elongated sigh ripe with sorrowful frustration. The helmet shifts beneath his arm, chain mail rustling and a booted heel scraping the solid floorboards. The soft firelight in the room's squat hearth casts orange shadows into the hollows of tired cheeks.

"The proper way of doing things is all the more important when things are dangerous and unsure. It brings surety to the disorder, and with it hope and understanding."

He half turned and, setting down the helmet, settled an armored palm upon his mace's handle.

"Speak on, Glenn."

[Glenn]

"You are... correct on both of those points, Ser Malaroth." Unfortunately, being correct would probably change very little. Glenn had given the Drow a chance by NOT arguing as strongly as he felt against the collar. That had likely saved her life. Now she would have to prove herself and that WOULD take a great deal of time. As for Cinnabar and protocol, the worse things got, the harder it was to deal with anything but the immediate problem. They were both learning how to do their respective jobs.

Now, for the Ashfiend. "It would very simple, endlessly preferable, to take a sword to Teron, to strike him with that sword over and over and over again until he was no more, or alternatively, to suck up our pride and ask two dozen Channelers to mass their power and destroy his body. You, more than anyone else in Myrken Wood, knows that would solve very little. His spirit would live on. His POWER would live on and he would hate us until the end of time.

"Therefore, we need another solution, a way to weaken his resolve, to bring him to rest." And here came the part that Glenn was most frustrated by. "We are... currently experiencing doubts whether Penroll lives on at all, or whether he simply BECAME Teron. He had to have been mostly lost, already consumed by hatred, BEFORE Vraal struck him down, or else he could have never been turned into the Fiend. It is... aggravating, to think this, Malaroth." Glenn seemed almost physically ill at the idea of it, that everything they had hoped for in this matter over the last few months, all they thought they had learned, was probably false.

"Regardless of whether Penroll resides inside of him or not, the Ashfiend still is torn between hatred, self-preservation and a weariness, a desire for peace, for sleep." He cannot be persuaded. That was what Ariane said. He was insane. But he could be FORCED. That was, perhaps, the only hope they had left. "The plan is this. Elspeth von Drakken has envisoned a device... and I apologize both to you and to her, wherever she is, for the obvious failings in the explanation that is to come. I am a mapmaker.

"This device will first be attuned to a small number of individual. Once readied, it will be sprung upon the Ashfiend, forcing both he and those involved into something akin to a shared dream, where the assaults will be upon his very psyche, where they might bypass the frame that merely holds his power and affect his spirit itself. The device will allow a certain amount of protection for those involved as well, especially against what he used to cripple Alastir. We hope that if his spirit is damaged enough, his resolve will fade and he will accept an eternal sleep." And if that fails, there is at least, for the first time, the possibility that together they might be able to actively destroy him.

A last nod from the mapmaker. "That is how I best understand the device. I ask you to go see Elspeth, to take Patience with you. She can explain better than I and will know about all the necessary preparations. The bodies of those involved will need protection during this endevour, especially if the Ashfiend has been raising a horde of the undead. Constables and knights alike would be useful for that." And here a slight pause. "Again, Malaroth, this has been told to you unofficially, becuase I felt you had a right to know, to be involved. Save for information on WHEN the assault is to take place, I can do little more for you when it comes to this."

[Malaroth]

Dreams. Machines. Powerful Sorcery. And, to top it all off, an attack upon the ever-burning soul of the Ashfiend. Through it all he listened, nodded, and attempted to digest the outrageous plan presented to him. Still, concerning the Ashfiend's somewhat unique nature, his ending might indeed call for an equally unique plan.

"Elspeth seems to be both knowledgable, and capable," he begins, forefinger and thumb used to errantly rub an unshaven chin. Their tips wandered up into the goatee that flanked his small, pale mouth while a warm sigh brushed the back of his hand. "If she thinks her magical machine capable of such, and given the Ashfiend's abiltiy to shrug off enormous amounts of physical punishment - and to visit them upon his enemies - then the plan seems rather sound."

He offered a small, sad smile for the mapmaker. The naive Burnie was concerned with helping people, he considered, and that served him well. Yet he did not understand the potential gravity of the Governor's words, and actions. How could he, he wondered, when Glenn fit so neatly into Cinnabar's pocket?

"I will serve as needed, as will the entirety of the knighthood. You may count on that," he began, crossing his arms. "What you may not count on, nor the Governor, is the King turning a blind eye to the blatant disregard of protocol. It is my business, perhaps even moreso than Calomel's, to be aware of what villainy needs to be fought. Up until recently, the Constable has been a key element in accomplishing such but recent events leave me unsure if he can be trusted to do both of his jobs adequately."

[Glenn]

The plan was sound? The plan was insane and full of holes, including no proper endgame. They were working on that. Regardless, it was the best they had.

And the king. It was a very good thing, especially after the last few days, that Glenn had already let out so much of his ire and fury upon Sarayn. It meant that he could show restraint here. He thought very little of a king who offered them so little in the way of direct aid. Glenn spent a month with the knights. It was obvious that their arrival here was not part of some great royal plan to defend Myrken. It was convenient. This was a king who had done NOTHING for Derry. It did no good for anyone to let any of this show, however. His words would be quite tame. He would do his job.

"You will forgive me if I care more about a man than about the title he holds. I told you, Ser, that I would not have made a very good member of your order." Or Malaroth wouldn't forgive him and that would be that.

Yes, that Cinnabar holds both positions is a concern to those who care about him. "There is a great amount of weight on Governor Calomel's shoulders, more so than any man should have to face. He wishes the best for Myrken. I give you my word of that, Malaroth. However, there is simply no other good option for either of his positions given the crises we currently face. That is yet another reason why it is so important that we end the threat of the Ashfiend now. With some time of peace, a great deal may be accomplished."

[Malaroth]

"I, too, care more for men than for titles mapmaker. You have delivered your message, I agree to help in whatever fashion that I may. If Calomel communicated more he would not have to bear the entire burden himself. Do not blame me if your master has a martyrdom streak."

A terse look for the cartographer, who it seems, with everyone else, will gladly sling mud at a knight and his order who seeks, and has always sought, to serve people first and title second.

"It is interesting how you allow yourself to badmouth Sarayn, myself and the knighthood. Yet do not allow anyone to say aught of the Governor."

A narrowed gaze for this man he might once have called friend.

"Your missive is delivered, messenger. You are dismissed."