The #Broken_Dagger Forum

He's gone.

Coriolanus Helstone was up late. He was always up late, these days.

I am a blighted fool, to trust anyone. This is truly a country of madmen, where oaths are as easily broken as china plates or young girls' hearts. I almost do hope you met with some misfortune, Sleipner; anything, but to tell me that you broke your promise.

I must know.

The soldiers had come back that afternoon with news: the General, Eriks DeMord Sleipner, was nowhere to be found, nor was his horse-thing, the intelligent Hrimfax. The guard was still looking for explanations. A note. Evidence. Anything.

Helstone was rapidly losing his patience with Myrken Wood.

"Get me Captain Karolinger," he says to dusky Rosamaria with her bright eyes and her nails as clear as the glint her sword. "Get him for me right now."

Captain Karolinger is not the first to be heard from.

That would be an unbidden Aloisius Treadwell, and it would be about a completely different subject. There is a slight shakiness to Treadwell's usually heavy, sloppy script, almost rendering the splattered, spotted stuff illegible.

= = = = =

To Governor C. Helstone

Good day. I trust you have heard about town of my recent misfortune in falling ill at a most inconvenient moment. After a momentary lapse of good health, I find myself certainly quite ready to continue managing the tax collection personally. Meanwhile, I have also managed to secure a fairly hefty sum of some two hundred fifty shillings in payment for one of the cottages by the lake from one Miss Rebecca Kincaid. It is up to her to provide furnishings and the like, of course, but for now, that key has changed hands with the usual caveat being in the event of her untimely passing with no documented heirs or of her failing to pay any future taxes on the land and properties that said land and properties stand the risk of being reclaimed by the Council for its rightful use and possible redistribution. It's nothing out of the ordinary, rest assured.

I thank you again for the generous provision made to return my store and cottage by the lake. The store was recently enough reopened, and there are some new, wonderful trinkets soon to come out of it, brought in from a friend who means a great deal of good--especially with regards to my purse. I suspect these little miracles of toys will sell quite well. They're magically animated, I'm told, and I do expect that to be a very large selling point. As for my cottage. . . . When I'm feeling a touch better, I'll venture there. At the moment, there are a few too many memories still invested in that place for me to make an appearance, I'm afraid.

Do let me know when I am needed. I understand that one fellow was moved on to the Council as a replacement quite recently, and word on the street seems to note the coming of another? Or do I need to berate my servants for giving me poor information?

Ever faithful to Myrken Wood,
This day the sixteenth of the first month, A.R. 207
Aloisius Horatio Treadwell
Councilor of Administrative Sanctions, Myrken Wood, Myrken Wood Province
= = = = =

If Rosamaria did, indeed, go looking for the Captain of the Brotherhood, then she would find a tower devoid of his presence. Indeed, the barracks as a whole would be lacking much of the remaining High Command of the Brotherhood (not that there was much of one, really...). But, this was explained by a letter left in the hands of a highly-placed Sergeant named Essin.

When and if the woman did come, this letter would be handed over at any request for his presence. A small smile would pass from the officer, and a request for best wishes on the good Governor's health. Then Rosa would be most assuredly shown to the door and out of the building. Politely, of course. Almost... sickeningly courteously, as it were. Yet still, the letter would have to go by her hand unto Governor Helstone's.

And, if by some odd occurance, Rosamaria did not come for the letter. Rest assured that it would be delievered in all due course by that same Sergeant.

And it would read thus:

Governor Helstone,

Worry not about my lack of presence for the time being, just know that I do be on an extended patrol with the newest collection of slugwarts who wish to call themselves Guardsmen. It is almost a tradition that the Captain go with them on their final training exercise, and I do wish to maintain it as this be the first group to... graduate, as they do say, since I have taken over. I shall be back by week's end (this would be late upon the 19th of this month, or perhaps the 20th, depending on how much I wish to let these scrubs suffer).

If there is need of my presence swifter than this, let Sergeant Essin know, and he will find a way to gain my attention. Oh, by the way, this damn'd curfew needs to be put down. Some of the militiamen are becoming a bit overzealous in their desire to uphold it. I have two guardsmen in the infirmary from a beating they took. Not good for morale at all. No at all.

Obediently yours,

Aeryn Karolinger, Captain.

Interestingly, it would almost look like the letter was written weeks ahead of time, and the date added in at the last moment. The bit in parenthesis did look a -bit- newer and bolder of colour than the rest of the letter. But in anycase, there it was.

You read things differently when you no longer trust a soul.

First, of course, he deals with Treadwell's letter -- Treadwell, who despite being a slimy git in Helstone's estimation, is probably the only one not trying to maneuver behind the Governor's back.

Mr. Treadwell,

It is good to hear that you're feeling better! Unfortunately, falling ill is not something we can control; we simply must take care of ourselves, yes?

Now that you're feeling better, I think it would be time for a meeting between us to discuss the taxes and other matters, especially since your servants are quite right in the matters you mention. You know where to find me.

Sincerely,
Coriolanus Helstone
Governor of Myrken Wood

And then he pens a new letter entirely.

To the esteemed master Bromn,

I am appraised that your recovery is proceeding apace, and that you are back in Myrken Wood to open a bakery. I used to live above one before the unfortunate catapulting of my first house, and do so miss the scones the man used to make -- so, perhaps, you will not object if I stop by and have a chat with you at your earliest convenience, as well as one of your delightful goodies, yes?

I look forward to it.

Sincerely,
Coriolanus Helstone
Governor of Myrken Wood

And then, finally, Aeryn's.

Helstone frowns at it. A man who has been nursing deep-seated suspicions against Thessilane for a while now reads this quite differently from one whose eyes are not as -- opened -- to the sheer treachery of governing this damned province.

There is something very wrong here.

He bites his bottom lip in thought.

And, instead of writing back, he turns to Rosamaria and asks her to corroborate Aeryn's story with her own eyes.

Helstone;

An old friend has returned - rather, 'friends', that I cannot deny. You may not have heard of them, for this was before your time; but the name of the Horde may be familiar to some, and the black dragon brood they commanded still cause many fear.

The oath I swore to them is as strong as it was when I made it; and yet I know that I am bound to Myrken as well. And so I leave my heart, and soul, behind; I swore upon him, and though the thought of leaving him behind pains me, it is the path that I must take.



Hrimfax is yours to command, but know that the Lady Ariane is the only one that holds his heart.

By my hand and seal;

Eriks deMord Sleipner, General






Ari,

Do not fear him; his strength and speed, his power, are yours. Use him against those who would do Myrken, yourself, or those you love harm.

A horse reflects his master's true heart; know that mine belongs ever to you.

My regards to your Bromn.

Eriks