(I've been gone, what happened??? I read through but am kinda confused...)

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Married Artemis Fowl on July 16, 2007
[!+^$%=#?&]
The Seemingly Nice But Actually Really Nasty Nazgul
School ate my life. *sigh*

Fionn stared. He had seen Fladnag before--glimpses of a preposterous billowing white figure, to be more specific--but never this close, and he'd had no idea that the man could do such things. He felt a curious sensation on his chin and snapped his mouth shut, wiping it with his sleeve. Wow., he thought, casting another glance at Fladnag.

He walked to the table and took a plate from one of the available spots, then proceeded to put as much food on it as he figured it could safely hold before retreating to his chair by the wall again. The armoury that had come in before the others looked to be shaping himself up to a swift and violent death by Fladnag with his tone, and Fionn didn't want to be anywhere near the eruption whenever it occurred.

So, keeping a wary eye on the irate armoury, he ate, drank, and kept an ear open to the conversation at the tables. Every group had its impetuous members, he had learned, and it was always best to know which they were so that they didn't pull you down with them when they went. He already had the assassin tagged in that category. He hoped there weren't many others.

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((*Waves frantically* no one answered my question, what is happening???))

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Married Artemis Fowl on July 16, 2007
[!+^$%=#?&]
The Seemingly Nice But Actually Really Nasty Nazgul
School ate my life. *sigh*

(We all left the meeting room and are now eating in a dining room. Everyone is just talking and we just met Fladnag. That's about it I think)

Bronwyn momentarily bristled as another man sat near her. It was not necessarily wanted, with Lorne and Ifan as her only company she could be as demanding as she wanted. With someone nearer her station it was necessary to retain a bit of control on the multitude of questions she had.

Regaining her composure was a matter of seconds. A small smile took the place of the stern straight line of concentration before.

Bronwyn turned slowly to face the man and inclined her head forward in greeting. "My lord," she said while her mind reminded herself that this was the man she would have to work with when a formal situation in Celsea occurred, and that it was not time to make an enemy. With this in mind she decided to try and make small talk.

"What do you think of our task, sir? I would have the opinion of someone other than the assassin, although I suppose most would say the same." She said all this with her smile intact and her hands folded on the table.

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Heavens no. Hell Yeah.


Set 1: Nurr | Set 2: Me

"You have exactly as much time as I have time," returned Fladnag magnanimously, not at all hindered by the blade pinning his robe to the table. In fact, he picked it up and twirled it a few times. "Therefore, my boy, you are in error. We have time aplenty for riddles."

Offering the knife, hilt first, back to its owner, the mage tucked into his dinner with a will. After the first three bites, he paused as though recalling, and leaned over to pat Devin's arm conspiratorially. "Magics? Well, wouldn't that be telling?" Fladnag leaned back and hooted heartily in his amusement, the tip of his pointed hat shaking. When the peals of merriment looked like ceasing, he opened one eye and surveyed Devin. "Crack a smile, why don't you."

Elanna was watching in amazement from the other end of the table, heap of forks forgotten at her elbow. Fladnag winked at her and went back to his food. She concluded that he was insane.

"Very likely," he said.

The meal continued without further interruption, until Fladnag pushed his plate back and folded his hands over his stomach. "If I might beg your indulgence," he said in a booming voice, "I believe I will accompany you all. Until I tire of it, perhaps." He beamed a benevolent smile around the table. "Excuse me. I shall call for dessert."

And he vanished through the door with a swish of rune-covered robes.

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If Alenia was indignant at the assassin, she was burning with scorn at Fladnag. Calling her out in front of everyone. She wasn't quite sure if she was mad at him for drawing attention to her in a boisterous fashion or for reprimanding her. The last time someone told her what to do ended up with paralyzed. Albeit, not intentionally. Seething with embarrassment, she ate her food calmly...if one defined calmly as stabbing her meat with the knife too much force than necessary. However, she finished her meal with good grace, gently wiping her mouth as she watched the assassin insulted by this man, this charlatan. She briefly speculated his wallet size before hurriedly casting her thoughts into another direction.

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I was cured all right.

Stasiak let the comment about him fly, because arguing with one such as this was just pointless. The mage, who Stasiak now would call ‘gibbering idiot,’ was set in his ideas and no amount of arguing would change it. And explaining just how much his childhood sucked just angered him, and being angry really spoiled life, and Stasiak really enjoyed enjoying life. However, he did grab the fork that the gibbering idiot told them to use and tossed it over his shoulder to the floor and grabbed a random for and began to eat. And he had to get in one comment, but with a grin, “I do not strut, and my disposition has a very, very good reason for being how it is. And, by the way, I like my disposition, so *beep* off and either stick your advice where the sun don’t shine or give to someone who cares. As for your name, I much prefer ‘gibbering idiot’ to any of the ones you suggested....just so you know for the next time you introduce yourself, of course.”

Once the gibbering idiot left to, apparently, get dessert, Stasiak laughed, “Well, that was ironic, hmmm? The most arrogant one among us giving us a lecture on arrogance after sweeping in and displaying just how much more mannered and well cultured and more observant he was. Hypocrisy thy name is Fladnag.”

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Four Gods wait on the windowsill,
Where once eight Gods did war and will,
And if the Gods themselves may die,
What does that say for you and I?

Now, three Gods wait on the windowsill
Where one God's blood was lately spilled
While black tongues lap at the spreading pool
And build the strength they need to rule.

Terrel was slightly amused to be called a lord, but even more so pride swelled inside of him. For a lady such as this to recognize him and call him a lord! He pulled his mind back from thoughts of titles and lands to answer her question.

"I do believe the majority of us are of the opposite opinion of the assassin as well as wanting to hear it," Terrel said importantly. It wasn't often he was asked for his opinion, usually he just offered it freely. "I think our task is extremely important to the country and the king. We need to go about it with calm heads and deference to the will of the king." He said the last with a glance down the table towards the assassin. His next words were cut off by the appearance of food, and he finished off the meal trying not to listen to the ill mutterings of the others.

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going on a journey through my old claims

((Warning, this is an uber post. I got carried away. Just... please try to at least read the last eight paragraphs. Thanks.))



"Very recently," admitted Lorne to Ifen. "I'd only just been home a fortnight when rumors of our king's desire reached me. There has not been much change in Celsea I think, besides growing unrest between their high king and the king of Czale." He grimaced a little, about to explain further the trouble Czale was causing, when his attention was suddenly caught by the assassin throwing a knife at Fladnag.

Lorne assessed the situation for a moment, but decided to let it go. The old geezer certainly didn't look like he could handle himself when it came down to it, but one could never know with these types. Keeping his gaze keen on the others reactions, he turned back to Ifen with a rather caustic grin. "I suppose some of us are going to need to work on our good manners before meeting any of the clan chiefs, eh?"

The meal proceeded rather uneventfully, besides the slightly awkward silence which had possessed the room. This was every spy's worst nightmare; a crowd of people who were at best short-tempered and worst silent and moody. Rather absently, Lorne amused himself by drumming his fingers on the table.

Suddenly the door was flung open, and the Captain of the Guard stormed in, eyebrows furrowed together and mouth set in a taught line. This did not bode well, seeing as the Captain was not notorious for patience or goodwill. Lorne immiediately rose out of his seat and bowed, praying silently for the poor soul who'd caused this interruption...

"Not now Lorne," said the Captain distractedly. He stopped, at the head of the table, and stared at all of them with stifling anger. "So this is how you repay your King's hospitality? Threats, thieving, and other immature behavior! And after this, you think I'm just going to let you stay the night here without..."

"Captain Theros, <i>please</i>," pleaded an advisor, scurrying in. "These are the King's guests!"

"Not while I'm alive," snarled Theros.

The advisor stretched himself to his full height, right in Theros face, and pushed back his grey hair from his face. "And what do you suggest Captain? Turn them out to the stables? Or perhaps you have room in your mens quarters?"

The two men stared at one another for a long moment. Finally, Theros conceded, offering a stiff smile to the occupants of the dining chamber. "It is a good thing our King see's more value in you than I do. I trust you will find your rooms comfortable." The sneer in his tone was unmistakable. "If you have any trouble during the night, I'm sure you will find it reassuring that your doors will be double guarded tonight. You will be escorted as well, so there will be no chance of you getting lost in our winding corridors. And unfortunately ending up in the lower part of our-"

"Theros," began the advisor warningly.

There was trouble stirring between the two again. Lorne rose to his feet a second time, yawning broadly. "Well then, escort on Captain! I'm feeling quite tuckered-"

"Oh shut up," the Captain muttered in undertones. Instantly young guards moved in to escort the young 'guests' their room.

***

Lorne was never an early riser. And so somehow, it came as no shock when he awoke with the sun in his eyes, birds singing chirpily outside the window. <i>Earth be cursed,</i> thought Lorne, frantically scrambling into his clothes, <i>If I haven't gone and slept past my own departure.</i>

Still half asleep, he pulled on his boots, and flinging open the door, dashed into the hallway. Almost instantly, he was bodyslammed into the opposite wall.

"Hey... what?" he spluttered, shoving the guard off of him. The guard stopped suddenly, and smiled sheepishly. "Sorry Lorne. Orders were to physically oppose anyone who tried to-"

"Okay, okay," interrupted Lorne. "Do you really have to be so enthusiastic about it?"

He didn't wait for an answer to that, but proceeded to make his way downstairs, the guard at his heels. "Really," he sighed, whirling around to face him. "Of all people, the king ought to have trust in me. Is this really necessary?"

"Yes," said the guard shortly.

A few of their group had already gathered in the main hall, and Lorne greeted them loudly with, "Pleasant morning, isn't it?"

And then he saw the king.

Kyne looked as if he'd already filled his quota for emotional breakdowns that morning. He was standing off to the side conversing in hushed tones with an advisor. The advisor stabbed a finger in the direction of the group, and then said something in angry undertones to the crowned king.

Sighing loud enough for Lorne to hear, the king turned to the group. "Apparently there have been some complications already. The Celsean border has... well, they've put a stricter security on it. In this motley group, trouble would be inevitable. However, the security is less enforced in the northern part of the country. If you cut across Czale, you should be able to get through with no trouble."

Wincing, Lorne bowed low before addressing his king. He hated to speak out, especially when loyalties were so fragile, but this shaky plan was not exactly failproof.

"My king, with all due respect, I don't believe any of our number know Czale very well. There has been growing unrest there. What if we fall into some unforseen trouble?"

"You are very intelligent adults," said the king testily. "Surely you did not expect to make this journey with no trouble? You'll only be traveling through Czale a few days. Any resulting trouble should be handled in the same manner you would handle trouble with Celsea."

Lorne grimaced, but acknowledged the king's authority with a short bow, before retreating back.

"Oh, and one other thing." The king smiled. "Do not underestimate Fladnag."

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<center>
"The piano is able to communicate the subtlest universal truths by means of wood, metal and vibrating air."

Bronwyn ate sparingly that night, mostly due to restraints a woman in her position has to honor and also because of her inability to bring up a proper will to eat. Once again she was determined to make a proper exit, as she could not have her proper entrance - she could do that in the morning when she had more time.

It was overly simple really, young guards were already interested in her and one look had them thoroughly enthralled. So, as soon as she stood a man quickly came to her arm in a surprisingly synchronized movement. The other guard went straight to the door and opened it while Bronwyn continued walking, her eyes fixed forward.

Their walk ended at her room where she walked inside, and went about getting ready to sleep.

Too many thoughts were flitting about her mind - a colorful parade. It did not matter how many ideas she tried to entertain, they always circled back to the mission and the group she would have to work with. It would be a long trip, to be sure.

Bronwyn woke before the sun was completely up. Going to the trunk that had been brought in while she was in the council room she drew out a red riding dress and readied herself for the departure. She even took the time to fix the dagger her father had given her 'because the people of Celsea were hardly civil' around her thigh, although now she was more worried about her tempestuous companions to be.

The men at the door required little convincing when she wished to exit. She wished to send off a letter to her family - a copy of the agreement with the King, and a few other greetings and silly additions to placate her mother's worry.

Traversing the halls at an easy pace, she hardly expected to meet anyone on her way to find a page to whom she would pass the letters on to.

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Heavens no. Hell Yeah.


Set 1: Nurr | Set 2: Me

Bronwyn ate sparingly that night, mostly due to restraints a woman in her position has to honor and also because of her inability to bring up a proper will to eat. Once again she was determined to make a proper exit, as she could not have her proper entrance - she could do that in the morning when she had more time.

It was overly simple really, young guards were already interested in her and one look had them thoroughly enthralled. So, as soon as she stood a man quickly came to her arm in a surprisingly synchronized movement. The other guard went straight to the door and opened it while Bronwyn continued walking, her eyes fixed forward.

Their walk ended at her room where she walked inside, and went about getting ready to sleep.

Too many thoughts were flitting about her mind - a colorful parade. It did not matter how many ideas she tried to entertain, they always circled back to the mission and the group she would have to work with. It would be a long trip, to be sure.

Bronwyn woke before the sun was completely up. Going to the trunk that had been brought in while she was in the council room she drew out a red riding dress and readied herself for the departure. She even took the time to fix the dagger her father had given her 'because the people of Celsea were hardly civil' around her thigh, although now she was more worried about her tempestuous companions to be.

The men at the door required little convincing when she wished to exit. She wished to send off a letter to her family - a copy of the agreement with the King, and a few other greetings and silly additions to placate her mother's worry.

Traversing the halls at an easy pace, she hardly expected to meet anyone on her way to find a page to whom she would pass the letters on to.

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Heavens no. Hell Yeah.


Set 1: Nurr | Set 2: Me

O_O I just forgot to Ctrl/c my post and lost it all in the act of hitting Submit. That's kind of irritating. I just spent half an hour typing it up.

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(Darn it! Double post. Oh well...Poor you Aerandir! I hate when that happens.)

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Heavens no. Hell Yeah.


Set 1: Nurr | Set 2: Me

(Darn it! Double post. Oh well...Poor you Aerandir! I hate when that happens.)

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Heavens no. Hell Yeah.


Set 1: Nurr | Set 2: Me

Alenia allowed herself to be escorted by two guards who were neither too cruel nor too gentle. She could hiss and hurl meaningless insults like a petulant child. Or...she could make some more money while she was here. As they led her up some stairs, she pretended to stumble over them, giving a small yelp as she did. Immediately the nearest guard went to her, holding her hand to stop her from falling.

"Mind your step, miss," he said. He then grasped her hand tighter and forced it upward. "And your hands."

He earned a death glare from Alenia in return. An empty death glare. She was in a sullen mood as she bade the guards good night and entered her room. The room itself was bare but well furnished, providing only the essentials in eloquence. She sighed and took out the purse that she had stolen earlier. Counting through the coins, she had stolen a grand total of nine gold coins and eleven silver pieces. Not too bad. She once stole because she needed the money. She now stole because she needed the thrill. Exhausted from the day's adventures, she curled up in her bed and fell asleep almost immediately.

However somehow she didn't feel like she was sleeping. Rather it felt like she had climbed out of bed and slipped on clothes that she wore only when she was breaking into someone's house. Then, gently easing the window open, she walked onto the balcony and began to climb down, using anything and everything for grips. Occasionally she would slip, emitting the occasional unconscious cry, but the sound fell on deaf ears. Finally she made her down into another balcony. Where it led, she had no idea but it was worth taking a look.

She silently crept towards the window and carefully applied enough pressure to open it. The oddity of it being unlocked never crossed her mind. The room she entered was deserted and dark, of no particular interest to her. She gently weaved her way through the darkness until she came upon the door. That too was carefully eased open until a gap big enough for her was formed. She slipped her body through the door and closed the door quietly after her. After some wanderings she came upon another room with a balcony, and she climbed not down, but rather up towards another balcony.

When she drew near the balcony, she could hear the sounds of a guard posted on the balcony. Not loud sounds, just the subtle ones like boots fidgeting or nose sniffling. But it meant she had to be careful. She gingerly climbed on the balcony edge to see that the window behind the guard was open. Again, another open window. In a different time, she would have found this rather odd but the idea of the hunt consumed Alenia. She dislodged a piece of the brick from the wall and threw it away from her, hearing it hit the wall.

"What's that?" the guard asked to himself as he hastened to the side closest to the sound, allowing Alenia to hoist herself up and slither into the open window. This room was illuminated but by a solitary candle. Taking quick note of the fine and luxurious decorations, she deduced that this was the chamber of one of the nobles or advisers. So it came to a surprise when she saw the face lit by the candle. It wasn't a noble or some member of the king's staff. It was the king himself, reading reports of his realm as everyone slumbered. His usual young face looked like he had gained ten years of age and sorrow For a minute, she felt a twang of sympathy towards him. But then she saw it. The golden chains that still radiated its shine even with the single light. The precious stones gleaming all around it. Unconsciously, the temptation to take it came. Goading her. She crept closer and closer to her prize until she was within arm's reach of it. Her hand clenched and unclenched as the arm extended out. For a moment, as her eyes turned from the prize to the king, though, her arm retreated back by an inch.

And it was that moment that ruined everything. A guard entered the room, saying "My lord we..." Then he caught sight of the thief and roared at the top of his lungs, "ALARM! THIEF IN THE CASTLE!" She sprang into motion. Dashing through the king's office, she went to the balcony where the guard was waiting with a nasty looking halbred. Without thinking, she kicked him, sending him screaming over the balcony to land in a sickening crunch. Adrenaline overtook her as she began to scale down the wall as guards flooded the balcony with bows in hands. Arrows thudded against the wall or flew past her, but one unhappy one nicked her hand. She cried, sucking on her hand...then realising that nothing was holding her against the wall.

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Alenia woke up in the early morning, panting heavily...the sunlight piercing through the open window.

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I was cured all right.

...since I don't feel like retyping my post, suffice it to say that Fionn is in the Main Hall. -_-

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