Cato stopped the horse and stood still, then said "The capital is over this small hill." Immediately after he took off and soon they were in the capital, heading toward the center of the city.

Elizabeth looked up at the capital when they stopped for a second.
"captured? Not that I know of."

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(}--{)Imagination Inspires Ideas -Zandain(}--{)
Married Cloud Strife 9/17/08

Jateyani looked at himself in the glass and gingerly touched his temple. The swelling had finally gone down, but there was still a cut that stung. It didn't sting as much though, as...Jate winced. When it was discovered he had left the palace, he had been in big trouble. He didn't know that Lord Elghen would be willing to whip a twenty year old like some foolish child stealing pastries. But he did. The red in Jate's face was only partly from anger.

A faint sound caught his ear, and he turned. The sound soon turned into a roar, sweeping throughout the place like a wave. Hastily pulling a dark green coat over his tunic, Jate ran into the hallway.

The man being pulled through the halls looked very familiar. The hood of his grey cloak had fallen back, revealing greying hair and a strong, defiant face.
"The Phantom," Jate muttered, half in admiration and half in anger. One minute escaped - how did he manage it? And now here he was, being escorted by guards and displayed like a trophy through the palace. Jate gave an involuntary jump. As though the captured man could hear his thoughts, he looked up and their eyes met. Only briefly, but in the quick glance Jate saw desperation and determination combined.

A steadily growing stream of people followed the condemned man and his guards, but all hung back from the man directly behind: Bounty hunter, Jate thought. The man radiated a sense of danger, even walking at his leisure. Feeling compelled to join the rush, Jate found himself down the stairs and facing heavy doors. People were turning back now, they knew what was next. The Phantom would be thrown into the dungeon, and most likely tortured. Servants remembered themselves, bowing and curtsying to higher lords. Lords turned to talk to one another about politics and what will happen to the rest of the Phantom's followers now that he was caught. Ladies fanned their faces and expressed sympathy at such a strong man being caged up.

Jate didn't turn back. He walked down past cells, wrinkling his nose at the smell and eyes trying to pierce the darkness. He heard voices down one corridor and turned towards them.

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going on a journey through my old claims

And Cirron's jaw fairly dropped onto the stone floor beneath him. The Phantom himself! Could it be possible? All these months of hearing nothing but his name uttered in fear and awe, and now... A legend defeated. A legend thrown into a cell like any mediocre fool awaiting the twisted justice of the High Vizier...

Or perhaps not, Cirron decided upon further inspection. One glance into Phantom Grey's eyes beheld not defeat or resignation, but a steely determination and an indomitable spirit that'd endured him through bards' tales and women's hearts alike.

Cirron realized his jaw was still hanging slack like a simpleton's, and he quickly shut it. He cleared his throat. "C - Cirron," he introduced himself lamely. Footsteps echoing down the corridor outside spared him additional embarassment. A tall noble was striding towards them, no doubt to gloat over the Phantom's apparent defeat.

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"Coming, I'm coming," Jais protested with a glare, pausing to drop a money sack at Belnarr's indignant feet. No one ever contradicted the CQS in that kind of temperament, especially if one valued one's life - which Jais did very much at that moment.

As he passed the lovely violet-eyed elfmaid, he ducked into an extravagant bow guaranteed to melt any woman's heart. "My princess Silvryn," he greeted, kissing her hand before the imperious woman could snatch it away. He flashed her a disarming wink for good measure before continuing on his way, following Kjan out of the cavernous chamber into one of the torchlit corridors towards what he assumed to be the Keep's council room.

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"Well," Cato said, "That may very well be the case." They were now entering the capital by way of a broad road. The masked figure with the girl was eliciting odd stares from those around.

Jate stopped as he reached the Phantom's cell. Apparently, the herbalist had just been trying to talk, but Jate dismissed him from his mind. The man in the other cell was all he had eyes for.

"You're the Phantom," he said, his voice seeming to echo through the dank prison hold. "How do you do it? I was just fighting you hours ago, and you escaped. Yet you're captured now." Jate sat on a crate by the Phantom's cage.

"Why do you fight the Regent? He isn't that terrible. People are fed, there aren't any wars except the ones you start. Why do you do it?" He fixed a stare on the man, leaned back, and crossed his arms.

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going on a journey through my old claims

"How can you tell?" Elizabeth whispered, ignoring the stares, but didn't want other to hear...

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(}--{)Imagination Inspires Ideas -Zandain(}--{)
Married Cloud Strife 9/17/08

Threng couldn'y tell if Kjan was being sarcastic or moody, but at this point he wasn't going to take it into consideration.
"There are others here that will take watch over the refugees, and do it better than I" Threng was about to argue. But he held his tongue. Somtimes it was better to act then to speak. He signaled to a stout middle aged man, who ambled over. "Sir, escort these refugees to the town meeting hall, and have them wait there." Threng glared a bit harder than was necessary; he had not had a lot of sleep, nor had the previous day gone much to plan. The man scurried off to talk to the refugees as Threng marched to catch up with Kjan and Jais. "I belive there is a open room below the meeting hall." Threng said, trying to keep the growl out of his voice. "Its nice and private."

For a moment the Phantom considered dismissing this noble, asserting that he had no business inquiring as to the rebels' purpose. But this, he reconsidered, would not further his cause. "People are fed," he said. "Enough to barely live on, enough for the childrens' faces to grow ever thinner and their stomachs ever emptier. The Regent cares nothing for anything except his precious nobles."

His tone had grown almost unconsciously more intense. This was the Phantom who captivated audiences, who could with a speech fire up even those opposed to his cause. He rose, one hand gripping the iron bars of the cell. "The nobles grow richer and the peasants ever poorer. It was never so under a king, a monarch who knew that a kingdom is in its people, not its money."

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Cato responded just as quietly "Under this mask are many things not natural."

((hey gwen asked me to tell you that she will be away for awile. becuase her computre is haveing issues....so yeah....she'll be back when she can...please do not leave her far behind..thank you and have a wonerful day.))

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Music expresses that which cannot be said and on which it is impossible to be silent.
Victor Hugo

music is my life, my love, it's apart of my very being, it's what keeps my heart beating
~Raelyn

All our dreams can come true, if we have the courage to pursue them.
Walt Disney

All who call on God in

Jate leaned forward with interest. "But couldn't a king become as corrupt as a regent? Can't some kings realize that their power comes only partly from the people, but also from their absolute control over the army, the trade supplies, everything? So is that your plan, take down the Regent in order to set up someone else who could be just as bad?" His brow furrowed as he ran through what the Phantom had said.
"People may be fed little, but they could be fed better if there were no wars or raids on farms! No one in power can be perfect, and no system is perfect! How do you know you aren't turning corrupt, aren't loving the power you feel when other's lives are in your hands? How do you know that you're still better than him when you use much of the same tactics to fight?" His voice calmed.

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going on a journey through my old claims

He stood there, mouth open, as the others trooped off to host their little secret council. His saliva ran dry. His jaw began to ache. His tongue became the morgue for an unhappy insect who found his mouth the perfect place to die.

Now one, he could follow Mr Plans (also known as Kjan) and bug him until Kjan (also known as the planning man) had an internal combustion; or two, he could find some way to work around this inconvenience. Seeing the first option wasn't exactly idyllic (and he hated to scorch this coat, when he had payed a full days wage for it), the second was what he chose. After all, at the moment everyone else was so caught up in their dearly departed Phantom, the only folk to be lollygaging about would be simpletons and guinea pigs. How lovely.

And so, Nataniel began strolling along amiably, keeping a sharp eye out for someone. First one way, and then the other. Like a new father waiting to be told the news, except without the nervous ringing of the hands. Huh, try to catch him cracking and forever ruining his knuckles like that, no sir!

There. Boy with horses. Didn't see him in the wagon. Ding.

Nat sauntered over Ardan's way, inspecting the fine beasts, and trying to remember what it was they were called. Ardan himself looked well enough, not overly gullible, but Nat supposed he would have to do.

"Hullo there. Nice day isn't it? Of course. Say, I'll get right to the point. Does the phrase "wallowing in riches" mean anything to you right now?"

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

"Someone's been feeding you misinformation, boy," retorted the Phantom, eyes as hard as the steel they retained the color of. "I don't raid farms. Nor do any under my command. Stealing from nobles I cannot deny, but they don't need any more money to roll in while children starve under their very noses." His words were almost venomous, their intensity startling.

"You tell me what tactics I use that resemble those of that self-proclaimed dictator. All who join me join because they want to - they're not conscripted into service to let their fields lie barren and their wives and children scrabble in the dirt for food." The Phantom raised an eyebrow, gaze practically piercing Jate through. It spoke of utter contempt. "Though I shouldn't expect the upstart whelp of a noble to know anything."

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"Where did you pick up that one?" Silvryn inquired quietly as she matched Kjan's pace, casting a brief glance in Ranulf's direction.

"Oh, him?" Kjan asked, waving a hand vaguely toward the man in question. "He and his buddy got me and the Phantom out of a tight spot earlier, so I told him to climb into the wagon with the escaped prisoners. Figured the least I could do was keep him from becoming target practice for the Regent's men- though goodness knows they need it. Why? You know him...Your Highness?"

"We've met," Silvryn replied simply. "He ran a few errands for me once."

"Is he trustworthy?"

Silvryn looked back over at Ranulf for a moment before nodding. "In my experience, yes," she finally said. "He is a skilled warrior, from what I hear, and he did complete the tasks I gave him. He would no doubt be a valuable addition to our ranks, should he choose to join."

Jate's anger grew at each word the Phatom uttered. Maybe, deep down, he knew the Phantom was right, but it went against all his teaching. His frustration and confusion grew and warred against his mind, and it all came out in a torrent of anger against the man before him. Through his racing thoughts, he heard -

"...I shouldn't expect the upstart whelp of a noble to know anything.."

That was the last straw for Jate.
"Don't you dare call me that!" He was suprised to find his hands gripping the cell bars, he must have lept up without knowing.
"Never EVER call me that!" Breathing hard, he stared into the Phantom's eyes. The look he saw in them made him flinch, but he refused to step back. Nose to nose, he felt all of his anger built up over his life rush out.
"Whelp! Motherless! Fatherless! Tormented night and day, day and night, for twenty years! Well I'm putting a stop to it coming from a dirty prisoner!" He heard a whine at his feet and looked down. His dark laborador looked up at him, wondering why his master was yelling. Taking deep breaths, Jate turned and walked away from the Phantom, shooting one last loathing glare back into the darkness.

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going on a journey through my old claims