The Phoenix
08-09-12, 12:33 PM
Closed to Gale and Inferno
Cydnar and Dalasi had been the Elisdrasil’s first choice. Though the Hummel brothers had very different natures, their racial unity and familial ties made them the optimal candidates. Unfortunately, while most often a benefit to Elisdrasil, their unity worked against Phoenix Ascendant’s beleaguered leader in this instance. The pair had left for Carromack Cross only days ago on another matter of guild business and, as far as he knew, weren’t expected back for some time. The loss of so perfect a pair for this assignment was frustrating, but Elisdrasil was determined not to let it stifle the opportunity that had been presented to him.
Steeling himself for the task, Elisdrasil lit a fresh honey-scented candle and grabbed a thick sheaf of papers from his escritoire. The papers were in complete disarray, something that he’d been meaning to attend to for quite some time. Sadly, his organizational skills had suffered somewhat as of late, another victim of Phoenix Ascendant’s war efforts and the fame that it had brought them. As a result, Elisdrasil was frustrated to find that many of the papers were woefully out of date, referencing names and skill sets for dozens of guild members whose names now adorned the bronze plaque in Boomtown’s reading room. It was a plaque commemorating the members of the guild who had given their lives during the Ixian War of Aggression.
Three hours and two dozen memberships later, Elisdrasil slid the remaining pile aside with a sigh, a pile which seemed to have grown no smaller despite the headway that he had made, and leaned back in his chair. While not exactly exciting, he’d found that properly maintained paperwork was essential to keep an organization running smoothly. Sadly, the constant influx meant that he could probably spend the rest of his life hacking away at the pile and never achieve an end to it all.
Well that explains why so many generals are fat, he thought, snorting lightly at his own humor.
Realizing that he wasn’t going to get any more work done that evening, at least not for a while, Elisdrasil pushed his chair back and stood. His sore muscles protested the sudden movement but it was the hollow pang in his stomach that got Elisdrasil’s attention. His eyes fell regretfully on the bowl of spiced lamb and tomato soup that Ellie had brought before the sun had dropped below the sky. A crust had formed across the top of the untouched bowl, and had he been hungry enough to scrape it off he was almost certain that he would find the rest of the soup coagulated into a distasteful paste beneath it. Neither Tickers nor Boom-Boom were renowned for their spartan, healthful cooking.
Pushing the bowl aside with a distasteful frown, Elisdrasil settled instead for the earthen wine pitcher that had come up with it. What they lacked in culinary grace, the gnome brothers made up for in their knowledge of spirits. Elisdrasil poured himself a cup of the spiced red and took it over to the window. He leaned against the window for several minutes, sipping at his wine and watching the sleepy, night shrouded streets of Vorsport. None of the guild members that he had looked at over the past few hours had come close to matching the unified qualities that the Yrene’s had. The window of opportunity for this particular endeavor was quickly closing, and while the incident wouldn’t become threatening if left unresolved, this was just the sort of thing that Elisdrasil needed to break him out of his slump. If only he could find the right pair to accompany him...
Elisdrasil’s eyes settled on one of the torch lamps which lines Vorsport’s Main Street. The flickering of the torch’s flame caused a tickling in his brain, a sense of familiarity which, if he could only remember what it was, would solve his problem. He struggled with the recollection for several minutes before dropping it, realizing that it was a futile effort. pass. Sighing, Elisdrasil finished his wine and headed back for the pitcher to refill it, wistfully wishing that he had drank it while it was still iced.
The spark of memory flashed again as he thought. Elisdrasil stared off into the recesses of his room for a moment before absentmindedly putting the wine cup down and rushing to the pile of papers. He rifled through them quickly, pushing notices and applications aside until he found what he was looking for.
Duncan and Elaine Gambit, he mused, scanning the paperwork. Married, Concordian natives, fire and ice magic. Joined Phoenix Ascendant early on and both survived the war.
“Opposites yet unified,” he muttered, the corners of his lips curling in a knowing smile. Elisdrasil had found the pair that he needed.
Cydnar and Dalasi had been the Elisdrasil’s first choice. Though the Hummel brothers had very different natures, their racial unity and familial ties made them the optimal candidates. Unfortunately, while most often a benefit to Elisdrasil, their unity worked against Phoenix Ascendant’s beleaguered leader in this instance. The pair had left for Carromack Cross only days ago on another matter of guild business and, as far as he knew, weren’t expected back for some time. The loss of so perfect a pair for this assignment was frustrating, but Elisdrasil was determined not to let it stifle the opportunity that had been presented to him.
Steeling himself for the task, Elisdrasil lit a fresh honey-scented candle and grabbed a thick sheaf of papers from his escritoire. The papers were in complete disarray, something that he’d been meaning to attend to for quite some time. Sadly, his organizational skills had suffered somewhat as of late, another victim of Phoenix Ascendant’s war efforts and the fame that it had brought them. As a result, Elisdrasil was frustrated to find that many of the papers were woefully out of date, referencing names and skill sets for dozens of guild members whose names now adorned the bronze plaque in Boomtown’s reading room. It was a plaque commemorating the members of the guild who had given their lives during the Ixian War of Aggression.
Three hours and two dozen memberships later, Elisdrasil slid the remaining pile aside with a sigh, a pile which seemed to have grown no smaller despite the headway that he had made, and leaned back in his chair. While not exactly exciting, he’d found that properly maintained paperwork was essential to keep an organization running smoothly. Sadly, the constant influx meant that he could probably spend the rest of his life hacking away at the pile and never achieve an end to it all.
Well that explains why so many generals are fat, he thought, snorting lightly at his own humor.
Realizing that he wasn’t going to get any more work done that evening, at least not for a while, Elisdrasil pushed his chair back and stood. His sore muscles protested the sudden movement but it was the hollow pang in his stomach that got Elisdrasil’s attention. His eyes fell regretfully on the bowl of spiced lamb and tomato soup that Ellie had brought before the sun had dropped below the sky. A crust had formed across the top of the untouched bowl, and had he been hungry enough to scrape it off he was almost certain that he would find the rest of the soup coagulated into a distasteful paste beneath it. Neither Tickers nor Boom-Boom were renowned for their spartan, healthful cooking.
Pushing the bowl aside with a distasteful frown, Elisdrasil settled instead for the earthen wine pitcher that had come up with it. What they lacked in culinary grace, the gnome brothers made up for in their knowledge of spirits. Elisdrasil poured himself a cup of the spiced red and took it over to the window. He leaned against the window for several minutes, sipping at his wine and watching the sleepy, night shrouded streets of Vorsport. None of the guild members that he had looked at over the past few hours had come close to matching the unified qualities that the Yrene’s had. The window of opportunity for this particular endeavor was quickly closing, and while the incident wouldn’t become threatening if left unresolved, this was just the sort of thing that Elisdrasil needed to break him out of his slump. If only he could find the right pair to accompany him...
Elisdrasil’s eyes settled on one of the torch lamps which lines Vorsport’s Main Street. The flickering of the torch’s flame caused a tickling in his brain, a sense of familiarity which, if he could only remember what it was, would solve his problem. He struggled with the recollection for several minutes before dropping it, realizing that it was a futile effort. pass. Sighing, Elisdrasil finished his wine and headed back for the pitcher to refill it, wistfully wishing that he had drank it while it was still iced.
The spark of memory flashed again as he thought. Elisdrasil stared off into the recesses of his room for a moment before absentmindedly putting the wine cup down and rushing to the pile of papers. He rifled through them quickly, pushing notices and applications aside until he found what he was looking for.
Duncan and Elaine Gambit, he mused, scanning the paperwork. Married, Concordian natives, fire and ice magic. Joined Phoenix Ascendant early on and both survived the war.
“Opposites yet unified,” he muttered, the corners of his lips curling in a knowing smile. Elisdrasil had found the pair that he needed.