Cyllene Arlette's Story

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he country of En Lome is a quiet one. They have never felt the rumble of revolution, never suffered defeat in war but never experienced the power of a victory, and their greatest scandal fell under the rule of their last king; their history is generally calm and pretty, but it lacks the raw emotion of a masterpiece. They are not an incredibly interesting people and, with their lack of eventful news, history may not remember them well. It is a dull morning, such that are characteristic of the country, that brings with it the beginning of their only great story.

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. For a time, the only sounds are the soft, sleepy murmurings of a waking castle. The cooks set to work on the morning meal, the first cycle of night guardsmen are sent to their rest by the morningmen, and the princess' lady-in-waiting comes tapping at her door. But there is no princess within. In response, a call rises up and the castle is soon in uproar; all off-duty guards are called to the search, whispers of foul play run through the court, a din of agitation to break the classically still air.


. The queen tries to keep her poise, though the tumult of voices and footsteps does little to help her composure. Her face is drawn tight in frustration but she tries to look thankful for the flock of noblemen now competing for her regal attentions. Her daughter is missing, her husband is out of reach, and the normal order of her castle is in shambles. This is dangerous and she knows it all too well. She is already scheduled for a journey to Maslona for... negotiations and putting them off any longer would be more than unwise. Her daughter could be anywhere now.


. With heavy heart, and an unwelcome band of noblemen gathered near, the final preparations for the queen's short journey are made. All she has to offer her missing daughter for now are prayers and a search part organized by her loyal constable.

The queen stands beside her husband's throne, her small hand lain gracefully over an ornamental orb at the head of the chair. She tries to look calm and collected, even as vicious, exacting eyes stare her down from the base of the small platform the thrones are settled on. The loud thunder of voices, all competing over each other for just a moment of her attention, a moment stolen from her finding her child. Antagonizing.

She bites back the sharp words rushing to the tip of her tongue and tries to look upon the crowd with the great composure and sincerity expected of a queen, but the words are all blending together in their harshness, only a roar of half-helping gestures and power plays and noble silliness.

The sudden call of her title breaks her lack of focus, pulling her back into the world before her. The nobles do not cease their chattering, but she tries to focus on the words of the one now bowing before her. "Your Majesty! I have heard of your daughter's disappearance, and I offer my condolences, as well as my vow to you. I hereby swear by blood and by title that I will locate your daughter, and bring her home swiftly! I have ten good men, and fast horses. We can set out within the next half hour." The words merely succeed to strike her as another attempt to win her favor, albeit a more chivalrously posed attempt. She opens her mouth to reply only to hear the boom of thunder in her hall. Not again...

A good number of those seeking her attention fall aside at the sound of magic; the fear of the arcane affects even the educated, it seems. The sounds in the hall falter, finally, to the point of her being able to make out the next words with relative ease. "I am sorry that you had to see that my queen. What has disrupted the serenity of the kingdom, and how may I assist in its restoration?"

For a moment longer, the queen holds her tongue until, finally, a voice far to strong for her small form escapes her. "Enough." Finally, her court falls silent. "Raciall and Valeryn stand. The rest of the court, excepting a notable few," she bows her head in the direction of her husband's advisers, who have stood quietly aside for the duration. "Are to stand in silence unless spoken to."

A moment's pause and the nobles, grumbling but not daft enough to deny the acting monarch's word, shrink away from the platform.

"My daughter is missing." says the small queen simply, fingers tightening on the throne. "Half the city is already out looking for her and the other half has deemed fit to crowd my castle and impede our search. If you wish to help, I'd rather you remain calm. Someone should." Her eyes turn to glide over the crowd, then fall finally again on Valeryn and Raciall. "If you wish to help, I'd appeal you to remain calm and stand at your post but," she looks to the rest of the court. "I have a feeling my advice, in that, will not be heeded. If nothing else, do not allow your tongues to let slip of this incident to anyone. My daughter and her friend must be gently collected and returned. The panic of the country will do nothing to assist that."

She takes a deep breath, through her nose, and draws herself up. "If there is anything else?"

He let his blade fall into the sheath. He took a moment to look over the bodies of the men who had foolishly tryed to rob him.
Worthless killing, over nothing but coin He allowed a small "Hm" at the thought and began to walk again.






It was when a troop of soldiers decided to take him to their city for questioning... Yet they let him keep sword...weather it was out of fear or respect has yet to be seen.

"I shall seek the aid of the scryers in Troumora. It won't give an exact answer, but it should help to direct the search parties. That is all, my queen." Raciall said with a respectful bow before turning to stare at the other "noble" men and women for a few moments. It was obvious to him that these pampered servants needed to be shown what a valuable noble does, as compared to the meaningless voice that they merged together to become.

After his moment's stare, Raciall walked down the isle. Those among the crowd gave him mixed looks of awe and hate. He more than realized that he occasionally abused the powers that fate had given him, but Raciall tried to avoid unnecessary use. After all, over use of anything is bad for business, politics, and ideology.

Upon exiting the palace, Raciall moved about the near deserted streets of late morning, gathering materials. The trip to Troumora was routine for Raciall, but the decision to go was sudden and if he hoped to keep the ruling family ruling, he needed to head out as soon as possible.

He watched the people mill around hum, seemingly rushing about something important. His escort of guards had taken him to the capital of the local government and planned, from what he heard, to present the "Stranger" to their queen. As the walked inside he couldn't help but notices how well decorated the palace was compared to the town outside. They walked closer, being lightly pushed on by the guards, and came upon what appeared to be a group of noble men/women talking to, who he guessed to be, the queen. He looked at the women for a moment before he was rudely pushed forward by the leader of the group of soldiers. "My queen, I am sorry to interrupt you in this busy time, but we have found a.....a...", the captain could not find a word to describe this person. He had a sword, so perhaps a blade for hire. This is when the stranger spoke Ï am a Ronin, a wandering, master less, warrior of my people." He said this and rose to his feet. And I am looking for work, and it seems you could use some one of my talents...your highness." He bowed in the way of his people and waited for the queens response.