Post by Aurelia on Jan 3, 2012 7:28:33 GMT -8
Perfectly clear, it was piece of art more than a drinking glass, with a detailed winged serpent wrapping itself around the bowl before it worked its way down the stem to the foot of the glass. A rare piece anywhere, but this far north, it was truly unique, quite possibly there were only eleven others like it in Elmore, all of them in her possession. It was crafted far to the south, beyond the Seal of Shilen, in the only half explored region beyond Magmeld. The light played upon its intricate form the scales of the serpent glittered beautifully as it sailed through the air, each throwing out a cascade of tiny rainbows before shattering against the wall with an explosion of tiny glass fragments.
Its owner, of course, knew all that and more about the glass and its origins. She was simply beyond caring in the midst of her icy fury. What was one more loss, one more sacrifice, when she had lost so much? It was a grain of sand beside the mountain of sacrifice she had already given. Everything she had done she had done for the dignity and power of her house. So many sacrifices she had made to preserve its name and maintain its status through the years. Her own sweet, stubborn, willful, daughter had been among those terrible losses. Tragic deaths, all of them, but they had been for a cause. Now that cause was threatened, it teetered on the brink of nothingness.
This time, a small ivory and gold box twice the size of her palm was picked up and hurled across the room. It struck the wall with a sharp crack, then fell among the shattered glass, strings of pearls spilling out across the floor.
Everything had been coming together so well. Her project had progressed to the point where she was certain it was only a matter of time until success. Only a matter of time. Phaw. That had been dashed among the rocks for certain. It was all she could do to scrabble about in the dark picking up the scraps of the project. So many critical estates, gone.
Dwarven village was little more than a pile of toppled stones, her warehouses reduced to cinders. It was unlikely that she would salvage any of the raw materials which had been stored there awaiting shipment to her other facilities. She had been in Schuttgart when that fiasco had occurred. The fat little dwarf had run all the way from the village. Pathetic and dirty he had cowered at her feet, and babbled on incoherently for minutes about worms before he had even bothered to mention her estates being in danger! She had roused her personal guard, and every dark elf and dwarf in her service fit to hold a weapon. Well, except the engineers, she could not risk their minds, those she had locked in the kennels, just to be on the safe side. She did not really think they would flee if she left them unsupervised, they were better trained than that. They were only dwarves after all, barely better than humans if gifted at construction. It had surprised her how well they had fit in those cages, she would have to remember that. She had marched her soldiers all the way across that frozen snowy tundra that lay between Schuttgart and the Dwarven Village, and through those treacherous icy mountain passes to find that she was too late. Rubble, bodies, and fire had been everywhere. She had ordered those dwarves into the warehouses, still burning, to save what could be saved. Instead of securing crates of raw mithril they had tried to save other dirty dwarves trapped within the warehouses! The fools! To make matters even worse she had singed one of her favorite dresses in the process. For that, every last surviving dwarf in her service had been strapped, and rightfully so.
Her home, her beautiful subterranean mansion in Dark Elven Village was now quarantined! She hadn't found that out until she had tried to return there. She still didn't know how many of her loyal servants had been infected, or perished in that. A shame she would have to hire new ones now she supposed. This little hovel of an estate she was confined to now, was a pitiful thing indeed, only two dining rooms, and three sitting rooms, she enjoyed roughing it sometimes in little farm houses such as this for a night or two, but this was pushing it indeed. Hardly suitable for a noble of her stature.
In Schuttgart and Rune her workshops were grinding to a halt now, the lack of raw materials causing work stoppages across the board. Not just on her project either, no it was even causing delays with manufacturing the golem components. There were buyers waiting on those, even if they really were just a cover for the real manufacturing there, it stained her reputation when payments had to be returned and orders could not be met.
Something had happened on the Isle of Souls after her visit, thank Kain for that! She still was not certain what had happened. Whatever the cause, she was no longer receiving subjects for her experiments, and had received no word of explanation. She knew there was a link between the Kamael and harnessing the power of the giants. Any link to the sciences of the giants had to be explored thoroughly, and if possible harnessed for her project. Those power requirements were going to be problematic. Just powering the smaller scale prototype had exhausted her entire team of Elders and Mages. She was confident the answer was to be found within the Kamael or Giant sciences. If the island was no longer inhabited, it was likely that she had all the test subjects she would have. That meant she would have to be careful to make sure they lived now, that would slow down progress for certain. Unless she could find a new source for them.
Several other smaller estates had been swallowed up by strange phenomenon, and were now lost to creatures that seemed pulled straight out of nightmare. Those servants had fled with the rest of her kin to Talking Island of all places. The thought of setting foot on the island that had for so long belonged to humans alone was unpleasant to say the least. Better if that island had simply been allowed to sink into nothingness.
Of her fourteen facilities dedicated to her project only three were still operating, and one of those was due to run out of materials within the week. She plucked up a hand mirror and was about to throw it when she caught a glimse of herself in the mirror. She almost threw it too, but the visage in that glass was too compelling. Drawing it up she admired herself, a tiny island of calm among the icy rage. Slowly it melted away, replaced with concern and determination as she traced fine lines across her face. To her mind they stood out too sharply, a reminder she was no longer young, and that time was slipping away. She had to finish her project, and soon.
Forcing herself to look away she set the mirror down on the dresser before striking her hands together loudly. A startled servant's head poked through the doorway, and glanced about warily, cautious of flying objects while trying to heed the wordless summon. They were used to her moods, and knew that sudden calms were often followed by sudden storms. Still she found it irritating that he held back so.
Aurelia frowned at the servant. "What are you staring about like that for? Get a dustpan and clean up that mess." She did not pay them to gawk about like that. The man was half turned to go, at a run from the look of it when she lifted her hand again, pausing his motion. "Ah, before you do that, summon Jayden, I have need of his services as well."
The servant blinked stupidly at her. "Jayden, my lady?"
She bit back the rage that threatened to rise up at the man's stupidity. "Yes, Jayden, the man who brings me the news with my morning meals. Fetch him!" She snapped. Commoners could be so exasperating.
Understanding flickered in the dark elf's eyes, finally. "Ah, Jachim, great lady. Yes, of course, right away!" He bobbed a bow and scurried away before she could respond.
She stared after him, furiously. How dare he mock her like that. Was the man's name really Jachim? Well she could not be expected to know the name of every servant. How long had the man been giving her the morning briefings over her meals. A memory of him handing her a missive while she was wearing maternity clothes flitted through her memory. Had he really been in her service so long? She supposed that was at least forty years ago. Well, even so, she couldn't be expected to remember something so trivial as a commoner's name. Really. She had other things to do, like piece together the few remaining glass shards of her house, complete that all important project, throw back a goddess, and bind her beyond the seals once again. A daunting list. With duties like that who could be bothered to remember the name of a single servant.
Tapping her foot she frowned, what was taking Jachim so long?
Its owner, of course, knew all that and more about the glass and its origins. She was simply beyond caring in the midst of her icy fury. What was one more loss, one more sacrifice, when she had lost so much? It was a grain of sand beside the mountain of sacrifice she had already given. Everything she had done she had done for the dignity and power of her house. So many sacrifices she had made to preserve its name and maintain its status through the years. Her own sweet, stubborn, willful, daughter had been among those terrible losses. Tragic deaths, all of them, but they had been for a cause. Now that cause was threatened, it teetered on the brink of nothingness.
This time, a small ivory and gold box twice the size of her palm was picked up and hurled across the room. It struck the wall with a sharp crack, then fell among the shattered glass, strings of pearls spilling out across the floor.
Everything had been coming together so well. Her project had progressed to the point where she was certain it was only a matter of time until success. Only a matter of time. Phaw. That had been dashed among the rocks for certain. It was all she could do to scrabble about in the dark picking up the scraps of the project. So many critical estates, gone.
Dwarven village was little more than a pile of toppled stones, her warehouses reduced to cinders. It was unlikely that she would salvage any of the raw materials which had been stored there awaiting shipment to her other facilities. She had been in Schuttgart when that fiasco had occurred. The fat little dwarf had run all the way from the village. Pathetic and dirty he had cowered at her feet, and babbled on incoherently for minutes about worms before he had even bothered to mention her estates being in danger! She had roused her personal guard, and every dark elf and dwarf in her service fit to hold a weapon. Well, except the engineers, she could not risk their minds, those she had locked in the kennels, just to be on the safe side. She did not really think they would flee if she left them unsupervised, they were better trained than that. They were only dwarves after all, barely better than humans if gifted at construction. It had surprised her how well they had fit in those cages, she would have to remember that. She had marched her soldiers all the way across that frozen snowy tundra that lay between Schuttgart and the Dwarven Village, and through those treacherous icy mountain passes to find that she was too late. Rubble, bodies, and fire had been everywhere. She had ordered those dwarves into the warehouses, still burning, to save what could be saved. Instead of securing crates of raw mithril they had tried to save other dirty dwarves trapped within the warehouses! The fools! To make matters even worse she had singed one of her favorite dresses in the process. For that, every last surviving dwarf in her service had been strapped, and rightfully so.
Her home, her beautiful subterranean mansion in Dark Elven Village was now quarantined! She hadn't found that out until she had tried to return there. She still didn't know how many of her loyal servants had been infected, or perished in that. A shame she would have to hire new ones now she supposed. This little hovel of an estate she was confined to now, was a pitiful thing indeed, only two dining rooms, and three sitting rooms, she enjoyed roughing it sometimes in little farm houses such as this for a night or two, but this was pushing it indeed. Hardly suitable for a noble of her stature.
In Schuttgart and Rune her workshops were grinding to a halt now, the lack of raw materials causing work stoppages across the board. Not just on her project either, no it was even causing delays with manufacturing the golem components. There were buyers waiting on those, even if they really were just a cover for the real manufacturing there, it stained her reputation when payments had to be returned and orders could not be met.
Something had happened on the Isle of Souls after her visit, thank Kain for that! She still was not certain what had happened. Whatever the cause, she was no longer receiving subjects for her experiments, and had received no word of explanation. She knew there was a link between the Kamael and harnessing the power of the giants. Any link to the sciences of the giants had to be explored thoroughly, and if possible harnessed for her project. Those power requirements were going to be problematic. Just powering the smaller scale prototype had exhausted her entire team of Elders and Mages. She was confident the answer was to be found within the Kamael or Giant sciences. If the island was no longer inhabited, it was likely that she had all the test subjects she would have. That meant she would have to be careful to make sure they lived now, that would slow down progress for certain. Unless she could find a new source for them.
Several other smaller estates had been swallowed up by strange phenomenon, and were now lost to creatures that seemed pulled straight out of nightmare. Those servants had fled with the rest of her kin to Talking Island of all places. The thought of setting foot on the island that had for so long belonged to humans alone was unpleasant to say the least. Better if that island had simply been allowed to sink into nothingness.
Of her fourteen facilities dedicated to her project only three were still operating, and one of those was due to run out of materials within the week. She plucked up a hand mirror and was about to throw it when she caught a glimse of herself in the mirror. She almost threw it too, but the visage in that glass was too compelling. Drawing it up she admired herself, a tiny island of calm among the icy rage. Slowly it melted away, replaced with concern and determination as she traced fine lines across her face. To her mind they stood out too sharply, a reminder she was no longer young, and that time was slipping away. She had to finish her project, and soon.
Forcing herself to look away she set the mirror down on the dresser before striking her hands together loudly. A startled servant's head poked through the doorway, and glanced about warily, cautious of flying objects while trying to heed the wordless summon. They were used to her moods, and knew that sudden calms were often followed by sudden storms. Still she found it irritating that he held back so.
Aurelia frowned at the servant. "What are you staring about like that for? Get a dustpan and clean up that mess." She did not pay them to gawk about like that. The man was half turned to go, at a run from the look of it when she lifted her hand again, pausing his motion. "Ah, before you do that, summon Jayden, I have need of his services as well."
The servant blinked stupidly at her. "Jayden, my lady?"
She bit back the rage that threatened to rise up at the man's stupidity. "Yes, Jayden, the man who brings me the news with my morning meals. Fetch him!" She snapped. Commoners could be so exasperating.
Understanding flickered in the dark elf's eyes, finally. "Ah, Jachim, great lady. Yes, of course, right away!" He bobbed a bow and scurried away before she could respond.
She stared after him, furiously. How dare he mock her like that. Was the man's name really Jachim? Well she could not be expected to know the name of every servant. How long had the man been giving her the morning briefings over her meals. A memory of him handing her a missive while she was wearing maternity clothes flitted through her memory. Had he really been in her service so long? She supposed that was at least forty years ago. Well, even so, she couldn't be expected to remember something so trivial as a commoner's name. Really. She had other things to do, like piece together the few remaining glass shards of her house, complete that all important project, throw back a goddess, and bind her beyond the seals once again. A daunting list. With duties like that who could be bothered to remember the name of a single servant.
Tapping her foot she frowned, what was taking Jachim so long?