Pax Balthasar Summary: post your recess write up here

[Guido Cercatoro]

Pax Balthasar

Pax was established in Samheen 1224 AD as a haven for the many pagans whose beliefs were no longer tolerated in other areas of the Kingdom. Within a short space of time, the new arrivals established a small town mainly consisting of a few wooden shacks which housed their homes and a number of fledgling businesses. They were assisted in their endeavours by the Pax Honestus legion, whilst engineers began work on constructing fortifications for the town.

A mere few tides after the first refugees arrived, signs began to emerge that something was not quite right. The partly constructed walls were mysteriously transformed overnight into a long, elegant stone wall that completely encircled the town; wolves roamed the streets at gravetide, never seen but claiming many guards as victims; rumours spread of a number of new arrivals speaking and dressing strangely, of swords emerging out of thin air and of new rooms appearing in recently built houses. With the Provost missing and supplies running short, an air of fear gripped much of the town.

Given the strange events occurring in Pax, it was not surprising that many refugees decided to return through the portal when the peace treaty was signed that ended the War of the One. However, most chose to stay, relishing the opportunities and freedom offered to them despite the strangeness of the town. Some turned to religion for comfort and it was rumoured that a priestess of the Father of the Heavens was active in the town. Despite the adversity, fields began to yield produce, businesses began to prosper and some small scale exports of timber products from the nearby forest flowed through the portal. The business men and women of the town formed a Merchant’s Council to promote their interests. In addition, the appointment of a new Provost offered the hope of a more secure future.

In the early part of 1225 AD, the strange transformation of the town, which had begun with the walls, gathered pace. Many of the wooden buildings gradually changed into strange twisted edifices - part stone, part wood as if the original buildings had half grown into something new but then stopped before the change was complete. The number of residents who spoke and dressed strangely appeared to be increasing and a new word was whispered throughout the town: Selderine.

[Torc Blackfoot]

Over the few days of battle and death Torc had taken wounds from the heathen woodsmen. The city was surviving but only by a thread. Soldiers were dying, Torc himself had several wounds that should have placed him in the infirmary but the walls needed every man and he had already seen the death of his few friends on the isle. Zeke had been one of the better scouts and shot, yet a freak shot had slice open his throat like a knife through freshly churn butter. Torc would have used magic to heal him, but he lacked the knowledge and the concentration. He had used magic to try and kill the enemy, but in the end when he had wanted to save a friend it was the pain of an arrow through his arm that stopped it. Poor Scipio had been freshly pulled from the farm. The poor kid had been in one of the pushes threw the gate, and the Centaurs had show just how efficient they were at killing.

And the day began again, by now there were few men on the walls; orders had been issued for rally points within the city to fall back on. Yet on the end of Samheen, Torc felt the dry leathery tongue scrap the roof of his mouth for moisture. He had been on half rations for a few days, and today the gnawing in his stomach had stopped. He had gone so long that he almost hated the sight of food. So slowly Torc moved forward to the edge of the battlements, there was a brief flicker were he thought of jumping off instead of relieving himself, but he kept on not for any other reason then to fight for his fellow man.

They had fallen back several times now. Torc even saw the King’s banner at the rally point. They were fighting for there life’s, no more was there hope for victory, Torc prayed for life at this time. Yet every time there seemed to be a moment of dismissal lost the king’s banner surged forward and broke the attack.

There they stood before the gateway. Torc and a few remaining soldiers of the pan’s invasion force stood with the King’s own guard. Torc had never seen King Balthasar till that day, and for once Torc felt like he belonged to the kingdom. He had a place in the world and it seemed like he was going to die in it. And then the panling vanguard hit the small western kingdom force, death and the spray of blood fill the air, and then that magickal moment when the heart of a group of men is cut out happened. Within the chaos of battle Balthasar had received a killing blow and the soldiers knew it. They might not have known who dealt it, but in the end it didn’t matter he was dead. Everything shattered, men who had seemed stronger then any other ten became weak old men. And with every step back, Torc felt death coming. Then somewhere out in the city a horn blew. The panlings retreated from a group of men, numbering less then twenty.

The panlings had accepted a treaty from the Merchant Council, they had won but the payment for this piece of dirt was the blood of the Western kingdom. He had help prepare Balthasar’s body upon his shield and in the dirt he had found a scrap of his banner. He had held in his fist has he searched for his friends bodies. It had taken days going through bodies within the city. When he had finally found them he took them off to the countryside and buried there bodies overlooking the forest and city they had fought for.

For a week Torc had been bed ridden in the Aveas as he recovered from his wounds. The council had decided that for those few left that had survived the war, they were given permits to walk free among men, and when they had brought that permit to Torc he had wanted to burn them to death. It was insulting; to be judged by those who hadn’t seen real men die. Torc felt more assured of himself, he felt that the world had given a place in history. He had seen the beginning of an age, and the death of an old one. He had kept the permit along with the scrap of banner, to remind him that he had fought with real men and had been born anew. He knew that his place was no longer with the World’s Mouth, nor was it on there colony. No his place was else where and so Torc sat in mediation, practicing divination to find that place. During his time of questing Torc sold his services to the common folk. Making small cantrips of magick for luck, placing setting wards against disease on crops, and even divining for a girls who wanted to know there loves desire. In Torc’s wandering his strength of self developed as well as his magic.

Insults were still flung his way, but he cared not for the weak men that said them. As he wandered he came across the city of Brie. Families were rebuilding and Torc saw within them the struggle for life, so he settled putting his focus into elementalism and healing farm animals with magic. He used his divination to help pick good crops and he made a shelter for his hermitage. He took pleasure from helping the community, but knew that his magick still scaried them, and that his pointed ears were still a sight for anger.

Torc was feeling at peace within the hut, herbs were hung about the ceiling drying. He had bought a small leather book, he took time to write the healing powers of the herbs, and how his magic could enhance them when he drew runes. The people began to heal, and in the end he was happy. From his experiences with the herbs he wrote upon the great magickal artifact he would one day create to purify the waters of the Mouth. By Chyril 10eh, Torc had made a name for himself as a hedge wizard that would help the poor. Torc’s weapons were locked away, just like his fathers and day upon day of mediation about magic filled Torc. Then the sense of something anew came to him. A sense that someone was coming to uproot this small pleasant life of his, and turn in from the path of a hedge mage.

It was an average day in Brie, the birds sang the golden wheat fields were swaying in the wind, and Torc had just sold a warding against insects to a grainary. It would protect the grain from mites and bowevils. While Torc had enough grain for the rest of the winter, now if he could just get that damn forester to sell some lumber for his fire place. As he walked down the path feeling the scar of the arrow wound in his arm flare from having to carry the sack of grain, he saw a traveling merchant coming into town.

The merchant turned out to be from Pax looking to sell goods for grain. He brought news of the greater world to the recovering town, and to Torc’s ears he when he heard of the nighttime strangeness in Pax, he had the feeling that magic was at play. Knowing that it was foolish to take off, he needed to know that some dark mage wasn’t feeding off dark energies at night. Creating some dark fortress and then enslaving the people, of course it could be another powerful mage making sure that the people of Pax were save.

So the next day he took down needs of the blacksmith and a few more tradesmen that he liked, and began to pack for the long trip to Pax.

He arrived at Pax on the Morningtide of Chyril 22nd to find a few answers and hopefully leave before the answers found him.

Skills increase:

Manipulation of Energy: Sorcery +3 stars
Healing (Non-Magical): + 1 stars
Runescribing (wards): +1 stars
Meditation: +2 stars
Runewriting (wards): +1 stars
Shielding (Sorcery): +1 stars
Smaller Blades: +1 stars

Edited: skill section based off of updated skills

[Dartimos Hammer]

Dartimos Hammer got up, splashed some water on his face and slipped on his breeches and a shirt. Heading out of the house and over to the shop, he could tell Oswald was sleeping in this morning. Well, he had earned it. Dartimos and his older brother had put in Nether-blessed hours two weeks ago getting over a hundred pair of horseshoes ready for sale in the capital. Then while Dartimos stayed in Pax and caught up on the local orders Oswald Hammer had gone to the capital and negotiated for their sale. Not to mention that Seela and the children had stayed here. The house was sturdy wood and well built, but Darti still couldn’t help overhearing the private greeting that went on after the children had been put to bed.

Arriving at the forge, he pumped the bellows a few times over the banked coals before starting to add more fuel to get the fire well stoked. His body continuing with the tasks that we so familiar, his mind had time to reflect back on his time in Pax. He remembered arriving and being awed by the new walls. Reaching out and feeling the magic in them. The disappointment of that first week when he found out that Rowena was no longer in town, no one had ever heard of Fedor Muspilli or the [b]Children of the Fire[b]. Catching a cold the second day here. The only thing that made it almost bearable were the letters to Cloe, but postage through the gate was expensive and could not afford to write very often. He had almost given up then and turned back to Gehearan College, but he was to stubborn for that. He had found a flat hard rock that he could use as a temporary anvil and made his first couple of banners putting edges back on the soldiers swords and the locals knives.

He had written to his father and told him about the life here, how it was hard, but the people were good people, much like Snowcrest. He hadn’t really expected a reply, but a week later Oswald and family were at his door with a wagon full of supplies. With Denny being the eldest, he explained, Oswald knew he would always be the second son. Here he was a master smith in his own right. Together the brothers unloaded the anvil, the bellows and other tools and soon the city of Pax Balthasar could claim its own full smithy.

It was the next full moon that he had the vision. There was a party outside and a bonfire to provide cheer. Dartimos saw a spirit walk out of the flames. The same spirits he had seen in World’s Mouth.

Be patient the voice had told him. It is not yet time. In the spring we will call for you and your studies can begin in earnest. It was clear from the way everyone else ignored what had happened that the vision was his and his alone. So he worked, and waited, and as best as he could, enjoyed life.


Skills:
New - Weaponsmith - Five Stars
Blacksmith to Apprentice - Two Stars
Tin / Gold Smith - Plus One Star
Meditation - Plus One Star
Inner Calm - Plus One Star

[Guido Cercatoro]

Torc

After recovering from the wounds that he had suffered during the war, Torc made his way to the town of Brie and entered a much more peaceful existence. Whilst there was some suspicion of both his magic and appearance at first, the skills he offered overcame most local prejudice and the achadheil became a well-know figure around the town. He was able to make only a modest living from his services, for the local people were relatively poor. However, his ability to help the locals gave him great satisfaction and he was able to learn a number of new skills.

Torc’s sojourn in Brie was interrupted by news of strange events in Pax and the achadheil left his peaceful backwater to journey to the new city.

(Skilled and average income awarded - Please note you cannot raise a skill to journeyman with your stars so I have just put 2 stars into manipulatuion of energy and an extra one in healing. Let me know if you prefer something else.)

Dartimos

If Dartimos had been disappointed at his inability to find either Rowena or any news of Fedor Muspilli, then his spirits were raised by the arrival of his brother Oswald. Working diligently, using the supplies brought by his brother, a working smithy was rapidly erected. At first it was rudimentary but by the end of Chyrill, it resembled the typical smithy seen throughout the kingdom. And business was good, for there was little competition and a considerable demand for weapons and a variety of other equipment. Oswald was happy but when Dartimos saw the spirit in the fire, he knew that come the spring, his adventures would begin anew.

(Skilled and average income awarded.)

[Guest]

Cyranette Vespasia had come to Pax with grand intentions, even if it could not be said that she had any grand plans in particular. But, much to her chagrin, these were soon forgotten in favour of the more practical tasks of eking out a living in a new home and preparing for the winter that was beginning to set in.

Having always lived with her mother, Ranna had never had to look after herself so completely, and the seeming enormity of the task often wore her down, especially in the early days while she was still struggling to get established. Her seething resentment gradually gave way to a murky depression. She had no knowledge of land or how to manage it, and often felt jealous of the town's other inhabitants, many of whom were able to grow vegetables for their own use or even tend to an attractive garden. Most of the last of her coin went on paying some of the locals to build her a simple two-room house, and keeping this clean and tidy took up much of her time, for Ranna was somewhat obsessive about such things.

Ranna also felt herself separated from the other inhabitants of the town in another way. Because of the nature of Pax Balthasar's founding, religion was always a point people could use to bond with each other. But Ranna was a worshipper of Dominicus, in name at least - the intolerant god whose followers had enforced this wretched separation. She felt that she would be ostracised for this, and, whether or not there was any truth in her theory, it was enough to convince her not to actively go out and socialise as she had done in her home city.

This lack of contact had one very important effect: Ranna did not hear about the independence of World's Mouth for a long time, and had no idea about its accompanying relaxation of religious rigidity. Had she had an inkling, she would certainly have packed what bags she had at once and set off back to her former home, at least in the early days. But she was never in possession of enough of the facts at once to see the whole picture and realise that there was nothing standing in her way.

One of the achadhiel's biggest fears, that of having to make a living through manual work, fortunately never came to pass. On a trip to the general store one day in early Yulember to buy some household basics, she overheard a few of the town's merchants talking about the foundation of the new Merchant's Council and the need for a literate person with a legible hand and some knowledge of legal formalities to act as a clerk for the organisation. Ranna seized the opportunity and offered herself up. and from that point onwards was employed to deal with the council's correspondence and to record its meetings in exchange for a small monetary allowance.

Although the role was far from interesting or influential, it suited the young achadhiel well enough for the time being. She learned from it, too, filling in the gaps of her previously very patchy knowledge of numbers and counting. It provided her with items that were otherwise expensive to obtain in Pax, too, such as ink and parchment, and she never hesitated to appropriate some quantities of these for her own use whenever she felt she could get away with it. Some evenings, when it was too windy or wet to go outside, she practised her skills in forging documents, although she never felt confident enough to attempt to use what she produced for personal gain.

The job also put her in a position to be useful to someone else. Soon after starting the new job she approached the man she'd heard about on her first night in the town, Morton Wanesman, offering to be his eyes and ears on the council in exchange for a few coin here and there. The black marketeer, after all, only stood to profit from knowing exactly what the other leading merchants of the town were up to. Ranna's dealings with the bloated Trader disgusted her, and the man continually tried to lever more out of her, asking her to intercept letters and to alter numbers on contracts to his benefit. Most of these extra tasks Ranna refused, but there were times when she felt as if she had no choice, and she grudgingly complied. In actual fact the Trader likely profited far more out of their cooperation that Ranna herself, but she accepted this as a necessary evil arising from her newness in town. In truth, the familiar thrill of being involved in something vaguely criminal was worth more to her than the money. She did not mention the details of her own criminal past from the man, and as far as she knew Wanesman had no idea about her activities as a forger and counterfeiter. That, at least, was a card she had yet to play.

This lifestyle was one that Ranna could live with, and in her free time she went on long, rambling walks alone around the borders of the forest and the mountains and along the River Clearwater - although after a close encounter with a few wolves, she became very cautious about going outside the wall after dark. Every now and then, strange things would happen, seemingly with increasing frequency. Buildings would change their aspect, and curious artefacts would turn up. These events did not disconcert the young achadhiel, though. Instead these happenings just served to remind her of the strange man she had met on her first night, the man she had claimed as her brother and called Angelo, and this always brought a smile to her face. She hadn't sold the hair clip he'd given her, despite what her instincts had told her, but kept it and in fact wore it in her own long hair on occasion.

With the advent of spring came a renewed sense of hope and confidence. Cyranette now felt ready to start taking a more active role in her own affairs, and the affairs of others, too.

Skills:
***** - Maths (new skill)
*** - Literacy [Human] (to Basic+***)
** - Forgery (to Basic+**)

[Guido Cercatoro]

Cyranette

With the winter coming, Cyranette prioritised the building of her new home and, whilst it was no palace, it enabled the achadheil to survive the colder weather in a degree of comfort. She was fortunate enough to obtain a job with the newly formed merchant’s council. Whilst not the most scintillating of jobs, it did at least afford her time to practice and develop her skills in mathematics, literacy and, of course, forgery. Moreover, it gave her access to useful information – a fact which was soon recognised by Morton Wanesman and, Ranna, somewhat reluctantly became his eyes and ears in the Council. She hated dealing with the man, who leered at her at every opportunity. Nevertheless, it did at least supplement her meagre income.

Observing the strange events taking place in Pax, the achadheil often mused on what had happened to Angelo. Strangely, her “brother” appeared to have vanished.

(Skilled – welcome to Chyril! I”ll post a location for the council building as soon as I have time )

[Guest]

After his misadventure with Vernon the woodsman, the dwarven stonemason retreated to Pax with his tail between his legs - much like his new companion Odif. Unsure what to do, unsure what to reveal, he searched the fledgeling city for the priestess Nyrellon. In Stahl's mind she must have at least some answers to his questions, some way to appease his conscience. It felt as if he'd knocked on every door in his quest for her, but he could not find her. She had dissolved into thin air as well it seemed. With a sudden uprising of panic the bearded dwarf noted that all the people he'd met during his short stay in Pax Balthasar had vanished. Panting and neigh on crazy with worry he found himself on Kaelara's doorstep only flickers later. To his immense relief she was still there. With a strangled cry of distress he flung his muscular arms around the woman's slender waist. The soft whine of the huge dog behind Stahl'Or added to the thick atmosphere of fear, guild and relief. The only person in the whole of Pax listened to his trot to the mysterious tower in the forest clearing. Afterwards the bald dwarf was relieved to have vented his heart and mind in this way. Compassionate, the wheaten haired adhiel told him he couldn't be held accountable. After all he'd warned his tall companion to run and Vernon had ignored him. Not quite convinced the dwarf settled down enough to return home.

In the following weeks little happened to remind him of his lost friend, although the now constant companionship of Odif was a nettling reminder. Luckily enough strange things were about to happen, making sure the dwarven mind was thoroughly diverted. First off he buried his head in the sand...or rather in stone as he set to work on his home. With an unhealthy eagerness he went about the task. Stubbornly he quarried stone and piled it atop one another until finally his house stood tall. During this time Stahl'Or befriended his new canine mate in earnest. Odif even enjoyed helping by pulling some of the larger stones to their building site. The sled for this they acquired at Kaelara's.

Well, any excuse would do the dwarf just right. As long as he could walk into her shop once every other day, he was a happy man. What used to be a light crush, passed through puberty to mature into a strong love. Of course Stahl couldn't tell the elfling about his feelings. Who had ever heard of a more ridiculous match? An adhiel and a dwarf? Incroyable. Improbable! His feelings didn't interfere with their friendship, though. As the steady shopper that he was, and certainly not backing away from his promise to keep an eye on her and her shop, the squarish mason and the elegant shopkeeper found an easy understanding and honest companionship in each other.

Stahl's life returned to a pleasant normality; at odds with his surroundings. After all, wolves roamed the city - gnawing away at the guards - and houses morphed into strangely twisted shapes. As this last phenomenon picked up pace Kaelara's shop was one of the first to fall prey to it. At first it was rather alarming, but the artist in him appreciated the randomness and elegance in the emerging shapes. Some of Pax's inhabitants were of like mind, but some were not. Those people appealed to the dwarven mason to rectify the problem. Stahl'Or foresaw the work and time he'd have to invest to help them all, and set a steep prize. After all he was a businessman. At first it put most of his potential clients off, but after it became clear that the dwarf's own home wasn't affected by the strange, magical influence, contracts flooded in. If it weren't for Odif and the dog's need for exercise, his reluctance to stay away from Kaelara's Corner for too long, and his interest in good ale, he would have worked himself to death. He might have left a fortune for the one lucky enough to come upon his silent form, but it just didn't happen that way. His coffers filled out nicely, but Stahl didn't become truly rich. The dwarf found it hard to explain why the house he build didn't fall prey to the city's strangeness. He wondered whether his - one sided - chat with the Spirit of the Land had something to do with it. Practical as he was, the auburn dwarf shrugged it off and just rode the horse he'd been given, wherever it might take him.

As the threat of wolves in the night increased more of the new arrivals preferred a stone house over a wooden one. Of course it was all pshychological, but Stahl didn't complain. He even had to hire some able hands to fulfill all his contracts and still he didn't manage. A waiting list slowly build up, securing a rather rosy future for the stone mason. Cyranette Vespasia was one of the freshly arrived citizens to call on him. As her wish of a two room house was rather easily realized Stahl obliged and constructed a sturdy home for her. (Wouldn't it be hilarious to meet her in the pub and greet her as if I knew her? *chuckles*)

With a host of satisfied customers now knowing him well, Stahl returned to his storytelling vocation. Many a night he could be found at the counter of the Nether's Gate Tavern, telling hilarious drinking tales and emtying an impressive amount of ale mugs. With his reputation growing and his business flourishing it was only natural that he took an interest in the Merchant's Council. His gentle nature mixed with his tendency for chaotic, illogical behavior didn't make him a likely candidate for it, but he sure wanted to keep his finger at the city's pulse. After all, a well informed dwarf is a prepared dwarf.



2. Conversation: + * * (2)
3. Creating Stories: + * * (2)
4. Jesting: + * * (2)
12. Stone Masonry: + * * * * (4)

total: 10

(OOC: Darn' wanted to be a great mason by now . No problem, rest of it is approved, so why dawdle, eh? The write up for Stahl's home will be coming up asap. Thanks!)

[Guido Cercatoro]

Stahl

Mystified by the disappearance of many of his acquaintances, Stahl spent the winter months engrossed in his stonemason’s work. He finished his own home and made a success of satisfying the demand for homes generated by the many newcomers to the town, including Cyranette. That he was becoming a success was made plain to the dwarf when he was asked to become a member of the newly formed Merchant’s Council. The dwarf became a well-known figure around town, always flanked by his faithful dog, Odif, who appeared to be very satisfied with his new master. Stahl's storytelling in the local tavern also added to his reputation as one of the leading citizens of the new town.

Apart from his work, his blossoming friendship with Kaelara increasingly occupied the mind of the dwarf. There was no sign that she thought of him as anything more than a friend but the friendship deepened and became something that both treasured. As winter turned into spring, the dwarf heard a rumour that Nyrellon had been seen once again in Pax. Whether this was true or not, the dwarf could not say, for if the priestess had returned, she made no attempt to seek out the dwarf.

(OOC: Approved and average income awarded. Only 4 stars allowed in any one skill I’m afraid, so please re-allocate 2 of the *s away from stonemasonry and then I’ll update your skills and income. Would you also like to send me an updated description for your business/home sometime, so I can change the description in the sticky?)

[Guest]

Changed it Guido. Take a peek. Nothing major, but it should do me nicely.

[Kaelara Mentahn]

A driving force spurred Kaelara to Pax unwillingly, stripping both family and the accustomed life-style of middle class comfort from her. The volatility of this new and over-regulated refugee city left little time for regrets and sorrow, as events moved quickly, and the young Adhiel maid was forced to either move with them or be left, penniless and broken, in the dust.

A flurry of planning, building of connections, and raising of funds followed her as the days and weeks passed, her efforts spurred by a desire to push free of any and all boundaries that stood in her way. The city would not fund the desperate need she felt to build trade, so she sought out smugglers and merchants alike, rallied those willing to invest in her efforts to reach Roque D'Ancourt and, without jeopardizing her morals too greatly, wheedled, needled, bargained, cajoled and stubbornly persisted until contacts between cities were made and food began flowing once more into her shop's stores. With the continued absence of Anarion, she watched avidly as a new Provost was selected. To her general disgust and naievete, she was unceremoniously passed over, youthfulness and inexperience working against her, despite her recent successes. Although disappointment with her immediate goals was swiftly becoming her daily bread, her vision and plans began to stretch beyond that of the next day, week or month, and began to carry the weight of planning for the years to come. While not necessarily a household name (yet), she strove to continue providing for the basic needs of Pax in what ways she could, and built a comfortable acquaintance with many of the other common folk in the city due to her willingness to listen. Wherever she goes, her ears carefully gauge the conversations around her, for she is constantly striving to be aware of the tone and under-currents in the city.

By the time the Merchant Council became a formal body, Kaelara had garnered enough of a reputation as a shrewd (or at the least, persistent) businesswoman to find a voice there. Spurred by her hidden fears of Pax returning to the harshly regulated refugee camp of its origins, she was vocal on matters of free trade and the importance of Pax finding it's own textile niche, for if Pax were to grow and succeed, it must have something with which to barter. During the reshuffling of occupants after the signing of the Treaty and the end of the war, multiple spaces within the town opened up. Grateful for this opportunity to shift her operations away from the racy Nether's Gate Tavern, she found a lovely one-story building, somewhat smaller than her previous home. Her new shop was pleasantly located a few buildings down from Annuir and the knowledgable (though slightly psychotic) man who ran it. The building originally began as a quaint, one story affair, but along with the various changes whispering breezily along the streets, after her acquisition, it had sprouted a stone basement and a partial second story. The stone-like bricks seemed to clamber up each other in chucks, displacing wood as they sprouted along corners and walls. She shifted her living quarters to the tiny second story, more than content with the small living space in exchange for the expansive space for wares and storage.

Maintaining a diverse web of contacts, she communicated with various questionable folk from her beginnings in Pax, such as Brynn. With communication open between them, they each continue to lend assistance to the other - though Kaelara has distanced herself from the more questionable pursuits, wishing to maintain a certain moral standard. With restrictions being done away with during a period after the war and treaty, it was not difficult to find a mutually beneficial routine for their dealings. Should anything untoward necessitate it, there was an understanding of mutual assistance between them, and because of their respective positions, each was able to find information of use to the other.

Within her community, there were only two who maintained any meaningful relationship with her. Friendly and polite as she was, Kaelara found it difficult to truly invest anything personal in most of those she encountered. Stahl, shy and brusquely sweet, was one she trusted nearly absolutely. Although never quite able to pinpoint the moment where their acquaintance had become friendship, and friendship become good companions, in the course since that first meeting in her shop, the two had exchanged one another's histories, failures, fears and goals around many a crackling hearth and cup of tea (or whiskey, depending on the occasion.) Blithely unaware of the dwarf's feelings, she greatly enjoyed his company, and indeed, he was the only one in Pax who had open access to her shop or home whenever he wished to come by. As it was, he knew more of her history and her family's roots in the Underground movement before the war than anyone else. The absolute dearth of communication with her family, despite her repeated attempts, had become a rather bitter topic for her of late, and her earliest expressions of hope had been replaced by a pretense of uncaring. The few times the loneliness of this lack had overwhelmed her, she had appreciated his friendly ear and patient brogue.

His skills found the occasional use, as well, for Kaelara did not forget their initial conversation and the haggling which had introduced them to each other. As his other duties and time allowed, she exchanged supplies for the occasional tweak of her new premises. Indeed, due to his skillful work, she now had a small hidden chamber within the walls of twisted stone that formed her basement. In exchange, she had provided him many materials for his own business. With the recent past still fresh in her mind, she had not let go of her plans for a secret tunnel, yet the process was slow and arduous, due to the simple matter of keeping it hidden. Her retreat could fit two people of moderate height, and until Stahl had the time and energy for more, she was content with that.

The other person with whom she visited regularly was Seth, the proprietor of Annuir, with whom she practiced her grasp of language, and studied the books he was frequently happy to lend her. His psychoses waxed and waned, but despite her occasional discomfort in such situations, he was a valuable resource and even, as the time passed, a kind of friend who genuinely enjoyed her company. So, despite this, she found herself settling into a chair in Annuir and cajoling and debating with him about his library collection almost weekly.

As the 6 months passed, she took on short-term apprentices, older teens who previously hadn't many useful skills. Invariably, she taught them a few tricks of her trade, mentored them, and was rewarded by relatively inexpensive labor in exchange for some training. Even when they would pass on to another postion elsewhere, she made sure to keep in loose touch with them. Knowing that her overtures would be well-received, she counted on this as just one more way to help her garner knowledge about what was happening within the strange encircling walls of Pax. With this in mind, she even took on a Oneist youth, a child of one of the Honestus.

Eulalia, her horse, has found residence with a local family. In exchange for caring for the equine, the family get the use of it throughout the week, with one day a week set aside for Kaelara to make any necessary deliveries.

As the future once more looms, she finds herself poised for action - but of what kind, she is uncertain. She only knows that something stirs within the city, it's people and among those on the council... and she plans on preparing to meet it. For the moment, she is content with shop and the merchant's council, but her intent is to further herself before it is time for another Provost to be chosen - next time, she will not be passed over.

13 Language [Human] ~ Basic+** (*** -> Apprentice)
14 Leadership ~ Basic+*** (** -> Apprentice
15 Literacy [Adhiel] ~ Basic (****)
18 Negotiation ~ Basic+**** (+* -> Apprentice)

[Guido Cercatoro]

Times were hard in Pax for the first wave of refugees. However, through a combination of hard work and shrewdness, Kaelara made a success of her business. She became firm friends with the dwarf, Stahl, who also developed a thriving stonemason’s business in the town. The adheil was soon invited to join the fledgling Merchant’s Council, which under the leadership of Mathaeus Klebb, rapidly grew in influence and importance. In her dealings with the council, Kaelara often came across the new clerk to the council, Cyranette Vespasia who appeared to be an efficient administrator of the council’s affairs.

Kaelara’s ambitions to become the new Provost were thwarted with the imposition of an outside candidate, Marcel Sanguine, son of one of the Border Lords. Rumour had it that he had done something to disgrace his father, the Lord of Foreno, and had been dispatched to Pax as punishment. Whether such rumours were true, was impossible to say. However, despite his youth, the newcomer was an amiable and able administrator who had overcome much initial distrust to become popular within the town.

Although she had maintained contact with Brynn, the smuggler had been quiet of late. Perhaps this reflected the growing power of Morton Wanesman (Trader) whom, it was said, could obtain anything for the right price.

The adheil often visited the strange Seth and the equally strange Annuir – part tavern, part library. Although the blond man allowed her to read many of his books, the adheil learned little more of Selderine. However, she increasingly heard the name on the lips of many of the town’s new residents. It was spoken in hushed tones as if, for some reason, the people of Pax were reluctant to directly confront what lay behind the name.

(OOC: skilled – you may now post in Pax )