The Council of the Forgotten Seasonal Meeting- Summer- ???
Sept 23, 2014 0:45:36 GMT -5
Post by Thorlah on Sept 23, 2014 0:45:36 GMT -5
Hello!
I suppose you're curious where the Councilum Ducks and Pious Pete are. They're the ones that usually post the seasonal minutes, and information.
Well, things change, even in the land of Zaros.
Do keep it in mind as you watch their meticulously built little world get...shaken up a bit.
See, all it takes is one act, and it begins to happen on its own.
Here's my first act.
-Ire of Phyrrys 22nd, 2:18 AM
Sixth Ward was always so quiet, even in the days when it was just a measly group of refugees clinging to dusty, musty old books and people.
She appeared, walking in a steady motion, confident and as self-assured as she was.
The footfalls could belong to no one other than Councilor Margot.
Born to a Faladian squire and a Burthorpian chemist, Margot held her existence as something beyond others.
Critics of the locals would claim this as a common act of Saradominists, but in return I would say that duplicity is our common act.
Critics may not agree, but this trait was uncommon, which made their departure from those lands after the Invention's use not entirely unwelcome.
They were the 'strange people' of the town they called home, and were frequently admonishing their kind and hard-working fellows behind their backs. The very drivel they spoke was said to be as acidic as venom in blood, and as caustic as lava.
For a group of Saradominists to shun you, you must be quite the unsavory sort, and Margot's parents were indeed of the unsavory sort.
Well aware of their standing in the community, they immediately paid the first caravan that passed compliments, even if they were as empty as their supposed new patron was.
Albeit hesitant, the Zarosian caravan accepted them in upon the furnishing of essential supplies, and vital information of the populations nearby, stolen from a Temple Knight outpost.
Margot herself was born in Year 22 of the Seventh Age, and though she'd vehemently deny it, was born in a druidic homestead.
Why in a homestead of Druids, you ask?
Bitter old Margot has quite a few secrets in her past, and one big one is the very fact her parents were excommunicated from the Church of Zaros, after betraying two-thirds of the refugees to their probable demise south of Rellekka.
Her parents raised her strictly, and gave her unbreakable guidelines to follow in her path in life.
Shame for them that these rules convinced her to murder them.
On looting their offices, she discovered their former ties to the Zarosians, and sought out said people, eventually finding Councilors Errman and Herman. Neither knew of her secrets, but her information was verified and indisputable.
More will be revealed in due time, but for now, we return to the Councilor, confidently walking the Sixth Ward's dark streets alone.
The Councilor glared at any living soul she passed, annoyed with their incessant blathering about this and that.
She had lived in the lap of luxury for most of her life, and that was what she held most dear. Any front or mask she had to wear was child's play.
But as she rounded Cyrisus Street (named after a long-forgotten hero that predecessors had come to admire), she found herself confronted by me, in person.
"What? What are you doing here!? I thought my last letter was enough!"
"Shh!" I said with a grin. "We needn't make a fuss in the middle of the night, right?"
"Then why are you here?"
I slipped back into the abyss of the alleyway, and gestured for her to follow.
Foolishly, she did.
"I already told you what you wanted to know, so stop the charade and go away."
"But have I? Have I truly stopped? Or are you just hoping desperately that I'm that short-sighted?"
I took my mask off, and revealed to her my true face.
"You?" she nearly choked out.
"Oh yes, me." I said with another grin.
"But you..."
"I'd stay your venomous tongue, Margot. Lest you befall a fate...paternal and maternal in nature."
Councilor Margot took a fearful step back.
Success.
"What are you talking about!? My parents lived peacefully to their deaths in West Ardougne!"
"Funny you mention West Ardougne. I checked with their leader, Edgar Muntz. Apparently, your family never even visited! But when I went a ways north, that's when I got an interesting little story. Seems a woman named Margot lost her parents to poison from a snake with the utmost horrid venom, and sever burns from an 'accidental' fire. But we both know that neither were caused by any whim of nature, now don't we Margot."
Councilor Margot began to break out in a run, but her shoe was caught in the cobblestone pavement.
I then closed the gap, and patted her on the shoulder with light force.
"Come now Councilor, don't be sad! You've lived a long time, and I think it's time we do something about that."
“Back away from me!”
“It is so invigourating to see your perfect little orchestrated world crumble. Your pieces, all set and cemented in place, now move against your will. They do as they please. And really, that’s the best for everyone, is it not?”
“You kill me here, they’ll know…”
I rolled my eyes and smiled once more.
“Oh Margot, I am truly hurt. You take me for a fool, don’t you? Well, I am lying about being hurt, but you do truly think of me as a fool if you believed I’d be so blind as to leave behind conclusive evidence.”
Councilor Margot seemed to take a defensive stance, as if to get some sort of trace evidence from me.
She is most certainly a caged neurotic rodent, terrified of her match-made universe being slowly pulled away, much as her poison took her parents.
It was a long process, but I found the same species of snake.
I had hoped she’d notice, but she seemed too dizzy to make much of a fuss when she was lit aflame.
No evidence was to be left, after all.
-Ire of Phyrrys 22nd, 10:04 AM
Council Chambers
“…Councilor Margot is late. Again.”
“Don’t even think about it Errmon.”
“Please Herman, she’s late AGAIN. Last time we called bloody murder, especially when the police came.”
“So you wish to make this even worse?”
“How would I make it worse! She knows me! She’ll let me slide away with the jokes.”
Councilor Emily shook her head.
“We should try and meet up before the meetings, rather than waste precious time guessing where one of us is or is not.”
“Seconded.” Councilor Matthew said, scratching at the back of his neck absent-mindedly.
“I agree as well.” I said with a sigh.
I sighed because Andreus and his grand political maneuvers were less of a victorious rally call, and more of a sad whimper. Edgar Muntz was now lukewarm to us, and we had nothing to work with from the Carnilliean lands.
And now Andreus was gone once again from a meeting.
I’d swear he was doing it on purpose, if I didn’t know any better.
“Now we should start just in…”
The doors burst open, and unlike the last time Councilor Margot was late, the Sixth Ward police was not the source.
Instead, a far grimmer sight greeted us: the Shadow Court.
They were featureless, and peered upon any one not of their cabal as clients, but never as people, or equals.
Normally this off-putting attitude would dissuade us from ever meeting with them, but their use became apparent in the Siege of Year 49.
Our people were about to be killed once and for all, and no one was able to keep a stable defense up.
That’s when they appeared from the fog, as if the shadows of the dead, dying and desecrated rose to barter a deal.
“To us you will pledge the lives, souls and energy of your tributes. We in turn will assist you in your endeavors, and protect you.”
In a terrified state of mind, they could not refuse the court’s offer.
What happened next scarred their minds and haunted them forever.
With a simple rising of their left hands, the multitudes around them were brutally slaughtered, with only tiny pieces left behind. The ground swelled with pools of blood, and the sky seemed to cry tears of blood as well.
The down-payment had been made.
So why would they come now?
Did Councilor Margot make a deal gone wrong?
“Shadow Court, why are you here?”
“We came to tell you that your seasonal toll was paid this morning, when Councilor Margot drew her last breath.”
“Did you…” Councilor Errmon began to say, pale as a ghost.
“Stay your tongue, Councilor, your fears are not yet to fruition. She was murdered in the Sixth Ward, due south-east of this council chamber. The police have blocked the scene off, but there is something you should see, Councilium Dux.”
“Why me alone?” I asked the court, well aware my speaking out of turn could be disasterous.
“There is no time for pointless questions, nor for pitiful excuses for dragging others along.”
I had no time to conceptualize a response, for when I blinked, I found I had been sent to the alley way where the Councilor was murdered.
Once I pushed my way past the crowds, I saw what the court was referring to, once I looked to the wall near her burnt body. On the stone was etched what appeared to be a winking face, and was the same mark left at other, supposedly, random murders for the past few months.
The fact it was in place after a Councilor’s murder meant we most certainly had a serial killer on the loose, and one that even the leaders were ill-equipped to face.
“Hold the scene officers, I need to get back to the council chambers.” I whispered to the nearby officers, before breaking out in a run towards the building.
My lungs burned, and my heart ached, but I had to hurry.
We had to be ahead of the proverbial curve, or else we would be next.
Instead of finding a somber councilchamber rendered silent in anticipation, I found that instead, they had resumed the meeting (having contacted Andreus via comm-orb), and had elected Margot’s replacement.
He was, by all accounts, a normal looking man, about my age and height. In fact, had I not been so paranoid, I would have just gone on with my life and ignored the satisfaction in his eyes, however faint it was.
“Neil, we wanted to introduce you to the new Councilor-Elect.”
“Weren’t you supposed to wait for me to come back?”
The new Councilor rose from his seat, and extended a hand for a firm handshake.
I had to accept, even if it felt like sticking my hand into the maw of a demon.
The last time a Councilor got elected like this, my father and two-hundred others were murdered.
Perhaps I was too jaded to be optimistic, or even realistic, but the event had taught me to be ever vigilant of the happiest looking leaders.
“It’s truly a pleasure, Councilium Dux Neil Allenby. I’m Gram Collinson, Head of Public Relations and on-call analyst for our spy networks.”
“Pleasure to meet you Councilor Collinson.”
“A shared feeling , I assure you.”
His words were tricky to decipher. He gave conflicting signs of honesty and deceit, and the only constant was his joy at my confusion.
“I’d suggest we resume the meeting, rather than wait for you to dig for deeper meaning in my words. It’s a futile effort. My colleagues will confirm that it is just my manner of speech that makes it seem so…devious, I believe?”
I sat down, keeping my eyes on Gram the whole time.
“What’s left?”
“Just your formal acceptance of Arthur Henrik’s promotion to head of the military forces.”
Confound it!
I was gone for but five minutes, and a new Councilor is chosen, and they even promote a military figure!?
I had been annoyed by the staunch refusal to do much of anything useful by most of my peers on the council, but this rapid succession of events seemed absurd.
“Very well, I hearby formalize Arthur Henrik’s promotion to Grand-Commander of our military forces.”
“I believe our meeting is adjourned then?” Gram said with a calm glance, one that once again threw me off.
“I suppose so…I would like to call for a closed door meeting with the councilors in place prior to Councilor Margot’s demise however.”
Councilor Errmon quickly grabbed his things, fumbled most of the papers, and scrambled to re-gather them before saying so meekly, I nearly thought it was someone else speaking, “I must head home! I have to clear my head!”
As the others left, only Gram and I remained, and he paused to look at the podium whistfully.
“What a fascinating structure the World Gate was. It still stands, even now!”
“I agree. I always enjoy the feeling it gives me about perspective in the universe, or just on this world in general.”
“A clear perspective can still have obscured truths in it. That’s what I always say. Anyhow, good night Councilor! And I do hope you’ll keep indoors tonight! We wouldn’t want another Councilor to be lost so soon, now would we?”
I suppose you're curious where the Councilum Ducks and Pious Pete are. They're the ones that usually post the seasonal minutes, and information.
Well, things change, even in the land of Zaros.
Do keep it in mind as you watch their meticulously built little world get...shaken up a bit.
See, all it takes is one act, and it begins to happen on its own.
Here's my first act.
-Ire of Phyrrys 22nd, 2:18 AM
Sixth Ward was always so quiet, even in the days when it was just a measly group of refugees clinging to dusty, musty old books and people.
She appeared, walking in a steady motion, confident and as self-assured as she was.
The footfalls could belong to no one other than Councilor Margot.
Born to a Faladian squire and a Burthorpian chemist, Margot held her existence as something beyond others.
Critics of the locals would claim this as a common act of Saradominists, but in return I would say that duplicity is our common act.
Critics may not agree, but this trait was uncommon, which made their departure from those lands after the Invention's use not entirely unwelcome.
They were the 'strange people' of the town they called home, and were frequently admonishing their kind and hard-working fellows behind their backs. The very drivel they spoke was said to be as acidic as venom in blood, and as caustic as lava.
For a group of Saradominists to shun you, you must be quite the unsavory sort, and Margot's parents were indeed of the unsavory sort.
Well aware of their standing in the community, they immediately paid the first caravan that passed compliments, even if they were as empty as their supposed new patron was.
Albeit hesitant, the Zarosian caravan accepted them in upon the furnishing of essential supplies, and vital information of the populations nearby, stolen from a Temple Knight outpost.
Margot herself was born in Year 22 of the Seventh Age, and though she'd vehemently deny it, was born in a druidic homestead.
Why in a homestead of Druids, you ask?
Bitter old Margot has quite a few secrets in her past, and one big one is the very fact her parents were excommunicated from the Church of Zaros, after betraying two-thirds of the refugees to their probable demise south of Rellekka.
Her parents raised her strictly, and gave her unbreakable guidelines to follow in her path in life.
Shame for them that these rules convinced her to murder them.
On looting their offices, she discovered their former ties to the Zarosians, and sought out said people, eventually finding Councilors Errman and Herman. Neither knew of her secrets, but her information was verified and indisputable.
More will be revealed in due time, but for now, we return to the Councilor, confidently walking the Sixth Ward's dark streets alone.
The Councilor glared at any living soul she passed, annoyed with their incessant blathering about this and that.
She had lived in the lap of luxury for most of her life, and that was what she held most dear. Any front or mask she had to wear was child's play.
But as she rounded Cyrisus Street (named after a long-forgotten hero that predecessors had come to admire), she found herself confronted by me, in person.
"What? What are you doing here!? I thought my last letter was enough!"
"Shh!" I said with a grin. "We needn't make a fuss in the middle of the night, right?"
"Then why are you here?"
I slipped back into the abyss of the alleyway, and gestured for her to follow.
Foolishly, she did.
"I already told you what you wanted to know, so stop the charade and go away."
"But have I? Have I truly stopped? Or are you just hoping desperately that I'm that short-sighted?"
I took my mask off, and revealed to her my true face.
"You?" she nearly choked out.
"Oh yes, me." I said with another grin.
"But you..."
"I'd stay your venomous tongue, Margot. Lest you befall a fate...paternal and maternal in nature."
Councilor Margot took a fearful step back.
Success.
"What are you talking about!? My parents lived peacefully to their deaths in West Ardougne!"
"Funny you mention West Ardougne. I checked with their leader, Edgar Muntz. Apparently, your family never even visited! But when I went a ways north, that's when I got an interesting little story. Seems a woman named Margot lost her parents to poison from a snake with the utmost horrid venom, and sever burns from an 'accidental' fire. But we both know that neither were caused by any whim of nature, now don't we Margot."
Councilor Margot began to break out in a run, but her shoe was caught in the cobblestone pavement.
I then closed the gap, and patted her on the shoulder with light force.
"Come now Councilor, don't be sad! You've lived a long time, and I think it's time we do something about that."
“Back away from me!”
“It is so invigourating to see your perfect little orchestrated world crumble. Your pieces, all set and cemented in place, now move against your will. They do as they please. And really, that’s the best for everyone, is it not?”
“You kill me here, they’ll know…”
I rolled my eyes and smiled once more.
“Oh Margot, I am truly hurt. You take me for a fool, don’t you? Well, I am lying about being hurt, but you do truly think of me as a fool if you believed I’d be so blind as to leave behind conclusive evidence.”
Councilor Margot seemed to take a defensive stance, as if to get some sort of trace evidence from me.
She is most certainly a caged neurotic rodent, terrified of her match-made universe being slowly pulled away, much as her poison took her parents.
It was a long process, but I found the same species of snake.
I had hoped she’d notice, but she seemed too dizzy to make much of a fuss when she was lit aflame.
No evidence was to be left, after all.
-Ire of Phyrrys 22nd, 10:04 AM
Council Chambers
“…Councilor Margot is late. Again.”
“Don’t even think about it Errmon.”
“Please Herman, she’s late AGAIN. Last time we called bloody murder, especially when the police came.”
“So you wish to make this even worse?”
“How would I make it worse! She knows me! She’ll let me slide away with the jokes.”
Councilor Emily shook her head.
“We should try and meet up before the meetings, rather than waste precious time guessing where one of us is or is not.”
“Seconded.” Councilor Matthew said, scratching at the back of his neck absent-mindedly.
“I agree as well.” I said with a sigh.
I sighed because Andreus and his grand political maneuvers were less of a victorious rally call, and more of a sad whimper. Edgar Muntz was now lukewarm to us, and we had nothing to work with from the Carnilliean lands.
And now Andreus was gone once again from a meeting.
I’d swear he was doing it on purpose, if I didn’t know any better.
“Now we should start just in…”
The doors burst open, and unlike the last time Councilor Margot was late, the Sixth Ward police was not the source.
Instead, a far grimmer sight greeted us: the Shadow Court.
They were featureless, and peered upon any one not of their cabal as clients, but never as people, or equals.
Normally this off-putting attitude would dissuade us from ever meeting with them, but their use became apparent in the Siege of Year 49.
Our people were about to be killed once and for all, and no one was able to keep a stable defense up.
That’s when they appeared from the fog, as if the shadows of the dead, dying and desecrated rose to barter a deal.
“To us you will pledge the lives, souls and energy of your tributes. We in turn will assist you in your endeavors, and protect you.”
In a terrified state of mind, they could not refuse the court’s offer.
What happened next scarred their minds and haunted them forever.
With a simple rising of their left hands, the multitudes around them were brutally slaughtered, with only tiny pieces left behind. The ground swelled with pools of blood, and the sky seemed to cry tears of blood as well.
The down-payment had been made.
So why would they come now?
Did Councilor Margot make a deal gone wrong?
“Shadow Court, why are you here?”
“We came to tell you that your seasonal toll was paid this morning, when Councilor Margot drew her last breath.”
“Did you…” Councilor Errmon began to say, pale as a ghost.
“Stay your tongue, Councilor, your fears are not yet to fruition. She was murdered in the Sixth Ward, due south-east of this council chamber. The police have blocked the scene off, but there is something you should see, Councilium Dux.”
“Why me alone?” I asked the court, well aware my speaking out of turn could be disasterous.
“There is no time for pointless questions, nor for pitiful excuses for dragging others along.”
I had no time to conceptualize a response, for when I blinked, I found I had been sent to the alley way where the Councilor was murdered.
Once I pushed my way past the crowds, I saw what the court was referring to, once I looked to the wall near her burnt body. On the stone was etched what appeared to be a winking face, and was the same mark left at other, supposedly, random murders for the past few months.
The fact it was in place after a Councilor’s murder meant we most certainly had a serial killer on the loose, and one that even the leaders were ill-equipped to face.
“Hold the scene officers, I need to get back to the council chambers.” I whispered to the nearby officers, before breaking out in a run towards the building.
My lungs burned, and my heart ached, but I had to hurry.
We had to be ahead of the proverbial curve, or else we would be next.
Instead of finding a somber councilchamber rendered silent in anticipation, I found that instead, they had resumed the meeting (having contacted Andreus via comm-orb), and had elected Margot’s replacement.
He was, by all accounts, a normal looking man, about my age and height. In fact, had I not been so paranoid, I would have just gone on with my life and ignored the satisfaction in his eyes, however faint it was.
“Neil, we wanted to introduce you to the new Councilor-Elect.”
“Weren’t you supposed to wait for me to come back?”
The new Councilor rose from his seat, and extended a hand for a firm handshake.
I had to accept, even if it felt like sticking my hand into the maw of a demon.
The last time a Councilor got elected like this, my father and two-hundred others were murdered.
Perhaps I was too jaded to be optimistic, or even realistic, but the event had taught me to be ever vigilant of the happiest looking leaders.
“It’s truly a pleasure, Councilium Dux Neil Allenby. I’m Gram Collinson, Head of Public Relations and on-call analyst for our spy networks.”
“Pleasure to meet you Councilor Collinson.”
“A shared feeling , I assure you.”
His words were tricky to decipher. He gave conflicting signs of honesty and deceit, and the only constant was his joy at my confusion.
“I’d suggest we resume the meeting, rather than wait for you to dig for deeper meaning in my words. It’s a futile effort. My colleagues will confirm that it is just my manner of speech that makes it seem so…devious, I believe?”
I sat down, keeping my eyes on Gram the whole time.
“What’s left?”
“Just your formal acceptance of Arthur Henrik’s promotion to head of the military forces.”
Confound it!
I was gone for but five minutes, and a new Councilor is chosen, and they even promote a military figure!?
I had been annoyed by the staunch refusal to do much of anything useful by most of my peers on the council, but this rapid succession of events seemed absurd.
“Very well, I hearby formalize Arthur Henrik’s promotion to Grand-Commander of our military forces.”
“I believe our meeting is adjourned then?” Gram said with a calm glance, one that once again threw me off.
“I suppose so…I would like to call for a closed door meeting with the councilors in place prior to Councilor Margot’s demise however.”
Councilor Errmon quickly grabbed his things, fumbled most of the papers, and scrambled to re-gather them before saying so meekly, I nearly thought it was someone else speaking, “I must head home! I have to clear my head!”
As the others left, only Gram and I remained, and he paused to look at the podium whistfully.
“What a fascinating structure the World Gate was. It still stands, even now!”
“I agree. I always enjoy the feeling it gives me about perspective in the universe, or just on this world in general.”
“A clear perspective can still have obscured truths in it. That’s what I always say. Anyhow, good night Councilor! And I do hope you’ll keep indoors tonight! We wouldn’t want another Councilor to be lost so soon, now would we?”
