Shadows 10.2
Jul. 24th, 2007 11:13 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
measured_wordsWooh, new Shadows icon!
Took me a while to get this typed up! And it is short at that. it is taking em a while to get a sense of how the pages in my new book translate to typed text. Anyway...
He really hadn’t had much of a recovery period so far. The Loyalist command had made well meaning promises, but Matteo understood that in a war like this, they couldn’t afford to limit their available manpower. A week after his return (and against Galawyn’s advice), he’d gone to the Shrine of the fallen with a raiding party. They’d met nothing but disaster well before they’d made it far into the surrounding woods. The blighted area he’d encountered had spread well beyond the forest, through the little village, and beyond. What was more, the area was now infested with powerful demonic entities. Unless the cult had chosen to let him escape before, they had only come into the area after his escape. The rebels hadn’t made another attempt on the shrine since.
After that failed mission, he’d agreed to act as a liaison between the local Aldryn and a band of Exian refugees who were being resettled on the Elven lands. He’d barely begun reading through the background files that Lorella had amassed on the situation when Volaris had side tracked him again. This time the mission was a secret expedition into Exia itself. They’d at least succeeded in their goals there, which turned out to be the rescue of a Loyalist contact who really hadn’t needed the help.
Matteo had limited his own involvement in the mission after the initial phases of getting people safely into the city, and making contact with some locals. The rest of the team – many of the same people he’d accompanied back to the Shrine – had then taken a more high-handed approach than he’d felt comfortable with. Instead, he’d taken a chance to do some personal reconnaissance.
He’d made his way home, to where he’d lived with his half-sister Lirain before the fall. The house was boarded-up and empty – the neighborhood was too close to the university. The house itself had been thoroughly looted, erasing any sign of what might have happened to his family. Their neighbors had either fled or been taken up the steps to the Ziggurat, never to return alive. He hadn’t had time for a more thorough investigation. Everything was still frustratingly up in the air, and it was difficult not to fear the worst.
When he’d returned, he’d started back with the files on the refugees. Spending time among his own people would be the closest thing to a break he was likely to get. Matteo wasn’t too distressed reading about the unruliness of the refugees. He was better trained to handle this type of operation than most. Some of them were former guardsmen, also, and he’d served with some of their leaders if he hadn’t known them personally. It was a bonus he hoped would help him gain their trust and cooperation. The only real snag now was that quite a lot of time had elapsed since the Loyalists had been able to send anyone with authority to manage the situation.
Marla Hearthstone, the woman currently handling the camp, was a place holder. She had been recruited into the Intelligence Service from the guards after the flight from Exia. While Lorella trusted her to keep an eye on the situation, she wanted someone with more experience making the decisions. This was especially true as they knew the cult had contact, perhaps even a plant, in one of the refugee bands involved. Marla would brief him once he arrived, and stay to provide extra support.
Now he was almost ready to leave. The camp was a four day journey on horseback, and the exact location of Fort Cedric was still being kept a secret for security purposes. He’d packed only basic equipment. Either the refugees or the Aldryn would take care of him. Volaris had some qualms about this assumption on his part, and one of the main sources of tension between the groups initially had been the resource strain the Elves were experiencing from hosting the Exians. But the latter were supposed to be learning to take care of themselves, and Marla reported that with druidic support they’d started some late harvest crops. As for the Aldyrn, well, Matteo was one of them. Even if he didn’t have direct kin ties to the people of Lenysa, they would welcome him openly.
There were other reasons for packing light. Marla had brought out a lot of the basic materials necessary for the operation’s smooth running already. Her reports indicated that she had a more than purely functional base camp, and was just waiting for someone to come and help her run it. There was also the matter of transportation. The Loyalists had needed to put a moratorium on teleportation due to the spells expense, and had instead purchased a number of flying mounts. He’d asked if he might be allowed the use f one. Not only would it more than halve his travel time, making an aerial approach would make it easier to disguise the location of the keep. It was much more difficult to track a fast flying hawk than a man on horseback, and it was likewise easier to cover more ground from above, and thus to locate and track any cult activity in the area. Of course, the hawks couldn’t carry as much weight, but that was a small price to pay, in his mind. Finally, a flying mount would be a great help if he and Marla needed to make a quick escape for any reason – as long as they didn’t have to carry anything else.
He looked into the satchel he had packed one more time, and shouldered it. Lorella wanted to see him before he reported to Volaris, and he headed down to the guard office to meet her. There was a bit of a wait when he arrived, as she was in conference with Captain Yara. Matteo could hear raised voices through the thick wooden door, but couldn’t discern more than a few words. He glanced around, but there were too many others around paying discreet attention to the muffled shouting for him to feel comfortable prying more deeply. As curious as he was, it wouldn’t do to get caught spying on his superiors. It would be hard to explain.
Instead, he closed his eyes and listen more carefully, realizing that he could pick out three rather than just two voices. All three were female, and his guess was that Lorella was shouting, and even speaking, the least. She was quiet by nature, and had probably been caught in the crossfire of someone else’s argument. Too intriguing! And he did have more discreet methods of investigating.
“Gordon,” he whispered, but could already see the former spymaster slipping out of his shadow, pressing up to and carefully through the stone wall. All the Elf had to do then was sit back and smile at anyone who passed by the office and peered towards the source of the shouting.
Took me a while to get this typed up! And it is short at that. it is taking em a while to get a sense of how the pages in my new book translate to typed text. Anyway...
He really hadn’t had much of a recovery period so far. The Loyalist command had made well meaning promises, but Matteo understood that in a war like this, they couldn’t afford to limit their available manpower. A week after his return (and against Galawyn’s advice), he’d gone to the Shrine of the fallen with a raiding party. They’d met nothing but disaster well before they’d made it far into the surrounding woods. The blighted area he’d encountered had spread well beyond the forest, through the little village, and beyond. What was more, the area was now infested with powerful demonic entities. Unless the cult had chosen to let him escape before, they had only come into the area after his escape. The rebels hadn’t made another attempt on the shrine since.
After that failed mission, he’d agreed to act as a liaison between the local Aldryn and a band of Exian refugees who were being resettled on the Elven lands. He’d barely begun reading through the background files that Lorella had amassed on the situation when Volaris had side tracked him again. This time the mission was a secret expedition into Exia itself. They’d at least succeeded in their goals there, which turned out to be the rescue of a Loyalist contact who really hadn’t needed the help.
Matteo had limited his own involvement in the mission after the initial phases of getting people safely into the city, and making contact with some locals. The rest of the team – many of the same people he’d accompanied back to the Shrine – had then taken a more high-handed approach than he’d felt comfortable with. Instead, he’d taken a chance to do some personal reconnaissance.
He’d made his way home, to where he’d lived with his half-sister Lirain before the fall. The house was boarded-up and empty – the neighborhood was too close to the university. The house itself had been thoroughly looted, erasing any sign of what might have happened to his family. Their neighbors had either fled or been taken up the steps to the Ziggurat, never to return alive. He hadn’t had time for a more thorough investigation. Everything was still frustratingly up in the air, and it was difficult not to fear the worst.
When he’d returned, he’d started back with the files on the refugees. Spending time among his own people would be the closest thing to a break he was likely to get. Matteo wasn’t too distressed reading about the unruliness of the refugees. He was better trained to handle this type of operation than most. Some of them were former guardsmen, also, and he’d served with some of their leaders if he hadn’t known them personally. It was a bonus he hoped would help him gain their trust and cooperation. The only real snag now was that quite a lot of time had elapsed since the Loyalists had been able to send anyone with authority to manage the situation.
Marla Hearthstone, the woman currently handling the camp, was a place holder. She had been recruited into the Intelligence Service from the guards after the flight from Exia. While Lorella trusted her to keep an eye on the situation, she wanted someone with more experience making the decisions. This was especially true as they knew the cult had contact, perhaps even a plant, in one of the refugee bands involved. Marla would brief him once he arrived, and stay to provide extra support.
Now he was almost ready to leave. The camp was a four day journey on horseback, and the exact location of Fort Cedric was still being kept a secret for security purposes. He’d packed only basic equipment. Either the refugees or the Aldryn would take care of him. Volaris had some qualms about this assumption on his part, and one of the main sources of tension between the groups initially had been the resource strain the Elves were experiencing from hosting the Exians. But the latter were supposed to be learning to take care of themselves, and Marla reported that with druidic support they’d started some late harvest crops. As for the Aldyrn, well, Matteo was one of them. Even if he didn’t have direct kin ties to the people of Lenysa, they would welcome him openly.
There were other reasons for packing light. Marla had brought out a lot of the basic materials necessary for the operation’s smooth running already. Her reports indicated that she had a more than purely functional base camp, and was just waiting for someone to come and help her run it. There was also the matter of transportation. The Loyalists had needed to put a moratorium on teleportation due to the spells expense, and had instead purchased a number of flying mounts. He’d asked if he might be allowed the use f one. Not only would it more than halve his travel time, making an aerial approach would make it easier to disguise the location of the keep. It was much more difficult to track a fast flying hawk than a man on horseback, and it was likewise easier to cover more ground from above, and thus to locate and track any cult activity in the area. Of course, the hawks couldn’t carry as much weight, but that was a small price to pay, in his mind. Finally, a flying mount would be a great help if he and Marla needed to make a quick escape for any reason – as long as they didn’t have to carry anything else.
He looked into the satchel he had packed one more time, and shouldered it. Lorella wanted to see him before he reported to Volaris, and he headed down to the guard office to meet her. There was a bit of a wait when he arrived, as she was in conference with Captain Yara. Matteo could hear raised voices through the thick wooden door, but couldn’t discern more than a few words. He glanced around, but there were too many others around paying discreet attention to the muffled shouting for him to feel comfortable prying more deeply. As curious as he was, it wouldn’t do to get caught spying on his superiors. It would be hard to explain.
Instead, he closed his eyes and listen more carefully, realizing that he could pick out three rather than just two voices. All three were female, and his guess was that Lorella was shouting, and even speaking, the least. She was quiet by nature, and had probably been caught in the crossfire of someone else’s argument. Too intriguing! And he did have more discreet methods of investigating.
“Gordon,” he whispered, but could already see the former spymaster slipping out of his shadow, pressing up to and carefully through the stone wall. All the Elf had to do then was sit back and smile at anyone who passed by the office and peered towards the source of the shouting.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2007-07-24 04:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-24 04:51 pm (UTC)