RP:Clean Up at the Mansion

From HollowWiki

Part of the Rynvale New Dawn Arc


LOCATION: Rynvale, The Ruins of the Governor’s Mansion (rp’d location)



Arien stood across the street from the gaping wound that was the remains of the elegant governors mansion. Emerald gaze trailed over the mountain of debris that lay collapsed in the courtyard-it had once been the front wall of the house. The retaining wall, or at least the portion of it immediately before the mansion and its gates hand been pulverized, all that remained, a pile of rubble mere feet high. Her eyes trailed out into the streets. Some progress had been made, the fourth floor façade and its accompanying gargoyles had already been carted away. The need to get the road to the clinic reopened in the aftermath of battle had meant it had received the highest priority. That cleared road was now their greatest asset, for a caravan of wagons lined it, manned for the most part by High Elves who had chosen to respond the request for aid and labor in cleaning up the site. They were however, the last link in a chain of labor that began with crews of the hardy sea faring folk, many wielding sledge hammers and axes, who were spread across the debris in the courtyard, smashing with brute force and some magic, some of the larger sections of wall into pieces more manageable to be hauled away onto the waiting carts. Next to Arien, on either flank, stood somber sentinels. First glance might cause an onlooker to think, Elvin guardsmen of the new governor perhaps, as the males appeared much as her Elvin kinsmen did in their on going labors. But a closer look would reveal the cold blooded paleness of saurian flesh, and the metallic shimmer in irises that would betray draconic heritage. The governor had brought in the big muscle, and their purpose would be revealed in minutes. “ It is already weakened..parts of the second and third floors caved in..it should not be too much to knock the remaining walls in and take the floors with them,” she murmured just loud enough for the members of the council of dragons to hear. She had not expected that her first, and newest ally would come in so handy, so soon. “ I will have the area cleared for your work.” She finished. A step or two away from the dragons, and the governor would lean over a hastily set up work station to speak with the foreman present. Moments later, shrill whistles would blow alerting those within that the time for a break was upon them. A steady stream of workers spilled out into the streets, good natured banter, sweat, blood from scratches and bruises and a general feeling of wellness permeating. The island was free, paid work was abundant and they were part of a new dawn for their port home. Within minutes the all clear was sounded and the governor returned to the lurking pair. “All is ready, you may work in the manner that best pleases, but it needs to taken down..to the ground.” With that, she would leave them, returning to the foreman, head lowered over his detailing for the remainder of the day’s tasks.

Rhocielle watched the fiery elf from atop a courtyard wall of a neighboring building that stood firm throughout the previous battles that raged upon the isle. Left to his own devices while Arien oversaw the removal of the mansion ruins, the wolf still found himself drawn to be near the new governess of Rynale. Attention was only diverted as a pair of saurians revealed themselves in their truest forms, roars resonating after their transformation. A pompous show of power, the Fold Warder mused then snorted softly as an unheard response to the roar. Remaining on his perch, he canted his head as both dragons padded around the remains of the governor's mansion as if predators stalking and gauging prey. Their monstrous sizes put them on equal footing in mass compared to the half destroyed building. Finally satisfied with their positions of attack, a final set of roars were given as warning to all workers around the area. Swift breezes were created by the deft swings of gargantuan tails against stone and exposed wooden frame. Pompous, but they were in fact very powerful, the Warder mused before leaping off the wall to begin his approach towards Arien's workstation.

The sun high in the almost oceanic blue sky glinted on the scales of the massive behemoths, flashes of gold and silver both, setting the air around the eating and resting workers to sparkling and shimmering in a manner that almost blinded, and many a pair of eyes shut instinctively against the display as teeth sank into breads, meats and cheeses. An Elder race themselves, the high elves were not overly awed by the display of brute power, size and strength, but many a one spared a grateful thought that it was a good thing the dragon kin were allies and not foes in this instance. Word had already spread of the gruesome death that the Imperial guardsmen had suffered at the assault of the Black dragon- for though they had chosen to serve the empire, many of the fallen had been High Born. In the courtyard a great silver tail landed with resounding crash against a support beam in the eastern wall of the mansion, and the entire edifice shuddered beneath the power of the blow. A shower of glass rained down into the courtyard beneath, followed by a tumble of stone as chunks of the wall fell away. A resounding ‘crack’ of wood preceded the shattering of support beams within the wall, and another shower of debris rained to the cobblestone surface below. The silver retreated, and began the adjustments that would allow for a second swing. In the moments that he would take to shift his stance, the Gold would likely begin his own assault on the western wall. Across the street, Arien lifted her head to the protesting creaks and cracks of the building under assault, some lingering regret for its ultimate loss teasing at her heart. She had many memories, good ones, associated with the place. Eyes shifted to take in the approach of her wolfen warder; many of those memories associated with the ones she loved. She would await his arrival at her side to murmur a quiet greeting. “ I would have thought the day would find you hard at work bartering with the Merchants wolf, you seem most keen to start work upon the installation of the outpost.” Her gaze was soft as it rested on him, though she was still loath to betray her heart when they were out in public..and especially when she wore the mantle of governor before her people. High elves were notorious for their ability to be quite..racist. It might not go over too kindly, were it known that their new governor wore her heart on her sleeve for a wolf.

Rhocielle gave only a nod to the High Elf governor when she took notice of him at last. The demolition behind them allowed little conversation to be heard until the dragons paused to plan their next strikes. The Gold was methodical in his devastation, thick tail crashing against weak structural points near the base of the building. Stone and wood crumbled as if clay and twigs from the raw strength of his attack. What little of the western wall that seemed sturdier than normal, such as the joints, his claws served to grip and tear asunder. While repeated strikes of his tail would eventually lay waste to any man-made creation, the saurian was careful to not recklessly endanger those around him by trying to finish his task as quickly as possible. Standing upon hind legs, the dragon's immensely tall frame and weight would be brought to bear upon the remaining pieces of the upper levels. Claws clutched at wall and floor alike to rip from the build as if nothing more than cotton cloth. Canine ears atop Rhocielle's scalp flicker as he kept audible focus upon the dragons behind Arien. His husky drawl spoke up clearly enough for her to hear above the sounds of demolition, "Aye... I had sent missive to Aldred about the merchants' road, but I have yet to hear from him. I may go ahead and speak directly to Cyllarus, at least about materials and supplies for the outpost, and the island itself." Granite eyes of the black Lycan kept to elven emeralds, stating that which could not be said openly. His words remained upon the business at hand, "I see that the dragons are already hard at work at removing the last of the ruins..." Rune inscribed muzzle lifted to look directly towards the Gold and Silver as their tails swung widely to deliver a heavy blow against their respective walls.

Arien’s gaze followed the lycan’s into the courtyard across the street, where silver and gold demolition team seemed about to move into their final phase of the tear down, before settling again on the wolf, a nod of acknowledgement given to his words. “ I had thought perhaps, demolition with incendiaries would be the quickest way to go, but given the concerns of Larket on the recent accusations of our supposed misuse of such devices, and the uncertainty that yet abides regarding Yakata’s intents in the city, I thought alternate means preferable.” Her gaze shadowed. “ The Council owed us a favor, after the losses we sustained in Theraday’s capture of Helich..” And it seemed the dragons were paying out. Within the courtyard , the Silver, having supplied more debilitating lashes of mammoth tail to side and rear walls, had readjusted himself to stand before the open face of the mansion, silvery gaze now turned to the already weakened floors that spanned the width between the faltering, crumbling supports. A series of powerful, crushing blows with claws and legs, tore at the wood and stone surfaces of the different levels of the mansion, and with protesting rumble, the entire core of the mansion’s shell crumbled into a single debris pile in the middle of what was left of the weakened structure. Their final supports removed, what was left of the external walls began perilous teeter inwards, safely guided by the dragons to settling atop what was now a mountain of rubble at least two floors high. It would take days before it could all be carted away, but the first of the tasks was done. Across the street, Arien turned her face away from the debris cloud that rose into the air as the last of the walls came crumbling down, pale hand raised to protect her nose and breathing as a round of coughs and protesting shouts from the workers nearby alerted that they too had been discomfited. They would be unable to continue work today unless the air was cleared a little. “One moment Rho..I am needed,” she murmured, even as she turned on armored heel to cross the street towards the pile. Moments later, she was lost from view as she took up position within the center of the debris field. It would be the unexpected uptick in the breeze that swirled along the street that might betray the elementalist’s intentions, even before the appearance of the focused funnel cloud within the yard. A wind, powerful enough only to catch and lift the fine dust particles in the air, suctioned and spiraled the worst of the debris cloud into the upper atmosphere, from whence it could be redistributed by natural currents. Slowly, the air and ground level cleared, revealing blue sky and sunshine once more to dust covered workers. All sign of their draconic helpers was gone, and instead what appeared to be three High Elves were picking their way through the rubble to the street again.

Rhocielle nodded slowly as he watched the saurian demolition pair at work, "Aye... It would not wise for us to deny the accusations, and yet purchase new explosives and hire an explosives expert as well." He frowned visibly at the mention of the capture of the Black. Though the token force allowed Theraday had been small, it was still a heavy blow dealt to the Fold at the news of their loss. A dismissive snort was expelled, soon enough silenced altogether by an armored sleeve that came up to protect leathern nostrils from the thick clouds of dust after the last remnants of the mansion were laid to waste. Expelling the few airborne irritants from his nostrils, he nodded again to the High Elf as she excused herself. Grey eyes narrowed through the murky haze of dust laden air, watching High Elf disappear just as the dragons in the background did as well. Their massive forms slowly shrunk, wings lost and drawn back into smaller, humanoid bodies. The saurians' silhouettes were soon nowhere to be found, only an elven female atop a mountain of rubble. Granite orbs closed behind black lids as he turn his muzzle away from the sight that was soon to come. The wind whipped around his body and those surrounding the site as the upward funnel into the sky drew away the dust and powder from the site. Snorting again to be rid of the last of the dust from his nose, he opened his eyes again to see elven workers return to their duty. Slowly he made his way towards Arien atop the rubble hill, "Will we completely tearing down the Imperial Arena as well?" His paw like hand pointed in the direction of the stone coliseum. "It is spacious and in open air... The arena could be reconverted into a theatre like the one in Kelay, only much larger in scale..." For the moment, the arena was an emergency triage for the wounded and the makeshift headquarters for the released gladiators until they decided where their lives would take them, now that they were free men once more.

Arien met Rho at the halfway point between the pile and the street, keen elvin hearing attuned to his question even as the governor sketched a bow of thanks to the now humanoid pair before they turned away, silent still to retreat from the loud and cluttered work area, their flowing robes fluttering around ankles as they departed. Falling in beside the wolf, emerald gaze would track their departure, a bemused mutter slipping past the pale lips. “ I don’t think I’ve ever met an odder pair. I do believe they said no more than two phrases since they reported for duty..” A soft chuckle escaped. “Dragons..” Well she knew their idiosyncrasies, and the thought saddened for a brief moment before she refocused on the wolf’s proposal. “ It is an excellent idea Rho, to revive as a place for the demonstration of life, that which was intended for a display of death.” The elf’s pale brow furrowed in thought. “The arena itself sustained very little damage, beyond the breaking of the locks upon the cells. It should not be too difficult to have it redesigned and reconstituted into a theater. I am sure there are those up to the task.” Pale fingers came to rest lightly upon jet furred arm, a support taken as she made one final graceful climb over an obstructing cluster of debris to the ground on the other side. Unnecessary, perhaps, but the elf was missing him, though he stood but feet away. Instinctively she led them towards the foreman’s makeshift station once more, emerald gaze resting upon the individual standing before him who looked quite out of place amongst all of clearly working class labor present. The Elf appeared as a serene pool in the midst of dusty chaos, his robes falling freely to the earth, pristine in the absence of the dust and grime that marked every other face present. Clutched in his hands were a collection of rolled scrolls, and the male seemed on the verge of heated debate with the foreman. “ Yes, my good fellow. I am aware that you are yet in the stage of demolition, but the notice said that application should be made to the Governor. I have been told she is here. Surely it is not so difficult a matter to point me her way?..” Garion clutched his floor plans a little closer to his person, as if they could be snatched from him. He fully intended to be the first architect the governor would see-and to so wow her with his design concepts, that she would wish to see no other.

Rhocielle said nothing to the High Elf's light humor, taking note of her abrupt change in expression. Ears dipped slightly. The mention of dragons would have obviously triggered solemn memories of her previous mate, the Silver. Her briefly sorrowful eyes drew forward a memory of laying the dead saurian to rest in Frostmaw. He was formal and courteous in his gesture to lay a paw over her hand, making sure she would not take a misstep in her decent from the pile of rubble. Of course, this all that would be made obvious to the surrounding work crews. Leathern palm subtly caressed ivory hand for as long as she would require his support to reach level ground. Reluctantly, but without hesitation, the Warder returned to his position beside her as Arien made her way to the workstation. Wolfen head canted at the new arrival, certainly not a laborer. Gaze rose and lowered to take careful scrutiny of the male, assessing what his profession was. The presence of the scrolls and his insistence on seeing the governess alluded to the fact that he was seeking an available position. As this was a matter for the island, and not for the clan, the black Lycan stayed his tongue to all the High Elf to deal with her new applicant.

Beneath the paw like hand, Arien’s smaller appendage flexed subtly in quiet acknowledgement of the comfort offered, a sigh not quite made manifest as the challenges of both that past and her current situation were made manifest. Secure on the roadside at last, the elf allowed her Warder to fall into his position at her back and side; ever vigilant, ever her shadow, ever her heart even as eyes and ears turned towards the scene unfolding before the foreman’s desk. The insistent elf’s urgency almost brought a smile to her lips. She was not going anywhere, she was home; he would discover that soon enough. Calming tones were raised over the din of workers heading back into the debris field; fed, rested and cheered by the prospect that significant progress had been made even while they were on their break. “I am she whom your seek, if it is the Governor of the isle for whom you are looking..How may I be of service?” Emerald gaze fell to the scrolls curiously. Garion shifted, turning on his heel to face the new arrivals, azure gaze flitting nervously to the looming lycan present over the female’s shoulder. He cleared his throat. “ Ahem…Yes, yes, well I am replying to your advertisement you see..for an architect, a designer for the new governor’s quarters. It -was- your office that posted the announcement if I am not mistaken.” Fingers clutched the scrolls even closer. Arien smiled, in part for his flustered eagerness, and in part that she had so soon found someone interested in designing the manor that would be restored. “Of course.. and I thank you for your interest..But perhaps, this is not the best time, or place for these discussions? We are working out of the Sherriff’s office, temporarily, if you would care to walk with me and discuss the matter there. We are headed that way anyhow, our immediate business for the day here is done.” The dip of her head was directed at the foreman, even as her words were targeted at the nervous architect. Already she was turning away, wolfen escort quiet at her shoulder as she paused for the artisan to fall in at her side. Within minutes the three silhouettes would be disappearing around the corner into Resident’s Square, leaving behind them only clear blue sky and the sound of clanging tools, where once the shadow of the great mansion loomed.