RP:Shar of Schezerade
From HollowWiki
Summary: Schezerade recognizes a Shar for their military.
Date of Writing: February 25th, 2020.
Chamber of the Raan
Upon entering this most majestic of chambers, one can immediately take notice of several large seats upon a raised platform, situated at back of the room. These chairs, wrought in fine stone -- white marble or ivory, gilded with shimmering gold -- and laced with hints of silver, perhaps platinum, hint that this place is most definitely frequented by ruling powers of sorts. A level lies beneath these two seats, to each side of the stairway, allowing room for more seating places; not as fine as the topmost seats, but elegant all the same. Another level gives way to yet more seating of the same finely crafted nature, small wings of gold embellished upon the white carved stone. The aforementioned stairway leads upward to the highest chairs, carpeted in the finest of fabrics and though this chamber is obviously in use, not a torn thread nor sign of wear shows upon the dark carmine material.
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Brennia made a right fool of herself the other day, but she will explain about that later because today is about him and his intentions in Schezerade. The bard cleans up well enough from the last he’s seen because one must dress appropriately for council meetings. Sporting a black shin length pencil skirt that accentuates the slight curve of her slender frame and a silky cream colored blouse tucked into it. More of her tattoo can be seen on her forearms, calves and neck areas. Her long hair is curled in waves that cascade down to the middle of her back and a teal colored scarf is draped across the top of her black as night wings. She pushes large gold rimmed spectacles up the bridge of her nose as she waits calmly for the guest and the toe of her heels tap softly on her right foot. Nails painted neutral with the light makeup on her face - it seems they are serious about appearances in Schezerade, but what avian isn’t? She checks the time by the position of the sun and hopes he doesn’t run late, she did leave a letter with him instructing the day and time while suggesting he should dress appropriately and get a nice breakfast.
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Uriphiel enters the Chamber of Raan with a quiet, bold determination. Unlike the previous day, he was neat in appearance; blonde hair trimmed short and slicked back, while that unkempt patch of growth had been completely removed from his face, revealing a man who by human standards with be in his early to mid thirties. He wore a navy blue button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbow, nary a crease out of place. He wore cream colored cotton trousers that fit just right and a pair of well polished black military style boots. He kept on hand attached to the bladeless hilt at his hip, his posture straight to showcase a sort of respect for the building he had entered. It was, after all, not so unlike the chambers he once frequented in his past. Golden irises glimmered from the aide of the interior lighting, not long finding the woman that had and continues to help him regain his footing. He nodded confidently in her direction, masking any sort of nervousness or apprehension he had been feeling on the inside. “Brennia.” he says plainly in greeting. He stands in close proximity to the dark skinned woman, awaiting to hear any instruction as to how the events of this meeting are to unfold.
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Brennia smiles warmly up at the man, “welcome, Uriphiel.” Solid teal hues meander down at his outfit, “you look great.” The bard’s voice is laced with a soothing spell, maybe more for herself than him. Last time she was here brought back memories of campaigning and guilt filled her. Just then, a strapping avian with blonde hair comes up to Brennia with a huge smile on his face, “do my eyes deceive me? Are you campaigning for senator again?” The bard lets out a raspy chuckle, “no, I don’t think so, Corvo. I’m here to introduce Uriphiel here to the council.” Corvo takes his good old time giving the handsome avian a once over and grins charmingly up at him while holding a hand out to shake, “well… hello there.” Brennia grins and leads the way to the courtroom, hopefully her guests follow. Once a hush comes over the room, she stands at the podium and takes a deep breath before beginning. With a little bardic magic, the smoky alto timbre is heard by everyone as if she were sitting right next to them and having a casual conversation, “thank you all for coming on such short notice.” It might be easy to see why she was a popular candidate for senator, “I happened upon a gentleman who calls himself Shar of Bardriel,” just then, something clicks because she heard that somewhere before, a very long time ago in her school lessons, but it couldn’t be! Her gaze finds him as she continues, “Aether Knight of Justice, Guardian of Judicant. There is something about him and I think you all will agree once you listen to what he has to say to the council. Without further ado, I welcome Uriphiel Phandarion to the podium,” motioning for him to take the stand and deciding to sit next to Corvo off to the side to take in the reactions of the few men and women that make up the council.
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Uriphiel thanks Brennia for her compliment, but does not return one in kind. She was dressed rather nicely he had thought to himself, quite stately even; Yet no matter what he happened to think, he was just not a man for that sort of small talk. At least not when business matters are at hand. When Corvo arrives, the gilded winged avian mimics the man’s gesture, taking his hand firmly and giving it a couple of shakes. “Hello.” When Brennia finally gestures the way to the podium, Uriphiel makes haste in trailing the woman’s every step while unsmiling eyes flicker from one senator to the next. He listened closely to the introduction, making sure that his representative was relaying the correct information to those that may wind up deciding his fate. It could be seen in the eyes of some of the senators, pure disbelief at the words spoken toward them. When it was his turn to address the senate, Uriphiel took a deep breath and approached the podium. By this point his heart was beating with such ferocity, that he was certain everyone could hear it within the confines of the now dead silent Chamber of Raan. He steeled his nerves and placed one hand on the side of the podium. “Senators. I come to you as a man out of time. A man that can see the hardship and turmoil our people have faced. I have seen the destruction wrought by fighting - From the outside, and from within. It is true. I am Uriphiel-Shar, First Battalion of the city of Bardriel. The last surviving member of the Aether Knights. To those that have studied our history, perhaps this seems like a fantastical tale to you, but I swear upon my oath - That what I speak is truth. It is a tragedy to see what our people have become. To see our numbers so few. Once, we were a prosperous race. Rivaled only by the bloodline of the Dragon. I had hoped, so very much, that the Avian Empire had stood tall against the evil; Against that dark Immortal Arrecation and his armies of death. Yet, I emerge from the timeless void to find that…” Uriphiel pauses, looking to each senate member as his brow pull together in sorrow. “...That this is all we have left. So I come to you today, as a man out of time. As someone that has seen the height of our civilization. To offer my services in whatever is deemed necessary. I seek no such leadership position. Not in the senate. I am not a man of political speech. However, should you have room in your armies; The battalions, I am here to lend my blade. My knowledge. I am here to help the Avian race prosper once again. I believe that is my purpose. Why my prayer to the Divine Three had been answered. Why I am able to stand here before you on this day. I will try my best to verify what I say is true, should you question the authenticity of my claim. If you have any other questions or concerns, voice them, and I will answer them to the best of my judgement. Thank you.” Uriphiel relaxes his grip on the podium and looks toward Brennia for some sort of confirmation that his speech was at least coherent. He was not exactly the greatest speaker in history, but he always gave it his all when it was necessary. Inhaling deeply, Uriphiel awaits for the senate’s response.
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Brennia crossed her legs and sat back while watching the council members as a soft grin is set on her shapely lips. A pair of them, impressed, the others entranced with many questions brewing, but what she saw most was hope as they couldn’t take their eyes off the man. Then she catches Corvo next to her and hands him a kerchief because he’s practically drooling. Why are these people her friends or even advisors? It’s all coming back to her, Bardriel! The original homeland and she can practically hear children singing the folktales… There is only one way Brennia can know he’s from such a place since they speak an entirely different language, one that is heavily drawn from on Island Vere. Standing up and gently clearing her throat to state in her native tongue, “J'ai une question pour vous,” and every syllable seems to melt alluringly from her lips even though anyone else in the room has no idea what she just said. If he understands immediately that she said ‘I have a question for you,’ while everyone else is looking at her in bewilderment, then she will know and trust was he says is true. Bonus points if he switches to the original ancient dialect! Corvo tries to get her to sit back down while whispering, “are you feeling alright? Did you eat yet today?” The bard shakes her hand free without taking her gaze off Uri as she tells Corvo to shove it in Veretian.
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Uriphiel stands resolute, despite his discomfort of having so many eyes upon him all at once. He would not show any sort of emotion that might betray the stern and confident visage the blonde man had put on for the senate. Any sort of weakness would spell doom for his request, quite assuredly. It was only with Brennia’s question does the man move; Neck twisting to angle his head in her direction. The words spoken were familiar. They were the bastardization, or perhaps an evolution, of a language that had been long lost among the common folk. From a time long before Schezerade’s creation. While he did not quite understand every syllable, the knight did pick out the underlying meaning with ease. Without so much as a pause, he answered “Yes? I will tell you whatever you want to know.” It was not long that something dawned upon the man and he stared at the dark feathered avian in befuddlement .
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Brennia stares right back in the same way. What heck!? Who is this guy exactly? Her expression remains neutral as she walks up to the podium and she replies, “maybe later.” Then she addresses the council, “I motion that Uriphiel here be made the Shar of Schezerade.” One of the older men attempts to speak up and argue that some stranger can’t just come in, skipping ranks to Shar! “Must it really be made a point that, at this time, there aren’t many of us left thanks to Kahran, his lackey Vermillion and the Flewminati,” some of the members look away from Brennia simply because they know she’s right. “We are really in need of someone like this and most if not all of you are in agreement,” seems she can really lay on the tough love. “So… since none of you have anything left to add. All for Uriphiel becoming Schezerade’ Shar?” A few of them raise their hands right away, but the rest slowly follow and Brennia concludes, “it is decided then.” Now she turns to Uriphiel, “we will be honored to deem you the Shar of Schezerade. Do you accept?” And if he does, she places her fist over her heart and bows her head to him, something she hasn’t done since she’d been at her homeland. Then she steps down and lets him say any last words or a vow he wants to give to Schezerade and her people.
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Uriphiel cocks his head to the right for a moment, quickly to shake it off when the woman alluded to posing her query at a later time. It must not have been quite so pressing. The avian turns his attention to the senate once again as Brennia states her case. The objections of the elders were met with understanding; It was a strange idea that someone to be claiming from a city long lost be suddenly made Shar in Schezerade’s battalions. It was madness from any rational standpoint. If what Brennia said was true, then they were really stuck between a rock and a hard place, so reluctance would be pushed aside for need. Uriphiel stands at attention and slams his fist against his chest, mirroring Brennia. “I do.” Then to the senate he would address their concerns. “To ease your minds, I will begin my mission in the lowest ranking battalion that you have in your forces, so as to not displace those who have rightfully earned their ranks in your best legions. If I can turn them around, then you may decide as to my place in servitude. If I can not complete this task, I will happily leave, to never return again. I assure you senators. I am here to help my people prosper. To make the Avian Empire a tremendous and revered state as it once had been. This is my duty. My purpose. May you be blessed by the Divine Three.” Uriphiel turns away from the podium, ignoring the hushed whispers as he makes his way for the exit in confident stride.
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Brennia hangs back a moment to talk to a few of the council members and Corvo is the first out of the room after Uriphiel, “that is as a compelling speech Shar Uriphiel.” That charming grin returns on his lips as he looks up at the much older avian, “I think you deserve a drink after that victory, come on,” he motions to the tavern down the street, “first round is on me.” Brennia smoky timbre ruins the fun, “I’m not sure that would be all that responsible at the moment.” The bard takes note of Corvo’s disappointed expression, “don’t worry. There will be plenty of time for you to get the Shar drunk so he might be flattered by your advances.” Corvo chuckles nervously and Brennia walks up to Uriphiel, having to tilt her head back a little to look him in the face, “congratulations.” A warm smile adorns her face even though she is a little cautious of this man, but the teal scarf draped over her wings does shift some when her wings do.
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Uriphiel was ready to decline the blonde male’s offer, but it seems as though Brennia had beaten him to the punch. “Thank you. And Brennia is correct. There are things I must do before leisurely activity. Appreciate the offer, though.” he replies. “ And thank you, Brennia. It is only with your help that they would even take this chance. Now come the more daunting tasks. First I suppose I will need to find a proper armorsmith to replace my things. Are there local message boards around in which I may advertise? Preferably among the humans or elves. Their craftsmanship and understanding of magic is needed. I will also need to return to Larket and salvage what I can from my previous set; That is, as long as scavengers have not taken everything that was left. I will also need a source of ore. And gemstones. Any sort of mining companies around?” Uriphiel’s gilded wings shift and ruffle, letting loose a few shiny gold feathers; a subconscious movement really. He then turns to the darker avian and asks straight to the point, “Lastly, where did you learn that tongue? What dialect is it?” His eyes briefly narrow in suspicion.
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Brennia answers his questions one by one, “there is a board in the tavern. There is still armor here in town fit for avians just to the west of here. If you’re looking for more specialized work, I know of a smith named Nikola. Easiest way to Larket is to just fly northeast. If you need to mine, the Xalious mountains below us are closest.” Then she is rounded on and her hands clasp behind her back as she takes a step closer to speak quieter, “I didn’t have to learn it because it was my first language because I grew up on an island only inhabited by avians called Vere. Bardriel? That’s a place that was the focus of many bedtime tales, myths and fairytales.” Where she is from, it's customary to have tattoos and the more you have the more important you are, but guessing that Brennia is covered in an intricate tattoo pattern, does that mean she was quite important? “I have many questions for you, but I need to wrap my mind around this first.”
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Uriphiel makes a mental note of the thing he needed, and the directions that Brennia listed off. The first thing he would need to accomplish was salvage. He would most definitely require a specialty smith, as his needs were a bit out of the ordinary for the average armorer. He listened attentively as she gave a brief explanation for her background, only finding himself to be more curious that prior. “Very well. You know where to find me when you are ready to discuss this further. I am going to fly out toward Larket and see if I can find any remains of my belongings. Thank you, again.” It had been a pretty long time since Uriphiel took flight. His large golden wings stretched out and shook themselves like a bird trying to recover from haphazardly striking a well cleaned window. When he finally launched himself into the sky, he came off a little crooked and inexperienced, although it was not long before he found himself on corrected course.