RP:Turn a New Page, Start an Old Story

Summary: Queen Hildegarde of Frostmaw contacts Odhranos out of the blue, calling for the mage's assistance. As the terramancer reaches the gates of the City of War, an air-rending roar echoes across the land. The battle-cry of the Silver.

This note is delivered by a frost dusted glass hummingbird.

The hummingbird will rest for a moment upon the shoulder of Odhranos, as if exhausted. After a moment of futile preening and the tiniest of chirrups, the bird will up and flutter hastily to the North.

Odhranos,

I need your help.

Find me when you can.

Faithfully,

Hildegarde

Satoshi's Library

Hildegarde’s saurian screech could be heard throughout Frostmaw, perhaps even across the land from the sheer ferocity held within it. The rumble that had vibrated down the mountain had certainly caused a stir within Frostmaw: creatures from the Eyrie had left their spire in a disgruntled fashion, circling high above and waiting for the all-clear so they could return to their icy roost; warriors took to the streets – men and women – ready for a battle if it came; the City of War prepared for the worst as the visitors and non-warring folk sought shelter and clamoured throughout the streets to try and reach it. The guards gestured to the western gate, with the Captain of the Queensguard stationed right there. “A disturbance in the west!” she yelled, preparing men to hold the gate should anything come forth. Should anyone dare to venture out to the source of the cacophony, they would find themselves drawn towards the area in which a near unnatural blizzard always seemed to stir… waiting to lead someone on to their eternal slumber in the snow or towards the nest of starving wyverns that were in dire need of a nibble. But if a traveller were either well prepared or simply lucky, they might make it to the warmth of a cave filled with beautiful night flowers. Flowers that had a glow to them and a gentle scent. A magic user might even be able to see a tear in a magical barrier; a tear that revealed that all was not as it seemed within the cave. Peering into that tear might just reveal the glimmer of a bridge, with what could only be described as an icy palace just beyond. If someone were magically sensitive and untrained, they may think it was the mind playing tricks upon them! Something seemed to be happening there. Something strange.

Odhranos had travelled to Frostmaw with as much expedience as he could manage. Lectures may have been cancelled, appointments rescheduled, but when one gets a message from one’s own queen, asking for help, academia will fall by the wayside. Having set off at daybreak, the mage took his own route to Frostmaw, bypassing the winding Northern Pass and instead making a beeline through the mountains, skirting peaks and, where necessary, tunneling between valleys to try and make up for lost time. Finally nearing the Southern Gates of the city, the mage spared himself a smile of relief at the familiar sight of the grand walls of the City of War, only to have his relief dispelled by the furious roar that echoed out across the city, rumbling down the valley. Breaking into a sprint, Odhranos entered the city, face turned upwards as he followed the great murmuring of the Eyrie, stirred from their nest. Calling out with his mind to the wheeling flock, a single speck of blue seperated from the mass and dropped from the sky, resolving itself as a frost drake as Kess dropped from the sky, swooping down to shadow the mage’s sprint. “Where?!” Odhranos shouted, his haste not leaving room for more words. <”West!”> Kestral responded, before pulling ahead of Odhranos with a strong wingbeat, landing a few paces ahead on his path. Scrambling aboard the frost drake’s back, the pair took off into the frigid sky once more, soaring high over the city walls and bearing westward, over the frozen tracts of the Hunting Grounds. Honing in on the sounds of saurian rage, Kestral banked northwards, setting them on a course for the great tumultuous mass of cloud and snow that was the nigh-eternal blizzard that occupied the north of the Hunting Grounds. “Land there, Kess, we’ll be beaten from the sky if we try flying through that.” Minutes later, the terramancer and frost drake had landed and were battling valiantly through the howling veils of snow and ice, hunkered double against the wind. <”This way!”> Kess cried, forging snout-first through the white haze, eventually leading the pair out of the storm and into the refuge of a cave, sheltered and protected from the katabatic winds outside. Once setting foot inside, Odhranos’ senses were immediately stirred, causing him to gaze around the cave suspiciously before he spotted the tear, hovering unnaturally in middair. Casting a worried gaze at Kestral, Odhranos approached the breach, reaching out first with a hastily procured staff of stone, prodding the tear to test its response to intrusion, before he risked a pinky finger, then a hand to the breach, before stepping through into the space beyond.

Hildegarde || The staff that Odhranos prodded through the breach would be unharmed, as would the mage when he passed through the breach. The tear felt cold, but with a little brief spark of heat to it, as if made by more than one mage with masteries in differing elements. Once the mage had crossed the breach, he would hear various noises: shrill screeches that were certainly not saurian, the smashing of objects and the yells of a warrior who is clearly now starting to feel the burn of their work. Should Odhranos cross the bridge and make his way towards the near palace like icy abode, he would find the doors open and the contents upturned and messy. It was evident that this home was once well kept and loved, but whatever had made its way in here had no love for the home or its contents. A cry of effort could be heard in the rooms ahead, double doors opening wide as a body came flying out of the room: the baby elephant sized creature making a wet squelching noise as it flew into the wall just next to the entryway that Odhranos was likely to have just crossed. The creature squeaked pathetically as it slowly slid down the wall and began to shrivel. Upon closer inspection, the creature itself was seen to be like a snot green maggot covered in coarse, wiry and strong hair like barbs. It featured a bit of a snout, lined with teeth that were designed to barb the flesh and get stuck there. A bite from this thing would be painful and removing it would likely be more painful than the initial bite itself. But… was that paper on the barb like teeth? It seemed to be paper and a little bit of flesh and reddish hair. “Begone!” the warrior roared as she swung her halberd down, axe-head screaming down and splitting a creature right down the middle; leaving brown like blood and perhaps mucus upon the edge of her weapon. The Queen looked weary and worse for wear. Her armour had been punctured and the beasts were clinging to her. The library was full of the things. They wriggled across the shelves, hungrily consuming books and shrieking as Hildegarde disturbed them in a bid to rescue the tomes from their consumption. The bookworms were hungry for knowledge and a side of flesh.

Odhranos was hesitant in stepping through the portal, the hair on the back of his neck standing up from the strange flavour of magic that the breach exuded, but when his inventory of limbs checked out, he turned his attentions to the source of the cacophony, now joined by disturbing inhuman shrieks. Motioning for Kestral to remain outside the portal, Odhranos’ golden cage hissed into life, spilling forth a wave of sand that enveloped the mage, settling in thick sandstone plates that clung to him like armor, while a cloud of large stone shards orbited the mage as he tentatively made his way across the frozen bridge. Stepping inside the palace, Odhranos peered around with a concerned gaze, trying to discern what had happened when the doors ahead were flung open by the passage of a colossal maggot-like creature. Cringing backwards in instinctive revulsion, the mage was about to move to inspect the shrivelled thing when Hildegarde’s battle-cry caught his attention. “Hildegarde!” Rushing to the door of the library, Odhranos surveyed the scene with abject horrow. These… things were… destroying, consuming, defiling... the BOOKS!!! Odhranos felt like crying, watching those vile abominations as they munched their way through aeons of precious literature, but his despair was quickly replaced with rage. The Gods themselves dare not stand between a scholar and his books. Turning scarlet with rage, Odhranos flung his arms wide as the orbiting cloud of stone exploded outwards, joined by more and more shards coalescing from the terramancer’s cage. Directing the tearing swarm of stone through each maggot within reach, the mage strode through the muck and chaos towards the dragon queen, his face set in a mask of anger as he took up position at her back. “I apologise for not coming sooner.” He growls through gritted teeth, vehemently carving another swathe through the mass of disgusting grubs.

Hildegarde heard the familiar voice, but she could not afford to turn to face Odhranos, not when these creatures were defiling the library. Once tired of books, they would simply launch themselves at the dragon, seeking flesh and blood to satiate their other hunger. “Odhranos,” she replied breathlessly as she felt the bump against her back, “mind yourself!” she cautions. She was confident he could hold his own, but she would nonetheless ensure she was looking out for him. Odhranos would feel a wriggle against his back, however. One of those bookworms had attached itself to Hildegarde, its toothy snout clinging to the point in which shoulder meets neck. It was meaty, heavy on her back and slowing her down but it didn’t prevent her from fighting on: jabbing the halberd out to spear another before flicking the halberd sharply to discard the dying aberration. “Look out!” she roared, spearing the halberd upwards to defend from an incoming strike from above as a group of bookworms tossed themselves from the very top of the bookshelves with the aim of crashing down upon both mage and warrior.

Odhranos grunted sternly in response as he swept his swarm of stone around for another pass, the chittering mass of shards swirling around the two combatants to keep the floor-bound grubs from advancing. When Odhranos felt the grotesque wriggling against his back, he whipped his head around to find the source, grimacing with disgust when he found the worm that had leeched itself onto Hildegarde’s shoulder. Reaching towards his cage, the mage willed a narrow spike of stone from the whirling sand, grasping it like a knife, which he then drove into the body of the maggot. The shard disappeared into the body of the worm, only to explode out moments later in a collar of spiked blades around the business end of the maggot’s bloated trunk. Swiftly beheading the maggot, the weighty body dropped away in a splatter of mush, leaving the teeth unfortunately still buried in the dragon knight’s flesh, but relieving some of the weight slowing her down. At that moment, the air above was filled with descending bookworm, catching Odhranos by surprise. Raising his arms to protect his face, the plates of stone armor on his arms bore the bites of the landing maggots, only to detach from Odhranos and disappear down the worm’s maws, rapidly expanding once within to detonate the grubs like vile balloons.

Hildegarde felt the weight drop from her, much to the misfortune of these greedy grubs. With the weight lifted, Hildegarde is able to move her halberd with much more finesse and ease; swinging it in an upward arc to slay a few of the incoming bookworms as others exploded around her with thanks to the work of Odhranos. There are few grubs remaining new in the room. Some have chosen to scurry off in terror and with a sense of survival. Few remaining in the room trying to eat what literature they can. One bookworm in particular is chewing upon a large tome, but ceases as it slowly realises that its kin had been all but eradicated within the room. The coarse hairs upon the beast seem to form rather expressive eyebrows, which have furrowed as it swings its eyeless head in the direction of Odhranos, squirming towards him. It inches closer to Hildegarde and Odhranos, chirruping and mewing pathetically as its eyebrows fell in what might be described as a sad expression. Hildegarde stopped for a moment to look at it, her halberd lowering just an inch as she prepares to let the thing live and scurry away. Her code of honour meant that it deserved a chance to flee, rather than die at her hands. She would absolutely kill it if necessary, but if it was a mindless beast that wished to flee and survive, she would permit it. Instead, the bookworm suddenly reared up and hissed at the duo before exploding in a burst of magic. The magical energy rumbled towards Odhranos and Hildegarde alike, its energy a combination of many destructive spells: ice, fire, electricity and acid. “Odhranos!” the Silver yelled, turning her back to the exploding beast and coiling an arm around the terramancer whether he liked it or not. She was his commanding officer in the Eyrie and it was her duty to him to ensure that he was protected! With a splat and a ringing left in their ears, it seemed like their ordeal was over… for now.

Odhranos took a moment to catch his breath as the larval onslaught paused, though his shard-swarm did take a few final potshots at the grubs that continued to tear into the books. Literal consumption of literature is to be highly discouraged. As the strangely eyebrowed grub approached, Odhranos recalled his shards to him having them hover warily behind him as he studied the curious maggot, that bore rather disturbing similarity in eyebrows to a certain colleague and friend of the mage's. When Hildegarde lowered her halberd, Odhranos similarly lowered his guard, not overly concerned by one single worm after having dealt with a number of its kin. As such, he was caught off-guard when the creature reared up and exploded, his shards moving to interpose themselves between them and oncoming wave too late, putting up a meagre defence before being battered apart before the tide of magic. The terramancer found himself enveloped in a steel embrace as the storm hit, only then gathering himself enough to reign in his stone to ward Hildegarde's back against what remained of the explosion's force. When the dust and maggot-goo settled, Odhranos was immediately concerned with the wellbeing of his companion. "Xalious save me, are you alright?!" He extricated himself and gave the queen a hasty glance over, looking for any serious wounds that needed immediate attention.

Hildegarde is most definitely hurt, but it’s not really life threatening or a wound she is concerned with which is why she gently waves the concern away after releasing Odhranos from her protective grip. “Don’t worry. Are you okay?” she asked, sole eye giving him the once over to check for any injuries or points for concern. “I am sorry that I summoned you here. I didn’t expect this to be our meeting,” she admitted to him apologetically. “I came here to fetch something for you and noticed the infestation,” she explained, gesturing to a small hole in the floor as if something had burrowed its way up from the earth. With a thump, the butt of her halberd touches the floor and she expels a weary sigh. Hildegarde looks tired. She still looks strong and ready to fight to the death for Frostmaw, but she certainly looks as though she’s missed a few nights of sleep. “Well. We may as well sit,” she said with a little smile, gesturing to the cosy armchairs. “The mess can be cleared later,” by mess she means the numerous carcasses

Odhranos nodded in response, he had been spared the degree of injury that Hildegarde had undergone, largely at the cost of her own injuries, so he did feel quite concerned over her obvious exhaustion. He couldn't help but smile a bit when she gestured towards the armchairs, so out of place amidst the chaos and gore of the room. Seeking a pair of chairs that weren't completely soaked in maggot-slime, Odhranos offered the dragon some gentle assistance in navigating the gunk-strewn path; much as he did not want to marr the image of strength and resolve that his commanding officer portrayed, as a friend, he was concerned for Hildegarde's wellbeing and wished to offer what support he could. Once seated, Odhranos surveyed the scene in it's entirety for the first time. "I thought I had seen some horrors in my life, but this… really pains my heart to see.* Smiling sadly, Odhranos turned his attention back to Hildegarde, tilting his head in inquiry! "I received your message, was it this infestation that you needed help with or something else entirely? You mentioned coming to fetch something here?"

Hildegarde's chosen armchair had a thin layer of slime upon it, which she delicately wiped away without so much as a grimace! Sitting upon the chair let out a little wet squelch, which polite company may have found embarrassing, but Hildegarde and Odhranos know the source of the noise. No need for the 'it was the chair!' debacle. Without the guidance of Odhranos, Hildegarde likely wouldn't have made it to the seat without a small slip or two. "Indeed," she agreed, casting a glance around the library and noticing the chewed upon tomes. Some had been gobbled up without any hope of recovery. A few were, however, only lightly chewed and therefore could reclaim their spot on the shelves. "I did not bring you here just to break your heart," she told him with a little smile, "nor did I actually bring you here to tackle some bookworms!" she confesses with a snort. From the depths of a satchel that had been draped across her armour, Hildegarde withdraws a tome that simply emanates the cold. "It's something I wish to give to you, in the belief that you will find the right person for it. It was... is... Satoshi's," she admits quietly, as her hand gently lands upon the front cover of the book. "I found it out in the west. The book likely has a mind of its own, if it wants to return to her I am confident it will. But in my hands, it is utterly useless. I have no understanding of magic, nor is it something I can wield," she says, looking at the book fondly. "I know this is not the kind of magic that you wield, of course," she knew the terramancer, "but I believe you have a good heart. You have honour, my friend. And that is not something a person can fake or buy." The knight takes the book and holds it out to Odhranos, revealing fully the Frost-Bound Arcane Lexicon. It emanated power and cold.

Odhranos laughed as he sat forward in the chair, trying to ignore the sensation of the cushion trying to stick to the back of his robes as he did so. “It’s a heartbreaking sight, but I’d rather have been here for the sake of saving some of the books than been spared the pain in exchange for the loss of any more of these precious pieces of knowledge.” Odhranos looks around from his seated position and takes in the room, the concentric layers of curved bookshelves, all centred around this space, which when free of grub-grime, would actually make for a wonderful space to enjoy the library’s contents. When Hildegarde reached into her satchel, the mage raised an eyebrow in intrigue as the ice-clad tome was lifted free from its abode and its origin explained. At the mention of his previous superior, Odhranos’ eyes grew wide with amazement as he realised quite what it was Hildegarde was presenting to him. Swaddling his hands in the cloth of his voluminous sleeves, Odhranos gingerly accepted the navy-leather bound book, trailing his fingertips lightly over the pristine surface of the glassy-ice that encased the navy leather-bound tome, marvelling at the flawless perfection of the frozen seal that locked the book. “This is…” Odhranos’ voice was hushed with wonder at the magnitude of what now sat in his hands. “...invaluable. No, beyond invaluable. I have... heard reference to this book before; Satoshi supposedly stored all her notes and research in it… it’s one of the most valuable books ever to leave the Guild’s records.” Odhranos stared down at his hands incredulously, holding the book as if it were a pile of gold-dust, like one thoughtless movement would make it dissipate in his hands. Tearing his gaze away from the book, the terramancer looked back at the dragon knight, his expression visibly torn between gratitude and worry. “I couldn’t possibly accept this, it is a priceless relic of Frostmaw’s Throne. Surely it should remain in the safeguard of Frostmaw?” WIth momentary reluctance, Odhranos held out his sleeve-swaddled hands, offering the book back to Hildegarde.

Hildegarde watched as Odhranos took hold of the icy bound tome, knowing full well that if anyone might appreciate its value it would be this man. She nodded as he spoke of its value and worth, he was right in saying all of this yet could not conceal her surprise when he refused the item. It was not an unhappy surprise, it was merely a surprise signalled by the cocking of her eyebrow. "And yet, it was not safe here," she said gently, casting a glance around the room to bring his attention to the recently deceased creatures. "A hunger for knowledge, from beast or man, will drive people towards it. Whilst I know it might remain sealed for a time," she was aware of its enchantments, "I think someone could find a way to prise it open if they really wanted to. Or destroy it if they were so inclined," she said with a little shrug. "I can keep here in Frostmaw, but..." she looked at the blasted thing and found herself sighing. "I am a warrior," she confessed without needing to really confess it. It's like getting a slug to say it's a slug. "I don't know much about magic books or tomes. I can protect it, but I fear that the kind of protection I can give it is not enough." At last, the Queen of War says softly: "I need help." It's said as softly as the first snowfall, when it just quietly falls from the air and gently reaches the ground. It almost sounds as though she is asking for help not just with the book, but with many things.

Odhranos glanced down at the glassy surface of the arcane ice, admiring how the perfectly clear material made it seem like the book within was floating between his hands, buoyed up in its glacial shell. The leather clad book itself looked perfectly innocuous, ornate yes, but Odhranos’ awareness of the priceless horde of arcane knowledge stored within those navy covers made the ice-bound tome weigh twice as much in his cloth-swaddled hands. Odhranos turned his attention back to Hildegarde, about to protest further; surely a better candidate in the Guild could be found, or even one outside. Hell, even an apprentice cryomancer might be better suited to wielding Satoshi’s grimoire, given the aspect of the artefact. But the terramancer’s protests were stifled by the Queen’s quiet words. Odhranos’ words petered out in astonishment and his eyes grew wide with surprise first, then worry. Placing the book aside absentmindedly, with certainly less care than such an object deserved, Odhranos got out of his chair and knelt beside Hildegarde’s, looking up at the dragon’s face with blatant concern. “Hildegarde, what is it?” Odhranos’ tone is gentle and consoling, as the terramancer drops title, rank and order in favour of reaching out to a friend seemingly in need.

If Hildegarde were in better spirits, she might have kept her eye trained upon the book given their recent circumstances but at this moment in time, it's simply not on her mind to do this. As Odhranos knelt by her chair, Hildegarde suddenly felt a pit in her belly. This moment made her think of home, it made her think of seeking wisdom from her father, her brothers... even her friends who have long since left these lands. "I..." she begins, but already feels quite lost in trying to explain what exactly is going on in her mind. "I am stuck. A long time ago, I died because of a lich and Leone worked to bring me back. She, along with others, built me a heart of blue iron and magic. It keeps me alive but... I do not sleep. I hardly eat," a shocking fact for any dragon, "I feel as though I am no longer really myself. I feel as though I have been robbed," she confessed. The knight shifts slightly in her seat, trying to consider how best to explain her current position. "I asked Aramoth to help me. I prayed to him, I summoned him in the west," she couldn't remember if Odhranos had been present during this particular event, it was all a bit of a blur. "Aramoth... Aramoth did tell me that I could win it back, my heart. But I am tired. This pilgrimage is draining me each day but... I cannot give up." The weight on her shoulders is heavy.

Odhranos had heard the story of Hildegarde’s death and subsequent resurrection, though it had occurred shortly before the fateful day that he washed up on the shore of Cenril, so it was never an event that he had been privy to the particulars of until it had passed into common legend. Odhranos’ first experience of the Silver was as Queen Hildegarde, Claimant of the Throne of Frostmaw, as she rallied her troops to reclaim her stolen kingdom. It was rather curious to think that, much as the terramancer considered himself close to the woman seated before him, he really had never known her before her resurrection. That said, Odhranos felt a strong empathy for Hildegarde’s pain, perhaps compounded by his own experiences of loss in the hot dusty expanses to the south, so far removed from the frigid wilds of Frostmaw. “When you spoke to Aramoth, did he charge you with a specific task? A trial perhaps?” Certainly the Silver’s wording seemed to suggest such a thing. Odhranos pursed his lips with concern and straightened from his kneeling position, until he was slightly below Hildegarde’s eye-level. “How can I help? If there is anything I can do to ease your burden, you need only ask” The edge of the mage’s mouth tweaked upwards and he smiled gently, as if to try comfort the ailing woman.

Hildegarde didn't feel very queenly at the best of times, it is certainly something that she has had to learn and something that she has had to actively think of in her day to day life. She had never meant to fight for Frostmaw's throne but a fight for her life quickly became a fight for justice. "He told me darkness was coming," but what it wasn't clear and that was simply the nature of a godly being. "To seek out a fallen star, which I believe I have found but it is deep in the earth; beyond my reach." It was an old fallen star, then, not something that had only recently fallen. "I feel like this is a bit of a wild goose chase. Aramoth is the god of war, why not just send me into battle? Every battle is essentially a form of worship for him," she mused thoughtfully, but she knew herself that Aramoth did not give her that task simply because they knew one another. She had served her time again and again; battle after battle; war after war. They were well acquainted but one held the other in their power, it was not an equal relationship. The mere thought of it made Hildegarde chortle lightly, "They used to call me Aramoth's daughter," she told the terramancer with a little smile, "and yet here I am, unable to complete the task given."

Odhranos' eyebrows furrowed as Hildegarde explained her quest; such a strange thing for the God to charge someone with. He'd expect such a cryptic challenge from Xalious, Gods know that he would have some unknowable need for such a thing; but what need would the God of War have with a fallen star? So wrapped up in this mystery was Odhranos that it took him time to process the rest of Hildegarde's story. "It is strange. I fail to see how this could be a fitting trial. To retrieve a star. And one buried in the earth you say?" Odhranos pondered the challenge. "If it is buried, then it would likely not be too challenging for me to find it. The realms of the earth are as easy to traverse for me as the surface, and I would be happy to lend a hand, you need only..." Odhranos stopped halfway through his sentence, his eyes growing wide in an instance, and slowly, a smile spreads across his face. "It couldn't be, no, no that would be to simple, surely not... But! It might... " What began as a quiet chuckle, then developed into a deep warm laughter. "Oh, I do love trying to ascertain the will of Gods." the terramancer grins up at the dragon. "Aramoth is the God of War, but war is much more than just battle. You would know better than many that a battle is won by fighters, but a war is won by commanders." Odhranos raised an eyebrow conspiratively. "But a commander cannot single handedly win a war. They need to rely on the strength of their followers and know where best to apply their skills. Like, just for example, using a terramancer to acquire a buried fallen star." The terramancer's grin grew even broader. "I suspect, though I may be wildly incorrect, that Aramoth means for you to be more than the master of battle. He means for you to be the master of War."

Hildegarde would not question the will of a god, given that she was a faithful kind of woman. She worshipped Aramoth and a few others, but the God of War was her main deity and therefore any command or request was something that didn't receive much scrutiny from her unless it was morally questionable. Finding a fallen star was, on the surface, a morally sound quest. When Odhranos audibly questions the quest that has been given to her, the knight offers a shrug of her shoulder, "It is odd, yes, for the God of War to task it. I have been mulling it over for some time now, reading scrolls and books in search of any previous quest like it," that explained why she was quite so protective of the library and the books within. "The only thing I could find close to it was that knights and warriors of the past had been tasked to find exotic materials to craft fine weapons or armour, things fit for a god," she told him. Even then, what did crafting something have to do with returning her mortal beating heart? She wanted to get away from having something crafted to make her feel normal, so surely it wouldn't be that. When Odhranos begins to excitedly muse about what the gods could possibly want and how best to interpret their will, Hildegarde can't help but get a little caught up in it herself. Her lips curl a little into the beginning of a smile, his excitement is near enough infectious. "Are you saying I am not already the master of war?" she asked him in that familiar playful but ready to get serious if needs be tone that was heard in happier times. The question is asked with a raised brow, though, ready to ascertain what Odhranos truly means from the statement.

Odhranos raised his hands in surrender and smiles. “I’d be quite foolish to say such a thing within reach of a halberd, now wouldn’t I? I’ve seen you lead an army, raised from nothing in months, against the walls of the City of War, and win. So safe to say my faith in your mastery is sound, My Queen.” From his kneeling position, the terramancer bowed flamboyantly, half in jest and half to prove his point. However, when he straightened, a grave expression pinched his features. “But I’m not the one that needs convincing. Nor, would I suggest that Aramoth needs convincing either.” Odhranos raises an eyebrow and glances at Hildegarde with a sort of hesitant concern. “I think… you might need convincing.” The mage paused for a moment, studying the Silver’s face as he tried to judge her reaction. “I… don’t mean to overstep my bounds. In fact, I implore you to stop me if I do, it’s not my wish, nor my place, to pass comment. But…” Odhranos’ mouth twisted into a grimace, as if he was unsure of his own words. “...I believe you need to restore your faith in yourself.” Clambering to his feet, the mage folded his arms behind his back and began pacing, not daring to meet the dragon’s eyes as he spoke, “You… mentioned how you feel no longer yourself. If I’m to be completely honest, I’m amazed that you have managed to hold so strong for so long, after… well, dying, for Gods sakes!” Odhranos wheeled around and faced Hildegarde with eyes brimming with concern. “You died, returned from Aramoth’s halls, and were thrown headlong into one of the bloodiest wars Lithrydel has seen in the past half decade with your hands barely warmed from the death-chill. Then as soon as your blade was set aside, you assumed the throne, a lonely and punishing task if there ever were one.” Odhranos wrapped his arms around himself and laughed sadly. “Any one of those things would be enough to assure someone’s names live on in legend, but you shouldered not only those burdens, but you shouldered them alone.” Odhranos paced some more, quiet slow steps, each more uncertain than the last. “Xalious bless, I can’t even order my own words…” He stopped, his hands falling to his sides as he stared ahead, trying to divine some secrets in the goo-splodged book-spines ahead of him. “I suppose, what I’m trying to say is, you needn’t - shouldn’t - shoulder this alone.” The terramancer continued staring ahead, not daring to meet Hildegarde’s eyes, for fear of what he might find there.

Hildegarde was a tough fighter, but such a flamboyant bow had her losing the fight against her curving lips as she broke into an amused smile. When the terramancer straightened, the Queen cocked her head and moved her shoulders slightly as if straightening along with him. When the hesitantly concerned words reach her, the warrior turned Queen heaves a gentle sigh with a small defeated nod. She had lost her faith some time ago. She needed to get that back, but it was an uphill battle on what felt like the steepest and iciest slope she had ever had the misfortune of being on. Hildegarde can only listen on in rapt silence as Odhranos speaks freely, but his points stab at the blue iron heart that churns in her chest. Death was the greatest release she had ever known: it was a sensation of sheer relief and as though a weight had been lifted. She had the opportunity to go to the Great Hall of Aramoth, where she received a welcome worthy of heroes! It was a moment that she would never forget. Nor would she forget being painfully pulled from that hall and being made to escape her own fort and city with the monumental task of reclaiming it from cruel masters. Eternal peace and rest was taken from her because people didn't want to let her go... and felt she was required. The sense of duty that she carried and lived by prevented her from making any bid to return to the Hall herself, but she certainly didn't stop herself from going first into battle with her halberd in hand. She always knew that she went on the front line not only to embolden her own warriors and show them that she would certainly lay her life on the line for them, but she knew that she did it for selfish reasons too. Hildegarde had the warrior's malady, she knew that much. Sleepless nights, intrusive thoughts and memories when exposed to similar scenarios or sounds and settings. It happened to many warriors she knew, but there was no cure for it - only death. When Odhranos confirms that Hilde shouldn't be shouldering the burden alone, her strong shoulders sink with acceptance. "You are right," she tells him quietly, fearful that speaking louder might somehow make the whole world hear their conversation; that somehow everyone would know of this private and vulnerable moment. "I have shouldered this for too long. I need to... to restore my faith in myself, so as to restore myself," she said with a gentle nod; casting a small tear to the floor with the motion. She was grateful that Odhranos could not meet her eye right now.

Odhranos’ shoulders flinched slightly when Hildegarde’s quiet words broke the silence, the mage had feared anger and reprimand for delving so far into the Queen’s personal problems, but he found himself both relieved and yet deeply saddened when Hildegarde responded in such a fragile and vulnerable tone. The mage let his posture slump and he began taking slow ponderous steps around the circumference of the reading nook as he measured his next words. “If you don’t mind me asking, Hildegarde, who were you... before?” The mage paused in his slow promenade and a wry half-smile pulled at the corners of his lips. “Kestral has taken you for somewhat of a personal hero, since you welcomed us into the Eyrie, and she was delighted when Raphaline was able to recount stories of your exploits before we knew you.” The terramancer continued his slow pacing as he went on. “It occured to me then that I never knew you as you were, before the war, and before you died and returned. The Hildegarde of Raphaline’s stories could well have been a different person, for all I knew.” Odhranos shook his head and stared intently at a pair of books ahead of him, reaching out to straighten them as they had fallen crooked in the ruckus. “Perhaps, in order to realise who you are now, you need to recall who you were, and confront the differences between you and her. To accept those differences.” Absorbing himself in tidying and reorganising the shelf so he can avoid looking back, the terramancer ponders. “Being a teacher, I find that often the best means of learning a subject is to teach others. It forces you to properly process and organise the information in your own mind before you can impart it.” Finishing the shelf and stepping back to examine his handiwork, Odhranos huffed with affirmation, before he finally turned to face Hildegarde again. “Perhaps the purpose of the quest is not in its completion, but in the journey taken with the companions required?”

Hildegarde had never been quite so stumped by a simple question before. Who was she before all of this? Thinking of the past brought her both pleasant and unpleasant memories; thoughts of home and family; her brothers... and how it had come crashing down on her head. A small turn of her head and moment with her eye shut sends the unpleasantness away for a reprieve. The thought of Kestral brings a little smile to her face. She hadn't seen Odhranos' companion in quite some time, in fact, she couldn't quite recall when she did last encounter them. She knew she had inducted them both into The Eyrie, but beyond that she couldn't quite recall any recent meetings with the duo. The mention of Raphaline brings a wider smile to her face: she missed the bard and had relied on her for a time. When the world felt dark, as though every candle in a long and dark hallway was being extinguished one by one and bringing with it an overwhelming sense of dread, Raphaline was there to bring comfort and song to the dragon. She brought with her a sense that this situation would not be one that would be endured forever and yet.... and yet it has. Another small turn of her head, as if to wish another unpleasant thought away. "Probably quite different from what you might imagine," she advised him finally with a chortle-come-sigh, "I was born in Xalious. Mother, father and two brothers - I'm the youngest of the bunch. I only have one brother remaining, however," she confessed with a smile that faltered somewhat. Hildegarde had taken his life. Whilst she understood it to be a necessity to prevent him from committing further crimes, she was still riddled with the guilt of it. "All I ever wanted to be was a knight. Defend the weak, bring justice where I could and stop the needless murder of the innocent. I achieved that goal," she told the terramancer as she straightened her posture, "and then some, as you know!" Hildegarde was always a humble sort. She didn't want to embellish her story and she didn't want to give nuggets of information that might make it sound as though she's a hero of epic proportions, but it's evident that there's more to the brief intro than she's given. "Companions do make the journey," she said with a nod, "or so they say."

Odhranos can’t help the little snort of amusement. “”And then some” she says, as if no kingdoms were liberated in the process. Let it never be said that Queen Hildegarde is prone to exaggeration..” The mage’s expression lightens, as his smile makes crows feet peep from the corners of his eyes and he chuckles warmly, pacing back towards the pair of armchairs, straightening and wiping gunk off books as he goes. “Perhaps then, sending word to those you hold close might be beneficial. Friends, long absent, gathered together for a grand quest. It does sound like the sort of grand epic that the bards are so fond of.” By now, Odhranos has made his way back to the armchairs, and spies Satoshi’s grimoire, rudely plonked on the small table next to his chair. The terramancer blanches, recalling how carelessly he had put such a priceless relic aside, and so he gingerly picked it up in sleeve-swaddled arms and cradled it, as if to apologise to the book for being so unkind to it. He sits back down into the armchair, and diligently begins polishing the spotless ice with the hem of his sleeve, as if it were not impeccably clean already. “I’m sorry there’s not much more I can do to be of help. Something as self-altering as going through death and returning is on another scale to anything I have undergone, so it is difficult to try and understand, and even harder to know how I can help.” Odhranos sighs, then coughs sharply, straightening his back and turning to face Hildegarde with a kind expression. “But, for what it is worth, I will support you as best I can, in howeversomuch as you may need it, Hildegarde.” The terramancer squints as he smiles, baring the genuine and soft heart that the kindly professor had become known for.

Hildegarde cannot help but smile at that amused snort and subsequent words. He had a point! She had reduced her history into "and then some" when there was simply so much more to her that she couldn't put it all together. Many had tried to, Gods, even she had tried with a journal but simply too much had passed to record and stay on top of. It all simply became "and then some". When Odhranos mentions sending word to those who she holds close, she nods and offers him a little smile. She knows in her heart that those people are long gone, but she still holds on to a candle of hope that they will return or that they are not too far away after all. Satoshi, Kirien, Leone, Raphaline, even that wizard Svilfon! Then there was Dami. Whatever happened to that little house in Xalious? A dream that would never come true, given that duty was always going to be Hildegarde's lifeblood and, ultimately, become a cross she would need to bear. "A fine idea," she assures him, knowing that whatever letter she sends, many will not reach their recipient. As Odhranos finally notes that he will support her however he can, she dips her head with gratitude. "Thank you for that, my friend. It is kind of you. I think finding that fallen star and bringing it to the surface would be a good idea though."

Odhranos smiles wanly at Hildegarde’s reaction to his suggestion, fully aware that life in Lithrydel was not without its risks, and there were few that could not count some amongst their friends and comrades that had moved on from this world. “I have those, on occasion.” he chuckles, patting Satoshi’s ice-bound book idly. “Then, I would be happy to lend a hand. Do you have any specifics on where this fallen star might be? Even a region that it might have landed would be enough to track it down. Celestial objects are not too difficult to differentiate from native materials. They…” The mage waves his hands about, as if fishing for a word that eludes him. “...feel different? Like something foreign. Like they are both glassy smooth and yet porous like starlight.” Odhranos’ hands float in the air for a moment before dropping back into his lap. “No, that doesn’t do it justice. It’s not easy to explain. I have a fascination with material texture, so I’ve studied almost every substance the Mage’s Guild has in storage. Save a few that are kept under tight lock and key. But I have had the opportunity to study sky-iron and other stones that have fallen from the heavens.” Odhranos’ eyes twinkle with passion. “You can feel the journey in the sky-iron. The heat burned into its surface from its fall, the icy emptiness in its core. It is ethereal.” The terramancer sighs wistfully, before laughing abruptly, grinning sidelong at the queen. “All that long-winded nonsense to say, I can help, and I’d be happy to.”

Hildegarde liked his suggestion, though she knew it was likely she would never get a response to her letters or that they would even reach their intended recipients. Perhaps she would still write them and send them in the hope they would reach their intended party. Maybe she would get a reply, but she certainly wouldn't know unless she actually tried. When the talk turns to the fallen star once again, the knight nods her head, "Ah, yes. It's an interesting one, as I believe the star was separated in its fall to the earth. There are three aspects that I've been able to trace based on written records that the Mages Guild have been keeping," the nerds were useful, "but the locations are odd. One is the Duchy of Vhys," a land that was strange and rather empty in terms of population. "The isle of Rynvale, so we would be lucky if that smith, Ranok, has not found it and pulled it yet. I doubt he'd be willing to part with it if he has," she is hopeful it has not been dredged up from the earth, for she was not in a position to bargain with him. Not because she lacked resources, but more so because she didn't have the energy to do that. "The last location is Chartsend." The knight watches Odhranos for a reaction at this point, these locations are not odd in themselves, but the fact a part of the star has landed in each is. It suggests that the star had broke itself and then piloted in these directions, as the flight path is just too unusual otherwise. "If we can find the shards, I can then decide what to do with it. If you will help me, my friend, I would be honoured by this. I need to reach out to Lionel and Khitti," she told him, "I need their help if I am to follow your advice," she told him with a nod and a smile, indicating that she had been listening to him and was taking it on board. "Please, feel free to stay in the library for as long as you like. I will be sending some fellows along soon to... ah, well, to clean up the mess," she gestured at the mess that had been left by the earlier fight. "I must attend to matters though. No more wallowing," she said with a winning smile, just like the old Hildegarde would do. "Stay safe, Odhranos," she bids him before walking forth, pausing only to clamp a friendly hand on his shoulder and pat it lightly before finally departing.

Odhranos strokes his chin in thought. "That is... quite an odd flight path. The star must have split unevenly when it did, to have such a discrepancy between its final resting places. That's quite fascinating." Odhranos is already absorbed in thought, plotting which books on celestial aerodynaics he'll dredge up once he returns to Xalious, but he is shaken from his thoughts as Hildegarde gets up to leave. "Ahh, absolutely. It will be good to see Khitti again. And to finally meet Lionel. I've heard great things, but somehow managed not to meet him personally in my time in Lithrydel." Odhranos stands to see Hildegarde off, accepting the gauntleted pat with a smile before bowing slightly at the waist. "I am glad to hear it, Hildegarde. Do stay safe." Odhranos raises a hand and waves the queen off until she disappears around the shelves and he turns to survey the remaining carnage that remains. "Right! Well! This won't do..."

When Hildegarde's fellows eventually make it to the library, they would find the room extraordinarily immaculate, with every salvageable book neatly returned to its place, the shelves diligently polished and cleared off goop, and a pile of damaged books collected on the table at the centre of the library. Beside that pile, a number of thin shale tablets would be found, with a catalogue of the damaged books and suggestions as to where replacements for some of the books might be found, if possible, as well as the addresses of every reputable binder between Xalious and Cenril.