3. The Night Before the Senate Meeting

The Night Before the Senate Meeting


  • Oreth sits atop the bardic college, just far enough back that he and Levik aren't easily visible from the street. The spider's front two legs are draped over the druid's fur-clad shoulders as he leans back against the roofing tiles and gazes east to the senate building impassively.


  • Ting enters the Market shop long before dawn and the candles in the window that usually glow dimly in the window all night long are extinguished and followed by irregular and barely audible noises from behind the door.


  • Belade talks to some of the younger male guards and defenders, after which they seem to be a lot more peaceful, often looking without seeing, dreaming about the things she whispered into their ears.

    An extremely small female hin, clad all in black, face hidden behind a hood and cowl, slips through the night, listening to conversations, stealing everything that's valuable and unguarded.

    Ezachiel is seen in conversation with his fellow Banites, discussing the best course of action.


  • Corana can be seen in the commons, clad in her usual black and gold, the sea bird tattoos encircling her eyes painted a glistening gold. She preaches to any who will lend their ear for a moment about dire events that will follow. She speaks of Umberlee's displeasure with Peltarch, and places blame with the Senators whom she says fail to respect and fear the Sea Queen. She predicts that the chaos and bloodshed to follow will serve as a reminder to all of Umberlee's continued presence over Peltarch.

    Her words are met with mixed interest and reviews. Throughout any retorts, she merely sits back with a slight smirk on her face, occasionally shaking her head before beginning to preach again.


  • Deacon has instructed his men and women to prepare for a upcoming street war between the various defender factions, urging them to not take sides just yet

    He is sitting in the commons most of the time, discussing things in low tones with his first mate, Drelan and sometimes Mirkali Vragnorich, out of all this one thing is apparant to most, they will not lose their docks to the first best dictator


  • A grim priest enters a quiet sanctuary deep below the soils of Faerun to approache an altar, and, bowing to the altar at the waist, the tinted light that floods the room dances on his clanking armors. His servants bow the altar behind him, but he snaps to call them off as they begin to follow them. They take posts as he sits down at a desk in his library, surrounded by shelves of dusty tomes, and tries to gather his thoughts, incense occasionally burning as he probes his divine connection for insight into the coming day.


  • _Elorathall sits in the cold darkness of his prison, as he has for years. Thinking of better days that were, and better days that will come. Thinking of his friends and family, of his enemies and rivals.

    Wondering if the rumours of civil war are true._

  • E

    Drelan Ashire returns to the city in his golden armor, once again dirty from the road a heavy fur cloak around him. It seems as if he's been sleeping outside for sometime, his eyes seeming to be weary from pondering something troubling. He makes his way with the occasional clank of plate against chain to the mermaid for a good nights rest, and one of his few vices.

  • Peltarch Far Scouts

    _Sierra watches the play unfolding on the streets from the safety of her lover’s apartment while he sleeps. The smell of burnt leather still permeated the room, and smelt like badly roasted bovine. A strong wind blows against the window, causing it to slam shut and shudder against the panes, inciting a shiver of unrest to thrum up her spine.

    ‘Something will happen soon. Everyone knows it,’ she thinks to herself. ‘Everyone can feel it.’

    Putting out the lamp light near the desk, the flicker of flame briefly illuminates a stack of poetry mixed that lay beside a ledger. Crawling back into bed with Nico, she wraps her arms tightly around him, whispering prayers that her god would be kind enough to protect them both, and if not both, just Nico.

    After all. He has to replace her boots… which somehow accidentally ended up in the fireplace._

    Bah Humbug.

    (( Me thinks Gobble it catching the Poetry bug!))

  • G

    Twas the night before the senate meeting and all through the apartment
    Nico Black was pacing, thinking of the Defense Department

    Sierra's boots were placed by the fire with care
    But Nico couldn't help wishing for the tiniest of a flare

    She was nestled all snug in his bed
    While visions of the future danced in his head

    Her in her nightgown and he still in his leather
    He started to unstrap it so they could snuggle together

    When out in the streets there was such a clatter
    He sprang from his seat to see what was the matter

    Away to the window he flew like a flash
    Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash

    The moon on the breast of the new fallen snow
    Gave the luster of mid-day to the objects below

    What he saw down below made him suddenly alarmed
    Various Defenders and all fully armed

    They marched through the street like it was theirs to keep
    This night's slumber would escape him, he couldn't sleep

    He watched as they marched by their sashes a blowing
    Looking then to the sky he saw more snowing

    Their metal armor would rub and it would squeak
    It must be a horrible sight to those who were meek

    Nico slipped off to bed then a smile on his face
    Oh how he loved Peltarch the Jewell of the Icelace

    He thought about how soon the bards would sing
    As Peltarch crowned the Merchant King.

    ((couldn't help the parody when I saw the title. 😛 ))

  • S

    _A lone, robed figure stands near the harbor, shuffling a deck of cards idly. He watches a few ships sailing off into the dark and wonders where they're going.

    "Perhaps it's just some fishermen going for a cruise…at night...through eel infested waters..."

    Producing an ace from the deck of aces, he reflects that it's hard to lose when you hold all the cards._


  • In the Fighter's Academy, Talgrath goes through the motions of his fighting practice, noting here and there imperfections in his technique; and though he'd never admit it, noting which muscles have begun to weaken from old age. His armor lies in a pile near the door, and in a barracks not too far away, six Defenders have begun to don their armor. As the sun rises, they get into position…


  • Evendur stays at his office deep into the night while Danerk maintains a silent vigil over his charge. The two leave one beside the other, together hastening through the chill air to the Senator's plush apartment a block away. With relentless commitment to duty, Danerk stands guard outside Evendur's bedroom as he sleeps restlessly within, dreaming of the destruction to come.


  • Through the darkness of night and the brittle cold light of the day, the young paladin Mariston Thel is often seen leaving and returning to the city. His face is wrought with worry and his usually bright warm eyes are filled with deep concern. Though his stride is determined and occasionally he is seen just sitting on the steps of the temple; telling tales of heroes and dragons to the children and others who stop and listen.


  • Anna Sigerlson can be seen going in and out of the Phoenix Guild building. She check hourly on the situation of Vino Sten. When asked if they can see him, citizens are told he is resting and cannot emerge.


  • In the civic district, a dark haired, hooded figure watches the Tyrran temple, idly drumming his fingers on his knee. A small smile reveals itself under the shadow of the cowl – a citizen walks by, carrying many bags, parchments and stumbling slightly. The smile cracks into a grin as he slips back into the shadows.


  • As night folds over Peltarch and darkness brings the city to quiet rest, a pub is at its busiest hour. With warm lit windows, and boisterous songs, an elf is slipping unseen out the back to lean against the shadows of the wall, drawing in the cold bitter sea air, before returning to the drunks and the desperate.

    Meanwhile in the opposite side of town, a holy warrior is changing in to her white linen night dress, crouching down beside the bed in silent prayer, whispering words of gratitude, and offering a thought of strength to a senator in shiny shiny armor.


  • Syne sits at his window, his pale, gently glowing pupiless green eyes staring up at the silver light of the moon in silent rapture. A thin, constant whisp of smoke escapes the untouched pipe in his hand. Syne takes one sharp bite of his tongue, drawing blood. In the moonlight, he savors the simple pleasures of his existence.