#Jaylhe writing

[jaylhe]

     A noisy rustling in her closet was the sound that gradually roused Jaylhe, sometime in the afternoon. She clawed her way out of sleep with grumbling annoyance, peering into the open doorway through a screen of tangled curls. She’d forgotten to braid her hair by the very late hour she’d gone to bed; it had turned feral in its freedom.      Out of the darkness, something sparkling and heavy with crystals flew across the distance, landing on her head in a solid connection.      "Killian. What are you doing."  The enchantress mustered the words in a flat tone, croaking them out of a dry throat. 

     In the next moment he was standing over her bed, lifting a corner of the dress he’d thrown at her.  Just high enough to beam down a winning smile.      "Rise and shine, poppet! I have a client to meet this afternoon, and I need my sister with me with her best face on. I brought the elixir of life to speed you along.”      "Ugh."  She could smell the coffee before she spotted it, propping herself up on one elbow, and taking the immense trouble of raking her hair out of her face to expose the dark circles under her eyes. Her brother was visibly appalled, taking her lightly by the chin so that he could turn her face closer to the light.      "Jaylhe. What’s this? You already gave me the enchantments you prepared for sale, have you been doing more extracurricular work? Or just attending parties without me?"  Killian’s eyes narrowed, a speculative expression taking over his painstakingly amiable face.  "Does this have to do with that group you've been consorting with? I can’t have you looking like a bandicoon when there’s work to be done. I’m not sure I approve of these activities.“      "Just a bit of late night spell work, and it’s nothing cosmetics and the liberal application of caffeine can’t cure I’m certain.” She brushed him off, reaching for the mug he’d left on her bedside table. Jaylhe took a generous gulp, and while drinking avoided mention of the group in particular. She’d managed to go this long without explaining the specifics to Killian. It was better if it stayed that way. There was no chance of his approval if he knew what exactly they were doing.      A long night of scrying over the crystal Gregory had given her revealed some promising results. Water and ice were her schools of mastery, and water in particular eminently suitable for divination spells.  Jaylhe thought she’d pinned down a few likely locations for the mates to this gem. Though if Killian needed her, she’d have to send Gregory a missive quickly. Her brother’s chores often took up the entire afternoon and well into evening; she wouldn’t be able to tell him in person. And if he wanted her to meet that night, she’d have to find a way to escape Killian and his errands without rousing suspicion. But perhaps her brother wanted nothing more from her than smiles and sparkle and distraction. An easy chore and an early end.     “Out with you then. You want my best face? Make me another cup of this and leave me alone to get ready.”  The enchantress shoved her mug at him, now drained. She could make a good start on her letter to Gregory while he was out of the room.      Killian gave her a very long look before he complied, suspicion evident despite the smile he conjured. “Bright eyes and softness for this meeting, poppet. I’ll have another mug brought up.”      Several hours later, a series of maps and notes would find their way to Gregory’s desk, delivered by a sharp eyed barn owl. The bird would vanish from his room as silently as it had appeared, with no visible open window or door to mark its passing, as soon as all eyes had left it.

@gregorypenman

[gregorypenman]

Friends and Foes Aplenty

The battle between mother and son left Gregory with an ill feeling in the pit of his stomach. His actions against his mother gave him perspective on many things. The man of justice is not so in control of his emotions and his rage is very much a liability among his comrades. The vision shown to him by Linda also gave him clarity of his situation. With much deliberation, he has concluded that things could be much, much worse.

With a relaxed mind and a step forward, Gregory sets to work on the Sapphire Crusade once more. He begins his efforts with looking through his ledgers and bank statements for the expenses of maintenance, supplies, equipment, and debt to the nobility to whom he rents his lands from. It had been many weeks since he last taken a job. Even if he were able to procure a bounty from the wanted ads of the city, he had no man power to complete the job. With the fight against the dark wizard draining his funds, and his friends Arthur and Jaylhe still missing, his hands had become tied as his back now made a home upon the chair of his study. For days, he pored over the documents and receipts of the necessaries to keep the Stronghold active and he had come to the conclusion that if they continued the fight, if they did not take jobs, they would have to disband the Sapphire Crusade.

Realizing this, Gregory swallowed hard and made the call to the remaining members of the crusade. When all were in attendance he spoke with purpose and clarity. He informed them that the Crusade would disband if things continued the way they have. Without gold or resources, the organization would fall. Lillian, one of the veteran member and Quartermaster of the Crusade, spoke up to offer her family’s fortune to help keep the crusade alive for as long as needed to bring the wizard to justice, find Arthur and Jaylhe and rebuild their coffers. Gregory accepted the offer, but only an amount equal to two months. The crusade must maintain itself through its exploits to be truly worthy of remaining an organization.

With the matter of coin out of the way, the group now had to focus on the more important matters. Arthur and Jaylhe’s rescue is paramount, but while they rest in Dalaran, they are relatively safe, though Jaylhe was turned to a wraith-like being while in the “safety” of the magical city. It is a debate he has often with himself of their safety and though he worries much about his friends, there is nothing he can do. The struggle in the Kingdoms had hand-cuffed him to obligations. Arthur and Jaylhe were very much on their own.

The group decided to focus on the wizard and finding a means to track him down. Beathas and Lillian both offered the aid of scouts. They would have their associates scout the last place the wizard was seen and search of clues. Beathas would call to her sister, Cassa Moore, and Lillian would find the aid of a woman named Zoemi. Gregory agrees and the two set out to recruit their respective person. An hour later, Gregory is met with a shadowy figure stalking him in the meeting room. Feeling the air of unease, he reached for his weapon. Before he could place his hand on the hilt, Zoemi makes herself known and greets the man as the “scout” Lillian had sent. An aura of unholy energy pulsed from the woman, some kind of maliciousness in her form. Gregory chose to ignore the feeling as Cassa made her way into the room.

With the two gathered, Gregory explained the situation and their mission. Zoemi, being a curious sort, decides to ask question about Lillian and her late husband. Gregory explains that Stephenn had died on the shores of Westfall a year ago. This information struck Zoemi as she reacted in a way that led Gregory to believe she knew something. However, try as he would, the rogue remained silent on the matter. This would bring an air of suspicion to the mixing auras.

The conversation continued as the two women got to know each other. Zoemi was very open about herself when it came to her occupation. She spoke of a group called the Riders of Pestilence and of their Leader a Death Knight known simply as “The Prime”. She regaled them with hints of a man named Rhett Verran and how the Riders related to him. Though she gave information, most of it was vague and hard to interpret in any logical way. What she did say that caught the attention of Gregory was that it was perhaps possible that the Death Knight that leads her group is the one who killed Stephenn. This information, true or not, has given Gregory enough reason to do research on the group. He would start first with the common name, one that everyone seemed to know. He would search for information on Rhett Verran.

The scouts set out on their mission the next day, and they would come back with letters, lists, blue prints and other assorted items that could be useful or scrap. With their job done, the women took their leave. Zoemi, who had by this point asked to be called by another name, Subtlety, paused and asked a curious question. She asked Gregory if Stephenn, the former commander of the Sapphire Crusade, had any special abilities. After answering in the affirmative, the woman vanished.

Stress would swell in Gregory at this new development. However, his mind came to ease when his master walked into the room. The two sat and Gregory updated her on the happenings. How the crusade was struggling for funds, how the wizard was still no closer to justice than he was in the beginning of this campaign, the potential disbanding of the Sapphire Crusade and the information of a potential perpetrator in the murder of Stephenn Anzel. Though she had not much to say on the wizard and her stomach turned from the idea of finding Stephenn’s killer, she was able to offer comfort in the form of economic relief. Captain Jeca Kanters offered her air ship, the Couldbuster, to Gregory as a new base of operations and some of her families cultivated food stock as rations, free of charge. This offer would be a welcome one as it would aid in keeping the Crusade alive.

Gregory could not find the words to thank his master for her kindness. He felt she was a miracle of the Light sent to aid him in his hour of greatest need. After a few hours of conversing, Jeca took her leave. Gregory promptly went to write a letter to Grifyn about the new developments, hoping he would understand the circumstance.

Mentioned: @lillian-aherys @rider-of-slaughter @capjec @jaylhe @beathas-starflare @cassamoore 

[jaylhe]

     Sunlight streamed cheerfully past the glazed window of the Greywood’s front parlour, filtered through motes of dust which drifted lazily in the air. Absurd, for it to be so bright in the winter.  Jaylhe frowned at her breakfast, breaking the flakey crescent apart and scattering bits across her plate.  She wasn’t used to the weather in Dalaran anymore; when the city had sat over Northrend, it could be tolerably relied upon to be grey and chilly.  Now perched high above the Broken Isles, everything was different.  Light slanted in at odd angles in ways she didn’t expect, subtly changing the familiar home.

     There was a soft crinkle of paper across from her; the only sound to disrupt an unbearably still and silent morning.  Killian languished with one leg propped up on the cushions of a plush blue settee, browsing through a copy of the Royal Courier.  He hadn’t yet dressed for the day, still snug in his silk housecoat, and yet managed to look like he was ready to launch into town.  His pale hair was only slightly ruffled by sleep, little enough that it could have been intentional.  A roguish dishevelment for fashion. His sister envied him, tugging at her curls.  She didn’t look forward to taming them for the day.

     Jaylhe must have sighed, or made some other sound to voice her displeasure.  Killian flipped down the corner of his paper, peering at her with one lifted eyebrow.  She couldn’t see past his nose, but imagined he was frowning.

     “Something amiss, poppet?” His silvery gaze flickered from her face to the pastry she was mangling.  “Those are expensive you know.  And I haven’t seen any recent commissions in your correspondence.”  He dropped the newspaper to his lap, and suddenly all his attention was upon her.  She winced internally, bored expression closing.

     “It can’t be that the ‘Tor has no work.  There’s no shortage of missions being sent down below, and I know they need enchantments.  So where have your efforts been going, I wonder?  Or have you simply decided you don’t feel like working?”  

     A flash of guilt followed the accusation.  Jaylhe had been working… but not in a way that contributed to the household.  “It’s not like that,” she huffed, unable to keep her eyes on him when he stared.  “Anyway, there should be money left in the accounts, I haven’t taken much for materials since my last commissions were sent out.  That was barely more than a month ago.”

     “Three months,” Killian corrected.  “And that might have been enough - might have - but there have been… supply withdrawals.”  His mouth twisted briefly on that pronouncement, betraying his mood, and Jaylhe could guess where the money had gone.  Their parents had taken funds for their research efforts, then scattered to the winds. She wondered what they’d spent their own salary on, for it certainly hadn’t taken a sojourn in the Greywood family balance.

     “Did you speak to them…?”

     “Briefly.  A letter.”  Killian took up a mug of coffee from the table, steam still curling from the rim.  “They haven’t been in town since flight was established to the Suramar border.  They did wish us a happy Winter’s Veil.”

     “Ah.”  A surprise, and Jaylhe was a bit stung not to have seen it; but then, did she really have an interest in such a letter?  She assured herself that she didn’t.  The matter of their accounts was more of a concern.  The enchantress pulled a hand through her hair, puffing out an irritated breath.  “I mean… I’ve been busy.  But I’m sure I can fit the work in, if we need it.”

     “Pity you lacked the motivation over the holidays. They’re usually the best time to sell your beauty bobbles to the Noble crowd.  Such a revenue might have sustained us over the next few months, and you’d have plenty of time to be ‘busy’.”

     She collapsed a little further into her own chair, sinking against the pillows with the futile hope of blending in.  He was right of course.  Most years, she would have built up a tidy stockpile of jewelry, combs and other trinkets with useful cantrips sealed into them, offerings for the Winter’s Veil husband seeking a fabulous gift.  The money was good; she rarely had items left by the end of the season.  Her prices were on the high side of fair, but her designs were well received.  She’d simply given no thought to it as the month approached; in fact, she could hardly believe it was over.  Jaylhe had been having fun… to the detriment of family affairs.

     Killian’s expression abruptly shifted, and he leaned towards her, to compensate for her retreat.  Lips pulling in a sly smile, he took a long drink of his coffee before speaking. “Never fear, dearest, for as usual, your brother has a plan.  I do require your help for it.  If you have the time, that is.”

     “I have the time,” she leapt to reply, relaxing her shoulders back when he lost some of his intensity and offered redemption.  “Well I… the time can be made.”

     “Good.  I need one of your keys.”

     He dropped back into a lounge as swiftly as he’d moved forward, picking up the Courier once more.  As he scanned the page with apparent interest, one might almost be fooled into thinking that was that, but Killian Greywood was paying attention, waiting for her to agree. She knew better than to believe he’d let it go without confirmation.

     “A skeleton key?  What under the Light do you need that for?”

     “It will help me get what we need, poppet, and isn’t that what’s important?  Don’t worry much about it, you know I wouldn’t do anything that could get us into trouble.  I wouldn’t let that happen.”  Killian was supremely confident, and smiled at her with such warmth that she drew a little nearer, rising up from her cushions.  

     “Only you can do this for me, I know I can trust your magic.  Just the one key, and it needs to stand up to resistance… but once it’s taken the shape of the lock, it has to melt away within fifteen minutes.  It will be easy for you.  You’re brilliant.”

     He was pandering to her, but as usual it was working.  Her brother had continually supported her experiments with cryomancy; he’d been about the only one, as little as they saw their parents. It had always been the two of them, managing for themselves. For that reason alone, she knew she’d do as he asked. When he smiled and told her he trusted her, her defenses fell like sandcastle walls in the tide.

     “You’re not doing anything dangerous are you?”

     “Dangerous? Me?” Incredulity reigned across his features, artfully rendered. “You know I’m not the type. I must stick around to care for my dear sister after all. Now eat your breakfast and try not to look so dreary. It’s a lovely day. I say we head out and walk in the sun. We’ll get some shopping done; replenish your materials.”

     That was decided, and he returned to his reading, with the clear expectation that she would do as he asked. Jaylhe shook her head, falling against the back of her chair to plan her spell. It would seem she was destined for her workshop by tomorrow at the latest.