#rustarch

[deanmott]

Art is from Pinterest, I can’t find the og artist, in shambles 💔

I was bored, imma rp with dermott now my love,,,

[mhornar]

Mhornar fic - part 2

The view through the crystal windows was awe-inspiring.  The swirling clouds that hid Barak Mhornar from the outside world were an ever-changing artwork. Roiling gaps in the clouds showed the distant greens, golds and blues of the Realm's surface, while scattered amongst the clouds themselves light flickered off of dozens of ships and thousands of flyers working their ways around the skyport.  The great windows illuminated the room within.  Kairn Thiorek, First Captain of his House, filled out paperwork, cramped and tired fingers filling out yet another report. His life spent detailing the adventures that everyone else in the House got to go find beyond those damn windows while he was stuck here.

The door to the study creaked as it opened, “My lord.  You have a visitor.”

Orifun Graysail was the perfect butler, and the real master of House Thiorek.  A graduate of the Academy, he had specialized in diplomacy and politics.  However unlike most, he had no desire to leave Barak Mhornar.  In that way he had more in common with the Duardin of old than the Kharadon after the Tempest.  Instead, for the last century he had managed the affairs of the House, overseen the staff and ensured that the Captains always had a place to return to after a voyage.

“Tell them to go away.  If I'm stuck writing this rusted report I can leave visitors to some other blasted representative!”

“I believe Lord Kusik Felgan is here on a personal matter rather than business sir.” Orifun's voice was oddly strained.

Kairn's head came up and looked over at his old friend, brow furrowed in confusion, “Felgan? By Khorne's left ball, what is that blue-bearded bastard doing here?”

Kairn was shocked to see Orifun's lips twitching in barely suppressed laughter.  “Lord Kusik wouldn't say sir, and of course it wouldn't be my place to speculate. He did insist he would only speak with you.”  The last came out with just a hint of a snort.

Curiosity getting the better of him, Kairn followed Orifun with only a minimum of grumbling.

Felgan had been escorted to one of the smaller negotiating rooms on the first floor, accompanied by his usual security team.  Lovely pastoral artwork dotted the walls, and the soft blue stone had been chosen specifically to help soothe angry visitors.  It was all Kairn could do to not burst into laughter as he entered.

Blue-beard was an old insult that dated to the earliest flyers.  Those dwarves who had taken to the sky and looked down on everyone still living on the ground.  They spent so long in the sky their beards might as well be blue.  It had come to mean one who is too contemptuous of those they considered beneath them.  In the fierce meritocracy of the Kharadon it was an attitude that few tolerated.

Felgan's beard was actually blue.

“Lord Kusik, I won't pretend our dealings are ever a pleasure, but how can I assist House Felgan today?”  Kairn took refuge in formality for the moment.

“You can bring out that tarnished dirtgrubber you brought into Mhornar and discipline her!” Humor disappeared from Kairn in an instant and his tone became steel, “I assume you are referring to my daughter?”

Kusik snarled, and slammed a round medallion onto the conference table, “Aye, that miserable bitch you let run around as if she owns the place.  If you put her in her place the way you should have than I wouldn't have to.” Behind Kusik, his security team had paled and their eyes were starting to dart around a bit.  House Felgan hired the best, but threatening one of the premier Grundstok clans in their own home was not a wise move. Kairn recognized the small medallion of course.  The Gyrefalcon Racing Club had earned a reputation for victory...and for the hell they raised when not racing.  “I'm afraid Cass is at the Academy today Felgan, but those badges are carried by hundreds of young folk around the skyport.  Do you have a reason to want to speak to my daughter about it?” Something in his tone seemed to finally penetrate the other dwarf, “Aye Thiorek.  There's hundreds of these things, but everyone knows when the bastards go wild it's your...daughter...who's at the center of it.” “Aye, I've heard that rumor myself.  I've also heard the same about Gimli Rustarch and Forgan Daevan.  I assume you intend to demand answers from those two as well?” Felgan glared daggers at the mention of the scions of two of the greatest houses in Barak-Mhornar. “I will have satisfaction Thiorek.” “You have a commonly available medallion.  Your accused suspect has been at the Academy all week, as it's exams.  I assure you, had the Truant Wards been triggered, I would have heard about it already.  Do you perhaps have some evidence a dispensation was granted?”

Felgan's face was suffused with rage, but the warriors behind him had awkward expressions.

“Of course you don't. How pray tell do you intend to demand satisfaction under the Code? This is Barak-Mhornar.  In Barak-Thryng perhaps your word alone against one of Cass' lineage would be sufficient to convict her.  In Mhornar though you'd need real evidence, or else your House's fleet would be quite a bit smaller than it is.”  Kairn's face had a broad, menacingly friendly grin, “I'm afraid this is all the time I have for this appointment today.  Good day.” He swept out of the office while Kusik was held back from a frenzied attack by his own men.  It was perhaps Kairn's most satisfying meeting in months.