Legend of Ransera

Frost 83, 124

The Sentinels in his entourage had scouted out the city and its environs since his work in Drathera began over a season ago. That made it easy for one of them to open a portal close to where Innogen had indicated. As much as he had wanted to stretch his legs, the truncated walk was probably for the best. It was much more tolerable in the winter, but it was still humid and thunderstorms were wont to roll through.

Karmordi was nervous, and so Finn had brought his lute. He played it, something light and calm to soothe the berserker's nerves. He might even have cheated a little and soothed them with a deft caress of Mesmer. Finn didn't like to make people feel anything, nor rob them of their feelings, but he could soothe the nerves so Karmordi might do better in his test. Finn didn't know if going berserk would help him in this.

So the sight of Innogen trying to meditate while her eldritch puss hacked up whatever hadn't gone down right was met by foreign man and local ork walking side by side. A ways back were a black-clad Sentinel and his thrall, the prince Arkænyn. Finn figured the elf would do better watching from afar and socializing with a Sentinel; he hadn't been the most diplomatic of regents in his time, after all. In any case, they wouldn't interrupt him unless someone attacked him or he beckoned them near. Even Arkænyn was disciplined here.

The music of his lute softened and disappeared as Finn held a finger to his lips and pointed to Innogen so Karmordi knew to be quiet. They weren't sneaking, but they weren't trying to be Kitty either.

Finn stopped at a respectful distance; Karmordi took a few more steps, realized he had stopped, and came back. Finn smiled. Best let her meditate until she was ready.

Karmordi motioned to her and then to himself, trying to mouth words in Ecitharese that didn't quite translate to Finn, who was still learning, but he understood the intent. He shrugged dubiously and then made what he hoped was a universal gesture for go ahead and meditate until she acknowledges you; maybe that's part of the test.

Finn, a consummate showman, knew that Imogen had been taking a nap in the sun much as her feline companion might when he grew bored. But she was trying to impart some wisdom on his young friend, and so he didn't comment upon it. Instead, he stood apart, listening, observing, but not interrupting.

It occurred to him then that an opportunity might arise whereby he could subdue a Primal. He saw no reason to kill a creature that was created by the Aedrin to keep nature in balance, but Ecith was already out of balance. Perhaps he could claim some local repute, at least, if not leadership of a village. At least this event would give him some experience to gauge whether that was a possible route to take. It wasn't even a fully calculated move; he would protect people from danger if at all possible anyway. He had grown strong so he could protect the weak, so he would not be one of the weak, one of the victims, ever again.

He also considered the nature of bravery for a berserker. Karmordi had skill at arms, to be sure, but only became a real terror when he lost his mind to it all. Now, in his right mind, he had to decide whether he was brave enough—or foolish enough—to proceed. His fear could be fed to his blind rage. Whether that made him brave or not brave, Finn wasn't certain.

But he liked Karmordi and so, he stepped in to act as a second. It might have scandalized a Solunarian, but he took those things Karmordi didn't want to lose and held them for him.

"May your rage be a match for a Primal," he said, his smile encouraging.

Karmordi paused, smiled back—all teeth and tusks.

"Witness me, Finn." Then, to the Witch, "Witness me, Innogen."

Then, stripped down to a loincloth—probably only there to protect the innocent eyes of the Solunarians there present—and his axes, he returned to the road.

Once Karmordi was on his way, Finn quietly held his things and observed.

Not wishing to interrupt, he merely watched attentively and listened to every word she uttered. With an eidetic memory, he laid the lines of her song-spell in his mind where he could pore over them in future. Incantations, he had been taught, were largely used to focus the mind of the magus. There were instances were words mattered, such as in contracts with spirits, but even if all of it was mere theatrics, he did appreciate a good show.

Unsure whether this was all glamour or real, he prudently put more and more distance between himself and the epicenter of the violence, which was not the berserker or the summoned hellscape, but rather the witch herself. He had done a little digging, and it turned out that some people believed Innogen was, in fact, from Zaichaer originally. The Zaichaeri were the people he knew who most commonly used the term 'witch,' though it had been whispered about his grandmother in his small village that fell with in the territories claimed by Kalzasi and its wing lords.

Curious. He didn't know how much time he would have to get to know her if she was soon to leave, but she was strange and he was a lover of strange things.

He should have brought an aura glass to see what was happening in the world invisible about him, but alas, he had not thought to do so. He glanced back to where his guards were waiting. They were still as any statue, alert, Sentinels on the rise that overlooked this lower field. If they sensed an immediate threat to him, they would be pelting toward him, no doubt. He had tried to complement his own skills with the skills of his entourage when choosing them for this diplomatic mission. They could see.

But he could hear.

The music of the meadow and perhaps something else was discordant and wrong. He didn't know how to articulate it in the moment, but perhaps he would later.

She taunted Karmordi into action, and all Finn could do was whisper a prayer to Aværys to bless the man's Ambitions.

Finn was beginning to think he needed to ask his mother-in-law to initiate him in Semblance. He was Phædryn-Sol'Aværys by marriage, and it was their keystone Rune. As a Sentinel, he had relied upon other Sentinels; their teams were always complementary. As a Sentinel performing diplomatic duties, however, it seemed important that he be able to sense how the aether was flowing. As it was, he heard the song of iron dying. He felt how Innogen's spell was affecting the slipspace. He could intuit a few things from that, but it was not the same as sensing aether—all aether—directly.

He would have to put that in his next report.

Mindful first of his own safety as he had duties to fulfill in Ecith, he was also as mindful as possible about what else was going on around him.

Malgar's suffering; he had thoughts about that philosophically, and normally he wouldn't intrude upon what felt like an almost religious experience for Karmordi, but he was here almost as the ork's second. The least he could do was provide moral support, and Finn could provide magical moral support.

His melody thrummed through the aether between him and Karmordi. Finn did not often use the Rune in the sense that Solunarians did; he did not often Command. He suggested. He let Karmordi know that Finn was here. Finn was watching. He was not alone in this.

When he sang to accompany the magic, it started soft and even by the end, it wasn't terribly loud. It was entirely possible neither ork heard him over the splitting of stone and blistering of lava.

"Do you hear the people sing,
Singing the song of angry men?
It is the music of a people
Who will not be slaves again.

When the beating of your heart
Echoes the beating of the drums,
There is a life about to start
When tomorrow comes."

Finn didn't know if Innogen would kill or allow Karmordi to push himself to death's door with this trial. The Orkhan were proud, and did not shy away from death or violence.

The decision was Karmordi's to make. Her spell was pulling him apart and perhaps there was no amount of willpower that could allow him to win and to survive. Finn just tried to keep him clear-headed through the pain, the better able to maintain his agency and make his decisions, even if that decision was to die in the attempt to prove himself to the Ancient Witch.

It was, perhaps, foolish—both of Karmordi to attempt and of Finn to support—but it was inspiring. No doubt Karmordi would be asking Finn for his song of glory when he could manage words.

The bard let Innogen handle the fallen ork, but remained attentive. It became clear that he would be responsible for getting his friend medical attention, and that would be easy enough for the Farstrider. It only remained to be seen whether he ought to do so now, or wait until Innogen had said her piece.

While her admonition gave him pause, he then smiled, delighted.

"You know it. A song that perhaps ought not to be sung in the realm of the Lady of Chains," he admitted.

As for what he had done for Karmordi, he glanced at his unconscious sparring partner.

"I have faced down powers greater than myself," he said quietly. "They can make you feel alone, but I do not believe that we are alone." Looking up at her, "I did not Command, I merely reminded him that he was not alone. It helps when we have someone to fight for."

Finn paused, considering her. While his mesmeric 'ear' was usually open to whatever thoughts and feelings people were projecting into common space, he was less likely to delve into the intricacies of someone's symphony without cause and need. Also, given that Innogen was known as the Great and Ancient Witch, that might be considered rude. Still and all, he had his intuition.

Head canted slightly to the side, he pursed his lips slightly for a moment.

Then, "You have someone you fight for, I think. Not just yourself. Not just the shadowy panther, although he is adorable."

But he didn't press her to answer. He also didn't know if Karmordi had someone special; it just hadn't come up when they were screaming at each other, attempting to kill each other, or having a drink afterward. Perhaps if he didn't, though, this experience might make him start thinking about the 'who for' and the 'why' along his path to glorious triumph.