The Teacher's Complex

[Nenya Evenstar]

A small breeze gently caressed a tall oak tree which stood nearby a richly engraved white door and then passed by the door and on to other business which only it knew. But it left behind a finger of curiosity as to what exactly that engraved door was and as to what exactly the building that door led into was. The building happened to be one of the houses in the Teacher's Complex of Heren Istarion. The complex was circle-shaped and surrounded by a small iron picket fence. A cobblestone road led into the circle and was surrounded by the same type of iron fence. This road went in a circle itself in the middle of the Complex and encircled three buildings: one small, one medium-sized, and one quite large. On the outer rim of the circle street were small separated houses, all different to look at from the outside but each incredibly rich and magnificent in itself. All in all there were twelve houses: six on one side and six on another. Each house had its own garden and green lawn, though each lawn was done in a different manner. These were the houses of the Teachers of Heren Istarion, and each Teacher had a house and a lawn to himself.

The small building in the middle of the Teacher's Complex was situated directly between the other two buildings. With a low peaked roof, it looked curiously inviting and comfortable, which indeed it was. Windows went around its sides in one small row, each window paned with panes of glass. Unlike all the other buildings in the Complex, this building was built of simple wood, though a rich wood imported from the hills of the White Mountains. A cheery brick chimney settled up from the roof of the building and sent smoke out into the clear and sunny day. The entire building contrasted drastically with the other buildings in the circle which were all built out of the same white stone and rich trimmings so prevalent throughout the grounds of Heren Istarion. Even the little circle of houses was dressed with the same engravings and golden trimmings. The white circle was almost proud in its appearance, and yet the little wooden building in its midst contrasted suddenly with this look. This building was the Lounge of the Teachers of Heren Istarion. Here they could come and get good meals when they did not feel like cooking at home or simply to spend time with their fellow Teachers in deep discussion.

On the right side of the little wooden building stood a white stone building. Great arched windows with golden scrolls deep in the paned glass lined both of its long sides, and upon the short end, facing south towards the entering cobblestone street, was a large flight of steps which led up into the building. The door stood beneath a flowering portico with large white columns, and engraved flowers and birds showed pink upon every engraving. Engraved intricately in this same pink was a line under the very roof which surrounded the entire building, light as the sunrise and deeper than the sunset. This was the Hall of Teachers where those noble bodies met for meetings concerning the inner-workings of the Heren Istarion education system and had certain festivities of their own.

On the other side of the little brown building stood a massive white stone structure. Majestic and two-stories high from the ground, it seemed to dominate the entire block with its magnificence. Its windows ranged from arched to circle and from square to rectangle, though all seemed to fit together and go with one accord. The building seemed square, though it was indeed hard to tell, and upon two of its sides, facing west towards the circle of houses and east towards the little brown building, were two doorways. Large stone steps led up to these doors which stood plainly without any adornment or portico above. Upon their faces were engravings of the runes of ancient languages which shone in the moonlight, for indeed their lines were made of the precious Mithril. Though in the daytime the building seemed plain white, at sunrise and sunset, when the Mithril would glimmer faintly, the white walls would flush with a pale blue as though trying to catch the first and last glimpses of the sky far above. This building was the Library and Study Hall for the Teachers of Heren Istarion. Here they could study in its peace and quiet without fear of disturbance.

These three main buildings were separated from each other by expanses of green lawn. A few trees grew upon the greenness and an abundance of flowers, but there were no gardens -- only open grass and a few trees. Everything was open, and shade was under the trees.

This was the Teacher's Complex. Grand and intimidating though it may have looked, the people who lived in its midst were simply of the regular kind. Elf, Man, Dwarf, and Hobbit; each race was made comfortable in his abode should he traverse into that circle and attempt to become one of the great teachers of Heren Istarion.

[Anamatar IV]

The professors of Heren Istarion were gathered in the great lounge of the Teacher's Complex for the opening ceremony. Each was dressed in fair form.

At their head Ingolemo, founder of Heren Istarion, stood. He was covered in glistening mail. He bore a sceptre of intertwining gold and silver. Bound upon his brow was a deep blue jewel.

At Ingolemo's side stood a tall man with fair eyes. He was Anamatar, come from the shore of Amroth. He wore a Mithril hauberk which many marvelled at. A red cape was at his back and a long sword girt around his waist. On the sheath of this sword was written, in glistening letters, Aure Entuluva. In the common tongue this meant Day shall come again. It was a trade mark of the house of Hurin through the years of Numenor to the thousandth year of the fourth age and beyond.

Anamatar nodded at Ingolemo.

"Masters of Heren Istarion!" Ingolemo summoned. "Now comes time when you will go forth! Teach we must! for peopleof this age are ignorant. Your goal as a professor of Heren Istarion is to train students well enough," at this Ingolemo paused and searched the proud faces before him. "for them to take your place when old age creeps upon you, or the sea calls." Ingolemo was finished and he went and conversed with other trainers, Anamatar ever with him.

[Nenya Evenstar]

Nenya smiled as a small amount of pride welled up inside of her. She normally did not like pride, but on an occasion such as this a little bit of pride was acceptable. This was the moment she had been waiting for for what seemed like a very long time even to her elven senses, and she now rejoiced inwardly that her waiting had paid off.

Nenya was sitting in one of the many comfortable chairs offered in the lounge. Around her in circle were the other Teachers, each chatting with each other in a familiar way. Smoothing the wrinkles out of her plain white satin gown, Nenya stood up and made her way over to Ingolemo to congratulate him on his success. After all, this was more his success than anyone else's. Even though each and everyone of the leaders assembled had put his or her own amount of work into the project at hand, Ingolemo was the one who had done the most work and put up with the most trouble in the entire process. Nenya could not stop the smirk that came across her face. Trouble? She knew that she could undoubtedly be called trouble. She knew that it had been her stubborn nature that had given Ingolemo one too many headaches, but she also knew that her stubborness had paid off. Her smirk turned into a smile as she walked up to Ingolemo. "Congratulations, my Lord!" She said still smiling, her heart meaning every word she said. The white swan upon Nenya's forhead blazed with a sudden and soft light and then nestled back to its normal hue and grace.

[Anamatar IV]

Anamatar conversed with all the teachers as he would. None seemed to talk back, though. If only students were as this he thought to himself.

In the meanwhile Ingolemo returned to the Temple of Heren Istarion. He had many things to do before going out to see the teachers again. He had just returned from posting rules in the Dorms and was on to his next task.

Anamatr finished talking and walked down the halls of the complex. He found the room Ingolemo had assigned to him and took a quick sleep before his next class.

[Nenya Evenstar]

Nenya sighed. After her long vacation getting back into the swing of life in Heren Istarion was hard. She had so much to do and so little time. Classes and thoughts of classes loomed up in her head as she sat writing frantically at her desk in her little bedroom. She had much to plan and much to do, and life would not allow her to get away with being lazy. Nenya smiled at that thought and wrote on without stopping. A break would only come when she was finished.

[Nenya Evenstar]

It was Saturday morning. A light and cheery breeze greeted Nenya as she walked out of her house and locked the door behind her. Making her way to the Teacher's Lounge, she hummed quietly to herself an Elvish tune she had learned in ages past. Her tune, however, was disturbed by the unruly rumbling of her stomach.

Upon entering the Lounge, Nenya walked up to the bar and ordered a nice, warm waffle for breakfast with some strawberry tea. Sitting down cozily in a corner near the blazing fire, she commenced to eat her breakfast with relish. She was hopeful that some of the other teachers would get out of their houses today and enjoy the nice weather! Nenya grinned when she realized that she'd rather have them out so that she could discuss the happenings of Heren Istarion with them over an idle cup of tea.

[Wonko The Sane]

A very confused and lost elf named Arianne wandered onto the grounds of the Teacher's Complex, paper in hand. She looked around with a puzzled expression on her face.

"Professor Eventsar? Um...Professor Nenya?" She called out timidly.

[Nenya Evenstar]

A young girl, probably around ten years old, came running down the lawn from the Study Hall. She ran towards the timid elf and stopped just in front of her, twirling a dusty cloth in her hands. "You looking for Professor Nenya?"

Arianne nodded.

The girl's young and rather dirty face broke into a smile. "This way!" she sang out cheerfully. Leading Arianne down the left circle of the road, she waltzed up to a charming little house with blooming rose gardens, gorgeous plants, and a rock pathway. "Here ya go! She should be home!" she said and turned around, running, to finish her chores.

[Wonko The Sane]

Arianne smiled at the beautiful house in front of her noting how perfectly the immaculate garden of blooming flowers represented Professor Nenya's personality.

Arianne pushed her coweled white hood back from her forehead and shook her long, glimmering raven hair free from the cloak. She opened the gate and walked up the gravel path, up the porch steps, and knocked on Nenya's door.

*Rap-Rap-Rap-Rap-Rap*

She could hear the knocks echoing against the wood, and stood on the porch, waiting for the sound of footsteps in the house.

[Nenya Evenstar]

Nenya was sitting at her writing desk, preparing the work for her Healing Class. Suddenly she heard a knocking on her door and stood up immediately to go find out who was approaching her. Whoever it was was her first visitor ever in this complex, and the thought gave her a few little slithering chills that meandered up and down her spine. Things were finally beginning to look up and work in the new system! She smiled.

Walking to the door as quickly as she could, Nenya opened it to see Arianne standing there, her beautiful hair spilling over her shoulders. "Hello!" Nenya greeted. "What can I do for you?"

[Wonko The Sane]

Arianne smiled as the door dilated and Professor Nenya's smiling face greeted her warmly.

"Hello! What can I do for you?" Nenya chimed as Arianne nervously shifted one foot to another.

"I came to turn in my paper. I'm a little nervous. This is my first time inside the Teacher's Complex..."

[Nenya Evenstar]

"Ah . . . I wouldn't worry about it!" Nenya glanced outside for a moment, peering this way and that as though looking for something. "There don't seem to be all that many people around these days! I don't believe many of the teachers spend all that much time here, as a matter of fact. They seem to spend more time in their class rooms than at home. Frankly, I don't know how they manage!" Nenya's face almost turned into a grin. "So you've come to turn in your paper? Want to come in and discuss it over a cup of tea?" She smiled.

[Wonko The Sane]

Arianne smiled gratefully as Nenya invited her in. She could already feel her nervousness easing.

"Yes. Thank you. Tea would be lovely."

[Nenya Evenstar]

Nenya led the way into the kitchen, holding her skirts up so that she didn't trip on them. The room was small with a little brick oven in one corner, a set of four tables and chairs in another, a broom in yet another, and a long wooden table in the last corner. A tea pot whistled cheerfully by the oven, and the table was set with one place setting. Though oddly small, the room seemed spacious and open, with more than enough room to host dozens of people. Nenya's bare feet pattered across the blue floor tiles as she hurried here and there.

"Here, have a seat!" Nenya invited to Arianne as she bustled about the room getting another tea cup, a plate of elvish baked goods, and some honey. "Tell me, how do you like it here at Heren Istarion so far?"

[Nenya Evenstar]

Nenya and Arianne had a wonderful tea together, sipping from porcelain cups and discussing the ways of Heren Istarion. Too soon, however, Nenya stood up and announced, "I'm sorry, I have to cut this short. I have a class to make soon. Thank you so much for stopping by!"

Arianne thanked Nenya, handed her her paper, and the two left the house together to go their own separate ways.


******************

OOC:

Sorry I had to cut this short! It's a new day and I couldn't have us drinking tea all night. ;) Things like this will happen in the first few days of the new timeline . . . that is until everyone gets the feel for how it works. Go ahead and post your paper (or PM, if you want). Thanks a bunch! T'was fun. :p

[Scatha]

Nenya was disturbed by a quick rattle on her door. As she opened the door, the light from within the corridor revealed the figure of Farathorn, who grinned slightly and nodded.

"Quel lome, Nenya. It has come to my ears, that there's a house waiting for me in this complex. Would you be so kind as to show me the way to it?"

[Nenya Evenstar]

"Welcome Farathorn!" Nenya replied in answer, giving him a slight curtsey. "I would be honored." After grabbing the key to her house and stuffing it in her pocket, Nenya departed with Farathorn.

After leaving her little stone path, Nenya turned left and led Farathorn to a comfortable little house. From the front door could be glimpsed, between the teacher's buildings, the entrance into the Teacher's Complex.

"Here you are!" Nenya said producing a new key from her pocket with a grin. "I believe that perhaps you will be one of the only teachers I ever see around here . . . I honestly don't know where the others spend all their time!"


OOC: I've left any description of the house you may want . . . so you can make it personal. ;)

[Scatha]

OOC: Thanks Nenya, real kind of you and considerate. :)

Farathorn accepted the key and slowly walked towards the ironshodded, oaken door. After he inserted the key and turned it, he hesitated to open it. The half elf turned his head towards Nenya, then stated a simple question. "Would you mind terribly to come inside with me and join me for tea? I still need to get adjusted to inside life again, this would make me more at ease."

[Nenya Evenstar]

Nenya smiled and cocked her head to one side. Then with a shake of her head she said, "I would not mind at all! In fact, I would be honored." She followed Farathorn to the door.

[Scatha]

Farathorn opened the door and stepped inside, while he looked around for a lamp or lantern. After finding it, he lit it and the livingroom bathed in a warm golden glow. The white plastered walls reflecting the light, while the hardwooden floor seemed to absorb it.

Calmly he gestured to a comfortable looking chair and asked Nenya to take a seat. The half elf then headed into the kitchen, only to return with tea a little while later. He gave Nenya a cup and retrieved a package from his backpack. After he opened it, he handed Nenya a small biscuit.

"A little lembas never harmed anyone."; he stated with a smile.

[Nenya Evenstar]

Nenya accepted the proffered lembas gratefully. "No," she said in reply, "it sure didn't! Thank you so much!" She took one bite and experienced the usual delight that came along with lembas. "And now," she continued, "you really must sit down! I won't have you running around your new house waiting on me."

"I don' t mind . . . " Farathorn began, but Nenya jumped up and forced him into chair near hers. "So," she began with a mischievous smile, "do you want to talk, or do you want to take a look at the rest of your house?"

[Scatha]

Farathorn bowed his head slightly, then raised it again slowly, his face revealed a slight blush.
"You are quite right, I can always wander around the house, but now I have the opportunity to sit and talk, I should take it."


He leaned back a little in the chair he was placed into and looked at Nenya. "I still get a little nervous, when I am inside, something I have to get used to I imagine?"

[Nenya Evenstar]

Nenya laughed. "Oh! I was actually being half serious with that question. Really, if you want to look at your house we can." She smiled, a little mad at herself for downplaying her host's politeness. "But anyway," she continued after a moment's pause and observing that Farathorn was not going to move, "Nervous? I can't say my experience is with that same feeling, though it has to be somewhat similar. I lived for so long beneath the trees in Lothlorien where everything was so magnificent that even in the rain you wanted to be out with Nature. Those are my fondest memories. But I can't say I'm ever nervous to be inside. With me it's more of a delight to be outside, but then I seem to find delight on the inside, if not as much. Tell me, is it the four walls? The lack of freedom?"

[Wonko The Sane]

OOC: Thanks Nenya. :) I'll PM you. Sorry for the delay. :)

[Scatha]

Farathorn pondered briefly, then replied with a fire in his voice.
"I miss the stars over my head at night, the wind in my back, the clean fresh air of the forest, the warm glow of the campfire and its specific scent, the sounds of the animals.... and in some way even the danger I was used to."

He tilted his head slightly and stared at Nenya.
His voice calmed again, as he asked her a question.
"Do you understand this a little more now? I even rode out one night, when I was still staying in the dorms, just to be outside."

[Nenya Evenstar]

"Yes," Nenya nodded quietly, "I understand. I know that at times, not so much now as in Ages past, but at times I am seized with an uncontrolable longing for things I once new far away. And some of those things I can never see again. They have passed away." Her eyes and face were thoughtful, and each word came out like a whisper. Nenya shook herself and looked up. "But I cannot think of that now. There is far too much for me to do here, now, in this time. But yes, I can understand."

Suddenly, she laughed. "So, if I ever wake up in the middle of the night and see a campfire burning brightly in your backyard, will I know that you are longing to spend a night outdoors with the wild? Or perhaps I'll be woken by the sound of a horse's hooves on the pavement outside?" Her eyes teased, but were partly serious.

[Scatha]

Farathorn grinned at Nenya's reply, then nodded and seemed more at ease with himself. "That may be a calculated risk indeed, mylady. You are however welcome to share this with me, should you wish to."

He proceeded to lean back a little in his chair and nibbled a bit from his lembas, then took a sip of tea to wash it down.

"Anthatal is the name of my horse, which is quite fitting in this case, for it likes to be outdoors at night, just like its owner."

[Nenya Evenstar]

"I may sometime, my Lord," Nenya replied seriously. "I often wander outside at night myself . . . a habit that I do not wish to lose. The Stars of Elbereth call to me always even in the deeps of slumber." She smiled. "I do not have a horse, I'm afraid. I have lost many, and have not had the heart to get a new one after the death of my last great friend. I get very attached to my bearers." Nenya's eyes clouded for a moment.

[Scatha]

The half elf took Nenya's hand and provided her with a simple answer. "The loss of a friend, whether man or beast, is usually a deep loss. By spending the amount of time, like I did, on the road with this creaure, the wound cut deep and remains painful for a long duration of time."

[Nenya Evenstar]

Nenya looked Farathorn deep in the eyes and smiled. His simple words had comforted her more than he could know.

Suddenly, the clock chimed, and Nenya glanced at it hastily. She had to go. Turning her head regretfully towards Farathorn, she said, "I have a class to teach in a few minutes, so I really must go."

It wasn't too long before she said her goodbyes, however regrettfully, and bade Farathorn an enjoyable time looking at his house. She had enjoyed the visit extremely well.

OOC: Grrr . . . new Heren Istarion day. :D

[Aulë]

Chokang came walking up to the Teacher's Complex Lounge with a gruff look on his face.
"Fancy being disciplined for killing a few measley squirrels!" he grumbled to himself before knocking on the wooden door.

[Anamatar IV]

Just as Chokang knocked Ingolemo loomed above him in the opening of the door.

"Ah you're here for punishment, yes?" He asked cheerfully. "Well Nenya, being the ever secretive person he is," at this he grunted loudly. "She has yet to tell me what you've done. So come inside and tell me what you did!"

[Aulë]

Chokang followed Ingolemo into the spacious teacher's lounge, and sat down on a rather comfy looking sofa.
"I didn't really cause that much trouble," he muttered, "I just killed a few squirrels. How was I suppost to know that Kilease had an obsession with them?"

[Anamatar IV]

Ingolemo stoked his chin and looked at the Dwarf. He looked at the him trying to climb up the couch huge compared to him and when he finally sat back his feet barely went over the edge. Ingolemo suddenly burst out laughing.

"Hehe you must excuse me," he said with his eyes watering. "I find Dwarves extremely funny for their short stature. So you killed a few squirrels? Hmmm well I thought it was a lot worse than that. I would have had you wash the campus' clothes." At this Ingolemo shuddered. "But since it's only a few squirrels and since Kilease is overly-obsessive about woodland animals that are small to us erm uh meaning small to me and large to her uh meaning her and you I will give you less of a punishment: Stable Duty for 3 days." At this Ingolemo gave Chokang leather gloves and a shovel. "Have fun!"

[Aulë]

"Stable duties?" Chokang exclaimed in shock, "You have got to be kidding me! Stable duties for killing a few lousy squirrels! I was doing this place a favour in getting rid of the pests!"
The dwarf lept out of his chair, and glared evily towards Ingolemo.
"I am the heir to the Lord of Belegost!" he roared, "And I shall not be reduced to such slavery!"
Chokang then pulled out his war axe, and snarled at the teacher. Drool ran down his chin, and his eyes were filled with fire, staring deeply into Ingolemo's soul.
"I strongly urge you to reconsider your decision!" he threatened, "Or Heren Istarion may find themselves yet another enemy in the looming war!"

[Anamatar IV]

Ingolemo grunted at the Dwarf. He tore the axe away from the student and grunted again.

"Heren Istarion is very well protected, thank you," said he. "Any legion of Dwarves you could muster would be slaughtered by the soldiers of Arnor well before you reached us. Now go to your stables!" Anger balanced on his voice and his lip twitched slowly. The Dwarf could do no more than fear.

[Snaga]

At that moment, a young dwarf, his beard short and blond knocked boldly on the door and entered bowing.

'Forgive my entrusion, noble Lords!' he bowed low, smiling brightly. 'I am Narvi son of Frar, I come hither from Belegost on a matter of urgency.'

He paused, his smile vanishing into a troubled look. 'Lord Chokang. It is my sad responsibility to tell you that... that your father, your father's body has been recovered. He is dead, alas. I have no news of how his death has come to pass. But I have here for you the Great Helm of Azaghal, that is given to the lord of the Great Fortress.'

He knelt before Chokang, and presented the helm to him. It was ancient and with a grim visage to its mask, and charred still from the fiery breath of Glaurung, from the ancient days of the world.

'Hail, Chokang, Lord of Belegost.'

[Aulë]

Chokang's face became a pale white, and he fell to his knees, tearing at his beard, the helm tightly within his grasp.

"Why.....Who....How?" he cried, barely able to place a sentance together. He looked up to see Ingolemo, who didn't seem to know how to react to such news.

Suddenly, the Dwarf flew in a fit of rage and lunged at Ingolemo, who still grasped Chokang's axe. After pushing the stunned Human aside, Chokang hoisted his axe into the air, and slammed it down into a nearby table.

"You have made a grievous error, Ingolemo Lord of Heren Istarion!" he roared, his face going red, and his eyes becoming dark, "Mark my words, I vow on Durin and Aulë's names that I shall do everything possible in my power to crush Heren Istarion to the ground!"

Chokang glared deep into Ingolemo's eyes, who were also now burning with rage.

"You may say that a band of Dwarves cannot destroy Heren Istarion, but let me assure you that Mornclaur's forces are more than a match for the so-called might of Arnor!" he added, with a devilish grin appearing in his face, "So let it be known that by your decision, and yours alone, that the Dwarves of Belegost have alligned themselves to the Dark Legion! May you remember this moment whilst Heren Istarion burns!"

[Anamatar IV]

Ingolemo sprang to his feet throwing the Dwarf to the floor. Ingolemo drew his rapier shining brightly in the midday sun and pointed it at the very throat of the Dwarf.

"Haughty are the Dwarves and moreso their lords!" he yelled. "Heren Istarion shall not fall to Dwarf axe or Orc fire! It would be wise of you to leave before Belegost finds itself lordless once again!" The Dwarf scrambled out from under the point of the blade and darted out the door with Ingolemo screaming after him. "The Golden Star will fly with fear running before them to halls of Belegost before the end!"

[Snaga]

A throwing axe buried itself deep in the door-frame shuddering, just an inch from Ingolemo's head.

'Have a care!' Narvi face was filled with fury. 'That is the Lord of Belegost you menace. Your words are rash indeed if you threaten his life, with his liegeman at your back! Next time I will cut you down like an unwanted sapling.'

With those words he stalked through the door, following Chokang.

[Wonko The Sane]

Arianne stood behind a birch tree outside Ingolemo's house, hearing the commotion within.

"So the Dwarves of Belegost have sworn alleigance to the Dark Legion, and vengence on Heren Istarion."

She bowed her head, her white skirts flowing about her in an unseen wind.

"Let us only hope they don't make me choose."

With that she turned and fled, before the Dwarves or Ingolemo had a chance to spot her.

[Dáin Ironfoot I]

Before the Dwarves could be allowed further, a black shape sprang from the lengthining shadows of the stark white temples. A deathly black spear snaked quickly to the neck of Chokang, and a golden axe was raised towards the other's. Two cold eyes bore down at the Dwarves from the darkness, and a solemn white beard emerged from its hiding. Likewise, the golden axe shifted slightly in the setting sun, casting a glare in the emissiary's eyes. Kilease's grim face was exposed, her brown beard seemingly increased in length and thickness.

"Heren Istarion has made a new enemy this night, and I fear it will bring grief to us all before the end. In your haste Chokang you have sworn upon the names of our sacred creator Mahal and our ancient father Durin whom dwelled in the earth of old. Your rash words will come around and strike you when you least expect it, for there is a new power of Mahal in the land: Dain Ironfoot. His axe contains the flames of Mahal and his hide is filled with the contents of the earth. He does not allow anyone to live who has taken the name of Mahal in vain! Go now from this land, and may you never see it again in this life!" Falim whispered, his voice thick and haste with contempt and anger.

"I fear for you Chokang, and your people. They will fall to our might, and the flames of my husband Dain and all who uphold the law of the Valar. To wage a war on the notion of slave work is faulty. Yet you must do what you have said, for it is as steadfast in Mahal's mind as the iron I walk upon. May His mercy come to you before the end," Kilease said, her face expressionless and voice without emotion.

The two Dwarves let up their weapons, and allowed the others to pass in silence. Chokang's face was clenched in defiance, and his soul was even more determined to retaliate, yet now was not his time to do so.

[Galdor]

Canaleo stepped out of the shadows from behind a tapestry in the lounge. He sheathed the two knives in his hands as he walked up to Ingolemo.

"It seems that we have just gained some deadly enemies. It's a pity that we had to lose Chokang's friendship over the death of a few squirrels. His pride will be his death one day."