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The call for war...
So this was this was in September. Ishin received a 'vision' of sorts. Familiar voice chatting at him, telling him to prepare the Syssin for war... Etc....
(Syssin): You say, "All who wish to gather for the Black Hand's words report to the training courtyard in the Guildhall, coordinates 35616 once you have entered."
[ People arrive. Present: ...A lot of Syssin. ]
Faerah's right eyebrow ticks upward as she inclines her head at the gathered. "Do we have everyone?" the redhead asks, her hands folding behind her back.
[ Pause. Some nods. ]
"It does appear as such," Faerah says, her gaze shifting to Ishin with a curt nod. "The floor is yours, Black Hand."
Returning your nod, Ishin shifts his posture slightly to face the assembled Syssin. "I trust all of you read the recent news from myself and the General, yes?"
[ Some nods. ]
Rhoyen leans her weight against a snowy tundral wolf, who is almost as tall as her as her attentions shifts to Ishin.
Ishin Cardinalis says, "Good, good."
Inkh clasps his hands together at the small of his back, shifting unconsciously to stand at ease.
Faerah takes the moment to fish a plain, black matte box from her kitbag, holding the container within both hands before her gaze settles attentively on Ishin.
Rolling his shoulders slightly, Ishin says, "My post may have come off a little...doom and gloom. Apologies for that, but I'm more used to leading soldiers and the like, hmm?" His blue eyes sweep back and forth across you all, before a small smile touches his lips. "But I wouldn't worry too much about the details. All each of you can do is your best, and me, the General, and the other Lieutenants will be here to help lead us through it."
Ishin uncrosses his arms and lifts a hand to point at Olethea. "We'll have Olethea for when a hunter's touch is required, and myself and Jensen," he says, pausing to shift his gesture to Jensen. "For plotting and working out tactics for killing people." His hand drops, before he rests both on his hips. "And of course the General for overall leadership. She's good, we're good, and I hope the whole lot of you can rest assured that we'll all be doing our best to kick some ass. With us doing that, and you all doing your own best...there's just nothing more that can be asked of us."
Vess seems to think for a moment before nodding slowly at Ishin.
Olethea's face slowly splits into a toothy grin. "It'll be a delight to spill a bit of blood for everybody..."
Aryanne nods curtly, a slight furrow growing at her brow as she listens carefully.
Sollace bares her teeth in a feral grin.
Lhee says, "You pronounced 'all the blood' wrong."
Jensen picks a grey piece of meat from between his teeth and flicks it on the floor.
Lhee smirks.
Olethea snickers under her breath.
Ivae says to Ishin Cardinalis, "I think I am inclined to disagree with you."
Rhoyen's arm curls around her wolf comfortably, face neutral as she listens.
Ivae says to Ishin Cardinalis, "I don't think we can DO enough. If this was asked of us by our lord then our best simply will not do."
Lhee raises an eyebrow at Ivae.
Inkh raises an eyebrow at Ivae.
Aryanne snort with a light derision at Ivae's statement.
Ishin's gazes sweeps from one of you to the next, lingering briefly on each Syssin - giving Ivae a particularly hard look. "Make no mistake. We will all be busting our asses to assure victory, or damn near close to it as we can get. Anything less from any of you won't be tolerated. Keep that in mind as war draws near. If you need help with fighting, come see me or Jensen. If you need advice on hunting, see Olethea. When the shit hits the proverbial fan, and you've been slacking..." His shoulders roll in a small shrug. "I'll bust your ass myself."
Ivae says, "That one I agree with."
With a creeping smile, Inkh says to Ivae, "Mind that fatalistic prophecies tend to be self-fulfilling."
"Severn," begins Jensen before correcting himself. "Lord Severn stated that we 'n we alone were suited to tha task. Do ya not believe Him?"
Ivae says, "What my last statement was intended to mean was that we should put more than all we have into this. This is what we were called for in our creation. As Syssin history has proclaimed, this is our task."
Lhee says, "Can't give more than you have. If your best isn't good enough, get better. Simple."
Trask Dufrane says, "Or get out."
Ivae says, "Exactly. Never settle."
"I believe the Black Hand is still speaking," Faerah sharply says, her hands pinching lightly at the bridge of her nose.
Aryanne catches her hands at the small of her back as her gaze falls back to Ishin with rapt attention.
Sollace grins at Faerah.
Ishin's eyes settle on Ivae, and red begins to seep from the few striations it inhabits to those next to it, slowly beginning to change the color of his eyes. "If you're 'giving everything', and yet somehow you dig deeper and find more to give...then you weren't giving everything to begin with," he says, his usually smooth voice soft, hard, and sharp. One hand comes up, index finger pointedly following his gaze as it sweeps over the lot of you again as he speaks in a louder voice. "When it's time to work, I look forward to seeing just what each and every one of you are capable of at your deepest depths and most extreme of efforts."
Vess nods her head at Ishin, showing her acceptance.
Sollace leans back on the wall as she brushes her hand against the red in her hair.
Ishin turns, facing Faerah. "That's all I have to say, General."
Faerah's right hand lightly trails along the surface of a plain, black matte box thoughtfully, before her head nods at Ishin. "Many of you know about the foundation of the Erebai, some of you may not. In short, it is a combat clan that is headed by the Black Hand. Within it, there is a path for those who wish to hone their skills to follow."
Vess tilts her head and listens intently to Faerah.
"Those who follow the path will find themselves rewarded. Those who excel and complete it, will be known as a member of what is to be our elite group of warriors." Faerah says, her words flowing purposefully from her lips as her hand lifts the box's lid slowly. "It is not designed to be an easy path, but it is one that will teach any of you who are willing to be competent. How much effort you put to be anything past competency will be based on your own personal character."
Faerah opens a plain, black matte box.
[ Perfectly square and rather plain in design, this moderately sized box is made of smooth ebony wood that has been sanded down to a matte finish. It has no hinges or clasps to keep it closed, and instead fits perfectly together with hidden grooves that allows the lid to sink into place securely. Nearly blending in, but visible upon closer inspection, one can see the distinct coiled figure of a death adder in glossy black on top, fangs bared as if posed to strike.
It has 139 months of usefulness left.
It weighs about 15 pound(s).
It bears the distinctive mark of Faerah Tenor.
A plain, black matte box is holding:
"armband76595" a ribbed serpentine armband
It is holding 1 objects. ]
Faerah turns a plain, black matte box upside down and give it a shake, emptying its contents into her hands.
A ribbed serpentine armband falls into Faerah's hands.
"This armband will be awarded to whomever can call themselves a member of the Erebai." Faerah says, lifting a ribbed serpentine armband for all of the gathered to examine.
Faerah displays a ribbed serpentine armband for all in the room to see.
[ Crafted from the vertebrae and ribs of a venomous death adder, this armband has been stained pitch black with a matte finish. Each skeletal link has been painstakingly threaded onto sturdy, black iron wiring that is designed to pull the piece tautly against the flesh of a muscled upper arm and curl mercilessly into its wearer's flesh. The flat surface of the center vertebrae faces outward and is etched with a series of markings that have been stained with what appears to be the blood of a slain foe. Depicted ensnared within a menacing serpentine maw, symbols representing the enemies of the Syssin Guild are found. ]
Vess emits a sudden and excited, "Ooh!"
Aryanne's brows loft slightly with an intended appearance of interest.
"I bestow it now upon our Black Hand." Faerah closes the distance between herself and Ishin, her gaze tilting upward into his as she places a ribbed serpentine armband within his grasp. Closing his hand around it, she steps away and gives him a respectful salute. "May he lead us to victory."
Sollace nods her head emphatically.
Sliding his right arm into a ribbed serpentine armband, Ishin tugs its black iron wire tautly around his bicep and tricep, the death adder's skeletal ribs breaking skin as blood begins to trickle down his flesh.
Ishin turns, lifting his right arm to show off the armband, paying no heed to the blood soaking into his shirt - only a look of fierce pride reflected in his gaze as he looks from one Syssin to another.
A cloaked figure gives a short, respectful nod.
Inkh tilts his head to one side, ponderously.
Faerah nods her head, her hands clasping in front of her with a loud 'clap.' "Well then," the redhead begins, "...while we are all gathered, I am happy to take questions."
Ishin flashes Faerah a wide grin, arm lowering. The red begins to slowly creep back in, his eyes once again mostly a bright, sapphire blue. "As am I."
[A lot of questions, etc. etc.]
(Syssin): You say, "All who wish to gather for the Black Hand's words report to the training courtyard in the Guildhall, coordinates 35616 once you have entered."
[ People arrive. Present: ...A lot of Syssin. ]
Faerah's right eyebrow ticks upward as she inclines her head at the gathered. "Do we have everyone?" the redhead asks, her hands folding behind her back.
[ Pause. Some nods. ]
"It does appear as such," Faerah says, her gaze shifting to Ishin with a curt nod. "The floor is yours, Black Hand."
Returning your nod, Ishin shifts his posture slightly to face the assembled Syssin. "I trust all of you read the recent news from myself and the General, yes?"
[ Some nods. ]
Rhoyen leans her weight against a snowy tundral wolf, who is almost as tall as her as her attentions shifts to Ishin.
Ishin Cardinalis says, "Good, good."
Inkh clasps his hands together at the small of his back, shifting unconsciously to stand at ease.
Faerah takes the moment to fish a plain, black matte box from her kitbag, holding the container within both hands before her gaze settles attentively on Ishin.
Rolling his shoulders slightly, Ishin says, "My post may have come off a little...doom and gloom. Apologies for that, but I'm more used to leading soldiers and the like, hmm?" His blue eyes sweep back and forth across you all, before a small smile touches his lips. "But I wouldn't worry too much about the details. All each of you can do is your best, and me, the General, and the other Lieutenants will be here to help lead us through it."
Ishin uncrosses his arms and lifts a hand to point at Olethea. "We'll have Olethea for when a hunter's touch is required, and myself and Jensen," he says, pausing to shift his gesture to Jensen. "For plotting and working out tactics for killing people." His hand drops, before he rests both on his hips. "And of course the General for overall leadership. She's good, we're good, and I hope the whole lot of you can rest assured that we'll all be doing our best to kick some ass. With us doing that, and you all doing your own best...there's just nothing more that can be asked of us."
Vess seems to think for a moment before nodding slowly at Ishin.
Olethea's face slowly splits into a toothy grin. "It'll be a delight to spill a bit of blood for everybody..."
Aryanne nods curtly, a slight furrow growing at her brow as she listens carefully.
Sollace bares her teeth in a feral grin.
Lhee says, "You pronounced 'all the blood' wrong."
Jensen picks a grey piece of meat from between his teeth and flicks it on the floor.
Lhee smirks.
Olethea snickers under her breath.
Ivae says to Ishin Cardinalis, "I think I am inclined to disagree with you."
Rhoyen's arm curls around her wolf comfortably, face neutral as she listens.
Ivae says to Ishin Cardinalis, "I don't think we can DO enough. If this was asked of us by our lord then our best simply will not do."
Lhee raises an eyebrow at Ivae.
Inkh raises an eyebrow at Ivae.
Aryanne snort with a light derision at Ivae's statement.
Ishin's gazes sweeps from one of you to the next, lingering briefly on each Syssin - giving Ivae a particularly hard look. "Make no mistake. We will all be busting our asses to assure victory, or damn near close to it as we can get. Anything less from any of you won't be tolerated. Keep that in mind as war draws near. If you need help with fighting, come see me or Jensen. If you need advice on hunting, see Olethea. When the shit hits the proverbial fan, and you've been slacking..." His shoulders roll in a small shrug. "I'll bust your ass myself."
Ivae says, "That one I agree with."
With a creeping smile, Inkh says to Ivae, "Mind that fatalistic prophecies tend to be self-fulfilling."
"Severn," begins Jensen before correcting himself. "Lord Severn stated that we 'n we alone were suited to tha task. Do ya not believe Him?"
Ivae says, "What my last statement was intended to mean was that we should put more than all we have into this. This is what we were called for in our creation. As Syssin history has proclaimed, this is our task."
Lhee says, "Can't give more than you have. If your best isn't good enough, get better. Simple."
Trask Dufrane says, "Or get out."
Ivae says, "Exactly. Never settle."
"I believe the Black Hand is still speaking," Faerah sharply says, her hands pinching lightly at the bridge of her nose.
Aryanne catches her hands at the small of her back as her gaze falls back to Ishin with rapt attention.
Sollace grins at Faerah.
Ishin's eyes settle on Ivae, and red begins to seep from the few striations it inhabits to those next to it, slowly beginning to change the color of his eyes. "If you're 'giving everything', and yet somehow you dig deeper and find more to give...then you weren't giving everything to begin with," he says, his usually smooth voice soft, hard, and sharp. One hand comes up, index finger pointedly following his gaze as it sweeps over the lot of you again as he speaks in a louder voice. "When it's time to work, I look forward to seeing just what each and every one of you are capable of at your deepest depths and most extreme of efforts."
Vess nods her head at Ishin, showing her acceptance.
Sollace leans back on the wall as she brushes her hand against the red in her hair.
Ishin turns, facing Faerah. "That's all I have to say, General."
Faerah's right hand lightly trails along the surface of a plain, black matte box thoughtfully, before her head nods at Ishin. "Many of you know about the foundation of the Erebai, some of you may not. In short, it is a combat clan that is headed by the Black Hand. Within it, there is a path for those who wish to hone their skills to follow."
Vess tilts her head and listens intently to Faerah.
"Those who follow the path will find themselves rewarded. Those who excel and complete it, will be known as a member of what is to be our elite group of warriors." Faerah says, her words flowing purposefully from her lips as her hand lifts the box's lid slowly. "It is not designed to be an easy path, but it is one that will teach any of you who are willing to be competent. How much effort you put to be anything past competency will be based on your own personal character."
Faerah opens a plain, black matte box.
[ Perfectly square and rather plain in design, this moderately sized box is made of smooth ebony wood that has been sanded down to a matte finish. It has no hinges or clasps to keep it closed, and instead fits perfectly together with hidden grooves that allows the lid to sink into place securely. Nearly blending in, but visible upon closer inspection, one can see the distinct coiled figure of a death adder in glossy black on top, fangs bared as if posed to strike.
It has 139 months of usefulness left.
It weighs about 15 pound(s).
It bears the distinctive mark of Faerah Tenor.
A plain, black matte box is holding:
"armband76595" a ribbed serpentine armband
It is holding 1 objects. ]
Faerah turns a plain, black matte box upside down and give it a shake, emptying its contents into her hands.
A ribbed serpentine armband falls into Faerah's hands.
"This armband will be awarded to whomever can call themselves a member of the Erebai." Faerah says, lifting a ribbed serpentine armband for all of the gathered to examine.
Faerah displays a ribbed serpentine armband for all in the room to see.
[ Crafted from the vertebrae and ribs of a venomous death adder, this armband has been stained pitch black with a matte finish. Each skeletal link has been painstakingly threaded onto sturdy, black iron wiring that is designed to pull the piece tautly against the flesh of a muscled upper arm and curl mercilessly into its wearer's flesh. The flat surface of the center vertebrae faces outward and is etched with a series of markings that have been stained with what appears to be the blood of a slain foe. Depicted ensnared within a menacing serpentine maw, symbols representing the enemies of the Syssin Guild are found. ]
Vess emits a sudden and excited, "Ooh!"
Aryanne's brows loft slightly with an intended appearance of interest.
"I bestow it now upon our Black Hand." Faerah closes the distance between herself and Ishin, her gaze tilting upward into his as she places a ribbed serpentine armband within his grasp. Closing his hand around it, she steps away and gives him a respectful salute. "May he lead us to victory."
Sollace nods her head emphatically.
Sliding his right arm into a ribbed serpentine armband, Ishin tugs its black iron wire tautly around his bicep and tricep, the death adder's skeletal ribs breaking skin as blood begins to trickle down his flesh.
Ishin turns, lifting his right arm to show off the armband, paying no heed to the blood soaking into his shirt - only a look of fierce pride reflected in his gaze as he looks from one Syssin to another.
A cloaked figure gives a short, respectful nod.
Inkh tilts his head to one side, ponderously.
Faerah nods her head, her hands clasping in front of her with a loud 'clap.' "Well then," the redhead begins, "...while we are all gathered, I am happy to take questions."
Ishin flashes Faerah a wide grin, arm lowering. The red begins to slowly creep back in, his eyes once again mostly a bright, sapphire blue. "As am I."
[A lot of questions, etc. etc.]
2