Stay

[Bjorn]

"Good morning," Bjorn says, gravely.  "Would you like me to arrange some breakfast to be brought?"

[Brian]

"Yes, please," she says walking to the writing desk and resuming whatever she had started yesterday.  "And some tea," she adds, shaking one of the ink bottles to see how much ink is left.

[Bjorn]

Bjorn shakes his head, unseen by Mirallia.  I might be taking this role a bit too far, he thinks with dark humour.  All of the work with none of the fun.

He tugs on the cord which will summon a servant, and then goes over the door to wait for said servant to show up.

[Brian]

It takes less than a minute before there's a knock at the door.  The servant listens to what you want, then nods, and runs off to fetch it.  It takes a few minutes more before breakfast and tea arrives, but it does, warm, and fresh from the kitchen.

[Bjorn]

"Your breakfast is here, Madame," Bjorn says, as the door closes.

[Brian]

How lucky, the kitchen served your favorite: eggs.

There's also some warm bread and some cheese.  These people seem big on the Atkins diet.  Mirallia takes a small plate with some of the eggs, and a piece of bread, and goes back to her writing table.

[Bjorn]

Bjorn quickly and efficiently eats his share.  When finished, he looks over at Mirallia.  "May I ask what you're working on?" he asks, politely.

[Brian]

"My memiours," she replies, frowning.  "And perhaps my confession...."  She pauses.  "Perhaps I should burn it.  It would not do for this to be found ... but I have yet to record my sin upon it, only that which led me to the temple at Winterhaven."

[Bjorn]

Bjorn snorts softly, under his breath.  "Memoirs are best written when everything's long done, I think," he says, somewhat more gently than the words would indicate.  "For now, I think we'd better off doing something, then thinking about what's already done."

[Brian]

"Very well," she says, setting the quill aside.  "What should we do, then?"

[Bjorn]

"That," Bjorn pronounces, "is a very good question."

He frowns, and looks off in the distance.  "So.  What's the problem?  A lot of things.  The Dreadmarch is ahead of schedule.  The priestess who should have had your task died.  The ambush in the mountains."  His brow knits further.  "The fact that the storm-riders didn't help you.  The disappearance of the Loremaster Eske.  Probably other things, that I've forgotten or don't know about.  All of it goes towards the Dreadmarch winning."

He sighs, and slumps in his seat.  "The problem is seeing the connections -- and from there, what to do about it.  Somebody is behind all this; and, likely, has been for a while.  If the storm-riders have been subverted... likely, then, Bloom's torc was stolen to help a puppet into his place, and that happened a long time ago.  On the other hand, the ambush couldn't have been prepared much in advance...."  

He trails off into thought.

[Brian]

"This many things working against us ... I find it all very unsettling," Mirallia says, pacing from one wall, to the writing desk, and then back.  "But I don't understand who ... or what ... is behind it."

[Bjorn]

"Radagast might be right," Bjorn says slowly, startled out of contemplation by Mirellia's speech.  Leaning back in his chair, he continues, "It might be my... opposition.  There's problems with that, but it's not impossible.

"But practically speaking, what's behind it is the Dreadmarch and the Elder Gods.  The end goal is the same thing they've always aimed at, it's just that this time they seem to be getting smarter.  They've recruited human agents, or put in convincing dopplegangers.  They're weaving a net.  What we need to do is take hold of a thread."

He pauses again, thinking.

[Brian]

"I wasn't ever much for embriodery," Mirallia supplies, tapping her fingers across the surface of the window in the main room.  "But I guess that's what we are, and someone's already set about unravelling us."

[Bjorn]

Bjorn grunts softly in agreement.  His heads hangs a while longer, and then he shakes it, looking up at Mirallia.  "I think we have too many questions, and not enough answers, or leads to answers.  We won't find any sitting here."

Rising, he continues, "Unless you have another idea, I think we should go find Lord Kelvin and see if there's anything we can do to assist in the preparations.  I have some tactical questions I would like answered... and at the very least, if anything else is to happen, the quickest way to find out about it is to be near the command."  He shrugs, slightly embarassed.