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Old 03-26-2004, 08:01 AM   #142
Nerindel
Spirited Weaver of Fates
 
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Korpulfr walked confidently through the long corridors of the palace contemplating the little Tinar had revealed to him and turning over the many preparations that still needed attending before his guests arrived. He had full confidence that his household would already have many of the preparations well under way, but he always found that it never hurt to be overly cautious when entertaining strangers. As he walked, he watched the palace staff dutifully going about their business and could not help but wonder if Lord Falasmir had such confidences in all his own staff. The thought brought a wry grin to his face as he thought of the Lords newest advisor. Wyrma was certainly not one to be trifled with, she too hungered for the freedom of their people, but it did not occur to him to what lengths she would go to secure that freedom. His faith in his kin and the injustices he had witnessed during his child hood years blinded him to any such indiscretions the current Wyrm might commit.

Striding through the courtyard he nodded accordingly to the lords and ladies of the gentry that walked the grounds oblivious to advisor Wyrma’s true nature, concerned only with the ship and crew currently berthed in their port, he had to marvel at the irony of it all! While Falasmir plotted and schemed and the people of Umbar overly concerned themselves with their guests, they failed to see the dragon in their midst’s and the wolves closing tight around them ready for the kill, or so he was lead to believe. Each day the council of eldars assured him and his father that plans where going well, but of what those plans entailed he was never told, if his father knew he never spoke of it and he never asked. Having full confidence in the leaders of his people and never having any cause to doubt their words or sincerity.

Reaching the merchants entrance of the palace kitchens he procured the signature of the store master and went to retrieve his cart, leaving the palace for once in decidedly high spirits, despite the cold looks he received from the guards as he passed through the iron gates. On reaching the house, he left the cart and horses in the care of the stable hands and set about ensuring that all preparations for this evening’s meal were well in hand. Once satisfied that all was indeed ready and having seen to many preparations himself, he retired to his room to wash and change, stopping briefly to drop off paper work, look over, and sign some documents Asrim had left for him in the study.

Standing on the balcony to his room he watched as the sun dipped its head into the cool blue waters of the sea. A cooling breeze ruffled the light fabric of his shirt as his gaze fell on the three ships berthed below in Umbar’s port, dark ominous shadows against the orangey red glow of the setting sun. “It is time!” a familiar voice behind him announced drawing his attention. With a grin he turned to see Asrim standing in the doorway waiting for him, carefully fixing the cuffs of his shirt so they showed beneath his finely cut russet jacket, his advisor looking the very image of a fine Haradwaith gentleman merchant. Next to him stood Hasrim, but unlike Asrim the desert warrior did not stand on formality or pomp, choosing instead to wear the simple yet practical attire of the desert people that they once were, his weapons hanging openly at his waist. Lifting a plain but finely cut red waistcoat he slipped it over his loose cream shirt and followed his cousins to the entrance hall to greet their guests as they arrived.

Already many of the Maenwaith merchant's and their families had arrived and were milling about in small groups discussing the day’s trade. The squeal of children’s laughter brought a smile to his face as he stepped to one side to narrowly avoid a collision, as a number of small children chased each other around the hall. Tinar too had already arrived and sought him out with an excited wave of his hand. A small bell rang and the children and his kin all stopped what they were doing and made their way into the dinning hall as they did every evening, all except Tinar who at his askance joined them to greet his guests when they arrived.
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