Private Tales New Doors

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
The Golden Gardens was an appropriate name.

In the center of the large banquet hall was a forest of plants which sprouted the most amazing golden leaves. It was difficult to tell if they were simply painted gold or they'd somehow been bred that way. A large waterfall fell into a pond, musicians with harps and violins played a slow ballad, and around that little oasis sat all of the polished wooden tables where diners dressed in far fancier attire than Noel and Amos enjoyed their meals.

"This way," a woman wearing a black and golden dress with a face painted white gestured them towards a table that faced into the beautiful garden itself. Being this close Noel could make out the white roses that grew off some of the plants, surrounded by the golden leaves.

As soon as Amos and Noel took their seats three men appeared wearing similar clothing as the hostess that had escorted them to their table. Two of the men flapped out white napkins and laid them upon each of their laps, the third spoke up.

"Amos Savren and," he looked Noel up-and-down before noticing her Dreadlord patch, "Lady Dreadlord. Shall I start you with something to drink."

"Wine," Noel said, "and whatever he's having."

The waiter's neatly trimmed beard seemed to shift slightly in disappointment, "we have a chardonnay from Vel Lacuzi, a chenin blanc from Elbion, an interesting red blend from just south of Restov, we recently got a shipment of Vansire Vineyard's most 323 offering..."

He listed off a half dozen other choices as Noel's eyes glazed over. "Just a bottle of wine."

"Very good miss," the waiter grinned and then looked Amos directly in the eyes, "and for the gentleman?"
 
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Amos had always been kind.

It was his nature, despite the place he had been born. That kindness had meant often people thought him the fool. In the Gutters, everyone had picked on up, taken advantage, always pressed their luck. It was a matter of course until Alaric and the other.

This was all to say, Amos could tell when he was being picked on. His fingers tapped against the table as the waiter glanced over to him, his cane gently lifting, and then pressing down into the waiters foot.

"Ah. I think Jiy-oh, Miss Luana recommended to me..." Amos knew the name of course, he had an eidetic memory, but drawing out the conversation would let the name settle. Luana might not have been a founding Family, but they were a Great House. Their word was still as good as law in an establishment like this.

As much as many might have disliked that. "The Tyrian Brandy, 12 year."

Amos didn't actually want the drink, he detested the alcohol, but Jiya had told him that the bottle was apparently some rare thing that only existed once every thousand years. He might have to explain later why that particular item was on the tab, but Amos thought Jiya might appreciate the reproach.

Hoping he was suitably chastised, and now understood the true power dynamic of the moment, Amos lifted his cane. Moment of social bravery gone.
 
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Something shifted in the air but Noel couldn't quite place it. The waiter suddenly got very tense and hastily recorded a note upon the little piece of parchment he carried.

"Yes, Tyrian Brandy 12 year, an excellent choice," glancing up from his paper he chanced a look at the Dreadlord he'd dismissed earlier, "and a bottle of Anirian Airen 368 for the lady, an exquisite bottle of wine."

"And some appetizers," she said without missing a beat.

"Appetizers, yes, what would you," he hesitated for a second, staring down at his foot, then at Amos, then back at Noel, "I'll bring some prawns, fresh baked bread, and a fig tray right away. On the house." He seemed to look at Amos once more before nodded and scurrying off.

Noel slammed the table not long after he was out of earshot. "Hot damn Amos, this place is swanky. Do you eat like this all the time?" It was obvious from her demeanor that Noel had rarely, if ever, dined in such luxury. "More importantly though, that thing we did back there?"

She shook her head, still in disbelief that she'd managed to get the various metals to bend in the precise ways that he had required.

"I can't believe I did that. Can't believe you did that."

Noel had to resist thinking of what the future would entail for their device. She was still confident that if House Luana didn't use it for their own benefit the Guard surely would. Tonight they could just appreciate achieving something that was, truly, spectacular.
 
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The scientist jumped as his Dreadlord companion slammed the table in excitement. His own forwardness with the wait-staff having come as half a shock, and his companion's as a second to complete the whole.

Amos' cheeks couldn't help but color as Noel offered her praise. His head shaking as he answered. "No, honestly, half the time I'm in the laboratory I forget to eat at all."

It was a complaint that had been lodged by Kaeden more than a dozen time. His partner often arguing that his lack of self-awareness was half the reason why the sickness gripping him was progressing. It was not a fact that Amos could argue, but when deep within his work food often seemed a waste of time.

Not that it mattered now.

What they had done was worth skipping a hundred meals.

"It is you who deserves the praise." Amos said with a solid confidence. "Without you, I don't think my designs could ever have become a reality."

In fact, he knew it was true. The tolerances that he required, the measurements...without Noel's magic they would have been impossible to achieve. Even the dwarves had not been capable enough. "I will be forever in your debt."

Amos said, directing a soft smile at his dinner companion.

"Without you, I am unsure if my dream could ever be achieved." The young scientist said, his eyes taking on the nature of a dream. "What we built will change Vel Anir, the world, for the better. I just know it."

The excitement could hardly be kept from his voice. "Truly, Noel. Your magics are incredible."
 
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Noel kept her composure perfectly calm as she saw Amos become startled by her outburst. Clearly he wouldn't have been fit for a battlefield but, well, that was alright.

"You forget to eat?" That seemed odd. Whether they were going on a march, prepping for battle, or going into countless other dangerous situations, Noel had learned long ago that proper nutrition was vital for whatever task lay before them. Neglecting ones health was, "you'd probably be more productive in your lab if you grabbed an apple or something from time-to-time."

A dismissive hand was raised towards all of his praise.

There had been an assignment and she'd answered the call. She'd come here to perform a task and when Noel was sent anywhere by the Black Guard she'd always tried to over deliver on whatever they asked. "My magic is sort of innate," she said while taking a sip of crystal clear water, rubbing one hand against the fine white cloth the restaurant covered their tables in, "of course, it also has taken my entire life to hone but... well, it was mostly something I was born with."

Whether it was luck or a curse was likely up to perspective.

Her lips contorted in a strange shape as she thought on Amos' comment about changing Vel Anir, and the world at large. Surely he had to know that she'd be asked to write up a report on this assignment? Which would, in all likelihood...

"I'm glad we were able to accomplish what we did." Maybe Amos' noble friends truly could pull the proper strings to keep the Anirian military out of it. "Amos." Noel laid both her palms upon the table and looked at the inventor with a serious face. "You do realize that Dreadlords have to write up reports about their assignments? They are very, very, detailed."

She technically wasn't betraying the Guard by informing him of this little detail. Just giving him a friendly warning of what may lie ahead.
 
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"Kaeden says the same thing." Amos said with a laugh, though couldn't quite explain why such things never occurred to him. Truth be told, when he was in the midst of his work, everything else seemed less important. Even his own well being.

In the moment though, he was more than happy to take care of himself and indulge. Taking a sip of his drink and allowing some of the constant tension from his sickness to melt away.

The celebration of their achievement however was quickly cut into by Noel's veiled warning of reality.

Amos' smile faltered for a brief moment, though only for a second.

Though a part of him had hoped that Noel would see and understand the importance of this, he would never ask her to betray her duty. At the end of the day, she was no a researcher of scientist like he was, she was a Dreadlord. One now in service of the the Anirian Guard. "I...am not unaware."

He said the small smile on his lips trying not to betray some of the sadness in his voice.

"I know it is where I live, Noel. I am under no illusions of what my work might eventually become." Though the Republic was better than what had been there before, Vel Anir was still...well, itself. There was no question that eventually someone would want to use his work for the violence their nation was famed for. "What we have done will change many things, my only hope is that it will change things for the better before..."

Amos shook his head. "Your help comes with a cost, but I knew that cost going in."

He assured her, though did not mention that he still hoped she would delay things on her end.

"Progress is never a straight line." Amos said, sounding as though he were quoting someone. "The Guard are not the only ones interested in what I am doing, and I am sure there will be...arguments."

His hope was, in the midst of those arguments he could continue to slip under many watchful eyes and bring his work to the people. Once they had it, once they saw, he hoped it would better their lives before Vel Anir inevitably turned his invention towards war.
 
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Noel remained silent, nodding along as Amos spoke. Once he had finished she was content knowing that he understood the warning she issued. Part of her debated saying more, offering him a bit of reprieve.

But it wouldn’t be fair to commit to anything she wasn’t willing to do.

”For now we can just enjoy our success,” she said right as the waiter had returned, shown them the bottles they ordered, and poured their first drinks. ”Wow.”

The metal-manipulator had brought the glass up to her lips to smell it and was immediately overwhelmed by the intense aroma the wine emitted. She took a precarious sip and her features lit up immediately.

”This is really, really, good.”

Her words were followed by an immediate gulp of more wine. ”Like, really good!” For someone who’d only ever been exposed to the cheap local wines of dive bars on missions or the swill they drank in the Guard, having something that was actually considered to be quality was an eye-opening experience.

It was this new avenue of tastes that gave Noel an idea. Not a very professional or typical idea for someone like her but an idea that had merit.

”Maybe I get very drunk tonight and get a little fuzzy on the details when I have to write up that report,” she shrugged after downing her glass and pouring a second one, ”you’re lucky.”

Re-corking the bottle and swirling the red liquid around in the glass she allowed herself a second before elaborating. ”Sometimes they send me on missions with another Dreadlord or a contingent of Guards.”
 
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"Ha!" Amos burst out in a small burst of laughter, his head almost immediately looking around as he realized he'd done so perhaps a bit too loudly. Some of the other guests who had already been staring at them now shaking their heads.

His lips pressed to a thin line, but he couldn't help the smile that presented itself.

Calling the young scientist a bit of a lightweight was a complement. After three sips of wine his chest was feeling warm and his cheeks warmer. Drinking had not been an oft held past time by the young man, and Noel's joke of getting her drunk enough for her to 'forget' parts of her report were truly humorous to him. "We'll have to order more than."

Amos said, chuckling to himself and once again finding himself glad that most of his expenses were paid for by the Luana's dime. He would probably have to do some explaining about...this, to Jiya, but she was a reasonable woman, and would see the need for celebrations.

Probably.

Then, when Noel mentioned his 'luck' in attaining her services, he coughed slightly. His lungs briefly burning as he nearly sent his current sip of wine down the wrong throat.

"I...ah, well I don't think that was ever a possibility." He admitted to her. "You see, I'd hit a wall with the project."

Amos was almost certain he'd said that before, but in the haze of the mild amount of alcohol he had already consumed he couldn't have been sure. "One of my colleagues was working with the Black Guard on another project."

Something to do with anti-magic, almost the exact opposite of Amos' own work.

"I...overheard them speaking about a Dreadlord working with the contingent, one who could shape metals." He wasn't entirely sure why he found this embarrassing to admit. "I practically jumped over two tables to get your name from them."

Amos said with a chuckle, the picture he painted far less sad than his hurried hobbling across the cafeteria. "I never requested the Guard's help. Just yours."
 
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"A lot more," she said with a grin as she drank another gulp of wine.

Noel had always been more devoted to her duties than anything else. She'd pledged to Luana before the Republic had set aside house service and though it had taken some adjustment she'd been able to rearrange her thinking to see the Guard as no lesser thing that service to a noble house.

Hell, part of the reason she'd chosen Luana, of the several houses that pitched to her, were because they seemed more interested in the greater good rather than wooing initiates with prized liquors and fancy meals.

But being at the Golden Gardens was proving to be an experience. One she enjoyed savoring.

A brow raised at Amos' latest revelation and she spoke again only after a further sip of her drink. "Huh. So that's why they sent me alone." He'd specifically requested her and the Guard was more than willing to oblige the request from Luana.

"Not too surprising for someone with the Black Guard to speak of me," her cheeks were already flushing from the alcohol, "I'm the first Dreadlord to join their ranks."

That was the nice way of phrasing it. The truth of it was that only a small number of the Black Guard regarded her with anything resembling respect. They'd existed for centuries prior to the revolution and had frequently been the force to hunt down rogue Dreadlords, frontier mages, or the shamans who inhabited the northern savannah.

Bred to fight and hate magic, having a sorcerer amongst their ranks had rubbed some of the older members of the Black Guard the wrong way from day one.
 
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"It's quite impressive." Amos said, not knowing anything about the intricacies of life as a Dreadlord apart from what he'd learned from Niamh and Ivan. The idea that the Black Guard wouldn't welcome someone as talented as Noel with open arms was utterly preposterous in his mind.

Though he was absolutely no strangers to petty grievances, competition, old rivalries, and jealousy. Many in Vel Zaphris still considered him little more than gutter-trash. Having grown up in Vel Anir's slums put a mar next to his name for many of the more...wealthy researchers here at the universities.

It was one of the reasons he would forever be grateful to Kaeden. The Son of House Banick had welcomed him with open arms, despite their disparate wealth. "Though, if you would ever like a different career...I assure you I'd hire you in an instant."

Amos said with a grin, taking another small sip of his brandy.

"The Engine could be just the start!" He declared, perhaps a bit too loudly again. "A years time and we would have even Adro singing our praises."

Often called the 'city of science' Adro was a somewhat known haven of researchers, academics, inventors, and all scholarly folk. Not a city of magics, but one bent on the furtherance of civilization through technology. Amos had never been there, though he corresponded with a number of it's citizens on a regular basis.

As Amos painted a fanciful picture of what Noel's engineering life could be, the waiter began to deliver the first of their appetizers. The smell of well spiced prawns and expertly cooked bread wafting into the air.
 
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"Hah!" Noel didn't even pretend to be modest as Amos heaped praised upon her. Although she doubted she'd be the reason they could rival Adro. If such a thing were even possible it would be driven by the brilliance of the man she shared a meal with.

All Noel would be doing is assembly work.

A safer career choice, for certain, but it lacked the adventure she craved. The sense of duty, the desire to raise to the heights she dreamed of as a little girl back at the academy. The conversation entered a pause however as their food arrived and the allomancer's mouth dropped. "This looks incredible."

Without another word she plucked one of the steaming loaves and tore it open, rapidly grabbing up a prawn, placing it inside the bread, and taking a giant bite. It was the most delicious thing she had ever put into her mouth, the outer crispiness of the bread, the slightly spicy shrimp, and the inner layers of the loaf which melted in her mouth.

"Incredible."

Once she'd swallowed the bite she placed her food upon her plate and regained Amos' gaze. "I don't think I could ever leave the Dreadlords," a smile came across her face, "but I'll consider your offer should I ever need to retire."

Noel had only ever told a few people, mostly Proctors, about her inner desire. Amos seemed as good as anyone to spill her guts to in the moment, however. "I want to make Archon," her demeanor changed instantly, "I'm a long ways off but I think I can do it."

Only as an Archon would she be able to prevent things like Rachel's death or Gilram absconding with her family. It was the only path left before her and despite her recent hardships the flame hadn't faded even a little.
 
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Amos finally understood why the prices here were so utterly ridiculous.

If his mother had taken a single look at the menu she probably would have had a heart attack. A single serving of shrimp was nearly equal to the whole of their monthly grocery budget in the Gutters. After a single taste though, it was easy to tell why. "Holy Kress."

He uttered wistfully as he almost immediately went back for a second serving of the dish. Savoring every bite as he carefully listened to Noel's words. Only the briefest flicker of disappointment running through him as she stated her true intentions.

Never in a million years could he blame her of course, but for a brief moment the pipe dream in his head truly had been beautiful.

"Archon?" He parroted finally as he finished chewing his food. Though he knew perilously little about Dreadlord's, everyone knew what an Archon was. They were in status and power almost as significant as the Great Houses, or at least had been once. "That is quite he climb."

He said with a smile. "But, after what I've seen you do, I'm more than sure you're up for it."

Amos said, believing every word, though frowning for a moment as he remembered something that he had been told about the position once. A rumor, perhaps, or a truth that belied the scheming which often went hand in hand with everything in Vel Anir.

"You will need many friends." He said slowly, not wanting to come off as though he were explaining Noel's own business to her. "From what I've heard."
 
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"It is a climb," it was spoken as a fact, not a brag. "It's something to strive for. And, perhaps someday, something I may actually achieve."

Noel allowed herself a brief moment of reprieve to go in for seconds of the appetizer. To indulge further into the wine. Forgetting the troubles of being a Dreadlord and the enormous weight she put upon herself.

A nod willed itself to existence as Amos spoke of making friends and issued a rather visible nod.

"I don't want to be a political lackey," another glob of shrimp plopped into her mouth. The chewing was therapeutic, allowing her to consider her words carefully. To say nothing of how good the thing tasted. "I want to earn it."

A silly gesture, there was no question about it. Her own Proctors at the academy had told her as much. Hell, even Ephraim, her commander within the Black Guard, had told her that while the Republic may be different it wouldn't allow someone without political allies to reach a title as lofty as Archon.

But, whether it was stubbornness or foolishness, Noel had been unwavering.

She downed her glass and then poured a third. "I'll always welcome friends," a smile forced its way up, "but I won't be beholden to others just so I can achieve my goals."
 
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"I understand." In fact, he understood probably better than most.

Though he would never be an Archon or anything close to it, Amos knew that the results of his work could possibly change Vel Anir itself. There were a thousand different ways one could abuse the creations he and Kaeden were thinking up, and the nation that they called home inevitably would point it towards one way in particular.

It was not what he wanted though, and he most certainly did not want to become a pawn in someone else's game. His works were for the people, for those who had nothing and needed something. "My friendship may not mean much."

He told her with a smile.

"But you have it all the same." After what Noel had done for him, what they achieved together, she would always have his gratitude. "If there is anything I can ever do to help you achieve your goal, you simply have to ask."

Amos continued as he took a sip of his drink. "You've already helped me achieve mine."

So it was the least he could do.
 
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Noel held her tongue as Amos spoke and only broke her focus when he had clearly finished.

"Your friendship means a lot," she finally said after a time, resisting the rising urge to eat more of the bread and shrimp. "With your brain and your inventions you'll probably be given a governorship or something in a few years."

A smile formed as the temptation of the food on the table finally grew too big to bear. The appetizer was just too damn good to leave on the table for very long, despite how serious the conversation had become. "I don't have many friends, actually."

She swirled her wine and fumbled over the last few years in her head slowly.

The revolution had brought many changes but one of the consequences of it had been how much more difficult it was for initiates to form the political connections that were forged so easily in the past. The wooing from great noble houses ended immediately and while she had no qualms serving the Guard it was undeniable that working in the service of Luana would've likely made her rise to higher ranks within the order of the Dreadlords much simpler.

"There was a bit of a schism at my graduation," there was no point in discussing the loss of noble ties with him but perhaps he hadn't fathomed just how badly Gilram had torn her family apart. "Several of those I once considered friends I am now obligated to hunt."

And, even those who stayed behind in Vel Anir found themselves working in other divisions of the Anirian Guard. "So, truly, your friendship means more than you know."
 
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Amos listened carefully, frowning as Noel spoke of the schism in her class.

Much of what went on with the Dreadlords was a mystery to the great Anirian public. The mages of Vel Anir were something of a secret to the populace. Amos knew more than the average person, but that was mainly because he'd met a few of the sorcerers by now.

"Ah..." The Scientist said with a frown.

"I...I grew up in the Gutters." Amos began, frowning for a moment before explaining further. "A district outside of Vel Anir', in what many would consider the slums."

What everyone would consider the slums. "I was always a sickly boy, that much hasn't changed. Many bullied me, picked on me, but there was one group of kids...Aleric and Lileas and the..."

Amos shook his head.

"They were not on the right side of the law, not in the least, but they took care of me." He shrugged for a moment, looking down as some of the opulent food in front of him as he thought of his long lost friends. "I do not know your old friends, but perhaps they are the same."

Not entirely without morals at least.
 
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A frown formed as Amos mentioned the gutters. She'd only been there once but the scene wasn't pretty. Some cocky crimelord had gotten too ambitious and was pressing the residents a bit too hard. From Noel's experience both the old House Council and the Republic had cared very little about the gutters but when a third of its residents were no longer paying taxes?

That's when they'd send academy initiates to flex some state-sponsored muscle.

"I think the gutters may be even worse than the academy," she chimed in, "at least we had structure. And meals." They were, if nothing else, assets. It made no sense to let them starve.

At the end of his words she shook her head. "They aren't the same." Noel allowed herself to polish off the rest of her glass before pouring another, realizing that it drained the last of the wine, "my fellow initiates knew better. They had options."

Her cheeks turned nearly as red as the wine. "They joined Gilram, Amos. They want to supplant the people we pledged to defend," she nearly slammed her fist upon the table, stopping herself just before she caused a scene and moving her balled fist into an open palm that grabbed at her glass in a clumsy motion, "I think if some of them knew of your plans they might even intend you harm."

Noel grinded her teeth and signaled to the waiter that she'd take an additional bottle of the good wine. "I don't know your friends but I assume they didn't have many options," from her brief time in the gutters, and other slums around Arethil, she'd learned that many of the truly destitute didn't, "my old friends had choices. They had options."

In the silence that hung she wasn't truly certain if she was trying to convince Amos or herself of that reality.
 
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A frown pulled as Amos' lips, his head tilting in a nod. "If you say it is so, it is so."

The Scientist said softly.

"I only know, that even in the face of a choice, one can often feel a noose tugging only one way." It was a cryptic saying, and as Amos spoke there was a forlorne look on his face. As though long ago he had come to some crossroad, something that he still regretted. "But perhaps that is enough of the world weariness."

He suggested. "We came here to celebrate, not to become ever more dour."

There was still wine to be had, not to mention the entrees and the deserts they had yet to sample. He did not want the night to be ruined simply because they focused on the wrong topic of conversation. Tonight was about celebrating what they had done.

It was important, it would change the world. Now that the Engine was finished, he could construct the cart, and after that the rails. Kaeden was already sourcing the materials, and soon everything would come together.

In larger part, because of Noel. Raising his glass, Amos offered a cheer to his companion.

"To you, to our success, and to a better future." Amos offered. "I hope to work with you again soon, Noel."
 
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