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| - The faint orange light washed the pine walls of the town hall as Remia greedily devoured the historical accounts of Garithos's military exploits. Hours earlier she had flung off her boots and slid up the volumninous sleeves of her peasant shirt anyone would have mistaken her for a striking gardener rather than an archmage capable of singeing off the nose hairs of an ogre at fifty paces. She looking almost childlike with her feet resting on one of the long trestle tables absently sipping the lemonade the cook had left her as she poured over the tome. The mage winced as she read a rather vivid description of Garithos's interaction with the Blood Elf Prince, Kael'thas. Garithos had been left to lead the military forces guarding the surviving human encampments after the fall of Lordaeron. The accounts portrayed him as tactiturn, xenophobic, and a man of duty lacking any nuance or subtlety. It was apparent to Remia that only one term would sufficiently describe Garithos's in his interactions with outsiders.. he was well..an asshole...to put it bluntly. Remia was having some difficulty reconciling the father of Calithos's stories with the historical personage. In Cal's tales his father had been a determined man but a devoted father and a loving husband to his mother. The fire elemental's tear necklace that Remia now wore had been a gift to Cal's mother from Garithos. Indeed, Calitho's tale of his father showed a humanity that never ended up in the texts. According to Cal he was a driven, stubborn, man which was consistent with the legend but what had been missed was the protectiveness and tenderness the man had shown for his family. The elderly cook, Eldin, still recalled Garithos with respect and a certain fondness recalling his fairness, how he treated the staff like extended family and generous and fair he had been to the tenant farmers. Eldin had told Remia that the Grand Marshal had, had a temper that matched his even handedness to his friends and neighbors. He was a man that had seen so much horror during the war it nutured a paronoia of any outsider. Anyone he did not know..any non-human could not be trusted. Remia recalled vividly one of the discussions she had with Calithos when they first met. He had referred to himself as the "Son of a Monster" which was the derogatary term others had often directed at the sweet, natured cleric when trying to dismiss him before knowing anything about his true spirit. The mage was honestly disgusted at the belief that some people seemed to hold that personality could be transmitted through the blood and thus Calithos had inherited the sins of his father..that of racism. Calithos had a duality of personality that Remia had often observed..perhaps some traits of his father and his mother blended, along with the doubt he always carried that Garithos's more notorious qualitites were rooted deep within his psyche. Remia had little doubt that Cal's tendency to respond to any threat witha show of force was something he had learned from his warlord father. But the generally even tempered cleric was not a racist. He had in fact adopted two Kaldorei "daughters" Frelle and Crimsonlock and had the tendency to dote over them as if they were his own children. The mage smiled as she recalled his pride when he had attended both their weddings. Remia planned on talking to Cal, when he returned about possibly publishing his father's journals and perhaps writing something about Garithos's personal life. The archmage felt it was critically important that the private man be known as well as the public figure. Remia thought that Garithos served as a vivid example of how the war had twisted the hearts and minds of individuals who initially had such a capacity for love and loyalty. It seemed to her that fact had been obscured in the simple histories she had encountered which tended to portray Cal's father as a caricature of who he was ignoring the details that illuminated what drove the man to intolerance and paranoid fear. Prolonged warfare could have an insidious effect over time on anyone immersed in it long enough. To Remia this seemed a crime above and beyond the blood that stained the soil, the body counts and wounds. The eroding of a person's humanity if forced to continuously defend their homes year after year. Remia stretched and raked her hand through her dark chestnut mane. She closed the book and placed it back in the chest and would have it sent to the study in the manor. She started to methodically unpack the cracks and set about categorizing the books placing them in shelves that she grouped by topic. There were so many texts she would like to acquire on the plant ecology of Azeroth, The Order of Tirisfal, and anything of an obscure nature regarding the arcane arts. Certainly she could inquire about rare book dealers on her next trip to Ironforge. The mage was a picure of internal focus as she worked. Her eyes glimmered with vitality and her hair was slightly disheveled as wavy tendrils escaped the loose ponytail she wore. Remia looked more content that she had been for many years seemingly finding a niche in a land she was still a stranger to.. It had been only a week since Calithos had ridden off on his speckled pony riding off to a meeting she knew little about. What struck Remia the most was just how much his absence had impacted her..honestly it frightened her a little. She had tried to keep herself occupied working to restore the library but the absence of her lover ate at her far more than she imagined it would. The mage had always prided herself for being independent and since her divorce a year ago she had allowed no man to truly penetrate the icy fortress that shielded her heart. The saddest part of her divorce had not been the permanent parting of ways from the man she had loved...nor even his believing the lies that had been told regarding her. The greatest sorrow and wound was that she had begun believing her own bad press..somehow in her vulnerability she had ignored her true voice and spirit..lost who she truly was. Remia had learned a hard lesson in life which still took time to sink in. A woman who is strong willed and will not conform is branded the whore..it is the weapon that men have wielded to hobble a woman to make her tow the line or to punish some imagined wrong doing. In the final analysis the mage knew she had given her accusers power..she had allowed it to happen and thus was partially responsible. Coming to Blyde Manor had been a healing thing. The staff at Caltiho's estate knew nothing of the sordid gossip about her in Stormwind. They treated her based on how she behaved around them. Remia, despite her noble bloodline, was a woman strongly commited to egalitarianism and meritocracy. She treated the staff as equals and often worked side by side with them in their tasks. They respected her fairness and gracious manners and knew when not to test her stubborness. Remia sat before the fire in the bedroom thinking, her emotions temporarily paralyzing her. She thought about Calithos how he had quietly penetrated her emotional reserve so gently she could scarcely discern the traces. The archmage thought of him now, how the faint light illuminated the gold flecks in his eyes, how his skin smelled as he held her. Most of all she marvelled at his seemingly endless patience with her..her fire, drive and tempestuous nature. Her heart was slowly opening to him like a flower yielding to rain and it frightened her. Such a thing always had foresaged abandonment by a man. The mage frowned as her mind raced her dark, wavy, hair a fan against the back of the chair. She did not even notice his footsteps as he entered the room a soft smile on his face but also the look of fatigue. Calithos pulled up a chair sitting beside her and caressed her wild mane. He had always teased her that it reminded him of jungle vines as he invariably got his fingers caught in it. Remia looked up at the cleric and pulled him to her without a word holding him tightly as if he were floating driftwood and she was a drowning woman. Cal returned her embrace but his voice sounded hoarse and she could discern grey shadows beneath his eyes. The trip has exhausted him it was clear. The mage frowned noting her love's tiredness and the grimness which was so contrary to his generally sunny nature. When she required about the details of his meeting he gave her a somewhat vague answer. "I have been asked to pick up the banner of my father so to speak." Cal said cryptically his gaze tired from beneath his heavily lidded eyes. "So by that you mean that you mean you have been appointed to some military position?", Remia inquired tilting her head and smoothing the folds of her lavender gown. The Archmage studied Cal's face noting how prounced his undereye circles were. "It is not like you to be so secretive." Remia studied his face as she called out the cook's name.."Eldin!". "I have my strange moments, hun. Honestly, sometimes I have to stay secretive..few, but serious things.", Calithos spoke his eyes hooded. Oh..the little woman is not to worry her head over such things?", Remia frowned and tapped her foot as Eldin bustled up the stairs. "Sure, why not. But it's mostly so no one else knows.", Cal smirked insouciantly. Eldin walked in the room looking at Cal and Remia smiling in an amused fasion noting the rising flush in Remia's cheeks "You called Remia?", the cook executed a mock bow, a playful grin in his eyes. "Please bring a paedus and moonberry juice if you would Eldin. I would be in your debt.", Remia inclined her head giving Eldin a warm smile before turning to Cal her emotions warring in her face. Calithos turned to Remia Smiling and rubbing his hand slightly, "But I have been asked to do some things for the Crown. It's a duty my family is proud to do at any time." Remia's visage softened somewhat at the announcement, "Oh...and what would these duties be darling?" Remia relaxed slightly and favored Cal with a look of pride. Cal leaned heavily in his chair, "I think we discuss the details in the morning, hon". Calithos took the plate of Paeduses that Eldin had delievered and began to eat them voraciously taking determined bites out of the meat laden confection encased in layers of grease imbued batter. "Very well you look as if you need rest love, we can discuss this over a breakfast of sausage, eggs and potatoes.", Remia grinned at the cleric knowing his fondness for anything prepared in hot oils. After Calithos had finished scarfing down his meal Remia turned down the comforter and helped to undress him...her curiousity regarding the details of his appoinment would have to wait. The mage curled up next to her love her mind still active as she listened to the heartbeat of the man she would marry. Remia knelt in the center of a small plot of soil adjacent to the livery in Blyde Manor her dark brows drawn together in concentration as she worked the soil with a small clawed tool. The mage had her deep blue peasant shirt rolled to her elbows and she seemed unconcerned by the soil on her skin. To Remia the feel of the earth was a sensuous thing and she could almost feel it teeming with life as the grains slipped through her fingers. She was a woman surprisingly in tune with nature despite her arcane callings. Remia felt a sense of peace when she worked in her herb garden or worked on restoring the Blyde library that she never had in the midst of the chaotic social thicket of Stormwind. Calithos would always be tied to the place she knew, but she had found more contentment since she had moved to his ancestral home than she had in all her years in the eastern kingdoms. Remia had planted lavender, juniper, echinacea, bergamont and a host of healing herbs in the small plot and they had thrived with months of sun and her regular attentions. For all her serenity she was lonely truth be told. Calithos had been gone frequently and had been somewhat distant as this new appointment by the crown weighed heavily on his mind and seemed to stir slumbering passions in him inherited from his ancestors. Remia felt off balance and attempted to regain some of it by throwing herself into many projects spilling much of her creative fires in an attempt to keep her mind off the things gnawing at it. The mage continued to work on restoring the Blyde library and now sought to add some rare tomes to the collections. Interestingly enough the boredom of the housestaff had paid off richly for her as gossip regarding her activities had reached the ears of a certain "tradesman", a purveyor of rare books by the name of Tai Jiang. Remia had heard that name before in Stormwind mentioned with a trace of fear and respect. When the archmage had discussed the book dealer with Calithos he had referred to Mister Jiang as one of the "big fishes" in Stormwind, one of the many fishes of a continous and seemingly never ending chain of a big fishes eating their smaller counterparts. Remia found herself wondering precisely how many things this Tai Jiang had his fingers in and if she could purchase something of a politically more expedient nature than tomes. She had learned that Calithos had a host of enemies and in his new appointment she would be well advised to acquire methods of gathering intelligence discreetly. Fortunately for Remia, she had acquired a considerable amount of wealth during her adventuring career in the form of rare gems enough to live very comfortably and line the pockets of an informant. The Archmage had a true passion for collecting gems, fossils, and polished stones and the shelves in her study were lined with geodes, slate impressed with the imprints of long extinct ferns ,many segmented crustaceans or shelled cephalopods. Honestly she valued the fossils and semi-prescious stones far more than the valuable diamonds she owned. In fact Calithos had surprised her recently upon his return with some exquisite fossils, a geode, and a slice of pale green agate. The gifts has touched her more than any gift a man had ever given her for they were gifts that suited her spirit and personality which was far more meaningful to her than roses or furs. The mage settled the soil back around the plants and took out a small scythe to cut some fresh lavender to scent the pillows in their room. She smiled as she thought of Calithos who would return to her after he spent his work week in Stormwind at week's end. In the meantime she would work in the shadows for both of their best interests. Remia was quietly determined protect the man she cherished. Later that day she made arrangements to meet Mister Jinag in Menethil and hoped that this "big fish" had more to sell than tomes... Remia gently spurred on Ebonstorm to a full gallop as she raced accross the snow laden fields of Hillbrad her forest green velvet cloak billowing behind her. The mage enjoyed the crisp, cool, air but felt inwardly drained. The holiday season had been tumultuous and exciting but the preparations and festivities had taken their toll on her energy reserves. She was glad to be heading home to Blyde Manor. Remia disliked having to slow down at all due to her pregnancy. She was entering her fifth month...her limbs felt like stone and she tired rather easily. The mage was stubbornly determined to continue with her plans to nurture her husband's career. Calithos was a bright,resourceful, man who had a fine grasp of the law, the history of Azeroth, and politics. Sadly he lacked the drive and ambition needed for his success. Remia had spent much of her time since the last summer cultivating relationships with those she regarded as having the power and connections to manipulate political events in Stormwind. The mage's most fortuitous dealings had been with the Jiang's who owned the prosperous Grey Tiger Shipping Company. Rem admired Tai and Kennia's shrewed political minds, their information gathering abilities, and how masterfully they could influence players in key positions of power. She was not entirely naive, she realized that the refined and charming couple was most likley capable of less ethical methods of achieving their ends but she had no desire to delve too deeply into the nuts and bolts of how their organization operated. The political climate in Stormwind was even more chaotic recently, several of the magistrates seemingly vanished, the law enforcement organization had disbanded and the nobles cowered in their lavish apartments like terrified mice. Recent trips to Stormwind these days invariably involved encounters with the mentally ill, rapists, demon possesed inviduals, or bandits with no State sponsored force to keep these individuals from harming themselves or others. The day after New Year's Mister Jiang had requested a meeting with herself and Calithos. They had discussed a proposal in the past few weeks about possibly leveraging influence to appoint Calithos as a Protector of Theramore. If Cal was indeed appointed to the position he would have to ensure that the Tong retained exclusive trade dominance over the port city as well as to assist in defending the trade caravans which were being attacked with more frequency by the Horde. The Jiangs had urged them to consider this proposal carefully. Remia had urged Cal to visit Theramore with her after the meeting with the Jiangs and scout the city to look for real estate. Cal, who had been intitally receptive to the proposal, began to drag his heels on the matter saying he did like the prospect of leaving his estate or Stormwind unguarded. The mage longed for Cal to be appointed to a law enforcement postiton in Stormwind itself for they both cared about the future of the city. Rem realized that Cal's stormy relations with Magistrate Sirithil had made the prospect of that dream fairly elusive and had urged her husband to take the post in Theramore. The meeting with the Jiang's after New Year's had been most disturbing. Mister Jiang reported that Rachet had been attacked by unknown forces and whoever had intiated the strike appeared to possess some kind of Writ which allowed them to use manipulate forces in order to attack Goblin held terriory. Cal had concluded that this chain of events could lead to possible war with the Steamwheedle Cartel and the cessation of its trade relations with the Alliance. Remia had sat through the meeting feeling leaden trying to absorb the facts and digesting them slowly. As she was not native to Azeroth she did not have her husband's grasp of the history which illuminated these events. The Jiang's had urged Calithos to use his legal skills to research the matter and publish some sort of treatise in the matter to manipulate public opinion that the writ was a forgery. Calithos honestly believed the document to be a fake but Remia was not so certain. New Year's eve Remia had made the acquaintance of a noble named Lord Vyrion Rhaennor who someohow had known who she was and had introduced himself. Lord Rheennor was the owner of a trade company, an intelligent man with courtly manners and a philosohical mannor. Remia has noticed that Cal had warmed up to him almost immediately upon meeting him which was rather rare for the normally cynical cleric. Rem had listened to their conversation with great interest, a bit concerned that the elegant man would be infringing on the Tong's turf. Vyrion seemed asute enough to heed her advice about setting up a meeting with Mister Jiang as Kennia had briefly alluded to it when Remia mentioned meeting Lord Rhaennor. Remia noticed that the noble had an odd disliking for authority which was odd for a patrician. When the mage had discussed the lack of law enforcement and the need for order he indicated that things were more peaceful without a police force. When Rem reflected back on the conversation at the ball she recalled his mentioning that his company used old trade routes previously used by the goblins. Remia drew her cloak tighter to her as she neared the estate shivering slightly. She wondered if Lord Rhaennor be the unseen force behind the attacks in Ratchet. He certainly had motive and his family were nobles with connections who had operated the business for generations. Bits and pieces of facts seemed to point to this new stranger as the man behind this recent attack. The mage cursed to herself as she reached the manor and slid carefully off her horse. She was at a distinct disadvantage in trying to piece these events together as she did not have Cal's historical knowledge just untested hunches.
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