[Storm Shrine] Prospects Gather (OPEN)

[Trente]

Spring 19th 512

Light wisps of sun evaporated mist rose from the wild grass surrounding the Storm Shrine, still proudly perched upon it's hill, triumphantly wearing the singed remains of the awe inspiring lightening which struck down upon it during the grand Djed storm earlier that season. Shingles stripped from the roof, scattered about the large field of dewy grass as rustling from the animals and bugs finishing their morning routine and heading into the noontime hours emanated upward into the fresh sea air touched by the first of the day's sun peaking over another ridge close by and taller which would shroud the ancient shrine in shadows from the early light each morning.

Trente stood poised upon the steps, a ream of paper in his hand, a quill and ink well in the other. The soft wind brushed coolly upon his cheeks as his lips moved slightly, reciting his own thoughts to himself. A speech, which never touched paper, but had been forming in the back of his mind for weeks, trying with all it's might to call upon the grace of the god's to take shape, but failing at ever turn. He knew that day was the day he would learn if he had what it took to do live up to his own expectations, to rally the people, to save them from their own ignorance, and in the process save himself.

The preparations were made, a finely scrawled set of flyers handed out to every local business still standing, ever organizational leader of the relief, unabashedly throughout the halls of the University, and unsafely upon the docks as they were rebuild. Doing his best to ensure that each and every member of Zeltiva would find their eyes or ears upon his summons. Simple, and what Trente felt to be powerfully compelling.

.


Citizens of Zeltiva.
Arm yourselves with skill, and a free mind.
Join the people who take hold of their own destiny.

The Exulted Storm Shrine. 19th. Midday.

-Trente Ostentatoire-Criard Eclatante, Equal Citizen of Zeltiva.


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[Nai'shee]

Nai'shee eventually joined rather small group of people gathering here. She took another look at folded paper, flyer, looking at Trente's signature before looking up at real Trente. She smiled to him from the group. He seemed really nervous, which wasn't so usual for him, it was kind of cute. She didn't want to make mess approaching now, it was almost the time for speech to begin, so she started searching for more familiar faces in the crowd. There were all kinds of people, youngsters wishing to fight for stupid reasons, weaklings who wanted better treatment, sailors, few scary people who didn't seem like they need lessons and even bunch of everyday people, the type you meet while shopping in the morning. She was glad that different types of people were interested and sure more of them was coming.

[Leigo]

Leigo gripped his hand around the invitation, feeling proud to be Zeltivan born and raised. Only a local who knew these shores could hope to make something like this happen in the port city. Hopefully he would see this man soon. He could notice some familiar faces from the street. There was another that he sort of recognized, but he wrote it off as nothing as he positioned himself behind her. Nai’shee would not notice him, just like he would not recognize her fully. They both had more important things to attend currently. Safety in numbers wasn’t always his policy, but as of late this cruel rule seemed to push down on him and everyone else. Maybe the time of people wanting to be left alone was truly over, and this Trente character would be the one to do it. So far Leigo had nothing but respect for the man and his idea, but also kept feeling guilty he wasn’t that good at hoarding people back during the mage hunting. Everyone waited for a glorious figure to give life to this brilliant idea, but would they really get it?

[Idue]

Hope you don't mind, but I'm actually going to put your little joke into action with this post. Hope you don't mind, Trente, but I'm sure you'll like it

Idue wasn't one who missed meals often, especially in this food shortage. He had barely been out of his History class when he rushed to the Storm Shrine. Most things didn't spur his actions so, but today, he had to witness what was about to onfold. So he rushed onward towards the Shrine, a slip of parchment clenched in his balled fist. He knew exactly what it said on it. The message to him; the same message on flyers all over Zeltiva. Signed by the longest name Idue had ever seen. Signed by a man who Idue didn't quite like. He respected him, but by no means did he like Trente. But even though Idue would never admit it, the Benshira admired what the snob had done at the Winter Ball. He made sure people listened to him as he brought up this idea, using the same advice Idue had given him to cement his ideas. Martial training; this was something Idue was interested in. Having the chance to train with men like Faylon, men who cared about more than scholarly interests. He wished to crack someone upside their head without trouble from higher authorities. He desired a good fight. Idue assumed this was what this meeting was about; to address the topc of this martial training. He was reaching out to possible students, for sure, but this was also him searching for suitable instructors. And that was where Idue was going to come in. There was no way Trente would turn him away if he offered himself as an instructor; if he did, Idue would crack him upside the head until he relented. Idue knew his struggles; in a city like Zeltiva, with little combat focus, he needed anybody willing to help. So Idue already knew why he was there; he was there to help. Eventually Idue arrived at the Storm Shrine, and he took notice of the current situation. Trente stood on the steps, holding a slip of parchment. His lips seemed to be moving, but no words were heard. Probably speaking to remember what he wished to say; this time, he had time to consider his words. Not like at the Winter Ball. Looking around, Idue only noticed two people he recognized. Nai'shee was standing among the crowd, watching Trente. He didn't walk over to her; no need to socialize just yet. And then there was Leigo, yet another sophisticated individual Idue disliked. So of course, Idue ignored him too. In fact, he didn't speak at all. Idue walked to the center of the crowd, and crossed his arms. With his blue turban and his axes hanging from his sash. He did it for one reason; so Trente would notice him. He stood out in the crowd without trying, but this time, he was trying. Trente would notice him. There was no way not to. Because it was because of Idue that everyone was here. If it weren't for his advice, Trente would be standing up to help an entire city. Like him or not, both of their goals were intertwined. Idue wished to purify the city, and he wished to strengthened it. In the end, their hopeful outcome was the same. Like it or not, Trente and Idue would have to work together. And Idue personally felt like the latter as he stood there.

[Trente]

Trente's nerves grew both worse, and better as the people all gathered, first a dozen then two dozen, a few greeting him most just waiting, talking amongst themselves. The pressure was higher, but he knew the good turnout meant success. People were interested in the idea, and if he played his cards right that would be plenty for the movement. Let their wants, their passions drive the masses. He couldn't place where, exactly, his faith in the Zeltivan people came from. But, looking out at the individuals before him, it felt right.

He spotted Idue first, obtrusively placing himself in the center of the crowd. He knew Idue would show, and he wouldn't have expected any less. Trente cringed to allow Idue to be a face of the people's association, but Trente couldn't imagine success without him. He was everything Zeltiva needed, even if most couldn't see it. He had brawn, and mettle flowing from his every pore. He had cast aside, or more likely never had, his facade of elegance, and instead embraced efficiency. Raw, undiluted efficiency. To Idue, Trente gave a cool stare, direct but untinged by any obvious emotion. Almost a challenge, though in truth it was a welcome.

Nai'Shee was the second, her small frame took Trente some time to peice out. He wasn't sure but he had half expected her to wear her red dress, as inappropriate as it would have been. Her mannerisms were soft, as usual, but her nature raw. More fuel for their fire. He couldn't help but think if every Zeltivan citizen could tap into the energy that girl held within her, that useless politics would be cast out from the city forever. In it's place efficiency, passion, and freedom. Idealistic as it was, it's the wave of emotions she always welled up within him. To her, Trente gave a smile which hung just barely upon his otherwise straight lips, hinting at nervousness. His eyes were still hard though, she inspired him, and he hoped that she could somehow do the rest for the others, he wanted to ask her to come forward, to share herself with the crowd. For, maybe then, they would all understand. But, he didn't, not yet anyway. Though, he wasn't sure if it was because he wasn't ready, or if the crowd wasn't.

What got to him, however, was Faylon's absence. He had thought for sure Faylon would have been there. Faylon was his living martyr, the people's living martyr. A walking testimony to the lack of Zeltiva's preparedness, their reliance on pure luck, and godly assistance. The same gods who were still blamed for the storm. He needed Faylon, the people needed Faylon. He hoped, and prayed that Faylon would arrive, would show his face for the people, and decide to stand by Trente as more a leader than another else. Trente knew he could not lead the association, but Faylon. Faylon had the charisma it took, the strength, both of heart and body. And as reinforcement he was the talk of the town, he was a household story, and was the first to face the trials which had been mounted against the vulnerable city of Zeltiva in the past season.

Knowing he could not bide his time any longer, the crowd naturally turning their attention from one another to him, he stepped forward, cleared his throat, and began.

"Citizens of Zeltiva, I'm pleased to see how many of you have answered the call I've issued. Before I explain the nature of my intention I want to make very clear just the opposite, what I do not seek. I do not seek subjects, or followers. You are strong willed people, educated, and capable. You do not need a man such as myself, or any many to instruct you how to act, or how to think. Too long have you listened to authorities, trusted others with your very minds, your very bodies. And, we are all aware of in what state that has left our fair Zeltiva.

Instead, I beckon companions. Free thinking individuals which have as much will to help and guide me, as I do to help and guide them. I stand here as a fellow citizen welcoming any of you that wish to train in the martial, fields prohibited by the university, to take my lessons. Not for charge, but for gratitude, payed back only by a willingness to pass the knowledge forward.

And, just the same, I offer and submissive hand to those that would teach me. Those that would teach each other. Since Zeltiva's conception we have understood the undeniable truth that knowledge brings prosperity, brings freedom from the drab existence other cities must endure. Those shackles of ignorance that drag them all down under their respective authorities. What Zeltiva has taken so long to learn, waiting till such a catastrophe as the storm to awaken our wits, is that knowledge is not to be taught down, filled into the ignorant like a pungent wine into empty carafe, used as a tool to control and manipulate. As our current system does. No, we all realize now that knowledge is to be shared, as equals. No bad in above another, no matter their associations. No sailor better than a baker, no scholar more than a tailor. We are all Zeltivan, and all deserve an equal share at knowledge, both giving and receiving. Both academic, and martial. Only by taking this knowledge that would be forbade to use do we take out own thoughts in hand, our own destinies.

Those that appose us will no doubt try to dissuade you all. Convince you that such an association, such a guild would be impossible. Where, in all fact, for those clear of their deceptive words, it is quite simple. I have a ream of paper here, and a single quill and ink. With it all that wish to join in this freedom can sign their names, and give their skills. For the unskilled there need not be ashamed, in time you will grow, as will your skills. Sign your name and write what you wish to learn. For those that lack tools, and weapons, also cast aside shame. I personally will acquire these weapons for you, and for my services a fair and equal fee traded. Equals, with no debt owed as a leader, but as an associate. Just scrawl what you wish to own on the paper.

Don't be so foolish to think improvement is so simple, however. A series of pen strokes will not change Zeltiva, and it will not change you. Practice, and respect for yourself, and your body will change yourself. Compassion, and respect for your neighbors will change Zeltiva."

At this, Trente fell silent, steeling himself for what would come. His words were spoke, less elegantly than he would have liked, but more so than they could have been. Than they had been. He found it odd that he would be the first to speak those words to the people, that Zeltiva shunned such an organization for so long. Still, he wondered if his words would bring support, companionship and gratitude as he hoped. Or, if all that would come would be resistance, hatred, and fear from those already in power. He knew the nature of his words, words that aimed to rip power from the sailors guild and the universities collective, and land it in the laps of the people to do with what they wish.

[Paragon]

OOCSurprise! Hope you like Maria Satterthwite gathered her dark blue dress about herself as she ascended one of the narrow footpaths up into the foothills. She brushed a hand through her dark hair, hazarding a glance back down at the city. Nineteen days had passed, since the Konti visions had become reality. She nearly sobbed uncontrollably, but that would be weak. She couldn't be weak. People would not walk over her anymore. As she emerged in the clearing, she was surprised at the amount of people that had gathered. It was not a large group, no, but there were still more people than she would have estimated. It seemed strength was a unifier - people wanted to know how to defend themselves, how to break away from the promises of the University, and the petty bargaining of the Sailors. The Storm Shrine was the backdrop to this "Trente" she had heard so much about. Its roof was ashen black, a funnel for the mystical lightning that had struck it during the storm. And now, the man spoke, people listening, hope flickering in their eyes. She let her long dress trail a little to her side and folded her arms. She was not here in an official capacity - she was curious. And perhaps a little excited too. For now, she would hear the man out. But anything that might undermine the University and the Guild's power would suit her. Giving power to the people was just what the doctor had ordered.

[Nai'shee]

ParagonI like your way of breaking the ice. She was bored waiting for a while more for people to gather, but she was pleased with the results. She haven't noticed many known faces, but those she noticed were expected. She started playing with her hair while waiting for Trente to finally start his speech. Pretty much as everyone around. He seemed nervous too, but somehow proud for arranging all of this. She was surprised to see Maria Satterthwite approaching the crowd, with rather curious look on her face. Well, maybe it wasn't that much of surprise for her to come, but it still felt weird. She didn't know if that was because she rarely appeared in public or because she was simply mixed with people, like she was one of us. She was, Nai'shee reminded herself, she is Zeltivan like any of us. She was somewhat grateful for their leader finally fighting for them in this kind of crisis. It was noticeable that she was having hard time with the storm, but so did they. And she was fighting for people, while they fought for themselves. She was turned back by sound of Trente loudly clearing his throat. He's began his speech with formal thanking and gone straight to the point. His introductory words were effective, she noticed masses were approving his intentions and very few of them if any got a bit disappointed. Well, there are always people seeking war, aren't there? His words got her excited and she felt she just couldn't wait to learn something from him, from Idue over there, from other guys looking powerful enough, scary enough. However, she wasn't sure if people of Zeltiva could finally unite in common goal. It's not like they were fighting, but such a long term goal which requires ultimate equality will be hard to hold. But it is worth a try. If everyone tried it could be simple as that. Moment of silence came after the speech before smartest ones headed to sign on the papers. She wasn't one of the smartest ones, so she remained there, thinking of his words for few more seconds. She sighted seeing a scene before her, a long row waiting for their turn to add their names to the list. She decided it's too late to join them. She knew she will feel better if she's last on the list than if she has to patiently wait over there without fighting for the place. She turned around to find someone who shared her situation to talk to.

[Satevis]

The line was rather long, he noted.

Satevis sighed softly, folding his arms and watching them. There was wisdom in Trente's words, but that didn't make him rush forward to sign the papers. His life as an Ethaefal had given him almost a different concept of time. The line would go on for a while yet. It gave him time to think it over, as he watched the people. He disliked battle, and had never given much thought to training his body to fight, but he was no fool. He understood and even appreciated the necessity of force. He had his magic, and it was enough to defend himself against an attack, but there would come a time, he knew, when his magic would run out, and he would have to make the choice between overgiving or finding another way to fight.

They lived in dangerous times. Perhaps the fact that he had found his way here, on only the second day since he had arrived at Zeltiva, was the work of the gods.

But for now, he watched and waited.

It was morning, and he stood among the crowd in his Benshira form, a young man about six feet in height, with tan skin and the oddly light colored eyes that his people possessed. He was dressed in simple clothes, and the people in the crowd barely gave him a second glance. Satevis appreciated it, especially compared to the looks he drew at night. He really didn't like being the center of attention, which was why he did most of his errands during the day.

He scanned the crowd, his eyes falling on a young woman who seemed to be contemplating the same things. She was watching the line as well, and she had made no move to join it. Satevis walked slowly over to her, putting a warm smile on his face. He rarely opened conversations with people, but he would like to hear someone else's opinion on this.

"Still considering?" he asked as he reached Nai'shee, coming to stand next to her.

[Nai'shee]

She went completely airy, ridiculously staring at the line standing there. Benshira man who approached her scared her pretty badly. She jumped up a bit and took step back. "Oh", she sighted, "sorry 'bout that. I got lost in thoughts." It was pretty rare to see Benshira man here, in Zeltiva, as they didn't like the weather too much and this was her second encounter with one in short amount of time. He was tanned and well build, with dark brown hair and pale blue eyes, which appeared almost gray to Nai'shee compared to her own. "No, no, I'm sure I will sign, but I'm not really patient type..." She gave a long line a desperate sigh. There was a hell lot of people here. "I can't believe Trente managed to settle this, even nor he's pretty eloquent..." She quickly caught herself talking about him, so she changed a topic: "I really always wanted to learn how to fight, I got some practice as a child, but not too much. I actually want to become a sailor, and without weapon-skills it isn't very easy job." She wanted to tell him of her Flux skill, but then she remembered she knew nothing about the man and he could possibly be dangerous. Benshiras don't simply appear here without a reason. Idue was enough, especially with his temper. He didn't get into physical fights for no reason, but he was... picky about his company. But this man seemed like one of friendly Benshiras. "Oh, I'm babbling, sorry. I'm Nai'shee." She smiled and offered her hand for a shake. "Strange name, I know. How about you? Will you sign? Are you new to Zeltiva?"

[Satevis]

He had startled her. That much was obvious. It hadn't been his intention, but he supposed in a crowd like this, she wasn't expecting anyone to speak to her. Now that he was standing closer, he got a better look at her. She was young, probably not even out of her teens, with blond hair and ocean blue eyes. She was human, or at least she appeared to be--he was a prime example of how appearances could be misleading--but he couldn't place her in any of the human subraces that he had studied.

Satevis listened to her speak. She seemed to know this Trente, which meant that he had picked the right person to ask for more information from. A man's words were one thing, but words could be twisted. It was a little more difficult to deceive the people who knew you. He wondered if she knew this man well.

He took the offered hand, clasping it gently and shaking it. "I am called Satevis," he said. It wasn't a typical Benshira name, and he wondered if she would pick up on it. He didn't keep the fact that he was Ethaefal a secret, but he generally didn't mention it to people unless they asked or unless it was relevant to the conversation, just like he didn't mention his magic. It was a habit he had picked up over the years. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Nai'shee. I apologize for startling you. It was not my intent."

He released her hand, frowning slightly as she asked him whether or not he would sign. "I'm still considering it," he said. "I'm not much of a fighter...I suppose I've never given it much thought before. But I can see why having some sort of combat training might be useful in today's world." He also didn't want to be part of anything that might grow to become illegal, but considering this project had been vetted by the leader of Zeltiva herself, he supposed there was no danger of that.

The memory of his death suddenly returned to him, and his eyes darkened somewhat as he looked at Trente, his fingers loosely curling into a fist as he remembered the sword that descended on him. He had died in a battle. Died honorably, yes, defending a friend, but not as a warrior. It was an unpleasant memory, not one he dwelt on often.

...Yes, perhaps some sort of martial training would be in order. Never let it be said that Satevis didn't learn from his mistakes.

"...I think I will, though," he said, turning back towards Nai'shee and offering her a smile as the dark expression left his face. "But like you, I'll wait for this line to pass. As to your second question, I came to Zeltiva about five years ago, but stayed only for a short while. I returned two days ago. What about you?"