Quest Terror in Stormhold: Chaos in the Council Chambers

[Nightmare]

2nd of Fall, 514 AV

A wind blew in that afternoon along the Kabrin Road. On that wind came change, and with it something new. The baking sun beat down upon the forms slowly trudging along the Road. The crunching of dirt under wheels, hooves and many feet accompanied the caravan making its way to the sheltering arms of the main gate of castle Stormhold. It was unusual, however, to have a caravan arrive so unexpectedly. The trading partners for Syliras were often predictable, merchants and city officials often meeting with the knights, the council and the wealthy merchants of Syliras to arrange a time to shoot towards. But it was not unheard of.

The caravan itself appeared to be relatively small, six wagons and about 40 people and half as many horses. It was typical in makeup, wagon drivers, passengers and accompany travelers with a ring of hardened guards, most likely mercenaries, keeping a watchful eye on their surroundings. With the city in sight the foot sore and travel weary caravaners seemed to brighten, the guards relaxed visibly in their saddles. The knights, who already were aware of this most unusually timed caravan, awaited their arrival at the main gates and were asked to stop. As usual, the two gatekeepers stood flanking the gates, ready to inspect the caravan. The called out to them, "Hail! Where be ye from?"

The lead wagoneer called back, approaching with a quickened, but steady pace, "Zeltiva Ser! We come bearing, Timber, Gadgetry and Zeltivian Cuisine." And indeed it appeared this was so. Two of the great wagons were longer than others, the covered tarps easily discernible to be timbers and masts. At last they came to a stop at the gates and awaited instruction. The pair of knights began with wagons. They searched all of its contents, checking expensive trinkets such as a gearwork clock, or wind-up toy knights, devices of obvious care and precision. Some of the wagons contained provisions such as casks of kelp beer and dried and salted fish, along with the fine timber important from the mountainous region that Zeltiva was indeed famous for. All of it was checked, the wagons themselves were looked at carefully, the knights experts at discerning hidden compartments such as false bottoms. But despite their scrutiny, the wagons were what they were told to be, good laden vessels who made great distances from their homes across the earthen sea known as the Wildlands.

Next came the people and the horses. One by one people were brought to the elder of the pair of guards. The man was experienced enough in medicine to know a sickness when he saw it. Their possessions were sifted through and for the most part nothing was confiscated. But when the knights came to the last traveler. At the last moment this traveler broke away from the group and ran to the gates and pulled out a package from his cloak. The knights yelped and chased after, just as the man reached the gates. Quickly he pulled open the box.

Then there was nothing.

"As such, we request that the knighthood look over the proposed changes to the law in regards to the Nuit in our city. With the upcoming envoy from Sahova it is in Syliras and the people's interest in fostering good relations. I am well aware of the suspicion the wizards and magic generally have in the city. But it is reasonable to think of the advantages a good relationship with Sahova could garner." Council member Valdrek Vashani said with a dry and concise manner. The representative of the Nuit populace then went on, droning about each advantage and how the proposed changes to the law would affect the ambassador's initial reception of the City of Peace. The rest of the council sat in polite deference as he expounded on the topic.

Most of the council was likely bored, Valdrek had a tendency to go over minutia if given the chance. However, Saler, the kelvic representative, gazed at the nuit hungrily. When it was his turn to have the floor came the vulture kelvic shook his head like the bird he was and blinked at the others and the small audience in the vaulted amphitheatre. "Ah yes" He began, "As you know the kelvics of the city remain scattered, my people are seen as pets at best. Something to be taken care of, sheltered. If we are just given a chance to show the people we are more than second class citizens, we will gain their respect. To do this I propose that the kelvics be given the choi-" The kelvic paused, hearing something the other council members did not, "Did you hear that? There it is agai-"

A streak of light burst into the council chambers, followed by a spray of stone and rubble. The light then struck the top most support of the ceiling, causing the entire structure to fracture and cave inwardly. It was perhaps the quick thinking of Saler that saved the majority of the council members. He hurled himself across the great table, knocking three of the council members off the dais and onto the chamber floor, with them three others got hurled back. But three of the nine were not so lucky.

The great chamber arranged so that all could hear and see the deliberations of the council. It was shaped like a bowl, with a dais in the center, raised up off the ground. The walls of the "bowl" were cut so that people could sit comfortably on the stone benches. Unfortunately the explosion took out a key support structure and much of the ceiling slammed down onto the dais. The room was filled with dust and screams as those who lay wounded moaned for help. The southern portion of the amphitheatre had collapsed, a great pile of rubble stood in its place.

Saler stood and blanched. "Quick! Help me move this rubble! There are people under there! Council members!" He shouted and ran to the edge of the rubble and began to start moving stone out of the way.

[Balian Martell]

Your Words I My Words I My Thoughts

Balian sat on one of the stone benches cut into the wall on the western side of the council chambers. His Patron, Sera Lin had insisted that he attend these meetings every so often so that he may gain an understanding the issues surrounding the city. Only with understanding could they adequately protect and serve the citizens of the city, or some such idea. So he sat, being there since the beginning of the meeting, hearing the different council members drone on about one issue or another. It was somewhat interesting, and he saw the merit of his Patron’s task; hearing of the different plights and grievances of the people, he would in theory be able to approach them with the appropriate response if any trouble should occur.

In truth, Balian was bored stiff. Bored out of his mind. He had been listening to the monotone arguments and discussions, sitting in this closed off room, surrounded by stone on all sides, for far too long. The young man craved the end of this meeting, for an opportunity to leave the confining walls of the chamber and go outside. He let his mind wander off, day dreaming of the bronze wood and beyond, of tracking game through the forest and of seeing far of places. By this point the voices of the council members had waned into background noise, providing the audio stimuli for his imagination to convert into the sounds of nature for his fanciful thoughts. He was barely paying attention when one council member ended his long winded point and another rose to take his place. The council member began his discourse, Balian only paying attention because the subject matter concerned Kelvics, a race that had recently begun to interest him. So it was that he caught the moment when the council member abruptly stopped speaking.

He felt it before anything else. A slight tremor that ran through the stone. At first he thought it was his imagination, he was just imagining exploring some cliffs after all, however almost immediately afterwards the room seemed to explode. A streak of light, followed by a thrill shriek tore itself through the chambers, striking somewhere near the ceiling. Balian had just enough time to throw himself to the side as stone, wood, and mortar rained down. He landed on his side, two rows below away from the rubble and a dull pain appeared on his shoulder from the impact. He lay there, dazed from both the landing and the sudden explosion as the dust and some of the finer particles floated down, settling on his face and clothing.

Slowly, Balian stood up, supporting himself on one of the benches as he did. As his wits came back to him, and his vision cleared he was able to see the aftermath. The bolt, or whatever it was had struck the southern part of the ceiling, causing it to cave in. …Gods, what was that? He beheld chamber, and the state that it was in. he saw that others had managed to get out of the way of the falling rubble, as they began to pick themselves up. They all had the same dazed and confused look that Balian wore, wondering what had happened, all but the council member who had begun speaking right before the blast.

He alone seemed to have regained his senses, or never even lost them. He was shouting something at the others, and only then did Balian realize that he could not hear. Instead the only sound that filled his ears was ringing. He worked his jaw, hoping to return his hearing to normal, and prayed to whoever would listen that he would not lose it. Slowly it returned, the ringing giving way to the silence of the chamber, with only the one man speaking.

“…people under there! Council members!” he finally managed to catch. Immediately after the man finished speaking, he ran to the edge of the rubble and began to clear it. It was clear what he had been saying. Taking the time only to check that he was not hurt an any other way, and ignoring the dull ache in his shoulder Balian ran down to the dais and made his way beside the man. Without even stopping to speak or to introduce himself, he began clearing the rubble as well, starting with the stones immediately before him. He had been wishing for a reprieve to his boredom, and it would seem that the gods had answered.

[Baelin Holt]

Baelin did not want to be here. He was behind on work, he could use a thorough bath, he was tired, he couldn’t care less about what problems random races were having, and he had to sit here and listen to a Nuit talk.

He supposed that was the whole point. His little slip of composure a few days ago did not go unnoticed, and apparently it’s unacceptable to run out of work when a Nuit approaches you about a broken helm. Baelin certainly didn’t feel the least bit bad. If he had his way, his hammer would have found itself right through that dead skull.

‘Focus,’ he ground the thought out to himself. He was missing the point. Ros had told him tolerance was absolutely necessary in Syliras; that the Isur himself had to struggle at first, but that the rewards were well worth it. So the business savvy smith had sent the half-Dhani to a Council of Nine meeting, insisting that Baelin had to realize that the Nuit were people too.

But this wasn’t going well at all. He couldn’t even look at it without feeling rage begin to boil deep within him, and the longer he looked the hotter it got. Baelin had been battling it by picking at a scale that had not quite popped through the surface yet. He usually waited until they sprouted before going at them, but the sharp pain he was getting from irritating the covered scale was helping center him. The half-Dhani felt like he was getting close to forcing the scale to break the surface, so he began to work his nail along one side in the hope of breaking skin.

A prick of blood was just starting to seep out when a flash of bright light and a startling crash distracted him. The smith didn’t have long to wonder what the source was as a small stone came whirling in his direction. He batted it down, earning himself a sharp stab of pain in his forearm, before the world began to collapse.

Baelin didn’t see what happened, but a larger crash erupted that Baelin was certain was louder than even the Ironworks at its peak hours. Only his quick reactions saved him from an alarmingly large stone that, had he stayed still, would have crushed his skull like a grape. But the stone was moving too quickly and even Baelin wasn’t able to completely dodge it as it squeezed his ankle under its weight.

Sprawled on the stone bench, Baelin struggled to see through the dust. He sucked in a harsh breath as he saw the destruction around him and realized just how close he was to having more than his ankle under a rock. People that had sat no more than a few lengths from him were completely gone. Trapped or dead, he didn’t know. A tremor ran through the smith as it fully sank in just how close he had been to dying today. Numbly, he laid a palm over his chest and thanked Dira for not taking him just now.

A shout broke through Baelin’s haze. He twisted around and saw one of the council members running to the edge of a looming pile of debris. Baelin turned back to the stone pinning down his ankle and tried to gauge if he’d hurt himself further by pushing it off. Deciding to go for it, Baelin planted his free foot on the stone and drove it in. The rock wobbled awkwardly, sending a jolt of pain through Baelin’s leg, but with another kick it loosened enough for Baelin to yank his foot out.

The tall, burly man rose to his feet gingerly, testing his weight on the still throbbing limb. It held firm, and without further worrying Baelin hopped down the stone benches to join the council member. A skinny youth beat him to it and Baelin narrowed his eyes in displeasure. The boy was going to hurt himself. Grinding his teeth, the burly smith went over to a particularly large chunk of rubble resting above other rocks. The rock was going to get in the boy’s way at his current path. Bracing his uninjured leg on firm ground, Baelin tucked his long, built arms around the large stone and began to rock it forwards out of the pile. With a few pulls it began to roll down. Baelin caught it before it knocked any other rocks into places he didn’t want them to go and lowered it slowly to the ground. He wouldn’t let the kid go at this one alone.

[Balian Martell]

Your Words I My Words I My Thoughts

Some of the smaller stones already lay off to the side. Balian did not have too much trouble clearing those. However those were only the ones that lay on the outside, and as he removed them and started getting deeper into the rubble, the stones became larger and more difficult to remove. He was in the middle of removing one such stone, trying to dig his fingers around the edges of the rock when he noticed others had also joined in the rescue. A large man, covered in dust and dirt and other particles that seemed to fill the room after the collapse arrived just after Balian himself had, and began clearing rubble as well. The man seemed to glance quickly in Balians direction, and then moved forward to a large chunk of rubble not too far away from Balian himself was working.

At first Balian did not heed the man to much, satisfied with only that he was here to help. He resumed his own efforts, finally getting his fingers around the piece of rubble and finding appropriate holds. He heaved backwards, attempting to dislodge the rock. At first it would not move, but after shifting positions and using his legs, he was finally able to pull it out. His very brief moment of success was quickly replaced with dismay as he saw that the vacuum that he had cuased a miniature landslide, as other pieces of rubble slid down to replace the stone he had just removed. Just then he realized that the stone that he had taken out acted as some sort of support for the others. It would also explain why it didn’t budge at first.

After this realization he looked at the larger man as he worked, and noticed that he seemed to see some sort of pattern within the rubble. Had moved a large rock that that up until that moment Balian himself had not seen, and now saw that it had laid directly in his path. He was grateful for the man then, as he knew that he most likely would not have been able to move it on his own. Motivated by that thought, he jumped right back in. He attempted to work in tandom with the taller man; as he removed the larger stone, Balian would remove the smaller ones. He figured that by working together they might make quicker work of this, although he did neglect to tell him his plan.

Already he could feel his arms begin to tire, however he still had strength left and continued ignoring the pain at his side. He had to be careful however, for if he pushed too hard he could turn a bruise into a more serious injury.

[Baelin Holt]

As Baelin wrestled with another aggravatingly large and awkwardly shaped chunk of rubble, he noticed a small slide of stone over by the boy. He spun his head towards the noise and stilled his struggle to survey whether any harm had occurred. Baelin studied the scene for a moment before satisfying himself that the youth hadn’t been harmed.

Releasing an annoyed breath, Baelin returned his attention to the chunk he was still working on. He couldn’t ignore the stone much longer; the flare in his ankle was only growing as he stood braced against the debris. And his forearm, which he belated remember he used to knock down a small stone from earlier, was also starting to add its own little contributions of pain with how much weight he was forcing it to hold.

The half-Dhani was used to having more than enough muscle on him for whatever he needed to do, but this was a bit much. Either his arms or his ankle would give out first, assuming he didn’t throw his back out while trying to get an inconveniently located stone out.

He finally succeeded in pulling down the troublesome rubble and slowly lowered it to the ground, crouching into a squat. The smith ground his teeth angrily when his ankle flared even fiercer. You’re being careless with your form, he thought, and struggled to remember what little he knew about body building. Don’t let your knees pass your toes, or you’ll hurt your knees. Keep your back level, or you’ll hurt your back. What do you do when you’re hurting your ankles? Baelin glared at the stone at his feet, as if it would either tell him the answer or apologize for being such a problem.

Finally conceding that he didn’t know how best to lower a large stone without aggravating an injured ankle, Baelin ground his teeth and swung back to the mass of stone. He would not baby himself. He assumed there was at least one person not dead under there, and that made the effort worth it.

Unless it’s the Nuit, a quiet but no less vehement voice contributed. He tried to shake it off and reminded himself of the whole purpose of this little excursion to the council meeting. But the hatred lingered.

He shook himself, trying to bring his focus back to the more pressing problem at hand. With a start, he realized the youth had come to join Baelin. The smith could be imagining things, but he was fairly certain the young man was pulling out the smaller stones around the larger ones he was planning to tackle. Baelin allowed himself a small smile.

With a huff, he shook out his throbbing arm and glared at the debris again. He could do this. He would do this. The younger man had cleared out some of the smaller stones that previously had covered a larger one. The youth had chosen well and done a good job, nothing seemed to be resting on top of the larger one. It was just in the way. Easy decision. No cause to hesitate.

But Baelin was hesitating. Stop being a child! With an audible snarl, he nearly lunged at the stone the lad had exposed. Well calloused hands grabbed onto sharp angles and, with a heave, he threw his weight under it. The rock teetered up for a moment, paused, and then began to roll back down towards him. He was prepared for it. Knees bent, good leg planted as best he could, Baelin seized the chunk of stone against his broad torso as it rolled into him. He had perhaps misjudged the force necessary a bit, and the rollback forced the air out of his lungs. He froze for a second, instincts reeling that he was suffocating, before he took one heaving breath back in.

Limbs trembling, he brought it away from the pile. The effort to slowly lower it was too much, he was only just able to ascertain that he wasn’t about to drop the thing on some unlucky soul’s foot before he released it.

Baelin straightened and rolled his shoulders back, pulling in an embarrassingly shaky breath. He didn’t want to look at the pile again. It was inconceivable how he’d be able to work his way through all of it if his body already felt like giving out on him after only a few chunks of debris. So, instead, he took a moment to watch the boy.

Really taking the moment to study him, Baelin realized the boy was perhaps not so much of a boy. He looked to be no more than a few years younger than Baelin was when he first came to Syliras. Back when he had thought that he was capable of making a name and place for himself in the foreign city. A foolish notion.

Enough stalling... He turned back to the pile and wondered what he was going to do. They had yet to find someone. And if people really were buried further back, the smith doubted that he’d be able to physically pull all of the rubble out of the way. They needed a mechanical advantage. He looked around the chamber for anything that might help. The dust and other particulates had largely settled now, allowing Baelin to spot a chunk that looked like it used to be a beam in the ceiling. It was slightly buried, but Baelin imagined it would be much easier to get that out and then use it as a lever in pulling out future rocks than going at the rocks without it.

He licked his lips, wondering if he should ask the lad for help. Baelin hated the first time he had to talk to people. That blasted hiss... Gathering courage, he called out to the stranger, “Hey!” He then pointed at the slightly buried beam, an unwelcome pang shooting up his forearm, “I think we sshould use that.”

[Balian Martell]

Your Words I My Words I My Thoughts

Balian had continued working on removing the stones that lay around the larger pieces of rubble, taking care not to cause another landslide. While the broad chested man worked on the those, Balian would remove the small ones that kept them buried. It was during his work that A loud thump startled Balian, who at the sound of it was ready to duck in case a second blast was about to rock the citadel. When nothing happened, he looked up from the pile of stones. The large man had evidently just pulled out a veritable boulder from the rubble, and apparently dropped it after removing it. That was what caused the sound.

Taking pausing only for a few ticks, Balian to stock of the chunk of debris that was just removed, and was impressed. There was no doubt in his mind that he would not have been able to remove such a large stone on his own. Looking at his companion with some new found respect, he noticed that he looked a bit shaken, as if the effort might have been too much; not that Balian could blame him; his own arms were reaching their point of exhaustion, and he pain at his side had begun to flare up. His hands and forearms had also accumulated their fair share of cuts and bruises, adding to his discomfort.

By now the others within the chamber had began to clear the rubble as well, however even with their combined efforts, to Balian, they didn’t seem to be making any signifigant head way. There was simply too much rubble.

Ignoring all his aches and pains, he threw himself back at the task at hand, intent to work until he was too exhausted to stand even as doubt began to enter his thoughts. Doubt that there was anyone alive under all that, or if there was, doubt that they would make it to them in time. Even so, he continued working.

He was half way up the rubble, clearing some of the debris so as to avoid any landslides when the larger stones located near the base were removed that he heard a shout from behind him. Balian turned his, and saw the large man point at something somewhat off to the side. Following the direction in which he pointed, Balian saw something sticking out of a pile of rubble. Upon closer inspection he saw that I was a beam, or some sort of log that lay buried. “We should use that!” the man shouted. Balian looked back, unsure as to what he was planning.

“What, tha' log?” He shouted back, hoping to get an idea of what the man was planning.

[Baelin Holt]

Baelin fidgeted nervously as the younger man seemed to not immediately get what he was suggesting. The smith cast his eyes about helplessly as he tried to find a way to voice his thoughts. Whenever they had to move an anvil, they would heft a large bar underneath it and tilt it up. The farther away you put your pivot point, the less you had to exert. Baelin glanced at the piece of debris he just unloaded and had a feeling that it would make an excellent pivot point.

He licked his lips and tried to explain this to the youth, “We could use it for a lever.” He gestured at the stone by his feet, “And thiss for a pivot.” He certainly couldn’t keep going at this pile forever with just his own body, even with all of the others that have joined to help. Baelin watched uneasily as a woman next to him struggled to drag a stone away, and a man past her swore vehemently as he pinched his finger. There was too much and too few of them.

Resolve firming, he didn’t wait for a response. He left his area and climbed over to the rubble that lay scattered about behind the pile. The beam had come down with a bit of the rubble from what he assumed had been the ceiling on top of it, but it wasn’t too severe of a problem. Only a few key stones had to be removed before the beam could be pried free. Baelin pulled them out, one by one, as his ankle became increasingly more painful. He was starting to become concerned that he had done more than twist it.

Risking a moment to check it, Baelin pulled his pant leg up slightly to inspect the damage. The burly man sucked in a breath and held it as he took in the extent of the swelling. He couldn’t even see the ankle any more, just one fat calf sinking into his boot. Far more alarming was the nasty red-purple-blue coloring it had taken on. Tendrils of the unhealthy coloring snaked up from his boot, and he didn’t care to imagine what it would look like once he took his boots off and propped his foot up.

But these were not problems for now. For now there were people who were currently buried, and without help they may very well die. Until a bunch of knights showed up and told him to go take a seat, he was not going to let something like a sprained ankle get the better of him.

He shook himself, trying to refocus on getting the beam out. Another pang shot up his leg and his mind drew up a vivid visual of what his ankle had looked like, perhaps even throwing it a bit more purple. Baelin wished he hadn't looked...grinding his teeth, he worked to push the remaining stones off of the beam. With any luck, the beam was in one piece. The longer the beam, the less force they would have to exert.

[Balian Martell]

Your Words I My Words I My Thoughts

It only took a few ticks for Balian to understand what the man was about. He really wasn’t sure what he meant by using a stone as pivot, but the general idea of using the beam in order to help them move the rubble made sense. The other man seemed convinced that it would help at least, and with such conviction it was good enough reason for Balian.

He finished removing the current stone that he had been moving away just as the other man had reached the wooden beam. Balian hustled over, earning him a few new scratched and scrapes as he climbed and stepped over the debris approaching the new pile of rubble. His aching arms and bruised side welcomed the pause in work, if only for a few ticks. By the time the young squire arrived, the man had removed most of the stones away leaving only the smaller ones that surrounded their target. Balian immediately began working on what remained.

It was quick work. They didn’t have to remove all of the rubble, just enough of the debris surrounding the base to roll it out beneath the debris. The wooden beam seemed long enough for their purpose and it seemed to have kept its integrity intact for the most part, or so he thought. It was a bit beat up where the rubble had landed ontop of it, but all in one piece, at least in Balians uninformed opinion. “It looks useable?” The squire turned to the other man, assuming that he would know better. After all, this was his plan.

For the first time, Balian got a good look at his companion. He was tall and broad chested, and there seemed to be small scars on his arms and hands from what he could not tell, but they did not look like wounds inflicted by weapons as far as he knew. Of the mans face, Balian could see little, as it was turned away as he cleared the last of the rubble, and by the long dark hair that seemed to keep it hidden. In all, the man stuck an imposing figure, however his quick actions to help clear the rubble spoke that there was at least some good in him. Balian had never met the man before, not in all his, brief, time at the citadel. That did not surprise him however, in truth he did not spend much time outside the areas cordoned off for the order, so a man being foreign to him would not be out of place.

Once the beam was clear, they both paused for second, and Balian took that moment to introduce himself, extending a hand out.

“Th'names Balian.”

[Baelin Holt]

Baelin breathed a sigh of relief when the presumably younger man came over to help. He really didn’t know if he could have done it on his own. Shyke, he didn’t even know how he was going to do it with help. Typically lifting heavy anvils was a whole operation. Ros wouldn’t just ram a wooden beam under the anvil and pry it up. There were ropes and blocks to steady things and wooden planks to slide things around and probably various other things that Baelin didn’t even know about. Things he didn’t know about because he had never been a part of it before. Sure, he would watch from his anvil. But as far as actual experience on the nuances of using a lever to lift heavy objects, he was sorely lacking in experience.

The smith was beginning to doubt that this was a good idea. He took a moment to study the lanky fellow out of the corner of his eye while he lifted some of the remaining rubble off of the beam. Maybe he’d know. Or maybe he didn’t, and would think Baelin was an awfully big fool once they try the first stone and the “lever” failed spectacularly.

Stop being so pecking scared of everything, he reminded himself as he curled his fingers around one of the last bits of rubble in the way. As he rolled the stone away from the beam, putting significantly less effort in clearing it cleanly than he had at the start, he heard the youth speak up.

It wasn’t hard to hear the question in his companion’s voice. Baelin spared a quick glance at the beam before deciding that he didn’t have a clue. He turned back to the rubble to clear out the last few stones and gave a noncommittal grunt as response. Baelin supposed they wouldn’t know until they tried it out. His imagination whipped together a rather graphic visual of splinters erupting from the beam and raining down on them, stabbing out eyes and digging into flesh. The half-Dhani shook his head violently to clear the thought. His imagination was much too creative.

With his head ducked down, Baelin dug his heels in to push the beam out. The flash of pain from his lower leg was dizzying, causing Baelin to nearly trip as he heaved against the beam. Blessedly, the youth was also pushing with him and Baelin was able to readjust his stance to favor his strained ankle. He wasn’t alone, he reminded himself.

But even with the youth’s help, by the time they had the beam clear, relatively speaking at least, a cold layer of sweat had soaked through Baelin’s shirt. His head felt lighter than it should have and the room itself had a very slight shiftiness to it, as if the air itself was swimming a bit more than it should have. He did not feel well at all.

The half-Dhani started in surprise when he realized a hand was being held in his direction. He lifted his gaze to meet the stranger’s and quirked his mouth slightly at the rather similar name. Baelin extended his own clammy hand and shook Balian’s. “Baelin.”

Baelin gave a slight sweep of his hand at the beam. “We sshould try this out,” he said, uncertainty overwhelming him as he turned back to the veritable mountain of rubble before them. He supposed they could just try to shove the beam under a rock, pivot it over one of the boulders already out, and then push down until something came loose. It was hardly elegant, and they may very well just break the beam instead of anything productive. But something should probably give. Baelin just hoped it wasn’t going to be him that was going to be giving out. Or, Dira forbid, he royally screwed up and knocked a boulder onto some poor buried sap. Everyone died...he just didn’t want to be the cause of it.

With a start, Baelin realized he smelled something smoky. Baelin shot up straight from his somewhat hunched position as he worked with the beam and tried to find the source. His height let him look over most people’s heads, but for the life of him he couldn’t see where it was coming from. The smith glanced back at the beam at his feet and wondered if there was another, buried somewhere or perhaps tucked behind the pile of rubble, and if it was burning.

Was that even possible? Could beams burn under rock? Was the flash that started this whole thing even capable of lighting things on fire? Baelin supposed that, if it caused a chamber to fall in upon itself, maybe it could even light stone on fire. Magic was strange to him and Baelin truly didn’t understand it. It seemed to not follow any of the rules he knew, and he didn’t like that.

He turned his gaze sharply back to the youth, Balian, and asked, “Do you ssmell anything?”

OOCI completely forgot that there was supposed to be a fire from the prompt.

[Balian Martell]

Your Words I My Words I My Thoughts

LThe other man seemed to sway, his face scrunched in concebtration. While he waited for the man to respond to his greeting Balian wondered if he had been injured, perhaps he had been hit in the head. Whatever the case may be he quickly snapped out if it and accepted Balians outstretched hand. When he spoke it sounded as if he just repeated back Balians own name, albeit with an accent. He was about to try again when it struck him that the man didn’t say Balian, but had said Baelin instead. The similarity of their names intrigued Balian.

“We should try this out” the larger man said with a start, bringing back Balian from his thoughts. He honestly no idea how they were going to use this beam. He imagined that perhaps they could use it to dig out some of the larger rocks, but that probably use up more effort than they had. Baelin had said something concerning a pivot…perhaps he planned to use the beam as some sort of lever? Again, Balian had no idea. Whatever they were going to do they had to act fast. The others that had survived the blast were still digging at that mountain of rubble, with some already stopping to catch their breath. There was a notable difference from when they began; they had already cleared a lot of the rubble at the front section of the pile, but they had yet to run into any one had been buried under it. At this rate they would all work themselves to exhaustion before they cleared it all.

“Do you smell anything” once again, Baelins deeper voice brought Balian back to the task at hand. “smell what?” he said, somewhat perplexed. He ignored the scenes around him and began sniffing the air. Using his nose, Balian searched for whatever had caught the bigger man’s scent. It took him a tick or two, but eventually he caught something in the air. At first he could not recognize it. The was filled with smell of fresh earth and stone work, a result of part of the roof collapsing. Slowly it did become more familiar, something smoky, reminiscent of camp fires and….

Something is burning. The realization took a tic to register. “Someth’ns burning!” Baelin must have come to the same conclusion, as the young squire could see him searching for something; the source of the smell, Balian assumed. He too began searching for the source.

Balian craned his neck as far as could, attempting to get a better view of the chamber. The mountain of stone still stood in its place, the various people who were attending the meeting now working at its base like many ants. There were smaller piles of rubble elsewhere, and lone pieces of stone and lumber scattered about, but he could not spot anything burning. “Where is it coming from? I don’t see anything!” Balians voice seemed rushed, as if he was unsure of whether to continue searching for whatever may be burning, or begin work using the beam. One thing was for sure, they were running out of time.