Cayden Black — Roleplayer Guild

Alastair stood, emotions impossible to understand beneath that mask and ritual trappings. He was an enigma wrapped in a shroud of secrets at this point, and it was impossible to say whether he was surprised or not by anything Iabor said to him as he simply listened. He did not even flinch as the boy told him who he was. Boy hardly spoke right for Iabor anymore, he was an old Daemon by all accounts, perhaps this was why he came to speak his peace, before his time was up for these realms.
Alastair moved to the table after a long silence, placing his book of contracts on the surface and drawing out a few parchments that lay in his satchel. Some were letters, some maps, others were documents of supplies and taxes that were all signed and stamped with the mark of different lords and kings. All relevant to the meeting he would be holding in the next hour. Still he seemed to ignore Iabor and his words, not recognizing him in anyway for quite some time. The Templar might as well have been a ghost at this point, no act raising the attention of the old Keeper.

"You are a fool boy..." Alastair finally spoke in a silent and tired manner, still not turning to acknowledge Iabor standing in the room with him. "You would have done well to remain silent, to die with that secret in your heart. Instead you tell me, the Keeper of Contracts, of what you are..." At last Alastair turned to the man standing before him, arms pressed against the table as he leaned over his papers.

"Tell no one..." his gaze returned to the papers in front of him, all a motley mess of agreements he was to sort before the others arrived. "...and get out." He had not raised his voice to Iabor, but his silent tone said all that their was to be said at this time. He was well within his rights to kill the Templar Daemon for what he had admitted being. Daemon outside of Contracts were hunted as much as their base demon spawn cousins. Yet Alastair had stayed his hand, though quite obviously at great mental restraint. "When you are done with this mission Iabor...do not come back..."
The last words he spoke echoed through the room. He would not speak this secret to any of the Order, but the Daemon would never again be allowed within its walls. This was their silent agreement, and Iabor had to now accept that.

"Very well Iabor, but it will need to be after my next briefing. I have a great many things to sort through today and that does not include personal problems." Alastair was not normally short tempered, but his work had almost tripled with so many masters away from the order. The North lands were proving a considerable drain on their resources and he had begun to feel the burden more than most. He had months of paperwork to catch up on, supplies to log and payments to be made. It was not all glamour to be a Warlock of such high stature. "Now, if you will all excuse me, I have other matters to attend to." he rose from his seat with a slow creak of old age, bowing his head to each member respectively.

It was at this point the door opened again, Kaedas walking through and apologizing for being late. If it were not for the mask Alastair would have looked outraged at the man. "You arrive just as we finish young Warlock. I have no time to fill in anyone who drags behind, let the others explain the task you face." He turned again to Iabor as he brushed past the Warlock and stood at the door. "Well templar? I do not have all day!" with that he left the room, marching with scrolls in hand down the hall to the next meeting chamber where the nobles were to meet in order to discuss funding for the Order in return for fighting the demon spawn. His mood was already turning bitter, and now he had to play nice with milk drinking fools. Politics was an ugly game...

Cayden Black Member

The Lost Poet

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