FinalHavenLarp.com

The tiny remains of the city were covered in a thick blanket of white powder. Cold, and wet it clung like saliva to the bottoms of the worker’s feet. Work continued though, even during the heart of Lady Winter herself. A couple of dozen masons, worked feverishly among several carpenters.

They were busy building a stone building with a tall bell tower that was open at the top. A huge roaring fireplace on one wall was being set with mortar. Ropes and chains dangled from the half finished construction. The bell tower stairs looked like marble, cut tightly and placed first, with the rest build up around it.

Abaddon stood with his cloak wrapped around his shoulders. Yazel crawled up his shoulder, nuzzling against his neck. Yazel, had changed shape to a large place spider. The painted man watched carefully, as a group of dwarves carefully moved the bell into it’s place. They winched it up the side of the structure, using an advanced set of block and tackles that Abaddon was not familiar with.

The small keep,inn, belltower was being build for Ingram, directed by King Galen himself. Abaddon, as Galen’s Archanomach, was here to make sure that nothing untoward went during the construction. Since there were plenty of stones and ruins this far out from the city proper, which was actually quite a long way away, the building was going fine. The Standard of King Galen was already strung into place above the doors.
Abaddon gave specific instructions to the little dwarves regarding the construction of what would become his laboratory. It was there he intended to unfold the mysteries of the ancient gates. Mistrallia, the home land of the lost, was with in reach. Simple logic states that one of these portals would connect. And Abaddon would do that no matter how long it takes.

Of course he was going to have to help rebuild the shatter home of Haven. The refugees were coming. He’d met them in the cave. Some of them were good people who just needed a home when there was nothing else. Mohdri had gone to fetch them.

Abaddon cast one eye at the building being built, and smiled under his make-up. Everything was falling into place.

Not far from the workers was a half-covered shelter in the snow. The sound of hammers hitting steel pierced the air over the whisper of deadly winter winds through stark sleeping trees.
A forge by the most crude of definitions, but it was a forge nonetheless. Where steel became like dough in the fires that lit the coals like the sun rising through the morning clouds. The heat washed over his sweating face and torched his arms when he reached to the fire to grab the steel in tongs made of the discarded pieces of sword and armor. Fire could change so many things. His eyes burned as he found himself staring at the black and red coals, ashing into the white-hot core where so many wonderful things were transformed. He grinned, lost in his own little world as he drew the glowing metal from its fiery sheath and out into the cold winter air. He laid the steel upon the anvil and struck at it with his hammer. The continued its transformation as he hammered at its sides, turning it. Turning it again.. and again. The metal, so strong and brittle was nothing more than clay with the power fire gave him. The length of metal changed… folded, elongated, and narrowed until it was a square, narrow rod. He pushed the rods back into the fire and stepped on a plate that laid on top of a buck-skin bellow with a leaf-spring at the base of the stone forge. Air rushed to the fire and the glow grew brighter. Fire needed to breathe as well. It needed to feed. It was a life like any other and he nurtured this one, a child of the ember that he had protected from the Lodge he had once called home.
He stepped off from the bellow once he had heated it well enough and pulled out a narrow piece of steel and brought it to the anvil. He pounded the metal into a narrowing, piercing tip and then stuck it into the hole in the top of his anvil and struck at the exposed end, flattening it. The man plucked steel creation from the anvil and tossed it into a bucket filled with other nails and reached into the fire again to create another.
Time had passed since that day months ago… and it felt good to be at the forge again, creating the most mundane things again. But this time there was a greater appreciation of his creations. He knew their source… he knew their secrets.
The new building was shaping up and he knew that the hearth-fire of the Lodge would have a home again.. soon. For now he kept it and its children safe. He was their caretaker and they served him equally so. He was learning its ways and every day their world was opening up to him. He could feel its power, its energy more powerfully than he had before. Had he before? He couldn’t remember… he had taken it for granted before, but now he understood the power and the importance of it. He knew it was dangerous, but he had served dangerous masters before. And now he served this one, and after witnessing its power on the Elemental Plane of Earth, he knew a time was coming when he would be wise to know its ways.
But for now Quen worked to build the new building and his new home.

Ingram watched from a distance as the dwarves finished the mounting of the bell in the tower. Just as it was finished being set upon its' pivot, a single toll rolled across the land. Ingram turned back to the gate; no, not the gate - his gate. A small smile forming on his lips was the only indication of the pride he felt at his latest creation. Any fool could sharpen a steel bar and call it a sword, but this was an achievement.

Adjusting the crystals within, he closed the panels and tested the dialing system. A humming sheet of energy filled the doorway, unlike the last time. At the very least his trip to the maintenance area of the gateway system had been educational, though not necessarily enjoyable.

'I'll have to bring the location code for this gate to Winter Haven at some point." Ingram thought to himself as he shut the portal back off. He tightened the collar of his long black coat and turned, walking toward the continuing construction. Hopefully Quen had finished with the next batch of nails, the workers had been complaining all morning about running low.

Abaddon cast one eye at the building being built, and smiled under his make-up. Everything was falling into place.

Abaddon slowly circled the construction, taking time to inscribe key boards, planks and stones with ancient sigils. Sigils designed long ago to keep out the Shar’En’Myst. The-Lurkers-In-The0Mist. The creatures that waited beyond the threshold, haunting the Path to Mistriallia. Horrible beings of alien mind.

Of course, such beings could be pulled into our world and forced to give power. Yazel was just such a being. He was called from the world between the walls, and bound into flesh by pacts more ancient than any other. Yazel witness the birth of the world from fiery darkness, and shadowed fury.

Abaddon had called and bound this creature as his familiar, as was the way of his Clan, though they were lost to passage of time. Abaddon was their only heir, and it was his destiny now to recreate them. After all, the magic now warped the world. Gates and portals coursed with power and could even traverse time. That a gate would open to Mistriallia was obvious and Abaddon had sworn an oath that he would find that path home.

Here, in Caledonia, he opened his doors anyone that was lost. The Havenites, the An’irri, or anyone who had no where else to go. He could not turn his back on any traveler. And he was tied by the old rules. He could harm no An’irri unless they harmed him first. The Valkyn’vi held each other sacred in their long war with the ancient enemy, the elves. And as such Abaddon would never harm or even turn away another painted one unless they harmed him or his people first.

But oaths bring power. And his vow was part of it. His destiny was part of it.

Abaddon walked over to the couple of humans working in the shadows. Ingram and Quen. Both refugees from Haven. Ingram was the closest thing to an actual friend Abaddon had outside of Andian, who seemed to be missing since the adventure in the cave.

“Lord Ingram, I trust the construction is going according to plan?” Abaddon asked, his painted faced hidden against the bitter cold.

By a much smaller fire than the one in the makeshift forge, another figure sat tending a pot of water heating to wash clothes in. Humming a lost tune softly to herself, Esmerelda took in their surroundings. So this was to be their place of shelter for now. It had been along and ardous journey, especially with those refugees who had chosen to flee the mining village with the scant handful of survivors from Haven. Between the sick, injured, children, elderly and the need to avoid the elves, the journey had taken far longer than it normally should. But finally, here was a place to rest. A place to regroup. A place to plan.

Picking up a stick, she began to stir the clothes in the warming water. There were so many orphans from the battle. Too many with no one to care for them. Since she could not find Em, Esmerelda began making sure the children were looked after. They all adored Orien, but she had sunk into silence once more. So Esmerelda made sure they all had a bite to eat at every meal and that they stayed relatively clean. Not an easy task at the best of times. And often one that went without gratitude, for the urchins did hate washing up in the cold weather.

While she waited for her laundry, Esmerelda picked up a needle and thread and began to work on altering some clothing to fit Ren. A wry smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. Little did she imagine when she first learned how to do all these womanly tasks that she would end up performing them at a refugee camp. She was trained to look after a small multitude; after all she had had to run the household of her father's keep to no small extent after her mother's death. But a well organized keep was a far cry from where she was now. Looking wistfully at the contruction, esmerelda realized it would be a good thing to have a solid roof over her head once again.

"Just Ingram, please." He gave a cursory glance at the nails Quen was forging -he knew Quen's work was excellent and did not require inspection- before turning to Abaddon. "Being referred to as 'Lord' feels...bizarre, frankly." Ingram walked toward a hastily built structure, little more than a tent, as he spoke. "Construction goes well. A bit slower than I'd like, but well enough. I only wish that so many things were not preying upon my time, else I'd be doing it myself." He pushed the flap of a door aside and entered the small structure, immediately sitting at a small table and sorting out stacks of papers. "Have you finished setting your wards?"

Ren watched patiently as the last of the dwarves exited the bell tower. As they left, he slid in the door behind them so fast he had completely cleared the threshold before the light from outside had been shut out.
"I still got it" he sighed to himself, starting the long climb up the stairs.
Reaching the belfry itself he looked around to make sure he was alone. Good, he thought, finally a moment to myself, a refugee camp isn't the best place for privacy after all, and all this time running around naked had started to get to him. But Esmerelda had found him a robe to wear under his cloak until she could fit some nicer garments for him.
He looked oout the belfry's window, there she was now actually, working on what appeared to be a beautiful red and black vest. It had been awhile since he had worn anything so finely made, not since he had borrowed some clothes from Percy after a princessess' father had over-reacted to his presence in her chambers, and chased him off before he could get dressed. He smiled despite himself. Those were good times. He could hardly remember anymore being so young and foolish. He shook his head. Now I'm just old and foolish.
He craned his neck to watch Ingram and Abaddon enter the makeshift building. He'd have to watch those two closely.
"But then, who don't I have to watch?" He spat angrily. The words echoed against the bell. Without thinking he spun his head to double-check his solitude.
"You're getting paranoid old man." he chided himself. Still, that feeling of being watched never went away these days. Scanning the crowd, he smiled sadly. Who would it be? Who would be the next betrayer? Somewhere in this crowd another Corbyn waited for their moment to strike. Ren only hoped he could find them before it was too late.

"Indeed. I have done my best to ensure that every inch of this keep in protected by the ancient tongue. Now I need to see to the circles being inscribed in the floor. " Abaddon says, his painted features not changing. "The waves of refugees from Haven need food and supplies. I trust that Galen has seen fit to give us enough to take care of them." With that Abaddon turned and walked out of the keep and headed over to where Esmereld worked feverishly at the washing.

Abaddon inspected the children with a close eye, and then turned to Esmerelda.

"My Lady, Is there anything you require? We have supplies, and the like, but they will need to be rationed until King Galen provides us with the promised materials. "

*Approaching Esmerelda cautiously is a young woman dressed in full armor, one tailored for a woman. It looks like a short dress made out of leather that allows movement in combat along with protection for both the legs and arm as seperate pieces. The woman has red hair and a black leather circlet with a pattern at the center in silver. She has a shield with a dark green knot pattern on it on her back and her shortsword is currently sheathed at her side. The woman barely looks as if she is eighteen.

She is carrying a tray of food and drink balanced by her right hand and a few blankets under her left arm.

Lady Esmerelda.....

Uncle...ummm...Uncle Mohdri wanted for me to check in on you and bring you food and something to drink. I...ummm....if you need any help with the laundry that you are doing I'll be more then happy to assist you with things in about an hour after combat class. I'd do it now, but my instructor doesn't like it if I'm late. After, however, I have the rest of the day available.

*After she hands Esmerelda the tray she pauses a moment, looking at the other individual with her. She looks at him and smiles.*

I think there is enough there for two if you are hungry and all a well sir.

*She turns her attention back to Esmerelda*

I also have a few extra blankets I found. I have one for your friend in the robe with the cloak. He looked a bit cold when I saw you all arriving. The rest I have on me were for the children so they could stay extra warm.

*She pauses and is still a bit shy*

Oh, by the way I'm Aurora...Aurora Darksbane. If you or anyone else needs any help getting things organized or what have you, please don't hesitate to ask.

Lost in her own thoughts, Esmerleda looks up startled when Abbadon addresses her. Pausing in her sewing, she gives him a half smile.

"Thank you for your generosity. Anything that can be spared would be appreciated, but we certainly understand rationing. Most of us left Haven with the clothes on our backs and little more. It was a long and difficult journey, but we learned how to survive on little. It is very nice to finally have a place to stop at with some degree of safety."

She sets down the vest she was altering for Ren and stirs the laundry in the pot.

"I never did get to thank you for all your assistance in that strange place we were all taken to. You proved yourself a formidable foe against all the monsters in that place."

As Aurora addresses her, Esmerelda gets a surprised look on her face.

"Uncle Mohdri?" she pauses in disbelief. "He never mentioned he had a niece. But it's very nice to meet you." She takes the tray and blankets and sets them down. "Thank you. Everyone here has been so helpful. It is definately making moving here easier. And Iwill happily take any help you would like to give." Looking at the rag tag bunch of children playing in the snow, she half laughs. "I don't know how they manage to get everything so dirty, but they do. I think I always have laundry going anymore. I think this is payback from all the pretty gowns I destroyed as a girl..." She trails off and looks away sadly for a moment.

"But ny no means, I don't want you to be late for your class. I'm sure we can talk again at length later."

Esmerelda offers Abbadon something from the tray of food and then gives her share to the children playing.

*Aurora smiles and appears to be relieved to be greated so warmly*

How is this Lady Esmerelda, after class I'll come right back here and help you out. I'm not the greatest with laundry, but I can help you hang those items up to dry.

After that you just ask, ok?

*She blushes*

Ah...umm...sorry Uncle didn't have time to inform you about me. I probably should eventually meet everyone then I guess.

Looking at the girl not that much younger than her and yet feeling much older at the same time, Esmerelda nods in agreement.

"Any help would be apprecicated. Just do what you can. I certainly wouldn't want you to feel responsible for my charges." she smiles at the children playing in the snow. Seeing an impending disaster, she chides one of the children. "Joey! If you hit Sir Abbadon with that snowball you'll get no bedtime stories tonight!"

Turning back to her company, she shakes her head. "but any help would be appreciated. And a young lady of your age doesn't know how to do any household tasks? We'll have to rectify that." A ghost of an amused smile plays at the corners of her mouth. Stirring the laundry one last time, she picks up the vest and begins sewing again.

*Aurora smiles*

As for the children I might know a few things that might help. I sort of relate to how they feel right now with being in a new surrounding and not exactly understanding what is going on.

You see Lady Esmerelda, Uncle Mohdri was good friends with my grandmother, Kimberlyn Darksbane. She was what was called a Mage Slayer in a kingdom called Silverthorne. Uncle has been a close friend of the family for a long time.

I was brought here from Silverthorn right before the world all changed. I was actually in a training academy for Mage Hunters for apparently when I was really little I began displaying some of my grand-mothers abilities so it was agreed by all I begin learning how to be one.

One night Uncle showed up at the school and we snuck out late one night and I ended up here. I was so young back then I have no idea really how long I've been living here anymore. I just remember being scared and confused, but Uncle and some others were around from time to time so I felt safe for they were all friends with my grand-mother.

After a bit I began teaching the dwarves and Caldeonian's about being what is now called a witch-hunter. I taught some of them the abilities I myself have or could remember the principles on how to do it. My own abilities are not what they were when I was younger, but hopefully they'll develop again over time. In return, well they taught me how to fight so that I can take care of myself and all.

Now with the elves doing what they are doing. Well, they need to be stopped. It's like what King Silverthorn feared with that whole mageocracy thing which is why Witch-Hunters came into existance in the first place, but it's the high elven nation and all they want to do is either eliminate everyone or put them under their thumb which is wrong.

Any ability, be it magic or whatever when used like that is just isn't right.

*She blushes*

I'm sooo sorry Lady Esmerelda, I didn't mean to start babbling. But anyway back to the main point. I've sort of been teaching and learning how to fight and all since I got here so that's why I have no idea how to do what you are doing.

Esmerelda drops her sewing in awe when she hears Aurora's lineage. "You're Kimberlyn Darksbane graddaughter? That's amazing! My father always spoke very well of her. Did she tell you stories of her many exploits? And you're following in her footsteps? Oh my!"

She shakes her head in amazement. "You will be most welcome to have around, Aurora. The stories I've heard about your grandmother proved her formidable indeed. But by all means, I do not want to make you late to your weapons class! I'm sure we will have many chances to speak at length later."

*Aurora smiles and blushes*

I sort of had these gifts since I was little and it was decided between her, Uncle, and my parents that I should go into the training academy is about all I can remember about that.

I thank-you for what you said about my grand-mother. I've just read a lot about what all she did in school. Uncle might know more about what happened to her then I do.

*She pauses*

But you are right I need to my lesson. I will see you right after that and we can get to work around here.

It was really nice meeting and talking with you Lady Esmerelda. I'll do what I can but with there not much being here....well we will do what we can with what we have.