1318
Silagrad
The city of Silagrad was bustling with activity as the cogs of war had begun to churn. Men and women moved about the streets of the large capital, each heading in their own direction. A fair number of them were heading on a similar path; destined for the military headquarters in the industrial sector. Summons had been handed out to all those of enlistment age, tasked with journeying to local recruitment centers and partaking in tests to determine their eligibility for the draft. Though Pergrande was not lacking in its military resources, there was still nothing wrong with laying in the groundwork for additional forces on top of their superior numbers already. Those that were exempt from the draft were the workers assigned to the factories and those that were in government positions.
One such man was Imperial Envoy First Class Stefan Borisov. The dignitary who had survived the Fall of Felidae was walking through the halls of one of the many military towers rose up from the steel structures making up the city. His wounds were bandaged and treated, having been taken care of immediately upon return to his home. All things considered, he had managed to sustain very little injury; a few scrapes and cuts from the battle with the would-be assassins. He was lucky to even be alive, given the numbers that were being broadcast of the body count from Felidae City. It was timely then, as he turned a corner into a medium-sized, dark room, that he was going to awaken his savior. Michael Brooklyn Morgan had been in a worse state than the Envoy or even their prisoner, having used much of his psionic power to warp them out of the destructive wave given off by his false protectors. Drained and unconscious, he'd been rushed to that very tower and immersed into one of the healing pods lined on the wall. The intricately designed machines had connected pipes that connected to vats placed in the underground, filled with a healing solvent brewed particularly for espers. Wires ran down from the ceiling and from the tank itself, connecting to a panel attached on a column in front of the tank. Within the glass tube hovered Michael, unconscious as he sat in the water, gently rocking up and down from the continually moving liquid. Wires and adhesive monitors had been attached to his arms and chest, to monitor his vitals and a breathing tube had been attached over his mouth and nose. His armor and clothing had been taken off, leaving him only in his underwear so that the solvent could work to the utmost efficiency.
Two medical personal were tending to a pair of recovering patients on the opposite side of the room. Their attention turned immediately to Stefan as he entered, both of them rushing over to greet him. “Sir,” they stated in tandem, bowing their heads and giving him an official Pergrandian salute.
The Imperial Envoy didn’t even bother mimicking the movement. “Wake him,” he ordered, his eyes fixated on the unconscious Michael.
Both staff members nodded and hurried over to Michael’s panel, each one taking the necessary precautions before draining the liquid. The wiring attached to Michal would feed him a stimulant, raising him out from unconsciousness slowly but surely. A loud gurgling could be heard by everyone as the solvent was drained into one of the lower tubes, quickly emptying out the glass case. With a few move command strokes, two metal arms gently swung under Michael’s arms to keep him from hitting the ground hard. They lowered him onto the metal grated ground of the healing tank, even as the glass door snapped, hissed and then swung upwards.
Stefan approached the open case, his arms tucked behind his back as he leaned down to look at Michael. “You’ll feel a bit groggy, no doubt. The floythil helps regenerate our psionic tanks but it plays tricks on the mind as well. I imagine you had quite the visceral dreams as a side effect,” he spoke to Michael gently. Pulling a single limb forward, he offered it to his fellow Pergrandian, giving him a solid foundation to help get himself up. “I imagine you have several questions. Let me first clarify; it has been four days since our escape from Felidae City. Any other questions can wait until you’ve dressed yourself; you’ve received a summons and unfortunately it cannot wait.”
The two attendants, who had disappeared for a few moments, reappeared with Michael’s clothing, having cleaned and made repairs on it as needed. They laid it on a nearby table and turned around. Stefan gave the man a nod and then turned himself as well, giving Michael some much needed privacy to dress himself. Once he had and stated as much, Stefan would turn back around. “It’s hardly the most official outfit but it’ll do. If anything, it showcases your heroic stature more.” And with that compliment given, he gestured with his head towards the door and led the way out. They would turn right at the doorway and continue along the hallway. “Our empress has declared a state of open war with Bellum as of yesterday. They returned their gesture with their own declaration, followed swiftly by several other nations. It seems the ‘tragedy’ of Felidae has acted as the last straw and now all out war awaits the continent of Ishgar. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t looking forward to it; the attempt on my life has only strengthened my resolve against the likes of magic users and their misguided belief that they are superior. They are so deeply entrenched in their sickness that there is no remedy save for putting them to the sword.” Stefan chuckled softly. “But I am getting ahead of myself. Come, my friend, we have one more person to retrieve. Our dear guildmaster Kenna Terrynhain.”
Stefan would walk up to a door and it would slide open, revealing a lift. He would lead the way inside and then press a glowing button on the panel, signifying one of the lower levels of the tower. “She has been kept in a cell alone since we arrived. As much as I desired to question her, I was ordered not to until the empress had been properly informed about the situation. A shame, as I’m sure there was much I could have extracted from her. But now that Fiore has sided with Bellum, she shall be considered a prisoner of war.” There was no need to detail what that meant for any future interrogations Kenna would become victim to; the tone of the Envoy’s voice dictated just how malicious his fantasies on the matter were.
After a few moments riding down, the lift came to a stop and the door would open. Standing to greet them was Estrid, the Iceberg warrior that acted as Stefan’s right hand woman. She nodded to the pair and gestured towards a door down the end of the hall. Stefan would walk the distance and wait for Estrid to unlock the heavy metal door before opening it up and stepping inside, inviting Michael to follow him. There would be Kenna, her simple restraints from before replaced with oblivium chains attached to her wrists and ankles. Though she hadn’t been strung up, it gave her very little room to move about and completely cut her off from her magic. She had been kept in complete darkness while locked up, the only hint of light coming from the flap that allowed a food tray once per day.
Stefan crossed his arms behind his back as he looked down at the imprisoned guildmaster, a smirk on his lips. “Good morning, Kenna Terrynhain. How are we today? I’ve come with good news; you and our dear Michael have been summoned to meet with our empress. It seems she wishes to interrogate you herself.”
Tag: @Knight Owl @Aura
One such man was Imperial Envoy First Class Stefan Borisov. The dignitary who had survived the Fall of Felidae was walking through the halls of one of the many military towers rose up from the steel structures making up the city. His wounds were bandaged and treated, having been taken care of immediately upon return to his home. All things considered, he had managed to sustain very little injury; a few scrapes and cuts from the battle with the would-be assassins. He was lucky to even be alive, given the numbers that were being broadcast of the body count from Felidae City. It was timely then, as he turned a corner into a medium-sized, dark room, that he was going to awaken his savior. Michael Brooklyn Morgan had been in a worse state than the Envoy or even their prisoner, having used much of his psionic power to warp them out of the destructive wave given off by his false protectors. Drained and unconscious, he'd been rushed to that very tower and immersed into one of the healing pods lined on the wall. The intricately designed machines had connected pipes that connected to vats placed in the underground, filled with a healing solvent brewed particularly for espers. Wires ran down from the ceiling and from the tank itself, connecting to a panel attached on a column in front of the tank. Within the glass tube hovered Michael, unconscious as he sat in the water, gently rocking up and down from the continually moving liquid. Wires and adhesive monitors had been attached to his arms and chest, to monitor his vitals and a breathing tube had been attached over his mouth and nose. His armor and clothing had been taken off, leaving him only in his underwear so that the solvent could work to the utmost efficiency.
Two medical personal were tending to a pair of recovering patients on the opposite side of the room. Their attention turned immediately to Stefan as he entered, both of them rushing over to greet him. “Sir,” they stated in tandem, bowing their heads and giving him an official Pergrandian salute.
The Imperial Envoy didn’t even bother mimicking the movement. “Wake him,” he ordered, his eyes fixated on the unconscious Michael.
Both staff members nodded and hurried over to Michael’s panel, each one taking the necessary precautions before draining the liquid. The wiring attached to Michal would feed him a stimulant, raising him out from unconsciousness slowly but surely. A loud gurgling could be heard by everyone as the solvent was drained into one of the lower tubes, quickly emptying out the glass case. With a few move command strokes, two metal arms gently swung under Michael’s arms to keep him from hitting the ground hard. They lowered him onto the metal grated ground of the healing tank, even as the glass door snapped, hissed and then swung upwards.
Stefan approached the open case, his arms tucked behind his back as he leaned down to look at Michael. “You’ll feel a bit groggy, no doubt. The floythil helps regenerate our psionic tanks but it plays tricks on the mind as well. I imagine you had quite the visceral dreams as a side effect,” he spoke to Michael gently. Pulling a single limb forward, he offered it to his fellow Pergrandian, giving him a solid foundation to help get himself up. “I imagine you have several questions. Let me first clarify; it has been four days since our escape from Felidae City. Any other questions can wait until you’ve dressed yourself; you’ve received a summons and unfortunately it cannot wait.”
The two attendants, who had disappeared for a few moments, reappeared with Michael’s clothing, having cleaned and made repairs on it as needed. They laid it on a nearby table and turned around. Stefan gave the man a nod and then turned himself as well, giving Michael some much needed privacy to dress himself. Once he had and stated as much, Stefan would turn back around. “It’s hardly the most official outfit but it’ll do. If anything, it showcases your heroic stature more.” And with that compliment given, he gestured with his head towards the door and led the way out. They would turn right at the doorway and continue along the hallway. “Our empress has declared a state of open war with Bellum as of yesterday. They returned their gesture with their own declaration, followed swiftly by several other nations. It seems the ‘tragedy’ of Felidae has acted as the last straw and now all out war awaits the continent of Ishgar. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t looking forward to it; the attempt on my life has only strengthened my resolve against the likes of magic users and their misguided belief that they are superior. They are so deeply entrenched in their sickness that there is no remedy save for putting them to the sword.” Stefan chuckled softly. “But I am getting ahead of myself. Come, my friend, we have one more person to retrieve. Our dear guildmaster Kenna Terrynhain.”
Stefan would walk up to a door and it would slide open, revealing a lift. He would lead the way inside and then press a glowing button on the panel, signifying one of the lower levels of the tower. “She has been kept in a cell alone since we arrived. As much as I desired to question her, I was ordered not to until the empress had been properly informed about the situation. A shame, as I’m sure there was much I could have extracted from her. But now that Fiore has sided with Bellum, she shall be considered a prisoner of war.” There was no need to detail what that meant for any future interrogations Kenna would become victim to; the tone of the Envoy’s voice dictated just how malicious his fantasies on the matter were.
After a few moments riding down, the lift came to a stop and the door would open. Standing to greet them was Estrid, the Iceberg warrior that acted as Stefan’s right hand woman. She nodded to the pair and gestured towards a door down the end of the hall. Stefan would walk the distance and wait for Estrid to unlock the heavy metal door before opening it up and stepping inside, inviting Michael to follow him. There would be Kenna, her simple restraints from before replaced with oblivium chains attached to her wrists and ankles. Though she hadn’t been strung up, it gave her very little room to move about and completely cut her off from her magic. She had been kept in complete darkness while locked up, the only hint of light coming from the flap that allowed a food tray once per day.
Stefan crossed his arms behind his back as he looked down at the imprisoned guildmaster, a smirk on his lips. “Good morning, Kenna Terrynhain. How are we today? I’ve come with good news; you and our dear Michael have been summoned to meet with our empress. It seems she wishes to interrogate you herself.”
Tag: @Knight Owl @Aura
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