Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-25828117-20200119220646/@comment-5543592-20200120220702

The stairs were narrow and Cassian and Clodagh had to awkwardly squeeze into them together. The steps were cluttered with books, causing them to trip constantly. The discomfort of it all seemed to be almost purposeful.

Cassian poked his head upstairs first. He looked out into a room that gave the appearance of being larger than the room below, either by virtue of being cleaner or some other perception warping trick.

Most of the room was empty. There was a long bookshelf against the wall to their left, a cluttered writing desk to their right.

At the center of the room there was a man. He was kneeling on the floor, hunched over a large map, rubbing at his chin. He glanced up, spotting Cassian immediately. His eyes were a bright, dark red, like rubies. He had a long face that ended in an even longer chin, and was noticably tall even when kneeling.

Kashya pulled a book of the shelf. It read,

''Kashya blinked at the sight in the garden. Helian. Queen Nyasia. And some eagle... creature.''

"Hm?"

''"I don't want to leave you." Nyasia said, when Kashya appeared. This was good. "Oh, Kashya. Helian's griffin is hurt."''

''Kashya blinked. "Griffin?"''

''She was wary of approaching in case Helian was still upset for what she had said back at the bar. The beast let out a short screech and flapped its one good wing.''

''"Can someone PLEASE get help!" Helian roared. He didn't find this funny at all.''

The Gryphon screeched as well.

''Kashya approached, but kept her distance well from Helian who did not seem to be in the best of moods. "What is the problem?" she asked neutrally, keeping her cool. "M-my right shoulder." Helian managed.''

"It hurts pretty bad."

The pain seemed to correspond with the broken wing of the gryphon.

''Kashya looked at the shoulder, then at the griffin, and then back at the shoulder, drawing some theoretical conclusions. "What about the potion this one gave you?" she asked.''

''"It's in my pocket." Helian recalled.''

He pulled it out with a grimace on his face.

''Kashya uncorked it for him. "Only a small sip", she said. "You might need it in more dire situations."''

The book had been seemingly in the middle of it's collection. A header on one of the pages read, Stories Involving my Curious Meddlers.

Lysilde pulled out a different book. It read,

''Hjalti laid the dagger against Cuhlecain's neck. There was no regret in him, no fear. This needed to happen. Cuhlecain was not meant to become Emperor. The prophecy had not spoken of him. It was meant for Hjalti. He knew this with such conviction that it erased all of his doubt and guilt. Cuhlecain had been a good liege, an honorable one. But his death was necessary. For Stormcrown to be born, Cuhlecain needed to die.''

''It was not difficult. He pressed the dagger into Cuhlecain's neck and drew it across. The ling's eyes shot open, focused immediately on Hjalti. The shock and betrayal in them were equally immediate. He opened his mouth to scream, but Hjalti had already cut his vocal cords, and the Dragonborn quickly slapped a hand over Cuhlecain's mouth for good measure. The king kicked his legs spasmicly, clawed at Hjalti's arm, but Hjatli had been stronger than Cuhlecain even without a blade halfway through his king's throat.''

''"I'm sorry," he whispered. The life drained from Cuhlecain. Blood pumped in spurts from his rent neck and he went limp. Hjalti drew the knife back. His hand was shaking, but inside he was iron. He was covered in Cuhlecain's blood up to the elbows, it had splattered his clothes as well. But he had accounted for this. Grimacing, every fiber of his being protesting, he slowly brought the knife to his own throat.''

The header in this book read, That Curious Incident Which Brought about the 2nd Empire.