Perfume Wreaths
Restday, day 29 of the month Imaerasta in the year 5102

This log is from Elendr's player, and, therefore, the "you" references in this log refer to said character, not Iscikella.
***END NOTE***

Previous to the scene in the Hall of the Assassin, Elendr sensed this during the lockpicking contest at Silverwood Manor in the Landing:

A faint scent of cloyingly sweet perfume permeates the room.
***END NOTE***

[Hall of the Assassin]
Any light transgressing into the chamber seems obliterated by the oppressive shadows cloaking the corners of the room. A duo of torches mounted on the walls flanking the passageway bravely throw out their light, but it seems faint faced with the penetrating darkness of the room's upper reaches. An altar stands in the center of the murk, illuminated by a single beam of light from above.
Obvious exits: up.

You sit down.

You gaze heavenward.

You close your eyes for a moment.

You lean back.

You sigh softly.

You mutter something about hopes.

You quietly say, "I miss you..."

You sigh sadly.

A faint whisper of a sigh from somewhere above you echoes yours.

You sigh softly.

Elendr smiles sadly.

You quietly say, "I'm here for you, always..."

(Elendr closes his eyes and rests his chin against his chest, placing his hands fingertip to fingertip in front of him.)

Rasping slightly, and sounding very faint indeed, a voice echoes within your head, "I grow weary and weak with the waiting."

You furrow up your face and wince.

You quietly say, "I'm sorry... so, sorry..."

(Elendr's eyelids squeeze tightly together and small tears pool at the corners and begin to freeze as they make their journey down his skin.)

The voice hisses, "Ssstop that!"

You furrow up your face and wince.

You tremble.

You quietly say, "Yes, mistress...."

(Elendr wipes at the tears quickly, though they continue to come unabated.)

(Elendr continues to tremble. He glances about him surreptitously and he attempts to compose himself.)

Softer, the voice continues, "Elendr, there is nothing to do while we wait for Thurfel to make his next move. We are all waiting...waiting...waiting. It's tiresome. The staff...the not knowing."

You quietly ask, "Can we do nothing while he slaughters us?"

The voice responds, "I grow weaker, and even if I were still strong, I don't know what I could do. The others are fading. And Thurfel bides his time. I fear his next move will come when we least expect it. And I fear it may be the end."

You grimace.

You quietly say, "Can we not make some sort of deal with him. For you? Surely he's willing to listen..."

(Elendr cries openly now, the tears leaving pained criss-crossing streaks over his face.)

You quietly say, "Please, we must try something..."

You hang your head.

A faint whisper of a sigh echoes from somewhere above you.

(Elendr shivers uncontrollably, but finally closes his eyes and forces himself to remain still and calm.)

Gavrail's faint, rasping voice sounds once more in your mind, "I have lived most of a life, Elendr. For me the end will be about betrayal, but I will go. You have a life ahead of you. Make the most of it. Do this for me, but mostly do it for yourself."

You flinch.

(Elendr's body sags underneath what would be a great weight were it visible, and his features drain of color.)

You quietly say, "Going on without you is not something I'm particularly interested in."

You quietly say, "You have been more than anyone has ever been to me. Your kindness, a wondrous momento of my life. If I must go on, I will, but for you... and no other. Save your strength, and know that If you ask me too, I will go into the grave to find you, and beyond."

(Elendr nods his head slowly at first, then more forcefully. His skin takes on some color, and likewise some resolve comes back to his eyes.

You gaze heavenward.

You glance at a black marble altar.

read plaque
It reads:
Onar: Assassin of the Gods

(Elendr whispers, "Onar, if only you could help.")

(Elendr pulls his knees into his chest and sits back, rocking himself with closed eyes and grim expression.)

After a long pause, the voice says simply, "You must go on. I would die again if I knew you gave up."

(Elendr's face pales and his eyes open.)

You quietly say, "You've changed my life, Gavrail. I wouldn't know where to go. But I will not hurt you any longer... I will do as you ask of me. I just can't bear the thought of you leaving."

(Elendr absently runs his fingers along the side of the altar, leaning more and more into its shadow as he does so.)

A faint whisper of a sigh echoes from somewhere above.

You quietly say, "don't be sad..."

You grimace.

The voice speaks quietly, "Sad? Bitter? Why should I not be? You will be here long after I go...among the living. With a heart and a soul and ..." The voice pauses, then resumes, "If you do not make the most of it, you and those around you lose something far better than anything I could leave you."

(Elendr pulls himself deeply into the shadow of the altar, staring out from beneath with eyes confused as to whether they should be angry, sad, or spiteful.)

You quietly ask, "If Thurfel gains control, what sort of life will I have anyways... You can be sad, and bitter. But you will finally be at peace, right?"

The voice hesitates before replying, "Peace is relative."

(Elendr stares out into the darkness.)

You quietly ask, "What do you mean?"

The voice asks, "Would you give your life to gain peace for yourself? What kind of trade is that?"

You blink.

(Elendr appears to consider this for long moments.)

You quietly ask, "Are you telling me that you're going to give your life for others... so that they may have... peace?"

You narrow your eyes.

Faint laughter rises around you.

(Elendr looks around him quickly, almost startled.)

You quietly ask, "Mistress, please help me to understand. Either I've offended you or I've hit something close to the mark as to what you have been keeping from me. Am I so untrustworthy?"

You furrow your brow, probably adding a wrinkle or two in the process.

The voice continues, "Elendr! If Thurfel truly gains control...assuming he doesn't destroy himself in the trying...leave this place. It will not be a place fit for the likes of you. If justice of some sort abides, then make you a new life. Find someone to share it with you. I know that there is one for you. And I am not she. What I shall do with my life will manifest itself soon enough."

(Elendr reaches out to grasp the small pillars holding the altar up. He slowly begins to lean out and look around, his face a mixture of worry and horror.)

You quietly ask, "Then hope is truly lost... and all I can do is keep you safe in my memory?"

Picking up some strength, perhaps for your benefit, the voice says, "Do what you can here. Until the end, be the voice of reason and truth. Do not give up."

You quietly say, "I shant, Mistress. I never have, even if you have had to poke me on occasion in the past..."

You sigh sadly.

You quietly ask, "Are you going to leave me now, Mistress? Is it goodbye?"

You fidget.

With another sigh, Gavrail speaks again, "Memories keep us when times are bad. But in the end you must go forward, alone if need be. All I ask is that you do that in your own time and way."

You hang your head.

You quietly say, "I was thinking about that, about the first time you told me that you wouldn't be with me forever."

You quietly say, "And I was thinking that there was something I wanted to ask of you... so I could hold on to you forever, I guess."

You quietly say, "I'm not sure whether I should ask though, now."

(Elendr's eyes roam about, seemingly not able to focus on any one thing in the hall for more than a moment.)

A pale flicker of blue flame glances off the altar.

(Elendr's eyes focus on the piece of altar above him.)

(Elendr gets out from beneath the altar and stands up, looking around with a furrowed expression.)

You stand back up.

With a sudden pulse, the scent of Gavrail's perfume heightens, then slowly fades away.

Poor baby!

You sigh sadly.

(Elendr whispers, "goodbye..." though he phrases it in a way that draws the last syllable out for a long while and ends it with a sigh.)

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