Old Relics
(6 Dec 2001) Thomas and Hannah discuss legends of Lord Explorer Thomas.
(Tom)

It is in this place that the adventurers from House November -- plus their latest party addition, Hannah, the lost daughter of Lord November -- have found refuge for the evening. They had spent much of the afternoon and early evening planning out their strategy for locating the Dark Witch and ending her reign of terror. Toward the end of the day, the group decided that they didn't dare risk facing the troll again so soon, and searched out a place to make camp for the night.

The entrance to the tree has been covered up by one of the travel blankets the Lord Explorer thought to bring along, corners pinned up with two daggers that he and Simon had taken from the Mews only a few days earlier. A fire burns warmly in the center of the tree, illuminating the insides. The holes in the tree high above provide an outlet for the smoke, leaving the tree interior rather smoke-free.

As the evening wore on, most of the party found sleep overcoming them and curled up within the blankets and cloaks they brought. Thomas, however, is still awake and sitting near the fire. Earlier, he spent some time writing down all he had experienced on the trip in his journal, from meeting Lord November, to finding the mysterious run-away daughter. Now, he's quietly working on some maps, piecing together the fragments that he drew along the way.

From the other side of the campfire, a soft step sounds and a girl's voice remarks quietly, "You can't sleep either, I see." It is Hannah, also wide awake and looking across curiously.

"Hmm?" Thomas asks, looking up from the maps he's working on. "Oh, well, it's not that I can't sleep. I just want to get all this down while it's fresh in my mind. If I wait too long, my estimates of distance and so forth will get worse. I was going to get some sleep when I get the basics right," he explains. The map gets set aside a few moments later and he stretches, glad to be free of the weight of the cloak for a change. "How come you can't sleep?"

Hannah walks around and takes a seat near Tom. She fiddles with the strip of leather that laces up the collar of her brown wool tunic before replying. "I really should be able to sleep, since I haven't for the past two days, but ... rather a lot has happened in that time. I've just been turning it all over in my mind and so sleep doesn't want to come." She glances into Tom's face for a moment, then looks at the ground. "Meeting you, for instance..."

Tom shifts his position so he can face Hannah. He pulls up one knee and wraps his arms around his shin, just above where his trousers are tucked in to boots cinched with many buckles, to help support his back. He chuckles softly and says, "Meeting me? Well, I can't imagine that as any great thing, but, I suppose it might be a bit shocking. Most people don't even recognize me. I'm surprised you did."

Hannah gives Tom one of her quick, lop-sided grins. "Well, I'm sure my father must have told you that I made an intense study of all the legends about Lord Explorer Thomas when I was younger! So when you first mentioned leaving the Golden Hawks in the hands of Randall, I got suspicious. Then when I studied your face a bit more, well ... it just seemed to make sense." She studies his face again. "You do resemble the images I've seen. Only you're -- younger." She shakes her head at her own observation.

Thomas chuckles and nods, saying, "Yes, he did mention that. I think he may blame me for your disappearance, actually -- someone else sucked into my crazy adventures." He pauses a moment, green eyes studying the girl, then asks, "And how much younger do I seem to you?"

Hannah considers the question. "Somewhat younger than the portraits I've seen of Lord Explorer Thomas, definitely, but just how much..." She sighs. "Hard to tell, now that I think about it. All the portraits made you look rather 'ageless,' if that makes any sense. You know how it is when someone passes into legend: the real details of that person become somewhat blurred -" Hannah stops, embarrassed, realizing who she just said that to.

Tom can't help but laugh slightly. "Look, don't feel bad. How I was is even blurred to me. So much of my life before now is fragmented. It wasn't long ago I didn't even know who I was. And now," he says, pausing to sigh. "And now I've begun to remember, but there's still so much lost. A lifetime lost. Can you imagine how it feels to remember adventures and journeys like they were dreams? Or how it feels to not remember the faces and names of your parents? I can't. Well, my parents in this world, anyway."

Hannah looks at the index finger of her right hand, where she now wears her father's golden signet ring that Tom delivered to her. Quietly, she says, "I am sure that my memories are not nearly as fragmented as yours, but I do understand some of what you must be going through." She gazes into the firelight now. "I suppose the reason I'm mentioning all this is because I want to know more about you, not just your legend. I studied so many of the tales about you, but I never actually thought I'd get to meet you. And yet, you don't really know who you were...."

"I'm sorry. I must sound like I'm rambling. I just find this an ... odd situation," Hannah apologizes.

"No one here does, really. Time has passed me by. I'm just a relic. Like that old Keep out there, perhaps something else that should fade away, eh?" Tom replies, shrugging. "And no, it's fine, really. I'd prefer it if people would get to know me, not just call me Lord, or whatnot. If you want to know things about me, ask."

On hearing Tom's reply, Hannah looks immensely relieved. "Thank you. I was rather hoping you'd say that, because I've really wanted to ask you about your life in the mortal realm. Would you tell me what it was like? I mean, is their world similar to ours in any way? How does it look? What types of creatures live there? And what did you do while you were there for so long?"

"The mortal realm?" Tom replies. "Well, it's somewhat like this one, I suppose. Picture a world where magic doesn't really exist. All the people in it look mostly the same; no people with animal features, like the wolf people of House December, for example. That world makes up for not having magic by developing machines and devices capable of many things we fey use magic for. As for what I did there ... Well, I lived an entirely different life. I grew up, again. New family, new friends. My life here was nothing more than what seemed to be a dream."

Thomas pauses a moment to consider how to explain. "For the longest time, I didn't know I was fey. I had the drive and desires to explore and discover, but I never really knew why. Lots of people considered me pretty odd, always wanting to search out and find new places or go on some grand adventure. Heh, even in that world, I ended up with people who wanted to hear my tales of adventure."

Hannah blinks in surprise at Tom's explanation of that other world. "No magic, but ... machines? There must be some fantastic devices in the mortal realm, then, considering all that magic does for us here!"

"I suppose," Tom says, "but, their machines have made it such that they have explored much of their world. It's not like here, where there are still uncharted wilds to go off in and new cultures to discover."

Hannah chuckles. "This is very true. There are still many places in Mirari that most folk haven't seen - except for you, as the tales say." Her hazel eyes consider Tom. "Is that correct? The part about Lord Thomas knowing all the lands here? Do you remember any of your travels?"

Thomas nods slightly. "Some I do," he replies, brow furrowing a bit. "They're like dreams to me now. Being back here, while sad for me in many ways, has helped bring those memories back. Going back to House November, for example, triggered old memories." He pauses, studying Hannah with green eyes. Finally, he asks, "Dare I ask what legends you speak of? What stories have you been told or read about me? I'm afraid that things may have been over-glorified."

Hannah nods in agreement. "Probably. That's what happens when the old stories are told and re-told by many people; things tend to get added in or changed as the Years go by. Not that it mattered all that much to me when I left House November," she chides herself with a smile. "But if you like, I can tell you my favorite tale: how Lord Thomas came to found the Golden Hawks...?"

"Certainly," Tom replies. "I do know Randall and Oberia had a part in that, but I'm curious as how the story is told today."

"You remember rightly; both Randall and Oberia had their parts to play in it, as you will hear." Hannah pauses, searching her memory for the story. "Let's see, how does it begin...? 'In the distant land of Annwn, a young man named Thomas, servant of no Lord nor Lady...' Yes that's right! '...and master of no trade save for tramping through the wilderness, followed a path by a stream and came upon a moonlit crossroad.

"There, a group of angry bearcats were threatening two travelers. Their snorting and growling could be heard for miles, and so Thomas hurried thence to see what the ruckus was over.

"After spying the travelers cowering in the shelter of two rocks so that nothing could come at their backs, he quickly formulated a plan. He had seen these creatures before in his travels, and knew that they were scrupulously clean beasts. So he darted down the bank to the stream, and cupped his cape, that he might fill it with slick black mud.

"He bore the weight back up the slope, and hurled fistfuls of it at the bearcats. They snorted and wailed, wiping at their hides, and one even thought to menace their attacker in return. However, a splatter of mud in its eyes changed its mind, and soon they fled - hoping, perhaps, for a new target who would not prove to be such a dirty fighter."

Thomas covers his eyes and laughs. "Now, that is so true, you know. Anything that has part cat is obsessive about being clean. Easy enough to fight them; just make them dirty," he replies between laughs.

Hannah grins at this, as well, before continuing. "It transpired that one of the travelers was named Randall, a captain of House April's guards, charged with the protection of Oberia, a translator who had come across legends of the Destroyer's fortress which reputedly was to be found far to the west. She had been deciphering ancient journals left behind by the legendary Lord Bram, and they had been using this to plot the course of their travels. Unfortunately, due to various encounters with monsters and bandits, their group had been winnowed down to just the two, and they were seeking to return to Mirari."

Thomas's chuckling abruptly halts at the mention of the Destroyer. His gaze quickly returns to Hannah. "Please, continue."

Hannah looks a little troubled at Tom's sudden shift in mood, but she goes on, as he requests. "The Explorer, styling himself 'Lord of Forest and Stream', though he had yet to be awarded a title for his service, declared himself more than willing to assist them in their journeys. He suggested most persuasively that traveling in small numbers, stealthily, would serve better than an armed expedition into the wild lands. The captain seemed inclined to dispute this, saying that he trusted to numbers and caution more than to recklessness, but Oberia wished to persevere, since she believed that they were not far from their destination. Eventually, Randall let himself be persuaded and they went forward."

At that, Thomas grins. "Good ol' Randall. He often called me a lunatic. Always the warrior, always so wanting to put his faith in arms." He grins falters. "Cost him his life in the end. I do miss him. Anyway, please continue."

Hannah's expression saddens at the mention of Randall's death. "I don't know much of Randall's history, really, but I do know that he died bravely in battle. Not that hearing this eases your grief at all, but-" She stops abruptly with a shake of her head. "Where did I leave off? Oh, yes! 'On they went, passing desolate ruins of ancient cities and crazed hermits that spoke of long-gone friends and battles. Thomas's fair words and cunning manners eased them by a notorious Bandit Queen, though Randall could have sworn that they were due to be held for ransom!'"

"Hmm." Hannah stops again, now seeming somewhat confused. "I'm afraid that I won't be able to quote you exactly what the tale says here, for the simple reason that I really didn't understand what was going on when I first read it! All I remember is that some days passed before Thomas joined them again at an inn that lay ahead on the road and Oberia was annoyed for some little time." She looks quizzically at Tom. "Does that make any sense to you?"

Thomas coughs and blinks. He quickly shifts positions and responds, "No idea, I'm afraid. None, nope, nothing." He looks away and mutters, "Besides, that's really not anyone's business to go and read about."

Hannah gives Tom a sharp and dubious look, but she lets the subject drop - for now. Instead, she picks up the thread of the story: "At the last, they reached the distant mountains that many claimed marked the end of the world, which were supposed to be haunted by dragons. In the fog, they saw great winged forms passing over the peaks, but if those were dragons, they did not seem to find any great reason to harass a mere few travelers. Before them lay a great crevasse that led to abyss-like depths which burrowed into the very deeps of the earth. Seeing this, Oberia told the others that Lord Bram had written of a mighty civilization that had once dwelled there, a tiny people much fond of gold and silver and who had crafted many fine things. However, when they came in contact with the above-land fey, who were taken by such fine contrivances, they found themselves so harried by fortune-seekers that they retreated to the core of the world and shut mighty gates behind them."

"Greed, the bane of all worlds," Tom comments. "Can't really blame them for going into hiding. I know of the place spoken about in that portion of the tale."

Hannah ohs! "You do? Well, I suppose I'll have to ask you about that later. Anyway, the tale then says, 'Suddenly the three heard a mighty growling of dire beasts, as if there were dogs of immense proportions prowling within the tunnels, and shadowy figures could be seen far away on the rocks of the mountainside. Oberia's voice trembled as she read from the book of Lord Bram, saying that the Destroyer's fortress laid not within these passages, but beyond them, in a hidden valley within the mountains. Lord Bram described that place as a massive fortress within the shelter of natural stone walls, guarded by fell skeletons garbed in the armor of prehistory. Seeing the opposition before them, Randall spoke first, saying, 'Let us turn back! The Destroyer's minions still range freely about these mountains and we are too few to fight them!'"

"Heh, turn back? Randall was always too cautious!" Tom declares.

"Well, not knowing Randall as you did, Lord Explorer, I'll just have to take your word for that," Hannah comments with a wry grin. She then continues, "'Yet Thomas spoke to Oberia and Randall, chiding them for their cowardice: 'Having come so far, shall we be cowed by mere growling and shadows that might be much less fearsome under close scrutiny in the light of day?' So they began their ascent of the mountainside, dismounting to guide their horses better.'"

"Exactly, it could have just been, say, mice. The landscape was just echoing and altering the sound. No reason to run until the danger is known," Tom agrees.

This outburst makes Hannah laugh. "I see that the stories do not omit the truth completely," she says in a teasing voice. "Not when they are describing certain aspects of your character, anyway!"

"Well, it's silly to run from a shadow! If you spend your life always running and not uncovering the truth and what are real dangers, it's not living. It's just existing," Thomas retorts with a grin.

Hannah gives Tom a mock salute, then grins herself. "Point taken, milord!" She clears her throat, preparing to continue with the story. "Where was I? Hmmm ... yes, leading their horses down the mountainside, that's right. 'But disaster struck then, for as they approached a ledge which opened into a cave in the mountainside, a terrifying creature jumped out! It appeared to be half-tarantula and half-bear, radiating a fear that struck deep into the hearts of their beasts. Their horses panicked and dove off the trail and down the sheer wall of the mountainside, while they barely saved themselves from destruction by letting go the reins. Oberia was herself entangled by mischance, but quick thinking on Thomas's part allowed him to cut the reins in time to rescue her. They retreated quickly down the trail, and scavenged what supplies they could from the saddlebags of the horses.'"

"Okay, so that was one of my more stupid moments," Thomas admits. "But hey! We made it out alive. 'Any adventure you walk away from,' I always say."

Hannah shakes her head at Tom. "Well, I'm afraid things are about to get worse! 'Seeing that the dreadful beast - which he called a 'bugbear' - had a special magic that it must have used to affright the normally steady horses, but had not likewise panicked them, Thomas spoke again of going up the trail. Yet this time he proposed they carry long spears upon which torches would be affixed, in order to burn the bugbear out of its lair. Now Oberia and Randall would both have none of this plan, deeming that they knew not whether more and greater monsters might have ensconced themselves in the mountainside. Upon hearing this, Thomas prepared himself to go alone.'"

"But of course. I'm not about to let others stop me from executing a plan," he replies.

Hannah's voice now drops to a thrilling whisper to speak some of the tale's more exciting lines. "'At the next moment, the Lady Sorceress Nymuae suddenly appeared before them - tall and noble she stood, with a face of ethereal beauty and hair floating in the winds. She had seen them in her globe of far-seeing, she told them, and had known immediately what had befallen them so close to the Destroyer's Keep. Then pointing at Thomas, she spoke again: "It is not your time yet, Lord Explorer. Beyond the crevasse lies a great peril and if you face it, it shall surely prove your undoing. Heed my caution and go no further."'" With this, Hannah points at Thomas herself, just for dramatic emphasis.

Thomas's eyes narrow. "You know, I really cannot stand Nymuae," he comments with a growl.

Hannah drops her hand quickly. "Uh, you don't?" She blushes. "Oh. I didn't know. If I've offended you, I'm sorry. It's - it's just part of the story, after all," she says weakly.

Tom waves a hand. "She and I do not get along. She prefers to declare how wonderful and powerful she is, yet never to offer any real answers. Then, when someone wants to seek them out, chastise them. I'll have none of that. If she won't answer, I'll find the answer. Anyway, please continue."

Hannah only nods in response, not wanting to irritate Tom further by offering any comments on this. Instead, she simply returns to the tale. "'At this, Thomas was wroth, but Oberia and Randall spoke to him at length and at last he agreed that they should turn back - for that time. Yet there would come a time, he promised, that he would set foot again upon that mountainside. Then there would be no secrets that the Destroyer's keep could hide from him, no matter how many perils it should set in his way.'"

Tom shakes his head. "Funny, really. Definitely was in my early days, to have given in to that. Had it been now, I'd have gone anyway," he says.

Hannah gives Tom a considering look. "Well, there's not much left to the tale now: 'They set back, mourning the tragic end of their expedition. To add to their dismay, Oberia discovered soon afterwards that at some point during the calamities, the book of Lord Bram had tumbled out of her cloak and was lost somewhere in the mountains, and none of their hasty searches of the foothills could turn it up again. Thanks to Thomas's map-making skills and their recollections of the way, they made their way back without further trouble.'"

"With luck, perhaps I'll find the book this time," Tom comments, then nods. "I assume the rest ended with me escorting the others to their respective Houses?"

"Yes, that's about right," Hannah agrees. "The story concludes, 'At first it seemed that this would be the end of their partnership, for Lord April had many words for his long-missing Captain, and Translator Oberia had returned to the King with no book nor evidence that the Destroyer's keep even existed. However, Randall went to Thomas after some time and spoke to him about the longing that had grown up in him for the far lands, explaining that guardsman's duty no longer seemed sufficient for his ambitions. Between them they formed the Golden Hawks, and with Translator Oberia representing them to the King, they secured royal funding so that they needed owe allegiance to no one Lord or Lady.'"

"Not the most glorious start, but it was the start," Thomas replies. "The name 'Golden Hawk' I chose out of memory of the House I abandoned, and out of the idea of being wild and free. Able to go wherever whim and desire lead." He sighs. "And yes, I did return to the realm of the Destroyer, fourteen Years ago. What happened there, I cannot say because I don't remember. That's why I originally wanted to make it to Hawksmoor: to find my old journals and see what my last thoughts were before I set out on that quest. None of the Hawks would go, not even Randall or Oberia. They all thought it was a foolhardy quest, to uncover the answer to the Jack of Hearts and the Destroyer. So, I handed over the jade and gold brooch I always wore to Randall and told him I'd return one day to reclaim it. Randall fell in battle not long after I left. I'll never get to fulfill that promise to him."

Hannah listens intently to this information, then nods. Quietly, she says, "Randall sounds like he was a good man. I'm sorry that he died so suddenly - especially since you never got the chance to say goodbye to him. I know that must be a ... hard thing to live with."

Thomas shrugs and says, "Never a final farewell, no. It's something I have to live with and just move on. After we liberate Hawksmoor and get you back home, I've got my final journey to undertake -- what I expect to be my final one, anyway. Which reminds me: I'd like to hear about why you left your House and what Hawksmoor has been like nowadays. What are the few Golden Hawks members like? Who are they?"

In a nervous gesture, Hannah tugs at the left leg of her dark green trousers, pulling it slightly out from the buckle holding it at the boot. "To tell the truth, I left House November because of all those tales I'd read about your adventures. You know - how the Lord Explorer traveled to distant, unknown places, lived off the land, conquered evil beasts, encountered strange people. It all sounded so wonderful to me at the time. Better than staying cooped up inside every day, learning the proper way to behave in front of the other Lords and Ladies." Her nose wrinkles. "And having to wear skirts."

Thomas grins. "Well, the tales often leave out the parts about spending freezing nights in caves and such. Not that I'd ever want to change the way I lived my life. I loved being on my own out there, just traveling. It was odd when I settled down somewhat when the Golden Hawks were formed. I didn't realize it at the time, but I gave up some of my freedom then," Tom replies. "And well, I can certainly relate to dealing with Lords and Ladies. I never could stand it then, still can't now."

Hannah nods her agreement. "I've never really enjoyed the courtly life, either, but I think some of that came from the fact I was so young then. Roaming about in the wilderness was so much more interesting than learning proper table manners or how to curtsey! But I didn't discover the less exciting side of that kind of life until I ran away from home and headed for Hawksmoor. Off I went to join the Golden Hawks and have grand adventures, just like the Lord Explorer himself! Or so I believed." Hannah shakes her head at the thought. "Instead, I found myself trapped in an almost-forgotten fortress with little hope of seeing the outside world ever again. Not that I regret meeting the people who live in the Keep, but Hawksmoor was supposed to be my new base, not a prison."

"You traded one prison for another," Thomas says, nodding. "I can relate. Like I said, I've been trapped in the mortal world. I hope once we clear out the Dark Witch, you'll be able to find the path in life you want to take. At least you're old enough now to see the choices a bit more clearly. What is Hawksmoor like these days?"

"I agree. Not that my father will see it as we do, but I'll cross that bridge when I come to it." Hannah pauses considering. "Hawksmoor is certainly not in pristine condition, as old as it is, but the Hawks and the members of the Royal Guard have lived there well enough. We've had to band together pretty closely to survive. We take turns hunting game or harvesting our vegetable gardens within sight of its walls, so that no one wanders into one of the Witch's illusions. Sometimes there are close calls, but we haven't lost anyone for a time now."

Thomas shifts his position again, reclining slightly to the side. "You've learned something I spent Years trying to convince all the Lords and Ladies of. The House you were born to should not be your world. People from all Houses can work and live together. When you're out here, Houses don't matter. Titles mean nothing. No monster is going to care that you're some great Lord; you're just lunch. Underneath the trappings, we are all simply fey. Depending on the circumstances, those you're with can be as close as family," Thomas says, nodding approvingly. "You said there were four Golden Hawks there, right? Tell me about them. I'm curious to learn what sort have continued on, even though the dream has been dying for some time."

"Yes, that's right," Hannah says. "I know all four fairly well now, but I do get along best with Brionna and Nathaniel. It was Brionna, in fact, who taught me how to use the rapier I carry." She inclines her head in the weapon's direction, where it lies near her bedroll. "It's funny, though - she's so skilled in swordsmanship, but she doesn't look the part at all! Brionna's a short, petite woman, much shorter than the two of us! But what she lacks in height, she makes up for in speed and dexterity." Hannah smiles at the thought.

Thomas glances over toward the rapier. "Rapier? My favorite sword type. Quick and light. I'm currently stuck with a longsword; it's all they had at the Mews. I'm hoping to fashion a new one soon, though. Mind if I see it? And oh, please tell me more about Brionna and Nathaniel, then," Tom replies.

Hannah gets up from her seat by the fire to fetch her rapier. When she returns, she silently hands it to Tom. The rapier's grip is of silver inlaid with strips of mother-of-pearl and the pommel is spherical in shape. Its guard is a simple cup-design wrought of silver, as well. The scabbard is of black leather with silver fittings on either end, the top-most fitting being stamped with the image of a hawk.

Thomas accepts the offered sword. Gingerly, his fingers curl around the grip and he gives a slight tug. The blade "pops" slightly, releasing from the scabbard. He then gets to his feet and carefully draws it the rest of the way out and holds it outward, hand gripping the grip loosely, blade pointed towards the fire. "Very nice blade," he comments, swiping it slightly downward. "Balance is perfect. Light, and cuts through the air so easily." With another quick swipe, Thomas then gently eases it back into the scabbard and turns to face Hannah.

Hannah continues, "Nathaniel is rather the opposite of Brionna - taller and much larger, almost more like a bear than a man. He has the brown hair and bristly brown beard to show for it, too. He also likes to talk a lot, which must drive Sergius crazy, even if they are great friends! Oh yes - Sergius is the leader of the Royal Guards at Hawksmoor. I actually find it surprising that he's close to Nathaniel, since he's so much more serious and a great deal more silent. He's a good man, though."

Tom nods and inspects the hawk engraving on the scabbard. "We always had a contingent of guards there, considering it's on the outskirts of the wild lands. They were all pretty good people, brave. Glad to hear they remain so," Thomas comments. "What is Brionna's area of expertise? She mainly an explorer? Or does she specialize in things like swordplay and is more of a fighter?"

"Brionna's one of those types who knows a little something about everything," Hannah says with a grin. "Her skill with a rapier is just one of her talents. She can also tell you about the different plants that grow around the keep, exactly when the shortest day in any given winter will occur, or what someone had for breakfast in the morning. It's what makes her interesting."

Thomas laughs and offers the rapier back to Hannah. "She sounds like an interesting person, all right. So, once all this is over and done with, what are you going to do?"

Hannah takes back the sword and sits again, balancing it on her knees. "I'll have to face my father before I make any decisions," she says, with a trace of nervousness in her voice. "I owe him that much - and a great deal more, probably." She sighs. "After that, I would still like to be accepted into the Golden Hawks. I know I've never really mentioned it, but even after all the time I've spent with them at Hawksmoor, I still haven't been accepted as one. They think I'm still too young."

"Well, I think you're capable of being one. You made it back out; that's impressive. There was no training back when I was still around. Not in the beginning anyway. You learned as you went," Thomas says. "And as for your father, far be it for me to give advice on family, but I want to offer this: life is short and unpredictable. Don't close out those who care for you. Don't put off telling those you care about that you care. You can blink, and they're gone," he says as he looks almost sadly at Hannah. "I made that mistake, in both family and friends. Now ... now I'm just out of time and place. After all this, when the Year's End is over, I don't know what will happen to me."

Hannah twists her father's signet ring around on her finger as Thomas speaks, but it is clear that she is absorbing every word. "Unpredictable - well, that's certainly been the story of my life." She then nods once and stands, looking as if she has come to some sort of decision. "The hour is late and I must get some sleep if I am to be of any use to you tomorrow," she says. "But before I do, I think I shall write a letter to my father that can be sent back to House November." She smiles at Thomas. "Just taking your advice."

"Good, because I was going to ask you to do such," Thomas replies. "The maps I was preparing are for your father. I'm sending them back tomorrow morn asking him to clear out the bandits in the hills along the path to this place. I was also going to inform him that you are alive and well, but I think you'll be able to do that well enough." Thomas then walks over to a spot near the wall and settles down, staring into the fire, then asks, "Hannah, may I ask you a favor?"

"Of course," Hannah says. "What is it?"

"When we do get to Hawksmoor, don't tell the Golden Hawks who I am," he replies softly.

For a moment, Hannah looks as if she wants to challenge Thomas's decision on this, but she stops herself. Instead, her hazel eyes glint as she replies, "By the way - when you finally see Hawksmoor Keep, you may find it to be a bit worn in its old age, but I can vouch for the fact that it still serves the Golden Hawks well as a home. It is of use to people, even now, so isn't really a relic. Perhaps you should remember that before referring to yourself in the same way?" With that, she turns on her heel and goes back to her own bed, leaving Tom with his thoughts.

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This site serves as a chronicle of sessions in an online roleplaying campaign moderated by Conrad "Lynx" Wong and May "Rowan" Wasserman. The contents of this site are (c) 2001, 2002 by Conrad Wong and May Wasserman except where stated otherwise. Despite the "children's fantasy" theme of this campaign, this site is not intended for young readership, due to mild language and violence.