ROLEPLAY

#1 Added by Salazar 1 decade ago  

{translate}

The big, round, amber-green eyes were full of both fascination as well as imbecility at a world filled with sounds, smells and movement. They tried to follow the swarming all around, the hastening, phantom-like shadows in the dim light of a sinking sun over the fertile plains. In the air there was the faint fragrance of wild flowers, outweighed by the spicy, resinous scent of well-seasoned wood, of perfume and sweat and roasted Cratcha buds. The tapestry of noises woven by shouts and laughter was accentuated by the howling of the Ragus in safe distance, who saw their hunting grounds invaded and lost, at least for this night.

The eyes closed very slightly, rosy lips were sucking at the safety of a tiny thumb, the small face was buried in all comfortable, motherly warmth, in the scent of security and protection, and only wrenched from it as it heard a familiar, warm voice speaking up loudly from afar. The large eyes, which still missed the focus which makes a little, larva-like Homin a seeing one who staggers on his way of exploring the large world around, were twitching above the sea of waving shadows. Its tiny arm was pointing at nowhere, while the lips were burbling something like “Sasasar”. But the warm, melodious voice became silent without having kissed round, daintily reddened cheeks, and instead the shadows swayed faster, the shouting became louder, and the spicy air mixed with an astringent smell that’s intensity promised much more than just a hot meal.

Reflected in the large, green eyes was suddenly a blazing, flickering red, the crinkling and crackling noise was drowned by a single, wailing tune which turned into a yell like the tiny, well-formed, smooth ears had never heard before. It sounded familiar somehow, like the melodious, soft voice, but at the same time so sad and painful and full of sorrow that the little, filial eyes filled with tears. A whimper escaped the tiny throat and mixed with that yell. The little Homin felt squeezed at its mother’s breast, which also trembled in an oppressed sobbing. A becalming scarf was dragged over the infant’s face, and the mother and her bundle hastened away from this place.

That night the pyres burned briskly outside the gates of the grand, proud city.

(OOC: That was the only tiny bit of Ryzom story writing I ever translated into English, just for fun, years ago. It refers, of course, to the dark times of Jinovitch's rulership and the burning of the Matis scholars at the stake.)

---

Salazar Caradini
Filira Matia
Royal Historian
Member of the Royal Academy of Yrkanis
First Seraph of the Order of the Argo Navis

#2 Added by Salazar 1 decade ago  

{translate}

Salazar knelt on the hill near the Yrkanis gate and looked melancholically over the town. Did it not look like it always did? The same vividness, the bustle, the snorting of the Mektoubs, the laughter of the traders …

The laughter of the traders? No, of the traders nobody laughed anymore. The town was busy still, however the real life seemed to have faded away. The strong, optimistic heartbeat which pulsated life and joy through the streets had become the heartbeat of an old man, shaky, irregularly, ardous. There were no happy hunting parties anymore.

Open, trusting looks were replaced by those of mistrust and reserve.

For a long time the venerable Numar had not sat on the hill and and gave Salazar the feeling that he would prefer to be alone. A narrow smile, probably just the whiff of it, lightened the healer's gaunt, pale face briefly. Although the sun shone, he didn't feel the warmth of her beams. Disappeared had the brave, serious, diligent Solstice with whom he arrived at Yrkanis once and met Taure – the happy, unconcerned Taure who sometimes felt quite at home in the role of the fool and sometimes in that of the wise, who loved nothing as much as his freedom and who was happy to put on the chains of marriage. Even the guild house not longer gave Salazar any comfort. There he had forged together with Taure the agreement with the Silberdrachen and their exceedingly honourable High Officer Ayronil; but Taure had left, and with him his wife Schnee, and nobody knew if and when they would come back.

Salazar felt foreign and desolate in this town which was so green and yet seemed to him so bleak now. Yrkanis – all of Atys – had been robbed of its innocence; robbed by the promises of the Gods who assured the homins of their omnipotence and were able to wake, nevertheless, only the base in them: greed, hatred, envy, immoderate pride and the repulsive desire to kill the kin. For fame and honour homins were murdered who sat begging and defenceless on the road's edge or – for faith or living - digged the grounds; how heroic was this, and which kind of honour was due to the murderer?

Fame and honour also to those who, to protect their own skin, meandered between those whose victory seemed more likely at any given time. What began as the harmless struggle about the most splendid sacred buildings and then expanded on skirmish, ended as a dogged, bloody campaign about supremacy. Forgotten all comradry and friendship, forgotten all what separates the Homin from the Kitin. Sorenal, the wanderer, had despaired; and he had gone the last of his long ways, to the countries which lay far from our sphere to a place where the petty divinities Ma-Duk and Jena have no power. Salazar had seen how bloodlust and hunger for power clouded the eyes of some Kamists, while the number of the Karavan decreased. Lower was the futile faith of the Karavaneers in the infallibility of their divinity which kept the blind fanaticism of their opponents burning. Lower was also their pride and their ambition, so it appeared to Salazar; only their honour was their shield: higher than the value which the Karavan ambassadors were able to indicate, higher than the honour which Jena called as an offering for herself, and much higher than that form of honour which some Kamists cut as a notch in their sword handle. Salazar could heal only those - rough-and-ready - which fell on the side of the Karavan; however, while he pumped life into their earthly substance, he felt that there were other, deeper wounds from which nobody could recover soon, wounds his magic was powerless against.

And thus the heap became smaller and smaller, and sometimes Salazar sat alone in the heavily guarded Karavan camp in the Almati Woods and looked at those Kamists which wandered around like stag hounds or Gingos before its entrance, waiting for their prey.

The Karavaneer were defeated in that tough struggle. Ma-Duk's disciples won a battle. However, the true losers were the Homins; since only fools can still see lighthearted into the opponent's face without asking themselves what the other might have done during that war. And the grief is not – cannot be over; since the victorious still want more, and the defeated cannot do without what remained to them. And the Gods – the omnipotent Gods – they have licked blood, and they will not desist from moving Homins like amber pawns about a chess board which Atys is to them.

However, the chess board is dashed to shivers, it lies only in fragments before them.

Could Salazar still watch himself in the mirror without feeling guilty? How pure was his conscience – how pure could it be, as no "God" could grace him absolution? But nevertheless, he was contented that he could see the Kamists and the Karavaneer openly in the face because he had struggled with his demons.

(OOC: Inspired by Suibom. I thought it would be nice to collect my "biographical" writings here, translated into English, so that everybody interested learns fragments of Salazar's past. This was my very first posting, I think, shortly after the Temple Wars. This posting dated November 18th, 2005.

And sorry for my English. The texts loose charm in translation, I'm afraid.)

Last edited by Salazar (1 decade ago)

---

Salazar Caradini
Filira Matia
Royal Historian
Member of the Royal Academy of Yrkanis
First Seraph of the Order of the Argo Navis

#3 Added by Salazar 1 decade ago  

{translate}

The honey colored amber stone gleamed softly in the long, slender, pale fingers of the lanky Matis. Gently it glided back in the bowl filled with its cousins. Salazar loved the warmth suggested by amber; a glow which had nothing to do with the nervous fire of other gems. He loved the ease of the fossil resin, its smell, the feeling to hold it in the hand. It gave him consolation if he felt lonesome. Sometimes he fancied the thought that his heart is an amber stone like this. Just when cold threatened to seize him once again he wished for these warm lights here to expel the darkness which threw long shadows on his soul. Like now as his brooding temperament surpressed the cheerfulness – the flight of cheerfulness – which he had felt at the rescue of Collix.

Salazar's gaze meandered through the guild hall. The walls were decorated with souvenirs from the glorious history of the Malignus Germanitas; precious armory, mighty Kitin shells, weapons in every conceivable form could be found here. The storehouses were filled to the brim with precious goods which were gathered or manufactured by prospectors, hunters and craftsmen. But it all slowly gathered dust. Salazar did not have the leisure, nor the energy to remove it. Seldomly someone else but him entered the guild house. The temple wars had thinned out the rows of the Malignus Germanitas; the decision for neutrality had brought restrictions, and the loss of any possibility to take over an outpost and get access to rare materials had helped the guild's downfall. Now Salazar was less the speaker of a prospering guild but the custodian of one in liquidation. Gortax and Steinbocktom had left Atys, Asgad had resigned, Leara had joined a Karavan guild; Ryzzonn would most likely join a guild which was close to the Kami.

The size of the hall in which Salazar stood, its emptiness threatened to crush him. He stroked a strand of hair out of his narrow face, let the green eyes wander through the room and then went slowly to the carved wooden table over which he had spread out his parchments: personal notes, copies of documents from the archives of friendly guilds, palindromes, spells, riddles, sketches which he had manufactured during walks, draught contracts … A plethora of manuscripts was allocated there.

Salazar sighed. Actually, he enjoyed to deal with problems to hold his mind in incessant movement – it deflected him from his melancholy which had already been a companion of his youth. Like maybe all Matis he was not lacking in vanity. He liked to see himself in the role of the smooth rhetorician, the self-controlled, almost clinical observer. Maybe the world around him was just another riddle for him like those which lay under the scrolls on the table, a mind game only awaiting solution.

If he only could bring clarity into all these matters. What was the mystery of Oda the shaman and his shadowy „dark disciples“ which had threatened Collix and his sister Yola? Which secret was hidden in the recipe, and where did that spirit of that proud warrior come from which sometimes took possession of Yola? What meant the prophecy of the strange Zorai witch who had prepared the remedy? One of Oda's followers had murmured the same.

And then there were there the problems which would maybe have an influence on the destiny of all of Atys. At the moment Atys, on the whole, was a relatively peaceful world, even if rumour-wise the Kitin used the calm complacency of the Homins to prepare a new invasion. Now and then there were attempts to gain outposts by force, by skirmish or attrition; some used the devious paths of intrigue, other the prickly way of a brief, obscure community of purpose. Guilds developed their economic power sometimes only in preparation for other military intentions. Alliances were strained up to tearing. At best thoughtless, at worst coldly calculating Homins fired the hatred between the religions, the nations, the guilds. Arrogance and complacency paved an injurious way for bitter fruits. Sometimes when ignorance, arrogance, maybe stupidity coloured the polemics of a Homin, Salazar felt tempted to pour out his biting mockery over the originator with chilling calmness. Instead, he clenched his teeth, smiled – and stayed quiet. Bitter truth one saves for narrow friends if one stands in diplomatic services. Salazar would never have deprived itself of the dignity which is entitled to such an office, and he woulkd have rather bitten off his tongue than to do damage to his guild and its reputation.

And as if all these things had not been enough to buzz inside the Matis' head, there were, in addition, still many small, personal questions which raised their voice and with vehemence over and over again now and then and drowned the thunder of horns and the luring of flutes of international politics. The worries about the guild occupied him of course perpetually, and because of his sense of duty he tried to keep everything in order for the return of Taure to whom he swore his loyalty.

He also thought about the soul tortures his friend Ayronil obviously suffered every now and then: Matis by birth like Salazar carried their heart not on their tongue. However, Salazar felt the loneliness of Ayronil because he was familiar with the sensation.

Rhythmically Salazar's fingers played an inaudible melody on the heavy wooden table, while he gazed into an infinite distance.

Finally the one-eyed Zorai with the destroyed mask which he had met once – how was his name? Yachalis? So horrific the visible scars were, so deep were the scars on his mind. Which mystery was hidden behind the barbaric ritual the Kami performed on him?

Incessantly Salazars thoughts circled around such questions. They interested him because Homins interested him; they moved him because he shared their grief. But they steered him also from from himself – from his own recollections, his own personal fears, his own soul torment.

With one sighing Salazar closed his eyes, listening to the darkness inside him, and a moment later he was in deep sleep.

Picture: Yachalis by Sak/CanadianRainwater


(OOC: This refers to the abduction and release of Collix, landlord of the tavern in Pyr. There Salazar also met the gloomy Yachalis (pictured) for the first time. Around that time, Salazar also was assessor of the "Stimme der Vernunft" (Voice of Reason), a peace-loving, partly pacifistic alliance of which Chanchey Breggan's The Free Souls were also part. Some of the guilds there formed the Alliance of the Four, which then left the Stimme der Vernunft for less reasonable purposes.

The fragment was originally published January 13th, 2006.)

Last edited by Salazar (1 decade ago)

---

Salazar Caradini
Filira Matia
Royal Historian
Member of the Royal Academy of Yrkanis
First Seraph of the Order of the Argo Navis

#4 Added by Salazar 1 decade ago  

{translate}

Not a sound to hear - not a sound but the murmur of waves stroking the coast very softly, and the distant rushing of a waterfall on the horizon. After the murder of Still Wyler Salazar - agitated, angry with himself - had searched and found this orphan island on which there not even lived a lost Izam. Secretly he had cursed himself because he was not there when Wyler was murdered, when the maybe most drastic incident took place since the return from the prime roots. However, the Nexus was not really accessible to him - alone and on foot he would not have been able to make it there, to a region which was foreign to him and about whom he did not know a lot. Salazar felt useless, superfluous; a diplomat without a parquet. One of the personalities most respected by him on Atys had died, the consequences on the hominkind were not to be seen yet - and he had not been there, could not prevent or at least try to prevent it, could not contribute to the clarification - but had to read the public notices or reports by other Homins which had been there.

As always when frustrated, Salazar shrinked into himself. The loneliness which he chosed was maybe only a symbol for the emptiness inside. He could not help himself; how could he arrogate the want to help others? Ayronil, caught in a cyclone of emotions, or Chanchey and his other Tryker friends, who must have been shattered by Wyler's death? And how much worth had his tempering words which had tried to decrease the aggressions between the power blocs, between groups, between guilds? The Jünger Jenas had attacked Kamists in Pyr and thus abandoned all ideals which they had represented once as members of the honourable Stimme der Vernunft (Voice of Reason): more still, they had involved even the Silberdrachen in skirmish. There as well Salazar had not been present to stand by his friends; there as well he had failed towards Ayronil.

With a light movement of his arm he flung a piece of bark above the cliff edge in the sea. It had started to rain again, and the water running down Salazar's face and over his eyes tasted salty. Oblivious of all around he stared in the blue, hardly perceiving his surroundings ... and winced when a familiar voice said suddenly beside him: "Beautiful, isn't it?". Salazar greeted only scarcely. Was it not evident that he wanted to be alone? But the other voice did not go away. It was unconstrained and cheerful; it told him that he is to blame for nothing, that he thinks too much about others and not enough about himself; it shot gaps in his bulwark of ice, and while this bastion melted, there Salazar clearly felt, too clearly, how much he craved for warmth - for nearness, for a voice whispering softly into his ear. Salazar forgot his brooding and gave itself to the moment. And he remembered how it is to be happy.

(OOC: A situation happening shortly after the murder of Still Wyler. Posted on April 13th, 2006.)

Edited 4 times | Last edited by Salazar (1 decade ago)

---

Salazar Caradini
Filira Matia
Royal Historian
Member of the Royal Academy of Yrkanis
First Seraph of the Order of the Argo Navis

#5 Added by Salazar 1 decade ago  

{translate}

Liberty - equality - sharing ... these are sublime words.

However, how empty they are if not the right thought is behind it.

But Still Wyler stood for them all - with his whole heart and reason.

Did he not fight for freedom?
He stood at Yrkanis' side to release our country from the chains of Jinovitch.
With his last breath of life he signed for the liberty of faith.

Equality ... It was Still Wyler which wrote the basis of the Charta of Fundamental Rights.
And it was he who made sure that there is no more slavery on Atys.

Sharing ... Generously he shared his wisdom with all nations, while he respected the borders which they own.

Still Wyler had great qualities, and who follows in his heels has to fill in very big boots - a heavy burden and a great inheritance.

Since that for which he stood for is something for which we all should strive:

To stand loyally to his faith ...
... and faithfully to his people;
To love the friend...
... and to face honourably the enemy.

This is an example not only for Trykers, but for us all.

I bow to a great Homin.



Picture: Celebrating Still Wyler on the occasion of his funeral: Chanchey Breggan, Tam, Lylanea Vicciona, Derry, Kharishan, Evendir, Ailan Mac'Kean, Suntzu, Yrkanis, Mabreka-Cho, Salazar Caradini, Shaly Nara, Dexton, Shinder Salan, Ayronil, Fenja and Legion



(OOC: This stand-up tribute to Still Wyler was given by Salazar at Wyler's funeral, after a walk through the Lakelands in his memory. All attending shared short thoughts or tributes, including Yrkanis, Mabreka, and Dexton. I posted this transcription on April 13th, 2006.

Edited 2 times | Last edited by Salazar (1 decade ago) | Reason: Picture added

---

Salazar Caradini
Filira Matia
Royal Historian
Member of the Royal Academy of Yrkanis
First Seraph of the Order of the Argo Navis

#6 Added by Salazar 1 decade ago  

{translate}

The fire crackled furiously, thus as if it demanded under threats new food, and it flickered with greed each time Salazar gave over another sheet of paper. On his right there still lay a pile of it awaiting cremation. The flickering light of the open fire leaked over the pale features of the Matis. Every time the fire collapsed a little bit and shades darkened Salazar's gaunt face, merely his green eyes glowed as if filled with another fire from within.

Mechanically he threw page after page in the craving flames, almost each of them covered with writings in his elegant, spidery scripture; in between letters by Taure, thrown on the paper with force, or the lighter, feminine handwriting of Schnee. For Salazar each of these documents was an expression of the loyalty he felt to his guild. Every new flickering of the fire flashed across him like a lash; and every flickering loosened another bond to the Malignus Germanitas.

Almost it was as if he used the cleaning strength of the fire to seal a pact – however, in truth he disbanded from a pact which he had made long ago. That night in which other lips had sealed his paradoxically the veil which had clouded his view for so long lifted, and he saw the world as it was – or at least in such a way it had a meaning for him if he wanted to live. When had Salazar really lived the last time? When had he really tasted the delicacies in the aroma of a good Matisian wine and not had used it only to sedate his pain – which was chained like a furious Gingo deeply in the caverns of his heart and mind and devoured his soul unsaturated and wildly? When had he last seen this spark in the eyes of other Homins which expressed happiness and joy of life, and was happy for them, felt with them, and was not just envious? He could not remember. When Taure was there, certainly. But Taure did not come again, and none of the proud old guild did. The souvenirs attached dust – and so did the memories; and Salazar recognised that he became as dusty and grey as the name he had represented for so long, and that he threatened to fade away with it. He had accepted this long as his fate – until a little bit warmth, a gentle touch, understanding, affection and tenderness aroused values in him which he had already forgotten for so long.

With a sigh Salazar rose after the glow had consumed the last piece of paper. He had put down the documents about the history of the guild cordedly on the table in the lower floor, together with a letter; who knew if not sometime again a member of the Malignus Germanitas would enter these rooms? He had already packed everything which had belonged to him – and a little bit more – and loaded it on his Mektoubs; some weapons, a few armors, some jewellery. His fingers trembled when he detatched the guild badge from his chest. He put it beside the bowl filled with amber stones. As on parting he touched once again the honey-coloured, warmly gleaming resins, settled on a single piece which had a shining beetle enclosed inside, took it out and after a pensive glace let it slide into his pocket.

A last time his eyes looked over the guild hall. Almost fretfully, in every case hastily, he wiped with his hand over his eyes and left a moist trace in his face. Then he entered the lift which led outward. There outside lay the world. There were Homins which argued and loved and laughed; a wind which glided over the treetops of the forests of Matia or curled softly the surface of the lakes of Aeden. His body tightened when he left the lift - deeply he soaked in the warm fragrant spring air - and then Salazar stepped out into the world, a free Homin.


(OOC: Salazar leaving his long-time guild, the Malignus Germanitas. First posted May 2nd, 2006)

---

Salazar Caradini
Filira Matia
Royal Historian
Member of the Royal Academy of Yrkanis
First Seraph of the Order of the Argo Navis

#7 Added by Salazar 1 decade ago  

{translate}

"Exploratory talks ..."

Salazar threw the letter from the Information Office on a stack of other documents that had already accumulated.

"Since days Ybers whistle from the rooftops of Pyr that the leaders have met, and that the first speech of Ailan Mac'Kean and the cooperation with the Rangers were topics can be counted by even a lumberjack on his remaining fingers on one hand. Lady Ailan's official inauguration was long overdue, and the new detention center on Silan caused the second. "

The quill followed the proclamation, splattering ink as if mortally wounded.

"Hopefully some of our writers are in the area, if there is something official - because of the secrecy in the current past and the assassination of Wyler a big surprise is hardly to be expected, though."

Yawning, the Matis leaned back, crossing his hands behind his head, his legs stretched out and he rather casually watched his pale, bare chest where some ink splashes could be detected.

"Hmm ... I should wash myself, get dressed and go over to Yrkanis ... This one thing I'm not getting out of my head, and, by Jena, I'll be damned if the Herald in its own country is not on the spot. "

Salazar got up, glanced at the stack of paper on one side and the bundle of clothes on the other and then stepped under the small waterfall, to get rid of even the tiniest dried spot on his pale body.

(OOC: Since all issues of the Herald are lost, there is nothing on the first invasion of the Kitins in the Almati woods, the release of the former Cutthroat high officer Ydan, the first political meeting of the rulers after the assassination of Wyler, or the kidnapping of Prince Stefano apart from this and some the next few, also vague texts, all taken from this thread (http://forums.ryzom.com/showthread.php?t=24115).

Edited 3 times | Last edited by Salazar (1 decade ago) | Reason: Older text found, replacing the one posted before ...

---

Salazar Caradini
Filira Matia
Royal Historian
Member of the Royal Academy of Yrkanis
First Seraph of the Order of the Argo Navis

#8 Added by Salazar 1 decade ago  

{translate}

Evenly scratched the quill over the paper, was dipped in ink again and continued its elegant, winding path:

Your Royal Highness,

I noted with extreme concern the number of search teams in Verdant Heights, and it has not escaped my attention that they are returning with empty hands. I am aware for some time that a member of your family seems to like to leave the Palace without protection and support, which is undoubtedly a cause for concern. Also, given the time and apparently fruitless search in the absence of His Majesty, I share your concern, and gladly offer to put the Royal Herald in your service. Should you wish to use our newspaper as a mouthpiece for an urgent call, it is at your disposal. We would, however, not publish anything on this matter which is not in your interest. I'm going to hold back in any case the printing of the paper for one day, and then I will, if you prefer, publish a regular edition with no reference to the happenings mentioned above.

Please let me know how I can be useful to you; not only the Herald but all my gifts are at your disposal.

Always your servant,

Salazar Caradini

Salazar sprinkled the paper with sawdust, then carefully folded it, sealed it and gave it to a messenger. Then he sat back down on the hill and watched as the messenger brought the letter to the palace. Now he could not do more but wait ...

(OOC: Here the first references to the kidnapping of Stevano in a letter to the Queen. Originally posted July 13th, 2006)

---

Salazar Caradini
Filira Matia
Royal Historian
Member of the Royal Academy of Yrkanis
First Seraph of the Order of the Argo Navis

#9 Added by Salazar 1 decade ago  

{translate}

I do not think there is a reason to mock our people. It is the prerogative of youth to be reckless, and no matter how magnificent the cage there is no Izam who does not want to escape it. If anything at all one could blame the prince of negligence in the study of the history of Atys in which similar incidents are thoroughly recorded.

Regarding the audacity of the kidnappers I have expressed myself elsewhere. Yes, we are - to a certain extent - be susceptible to blackmail. But our country is able to ripen children who have the will and the strength to meet these requirements, and it allows women and men to grow who are able to deploy the seeds of friendly love in other homins, so that not only Matis, but residents from all over Atys try to help us save the prince. Although it is not the intention of the kidnappers, they teach us and all Atys a lesson: a lesson in decency and morality, humility and pride, friendship and responsibility. Failure to act would mean to be irresponsible and immoral, arrogant and selfish. To the fool the bells on his own hat are the whole world.

(OOC: The commentary above was a reply to public remarks of Mikira, Head of Matis guild Corobie Margus, which criticized the "irresponsibility" of teenage Prince Stevano. I think it was probably also published in the Royal Herald, but I can't remember. In the forums it appeared on July 15th, 2006, two days after the Queen gave a public statement which was announced both in the Herald and in the forums regarding the abduction of Stevano.)

---

Salazar Caradini
Filira Matia
Royal Historian
Member of the Royal Academy of Yrkanis
First Seraph of the Order of the Argo Navis

#10 Added by Salazar 1 decade ago  

{translate}

We can indeed be proud of the homins which put in so much effort (and successfully, too) to meet the first requirement of the kidnappers. They were mostly - but not exclusively - citizens of our beautiful country, which have shed sweat and tears and blood to save the life of the heir, but from New Trykoth and from the desert I saw supporters as well, clearly not only Karavaneer, but neutrals like the Free Souls of Chanchey Breggan, or Kamists like Ayronil, who lost his loyal packer on his lonely, arduous journey from Pyr. The materials, luckily, were recovered. But above all, not only Ayronil's hard work deserves respect, but also the fact that he spared neither economic loss, nor the danger of losing his own life to help saving our country and our precious prince from the threat of the villains. My eternal thanks go to him, go to all the helpers from other countries particularly. I am sure that the Royal Family appreciates this help as well and will express this appreciation at the appropriate time.

The second requirement we could accomplish under the lead of the Commander of the Royal Guard, Villi Frechini. The beast was slain, and the proof will be handed over to the kidnappers by Villi this evening. Then waits a third and final task for us, the content we do not know yet. I am sure that we can meet that task together. And when the prince is free and the danger is hopefully averted from our land, then we can not only look back with pride at our achievement, but also at our friends who have shown side by side with us that magnitude is not only a measure for size but also for noble character.

Respectfully ,

Salazar Caradini
Editor of The Royal Herald


Picture: Stachini, the abductor of Prince Stevano, collecting his ransom in Davae. Villi Frechini to the left.





(OOC: Open letter regarding the first and second requirements from the kidnappers. The first required a large amount of materials, the second the slaying of some boss. To my knowledge, the players on Arispotle failed on the second, which suprised me a lot. This piece was posted July 16th, 2006.)

Edited 2 times | Last edited by Salazar (1 decade ago)

---

Salazar Caradini
Filira Matia
Royal Historian
Member of the Royal Academy of Yrkanis
First Seraph of the Order of the Argo Navis

#11 Added by Salazar 1 decade ago  

{translate}

Fiercely raged a fire in Salazar. It consumed his dreams and hopes of a peaceful New Matia, and nourished it was by irrepressible anger at those who had begun to cover the land after a period of peace with war and destruction, to soak the soil with blood and the air over the green forests and glades with the stench of burnt flesh. Blood is not a good fertilizer. The fruits that grow in such a soil are bitter and poisonous. Hate, too, is not a good fertilizer, for it makes the plants to grow eccentric - not just in height, but they are crooked, or they creep along the ground. These plants never bloom. They delight no eye, no animal feeds on them, they serve no purpose. However, with time their roots dig deeper and deeper into the once fertile soil, so deep that no one can remove them anymore, and the fruits make those who eat them as bitter and poisonous as they themselves are, and crippled from base feelings those victims sneak around as if they were the true blossoms of that toxic, ugly, evil plant. But over time, the soil becomes gray and lifeless, and then these plants root deep in the bodies and souls of homins and feed of them until nothing is left. Salazar saw the picture of a gray, horrific wasteland before him, of a country that no longer offered homins a home and which was finally abandoned to the advancing troops of the kitins.

When the conflict between the Interessengemeinschaft Matis (Community of Matis interests) and the Alliance of Four had begun, Salazar had taken position for the latter and against the war party. With words he had openly fought against many who had taken the Alliance in the crosshairs, despite the fact that behind closed doors he had seen how they withered the Voice of Reason. He had dealt with the pride of the one and the same time suffered under the self-righteousness of the others. Then the Alliance had begun a path of self-destruction - had assaulted Pyr and attacked his own allies, so that eventually one of the Kamist guilds left the Alliance. But other guilds joined - increasingly so, and behind a high wall of silence, so that eventually nobody really knew which guilds were part the Alliance. With the change of behavior which now showed the trains of madness - far from the once postulated desire for peace and religious equality - the alliance had lost many sympathisers. The defenders, even the most faithful, quietened, and the Interessengemeinschaft Matis won ground ​​with a few tentative diplomatic attempts, although no one could be sure if they were really serious. Then Sotbo who had once been sabotaged with a diplomatic approach in their own ranks in the Ally4 and subsequently had left them, became the victim of madness, attacked the outpost of the Free Souls on her own and then disappeared without a trace.

The alliance had taken Wooky Workshop and thus again won a foothold in Matia - a fundamental right that Salazar and presumably many peaceful guilds that were long gone on distance to the Alliance, had attributed to them, and when a Kamist guild declared war on them Salazar was prepared - if it really would be neccessary - to help the Alliance, even though he despised war. But then the Alliance had taken Berello, and it became obvious to Salazar that it was their ambition to cover the Verdant Heights with a civil war that was supported on their side by the Kami alliance guilds. When they declared war on Ginti, something broke in Salazar, who had found little sleep since the slaughter of the Dryads, and for the first time in a long time he entered an outpost with the firm intention to use his modest abilities in a fight homin against homin. More than once he fell, more than once he stood up again, but he would not tolerate that the new alliance was scarring festering, oozing wounds in the body of New Matia, totally ignorant of the needs and wishes and dreams of its inhabitants. That was what he said to Sorenal when they met after the battle lost for the Interessengemeinschaft on the blood-soaked soil of Ginti. Sorenal, who had once been the great symbol of a peaceful, united Atys, and who now had signed with the alliance so unconditionally. Salazar had admired him back then and was more than surprised when he joined in the Alliance after the break-up of the Voice of Reason. The Zoraï had tried to convince Salazar of the Alliance's desire for peace. But it wasn't his country which was suffering; in New Trykoth the Alliance was not involved in the rather half-hearted, but strategically skillful fighting against their own faith groups, and in the Witherings the alliance soon had given up any resistance and deserted their outposts. In New Matia there were no scruples. Salazar's eyes were red from tears of furious despair when his trusty Mektoub finally reached Yrkanis. Was Sorenal so blind? For a long time the alliance had represented only their own interests and the main interest now seemed to be to bring the IntMatis at every - every! - price to its knees, even if the price was the destruction of New Matia, and the poisoning of its grounds.

The Zoraï had also spoken of the development of war-grade bastions. Salazar had not heard of it yet. He studied the documents which he had taken when leaving his old guild, but discovered no evidence. He tried the archive of The Royal Herald and the library of Ayronil, but without success. When he talked to Numar, Principe of House Elantar about this, Numar gave the impression Thlindae, the House's librarian, might be of help in this regard. But the Library of Elantar enters only a Elantar, it was said. Salazar had occasionally thought about rejoining a guild or a House, and he estimated no guild higher than that of Chanchey Breggan, where he had many friends - such as caring Chanchey itself, Wasari, whose jewelry he wore, the Zoraï Shaolin and the Matis Mioncheng or the pretty, impetuous, Thy, and he would have liked to know more about the dark, one-eyed Yachalis and the secret of his scattered mask. But he did not feel himself fit for the gentle, pacifistic resistance of the Free Souls right now, while the fierce passions were struggling for supremacy in him. He maintained friendly contacts with Argo Navis and their first officer Nuvad, and especially to Lylanea, but the application to join a religious order, if a liberal one, was not really up for debate for Salazar.

The Elantar were an old noble house without political power, because most of the nobility Matia's had been swept away with the philosophers of the country under the reign Jinovitch's or driven into exile - as Salazar's own family, he was the last of the ancient family of Caradini, born in the year in which his uncle, together with others, like an angry beacon against the freedom of thought burned on a pyre. The Elantar were committed to the Karan, which Salazar liked, and true to the Karavan, what he noted without enthusiasm, but interest. Salazar liked Thlindae, the bone-dry, but lovable bookworm, and he respected Principe Numar. By far not every political move by the Elantar he had accompanied with sympathy or approval, but the will to protect New Matia was something Salazar heatily supported. Join the Karavan faith - that was not even for discussion. But perhaps the Elantar would also accept him as an agnostic, and perhaps he would then have access to knowledge now closed to him. Loyalty to the King and the Elantar - outside his editorial work for which inner independence was needed - to swear to that did not seem to be a problem. And so he sat down and began a letter which he addressed to Principe Belain Numar Elantar ...

(OOC: The reasons that led to Salazar finally taking up arms and then joining the noble Matis house Elantar. All this took place after the Sisters of Jena helped finishing the final task to set Stevano free. The kidnapper was caught only a few days before this here took place, and during the efforts a camp of the Dryads was destroyed and all Dryads killed. Originally posted August 14th, 2006.)

Edited 2 times | Last edited by Salazar (4 years ago)

---

Salazar Caradini
Filira Matia
Royal Historian
Member of the Royal Academy of Yrkanis
First Seraph of the Order of the Argo Navis

#12 Added by Salazar 4 years ago  

{translate}

A homin stepped out of the shadows who had not yet spoken up, but only had letters delivered. He was tall and slender and moved with graceful dignity, but when his pale hands reached for the hood and threw it back, they trembled slightly. The face underneath was even paler than a Matis should be, and the tattoo on his grieved face almost looked like he was crying purple tears. When he spoke, he spoke softly, but his voice was like that of an actor, clear and audible, but also like that of a wooden flute playing a sad melody.

Don't scold Chanchey Breggan, Razrah. The size of his guild, its wealth is a proof of the fact that there are many homins who do not love war, who stand for a coexistence without hatred and resentment. It is a symbol of Still Wyler's words. He has not chosen a comfortable path, as everyone here knows, and the respect he enjoys comes from the sacrifices he makes and the clarity of his course. He may be wrong - and he is occasionally - in assessing a situation, and perhaps he judges other homins too much by what he himself believes and hopes and is perhaps willing and able to sacrifice. Not all can go their own way - not all can do so without withering and dying and being blown into oblivion like dust. He deserves respect, Razrah, not because of his network of friends, but because of the ideals he represents and which offer a home to all those who do not want to drink the sap of other homins.

Don't scold the Rote Teufel, Theodore. They are a Kamist guild in a Kami country. They're not Zorai, sure. But if you want to see your country entirely in the hands of Zorai, then also make yourself aware: in the course of time you will stand against all those with whom you fight today, because Kamists from other nations occupied the Witherings when your House Kurita was sleeping.

Don't scold Sorenal, Damor. It is friendship that binds the Alliance of the Four, and friends stay closer together when they are despised and threatened, aren't they? You accuse them of acting against their religious principles and say that you are not fighting against Kamists, even if they are friends with the CoMa. But didn't you also march against the Keepers once? And isn't it just easier to see the Alliance as a conglomerate of evil than to weigh and realize how many similarities there are to your Bund der Freundschaft (Federation of Friendship)? And here as well as there are the wise and the foolish, but the wise go unheard when blind hate allows bare weapons to do the talking.

Do not scold Razrah, Galadia. You accuse him that on behalf of the Interessengemeinschaft Matis (Matis interest group) a handful of homins from this alliance fought against you on your outpost. The day before, your CoMa attacked a Karavaneer outpost in Matia in support of Zorais Wachen. For you it may just have been fun because you haven't thought about the symbolic power of such an act. It may have been fun for you to kill a sleeping healer there and slay another who wanted to rekindle the spark of life in him. I don't think of “fun” as the first word in this context, Galadia. But what occurs to me is that you can hardly expect respect from someone to whom you don’t show any respect in return.

Salazar turned his head slightly and looked at the shadows from which he had stepped and into which Mardok had disappeared, and spoke even more softly.

Don't scold the homins, Mardok. They are just as the blind Gods made them, and for every virtue they also gave them a sin. And it is so much easier to be a sinner than to be virtuous. It is so much easier to be a hypocrite than to be sincere. It is so much easier to slay your neighbor than to be slayed yourself. Scold the gods if you want, because if they exist - then what happens here is according to their will.

And Salazar drew the hood over his head with his long, white fingers, hiding his face and the pain-filled, sparkling green of his eyes. Then he pulled out a rune, broke it, and disappeared.

(OOC: A confused and confusing time - House Kurita tried to "clean up" the Witherings and drive out non-Zorai guilds, even if they were Kamist, and the Ally4 (four guilds; two Kasravan, two Kami) attacked Kami outposts in the countries outside Matia to gain ground for their Kami members. The Karavan guild Corobie Margus (one half of the "Bund der Freundschaft") fought alongside the Kamist guild United Homins almost everywhere, and Chanchey Breggan (who had taken over The Free Soul from Keycee) feared - unfounded - the Karavaneer would want to level and adjust the neutrals (thread here: https://forums.ryzom.com/showthread.php?t=26160) And yes, Salazar was still an agnostic. Originally posted October 11th, 2006)

Edited 3 times | Last edited by Salazar (4 years ago)

---

Salazar Caradini
Filira Matia
Royal Historian
Member of the Royal Academy of Yrkanis
First Seraph of the Order of the Argo Navis

#13 Added by Salazar 4 years ago  

{translate}

Salazar brushed the dust off his clothes. He had just returned from a walking tour of several days, far from the sometimes tiring, sometimes refreshing bustle of the towns and villages of Matia. He had made a few sketches, drawings of landscapes, animals, plants; his portfolio was overflowing with papers covered with black charcoal or colored chalk. He threw it on the table in his apartment, poured himself a mug of red wine from a carafe cut out of amber and sat down with a groan.

Indeed, since Salazar had joined the House of Elantar, events had precipitated. A peace treaty had been negotiated with the "Alliance of the Four", which assured the "Interessengemeinschaft Matis" in Matia approximately the status quo that had prevailed before the invasion of the almost destroyed and, to everyone's surprise, impressively revived Ally4. The Ally4 kept the Berello Fortress and thus had an outpost in Matia; a condition Salazar had advocated earlier.

The peace between the once bitterly opposed alliances seemed to plunge a large part of Atys into serious crises of meaning and the desperate search for and redefinition of enemy images. The Raben des Margus had left the IntMatis, as had the KitinFighters, who were then immediately absorbed into the CoMa. The IntMatis supported the Ally4 in military interventions against outposts of the Kamist ​​United Homins and Verwesende Cutes in New Trykoth, both of which were defended by the Karavaneer CoMa. The securing of these trading posts in turn brought about the return of Ginti and Wooky into the possession of the IntMatis. The United Homins, for their part, took over Zo-Kian in the Witherings from the Ally4 guild Keepers Of Infernal Waters, but passed it on to the Burning Tears, which in the meantime were attacked unsuccessfully by, alternating, the mercenaries of the Black Seeds and by the Ally4 - who in the meantime had taken over the outpost of Zorais Wachen in the Witherings. For their part, the United Homins attacked the trading post they had lost in Loria with considerable perseverance.

So far, Salazar was willing to understand the "reasoning" of the individual actions. In the Witherings and the Fyros Empire, however, a bitter distribution battle between Kamist ​​guilds had broken out. House Kurita and the Meister der Kamigawa had attacked the Rote Teufel, ostensibly in an attempt to bring the resources of the almost entirely Fyros-occupied Witherings back into the hands of their own people. The role of the CoMa, which was seen fighting for Kamists on numerous battlefields and in all countries, became increasingly obscure; they attacked Wooky in Matia under the banner of Zorais Wachen after large parts of the IntMatis, who had long waited in vain for the attackers to defend their homeland, had already disappeared. The small group of those who remained there had no chance to oppose this onslaught. However, the outpost was already secured at this point. Then, for the first time, the CoMa attacked a member guild of the IntMatis, which had been largely neutral towards the CoMa despite various encounters on battlefields and despite the incident on Wooky, and thus placed itself in a legal vacuum. Salazar sighed. Were the CoMa really that blind with hatred? And what was going on with Zorais Wachen who claimed in a document - lying on the table in front of him - that the IntMatis had attacked in concert with the Ally4 in Zorai - just at the time when Salazar and the alliance were on Wooky Outpost, expecting the attack of Mao Fu-Ran's guild? And how did Mao Fu-Ran come up with the idiosyncratic claim that the IntMatis, together with the Ally4, attacked the Raben des Margus in Matia? Salazar sighed again and took a deep swig from his amber goblet. He almost longed for a time when the Kitins threatened Atys again, for only then had the homins acted in unity against a common enemy; although he had noticed that the recent defense of the camp in Almati Forest might have seen fewer homins than any battle for an outpost anywhere on Atys.

Salazar leaned back, a little stiff and tense, and stared at an ornament on the wall of his apartment. An apartment ... for the first time he had such property since the time when his family had been driven from home. He now belonged to a noble house where he didn't feel out of place, and he finally had a real home in the country he loved more than anything else. And yet he sometimes felt an emptiness inside that threatened to overwhelm him. And he leaned forward, put down the goblet, picked up the quill and began to cover a sheet of paper with his delicate, lively handwriting.

(OOC: The events surrounding the Kitin invasion were described in detail in the Königlicher Herold and therefore are unfortunately lost.

And yes, Salazar had slept outside, or in the Royal Arboretum, or in the rooms of the editorial office of the Königlicher Herold before he entered House Elantar; I can't remember, but maybe that was the time when private housing was introduced. Originally posted October 18th, 2006)

---

Salazar Caradini
Filira Matia
Royal Historian
Member of the Royal Academy of Yrkanis
First Seraph of the Order of the Argo Navis

#14 Added by Salazar 4 years ago  

{translate}

Dear Omir,

I have read your remarks on the Kami with interest. Yet I don't see old, probing questions answered, but instead new ones asked.

So the Kami are part of Atys. They roam freely in this world, and they rule the sap and ... manipulate it to breathe life back into homins. If I understand correctly, that is an approximate distillate from your discourse, right?

But if nature and Kami are one and domination is not part of the thinking of these cute fur and leather wearers: why did they endow the homins with the gift of magic, and why does domination magic belong to the branches of this metaphysical science, with which the homins manipulate nature? If the Kami have no material needs, why are they charging the homins a substantial sum of dappers to allow them to travel from place to place? (In the case of the Karavan, one could at least assume that the expensive technology has to be maintained - an explanation which the Kami can hardly use). If, out of pure charity, they give homins the breath of life again - why do they demand worship for themselves and their God and even get carried away into commissioning temples and sending homins, weapons in hand, against other homins? And is it ultimately the Kami's lack of physicality that makes them helpless in the face of the goo and kept them from protecting the homins (and Atys) from the kitin? It is also a little bold to say that the Kami on Atys can always do what then want to do: they can not, and they do not. They really don't do anything, if you look closely, except selling tickets to homins and occasionally misuse them to run errands. The resuscitation, we may guess, is instead carried out by Ma-Duk personally - just as Jena may do with the followers of the Karavan, who for their part apparently also see themselves a bit like Atys coach conductors. But at least we know from them that they overcame the Kitins and enabled the homins to return from exile.

The question of harmony, yes ... Not easy one to answer, right? The Kitin may harmonise with Atys, but they do not harmonise with the homins. The homins harmonise with Atys, but not with the Kitin and only to a limited extent with other homins. The Kami harmonise with Atys, but not with homins who do not believe in their omnipotence and their God (a contradiction to the “right of free choice” mentioned elsewhere in connection with the Kami), not with the Kitin and not with the Karavan. The Karavan do not look as if they harmonise with Atys (which is more of an aesthetic than factual provable circumstance), they do not harmonise with the Kitin and with homins of other beliefs and other worship. The Goo doesn't harmonise with anyone at all - but it seems to be a more or less natural planetary product. Maybe Atys is using it as a kind of insecticide to rid itself of any "infestation" by non-botanical life forms?

At last, something regarding the "thumb of the Monarchy", weighting down the Royal subjects. I don't know exactly how one usually defines the administration of an Emperor; I would like to point out, however, that Dexton did not acquire his position through free democratic elections, but through succession, and that he also enjoys the reputation of an authoritarian ruler among the Fyros residents.

Most respectfully

Salazar Caradini
Bibliotecario of the House of Elantar

(OOC: In connection with first calls for the formation of a Kami alliance, Omir, Fyros leader of the Verwesende Cutes, said that Kami belong to Atys as nature spirits and that Karavan were technocratic invaders who had to go. This open letter was a response and picks up various points risen by Omir. Couldn't find the exact date of posting yet, but it was in 2006. Thilndae had by then left House Elantar and Salazar had become his successor as the librarian.)

Last edited by Salazar (4 years ago)

---

Salazar Caradini
Filira Matia
Royal Historian
Member of the Royal Academy of Yrkanis
First Seraph of the Order of the Argo Navis

#15 Added by Salazar 4 years ago  

{translate}

Salazar's features turned pale under the feverish blush as the young errand boy read him the minutes of the meeting, and when Utran's notice was brought to him, he tried reflexively to force a curse between his pressed lips. The only thing that came out was a sound reminiscent of a groan. His tongue, his muscles, they still weren't reacting the way he wanted them to. So he lay motionless on his bedstead, tied to it by the mysterious illness, and no one could see how troubled he was.

Muang - he remembered vividly the name and the mask the Zorai wore. Salazar had been the first to encounter him the moment Muang struck down his escaped co-conspirator Stachini and doused him with a poison apparently based on goo, which destroyed Stachini's seed. When Muang fled through the portal to Ichor, Salazar - followed by Ayronil, Utran and Monda - had pursued him, but the murderer miraculously disappeared to an unknown destination before the Matis' could pounce on him. Upon his return to Yrkanis, Salazar had given all information as well as his gloves, soiled with the strange poison, to the Karan's guard, and what he was allowed to print in the Königlicher Herold he had published.

But the trail seemed to lead nowhere. No one had apparently seen and heard the mysterious Muang since, and right now - now that he, Salazar, was so weak, unable to leave his apartment, unable to raise his voice - and how much he would have liked to raise his voice in Fairhaven! - just now the assassin, the kidnapper and blackmailer, the mastermind in drawing the srtings in the background reappeared, and only Utran had at least tried to arrest him. Why hadn't anyone called the guards? Why hadn't anyone accompanied Utran, tried to protect the Senator and put the villain down?

Another groan came from Salazar's throat. The healer felt his pulse only briefly, while his boy carefully wiped sweat and tears of excitement from his face, rubbed his forehead and chest dry and gently covered him again. "Well - you should sleep now," muttered the healer professionally and with complete ignorance of what was setting Salazar's mind on fire at that moment. He nodded to the boy and left the apartment. The boy, in turn, put out most of the lights and, by the shine of a single lamp, sat down next to the bed, where he quickly fell asleep. But Salazar lay awake for a long time, even if not a finger moved and only a slight twitch of his eyelids gave away his inner excitement.

(OOC: An event that linked to the Karin's abduction and also referred to the fact that the homins arrested the kidnapper Stachini, but he later escaped and was then killed by his accomplice Muang. Unfortunately, due to the loss of the newspaper archive, no account of the happenings survived. In addition, in the search for Stachini an entire (as it turned out innocent) village was wiped out, which caused deep remorse for Salazar, who urged the persecutors to do so.
At the time of this writing my computer was broken down and I couldn't - * snif * - play Ryzom ... so this was posted afterwards, on January 7th, 2007)

---

Salazar Caradini
Filira Matia
Royal Historian
Member of the Royal Academy of Yrkanis
First Seraph of the Order of the Argo Navis