Garden Of The Abyss

"You should consider staying here. There is still the possibility the eyes and ears of Mastorn have sensed your intentions."

Looking upon the beautiful form of the lady knight, Beatrice spoke as the royal woman adjusted her emerald cape. They stood in the grandiose hall of the Hollow Foundation, though it was an organization precisely made to exist in secret, it wasn't exactly a lonely, empty domain; floors of hazel marble stretched far, blending into the stygian pillars that acted as the foundation for the mighty, tall-standing base.

Standing quietly without a word spoken, the two demi-human adventurers contracted to escort Getrude waited by the lavish carriage. It was natural for Malune to hold himself as if not even existing, keeping his eyes shut and his arms folded across his chest--however, the same could not be said for the curious, colorful companion of his who gawked at the exuberant lobby like a child watching the stars for the first time.

"It is a tempting option, but...I still have my men stationed back in Mastorn. Besides, I am much more useful to you with inside information coming in, no?"

"Getrude, don't forget--you are to be the next ruler of Mastorn once your father is overthrown. Your safety is of the utmost priority."

Responding to these cautionary words from the sage, the verdant-haired knight standing at the golden-locked woman's side held a bright smile, "I've got that covered, Miss Beatrice!"

Getrude could only shake her head with a soft fight at Damien's lack of elegance before she turned to get a look at the transportation that would lead her back home. It was almost identical to the carriage she embarked from Mastorn on, but a few, almost unnoticeable changes had been made thanks to the short, stout man who just finished his tinkering.

"She's ready to go!"

Slapping the side of the carriage, the dwarven man proclaimed the finish of his job. It seemed the occupancy of the carriage, stationed directly in the center of the bustling lobby that was filled with boards that were littered with quests for the plentiful adventurers, was something a bit bothersome.

"You have my gratitude, Mjurnun."

Placing her hand over her right breast, the beautiful, well-mannered princess and knight displayed her gratitude--as did Damien--though the gesture only caused the dwarven man to act bashful.

It's quite rare to see any dwarves in Mastorn...but they're much more...welcoming? I expected an abrasive, drunken fellow, but I am pleasantly surprised, Getrude thought.

"I'm just doing my job! No need to thank me!"

Fiddling with his long, bristly, and ginger beard, Mjurnun began to move past the group as he slid his handy tool back into the leather belt wrapped around his waist. Standing with a small smile, a man with unnaturally pale skin awarded by powdery, white makeup no different from that of a clown's own, gave Mjurnun a pat on the shoulder before approaching Getrude.

"Lord Ferstaus."

Wearing a tophat made of a sleek, dark material that sat atop his head of hair that held a spectrum of fire in his long, luscious, but mannerly locks, the nobleman held a certain intrigue in his golden, sharp irises. In almost a surprising fashion, his garments remained mostly normal for a nobleman; a black coat covered a crimson vest he wore, lathered with minuscule stripes that stood in contrast to his dark britches.

"Lady Getrude. Sir Damien. It's always such a delight to see such gallant, respectable knights here! I think some of our associates could take a note or two, don't you agree?"

"You honor me, Lord Ferstaus…"

Not quite knowing how to handle the eccentric, white-makeup wearing nobleman, Getrude chuckled quietly.

Exchanging slight bows, the eccentric of appearance man handed a small, neatly wrapped up scroll to the womanly knight. Getrude accepted the scroll, but looked up at the unique nobleman with a perplexed look--falling still as the tall, slender man leaned in close to whisper something into her ear.

"Just something to keep in mind! Do remember: you're always welcome here, lovely knights."

Ferstaus tipped his hat with a smile as his joyous words came out in a tone unfitting of his scheming whispers, but Getrude only nodded in silence before storing the scroll away into a safe place between her metallic armor.

Taking his leave, the nobleman dressed in makeup fit for a jester waved the princess off with a smile that fell between gentle, warm, and concerning.

Lord Ferstaus...he's part of the Hollow Council--that makes him one of the most powerful nobles in the world. Yet...not much is known about him. I don't know how much he can be trusted, but I don't have much of a choice, Getrude thought.

As if reading the doubt perched upon Getrude's fair face, Beatrice stepped closer to her, "You can trust Lord Ferstaus. I may be speaking out of personal bias...no, out of debt, but it is only because of him that the Outlanders are recognized as a proper, renowned guild in the Hollow Foundation. He is our...sponsor, if you will."please visit

"I see...he's just…"

"I know. He is a unique man, but that's what we need in an ever changing world, do we not? The Hollow Foundation is run by nobles who aren't satisfied with the state of the world--but Lord Ferstaus embodies that on a completely different level."

Beatrice's words, backed by her ancient tenure, did dampen the discomfort that the royal knight felt as she gave a small smile to the sage before guiding herself into the lavish carriage built of furnished wood. Bringing the large figure inside of itself, the carriage shook as Damien entered--plopping down on the velvet seats within as Malune and Luna both took the role as carriage drivers.

ραпdα nᴏνɐ| сom "...On that day, right?"

Asking this vague question to the primordial sage who watched her enter the carriage, Getrude received her answer with a small nod from the tranquil woman.

"The Festival of Heroes; that's the day it shall be done."

With those parting words to Getrude, Beatrice watched as the luxurious transportation vehicle began to move forward by the bulky steed that responded to a crack of the whips held by Malune.

The massive, towering doors made of colossal marble, reinforced with stygian steel, parted by levers being handled by hulking men that unmistakably were of giant blood. Huffs and grunts bellowed from the massive, pale-skinned men who were tightly-strapped leather armor over their gray overalls, using their gargantuan, muscular arms to part the gates for Getrude and her party to embark on their journey back to Mastorn.

Taking a step next to the platinum-haired sage who watched the gray skies that obscured any sunlight become visible past those doors, Ferstaus held a simple smile.

"It seems things are moving forward quite fast, aren't they, Anteros?"

"Hoh...it's been awhile since one has called me by that name, Beatrice. You'll make this old man flush."

Though Ferstaus responded with this, his age didn't take a single peek over the thirties; reeling in a short laugh from the sage that the nobleman shared in. With his locks that shared between vermilion, crimson, and the shade of the morning rays of light, tied neatly into a ponytail that rested over his shoulder, Ferstaus leaned closer to the sage's ear as his lips nearly grazed her skin.

"You're actually quite right; things are moving fast. We must discuss "that"--rather urgently, I'm afraid. I believe they are on the move."

Whispering this into the ear of the primordial sage that followed him in his youthful appearance, Ferstaus stood back up straight, snapping his fingers that were protected by pearly-white, silken gloves.

"Come, Beatrice! Onward!"

With his usual eccentricity, the nobleman garnered the concerned eyes of passing adventurers who were either collecting rewards for their completed quests, or seeking new ones. Guiding the sage dressed in her usual, somber dress of sable fabric, intertwined and laced with a series of odd, but beautiful designs, Ferstaus walked with a smile--nodding and waving at the adventurers and staff he passed by.

"I must say...the Hollow Foundation has grown quite popular these days, hasn't it? I remember it just being the initial five founders and the adventurers they swayed with as much gold as they could fit in their pockets."

"Indeed; it's truly a light in my heart to see it grow like this."

Ferstaus briefly looked back at the sage with his replied words, holding his wide smile all the same. Turning past a hall, the two began to climb a set of marbled stairs that had been decorated with a snow-white rug.

"Well...you have much more stock put into it, don't you? The others remained in the shadows, still maintaining the facade of law-abiding noblemen that knelt to their rulers, but you simply brought your estate and people to the Hollow Foundation. Quite the risk, I must say."

"My, it is rare to be on the receiving end of such delightful, sweet words from the Sage of Mastorn herself. I truly wonder--what do I owe this pleasure?"

Laughing to himself, Ferstaus summited the lengthy steps before turning to witness the sage achieve the same; greeted by a smile from the woman possessing such unique eyes, the nobleman continued with the woman following behind him.

"Is it so abnormal for friends to speak fondly of one another?"

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