The chamber was unlike that of the stronghold; for one, it was warm. A fire burned at the stone hearth, and thick woollen drapes hugged the walls. Dull reds served as a backdrop for vivid oranges, muted greens and light blues. Yellows woven in gave form to battles, stylised warriors all bearing the Fist's emblem. In triumph and defeat, they stood against their foes, history captured in thread, the story of their order. In the centre, the banner itself hung, flames rising around a mailed fist over a field of blood red.
Twin posts stood beside the silk banner, former torches for night marches. Even here, no weapons decorated the chamber, and only a desk and cabinet betrayed any form of bureaucracy. In front of the fire stood an armoured man, his white surcoat identical to Vai's, though his plate, shield and long plumed helm were born by a wooden stand in the corner. Like Vai, his hair was cut short, though his head was shaved, and a evil looking scar split his cheek from temple to jaw. His nose had been broken and never properly reset, and at least one arrow had clipped his stubbled chin. Long-since healed dents and other faded scars covered his grizzled head. Even a chunk of his ear was missing.
Broad shoulders held up the ringmail with ease, despite his middle years. As the door closed behind them, the two officers regarded each other expressionlessly. It was impossible to tell if it was veiled animosity, indifference or professionalism.
"Vai."
"Sir."
"I'm 'Scar', second in command of the Flaming Fist," his gaze lingered on Vai's before he took the elf, "I have to say you have caused quite the commotion." His eyes snapped back to his subordinate, "His grace wants to see you. Both of you. I'm sorry, but its out of my hands." He hardened, "His grace wants answers, and so do I."
Vai inclined her head stiffly.
The elf remained as impassive.
"No objections? Good. I am afraid you will have to wait; his grace is inspecting the walls."
"The walls? Why?" Vai's interrupted abruptly. Beside her, Aurifyr's gaze thinned.
"You haven't heard? There are rumours Amn is preparing for war."
"Impossible."
"You've been away too long." Regarding the pair, Scar instructed curtly, "Wait here; I'll see what can be done to hurry the delay."
With that, he left, his stride long and crisp.
