The Works of Geleros (Brenner)

[Jane Farraway]

Searing 21st, 121. The Gilded Terraces. East End, Zaichaer

The doorman had raised an eyebrow when Jane told him to expect Brenner Dornkirk that afternoon, but his judgement ended there. It wasn't his business to question what guests tenants were inviting into their apartments, but it also wasn't his to keep it a secret. He knew that Carmen was out for the day, having left to attend various meetings regarding her investments, making it somewhat suspicious that she would invite a gentleman over while her mother was absent. Jane considered slipping him one of her few gold coins for his silence, but decided that it would only deepen whatever unsavory implications could be inferred from a purely innocent meeting. She wrung her hands as she entered into the lift, the operator closing the gate behind her. He listlessly pulled levers that shifted gears into place, the heavy metallic clunks digging into her nerves. Steam hissed as it entered the pneumatic chambers suspending the lift, smoothly raising it up its track.

She had nothing to hide. Whatever interrogation she would suffer later was preferable to the distraction she would create were she involved in this visit. Carmen largely saw her studies as hobbies, fancies used to facilitate conversation geared towards more productive goals. Goals of which Jane did not feel the same sentiments towards.

Jane entered her apartment, a small, but richly decorated flat of polished hardwood and brass. Indeed, if it were not for the size it might be mistaken for any of the estate rooms of the Zaichaeri upper class.The limited space worked in favor of the what little furniture and decor remained from the Farraway estate, making the small rooms well-furnished. Her mother had worked hard to keep up the appearance of wealth, and took pride in maintaining it. The building as a whole seemed to cater to this crowd, offering a taste of luxury to the aspiring blueblood, fraud, or disgraced aristocrat. It was well-maintained and offered various services for its tenants, but at a hefty price. It was the most that they both could afford, and while Carmen seemed moderately satisfied with the conditions, Jane only saw it as a burden that put undue pressure on them both.

For as much as she resented it, she did enjoy the large windows and the balcony that lead out from the dining area. It helped to have light for her plant studies, even if Carmen demanded they be kept in her room. The balcony had become a study in horticulture, something that could be appreciated by her mother, who was at least proud that her daugther was able to cultivate such an attractive garden. Carefully arranged pots with small trees, hearty foliage, and seasonal flowers surrounded a patio table with two chairs at either side. It overlooked the city facing towards the The Presidium. While the sight of it did not hold the same appeal to her as it did her mother, she could at least appreciate how the sunset would frame the city skyline.

Jane opened sheer curtains that covered the large french doors that led out to the balcony, allowing light to pour into the dining area and over a large oaken table. On it was a collection of notes taken from her last semester at the Greater Institute and along with texts she had rented from a public library. The information they had on magical creatures and the Sundering was antiquated, valued more for historical significance than modern application, but fortunately Zaichaer's bias towards modernity had blinded many to its relevance. Jane shifted through the pages of text she had copied from the Institute, her Vallenor lacking the flourish of the original texts. A stack of parchment papers tied with string held a hand-copied essay by Gereon of Geleros, one of his few that had been translated into Common. She laid out this crown jewel front and center, knowing that it would capture Brenner's interest.

Jane glanced at grandfather clock that stood against the wall. Her heart pounded. She scolded herself for this irrational nervousness and looked over the papers that spread out on the table, making sure there was nothing missing. It was then that she realized that she had no food or drink to offer her guest. Not even tea. Bemoaning her forgetfulness as a hostess she scurried off to the kitchen, hoping to find something suitable before Brenner arrived.

[Brenner Dornkirk]

Brenner had arrived quite early, as was his wont. He got his punctuality from both his Zaichaeri and Gelerian sides, thought it was really his mother who'd instilled the habit in him. Checking his pocket watch and realising it was too early to be politic, he just took mental note of where the Farraway residence was located and then took a stroll round the neighbourhood.

He knew that he'd spent part of his childhood at some residence hereabouts that had been far smaller than Dornkirk Manor, but he hadn't been old enough to remember much of it. Though Melchior Dornkirks rise had been rather meteoric, it had taken him time to accrue the extent of wealth it took to maintain a stately home like the Manor. He only started getting those major government design and construction commissions around when Stefan was born, so it was a few years before he'd been able to upgrade from the realm of the upwardly mobile to that of the captains of industry.

He paused to gaze into a shoppe window- Not because he was browsing merchandise, but because he caught his reflection in the glass and noted the light summer breeze had dislodged a lock of his hair from his normally neat coif. Whilst he was there, he fixed his ascot as well and checked the time. Good enough, he thought, as he pivoted round to make his way back to Jane's building pausing at a seller's stall to purchase a gift for his hostess.

"Brenner Dornkirk to see Miss Farraway, please." He announced upon being greeted by the doorman. He was still five minutes early, but that hardly felt like an imposition to a proper Zaichaeri for a one-on-one appointment such as this. The doorman directed him to the lift, wherein he was greeted by the operator and headed on up to greet the fascinating young woman he'd connected with a few days earlier at the gala.

He knocked upon her door and inclined his head when she answered.

"For you." He presented the bouquet of purple orchids and red roses he'd purchased at the stall with a dashing smirk. "Thank you for having me."

[Jane Farraway]

Searing 21st, 121. The Gilded Terraces. East End, Zaichaer

The water had just begun to boil when a knock came at the door. Jane gasped and quickly poured some into a ceramic teapot, setting the rest back on the stove. She smoothed the front of her dress and took a deep breath, walking out of the kitchen to greet her guest.

Opening the door, the young woman blinked at the sight of an extravagant bouquet held out to her by Brenner. Even if she were expecting flowers it wouldn’t have been anything like this.

“Oh!”, Jane sighed, taking the bouquet gingerly into her hands, “Roses…orchids—Why, thank you, Brenner, they’re gorgeous.”

She smiled and stepped aside, feeling somewhat at a loss. This was the first time she had invited a gentleman, outside of relatives and family friends, into her home. All the work she had put into calming her nerves had been undone by this unexpected gift.

“Of course, thank you for coming. Please, make yourself at home”, Jane gestured to the oaken table in her dining room, lined with six chairs. Her notes and rented books were stacked neatly in the center. She walked briskly towards the kitchen.

“You have perfect timing; the tea is just about ready. Excuse me for a moment while I finish up and find a vase for these flowers.”

Ducking away into the other room, Jane exhaled quietly. She inspected the flowers that made up the bouquet. The roses were just about in full bloom, picked at the peak of freshness, their stems thornless, diminished through careful breeding no doubt. The orchids were vibrant yet delicate, accents of color and variety to offset the fuller blossoms. It was an expertly bred arrangement and she felt somewhat embarrassed at the thought of what such quality would cost.

Setting aside her nerves, she went back to preparing the food and drink for her guest. She poured out the water she had used to warm the teapot, added a few scoops of black tea, and filled it with the rest of the boiling water. The tete-a-tete set included a plate of sliced oranges and chocolate marzipans. Their cupboards were usually stocked with candy, gifts from stubborn gentleman friends of her mother, who had little taste for sugar. Jane, however, was the opposite and was happy that the chocolates could finally be put to better use than just absented-minded snacks during late night studying.

Jane carried out the tea tray, which now included the bouquet in a crystal vase, and laid out linens, cups, and plates. Pouring out tea for them both, she sat across from Brenner.

“How has your day been so far?”, she said, pouring a small amount of cream into her cup, “I hope you didn’t have too much trouble finding the address.”

[Brenner Dornkirk]

Brenner tipped his head in acknowledgment of the surprisingly enthusiastic level of gratitude Jane proffered in response to the flowers.

"Nothing to thank." He might have been blushing slightly himself, which wasn't difficult given his complexion. He wasn't incapable of tanning, though he never broached the level of bronze his elder brother achieved. But with the Searing Victory having been grounded much of Glade and his recently approved expedition having recently become the main focus, it wasn't looking as though he'd be kissed much by the sun this Searing.

"I-..." Brenner started to speak, but Jane promptly begged off to attend to the refreshments and he shifted his weight to one foot, "Of course!" His blush deepened. It was awkward and unfamiliar ground being in the presence of a lady alone in her residence. He wasn't altogether sure what to behave and he rather worried he'd already overstepped with the flowers, based on her reaction. When she quit the room, he did a lanquid lap around to take in the decor. He knew enough about the decline and fall of House Farraway to know that they'd had to pawn off a lot of their most impressive heirlooms to afford even as modest a dwelling as this. He smirked a bit to himself, not because he wished ill upon Jane or her family, but because it was a sign of the times that had ushered his own family into prominence. He'd been ridiculed enough by old families with proud names whose fortunes had since fallen even further than the Farraways'. The Dornkirks were wealthier than any old house he could name and they'd achieved it all in one generation through the savvy of Melchior and, increasingly, Stefan. Even houses that hadn't fallen into disgrace often scraped by with a facade of prosperity that didn't hold up under scrutiny. And more was, in Brenner's opinion, the better.

By the time Jane returned, Brenner had perched himself on the edge of a settee with his ankles crossed in front of him. The black and burgundy checkered design of his socks peaked out amidst the charcoal grey of his slacks and shoes. His ascot matched the socks, but otherwise his outfit was rather muted- Certainly in comparison to the regalia he'd donned for the gala.

"Oh, I don't mind serving myself." He protested lightly, half reaching for the teapot, but withdrawing when Jane seemed content to pour for him.

"So far, so good." He answered the pleasantry with a slight shrug, "I'm due at Onneifer later on to oversee a bit of the resupply of the Searing Victory, but this is a lovely diversion from my soldierly duties." He cracked a dashing smile,

"Not at all! Actually whenever we drive through this neighbourhood Stefan reminds me we used to live somewhere hereabouts when we were children. I was quite young, so I don't recall the address... We might have even been in this building, for all I know, but..." He leaned forward to lift his saucer with his left hand and the cup with the right. He added neither sugar nor cream before taking a delicate sip of the piping hot beverage.

"And, um..." His cup clanked against the saucer as he returned it- betraying the quavering his nerves elicited. He winced, embarrassed, but continued speaking in hopes that she hadn't noticed. "How fare you today?"

[Jane Farraway]

Searing 21st, 121. The Gilded Terraces. East End, Zaichaer

Jane was somewhat endeared as she saw that Brenner had made full use of her invitation to “make himself at home”, finding him on the velvet settee in her parlor. She looked over his smart ensemble appreciatively, feeling somewhat out of style in comparison. Her mother made full use of consignment stores to rotate their wardrobe in an attempt to keep up with trends, but despite these efforts they were always somewhat behind in terms of fashion. Jane was dressed neatly, wearing a white lace blouse paired with a mauve, pleated, floor length skirt, though close inspection would show that her hems were beginning to fray and the fabric was pilled.

“It's no trouble”, she said in response to Brenner's protestations, “You're my guest, but feel free to pour yourself a fresh cup whenever you'd like.” A few tea leaves strayed into the cups and Jane realized that in her rush she had forgotten to include the strainer basket. Hopefully he would not notice. She presented a pair of small, silver tongs and laid them on the plate with the orange slices and marzipan, taking a couple of each for herself.

Joining him on the settee would feel a bit too intimate, so she opted to sit in the plush armchair across from him. Jane feared for a moment that this arrangement was proving to be too familiar and momentarily regretted not choosing a more public venue for their meeting. Perhaps she could segue their visit into a neighborhood stroll; The weather was pleasant enough. But then again, her notes would not fare well outdoors and sharing them had been the main reason for extending this invitation.

Jane sipped her tea as she listened to Brenner talk about his business. She could not help but smile in return, “Well, I'm glad I can provide you such a diversion. I cannot say that I'm savvy to your duties, but that sounds like quite the undertaking. What does a resupply involve? Is it part of routine maintenance?”

It was strange to think that the Dornkirks might have occupied this humble neighborhood when her family was thriving in the West End. It seemed that the more Zaichaer grew, the more competitive the social hierarchy became. The Farraways and other families like them had held supremacy in the city for generations, but new industries and the growing economy had allowed ambitious officers and merchants to rise the ranks. Prestige was becoming a ephemeral commodity and Jane wondered how long the Dornkirks could maintain their place in this burgeoning social climate.

“I see—it is a pleasant little neighborhood, isn't it? For what it is, I mean. When did your family move to the West End; It sounds like you were raised there? I was about nine when the Farraways left—“, She counted quietly to herself, “That was in 107 of Steel."

Jane mentioned this casually, more to see if the Farraways and the Dornkirks had occupied the West End together than to dwell on her family's loss. She wondered if their fathers knew each other, likely having served in the Air Defense Corps at the same time. Perhaps a topic for another day, she thought to herself.

Behind his sterling smile, a subtle tremor of anxiety outlined Brenner's every word and action. Jane knew because she felt it in herself. She had been a fool to think that such an intimate meeting would not create some level of disquiet on either side. Her escapes to the Hobbled Gobbler had made her grow too confident in eschewing the traditions of their upbringing, underestimating their presence even within herself.

“Quite well”, Jane responded simply. She quickly stood and picked up a collection of her notes, including the essay, “I've just been going over my notes from the Institute. I thought we could pick up were we left off at the Gala—before, well, things went as they did.”

She very carefully removed the twine that bound the stack of papers together. “I have an essay here by Gereon of Geleros. Concerning the Common Man's Plight: 50th of Sundering. It recounts the various struggles that much of the human peasantry had to suffer after the Sundering—mainly how this new influx of aether effected their livelihood and how they compensated. I feel like it might be relevant. Would you be interested?”

[Brenner Dornkirk]

Jane was, to Brenner's mind, the very portrait of Zaichaeri civility. She'd had all the training in etiquette of one of the old, powerful houses, but she was at enough of a disadvantage that she had to consistently employ those techniques. She couldn't rest on her laurels, as did some of the libertines he'd met with lofty names and scanty manners. Or perhaps she was just naturally inclined toward the social graces. Whatever the case, it put him more at ease as he settled into their present environs.

"It is rather routine, yes. It's a good thing, because it means the old girl will set off again, soon, but... Well, Zaichaeri technology is ever-evolving, so on top of keeping us in rations the resupplies allow us to keep our ships up-to-date with the latest and best upgrades. We also occasion to do refits, which are more of an ordeal, but keep our older vessels relevant in an ever-changing world." He explained with a cordial smile . He leaned forward to sip at the tea again.

"Very pleasant indeed!" Brenner agreed. He might have used the word quaint, but feared it might offend. They both knew the score, but Brenner saw no boon in belabouring what must be a touchy subject. He rolled his tongue, feeling something grainy and feigned a cough so he could lift his hand to furtively pluck away an errant dried leaf from his mouth.

"I must have been three years old or thereabouts..." Brenner considered, "So, that would be... 95 Steel, I think? You wouldn't even have been born yet, I suppose. I guess we grew up as neighbours, for a time." He rubbed the tea leaf between his thumb and index finger, an absent example of fidgeting in the brief lull between subjects. He perked, sitting upright and straight-backed when Jane broached their fledgling conversation at the Gala, which had been waylaid.

"Ah, splendid!" He clapped one hand against his thigh, "I've not read that one, but it sounds passing pertinent to the research I've been doing. Consider me quite interested indeed." He reached down for another sip of tea, which was accompanied by another few tea leaves. At this point, he peeked into his cup to note the legion of leaves whirling in the amber depths. He cleared his throat, covering his mouth as he plucked away the stowaways and subtly discarded them onto a napkin which he also used to collect a marzipan.

"What a frightful time that must have been to be a human... Not that everything's hunky dory these days, either, but..." He shuddered, "Its harrowing to think on it." He punctuated his thought with a bite.

[Jane Farraway]

Searing 21st, 121. The Gilded Terraces. East End, Zaichaer

“Ah, I see”, Jane nodded as Brenner elaborated on the maintenance of his ship. She strengthened as he touched upon the developing technology of airships, thinking back to that night at the Gala when she and Stefan perused the exhibits, “Oh yes! Your brother talked much about that at the Gala. I wouldn't have imagined the kind of work that goes into it all. To think how much progress has been made in only twenty years. Exciting to that we might even be able to find mundane substitutes to dragonshards in our lifetime. What a relief that would be, wouldn't it?”

She paused for a moment, thinking back to that night, “Apologies for disappearing for the evening. I think Stefan and I both needed to—retire from the crowd for a moment. I don't believe neither of us intended to be absent for so long.”

Turning to the subject of the West End, Brenner affirmed her assumptions about the Dornkirk's occupation in the area during that time. It appeared as though his family was on a rise just as the Farraways were on the decline. Perhaps envy was why her family did not associate with them. She knew it was her mother's reason, as far as Lady Sylana was involved.

“I suspected as much. It was a shame your family never visited the estate. The Angevins did occasionally, but I wasn't much company for the children at that age.”, She recalled how she had treated the Eitan during those visits, resenting the meanspirited little girl she had been.

Brenner's excitement at the mention of the essay alighted her own and she smiled, blushing at the sight of his eagerness. How rare it was to discuss her passions with a handsome gentleman—or rather a gentleman—or rather someone from outside the Institute. Yes, that was it. She could not help but notice, however, the subtle ways that Brenner attempted to remove and hide the tea leaves that had found their way into his cup. Jane had been suffering to swallow them, but she couldn't expect her guest to tolerate the same unpleasantness.

“Indeed it was. It truly is chilling to think back on those times,” she began, shifting through the pages of the essay. “Listen to this:

'Dread Mists ravaged Ransera in magnitudes that rivaled the intensity of those found in the barren lands of the West. Both plant and beast were twisted in strange and unpredictable ways.Crops were said to uproot themselves, gaining preternatural mobility, while others simply withered. Most insidious were spectacular harvests more bountiful than any had experienced in their short lifetimes. These often flourished for a single season only to never appear again or give poisoned fruits that wiped out entire populations. Livestock turned wild or were mutated in such ways that their meat, milk, and hide became unusable. The very land itself seemed tainted as that which grew and that which ate from it acted as if they were touched by the Mist. Goods of all sorts became scarce and Man, fearing this new cursed world of which they did not comprehend, became isolated, daring not to venture out beyond their meager homes and villages.'”

As Jane spoke, she walked into the kitchen, raising her voice as she did so Brenner would not have to strain to listen. When she returned, she placed a small, silver mote spoon on his saucer as well as one on her own.

“It's hard to imagine how they could possibly survived, but even with their limited resources they found ways,”She continued:

'The common Man could often not afford the services offered by those that specialized in Negation magics, many of which had become corrupted by the power and greed their services had afforded them. Prevalent also was the general distrust many had for magic, so they sought to find remedy in natural sources.

It was noted that certain plant and animal species were, or became, resilient to the effects of Aether found in the environment. They were, of course, not immune from significant exposure, but they displayed an increased tolerance towards the ill-effects that it created. Crops and livestock that displayed these traits began to substitute the prior breeds Man once relied on for sustenance. It was thought that consuming the produce and flesh of these species would grant one their own immunity. The validity of this claim is not fully understood, but such practices did lead to the discovery of reagents that mimicked the effects of negation magic within the user.

A common belief was that resources from underground had been untouched by the effects of the Sundering. This is untrue, but it lead to the discovery of an interesting phenomenon in a township within the Karnor region. A ground well that was said to be “as deep as the Warrens” yielded water that appeared to remedy the effects of excess Aether. Plants, animals, as well as humans that had been touched by the Dread Mists were said to be cured by the water from this well. Indeed, the water was said to cure the land itself, allowing produce to grow as it once did before the Sundering. Several theories have been proposed to explain these properties, but unfortunately the well was said to have dried up in 76 of Sundering and was abandoned, its location lost to time.'”

Jane took a breath and sat down in the plush armchair, taking her tea in one hand and the spoon in the other. She tapped out the tea leaves and took a modest drink.

“Quite a lot to absorb, perhaps I got carried away”, she admitted shyly, “What are your thoughts?”

[Brenner Dornkirk]

"Ahh..." Brenner could have applauded if his hands weren't occupied with cup and saucer, "You see, Jane? This is why I love you." He blinked, "Well-... Not that I-... You know what I mean." Blushing, he cleared his throat and launched into elaborating as quickly as possible in hopes of sweeping his lapse under the proverbial rug.

"I couldn't agree more that we need to find natural substitutes to supernatural resources. Zaichaer can only fight fire with fire for so long, before we're as corrupted as Kalzasi." He shook his head,

"No need to apologise. I know better than anyone how captivating Stefan can be. I've lost many an hour with the way time flies in his company." He smiled warmly at the notion and sat back as Jane launched into a recitation from Gereon's writings.

He place his cup and saucer down, sitting back on the settee and, for the first time in Jane's company, letting his posture lapse from its typical military precision. He shut his eyes and let his head fall back onto the cushion behind him as he tried to visualise the world being described. Gereon, with his artful flare for the dramatic, lived up to Brenner's estimation in the way he colourfully recounted the horrors of a bygone age- many of which lingered to the present day. Hearing the description made Brenner proud to be a Human, knowing what obstacles they'd surmounted to thrive and extend their influence across all of known Ransera. They'd gone from the brink of extinction to near total domination over the beasts that had been warped into existence by the Sundering.

He hear the clink of silver against porcelain and lifted his head, opening his eyes to find the mote spoon. He was a bit embarrassed that she must have caught his clandestine attempts to keep the debris off his tongue, but he nodded gratitude all the same and leaned forward to collect his cup again to do a bit of skimming ere his next sip.

"Man is truly the most remarkable and resilient of all Ransera's creatures." Brenner nodded in agreement, and gestured for her to continue as he took a taste of tea- the first which was unmarred by errant residue.

"Well." Brenner took a deep breath, and leaned forward with a grin. "This ground well, whether expended or not, seems a worthy area of exploration." He pondered the notion, pursing his lips.

"Have you found any other sources that reference it? I could envision, if all were to go well with my expedition in Ash, chartering a second enterprise with the goal of finding and researching... perhaps even excavating this phenomenon." He paused, "If you'd be keen to explore that possibility... have you uncovered any further writing on the topic from Gereon or, better yet, sources independent of Gereon?"

[Jane Farraway]

Searing 21st, 121. The Gilded Terraces. East End, Zaichaer

Jaw dropped, Jane stared at Brenner for a moment before fulling comprehending what he was trying to say. When it struck her, she smiled and shook her head with an airy laugh.

“Oh, yes, I know--do not worry”, she replied, clearing her throat. Such hyperbole was common, but it was hard not to react at face value.

Nodding gravely, Jane looked down at her cup, swirling the errant tea leaves that floated near the bottom, “I believe that Kalzasi has been so steeped in magic that they cannot imagine a world without it, but such a world is far from it's natural state. I'm thankful that growing up in Zaichaer has given me the distance to realize that. Magic cannot be the only way to fight magic and I'm confident that with enough work we can break that endless cycle.”

She lost herself as she read Gereon's essay and almost missed Brenner's comment. She nodded and continued, happy that he had such interest. He seemed particularly intrigued by the account of the ground well, a sentiment she shared as well. The prospect of a magic negating natural resource was not only fascinating, but gave her hope that other remedies like it existed. Her guest's desire to know more about the well, however, was sobering, and she filed through her notes.

“I agree, but unfortunately, Gereon has only been the only scholar that I have found to have documented this specific occurrence. He does site a source for these findings, but I was not able to locate it before I had to—leave the Greater Institute—for the time being. Whether or not it exists in their collection is an entirely different matter. It was an older text and that means rarer. The Sundering was a dark age for Man and whatever had been recorded in the early days of that era has been lost or scattered, or hoarded in someone's private collection.”

Jane took a contemplative sip of tea, “It had a title in Vallenor that roughly translates to... 'The Balm of Divine Waters'. The annotation stated that it was a collection of entries from a “Mystic of Ioniri” who was a caretaker of the well from at that time.”She paused and poured herself a fresh cup of tea, taking a moment to remove the leaves, “I can only assume that it's written from a more—theistic perspective, but it could provide more clues to its location. I will be returning to the Institute hopefully this season, so I could try to look for it.”

"Still--even with this information, searching for the site of the well would be a daunting task, but trying to understanding the nature behind it would be worth researching", Placing her saucer down, she stood up and walked over to the dining table. Gathering her notes, she began to search through them, brow furrowed, “I had sought to find explanations for this phenomenon. There was an old textbook in Vallenor I found on Aether negation. It didn't touch on the school of Negation, but rather elements and substances that naturally blocked pure Aether, like this well appeared to do."

The mention of an expedition had piqued her curiosity. She recalled what he had briefly mentioned at the Gala and wondered if this was the product of that ambition. “An expedition, you say? Why, how wonderful! Where are you going?”

[Brenner Dornkirk]

Brenner nodded emphatically.

"Truly." He affirmed, "It is long past time for this realm to be weaned from the ill-begotten teat of aetheric manipulation." He wrinkled his nose, "Forgive the lewd allusion." He added, as a glance to his hostess reminded him that he was in the presence of a refined lady- Not the foul-mouthed airmen whose company he more frequently kept.

"Indeed." Brenner sighed, "I've come across numerous and sundry such hurdles in my efforts to research the period." He sat back again, crossing his arms over his chest this time as his eyes rose to the ceiling whilst he considered the topic at hand. "It is a pity that Zaichaer, for all its regard for order and precision, has not been able to accumulate a more comprehensive and centralised archive of tomes. Or perhaps you and I just lack the clearance to view them, but I am intent upon surmounting that particular obstacle whilst I still stalk this earthly stage." He smirked a bit, recognising his poetical verbiage might come off a bit comical.

"Ah, well... Given the timeframe, it's unsurprising that contemporaneous writers would be afflicted with such pious notions. It was a time when blind faith was oft mistaken for virtue... As remains the case in places like Kalzasi." He mused, critically. "Please keep me apprised of anything further you find on the subject. At the very least, it is research my family might be inclined to bankroll." He shrugged a cavalier shoulder and listened on.

"The expedition?" Brenner repeated, feeling a slight blush creep up his neck. "Oh, I... Well, suffice it to say it's something of a family affair. I've come upon a bit of information in my own research that seemed to warrant further exploration, and so I'm assembling a crew to go on something of... Well, let us call it a hunt and leave it at that." He grimaced,

"Would that I could be more forthcoming on the matter, Jane, and it isn't for any lack of trust that I hold my tongue, but out of dire necessity. In fact, I would ask that you not let anyone know what I've broached on this matter. It could-..." He halted himself, "Let us just say the stakes are very high." He would have loved to have gushed to Jane about his findings and to see whether she might have insight that could benefit the endeavour, but his orders from the First Minister rang loudly and forebodingly in his ears. He knew all-too-well that discretion was of paramount importance on a mission which would have repercussions for all of the North-... For all of Ransera, really.

"I hope you will see my discretion as more virtuous than vexing." He offered with a mild, cordial grin.