Hunting for Answers [Closed]

[Hilana Chenzira]

“The great darkness,” Hilana said quietly when Khyan asked what was going on. “I hear stories in Port Vasta. The sailors that come from across the sea speak of it, they say that it chokes off all light and interrupts our Runes. It does not affect our Kingdom, but we are beyond our borders. This must be that darkness.” She didn’t like the look of it, but the light from the flowers seemed to be enough for her to hear the spirits again. And hopefully it would do for Khyan to get what they needed before someone came to find them, and they could continue straight on to Drathera. That would be another long flight, and Hilana would sooner give all of them, including Kherdroth, magma bloom elixirs rather than stop with this sludge and the severe handicap that they were going to face. The air had to be safer than the ground. It had been so far.

As Kherdroth hissed, her head turned towards the direction he was looking at and she narrowed her eyes. Something was sensing them beyond the strength of the Mask, and her lips thinned. She didn’t like it, but there was nothing for it but to face it. ‘What lurks?’ She murmured to the earthly elemental spirits. ‘Where is it?’ Was it accompanied by other things? Was it multiple? Had the dreaded, beastly Orcani hordes been waiting and keeping watch here, and this was what the great Wyvern was sensing?

To see Finn and his emblem light up, Hilana was certainly filled with admiration and awe. She could feel the light as clearly as she could see it, and with that burst, she could feel the elements more strongly than she had since they had left the light of the Sceptre of Avaerys, blessed be His power. Once it faded, she pulled a pair of lodestones from her belt pouch, holding them in her right hand against the golden Rune that His Divine Radiance had put there. The lodestones had been shaped into smoothly faceted ovals, and while they weren’t huge crystals, she had loaded them up. Daemon’s had not been large either, but they were still incredibly powerful. Perhaps it would have been smarter to have accepted one of the four primary elements as Arche by now; but the Vastiana was determined to unlock all nine first. And to do that, she was going to have to visit the other Elemental planes, meditate, and attune there. One by one. And once she had tried each of the nine elements, then she could truly see what her Arche was. As friendly as earth was, and the one she had the strongest connection with so far…

As their Subvigil friend and Kherdroth moved in a reptilian ballet through a link that she could neither hear nor ever hope to replicate. Hilana was trying to keep herself in the centre so that the mask’s radius would cover them for as long as possible. “Mind the distance,” she warned Finn, while at the same time she sought to stay close to Khyan, her Lodestones at the ready. Fire and water, as earth and air were already around them. If something slipped past Finn and Kherdroth, or came up from the rear, then it was on her to cover and provide backup. She wasn’t the girl that Raithen had sent away from a monstrous fight last season. Not anymore. Sentinel Ævril and Dominus Palaemon had seen to that. But now they needed to get what they came to get, and then they could go.

[Pharaoh]

A guttural, rattling churned from the depths of Kherdroth's chest when the wyvern stalked, as Finn bade him, toward the shadowy woods. No sound answered the Solunarian sky serpent, but that of the leaves that rustled in the chill breeze of this sunless afternoon. Whatever lurked those shifting shadows remained unseen by those blanketed in Varvara's own umbra.

But when, once again, the sacred light of Aværys, Rex Regnum, burst forth from Finn's Emblem, it blanketed the glowing field in radiant warmth. The dim glow was replaced with a resplendent blaze of glory that would subtly urge the mortals present to kneel, unless Finn consciously mitigated that natural effect of His Radiant Mark. In addition to the inevitable awe, Hilana and Khyan would feel their Cardinal Runes brimming to full power under the light of His holy sceptre. No more was their Craft impeded by the eclipse with only a trickle of its full breadth permitted by the dim glow of the surrounding flora. Once again Khyan felt a Master of Semblance and Hilana an Expert Elementalist.

The brilliant light caught something wedged into the ground, which Hilana would be first to notice. Closer inspection would reveal the metal of a blade. Ancient, but preserved by the strange soil surrounding this meadow.

With his Sembling eye, Khyan would see this field for what it was: Melindranovispont, the point at which the dragon Melindranovian fell to the earth and was slain by Israxa the Black. He would see that the soil, even after these millennia, was infused with dragon's blood that charged what plants grew here with luminescent æther. He would see echoes of the trail taken by the victor of the bout, and then he would feel a piercing pain and see black as he fell unconscious.

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He'd been too late to see or Semble the source of the pain, for it flitted out of nowhere as he'd seen Traversers do. And it wasn't the only such instance that happened in that same moment, for the glow of Finn's Emblem was brighter than the shadow of Hilana's mask and these creatures were drawn to the light of Divinity. Hilana would see Finn's shadow extend behind him as an incorporeal creature shot forth and lashed out with a suddenly solid blade like appendage that lashed down toward one of Finn's, even as its counterpart was jabbing a shadowy spear into Khyan's torso. The slender Vastian's eyes lolled shut and his head rolled forward, as he dangled from the shadowspear and his attacker turned a dark gaze on Hilana.

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!

Message from: Pharaoh

NOTE: Now you stand the hazard of the die. The effects of your Punishment/Reward rolls are listed below, please reflect them in your next posts. Hilana - Having rolled a 14, she discovers a masterwork blade weapon from the Epoch of the Rending forged by the famous Solunarian smith Scipianus, worth 200 Aværyan Avens. Khyan - Having rolled a 7, he is grievously wounded and will require the aid of a healer. Finn - Having rolled a 1, he must lose an appendage in the ensuing conflict. As I am a merciful Pharaoh, I will allow the player to choose which appendage.

[Finn]

Finn had no desire to make Hilana or Khyan bow to him, even if Deus Aværys might have been pleased for the beginnings of majesty in the bard. He wore his sentinel's blacks, and he was not a person, but rather a role. This much of Solunarian culture he understood—he could efface himself for the greater good just as Finn ceased to be when he was truly inspired, thinking rather that he was channeling something ineffable.

Aværys' grace made him feel greater. He could feel his power brimming within him, and the confidence of his compatriots, so the grace must have been extended to them as well.

Kherdroth sensed something, but Finn couldn't be sure what. He couldn't sense anything with thoughts or feelings that he would recognize as such even at the edges of his awareness. He couldn't sense his shadow coming to life behind him, a magical threat all his training hadn't prepared him for. He had minded Hilana's warning and wasn't so far away. After all, he wanted the light of Aværys to shine upon Hilana and Khyan.

He caught the edge of Hilana's fear and turned just in time to catch the weight of darkness that spun him the rest of the way around, pain blossoming from his shoulder. His weight suddenly felt off, and something hit the ground. He didn't understand the music, even as he was bombarded by Khyan's pain, the wyvern's confusion and sharp instincts.

For some reason he thought of Lyra, far away in Kalzasi or wherever she had gone. Then he heard her symphony, which was entirely wrong, and a darkness rose to fight the darkness that—

"KHYAN!"

But his friend slumped to the ground even as an amalgam of Mesmer and divine shadows were loosed from a mark he hadn't known he carried. Perhaps Hilana would see it, the shadow blooming from Finn's hand where it lay on the ground between his feet.

Finn's vision was swimming, though he wasn't entirely aware that blood was gushing from where his left arm had once been attached to his shoulder. In a moment of clarity, he felt his anger sing its song to his emblem, and all his attention focused on the shadow before him.

Fear me.

It grew, or perhaps he had fallen to his knees. His sword came up, though it wobbled, his balance upset by his recent loss. He could feel his vision narrowing, knew that was a bad sign. He couldn't leave his friends to deal with whatever this was on their own.

His crown blazed, the light of Deus Aværys somehow changed, benevolent toward Hilana, but quite the opposite toward their attacker.

FEAR ME.

[Hilana Chenzira]

She followed along after Khyan, and when the light from Finn reflected on the metal, Hilana crouched down to scoop it up, pulling it free of the earth with a gentle request to the earthen spirits. It seemed to be in good shape, at least, and similar to a style she was familiar with, and she stuck it through her belt for the time being. She would rather have her hands, and when they stopped later on or landed in Drathera, maybe Khyan could have a look at it and tell her what there was to see about it. One never knew when something seemingly mundane would turn into something opposite; her Volumen Errantis was proof of it.

But as she looked at where the wyvern seemed to focus on, Hilana squinted, trying to get a sense of whatever was around them. All of a sudden, the shadows seemed to erupt, the dark colour staining the luminescent fields around them. It was faster than she could have expected, because all of a sudden, Khyan was impaled by shadow, and Finn’s left arm fell to the ground as yet another blade of darkness sliced and blood sprayed. ‘Danger!’ came the reaction of the earth spirits. Apparently they hadn’t known what it was either, or it was nothing until that moment in which it was attacking. Her medical kit, her restoratives, and her cleaning solutions and coagulants were all in her backpack that was still on her shoulders, all she needed to do was retrieve them. Both of her friends needed care, and they needed care immediately.

Triage dictated that Finn’s more grievous wound was dealt with first, but Khyan’s had a chance of doing more damage, as the lance was still embedded. But with the lance embedded... That gave her some clue as to where the monster that was attacking was. With His light fueling her Rune, Hilana chose to Manifest fire, and she began to spread it. All along the shadow lance, and as far as she could follow with her eyes, the Vastiana was determined to set the assailant ablaze. Daemon had taught her before what to do with the shadow creatures, earlier in the season when she had met him. She had avoided the creatures since that encounter with the Mask at home while she had practiced her skills with the elements, but she had watched the winged demigod take care of business. And now it was her turn. Her eyes reflected the fire that she had conjured, she remembered to breathe while she focused. Remember that you are Fire. Burn. Tame. Adapt. Ignite! Where the shadow blade that had attacked Finn had been, the girl was determined to Manifest the flame on it, too.

“We need a portal to as close to home as you can manage, Finn, please,” Hilana told him. Her voice was calm, but there was an urgency to it as forced herself into calmness. Panic didn't help anyone, because none of them could afford for her to lose her head now. Drathera would have to wait. This needed immediate care beyond her own skills, and she knew it. Even if she had a full surgical kit with her, or the ability to Manifest the element of metal to make all the tools she required... this was not a smart choice of an operating room. The Divine Light that came from his Emblem seemed to counteract the shadows, if she had to hazard a guess, especially since she was not retreating from them to try to strengthen the mask, and that meant she was going to have to wait in order to use the one fail-safe she had on her. But time was precious, and truthfully, she knew she didn’t have a lot of it to triage both of them. If her gambit with the fire was successful in getting it to retreat, or better yet, immolating them, then hopefully, she could brace and catch Khyan before he hit the ground.

[Lyra]

What grievous sin it was to harm one claimed by the Lady of Whispers. The mark, a visage of a coiled serpent surrounded by musical notes shifted visibly on the skin of the hand on the dethatched arm, the serpents eyes blinking once before a torrent of shadows erupted into the sky. Across the seas Lyrielle felt as the mark was activated, and her eyes turned toward the horizon as she touched the fragment of herself, the whisper left to Finn, awoke in this foreign land.

*****

The billowing cloud of black smoke and shadow quickly spread across the area, with Finn becoming the epicenter of its vortex. Soft whispers filled the air, voices of women, children and men of all ages called out in unintelligible longing. Then tendrils of mesmer caressed the man's symphony, familiar, questioning, enraged. It offered a connection, like a hand extended for Finn to take, and if he did a link would snap into place as a series of memories, thoughts and emotions were shared between them.

The smoke formed into the shape of a woman, ethereal as the darkness which made up her form scattered and reformed in an endless cycle. Silver hair and golden eyes rimmed in crimson, dark lines that ran the length of her body and undulated in unnatural patterns, and the shape of fingers or hands pressing beneath her skin as if souls of the damned struggled to be released. Though she was only an echo in her current form, to look upon her was to dance on the edge of madness. She was careful to form so that she were behind Finn, her arms wrapping his neck as she stared down at the thing which Finn now faced. Fury renewed, from which this mark was born, reignited as she focused her own will into wave of magic to assault the creatures mind and shatter its symphony, to leave it witless and open to the spikes of shadows which she sent from her form to impale it as it had Khyan.

"Be'lafel... We heed your call." She said in his ear, her eyes looking to still bleeding site where his arm had been. Annoyance mixed with pity that her work had been so callously undone. The distance as it was limited her, but she placed a hand on Finn's shoulder focusing to slow the bleeding while she returned her attention to Finn.

"Our time is short." Even as she spoke the magic which held her form together was being spent. It was not intended to sustain the full might of her power, and the aether stored in the mark was quickly being used up, "Tell us what you desire."

[Pharaoh]

At Finn's command, creatures which knew nothing of fear learned it anew. These monsters of darkness now condescended to blanch at the sight of the bard, literally seeming to become less corporeal. They might have knelt if they had joints to bend, but instead they froze in place- jarred and disoriented by the alien impulses. The moment didn't linger long, as Hilana's flame woke the creature from whose spear like appendage Khyan slid, with another new sensation: Pain. It emitted a shriek that roused its counterpart from its stupour in time to dodge the Vastiana's next attempt, as the first withdrew- still aflame.

Meanwhile in Northern Solunarium...

"Fæx..." On a distant mountain top, bronzed shoulders slumped as golden eyes snapped open. Once again drawn forth from His musings and meditations, the Rex Regnum rose and glanced to His cupbearer circling overhead.

"I shall return." He said without speaking, as he rose in one fluid motion from seated to standing to levitating and from forth the flaming crown of His nimbus burst an orb of light into which he ascended.

► Show Spoiler

Back at Melindranovispont...

Darkness pervaded the meadow once more as another power entered the fray and decimated Finn's assailant as its counterpart succumbed to Hilana's flames, dissipating with the final embers that burned at the last of its tangible form.

Other creatures began to amass, using the abundance of shadow created in the interloping entity's wake to travel from the shadow of the treeline to the luminescent meadow. Ten more of the creatures rose up out of the shadows, but made no further advance nor took any hostile action, given pause by the fate of their brethren. Their empty eyes looked skyward.

A point of light appeared above the umbral skies of eclipsed Ecith. The speck became an orb became a small simulacrum of the sun and faded to reveal that the source of its lustre was the fit form of Aværys. Regarding the scene below even as He descended toward it, Aværys grimaced at the sight of those same fell creatures that had assailed Them at Kaladon as They were released.

He paused to hover above Finn, whose glowing crown grew far brighter in answer to the presence of its Source. Aværys regarded the avatar with a scowl.

"Aye, Finn." He intoned through clenched teeth, "Tell her what thou desirest." His lips curled into a foreboding sneer.

[Finn]

Perhaps he had lost more blood than he imagined, though he was feeling faint. He was a channel for powers greater than himself, though: Deus Aværys for one, and apparently, Lyra, for another. Surely she hadn't vaulted behind him, curling a protective arm about him. He daren't look behind him, however, even as Hilana's fire and Lyra (or the figment of his imagination) seemed to command shadows of her own, another mystery about her he would never unravel.

"My mysterious benefactress..." he greeted her in more fluent Vallenor than she had known him to possess, whether she were truly there or not. "Sustain me yet a while longer."

Then Aværys too was there, more properly a miraculous apparition than Lyra, though somehow more believable. He fell to one knee, then, dropping his sword to clutch his wound. Perhaps it was blood loss; perhaps it was worship. He had thought Talon might be the one to appear at his death, being a friend. He had thought Syren might be the one to appear at his death, being the Patroness of Song. He wished Arvælyn could be there for him at the end, and his parents, though perhaps they were all better off not seeing him like this.

Time was growing short. He could feel it. Despite the heat of the day, the second sun blazing above him in all His beauteous splendor.

Pain was transmuted to Fear. The shadows seemed to respond to it, so he poured it out at them, more powerful perhaps for Aværys' nearness. Let those that survived tell their brethren about the mortal bogeyman. He just wanted the shadows to scatter long enough to ensure his friends' safety and survival. Perhaps Lyra was there. Perhaps it was Shaeoth. Fear. Shadows. There was no vengeance in his heart, though, only the clarity of final purpose.

His gaze snapped to Kherdroth, and he used his Rune as Vrædyn had named it: Command. Fly home now. There was no room for dissent.

He vaulted to Khyan, letting his own wound bleed so he could gather his first Vastian friend in his remaining arm as gently as he could. Then he opened a proper portal to the Silver Sentinels' Medica, where he had brought Emryn for treatment for exposure and been himself several times for injuries incurred in the line of duty to Arvælyn's homeland.

To Aværys, "If the Grimlord doesn't take me, let me be reborn an elf that I may have more days to spend with Arvælyn."

"Hilana..." He looked to her, made eye contact, and then vaulted through the portal, not trusting to his legs. "Help him," he Commanded. A startled healer took Khyan's limp form from him. Another rushed over to Finn himself as he slumped, piteously unable to catch his fall when his phantom limb didn't prove strong enough to catch him. He looked up. Lyra truly was there; she must have been carried through the portal with him.

"M'sorry... wasted your work on m'hand..." His words were slurring, his lips and tongue not working quite as they should. His eyes turned back toward the portal, the which he would hold open for as long as he could so Hilana could escape to safety. Kherdroth would bring her things back to Solunarium for her. Thankfully, Aværys on one side of the portal and the Sceptre on the other made his portal immune to the effects of the strange Eclipse. It was just a matter of staying alive long enough to see Hilana through.

Delirious, he began to compose, singing to himself as he died.

"Back at school, vicious as Vastian rule
I had my knuckles bruised by a lady in black
I held my tongue as she told me, 'Son,
Fear is the heart of love'
So I never went back..."

[Hilana Chenzira]

With the success of the combination of Finn’s Majesty and her Manifested fire, Hilana was satisfied for the moment that they had no further attackers from the creatures that were swarming. That didn’t mean the girl chose to let her guard down, but it meant that she could deal with the fact one of her best friends had lost his arm and the other had been stabbed. But there was also the... well, Hilana didn’t know what Lyra was or what she was doing there, but her shadows had seemed to help, and Finn wasn’t fighting against her... Further, she was doing something to staunch the blood flow, which was needed, because with her Mask, there was still far too much Light coming from Finn’s Emblem. There were shadows coming out of her too, and she remembered what Daemon had shown her, and the similarities between that attack and the one that had stabbed Khyan certainly concerned her. But the healer couldn’t dwell on that right now. She needed to get over there and clean it, pack it, and start chilling the arm, too. The Vastiana was in position to catch Khyan when he slumped forward, bracing him easily to support his weight and shifting him slightly as she pulled the fabric of his riding clothes aside to investigate the wound. That needed to be Suppressed, he would need it cleaned out and doubtless stitches and restoratives...

She realized that the creatures were looking up as she shifted her pack to try to get one arm free so that she could get out one of her solutions in order to stop the wound from bleeding further and burn out all of the impurities that might lead to a nasty infection. While Hilana looked up, getting the bottle free from her bag, her eyes widened at the form appearing. “Your Divine Radiance,” she whispered, sinking on one knee respectfully, bringing Khyan’s inert form down with her. She made sure that his airway was unobstructed, and she kept him against her while she opened the bottle after giving it a quick shake and starting to sluice it through the wound. From his angle it would at least have a way to come out, and the solution would help the wound coagulate. She could hear the...well, she thought that that might have been disapproval in the Golden Founder’s words, and her eyes darted up from her task to see that sneer. It didn’t seem to be aimed at her, but at the woman of shadows that had appeared and was embracing her friend.

And then Finn was there and took Khyan from her, as Hilana was alarmed by the fact that he was even doing that. “I got him,” she protested. “You shouldn’t be lifting--” the northerner Vaulted away again, through the portal, and Hilana got up, shouldering her rucksack again. “Forgive us, Your Divine Radiance,” she apologized to her God, scrambling to grab the arm that had been left behind. She was already cleaning the bloody end with the cleansing solution, willing the air spirits to keep it cool as she hiked her dark green skirts with her other hand, sprinting through the portal.

“We made it,” she assured Finn. “You will be fine.” She had no idea where they were, but it was some kind of infirmary, and that meant that there was a surgical theatre, surely. She stayed out of the way, pressing herself against the wall. They already had a team here. Sure, she knew what she was doing, but this was their dominion in the same way that Sweet Remedies was hers. “His arm,” she confirmed with one of the workers, and would keep it cold until someone took it from her. “They were attacked by shadow creatures. He was impaled from behind by one of them and the subvigil’s arm was amputated by another.” Once the arm was taken from her, Hilana willed her Mask to hide her once more, letting her presence, aura and symphony fade away from the senses of others.

[Lyra]

The request was a simple one, so like the man she had taken under her care. Humble though it was, the selfishness of it still drew a smile on Lyra's lips. The presence that gathered above them made that smile fade slightly. Around them the shadow creatures began to spring forth from the darkness, but were held back by the pressure of those gathered at their center.

"As you wish." Voice low and sultry, Lyrielle looked up at the demigod above, the smile spreading wider than before as she pressed her hand into the stump of Finn's shoulder. With the last of the built of aether she channeled her blood magic across the seas, suffusing the wound and activating innervate to stem the worst of the bleeding and begin a slow process of healing. Slowly the flow of blood reduced to a trickle, but Lyrielle left it open enough that, perhaps, the arm might be reattached if something were done soon.

Like a cloak of dark mist Lyrielle clung to Finn as he leapt into action, her form dissipating to the point her physical features were no longer distinguishable. Only her eyes, crimson in the shadows that trailed in the bard's wake, remained.

When finally he collapsed Lyra fought to reform just enough that her head and shoulders were visible to Finn, one hand trailing his cheek and resting on his neck. She stared down at him from above, and shook her head with a familiar look of exasperation as she replied to her foolish beneficiary.

"To one such as I, the cost was barely felt and worth every expense." a rare look of compassion flickered in her eyes. The last of her magic was burning away as Hilana made it through the portal. Disipating her form Lyra focused and her hand on Finn's neck solidified fully. A series of strokes etched a mark in his skin, a brand like a coiled serpent which scarred over even as it was made. What was left of her essence flowed into the mark, lighting it with a soft golden color, before it faded and the last whispered words reached Finn's ear.

"Three times you may call, and three times we will answer. Across distances, through space, or in dreams. We will answer."

► Show Spoiler

Lyrielle has placed a brand on Finn, a replacement for the mark lost on hand. The brand is an eldritch boon which, when invoked, will let he and Lyrielle speak with one another for a short time. When used Finn's consciousness will be pulled to Lyrielle's soul space, leaving his body vulnerable. After the third use the mark will disappear.

The brand itself does not possess any of the protective measures the previous mark had. What little aether remained was used to prevent Finn dying from blood loss, and to place the boon.

[Pharaoh]

Kherdroth's long neck whipped toward Finn as the divine commandment was lodged and, answered with a resonant bellow that reverberated through the meadow, he took flight and obliged his sacred order.

"You would make a fair Moonborn, I'll be bound..." The Golden God conceded with a faint smile radiating with noonday warmth that pervaded even the agony of a lost limb with a balming effect.

With Lyrielle attending to Finn directly, Aværys saw no reason to expend effort toward the same end. Instead, He observed how His chosen behaved in the midst of this crisis... An unscheduled test of his mettle and an enlightening revelation into where instinct led the pretty bard.

He inclined His head to Hilana at her address, but voiced no verbal reply. The creatures of shadow were fixated upon the divine light emanating from Aværys, but they seemed hesitant to approach Him, which granted the mortals the freedom to act- Finn rushing to help the slender Vastian boy, before establishing a conduit to the safety of Solunarium proper.

With the wyvern in flight, the mortals through the portal and the Other fading out of sight, Aværys found himself alone with the shadow wraiths. Perhaps the mortals would see him descending- his feet alighting on the glowing grass, as He addressed the erstwhile assailants.

"Fie on ye, who would, with fell and chaotic ambitions, mar the comely symmetry of My Chosen. There be no place for ye in Our presence. Let shadow be purged 'neath the puissance of Our gaze at its zenith." A blinding light poured forth from the portal as golden beams of concentrated light surged forth from the eyes of the demigod and tore through all that he looked upon. And then the portal with Finn's eyes, as medici rushed to tend to the work at hand.

"Fleshweavers! Bring forth the arm!" The lead medicus ordered, as he applied Kinetic pressure to Khyan's wound and other healers rushed to ply their art to stabilise the wounded. Fortunately, Finn's frame of reference as a Silver Subvigil led them to one of the best places in Solunarium for the situation at hand: The infirmary at the Vigilia Argenti Prætorium.

Meanwhile at The Palatium Umbrarum...

"We simply need to have a greater presence in the Expanse if we're to assert our-..." The Princeps Draconum winced, pausing mid-thought as his Symphony was pierced by the agony of his amatus. Abruptly turning from the other members of the draconic privy council, he rushed toward a window and leapt out- his wings spreading to their full span, as he launched himself over the Umbrium and made for the source of the pain and panic pervading his Symphony- an unfamiliar sensation from an all-too-familiar source.

Alighting on a window sill in the infirmary and leaping down onto the floor, nostrils flared and pluming with smoke, Arvælyn rushed for Finn, whose Symphony cried out to him like a beacon.

"Fix him." His voice was a chorus of preternatural authority, every tone and overtone of which emphasised the inexorable import of his command.