Post by Tybresa Farrister-Cassalantar on Mar 23, 2013 12:29:26 GMT -5
October 7th, 20 CLE - Two days after the Master Tactician's acceptance into the League of Legends; Senior Steward's office
Tybresa was sitting at her desk, shuffling through a couple of reports in front of her. She would keep re-reading them over and over, making sure that she wouldn't forget a single detail ...
She let out a sigh and leaned back on her chair - any time now, she would be expecting the latest champion to enter her office in order to discuss the protocols of the Institute and settle the champion records before they leave for the Archives.
She looked around the office - she made certain that everything would be in pristine condition, with not a single speck of dust on the furniture. A detail caught her eye - the left chair standing in front of her desk was unaligned with the right one, breaking the symmetry.
She quickly stood up from her seat and arranged the chair. She clapped her hands together, seeming proud of herself. She took in a deep breath - why was she so nervous about this, though? This was her second year as the Senior Steward and she had already gotten used to the procedure of handling newly-inducted champions.
Tybresa slowly paced back to her seat and slumped on it, absentmindedly bringing her hand to the tight-fitted black silken choker gracing her neck, a single, purple gem in the middle - the badge of service of a Steward. She closed her eyes and repeated the facts once again in a soft voice.
Master Tactician Jericho Swain, of Noxus - important figure of the High Command, and now a champion of the League of Legends, representing Noxus ...
Tybresa blinked - not because she had forgotten something, but that something was bothering her instead. She leaned forward to her desk and opened the champion's folder again. Everything seemed in order - all the required fields were filled, a sensible description of his background was already provided so that summoners are able to know their champions better - but when she turned to look at the Judgement, it was missing. When she asked about it, all she got was blank answers and ignorant shrugs.
I should ask the High Councilor about this - something does not seem right ... she muttered to herself.
She let out a sigh and leaned back on her chair - perhaps she is simply overreacting. Surely there is a credible explanation for the lack of Judgement - perhaps it was delayed and it should be sent her way soon enough ...
She shook her head, as if attempting to get rid of the thoughts running through her head. She was certain that her worries would leave her as soon as the filing procedure was well undergone and things would fall back to normal within the Institute of War.
All she had to do is be patient, and await the arrival of the Master Tactician.
Post by The Master Tactician on Mar 23, 2013 13:16:21 GMT -5
A sharp rapping came upon the chamber door: brisk, imperious, a visitor entreating entrance to the summoner's domain. The door was left slightly ajar and swung open after contact with the visitor's knuckles. There he stood, a sinister silhouette in the doorway, a red-eyed raven leering from his shoulder. He crossed the threshold, issuing his gruff greeting: "Madame," the slightest respectful incline of his half-shorn head.
Kah-thunk-thunk. Cane in hand, he crossed the dustless room. Crimson eyes darted here and there in shrewd observation of his surroundings: the perfectly positioned chairs, the folder upon the table, the woman in her summoners' attire. Very young. Nervous, perhaps. Betrayed by the twinkling doubt in her blue eyes. The slightest of smirks crinkled the man's pre-mature agelines. He appeared middle-aged, though the slight hunch with which he walked, the cane gripped in his right hand, his wrinkled visage, were features of an older man.
The Master Tactician paused some feet from the Summoner Steward, folding scarred hands over his cane. He was clad in the impressive military ensemble of a Noxian magus-general, shrouded from the nose down, a picture of regal composure. He lifted his chin as he addressed her, "I hope my timing is agreeable."
Post by Tybresa Farrister-Cassalantar on Mar 23, 2013 14:18:45 GMT -5
Tybresa flinched slightly in her chair as she heard the knock on her door. When it opened, she promptly stood up and smiled politely as the Master Tactician made his entrance. She curtsied and bowed her head respectfully.
Master Tactician Swain - welcome to my office. Please, have a seat and make yourself comfortable.
She gestures at the chairs set in front of her desk.
I do believe congratulations are in order. Tybresa spoke in a diplomatic tone, a warm smile playing on her lips. Noxus needs more champions to represent her and the worth of her people on the Fields of Justice.
Tybresa threw a glance at the red-eyed raven perched on his shoulder, slightly narrowing her eyes. She could feel something ... off, about the bird. Something unnatural. Her blue eyes focused back on the man in front of her as he spoke - she nodded politely.
Of course, champion - I have been expecting you. If I may say so, yours must be the most agreeable timing I've had so far. Other champions tend to get side-tracked and forget to come by my office. It feels good to see there are people that still take things with the punctuality and seriousness it deserves.
Post by The Master Tactician on Mar 23, 2013 18:30:12 GMT -5
With another polite nod of his head, he acknowledged her congratulations. "Many thanks. Indeed she does." His eyes flashed in careful study of the woman behind the desk, piercing, slightly luminous. The general lowered himself into the recently straightened left chair, leaning slightly upon his cane, his gaze never leaving his assessor's face. She wore a warm smile, but the narrowing of her eyes did not elude him. A buzz of suspicion in the air seemed to indicate that this meeting were more than simple protocol, but despite the tension, the man's impassive air never faltered. Whatever information the steward wished to gain from their exchange, he would glean just as much from his shrewd study of her every gesture, her every word.
"I am a very busy man, steward," The Master Tactician offered, "I assume you to place equal value upon your time." At his shoulder, Beatrice stretched and re-folded her wings. Her master lifted his chin, continuing politely, "Shall we begin? How may I be of service?"
Post by Tybresa Farrister-Cassalantar on Mar 24, 2013 5:18:48 GMT -5
Tybresa listened as Swain spoke, the friendly smile never leaving her lips. She nodded to his statement and spoke softly
Of course, champion. I have your folder right here, on my desk, open and ready to be discussed.
She tapped the papers in front of her desk, as if wanting to highlight her statement. Her eyes lingered on the raven, smiling fondly at its display. Tybresa was fond of birds - a trait she inherited from her father's side of the family - and so she couldn't help herself from a polite remark.
Your companion is a very beautiful exemplary of the Corvus species, Master Tactician. Usually the Council of Equity frowns upon champions bringing their pets to the Institute, but I see it is very well-trained - I'm not surprised, considering how intelligent they are.
She shakes her head. But of course, back to the matter at hand. I simply wish to bring to your attention that, within the Institute, there is a circle - a council, if you will - that oversees the well-functioning of the Institute, including summoners and champions. We are the Stewards and should you have need of anything, never hesitate to call on us. We are always serving, never faltering - as it is our motto.
She nodded, a pleased smile playing on her lips - she seems quite proud of her status in the Steward Council.
Now, why I have asked for your presence here, is because each Steward are given a portion of the Champion base to personally oversee and look after. It has happened that I have been your assigned Steward - so, by all means, if you have any complaints, requests or questions you wish to address regarding anything about the Institute or the League of Legends, you may come and see me and I shall do my best to help you and represent your case at the Council of Equity should it come to it. I can only hope that we will cooperate and work well with each other in the future.
She smiles once again, looking at the champion in front of her with a friendly expression on her face.
Post by The Master Tactician on Mar 24, 2013 18:07:49 GMT -5
"I assure you, she will not be a distraction," Swain offered in reference to his fiendish familiar, who clicked her beak in accordance. She seemed to watch the summoner with the same calculating intensity as her master. A mirthless half-smile crept over the champion's features. "How thoughtful of the League to provide a go-between. Your name, madame, if I may?" Though it was likely printed on the door to the office, The Master Tactician withheld his assumptions in favor of propriety.
"I don't think we'll come to any issues. I am curious, however, in regards to scheduling. I have not yet received word of any matches for which I should prepare--though I imagine I will be granted ample notice prior to such things." He raised his brows questioningly. "And had you questions of me, summoner? A little bird implies that there is some paperwork that needs completing."
Post by Tybresa Farrister-Cassalantar on Mar 25, 2013 11:31:27 GMT -5
Tybresa tilted her head slightly at the question - she would have thought he knew her name - but nevertheless, she returned a polite smile.
I am Tybresa Farrister-Cassalantar and always at your service as the Senior Steward, Master Tactician.
As not only the Senior Steward, but the Steward you were assigned to, I will personally contact you and let you know should your presence be expected on the Fields of Justice, champion.
Tybresa glanced down at a nearby report laying on her desk. She slid her finger over it, seemingly skimming for something, before she spoke in a cheery tone.
As of now, you would actually be expected to participate at a match on the Rift on October twelfth - that would be in in five days, Master Tactician. I hope it would be more than enough time to prepare yourself, but if you think you need to be noticed far earlier than that, then all you have to do is tell me so, and I will make certain it will happen.
She nodded and centered the champion's folder on her desk before she had an amused smile playing on her lips.
I do believe your bird has you well-informed, Master Tactician. Your records seem to be pristine - everything is filled in and already approved by the Council of Equity.
She hesitated for a moment.
However, there seems to be something missing ...
She raised her eyebrow quizzically.
With all due respect, champion, but you have undergone the Judgement Process after your application was accepted, yes?
Post by The Master Tactician on Mar 27, 2013 14:53:02 GMT -5
The slightest of nods indicated his acknowledgement of the date of his impending match. He watched her impassively, in silent reception of her monologue--but at her final words, bushy brows lifted, crinkling The Master Tactician's forehead. Beatrice lifted her wing to smooth down the feathers beneath. "Yes, madame. I have," he offered simply.
Silence again. Luminous eyes flashed in scrutiny of the steward. No further information was offered; if she had a specific inquiry, it would be answered, but he'd not be moved to divulge that which was not sought after.
Post by Tybresa Farrister-Cassalantar on Mar 28, 2013 6:15:01 GMT -5
Tybresa blinked - she had expected a more ... enlightening answer than that. Her eyes darted over the blank sheet laid in front of her desk - was she simply over thinking things? Maybe ...
But she didn't give up just yet - she had to probe in a bit further without seeming suspicious. She tilted her head slightly, and spoke out in a soft, inquiring tone.
...did it go as you would have expected, Master Tactician?
Post by The Master Tactician on Mar 30, 2013 23:41:42 GMT -5
One corner of his mouth drew up in bemused consideration of her question. Curiosity was evident in the the pause she gave before she spoke, in the subtle wandering of her eyes over the page. "I came with a few expectations, madame steward, and those were met. The Institute's mind-linking rituals are impressive indeed."
He folded his hands over his cane and rested his chin upon them. The sleeves of his military robe fell back to reveal marred flesh from fingers to wrists, as though burns of some kind had warped his skin into a textured mass, blotched unevenly, discolored. "Very real," he mused calmly, his luminous eyes seeming to dim, to distance themselves from the quaint decor of the room, to recall another time.
But, then, in an instant, the purposeful fires within them flared again. His gaze snapped back upon the summoner. He tilted his head. "Why, if I may, do you ask?" The transcription was missing, of course: no record of his conversation with Vessaria. No, that was a risk she'd never take. But, thoughtful and powerful as she was, he'd presumed she would contrive a believable account of his judgment. Apparently not.
There, withered hands folded over his cane, The Master Tactician feigned polite ignorance to his records' missing components.
Post by Tybresa Farrister-Cassalantar on Mar 31, 2013 7:49:40 GMT -5
Tybresa nodded thoughtfully - there would be no doubt that the Master Tactician had indeed undergone the judgement. She looked at him with a kind expression, her tone ever-polite and respectful.
As it should be, Master Tactician - the Judgement Ritual is one of the most critical steps for each newly-inducted champion. It would be the first time one actually melds with the mind of a summoner and have their being adjusted to the magical frequencies of the Nexus Crystals. And, for the first and only time in each champion's lives, does the League dare to go through the personal memories of a champion in order to gauge and better understand their true motives.
With that said, I can only hope you won't hold it against me for inquiring about it ... it can be ... quite a harrowing experience, for some, and it helps ease their mind if they wish to talk about it.
She glanced once more at the blank page in front of her and let out a soft sigh - there was no point keeping it from him. After all, she would want to prove to him that there is strong bond of trust, as it should be between each champion and their designated Steward. It would be unfair not to tell him...
And ... to be completely honest. I fear that yours seems to be missing from your own champion files. She tilted her head slightly, an apologetic look in her eyes. Our deepest apologies, I can only assume there has been a small ... error among the distribution.
She perked up and looked at him with an otherwise cheery expression. But, no matter! I will personally make sure to inquire about it from the High Councilor herself. This small mistake will be quickly dealt with, Master Tactician.
Indeed, the moment he would depart, she had better make haste - the nagging thought at the back of her head began to stir ...
Tybresa clapped her hands together as as she spoke. But otherwise, I am happy to announce that everything else is in order, champion Swain. Unless you have anything else you wish to inquire or ask of me, I won't be keeping you here any longer. I only hope that you will feel welcome within the Institute and be appreciated as a champion of the League - which, I have no doubts about.
She smiles kindly as she remembered something she figured it would work as a compliment.
My own grandfather speaks very highly of you, Master Tactician - indeed, words of your prowess and cunning has reached my ears long before I had a chance to meet you. Needless to say, I am more than certain you will make Noxus proud.
Post by The Master Tactician on Mar 31, 2013 15:26:36 GMT -5
"Harrowing?" His jaw tightened as he stood. He shook his head, offering no further insight. A tic fluttered in his cheek, but the compliment she payed served to dampen the harshness of his expression, even if only slightly.
"Noxus deserves sufficient representation--and I will see to it that she receives it." Beatrice chirruped in accord. Now on his feet, The Master Tactician lifted his chin. "Good day to you, steward. "Efficiency and strength in whatever you endeavor." He bowed his head politely as he turned to go, Beatrice's tailfeathers swishing in line with his billowing robe. "Until next we meet."
With that, uneven steps carried him from her office. Kah-thunk-thunk, kah-thunk-thunk. Through the Institute's halls he wove and down the stairs he lumbered to the gravel drive outside, where green-and-gilded Noxian carriage stood waiting to bear him away.
Post by Tybresa Farrister-Cassalantar on Apr 5, 2013 12:38:40 GMT -5
Tybresa promptly stood up from her chair and curtsied respectfully, a smiling expression on her face - however, behind that, she couldn't help but worry and wonder. Did she say something that offended him?
She bowed her head. Thank you, Master Tactician - best wishes and may you be forever strong.
Tybresa stood there and watched as the champion hobbled out of her office, each step accompanied by the thunks of his cane on the floor. She propped both her hands on the desk's edge and leaned forward, staring at the blank judgement paper laid in front of her.
She wasn't sure what to make of the Master Tactician ... she felt uneasy in his presence, that is for certain - she only hoped that she didn't show it. The uneasiness was something she couldn't shake off so easily ... it wasn't because of his fearsome reputation, or the great black raven perched on his shoulder - which, by the way, could swear it had six eyes and were glowing red in an unholy fashion ...
Rather, she couldn't shake the feeling that he knew more, far more than he should, and that she was being played a fool, a pawn in a game she didn't even know that was being played ...
What broke her from her reverie was the perfume of the Ionian lilies being brought to her nose by a warm breeze from the open window. Tybresa blinked her eyes and shook her head, and with that, the thoughts plaguing her from her duty. She neatly arranged the papers in the folder and closed it before holding it close to her chest, wrapping her arms around it.
The Steward quickly stepped around her desk and towards the door - she would have to let the High Councilor know that the judgement for the latest champion hadn't reached her. That sent a chilling shudder down her spine - she did not want to bother High Councilor Kolminye with such petty paperwork, but she remembered her asking about the Champion's judgement prior to the ritual ... Vessaria would have to know. She had to.
With a sigh, Tybresa closed the door behind her and made her way down the hall, the clicking of her heels accompanying her every step ... she smiled to herself, a small ironic saying she remembered her father would say about ravens...
She muttered to herself ... Dark wings bearing dark words.
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