All the King's Men

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Falon |


Falon was not one for political games.
He knew court intrigue, how to play people, how to seduce and threaten, but it didn't interest him. He preferred his freedom where he could have it; the open road was his home, not fancy feasts and long, dull meetings. Still, he knew the importance of this moment. He wasn't a fool. Choosing the leaders of a military faction sponsored by the King was much more than just some stiff formality. If the Wardens ever grew beyond what they are now (which is not much, despite their numerous talented individuals), they could very possibly grow to be one of the most influential groups in Ellira... and for that, Falon had to be around.
What he didn't want to be around for was a fellow mage flashing lights to make himself look nice and strong, like a bird puffing it's feathers to attract a mate. Frankly, it gave him a headache.
And apparently this guy was going to be their Tactician. Wonderful.
In any case, Falon didn't have any plans to answer to the mage, however powerful and "high-status" he believed himself to be; he didn't have time for flamboyant idiots. However, the Warden's electing their Commander to be Aslaug came as no surprise. She was their most fitting for the job; a born leader. Not that that, gave Falon any pleasure of admitting. He knew full well her views on mages, though she didn't make it a point to shove it in every passerby's face, and that at least, he could respect. Still, she would do well for the Wardens.
As the leaders were chosen and other topics were brought up, Falon slipped more to the edges of the gathered crowd of Wardens until he spotted a certain white-haired rogue, dressed in some casual clothing he found hard to adjust his usual image of her to. Falon himself was dressed in finer wear than he usually was; in other words the second set of armor he had lying around, you know- the one not completely drenched in dried blood, matted fur, and torn leather. The collar was popped, and it was much more lighter and less meant for fighting than his other set. A shoulder pad that shone from being recently polished, and his chest plate were the only real protection he had from it, but nonetheless.
Bringing his own jar of ale with him, he walked towards the woman, nitpicking at the feast laid out on the table, watching everyone sort themselves out with no voice in the matter. But he also knew her well enough as well to know she probably didn't need a voice in the matter. Probably happier now with Aslaug as the Commander than she has been in ages.
"Get a load of these guys." Falon joked, sipping on his ale, standing now at the same buffet table as her, but with a good two meters between them. He put a hand on the table, shifting some of his weight onto it. "Politics, politics, danger, politics! Flashy lights! Politics! Honestly, you'd think someone would come up with better conversations over dinner than this."
Falon knew full well Ezra didn't like him. They weren't buddy-buddy comrades who would take a sword for one another, they weren't even friends. They'd gotten into more than one down-and-dirty fight from bitter disagreements that didn't end well- especially during training. He was sure she regretted the fact they joined around the same time just as much as he did. Their views were polar opposites, yet, Falon liked to think they weren't that much different from one another. Except, perhaps, for the fact that the elven woman couldn't take a joke.
 
"It was just a joke, mage. Believe me, I have the full confidence in your abilities in battle. But, do they have jokes where you come from? You know, humor? There's no need to be so defensive and confrontational in the company of allies, including the king." Xanthus said, the smile on his face evaporating off in a split second as he spoke to Loque. His now expression one of seriousness, though the look wasn't one of anger as much as disappointment that Loque reacted so violently. He then popped out of his seat, staring right into the older elf's face, his own mysterious dark eyes staring right into Loque's.

"Now why don't you take a seat and let the feast continue?" He asked, still standing face to face with Loque, yet not close enough that they touched. "If you have an issue with me, then we can settle it afterwards, at a proper place, in a proper time." He added, these words quieter than the others.

@HellHoundWoof
 
Ezra was paying no mind to anyone's business, until she picked up a familiar voice.

"Get a load of these guys."

She snorted lightly, with no trace of kindness found. "Funny. I might've thought you would be impressed by your fellow kind."

Her eyes still remained on the variety of platters on the buffet, she didn't need to see who it was. It was obviously Falon--the man of jest and games; and the same man she recalled having a tussle with back in the days of training. Even now, they still have fights here and there; about mage rights, especially (She rolled her eyes once she remembered). But he never held a grudge against her. And now that she thinks about it, he may have probably forgotten her spiteful insults towards him or he chose to ignore it. But it doesn't matter now. What she only know is that if they start a fight in the party, they'd be tossed out immediately like stray cats.

She nitpicked her share of grapes with a fork, until one of them fell off her plate.

As expected, Falon went on with his usual exaggerated banter. "Politics, politics, danger, politics! Flashy lights! Politics! Honestly, you'd think someone would come up with better conversations over dinner than this."

Ezra popped a grape in her mouth and chewed absently, "They're deciding for a leader, Falon. It's important to maintain a balance in the group." Her nose wrinkled in disgust. She didn't expect the fruit to be sour. The elf set her plate away, feeling famished. "Unlike you, they're actually serious about this." She wasn't sure if Falon caught her words, as it might've been drowned by the sea of crowds and noisy chatters.

Character Mentioned:
Falon - @Sapphy
 
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Loque looked the man over, the two could have fought. While the man himself seemed to be an ordinary warrior Loque decided not to take his skill at face value. After a moment of bickering with the thoughts in his head, challenge him to a duel and either turn him to a charred corpse or somehow die, talk it out later, shrug it off and act smartly.

"Perhaps we will talk later, discuss this event and come to a suitable agreement to prevent further incidents like it," Loque said with a cheeky smile walking back towards the King and the discussion of who was to lead and who was to do what.
 
Falon |


"Funny. I might've thought you would be impressed by your fellow kind."
"Please, I'm a mage, not an idiot. Flashing lights give me headaches, and my kind is persecuted enough as it is without unnerving and upsetting more than half the Wardens in this place, pro-mage or otherwise."
Falon watched from a distance as tensions grew between the other warden and the aforementioned flashy mage, eyebrows furrowed, wondering if they would actually try something as stupid as fighting. Luckily for everyone, everything cooled down before anyone had the chance to draw their sword. He turned his head back to Ezra, eyes scanning the array of foods on the highly decorated table. He had been to assemblies like this before, granted only one other was with a King, but still. It was one of his favorite stories as well; a fancy man, that King, liked to throw parties- dressed well too! For a poltical ass with a pot-belly as round as a pig's, anyway. The night ended in two duels, a noble's marriage falling into shambles, a drunk man who drowned tripping on another drunk man, and the usual intricate display of wealth and status all nobles has a fondness for. The only thing Falon had fondness over that night was a particularly handsome man and some delicious, imported cakes.
"They're deciding for a leader, Falon. It's important to maintain a balance in the group." Falon smiled at her hissed statement, putting down his ale and biting into a particularly red apple. "You might want to stop trying to pick up the grapes with a fork, or they'll keep falling off." He suggested, a laugh threatening to rise in his chest from watching her eat grapes with such a utensil. He could already feel her glare on him from his friendly offer.
"Unlike you, they're actually serious about this."
Despite the loud noises threatening to drown out her low mumbles, Falon was sharp eared, literally.
"Please, Ezra, when am I not serious?"
He grabbed one of the grapes off her plate, popped it into his mouth, then promptly walked away; deciding it was better to not ruffle the rogue's feather for much longer.
 
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Arthfael. Vienne liked the name. It sounded faithful. She gave a hesitant glance to his hand before meeting it with her own and giving it a solid shake. “Welcome to the Wardens, Arthfael.” She offered another small smile. “I wouldn’t count yourself safe yet. I can think of at least one Warden who is fond of messing with new recruits.” Vienne scanned the room. Her eyes did not find Roshi. She had hoped to point the Elf out. “If someone does try something, don’t take it personally… I’m nearly certain no one would actually try anything which could maim you.” The woman took a moment to focus on eating while the Elf spoke. She’d found some good meat. It was a lot less flavoured than most the dishes. It reminded her of the food she’d eaten when still with her Tribe. She missed them.

Especially her sister.

“I’ve been here a while.” Three years, actually. It seemed a lot longer than it felt when she thought on it. Three years was slightly over half the entire existence of the Exalted Wardens. The Wardens had definitely been good to her. At least when it came to trusting Humans in combat. On the other hand, more than once she had felt quite lonely. There were few among the group who she could consider herself close to. She wasn’t exactly sure what to say after that. Her attention went to eating and she let the noises of the hall take over.

A loud voice announced King Akard. Vienne had never seen the King before, and she was curious. She set her mostly-empty plate down and stood up. She was a fairly tall woman, so it wasn’t hard for her to see over to the table where the King sat. He was a young looking man—younger than her. It was a little surprising. Vienne knew this was largely due to her lack of familiarity with the way Humans and their positions of power worked. He did have a Kingly resonance about him, though. It was nice to have a face for the name. She remained silent throughout the King’s speech. It was rousing. Things would be done, finally.

With a gust of wind the room went dark. Vienne stiffened. Her head jerked toward the door. She tried desperately to see something in the blackness. Useless. She felt her heart speed a little. If the room had remained dark any longer she would have been in a battle stance. A warrior could never be too careful, even in places she felt safe. She scoffed at the rest of the act. She hadn’t been the only one worried. Aslaug had gone to protect the King and a few others had gotten into defensive positions or drawn their weapons. Rill had transformed. Vienne was concerned. Later she would be sure to check on her friend. It wasn’t until King Akard greeted the head mage, this ‘Loque,’ that she was satisfied enough to take an uneasy seat. Any amount of comfort she had previously obtained was lost.

Vienne heard Aslaug’s voice mention her name. It touched her that her comrade held her in such regard. Yet the Feral did not think she would do well placed in charge of such a group. It was much larger and more diverse than any she had had experience with in the past. More than that, though, she did not want any position. She had played the part of Captain before and was not inclined to do so again. Vienne certainly agreed that Aslaug would do well if placed in a role of Leadership. She kept her head and was decisive. Those were great traits for someone to entrust your life to. Still, she kept quiet. Speaking loudly was not her strongest quality.



Saga’s eyes adjusted only shortly after the hall darkened. He could make out figures in the doorway. There were certainly more than a few. About the size of a small attack force. He didn’t think anyone would be brazen enough to actually attack the King’s Hall while his group of personal warriors dined. Still, there was always a surprising amount of people who lacked common sense. There seemed no malicious intent among them, thus he remained seated. When the lights returned and he recognized Loque, Saga resumed eating. Such an entrance seemed an exceptionally unwise tactic. Plenty of people among the Wardens disliked mages. At least a few had suffered personal tragedies due to them. And some people were just careful enough to be worried for their lives. Nonetheless, Saga enjoyed the theatrics and appreciated the time it must have taken for the mages to successfully pull off such a stunt.

His new companions had become more than a little silent and Saga’s attention was focused on the King and the happenings near him. “I’m in support of Aslaug as Captain!” He called out after Sildana expressed her dedication. He felt if someone were up to the task of leading this campaign, it was her. She had certainly helped him when he had first joined. "For Lieutenants I agree with Vienne and Stroud. I'll also suggest Rill and Zuria." With a small hop, Saga removed himself from his chair. All these happenings were something he could get excited about. “Hey, I enjoyed talking with you,” he said as he addressed the two brothers. “Hopefully we can again soon. Until then—Radnor. Ruskin.” A smile crossed his face. After a nod of his head he turned turned sharply. The Wildling went in the direction of the newest recruits with intention to welcome them to the Exalted Wardens.



Ah, so Roshi was the culprit. Ignatius hadn’t personally interacted much with the Elf. However, he had heard about her. This led him to believe it had been a literal blade. “Are you wounded?” The way which Lauchlan said “stunt” seemed reason to inquire about potential harm. If something had happened, Ignatius would be glad to have his healing tome tucked securely next to him. He shifted in his chair again and was ready to rise if need be. He distinctly smelled wine for a moment before it was eaten again by the dozens of blended scents. It would have been nice if Lauchlan had joined him earlier. Nevertheless, Ignatius was glad for the company he now had, at least.

Ignatius chuckled at Lauchlan’s broken speech. Although he would have preferred not to be, he was amused by it. Lauchlan’s night seemed unpleasant enough—he didn’t need someone laughing at him. “My apologies,” his words were followed by another drink. His goblet was almost empty at the point. One or two more sips and it would be gone. Drinking at a slow pace was one of the few things he could thank the banquets at home for. The thought clung to his mind. He was currently at home. Morcrest was his home. Rarely had he left his country’s borders. He was unlike the Wardens who had travelled so many places; those who’d gone there and back again. Many things would be entirely new to him. And perhaps, that troubled him.

Light flickered to dark and there was a loud abrupt sound where Lauchlan sat. It sounded like Lauchlan's chair fell. Light returned. He heard a few more noises directly beside him before Lauchlan spoke. “What was unnecessary? Am I correct in believing it briefly became dark in here?” This was another of the reasons he disliked feasts. So many people caused ruckus in their gaiety that it made it difficult to figure out if he should be worried or not. "...Is everything fine?"

People talked near the King. King Akard asked the Wardens to assign members into certain positions. It seemed a bad idea and Ignatius found himself agreeing with some of Aslaug’s sentiment. The woman also mentioned some names, most of which he was unfamiliar with. Except Lauchlan. That was an odd though. Lauchlan was not someone Ignatius would have picked for Lieutenant. Nonetheless, the man did have some qualities which were good for a leader. He might not be bad in the position. Had Ignatius been closer to the King he would have had suggestions to share. From what he’d witnessed, Rill or Zuria would make a good Lieutenant. Aslaug was definitely one who did well in positions of leadership. She seemed capable of keeping things peaceful. Regardless, if the King was, stupidly, leaving this in the hands of the Wardens than it wasn’t likely going to be decided entirely in one night. He took a final drink and stood from his chair.

“Might you escort me out, Lauchlan?”
 
Weyy quietly sneaked into the room and slid down on the seat next to Erza with a quick "Hi there!" sent to her. He grabbed some food and a jug of beer and begun eating and drinking. "Man analyzing those reports was hell, I asked the King to send spies with the better handwriting to gather data," Weyy talked between bites, more to himself then to the two near him: "Well I guess I can be gratefuller that they were at least literate. When I first came here reports were memorized! Like you can trust memory that much." His bag, always with him was like usual filled with books and on his belt a stiletto hanged along with a large leather strap which held his healing tome.
@senpai


Eýar was actually present in the hall the whole time just he didn't feel like he needed to talk or interact with anyone. Actually that was true even now so he just silently observed the events that were taking place in the hall, seated a few seats from Rill. He sighted a bit at Loque's idiotic "grand" entrance. "That will only make those hateful or fearful of mages tense and that is not good. Really some of us which practice magic," he though while drinking his wine slowly.
(Mentioned only @RainDash)


Razya was late, but with a good reason. Well she had something to do after dealing with a group of pirates based on the coast near the border with Vanthorn and was now rushing back across the sea towards the capital. What she learned ... well it was terrifying, and the King of Morcrest must learn about it. She cloud no longer keep silent, trough she was still unsure what she should do. Should she talk openly and reveal herself or trust some of the veterans? She cloud bet that Aslaug, Weyy or any of the other calmer veterans would know what to do with the knowledge of her identity and what events were going on back home in Kalico. Then she spotted the few lights of Portsmouth and shouted: "Go Meddo! Only a little longer!"
 
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"Well, thanks. That's the first I've gotten."

Arthfael's face twisted into a grimace. He supposed he couldn't be too afraid, so long as his fellow wardens refrained from causing any permanent damage to his person. He'd dealt with worse, certainly, but there always seemed to be something especially terrifying when it came to your own allies trying to harm you. "Take it personally?" he chuckled hesitantly. "Nah, I get the reasoning behind it. I just hope I don't lose my dignity to it." He had a reputation to build, and losing it so quickly to hazing just wasn't going to fly.

"Well, here's hoping you stick around."

Although apparently unaware of the King's sudden presence, Arthfael listened. His chin was resting on his knees and both eyes looked unfocused, but he heard the news as clear as day. A journey, then. As long as whoever they chose to lead said journey knew what they were doing, Arthfael was comofortable enough to follow their orders.

The new appearance of the mage, however, sent a chill up his spine. A cold feeling set deep in his chest and called itself a warning, an uncertain little twinge that rendered him alert to the mage's presence so close to the King. While Arthfael was uncertain how to view the King in the first place, he recognized the man's importance. He sat back and watched.

@Eleyvan
 
"Please, Ezra, when am I not serious?"

From what I remembered, never.

Wanting to finish the poor drink, She began chugging her beer; while she did that, Falon left. Probably off to bother someone else.

Now that there wasn't anything to do, she might as well leave. Taking out a brown paper, Ezra started to pick random food and laid it on the wrapper. When it was filled, she wrapped it up; then got out a string and began to tie a knot. Ezra did it in a quick, efficient way; her hands made no pause. She wasn't worried about it getting cold, she could always roast it near a camp fire. It was people asking her to share if they caught her munching on last night's left-overs. If they asked, no way would she share.

Pushing the tight package aside, she was on her next one when she heard a cheery greeting. From the lack of sleep last night, she isn't sure if she could do cheery at the moment.

"Hi there!" When Ezra side-eyed to her left, she recognized one of the Wardens to be Weyy. They've talked here and there; but not as much. Ezra doesn't recall her being a friendly sort when he attempts to converse. And it's not just him; it's mostly to anyone else. Ezra is anti-social anyway.

She grunted in response, continuing the food-wrapping procedure.

"Man analyzing those reports was hell, I asked the King to send spies with the better handwriting to gather data," He talked in between drinking and eating simultaneously. "Well I guess I can be grateful that they were at least literate. When I first came here reports were memorized! Like you can trust memory that much."

Ezra averted her gaze away, looking more into her small packages than to his mouth. She wouldn't want to see chewed-up bits anyway while he's speaking.

"They are hired by the King himself; they'd do their job to the fullest," She answered flatly. It sounded more of a mutter, as the elf was slightly busy to talk freely. "It's not really surprising. Those spies were probably trained." Ezra grimaced when she thought of her own handwriting. It's all chicken scratch. Even she couldn't read her own, hence why she never writes.

Characters Mentioned:
Falon - @Sapphy
Weyy - @gamer5
 
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Rill stopped eating when one of the mages walked over to introduce himself. She quickly transformed back -it was rude to talk to anyone in animal form- and tried to finish swallowing her food. She then cleared her throat and tried to look somewhat presentable. "Evening. It wasn't a bother, I don't mind being surprised at all! The party was getting boring anyway." Rill smiled and waved her hand, grinning stupidly while doing so. She coughed again and watched Lotus prowl for food. She offered some of the meat she hadn't yet eaten -which wasn't a lot- to the hungry griffin. "Would you like to sit? I wouldn't mind hearing about where you're from, Sadria. Oh, I'm Rill by the way. Sorry, I haven't seen much pleasant company this evening."

She was acting like a childish girl, it was all she could do to contain the nervous giggling. You are the commander of a somewhat known mercenary band. Act like it! She grabbed more wine, trying to pretend that the reason she was blushing so hard was the fact that she was drunk and indeed not completely infatuated with this mage at the moment. He was a mage, he was likely to turn on her at any moment. Besides, he looked flamboyant and completely self involved. She tried to snap from her silly drooling and remain focused. Yes, he is hot, but stay focused. People nearly killed each other.

@PetticoatLane

Roshi remained back while Xanthus nearly started a duel with Loque. When Loque left, Roshi followed him with her eyes until he vanished. When he was truly gone, Roshi walked up to the king and kneeled. When she spoke it was different from before, the tone was flatter, more monotone. "Your majesty. I believe Loque is no longer acting within our interests. Elimination may be necessary to ensure that no missions will be sabotaged moving forward. Do I have your permission to carry out my duties?"

Her duties included killing anyone the king authorized, if they had no prior crimes. It never sat right with her, killing someone without crimes to their name, but it had to be done. For the sake of the king, for the sake of the Exalted Wardens. This action now would keep them safe later, and she would gladly carry that sin with her to her grave. She would be glad to exist nowhere as a spirit or demon. She could rest forever and know that her mission would be done. Revenge gotten, the world at peace, and herself dead.

@Ketori
 
Off to the side of the main feast a sleek weather-worn hand rested on the wooden archway, and a pair of sharp eyes looked at the clamor in the center of the room. Saervel knew immediately who they were, the Wardens, and just as quickly he straightened his posture, tilted his head up, and took a breath. He knew if was better to introduce himself now rather than wait for a moment of silence to show itself. If he stood there ever more likely than not someone would point him out sulking in the corner and his first impression would forever be 'the creepy man watching them from the corner.' It wasn't acceptable.

He stepped forward with confidence, almost with the grace of a dancer, from the corner, letting his lanky fingers push off the entrance frame. His hair, untamed in a mess of silver waves, covering his elven ears, blew past him as the warmth of fire-lit room contrasted his cool skin. His clothes were a simple, yet dignified, a sign of position rather than royalty. If it weren't for the bags under his eyes into his silk complexion from sleepless nights and stressful days one would say he looked absolutely pampered. But it was just his face, he thought. He raised his chin a little higher as he saw a number of people noting his entrance, reactions mixed if existent at all.

Saervel spoke as he walked to the sole empty seat at the far corner opposite of him, "If I may be so bold," He spoke clear with a hint of authority, not waiting a moment for them to silence themselves. "I was not aware the Exalted Wardens were as fierce at devouring their meals as they were their enemies."

It might have been a joke, but his voice gave away only a little humor, and his face held only the hint of a smirk that came and went like a spark. Timing had been fortunate enough to arrive beside his seat so he would not have the trouble to pause, but only few had noticed it. He had hardly taken the center of attention. "Call me Saervel. I've been working alongside your cause for some time, but perhaps we haven't met formally." He still stood, hands rested behind his back. Somehow it didn't feel right for him to sit, so instead he bowed. "Welcome."
 
Before the magical interruption had derailed his train of thought, Lauchlan had dismissed the other's concern of harm. He didn't feel like explaining the entire situation, and he supposed the other would be content knowing that no one had been injured. Or at least he assumed no one had been injured; he had simply left Vidar at Roshi's mercy - and he made a mental note to check up on Vidar after the feast. He doubted Roshi would actually do anything to harm another Warden, but he could never be certain and he didn't want the knight feeling as though he'd done something wrong.

Once a semblance of calm had been restored and Lauchlan had again taken his seat, he directed his attention back to Ignatius and issued a sigh of irritation with the display. "Yes, you would be correct. Some fuck-ass literally just burst in and extinguished all of the candles, moved a group of strangers in while it was dark, then relit the candles to show off." He said, glaring back up toward the space Loque currently occupied. "Apparently a normal entrance just wasn't satisfactory for him. And now he's pissin' because some of us were…displeased with his little show," He added with a sneer. "Pretentious asshole."

Glad to hear the conversation shift back to selecting a leader, Lauchlan found himself in agreement with the suggestions given. It seemed to be of little question that Aslaug would be appointed as Captain and he would gladly follow her; she was level-headed and seemed patient enough to handle the stresses of being made leader of such a group as this. As for Lieutenants, it was sounding as though Rill and Stroud would be named such - and Lauchlan felt a sense of relief. While he was honoured that he had been thought of, he hadn't wanted such a position; he was hardly qualified and, while he and Rill didn't always see eye-to-eye, he felt she would be a suitable leader. While he knew little of Stroud, he was willing to put his trust in Aslaug's decisions. He had yet been to be given reason to doubt anyone within the Wardens, and, though it was slow progress, he was becoming more comfortable with the idea of relying on others.

The sound of tense voices drew Lauchlan's attention away from Aslaug and the king and he saw Xanthus engaged in conversation with Loque - the latter looking rather displeased. Apparently the man had no sense of tact for a diplomat and he was quite sure the two were about to come to blows. A moment later, however, Loque departed, leaving more than one set of eyes trailing him until he had vanished completely.

"Good riddance…" Lauchlan murmured.

Yielding his thought to the mage beside him, Lauchlan nodded. "Gladly," he said, getting to his feet."If I don't get some air soon I think my head may just explode," he added in a murmur, eyes flicking about until they fell on Roshi. She was clearly occupied - and he doubted she'd stop him again as the evening seemed to be winding down.

For a moment, Lauchlan stood beside Ignatius as though waiting for something to happen. Realizing that he probably needed to give the other some sort of prompt, he laid a hand on the man's shoulder and slowly started for the doors, mindful not to run his companion into anything.

"Not to sound like a complete idiot," Lauchlan said, glancing over at the other as they walked, "But where, exactly, are we headed?" He had planned to wait out the rest of the banquet in the courtyard, but he had no idea if that was agreeable with the other.

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Unable to suppress his excitement at witnessing Rill's transformation back into a human, Sadira took a step closer, clearly fascinated and impressed. As she spoke of the party being boring, he canted his head slightly to the side, a quizzical expression on his features. He didn't understand how (even without magic) a group such as this could ever be considered "boring". Nevertheless, she seemed pleased to have someone else to converse with, and Sadira gave the woman an appreciative smile as she offered some of her dinner to Lotus. The gryphon eyed Rill for a moment, then gingerly took the morsel from her before devouring it with a quick tip of her head.

"She is grateful," Sadira said, still smiling down at the Wildling, "We have not had an opportunity to eat much today."

Behind him, Lotus clicked her beak and issued a soft crooning sound at Rill, giving her an expectant look.

"Manners, Lotus," he said, glancing back at the animal, "It is not polite to beg."

The gryphon flicked her tail in agitation and sat down, looking utterly scandalized.

As Rill introduced herself, Sadira gave another slight bow and extended a hand to take one of hers, gently lifting it up to press a light kiss to the back of it. He had immediately learned that the traditional Sandrian greeting of kissing another on the cheek was not well-received in the Northern kingdoms and he had since made do with a less intrusive salutation. He hoped she would not be offended - women tended to take more kindly to it than men, at any rate.

"It is an utmost pleasure to make your acquaintance, Rill." Again he smiled and released her hand as he spoke, "I would be happy to converse with you about my home." Well, he supposed he couldn't really call it home anymore. Not after being banished - which probably wasn't the best way to start a conversation. "I am from Sandris in Balefall," he said, then gestured to the fur-lined cloak he wore, "I have been traveling in the Northern kingdoms for three years now, but I am not yet accustomed to the weather. It is a bit cold for our liking, though there are some truly amazing sights here. Are you from Morcrest?" He asked, folding his hand on his lap. He was trying not to riddle the poor woman with questions rights off the bat, but he had so many things to ask. "And, forgive my forwardness, you are a feline Wildling, yes? Your transformation was a thing of wonder!"

@Eleyvan
@RainDash
 
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"Glad you saw it that way." Xanthus said as the mage walked away, he himself sitting back down in his chair. The tension in the room seeming to fade away as the two went in different directions. He picked up his wine glass once more, taking a long sip as he watched Rilll practically fall head over heels right into the lap of another mage, one of his eyebrows was raised in accompaniment of another smirk as he set the wine glass down.

The man didn't remind Xanthus of himself at all, slimmer and more flamboyant looking, not a built, strongman like Xanthus was. He looked at the scene for a moment, then almost laughed. Rill angrily told him not to try to flirt with her, yet she was already in that mage's hands like dough in a baker's. He wasn't drunk, but three glasses of fine wine would make anyone feel a little odd. Still, he was fully himself when he decided to speak. His natural charm didn't need to be aided by alcohol.

"Rill, darling, would you like me to fetch a lute? There's always one in a castle, maybe right in this room. I could play a romantic ballad for you two, then recite a soppy poem to truly seal it. They said back home that my dastardly good looks were only beaten by my angelic baritone vocals in song." Xanthus said, smirking the whole time.

@RainDash
@PetticoatLane
 
Many things had happened since the last time King Akard spoke. More chattering and death threats, along with more feasting and conversing. The king could not say he was happy with such a display, but what could he do? The Exalted Wardens might have some people of noble blood, but they certainly didn't show that they came from anything more than huts and farms. The young man sighed, rubbing the ridge of his nose as he glanced at Aslaug. She was telling him that he should be the one to choose who was the lieutenant and captain and tactician of the Wardens. Her words were true; just as he was about to open his mouth to reply, an elven woman asked for permission to get rid of Loque. What kind of people are these? he thought, somewhat exasperated. They are worse than the nobles I have to barter with... but thankfully, they are thousands of times more useful.

"Attention!" King Akard shouted, standing up from his seat. When he thought that everyone was listening after forcing his voice, he remained standing and cast a long, thoughtful gaze over the crowd of men and women. "I was told that I should pick the ranks of the Exalted Wardens, and that is exactly what I am going to do. Respect my choices, for I know who is best to fill such important roles."

His blue eyes shifted over to Aslaug, who remained standing by his side. "The Captain of the Exalted Wardens shall be this woman, here," he motioned to the blonde woman, his expression serious. "She obviously understands what it means to be a leader. I can tell that she is mature and responsible, and I trust that she will lead you all to victory."

Zuria expected that Aslaug was going to be chosen as the Captain. She was older and more reliable than most of the Wardens. A grin was plastered over her lips, and her blue-green eyes flashed with joy. "Huzzah! Aslaug!" she slurred behind a full mouth, raising a bare turkey bone in glee.

Stroud blinked, somewhat disappointed with the king's choice. Wouldn't it be better if the captain were a male? He wasn't sure if any of the men of the Wardens were going to take her seriously. Hopefully, they did...

Aria watched with a curious expression. The king was picking who the captain was going to be, then? She didn't trust his decision-- he was probably going to pick someone who would only benefit the humans. In the end, a blond and older woman was chosen as captain. Her eyes watched her closely, taking her in. Their new captain looked pretty scary...

"As for the lieutenants," he continued. "I believe that there should be two. One lieutenant and one captain are not enough to lead such a hefty squadron. The First Lieutenant shall be the Captain's right hand man, the one who has almost as much power as Aslaug does. They will be on the front lines, leading the Wardens into battles. They will lay down the Captain's laws with an iron fist," as he paused, Akard scanned the crowd for any reliable faces. One stood out in particular; even though it was a Wildling, the lowest of the dirt out there, he can tell that she was a reliable choice from her intense appearance. "The russet-haired Wildling shall be the First Lieutenant of the Wardens. I am certain that she will live up to Aslaug's, along with everyone else's, expectations."

"Huzzah! Rill!" Zuria shouted with more vigor, throwing her bone up into the air, which landed somewhere in the crowd. Perhaps she was having a bit too much to drink-- many people could believe that she was getting a bit too loud and rowdy for her own good.

Interesting... Stroud thought, tipping his head to the side. His dark gaze flicked over to Rill. A Wildling First Lieutenant was unheard of... especially when they were the First Lieutenant of humans and elves alike. King Akard is probably putting a variety of races in power in order for everyone to be represented properly.

Aria trilled in happiness-- finally, the Wildlings were to be represented by an actual Feralperson! She turned toward Rill, bouncing up and down childishly. I trust her to guide us all to victory! she thought, wrapping her arms around the feline Wildling and bringing her in for a hug.

"The Second Lieutenant will be like the first," Akard told the Wardens after a moment of thought. "Their role will be just as important. They will carry out commands, lead patrols, and lay down the law that Aslaug puts in place. Just because they are in second place does not mean that they should be treated differently from the First Lieutenant," he turned toward Stroud, who flinched in surprise. "This man shall be the Second Lieutenant of the Wardens."

"Huzzah! Stro- wait, wha-?" Zuria faltered a moment, turning toward the blushing man next to her. She remained quiet for a moment before bursting out into laughter. "Stroud as Second Lieutenant? Y-you've got to be pulling my leg here!"

"I don't like this any more than you do," Stroud muttered under his breath, looking at his food. "Why the king would place me in such a powerful position-"

"Doesn't matter! Huzzah! Stroud!"

Another human filling an important position. Aria pulled away from Rill, finding the news less discomforting than she expected to. At least Stroud would be below Rill, and she could punish him if he performed poorly. At least he didn't seem as mean as Aslaug looked...

"The last position-- the position of Tactician --is possibly the most important rank of the Wardens," Akard went on, clasping his hands behind his back. "Even though they do not fight on the front lines, the Captain and Lieutenants go to the Tactician in search of strategic advice. It is expected that, if the Captain and Lieutenants listen to their Tactician, that their battles and travels shall go well. A Tactician's burden is a large one, but nothing is more satisfying than watching your plans fall into place," he paused, glancing around. His silence lasted a while as he studied the Wardens, noting their worthiness and potential. He had heard stories about most of the Wardens-- but he was looking for one in particular. His ice-blue eyes rested on a silver-haired elf, and he smiled slightly. "This elf," he motioned to Saervel. "Is your Tactician. One can see that he has the wisdom of battle in his eyes, and can surely be trusted to lay down the stepping stones to success. I believe that my choices are reasonable and should be heeded."

"Huzzah! Saervel!" Zuria shouted again, making Stroud flinch for the thousandth time that day. "May he guide us with his huge books on tactics and stuff!"

"Can you be quiet, please? You're giving me a headache."

"Don't be such a sourpuss, Second Lieutenant Stroud. This is a time for celebration and feasting!"

Stroud only sighed in exasperation, watching Zuria down another flagon of beer. His head was hurting more than it was before... and he felt somewhat nauseous. I don't know why I was picked... what could be going on in the king's mind?

Aria's lips blossomed into a full-blown smile. The choices that the king made fully represented each and every one of the members of the Wardens. Two humans, one Wildling, and one elf. What was there to complain about? She returned to chewing on her turkey, looking around for something to drink.

King Akard remained standing, watching for any unsettling expressions. "I hope that you have enjoyed your meals and trust in my decisions. The night has grown long for me, however," he covered a yawn with the back of his hand. "And I shall retire to my chambers. The Wardens are allowed to finish off the rest of the food, but remember that I expect you to depart before sunhigh tomorrow. I wish you all luck in your journey, and may all of you receive the Creator's blessing."

"Long live the king!" the walking armory of a bodyguard shouted, following King Akard out of the room like he had done so many times before, and leaving the Wardens alone once more.
 
Yrïé allowed her voice to carry around once more: "I congratulate to the ones picked. I hope they will lead us wisely and bravely. I look forward looking forward to working with you and remind you to always remember that we are all first most comrades in arms no matter our rank." Then she bowed politely, first to the King, then to each of the ones that were called out and finally once more to the King himself before returning her attention to her food and drink.
@Ketori, @RainDash, @Erranruin, @mahasagara


Sëríé just sent a quick: "Congratulations!" into the chorus of cheers for the three and returned to herself. She was new to the Wardens and she knew only a few names and second-hand stories about them, like Aslaug or Rill.
@Ketori, @RainDash, @Erranruin, @mahasagara


Aliese just silently leaned on the wall and though about the choices that the King made. She realized he compromised in some parts to have a sense of equality with the distribution of both races and genders in the leadership of the Wardens, thous killing any talk about racial or gender discrimination even before it could start. She grinned and though: "He might be a much more shrewd and wise King then his age and looks make him appear."
@Ketori



Weyy was honestly disappointment. He spend his life polishing the acts of military strategy and tactics and the position of the tactician of the Wardens was his best hope for becoming the marshal of Morcrest in the future. Still the King spoke and all that he cloud do was to accept his decision. He stood up from his seat while saying: "Until later Erza," to the female warden and started to make his way towards the elf that was named tactician. He wanted to talk with him and offer his knowledge, not because Weyy was humble but for the good of the Wardens.
@senpai. @mahasagara


Eýar also added a cheer to the cheers of the other Wardens, more out of obligation then anything else: "Congratulations." He was pleased a bit to see an elf get a position in leadership of the Wardens. Without a particular care for what happens next he returned to his meal. "Well now I wonder what will be our fist destination. Hopefully not the Barrens. I would be happier if we went there as late as possible," he though while eating a piece of roasted pheasant.
@Ketori, @RainDash, @Erranruin, @mahasagara



Razya and Meddo landed right in front of the large doors that lead to the hall in which the Wardens were gathered. Noticing the cheers of congratulations to Aslaug and the rest, she thought: "I feel a bit remorseful for breaking their atmosphere but this is not something that can wait." By now Razya decided, she is going to reveal everything to both the King and the Wardens. She knew if she can't trust them with this then she was not fit to fight together with them and under King Akard. She opened the door and stepped three steps in the room, letting the door close behind before shouting: "Your Majesty, fellow Exiled Wardens may I beg your attention? I have an important and sensitive matter to discuss!"
@Ketori, @Erranruin, everyone
 
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Sil remained silent for the next little while, listening to the other wardens as they talked among themselves. They were discussing who would be a good leader and all. Pretty sure she heard a death threat too. She looked in the direction of the threat with a frown. If this is how the people of the Wardens were behaving, then they weren't going to be getting much done. They couldn't be fighting the other kingdoms if they were fighting among themselves. She yawned. Not her problem, though really. If someone was causing a problem then they'd be dealt with soon enough, she hoped anyway. Either by her, or someone else.

And that's when the king decided to finally announce who was going to be doing what. She listened, and when Aslaug was named leader, she joined Zuria in the cheering. "Aha! Good'n Aslaug!" She shouted, giving the woman a grin and a thumbs up. If there was anyone who could lead people, and make these idiots quit bickering among themselves, it'd be the older woman. Next, the Lieutenant was called. A wildling? Well, Sil had no problems with the other races. She'd be glad to follow her into battle, even if she was a wildling. "Alright, nice one Rill! Show them idiots who's boss!" She chuckled as she clapped in amusement.

And next game the second Lieutenant. Which was promptly given to Stroud. Sil couldn't exactly say she had any problems with the man as Zuria seemed to have. Or at least, she seemed to think he'd be pretty I'll suited to the position. Either way, she gave Stroud a grin. "Good one Lieutenant Stroud!" She shouted. "Don't do anythin' stupid, ye hear?"

Lastly, the tactician. An Elf, by the name of Saervel. She didn't know him too well, but she could at least appreciate the fact he did look like someone who was good at the whole strategy thing. "Alright, Saervel!" She shouted too him. "You an' get us killed, I'ma have ta beat some sense into ya!" She jokingly shouted, just before grabbing another mug of ale.

Now that the announcements were over with, she was going to go jokingly tease Aslaug about what their oh so fabulously glorious leader was going to be telling them to do. She started walking over to where Aslaug was standing, however, before she could get out a word another shout interrupted her. She brought her attention to another person who had something to tell to them all. Apparently, it was important enough to even request the Kings attention, even though he had started to leave already. Ignoring, her, however, she turned to Aslaug.

"Oi, hello, so fabulously glorious leader!" Sil started with a grin, and a mock bow."Wonder what news is so important ta ask the King 'bout."

@Erranruin
 
It wasn't exactly unexpected, being chosen for Captain. Even Aslaug agreed, without pride, that she was the obvious choice. But that didn't mean she welcomed it. She took a glance about the room as the King announced her new title, heard the shouts of glee and approval at her promotion. She looked at each trusting face that now turned to her for guidance, for direction. Each was now her responsibility. She'd send so many of them to their deaths, eventually. They were alive and young and full of potential and some of them were going to die bloody.

She took a breath. Mustered a small grin. Resigned herself to her fate.

And then she listened to the rest of the appointments.

Rill was a good choice as First just due to her experience. She was instinctual and reactive, but that was not necessarily a bad thing. One rarely had time to think when commanding a ground assault. Aslaug caught the woman's eye and gave her a brief nod across the room. She would have to speak to all the lieutenants later, discuss how they would work together, how happy they were to follow her orders. She needed to fully gain their trust and support, there was no room for shakey loyalties here.

Her Second, however, Aslaug was not entirely happy about. The man was... timid. He cowed from arguments, never admonished others and generally kept his thoughts to himself. How was he to successfully lead anyone if he wasn't willing to lay down Command and punish those who did not follow? How was he going to command respect when he spoke so little? And then there was his attitude towards Aslaug herself! The first time they'd met, he'd seemed so tentative, gentle and disgustingly noble. Aslaug had never been used to the Southerners treatments and views upon women and it made her annoyed to say the least. Stroud better drop the white knight act and listen to her, or she'd just kick him off his post. She was willing to push her power to those limits for the sake of the mission.

At least Saervel was a good choice for Tactician. Another Northerner like her, he would know the demands of hardship and cold and war. He also had a thoroughly cunning mind and she could imagine him giving her sound advice and working beyond the call of duty to solve every detail. Yes, she trusted that appointment.

With that done, the King rather hurriedly left. Aslaug only just had time to bow before he departed. Honestly, she had her doubts about him. What kind of High King would he turn out to be?

Aslaug probably looked quite an intimidating sight when Sildana sidled up to her with her trademark good humour. Aslaug's arms were crossed, she was frowning across the room at the newest entry to their proceedings. Rayza was the woman's name if she recalled, just shy of two years being a Warden. What could she have to say that the whole lot of them needed to hear? If it was sensitive then this should be treated more delicately.

Aslaug turned briefly to Sildana when she addressed her, smiling in spite of the situation. "Did you have a name? Suddenly all I see are minions." She muttered playfully, keeping most of her attention on Rayza. "Joking aside, I am wondering the same, though I am a little concerned-" She raised her voice suddenly to address the woman whom had called the attention of all.

"If what you have to say is sensitive, then don't blurt it out to the room. Tell the King or an Officer in private, Soldier." She had little enough stability as it was without random soldiers blurting out delicate information to all their Order in the middle of a large Banquetting hall. It wasn't as though the meeting had been kept particularly secret, any spy would know something was happening in the Castle. Aslaug did not have time for information suppression and she did not appreciate secrets being announced to the world without someone telling a superior first.

@gamer5
@RainDash
@The Alchemist
@Ketori
@mahasagara
 
Falon |


Falon had intended on leaving the courtyard; probably head to the stables where Valdin resided. Or, well, where he had last left the gryphon, anyway. Valdin was known for having a mind of his own. Being young compared to the other gryphons in the Exalted Wardens and possessing an ironically pompous attitude and flashy style, he tended to not be the most amiable. Not to mention how difficult he was; the stubborn beast wouldn't let anyone but Falon ride him, which didn't make him very "useful" to the Wardens. Despite this, he had strong wings and a brave heart- invaluable to Falon in battle and outside of it.
However, all thoughts of his winged companion faded from his mind as he passed the fair-haired elf that emerged from the shadows of the hall and approached the banquet table. It was a heart-caught-in-your-throat sort of feeling, in a way, like when your soul insists you've met them before. Falon swallowed it down, taking a sharp U turn and following behind the stranger; a good three paces behind to not seem suspicious.
"If I may be so bold," he listened as the man talked, ears perked in interest. What are you even doing. Ezra's going to say something snarky, give it a minute and then you'll be humiliated, or if you're smart enough, retaliate with one of your oh-so-clever come-backs and start a nonsensical spit-fight.
Falon's head clouded itself with more and more blown-out-of-porportion thoughts, speeding ahead of itself. It was one of his flaws; he didn't doubt himself, but he also didn't think too much ahead unless he had to. And when he did, he saw too many possibilities; even the unlikely ones, and quickly descended into a mini-fit of internal anxiety and paranoia which would promptly fizzle away once he shoved it into the darker corners of his mind to work more efficiently in the now. Finally working through this last stage, his mind caught up with reality enough to pick up the end of whatever speech the elf had conjured.

"Call me Saervel. I've been working alongside your cause for some time, but perhaps we haven't met formally."
Saervel. I haven't heard that name before... Not a warrior, perhaps? A newbie? We would've seen him at trading if he was either. A scholar then?
In any case, the name rang bright in his mind, and would probably roll even better off his tongue.

"Welcome."

Breath still caught in his chest, he decided to hold himself back on the urge to introduce himself. It was better, right? To observe and judge; jumping into something head first was not... something he was comfortable with, ironically. Seeing as how he didn't actually take the time to plan ahead exactly, like mentioned it gave him a mess of a headache among other things, so he just watched. And thought. And waited till there was a moment to slide into that was ideal.

He slid closer to the table as the King started talking, trying to at least seem like he cared. The thing was that Falon didn't. Besides his loose ties to him through being an Exalted Warden, King Akward here was not his King. The man didn't want peace and justice, he wanted a unified land under him. The military force the Exalted Wardens promised to become would get him what he wanted. The man probably didn't even care about the struggle of anyone who wasn't a mage and wasn't human besides in face-to-face matters. The Nobility were all the same. The privileged will always put on the front of caring without having any actual stakes in the matter, then passively-aggressively demand to be thanked and respected and worshiped for having the opinions of a descent human being. Especially those who benefited from an abusive system.
Unsurprisingly, Aslaug was named Commander. She will be good for us. Falon glanced briefly at Ezra from where she stood by the table to see her reaction, winked, then went back to occasionally looking at the King and picking at the food on the table. The lieutenants were also chosen, not that he paid much attention to that. He recognized most of the names, but had little-to-no interaction with the people whom they belonged to. He only hoped they wouldn't be oppositionists out to cause problems for Aslaug and the rest of the Wardens. More huzzah's were shouted, more things to give the already worn out elf mage a headache.

"The last position-- the position of Tactician --is possibly the most important rank of the Wardens,"
If he gives it to that fight-starting mage Loque, simply because he's an old friend of him I swear on my ancestors rigid bones I'll-
"This elf," Wait. His thoughts flew again, noticing that the King's arm was not extended towards the aforementioned mage, but Saervel.

"Is your Tactician. One can see that he has the wisdom of battle in his eyes, and can surely be trusted to lay down the stepping stones to success. I believe that my choices are reasonable and should be heeded."
More "Huzzahs!!!" followed from the collective group, but Falon only smiled. Feeling proud for some reason. He didn't know Saer, but the drowned out huzzah's at him being appointed made Falon feel like he was part of something for the first time this evening. He raised the jug of ale closest to him on the table, then offered it in the elf's direction as was the traditional manner, and smiled.
"Huzzah!"
 
Sadria was amused by Rill's transformation almost as much as Rill's fascination with his griffin. She also secretly slid a few more pieces of meat to Lotus. It kept her mind off the fact that a mage was sitting next to her and talking to her. Unpleasant memories reminded her of why mages were not to be trusted or relied upon for anything. They would probably dissect her to make her powers theirs. She didn't know how to cope with it, so she scooted her hand slightly closer to his tome to feel a bit better about his proximity to her.

That was when Sadria offered his hand for him to kiss. She accepted the action, trying not to cringe when he kissed it lightly on the wrist. Her hand went back to where it had been before, maybe even a little closer. "I am, though many people don't really seem this... excited about meeting a Wilding. Usually there's more... 'ahhh don't eat me!'" Rill even let out a little laugh, letting her relax a bit around Sadria. He seemed to be kind, and she could pretend he wasn't a mage for the time being at least.

Then Xanthus showed up, swaggering in behind her and making some stupid comment about his voice matching his face. "Ah, Xanthus. Thank you for allowing me to realize that angels too, can be hideous and grotesque. And if you order me around or call me 'darling' one more time, I'll slit your throat." Rill smiled passively but she knew full well that the words cut deep.

Then the king announced who the leaders of the group will be and... she was the first lieutenant. Rill allowed her jaw to drop a little. It was the wine, she'd drank too much and now she was dreaming of impossible things. But people were congratulating her, and dream or not, she needed to acknowledge it. She stood and moved away from the squabbling child and the gentlemage. She cleared her throat and began to speak, "thank you all for the cheers of congratulations! But we have yet to march as a team! Under Aslaug I believe that we can be a team, but now we are a mere collection of people, thank you!"

Rill wanted to go back and talk with Sadria, but she felt that drinking any more to conceal her blushing would cause her to wake in a strange place in the morning. As a lieutenant she needed to be have like one at all times. So instead she moved outside to clear her head a bit and think on what next. She didn't hear Razya's announcement to the hall.

@PetticoatLane
@FrenziedAce
@Erranruin

Roshi rose when the king left, seemingly brushing her off. She'd appeal to him more later, Loque was a risk to the mission. He'd proved as much when he almost caused an incident in the middle of the banquet. Xanthus wasn't one to stand down, they were lucky that Loque did in his place. She felt that he had nothing to say here, and moved behind Aslaug, to talk to her later. Never a dull moment around here is there? Roshi thought, smiling as Xanthus went to try and woo Rill yet again. He'd be shot down for sure.

Then a recruit burst into the room, explosively announcing that she had something to confess. To a whole room of people and an assassin. Roshi moved to see the girl better and recognized her as Razya. "And here I thought you were better at not blurting out secrets to people who could kill you," Roshi admonished lightly, "but either have at it or wait until the officers can gather together and listen to your story without ears in walls!"

@gamer5
 
As the names were announced one by one, his curious gaze caught upon the eyes of the names called, cogs turning in his head as he tried to fit the pieces of the current situation together. It was easier to predict the future that way, he thought, if he had a sense of how these people acted and interacted now. Though there were times in the past where his presumptions had been anything but accurate (in fact, he inaccurate quiet often), he continued on anyway.

He had read the briefs containing information on all the Wardens the night before, and believed his information he recalled was correct, but his fatigue in the late hours of night often causes severe gaps in memory. All the information blurred and mixed themselves together. A dragon could have crashed into the castle and, after he blacked out at 4 am and woke up later, he wouldn't have remembered a thing. It was as good a way to get work done, and incentive to not procrastinate on reading important documents, for chance he would have to read them all over again. Last night was an exception, though.

The Captain was a wise choice. Aslaug had a strong posture, a commanding presence, a battle-worn face whose expression told that experience had done anything but drain her of her courage. And though she looked to be a brute, vengeful and brash, she was also a Northerner. It was difficult for him to explain, but there is a certain... thing about facing the freezing tundra of the Barren that connects those who were unfortunate enough to live there. The dry air and stinging cold changes you, hardens the soul in a certain unique way that you can automatically recognize in someone else, two people of the same iron branding. It was petty, but it was a comfort.

@Erranruin

The First Lieutenant, Rill, he believed he remembered the name being, was someone he couldn't quite put his finger on. She was quiet, sharp eyes that hinted at a sharper tongue, venom ready to sting those who gave her a poor impression or protect those she holds dear. He got a sense that she was a soul who valued courtesy, like himself, or perhaps had experience as a diplomat before. He had a feeling they would get along well.

@RainDash [Saervel can't read personalities for shit and is going to pay for it later 2k15]

The Second Lieutenant clearly wasn't enthused about his position, not a good sign. He was quiet, meek, and despite his height seemed to be a gentler man. Like the first Lieutenant, he sensed that he would not be too difficult to talk to on normal circumstance, but his problem lied when the time came to negociate the difficult decisions. He had worked before with people who thought they could save everyone, and more often that not they ended up saving no one. Saervel hoped his impressions were wrong.

And then, as Saervel was announced as the tactician a look of shameless pride spread across his face, all attention fixed towards him in that moment. Some expressed congratulations towards him, and he nodded with respect, a slight smile on his lips. It wasn't entirely unexpected, as the fact that his strengths lay further outside than battlefield than they did in the midst of them was that common knowledge, but still it was always satisfactory to have your expectations reached. The lives of these people were now in his hands, and he was confident that his strategic skill wouldn't fail them. If one of them had the misfortune to die, it would only be by their own mistakes.

"Huzzah! Saervel!" He heard someone call. "May he guide us with his huge books on tactics and stuff!"

At that he let out a chuckle, quiet and contained. He admitted to himself that the books he read on tactics were huge, and filled with lots of stuff, a near overwhelming amount of stuff. The days he spent studying them he did not remember kindly, but it was all for the better in the end.

@Ketori

His eyes lingered to one elf, Falon, who looked as though the air had just evacuated from his lungs. A rogue, he guessed, and an intriguing man. Perhaps he should introduce himself later. And, turning away, he also saw someone else making his way towards him, a serious looking man, intelligent, but with a baby face. Saervel was curious about both his purpose and his age. Perhaps he should get himself an older face, he thought, he looks like a baby.

@Sapphy
@gamer5
 
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