Verran

Illogical
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Islas de Abaroa, 26th day of Zoi in the Season of Growing 1012 ADW.
11 Days after the fall of Thalia.
Port City of
Levitum
Thundermage Thundermage Takumi Takumi

Rendan grinned back as he lead the way down the gang plank. “Yah, Arell, where do you want to go? A pub? An inn? Or are we headed for wherever we can find more books in this town?” The samurai personally hoped it was one of the former. Barring that he couldn’t go find some alchemy shop to hole up in until the captain wanted to leave. Rendan vaguely wondered if that made him a simple, dull man who simply wanted to spend his life upon the sea and making potions and telling stories. Then shrugged. Life had rarely ever been so simple for the man and it didn’t look like is was going to become any simpler. Ah well, he thought, suppose that makes it interesting. Guess the clouds on me long since forebared me from such a life. A soft, dry chuckle escaped his lips at the thought.
 

Falcon

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Mentions Jessica2477 Jessica2477 derek cazenari derek cazenari Strider Kai Strider Kai Brother Gabriel Brother Gabriel (Dragua and Atanalcar write out)

The Previous Evening

As Ludivine calmed and questioned the wolfskien man who had nearly just been eaten by Fosc, Dragua was studying their other companion. It only took a little bit of watching Atanalcar to see why the Wyvern rider had let him stay around. This split personality thing was worrying, and a bit pitiable.

His first instinct was to somehow take the man back to a posting of Stanislavian troops. The man had obviously been born in Thalia by the accent and should be debriefed. Besides the Lordess Commander had ordered the Thalian people cared for after she had executed the fool Miron. How the man had risen to Master of Wings, Dragua would never figure out. Although he found it fairly amusing that the Thalian people had been calling the man "Captain". Whether it was a miss-translation or intentional insult the term must had been like a burr under Miron's armor. But that was hardly a thought to be worried over now.

After a moment Dragua remembered a church he had passed about half a day's journey gone. They might have better resources for Atanalcar's ailment than any barracks. And if he played his cards right he could get the Thalian so turned around on the journey they he wouldn't know where he had come from, where Dragua was going afterwards, or even what country he was in.

Carefully he drew the other man aside and got him comfortable for the night before moving to arrange a night watch schedule with Ludivine. Between the two of them they managed to ensure that neither of their "guests" disappeared with the darkness. In the morning both took their leave, and the samurai led the former cavalier back toward his home.

When they got to the church a day and a half later Atanalcar still believed they were heading deeper into Eshil. He had been too busy arguing with the other voice in his head to pay too close attention to their path. The Clerics of the church promised not to disillusion him too soon believing that to be safer for the time being. Dragua continued on back to the capitol city of Thalia to report to the Lordess Commander all he had learned, what Ludivine had told him of their target, and to receive his next mission.



Present

In the market place of Abelsol figures filtered through alleyways keeping tabs on those shopping while appearing to be minding their own business. When a chance presented itself they whispered to each other. Reinforcements had arrived to back up those who had originally spotted Martha. They now had enough hands to pull it off with the assumption that she had hired several guards since arriving, and not just the one they knew about.

They also knew the town watch would be a problem and had planned accordingly. Steeling that boy's rings had served it's purpose. The watch was now preoccupied with that fiasco. if they were patient enough, it would all play into their favor.



mentions: ShiroKiyoshi ShiroKiyoshi


Voices whispered in the shadows as they watched the town from outside, well hidden in a stand of tall grass and bush. Several figures shrouded in cloaks kept eye on the market gates as people drifted in and out in the daylight. Some with carts full of goods to sell, others talking about the items they wished to find.

"I think only two of us should go." One, a dark skinned male spoke, the bright green scarf draped around his neck under the cloak serving well to hide the length of his ears. His hazel eyes were cautious as he tried to pull the cowl lower over his his unruly black hair.

"Tijmen's right," a soft voice spoke. This one a pale female dressed in light blue, her ears equally long. "Two of us should go in. And being briefly acquainted with the man we wish to find I shall be one of them."

"Briony, don't be a fool," a third voice spoke. This man was almost the twin of the first except his hair was long and pulled back, and the dominating color of his wardrobe was red. "You're injured." and indeed, the white haired female's right paw was heavily bound in bandages. "And don't say acquainted. You had a few drinks with that man when he passed through the Warren. that's it."

"Nahuel, you know I love you my darling, But I truly believe I have the best shot at making the bargain. Especially since the need to make it is on me. I'm the one who screwed up."

"She's right, brother," the first voice spoke. "And I will make the second. This mission requires stealth of which you have none."

"Tijmen also knows the most of humans." This time the fourth figure spoke. A bluish grey braid was just visible under his cloak and a bow strapped across the back. "I will stand watch with you as they go in."

"We will be back before the sun's set." Briony promised.

It took some doing, binding up their ears and making sure any fur patches were covered so they could pass as human without hiding their faces. Both had learned long ago that hidden faces drew notice. But soon, with warnings and well wishes from their companions, the two Taguel, one an otter black and the other white, slipped into Abelsol.

It took them maybe twenty minutes to find their quarry, munching on food recently bought from one of the street stalls.
"Elijah!" Briony called merrily as soon as she was certain. and they made their approach. "You may remember me not, but we shared drinks five nights passed as you traveled through the Warren. I believe you also won some coin off my husband Nahuel. I've come with an opportunity for more coin. The Warren would like to offer you employment if you have interest?"
 
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Takumi

Hoshidan Princess
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Arell McCain
Levitum

"Morning." While Valen wasn't pleased to be the mate's bodyguard, Arell would look in whatever bright side there was to it. Like, the older redhead was added protection if he ended up not being able to draw his sword fast enough. Arell could also prove that despite being sickly he was at least competent enough to fight if need be. That's if they got into any fights while in Levitum.

"Well, I was planning to see if they had any further information on Jack Rogers, the Pirate King of old." He answered, holding up the book he had been reading. "He was mentioned, being given something from the goddess Miha. What it was isn't specified, and some of the information is smudged unfortunately. Further more it isn't mentioned anywhere else in the book than a few passages along with other legends of old." He sighed.

"Though, if you're eager for a drink I can treat you later." Arell added, not at all bothered of taking something out of his pay.

Verran Verran Thundermage Thundermage

Martha Fabre & Gertrude
Abelsol

As he responded and moved away from her touch, she retracted her hand.

"My name is Gertrude, and after you just got pummeled into the dirt I figured it'd be best to check on you. If you can stand, do so before someone steps on you. I can find you a place to sit until a proper medic can be found." She resonded.

While Gertrude spoke with the young man, Martha moved onto another nearby stall, this time somewhat interested in the trinkets that were being sold as she strained her ears to pick up the conversation.

ElDorado ElDorado Conway Conway
 

Conway

King of Redheads
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Veran noted the movement of Gertrude, and closed the distance between himself and Martha slightly, so that he could be on top of her faster, if something happened. He hoped it would not come to that, but what he noticed told him otherwise. There were clearly several people shifting around, acting similar to himself, scouting, watching, and trying to remain inconspicuous. Veran was lucky to have spotted one of them whispering earlier, which lead him to two others, who lead him to two more. Five in total, all with one common tie, they were watching Martha, and communicating. He noticed one of them say something to a kid, who ran off into an alleyway. Another, nodded to a man leaning against a wall and gesturing with his hand, then that man turned down another alley. This did not bode well. Even if, by some weird luck, this had nothing to do with Martha, it was clear trouble was brewing. Veran was not so much worried about the five men, as he was about them communicating with someone else. This meant that they were well organized, and had a plan. Veran could only imagine what their numbers might be if they had the manpower to send five scouts, or possibly more. The situation seemed to grow more dire by the moment, despite the jovial happy energy of the marketplace.

He glanced about again, noting that there were no guards. So the incident with the blue haired kid was planned. He glanced back to one of the men who were watching Martha from a distance, only to find him acting as if he was trying to haggle with a merchant. Strange. He glanced to another one of them just in time to catch him turning to look at the sky as if fascinated by a bird. A third had positioned himself in such a way that his back was to Veran. Suspicious. Veran walked over to a stand inspecting a fine metallic plate, with his back turned to a few of the scouts. It was shiny, and reflective. He held it up to inspect it further, catching a reflection of the men on the plate. They were talking again, whispering to one another, glancing to Martha, Gertrude, and the kid. He shifted it over to view another scout to his back. The man's eyes were fixed to Veran, another man pointed and said something, the scout nodded. He was had, there was no longer any reason to delay. This clearly involved Martha, and if they had found Veran too, who had only just joined her last night, then they must have had a strong information network, with a plan to follow it.

Veran put the plate down and marched over to Martha. Subtlety was out the window at this point. They knew he was with Martha, and they knew he was probably looking out for them. He stopped right in between Martha and Gertrude, and placed his hand on his sheath. He looked in the general direction of where he thought they would strike from, based on where he saw the messengers go. "Eyes up, we are being watched. We need to leave now. Leave the kid, he will be fine." The stern look on Veran's face was clearly serious and his posture implied he was ready to draw his sword at a moments notice. He saw one scout lock eyes with him and run off. He looked at Martha, "Now!"

((( Takumi Takumi ElDorado ElDorado )))
 
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ElDorado

Edgebabby
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Apollo Galata
Abelsol Marketplace

With the turning of his head, the view of her was the clearer. The form of her face set a serious tone, the grey hair that framed it making her seem older than her years. As she spoke, Apollo felt that there was something familiar about her. The ends of his lips turned down as he tilted his head, thinking.

"Very well. You may help me," he assented, offering her his arm so that she could pull him to his feet. "Although you may be of more use to me if you send word to my servant Doul in the thieves' guild. Surely he will catch the thief in no time at all, unlike these incompetent guards."

No sooner had he given the order that a man rudely intervened. With urgency and sternness, the stranger tried to call the women away.

Apollo hadn't yet gotten his bearings, and so he stood, stumbling, putting his body between himself and the woman called Gertrude. "Excuse me, sir! But who do you think you are, ordering these women around like that?! And for that matter, I am no kid, but a man, and as a man, I must ask--nay, require!--that you speak with the decency befitting the nature of our common gender!"
Takumi Takumi Conway Conway
 

Verran

Illogical
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Islas de Abaroa, 26th day of Zoi in the Season of Growing 1012 ADW.
11Days after the fall of
Thalia.
Port City of Levitum.

“Dang. Shame it’s so little. Nothing on what he did with the precious gift neither?” Rendan hummed a disdain at the lack of information. “Why is that it’s always the legends that seem to have no real information? What’s so legendary about them then if nothing accurate remains? I mean, sure, he lived ages ago, but dragons live ages beyond ages. Heck, there are probably a good number who actually knew him and could tell us all about him. Someone should make a dragon based library. But I’ll take you up on that drink later.”

Still, Rendan wondered at the wisdom of chasing after Rogers. The man’s legend was as tall as the lack of facts. Tales that ranged from how he wooed women across the Isles to that he once befriended a tribe of turtle people who swam with his ship and gnawed holes in the sides of enemy ships. Yet, the fact that any gift from the equally notorious and legendary as a literal goddess was only mentioned was, to Rendan at least, perturbing. Yet it drove a great incentive to find out what the gift was because it was obvious that someone was trying to cover up what that was. Or Arell was completely bonkers. One of the two.

Thundermage Thundermage Takumi Takumi
 
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Angel looks around the market as she notices something wrong. "Rose, where are you?" she looks around for the pegasus but can't see her. "Rose, this isn't funny." Angel gets upset looking at the place where Rose would harass the market guys, but she isn't there. "Oh god! Somebody help!"
 

Takumi

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Martha Fabre & Gertrude
Abelsol

"I only checked on you on behalf of My Lady, who was concerned." Gertrude admitted upon being told she'd be more help finding the young man's own retainer. Hearing Veran's words, she glanced to him and nodded, moving to stand just as the young man on the ground pulled himself to his feet, stumbling in the process of doing so.

While one could admire his need to correct Veran's behavior, now wasn't the time nor place to do so. Placing a hand on the young man's shoulder to steady him, she would of been more amused if Martha's safety wasn't her top priority.

"While your sentiment is appreciated, now is not the time. Go find your retainer and stay with him." She suggested, doubting that he would do well to fight of the need arose what with a possible head injury.

"Gertrude, Toma." Martha called, causing the woman to nod in understanding and release the young man she was speaking to. Martha herself had her hand on the hilt of her sword, but was ready to move at a moments notice. One good look at Apollo though, and her eyes went to Veran.

"I know him, we could bring him with us out of Abelsol, at the very least." While her tone was low enough for the Stanislavian to hear, she spoke with a bit of urgency. She wouldn't take no for an answer, not now that Apollo had unintentionally gotten involved in some way. And while she couldn't remember his name right off the top of her head, she knew that if he got hurt at all because of her (more hurt than he'd been so far anyway) she wouldnt forgive herself whatsoever, may Anhi strike her down.

While Martha spoke with Veran, she heard Gertrude whistle, the woman having moved slightly closer towards the direction leading to the inn they stayed in, yet not too far from the Thalian lord or the Stanislavian man accompanying them and after a moment without an immediate response; a horse's neigh could be heard followed by hooves.

Once Toma arrived, the few shoppers left in that area of the marketplace stayed clear of his path. Letting his rider get on, the Cavalier's eyes took a quick sweep of their surroundings. She did not know how many there were, but if a fight were to break out here of all places it would have to be over quick.

Conway Conway ElDorado ElDorado
 
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TheSly

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Also Romance and the like. The more cheesy the better!
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Levi Callaghan
Outside Tahir, Ufral

It was at times like these that Levi could notice how much he was not used to these regions and how perilous the sun could really be. The archer had been to warm places before, however he had never visited a place where the heat of the sun was as noticable as now. His rather dark purple clothing and the few bits of metal that reinforced the strap of his quiver, as some sort of makeshift armor, did not help that matter at all.
Levi assumed that someone who had spent years living in the heat of the deserts of Ufral would call this weather normal. He, however, was not used to this amount of heat at all. He was not even close to the center of Ufral either, he was still on his way to Tahir, a town that served more as an outpost that Eshil and Ufral shared, it was only two to three days on foot from the border, and he was already drained from the heat.

Levi was now contemplating to turn back for maybe the 60th time. His trip to Tahir had not been fun, not at all. There was barely any work for him to do, so coins became fewer and fewer. To the point where he only bought the bare essentials when opportunity arose and then hunting his own food before going to sleep. However, that tactic did not work out as well as he thought it would. As he got closer and closer to the Ufral border the number of animals to hunt shrunk and shrunk. Of course there were animals, but he was not familiar with a single one of them, deciding to rather not hunt them at all than poison himself. This meant he had to sacrifice a bed and proper night's stay for buying food. Every time he encountered a settlement or small town he told himself to ask which animals where edible, just to promptly forget about it again over his daydreams. And since he had to spend the money he would usually have spent on a bed and proper stay had to go into food Levi resorted to sleeping under the stars, where ever there was some shelter.

Turning back now was not an option anymore. He had travelled all the way through Eshil just to get here in the first place. Being well aware of the not so friendly relationship of Ufral and Atrea, the young archer figured that it would be best not to enter Ufral through the Atrean border. Levi would have rather taken a longer trip than get turned away at the border because of where he was from. Although now that he was thinking about it, he never actually tried getting into Ufral through Atrea, Maybe that would have been the easier way and he was just adding more travel to this rather aimless search for what seemed to be nothing, then truly necessary.

Levi shook his head and got himself out of his own mind. If he had time to cry about how harsh the trip was, then he also had time to focus on walking. Besides, he knew that this would not be an easy trip, if he wouldn't have known that, then he likely would also not have started this trip to begin with. It also seemed that he had pretty much reached his goal. In the distance, with a bit of squinting, he could make out the town that had been described to him as Tahir. However, the town was not the only thing that he noticed. There was something coming towards him. With a bit more squinting Levi could make out what it was, four horses, one with two people on the back and a good bit behind three horses, each having a single person on their back two of which where visibly armed, one had a shield and what Levi assumed to be a sword and the other had an axe, due to the distance he couldn't quite make out if the third was armed, however assumed that the person was. The two in front however did not seemed armed at all. Either those four were late to an important date with someone, a date for which they needed their weapons drawn, or the two in front were being chased down.

Acting out of what felt like second nature, Levi took his bow and pulled an arrow from his quiver, the five persons seemed to preoccupied to notice the purple clad archer having his bow drawn. Now that they had come a little closer, Levi could see and hear, from the calls of the axeman, that this was definitely a chase. He could also make out that the third of the followers had a bow as well. Levi's hand shook as he held the string in place, close to his ear. He could just let them go on, it was none of his business and this really did not seem to be something he wanted to get involved with. Then again, he hated it when people forced their will on others.

Levi let out a sigh that could only be compared to the sigh of a tired and disappointed parent. With a still somewhat shaky hand the young archer took aim at the following bowman's horse. Praying that he can take it out and the pursuers would just abort the mission if one of them was unable to keep up the chase. He took a deep breath and held it, waiting only a few more seconds to try his best and predict the horses movement. Then he released the arrow, immediately drawing another and this time directing it right at the bowman. The first arrow struck the horse across the front, not in a way that would immobilize it, but it did rear up as it noticed the tip of the arrow cut through its skin and flesh. The second arrow was not as much of a lucky shot, originally aimed roughly where Levi assumed the head of the bowman to be, the arrow now only struck the other archer across the forearm, not in a major way either, the tip probably only embedded itself about half or three quarters of an inch into the skin. Once the archer had steadied himself and fully realized what was going on, he could easily pull the arrow out of his arm.

Levi meanwhile, knowing he had definitely been noticed looked over to the two young women and tilted his head in a way that almost spelt "Sorry", he was not even sure if the two had noticed him at all. Levi turned to dart away, however hesitated, trying to see what the two women would do.
 
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Falcon

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Present - Morning, 8 Days After the Fall of Thalia - Abelsol Marketplace (Angel's removal)

With the asault of a market patron and the escape of a thief earlier that day, the market guards were in no mood to deal with the Pegasus rider's antics. They already had captured the rouge Pegasus and taken it to a nearby stable when she allowed it to wander the market to harass other patrons, but when she began wandering around looking for it, the matter became quite clear as to who was responsible for a number of incidents that morning.

Not to mention the report filed by the mercenary who had himself been assaulted by the girl that morning. Of Course after hearing the story, the man was in fact looking for his daughter who had run away from home, the guards had been inclined to be a bit more lenient. The were wary of getting involved in foreign affairs and the man was clearly some sort of higher up from Atrea.

However, they had also had their fill of trouble for the morning. So when Angel began to wander around looking for her lost mount, lance in hand, they were quick to apprehend her. They didn't even waste time listening to explanations, rather disarmed the girl and escorted her directly to the watch house where she would face several fines for her trouble and possibly a night in a cell depending on whether her "father" chose to press charges to teach her a lesson. They might not make her leave town with the man, but he did have right to some retribution for the assault.

The whole incident was yet one more reason the guards in the marketplace were almost nonexistent at such a busy time of day. Truly an oddity, but those lurking in the shadows couldn't ask for more favorable conditions.



Present - Morning, 8 Days After the Fall of Thalia - Ludivine's Camp (Sissel's removal)

After the two men left the camp, and after Sissel had snitched some more food from Ludivine, the young wolfskien sat back with a sigh.
"I need to go find the others now..." he muttered. "There's slavers in these parts... I should warn them not to get caught..." he seemed almost apathetic to the idea of being captured and chained again. He knew it was a very real threat, but now that he was free... "There are others caught... should do something about that too..."

With a grunt the young man stood, patted his clothing to make sure he still had his precious letter, and then stretched "Well I suppose I'll leave too... thank you for the food."

And with that he too began to wander away, leaving Ludivine once again alone to continue her own adventure.



Present - Morning, 8 Days After the Fall of Thalia - The Abelsol Marketplace (write out for Elijah)

ShiroKiyoshi ShiroKiyoshi

"I can't believe he couldn't help us," Briony whispered sadly, her form almost wilting as Tijmen pulled her into the shadows of an alley and began looking for a way out of the city.

"We can't help that he had already found another job," Tijmen answered back just as quietly. "Besides, in his line of work it would be wrong to skip out on an employer you'd agreed to work for just because someone else arrived five minutes later, whatever the reason. It shows honor, and that's something not all humans have. We'll find someone else, or figure out another way... in the mean time eyes open. We need to get back and I don't like the look of the way things are here. Something's about to happen."

"You mean all the humans watching from the shadows? That's not normal?" Briony questioned softly.

"Not normal at all," her brother-in-law answered. "It means trouble, and I want to be gone before it starts."

"Maybe it means our bandits are still in this city?"

"Maybe. Lets get out of here and call the others. We can stay close and watch for a bit longer."

"I still wish Mr. Elijah could have helped us."

"Perhaps our paths will cross on future days. We parted in friendship and the proverbs say that 'friends paths will often cross many times' but for now we have more urgent matters"

It was not long before the two Taguel slipped out of the town, although their eyes continued to watch for the trouble Tijmen was sure was coming."



5 Days After the Fall of Thalia - in a military outpost near the Thalia / Ufral boarder

Conway Conway

As the sandstorm burned through it's cycle proper travel arrangements were made for Esmail and his new charge. Indeed Joris was considered Esmail's responsibility now, given the circumstances. Ufral was very restrictive of the travel of foreigners in it's lands. Especially those recently released from prison. The proper papers were drawn up and signed in triplicate. One for the garrison's records, one for Esmail just in case, and the third was handed to Joris.

"Do not lose this," the cavalier was instructed quite firmly by the commander. "These insure your safe travel through our lands so long as you travel with them. If you are picked up without these papers not even your new pale friend will be able help you."

"Our boarders are strictly controlled. Too much history of fighting over them, too much chance we'll lose our main sources of water otherwise" Esmail explained in brief hoping to stress the importance of the papers. "Along the boarder are our outpost towns," he continued. "The few places where the outside world gets in, and where those seeking to cross Ufral can gain passage. You go through one of those, get the proper paperwork, you can join a caravan. There are several towns along the boarders wherever we have a reasonable spot for building one, and some military posts like this one too. They all pretty much work the same. Sign in, state your purpose for travel, where you intend to go, get the permission papers, and the guard leaves you alone as you travel provided you don't cause trouble.... and provided you travel with one of the locals. If you get picked up wandering aimlessly, having crossed the boarder without going through an outpost town, or without your paperwork... well lets just say it's best not to get picked up in that case. Those that are often don't ever get to go home again if you catch my drift. Used to be worse, about 20 years ago and before, there was a whole period where they wouldn't let anybody in at all."

"Back then if you snuck in it was immediate execution, no trial" the commander put in with a wry grin. His men, however stayed a wary distance away from Joris though. Especially one with a black eye and his arm in a sling.

Soon after Joris's gear was brought for the man's inspection, and once the storm died down, with a bit of haggling, Esmail was able to purchase a horse for the man as well. Although personally Esmail was rankled at the expense and the amount of water the animal would consume on their journey. But then, he supposed a man raised to the cavalry of Thalia would need to be on a horse in order to be able to fight properly, and there was every chance he would need to be able to fight.

"I do hope you'll see this as further proof that I always keep my side of the bargain," the Shaman chided as after a meal and rest they set out. He had found a cloak of a light white material for Joris to tie over his armor to ward off the sun, and instructed him on how to tie a material of fine mesh around the animal's face to shield its eyes from any blowing sand.

"And now we can get to the real task at hand," he murmured pulling what seemed to be an old tarnished compass (an instrument of Midori design) out of his pocket along with a book. The book wasn't used for spell casting though. Instead the compass was held carefully on top of it as if Esmail was using the book to focus in on what he was searching for. Indeed that is exactly what he was doing. With a deep arcane muttering under his breath, the words themselves unintelligible, the compass needle began to glow with a purple light and spin, not north as one might expect, but south and east towards the Eshil boarder.

"It seems she is still heading toward Tahir," Esmail sighed with relief. "If we are very lucky we may catch up with her there, before she crosses the boarder. You may be free again sooner than you think."

Though it took a couple days travel it felt like a long couple days.
Esmail insisted on teaching Joris what he could about the desert as they went. He needed the other man to survive, otherwise getting him freed was a waste, and Esmail hated for his actions to result in waste.
The shaman cautioned against the sinking sands, taught the signs of storm, and warned about the native animal species. it would not do for him to let the cavalier be harmed by a poisonous lizard or hunted by a night-hound. True, Esmail knew how to deal with those threats, but doing so would take up valuable time.

Evening, 7 Days after the fall of Thalia - In the Border Town of Tahir

Jessica2477 Jessica2477 Fyrra Fyrra TheSly TheSly CaptainMarvel CaptainMarvel

They reached the outpost town as evening fell. But as they reached it they could see a commotion going down. What looked to be two separate bands of mercenaries seemed to be fighting in the streets outside a pub while a crowd watched and cheered for the side they liked most. At first Esmail thought it must be some sort of sparing match with the spectators betting on the victors. But then he realized that the fight itself was entirely serious no matter what the crowd seemed to think.

As he drew nearer he realized why. Though one of the bands consisted on mostly Ufralian men who looked to professionals, the other contained several women and one foreigner... no two foreigners. One of the women was on a Kinshi. It was the clothing that gave the male archer's origin away. But that wasn't what drew Esmail's attention. The second rider on the horse bore the same fuchsia hair as his target, and as Esmail pushed through the gathered throng for a better look he could see a clear similarity in the face as well. Once he got a clear look at it at least.

"Good news," he started with a heavy sigh, "I believe we've found my lady... Bad news... as expected it seems she's in trouble."

Almost idly he pulled a book from an inner cloak pocket and began flipping through it. This was not the same worn book he'd used for tracking earlier. Rather it's glossy black leather binding had been well tended with oil, the tome cared for as if a precious gem, and what one could make out of the inner pages were covered with Esmail's own spidery writing.

"Shall we lend a hand?" if possible the albino seemed almost board
 
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Fyrra

Edgepeasant
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I'm open to a lot of things, but my comfort zone usually involves medieval and modern settings, with varying degrees of realism and fantasy. I like to explore mature themes, not for the sake of sex, but just because I like it when a character has to actually stop and weigh their options.
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Naira-face.gif

"Ngh, they came prepared."

Naira closed her eyes for a moment, focusing on the sound of her steed's hooves to steel herself for the next leg of their escape: sharing a saddle was enough a distraction on its own to keep the girl on edge, but between it and the bounce with each gallop, pulling the arrow jutting from her shoulder tore open a little more flesh than Naira was prepared for. With a frustrated sob, she cast the bloodied shaft aside, and then clutched her staff back to her chest.

Reaching for her satchel, she pulled a poultice from within and set to treating her wound while the mare galloped across the plains,
both oblivious to the flight of two arrows disrupting that of one of their pursuers. Naira shook her head, the sting of her disinfectant bringing her back to reality. She glanced over her shoulder, unsure of the next move she should be making. The flying accomplice was gone, yet still they were hounded by these miscreants.

"Persistent, are they not?" Cue a quick tug to get her hair just slightly less in her face. "They care more for the coin promised upon your return than they do their very lives. Shall we proceed with the usual?"
 
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Azurian Dream

Moonlight's Match
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Normally aggressive though I don't mind being the passive if you got a strong story bases to work with. I more so like to work in equal footing.
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Introduction Post: Alrevis Azurian
Thalia-Eshil Border
Two Days After The Stanislav Aggression On Thalia

News always did travel fast. Not long after the dishonorable actions of "Captain" Miron's raid on Thalia spread, but so did a night later Lordess Commander Amelia Tersch's rescue and justice upon the traitorous band. To undo the taint their homelands name had now been plagued with the Lordess Tersch would be keeping her company busy with clean up of Thalia's lands. Stanislav's future actions would need to be careful, and just... the only problem was Mirons's actions paled into comparison to the countries unknown issues. Three months since he had learned of it, and a month alone since he had separated himself from home. The moonless night kept company to a dim lite candle motioning with the shadows very little sight to the room it called home tonight. The one swirling these thought, and many more kept his attention to his spell book.

His cloaked face went slightly left to right as his pen swiftly wrote down the spells he desired to have on hand at all times. The inn the Tactician had made refuge in tonight was ideal as it was neither well known, and appeared on very few maps. His gloved hand halted for a moment as he stared at it. He relinquished the pen in his left hand to his right to continue writing as he kept a glossy look upon his hand. It felt devoid of that once important feeling he was so proud of only three months ago. A flicker of wind lofted through the window pushing the flame back to reveal his figure to the light. A majority of his body was hidden among smooth vagabond clothing, and steel bound combat boots sharpened to ease travel over most types of terrain. His hands were garbed in black leather as if to hide a old wound. The only sight to behold of his origin was the lower half of his face with mellow lips, and surprisingly light cheeks. As the flame flickered back upright the book was finished, and left open to dry out the ink into the rough pages. Orion's Book that was what his father had jokingly labeled it when he had given it to Alrevis as a congratulation for making his last held rank within the Stanislav military... Brigadier.

"All that thrown out the window," he finally spoke to himself as he closed the finished book looking at the purple hardcover clasped with a steel binding such Tome potential items were rare to find unwritten in. Upon the books front cover rested a emblem of a apple with a rose in full bloom atop its handle. His family crest, and the very reason he had joined to follow the proud lineage of protectors throughout his family tree. Yet now... it was the very reason he had to leave his proud home behind, and why he had to find her. He couldn't think about just Stanislav right now.. no he had to think of Jedica as a whole. Yet that didn't mean he couldn't at least inform his lordess of his current actions. Why he had abruptly left without word.

"Thats what you'll be for," Alrevis whispered as he softly hushed the dim lite into eternal sleep with a hushed breath of air before the window opened wide with a rather unnatural burst of ravenous wind. Placing his book into his bookcase located on his right side he pulled out a letter holding it outside the window. Without looking up he pulled his hand back revealing the letter go as a second gust of wind entered the room misplacing many a item inside this time along with wildly setting his robes into motion as he grabbed the rest of his belongings.

Once outside the air was strangely calm for how it had just assaulted the room. Yet as Alrevis continued to move forward keeping his figure hidden a large shadow past by in the shape of a beautiful beast from the lands he now missed. The letter the courier carried even if stolen would confuse all those who laid eyes on it. For in it contained a simple song meant for a lordess' eyes only. So as his robes carried the weight of the wind he himself continued forward knowing well what he had to head off if he was to get to her sooner then they could. The problem would mostly be how far had she already gotten. Clearly her only choice in the mayhem would be the Thaila-Eshil border, and without Stanislav or Thaila messengers the news of the turnaround wouldn't get to her for quite awhile. The worst bit was even if that wasn't the case she wouldn't turn around still, but they would be on her tail regardless. That wasn't the only thing to consider either... mercenary bands, thief guilds, and even the sneaked in key political figures were at their disposal of options. Yet if she did make it to Eshil the best sorted action would be assassin's, and mercenaries especially so close to the border. Further in though thieves, and "they" would be the higher worry. With all things considered, and locations displayed his best bet would be in triangulation that she would more then likely hit Abelsol. Without a doubt she should of had some vassals even if after the fact. Besides if she had been caught he would have known already. The city was a marketing venture they would need supplies, but for sure their numbers would be small. Also it was likely her look would have been changed by now if they were smart.

"However one could still easily identify her by those eyes," he mumbled as he followed the road into midnight mulling over other issues that would have to be tackled by the time he would meet up with his quarry.

.......................................................

Present Day
Outskirts of Abelsol

No word on capture, ransom, nor death from any of the sources he had discern along the way of his travels. He had also yet to hear of any further movement of Stanislav's military force, and definitely none entering Eshil territory yet. The problem though was he had been on the road a bit no so any changes to the situation could have bloomed. However, until their was knowledge to devour from a solid source Alrevis would keep his hood down, and his imagination under control. He needed her alive, and would be damned to let her questions of many a mystery, and subterfuge surrounded her, and he would see them answered. Even if once again he would need to place his life on the line.

"Now where are you heading past this."
 
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TheMidnightSin

The Guilty Crown
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Thalia, 19th day of Zoi in the Season of Growing 1012 ADW.
4 Days after the fall of Thalia.
The border of Stanislav and Thalia
Verran Verran

Thalia, 19th day of Zoi in the Season of Growing 1012 ADW.
4 Days after the fall of Thalia.
The border between Stanislav and Thalia
Ambling through the forests along the border of Stanislav and Thalia, it was well past midnight and the heavily wooded area yielded numerous bandits, brigands, and cutthroats. Of course, being a manslaying assassin that he was, he thirsted for the blood to pour. He wanted to see it drizzle upon the ground in a fine mist, and spray paint the various flora as though he were a man possessed. Possessed and crazed. He was seen often by marauders as a snowy, ashen-haired wolf. Given his Midorian side of things, they'd begun to sprout rumors of the 'Wolf of Miburu'; a supposed psychotic and crazed individual who stalked the borderline. By letting one man live each time he encountered a group of thieves or marauding warriors he let his actions speak for themselves; he let that one man spread the rumors like wildfire and sweep over the region.

While not enough on his own to deter them, his infamy grew as did his legend and that, that instilled dread into the craven and the pusillanimous. This would often lead them to be paranoid, unable to hunt for food or get proper rest; it made them all the more timorous and when you're starving, cold and haven't slept in a few days because you're so in fear for your life, well that just makes you all the more susceptible to attack. Like his namesake, he would run people ragged; instilling a great trepidation in the 'survivors'. What was worse was that once they started to realize he was tracking those he let live to the hideouts of other brigands like they're a wounded animal bleeding and he was simply following the trail of blood they were leaving behind--they started abandoning one another altogether.

Chaos would erupt; pandemonium would convert stout warriors into sniveling children as a great apprehension apprehended them. Tirelessly, he hunted the groups down until only sparse populations remained. Like swathes of trees being burned away by the entire acre, he was intensely and unceasingly harsh to those he deemed too unfit or dishonorable. For those that were marauders, barbarians, and savages, only cold steel also death would await them. It was Beguiling and entrancing, and, in a way, mesmerizing. The way he could dispatch the lives of men with singular, precise blows to open areas; the carotid, the femoral of an exposed thigh, or the severing of knuckles of the fingers and left them at the mercy of his other blades. Three-inches was a far way to cut, though one might not think so. It was enough for those that stood in his way to conform to the harsh reality of their own mortality.

Seta continued on, following the trail his victim had led him on. The vegetation disturbed; branches broken in the wake of a heavy set of steps he came to a clearing. A large open space where no pine or Ash trees resided, Instead, in the middle was a knoll, a mound or a hill with the mouth to a cave. Before the mouth of the cave was a large bonfire, and around it a gathering of bandits, thieves and brigands. His steps up till now had been deathly silent; he left no trail as he followed carefully in the footsteps someone desperately trying to get away from a lurking shadow not far behind. It was only when he deliberately stepped hard with his leather boots did he snap a branch and alert the dozen or so men surrounding the pyre.

"Who goes there?!" One man shouted in a paranoid voice, quickly rising to his feet, sword in hand.

Even with the light of the pyre, he could see nothing that was until Seta came into view more and more. His expeditious walking garnered the attention of the rest of the group who all stood up. Their faces paled when they say Seta's snowy complexion and white silvery hair. It was the Wolf of Miburu! As Seta stood there along the slope of the hill, one booted foot jutting out before the other, his haori; a traditional Midorian hip- or thigh-length kimono-style jacket, worn over a kosode fluttered in the wind behind him. He always one sleeve on and one cast off, usually his right sleeve.

"I want..." Seta's eyes flashed amongst the group until landing on a man in the very back. He then rose one vambrace wrapped limb and pointed causing the man to shriek. "Him." Lightning flashed behind Seta who looked dead set on getting what he wanted.

"Huh?! Are you crazy?! You know how many people are here?" The man Seta that had originally addressed him declared.

Seta's eyes flashed again, their dark almond colored irises catching another lightening and reflected back into the faces of those beneath him. "I'd say...15?" With each flash of electrical current Seta's shadow seemed to grow larger and more ominous.

"You're nuts if you think you can take us all on!" The man shouted angrily, feeling offended.

Seta sighed, continuing forwards undaunted. The first man to stepped forwards to put a hand on Seta's shoulder. Seta slowly turned his head towards the hand then he stared at the man's solar plexus. That was their first mistake. The second when the man tried to shove him back but despite the man's girth, Seta didn't budge one step backward. Instead, Seta's hand had coiled itself around the man's thumb and the back of his sweaty, thick backhand and rotated it counter-clockwise viciously snapping the man's radial bones in his wrist. The pain was immediate and the man screamed with it in his voice. He was taken to the ground with a swift quick to the knee and stretching out the man's arm to the side before he kicked the back of the elbow breaking his arm backward like the stick he'd stepped on.

Not yet finished, Seta then slammed his boot to the back of the man's skull; connecting with the base of the cranium like a piston It drove the unforgivable man's head straight into a large protruding stone with a sickening 'crack' that could even churn the stomachs of the bandits as the man stopped moving almost entirely immediately. One of their biggest, heaviest strikers was just taken down in a mob of fluidity and graceful movements followed by forceful impact to specific joints. Now they knew why he was called ‘Wolf’. He was something to be admired from afar unless you wanted to be mauled single-handedly. Seta proceeded forwards, unabated like a raging storm he walked right in the middle of the host of bandits.

The second hostile emerged from behind, however, Seta was no fool. Everything he did deliberately and with purpose. Everything for Seta slowed down as his reaction speed took over. He grabbed Izanagi, sheath and all, and shoved it down, sending the sheath careening upward and into the jaw bone of his assailant. The sheath connected before the man's blade could even connect. The blow sent the attacker sailing backward, losing grip on his sword. Seta caught the cruciform shaped sword before it touched the ground. The attacker hit the ground, hard; shoulders and the back of his neck and head ultimately toppling over, rolling several times before rolling to a stop onto his hands and knees. He spat up several teeth all at once. His teeth that remained were shattered; like a mirror fracture.

Seta was soon upon the man as he counted his teeth with his tongue. Gripping the unsharpened portion of the long, narrow shaped cruciform blade. The enemy looked up to see, to his horror Seta gripping the edges with both hands like a handle or lever; the thick thongs of leather and strips of steel covering his palms kept the blunted weapon from cutting into his hands. He slung the weapon down as though holding a mace and cleaved the man's head in twain. Blood erupted from his scalp as Seta pressed a boot to the lobotomized as he pried the weapon from the crevice in the enemy's skull with a slurping sound as the spongy tissues of the brain re-carved its way back out letting go as it spun vertically in the air before grabbing the long sword yet again by the hilt. The body of the man he'd half-sworded for the murder stroke, slumped backward as Seta turned to fight the third assailant.

He charged the third attacker, Sweeping the long sword from the ground along his left hip to meet the blade coming down in an overhead cleaving motion. The forward swept cross guard ceased the motion of the attacking blade only after it struck blade-to-blade, careened down the length of Seta's sword dispersing sparks as the steel flaked away little by little until it hit the handguard. Locking up with the man, Seta kicked at his knee snapping it backward in violent retreat, dropping the man to one knee. Now, having the advantage of leverage, Seta torqued his body, rotating it and angling his sword downwards before he forced his own blade into the earth pinned the swordsman's sword to the ground as well with the quillions.

Seta then brought a foot across the man's face laterally, snapping the man's head to the left violently and dropping him to his second knee and both hands. Jarred and disoriented, the brigand shook his head trying to get the numbing sensation that had overcome him as his body raised once again. But, before the man could lean all the way back, Seta's body continued to rotate, planting his right foot, pivoting sharply as the top of his left booted foot slung out in an arc, 'hooking' the fore of his ankle where his foot could flex and the top of the foot; hundreds of pounds of force impacted the back of brigands head shoving it down unto the jutting round pommel. It was enough to crush the man's cheekbone, crack his eye socket, and fracture his nasal passages like bridges buckling to the fury of a rising river. The man yelped, as he rebounded from the hilt. Seta's foot set down behind but only momentarily as it then swept forwards to kick the sword, he'd taken from his second opponent letting it gleam as it spun diagonally.

Seta suddenly flipped forwards in place, extending a leg forwards to strike the pommel and send it like a lance to shatter the man's clenched teeth, the needlepoint tip piercing out the back his skull near the base. As soon as Seta landed gracefully, His hands both took hold of and twisted the blade brutally causing bones to shift and flesh and muscle to shear, separating from the bone that was crumbling due to the traumatic injury. Seta then, with raw savagery in his eyes, torqued his hips to the side and tore the blade out sideways. This motion was fluid, quick and effectively separated the upper maw of the human being from the bottom jawbone. This caused the top of his head to 'flop' to the side as it hung from the elasticity of the bit of muscle along the opposite side of his jaw.

The body slumped sideways to the ground, tongue stick flicking as if trying to mutter something and blood inundating not only the vegetation but also the soft, grainy soils at Seta’s feet. Marching past the deceased body of a much larger man than he himself was, he flexed his wrist, whirling the blade in hand. It 'screamed' as it was spun through the air--around and around and around it went, building momentum and velocity steadily. His eyes darting back and forth, Seta pursued his next opponent. When a spearman lunged at him, jumped back and cleaved the shaft in half before impaling the man upon the long swords broad blade; entering his solar plexus, it tore through the elastic band of muscle, perforated his heart and ran straight out the back. Pulling the sword back out, the man fell to his knees before being summarily beheaded with a roundabout stroke from the Stanislavian blade.

"Who the hell is this guy?! An assassin or something?!" One of the men shouted as Seta dropped the cumbersome weapon. Its bottom was too heavy for one such as he who was used to a more elegant design.

"No," Said one of the other men, speaking up as Seta stood amidst the scene of a massacre. The bodies of several, slaughtered by or with their own weapon. "He isn't assassin. He may kill those who are targets, true, but he doesn't do it for money. He is a Samurai. And he kills for honor and pride at the behest of his lordship." The man stepped out of the crowd, hair dark as coal, unlike Seta's white tresses. Also, unlike Seta who had wavy hair like plucked downy feathers, this one had crisp-- straight long hair. Much the same went for the two following him. "Am I right, Wolf? Are you Samurai? or are you just a Hitokiri--a manslayer?"

"I am Brigadier Seta Soichiro of the Stanislavian 13th Legion--and I've come to mete out divine punishment. You are all dead men by the order of Lord Commander Sjur Skramstad." Seta declared. "Do try to die with some form of dignity." He then said coldly. "Lest this is a slaughter of beasts and not men."

"So that's it, should we bare our necks to your blade as we prostrate beneath you? Where's the justice?! Where's the trial!?" The masterless samurai, Ryūzaki questioned.

"Who said there would ever be a trial for a fear monger like you?" Seta said unemotionally. "Tell me ronin, where is your master? What's that? You don't have one? For shame! Shame upon you for banding with brigands, thieves, and murderers! Shame upon your family--shame upon all who know of your wretched existence! If you have any shred of honor left--you'll commit seppuku."

"How dare you condescend to Ryūzaki Tsuneari, I'll have your tongue!" The samurai to the right of Ryūzaki, the man that had originally called Seta out in the first place, shouted and went to unsheathe his sword.

Ryūzaki calmly dissuaded him by placing a hand against the offended one's hand. Once calmed, Ryūzaki lowered his hand to grip the hilt of his sword. "You're right," he chuckled. "We have thrown away our honor--but you know..." Suddenly unsheathing his sword as he sprinted forwards shouting "We never lost our pride!"

Ryūzaki Brought his blade crashing down with full momentum. But Seta seeing it coming from miles away, lifted his sword--sheath and all--blocking the finely edged weapon with his rounded handguard. It rattled and shook as Seta just stood there momentarily and single-handedly held off the offense of the samurai before him. "Death it will be then; all those you hold so guardedly--take this to the grave--they will die by my sword."

Seta cast Ryūzaki's sword aside with a shrug, a rotation of his shoulder before flipping the steel construction sheath around and careening the end into Ryūzaki's left eye; the gelatinous orb that was his eye erupted, blood poured out of his eye socket.

Then, in a six-tenths of a second Seta tucked the sheath in his sash letting it hang by his side, snuggly before unsheathing the Izanagi, the black steel iconic in its presentation as it didn't gleam or glitter as a steel sword would have. At least, not yet. Still, in those microseconds, he carved a swath through Ryūzaki's side, just under the rib cage. He sundered the man, rending his right kidney, liver, and pancreas all the way up to his diaphragm. The force was further amplified by Seta's left hand 'shoving' the blade deeper and further than it would have gotten having to cleave through muscle, fat, and bone. Tearing the blade out of Ryūzaki's body caused him to spiral wildly around spraying blood before falling to the ground lifelessly. Rain poured down around the men as lightning flooded the skies above followed by a thunderous boom.

The henchman that was on Ryū4zaki's left side shoved the other henchmen away and further to the right. He saw what was coming; death. He drew his sword but there was no time to even block. Seta was upon him like a wolf indeed; ducking and driving the tip of his now backward facing sword, through the lower mandible of his opponent, piercing and pinning his tongue to the roof of his mouth and jutted out the top of his skull. Pulling back and down, the henchmen's face was sheared in two. The structured bones giving way to the sheer cutting power of Izanagi. Brain matter and blood erupted as time sped up to the third henchmen and Seta pivoted out of the way of the shower of crimson fluids. The second man slumped to the ground leaving the third samurai shaking, trembling.

"He's...He's not even human! How can someone move so fast?!" The third samurai screamed inside his own mind.

Performing Chiburi and slinging his blade to the left to flinging the blood from his blade, Seta slowly raised his sword to the level of the third samurai and twisted it. Now it gleamed, now it shone. A sword fit for a demon. The man's eyes visibly shook with terror before glancing to the side. He suddenly realized he was going to die there and his instincts reflexively looked for a way to escape.

"Your move, dead man--You'd better not drag your friends lower by running." Seta's sword gleamed from the blood that ran its length, casting light that made the man's attention. "Now die."

"N-N-Never!" The samurai screamed before rushing Seta head-on, swinging his sword laterally striking Seta's 'Izanagi'.

The black blade producing sparks as the blades clashed over before Seta gouged the man's lower left side, followed quickly thereafter by a slash to the samurai's left shoulder, shearing the flesh, severing muscle, and cleaving through his left collar bone. The youngest of the three samurai spun, his whole world was a whirlwind dream. He caught himself by plunging his sword into the soils; the blood-stained ground. The earth itself seemed to be steeped in blood. Recollecting himself, he withdrew his sword from that ocean of red. Water ran down his face as though tears were forming and running rampant across his visage. Heart pounding; desperation gripping him with fear coking away what little air that would suffice.

"I... I will not die here! I must not die here!" The man contemplated as he still bled profusely, raising his sword once more, the slender arched blade's tip directed towards Seta who walked nonchalantly towards him.

The last samurai remaining charged with fire in his lungs, bellowing in both pain and anger. Seta's footwork kicked into high gear once again propelling him forwards as though he'd been shot straight from a cannon. His body 'flickered' through the darkness of the evergreen trees of the Stanislavian mountains, and the lightning that streaked across the blackened and bruised skies above. The rain was still pouring down, and as the moon became obscured by the cloudy overcast a deathly silence grew to engulf the surrounding area. Even the insects were silent as the rain continued to turn once powdery residue like earth into a soft boggy area of land that gave way underfoot.

Lashing out, the young, and somewhat inexperienced samurai swung from over his right shoulder in a diagonal angle of approach that, if connected, would have carved a path from Seta's left shoulder down to his right hip. Seeing the path of the glimmering blade, Seta timed the strike precisely and stepped off the side of a tree prior to contact. Performing effortlessly, what was essentially large, sweeping and slanted cartwheel over the blade's edge before landing behind the direction of attack, and adjacent to his attacker.

Seta had brought the full fury of the Izanagi to bear against the blunted backside of his attacker’s sword napping the steel in half before he then 'flipped' his sword around cutting upwards, severing the man's hands at the wrist. He then angled the blade of the Izanagi--the pointed tip--the kissaki--towards the man's throat. Seta thrust his sword forth, plunging the black curved sword through the man's esophagus and windpipe. Remaining in the crouched position he'd originally, he twisted the blade severing his spinal cord at the base of his enemy's skull. Seta slowly retrieved his sword letting the body slump to the ground as he rose slowly to a standing posture from that of one that saw his knees bent and b

Turning the blade with an edge to the left, Seta extended the arm straight from the shoulder, bending his arm at the elbow whilst pointing the sword straight back. He then brought his sword hand to the side of his head; cutting down with his arm extending straight in front, sword pointing diagonally to the ground Seta cast the excess blood to the saturated ground. Seta then rotated his wrist and brought mouth of his scabbard and tip of Izanagi together, directly in front of his navel; forming a single line with the sword and the scabbard. When the sword point was right over the mouth of the scabbard, he sheathed the blade by slowly bringing mouth of scabbard and blade together.

Turning his head to the right slowly, his eyes following his target, the deserter into the abandoned mine. He lifted his now free hand to the whistle made of animal bones and wood that hung around his neck. A simple construction, he blew softly into the device; a resonating vocalization that made a series of bird chirps that echoed softly throughout the forested hills like a passing breeze. The bandits and outlaws hadn't seen him perform the action for fear had gripped their hearts; real or fantasy, Seta had invoked a spirit of bloodlust and brutality that sent them into a frenzy.

Several or more yards away, a wyvern flapped its large leathery wings causing the air to churn creating an updraft keeping it aloft. The beast was unbelievably large, as was the rider atop it holding the reigns. The creature was as though silvery gray like a thick haze or dark brooding storm clouds. She was identifiable by the smooth, shiny segmented 'plates' that formed her beaklike face and a strong chin with a dangling frill some observers say appeared to be a goatee. She also had had a large frill that rose high over her head and continued down the span of her long, sinewy neck. Lengthy spines with dark tips supported the frill; Styrmir also had ear frills with similar spines. Two long, smooth horns with black tips that pointed back and away from the base of the creature's large skull. From afar on a clear day, it looked as though the beast had been sculpted of pure metal and its pupils faded as it grew older until the resembled naught but orbs of mercury. Styrmir carried a scent of rain about her.

The female wyvern, Styrmir, held a maximum wingspan of around 75-feet with the minimum being 30-feet; from snout to tail it was 55-feet long overall. It had a body width of around eight feet wide, a body length of 16-feet, a neck length of 15-feet, and a tail length of 24-feet. The beast's name was Styrmir and as it hovered just above the tree line, nearly imperceptible due to the inclement weather; it listened to the sounds of battle from afar.

When the chirps came to be recognized, the Wyvern lifted and turned its head in the direction that it came from like a hound pointing the way towards its quarry. The faithful mount pointed the way for Sigmund to go forth and aide in the capture of the last of the deserters they'd found that evening. With a loud whistle, Sigmund, Seta's second-in-command, re-directed the gathering of seven myrmidons and three archers towards the direction that the animal call had resonated from.

"Come on boys, the Brigadier is calling for the cavalry!" Sigmund shouted as his wyvern flew overhead then circled back towards the point of origin of the blown whistle.

The majestic beasts flapped its large wings, the air billowing harder with gale-like winds around them as the creature lifted itself higher and flew above, it’s elongated tail drifting along behind, flailing and sapping the tops of trees and sending them crashing down. The animal, Styrmir, came broke free of the tight confinement of the trees her elephantine exhale through her large nostrils, which had ridges and spiked scales as well as the tough and hard textured hide. Sigmund landed atop the grassy knoll above the mine's entrance.

The thunderous sound of swords clattering against the metal and wood scutum shields echoed throughout the wood as the men of the 13th Legion marched ever towards the group of brigands 10 or 15 of the elite shock troops lined up on the other side of the field, their mouths muttering in their war cries as they pounded their shields with their weapons with the exception of the archers who simply nocked their arrows, the deadly bodkin tips used to perforate through the light chain mail that the remaining brigands had stolen from patrols from both sides; Thalian and Stanislav had used to lightly clad themselves in some kind of protective gear.

The weapons that the legionaries carried as they marched forward were long, elegant and semi-crescent; similar to an Ufral scimitar though not quite. It had deep Midorian curves; the tip lent itself back away with a couple of sword catching 'thorns' to bind swords along the back side of the blade. The bottom curved over the knuckles over where the lead hand's fingers were to grip the elongated leather hilt that tapered to a jutting point of steel. The curved almost S-shaped blade was 3 feet long and 1 1/2 wide. Three separate bindings of black steel whereas the backslid into a fitted niche like the bowstring nocking an arrow. The back was tailor wrapped extensively and worked in tandem with the three rings that kept it from sliding free. The soldier's rushed the incline while the wyvern flew overhead before it came down in force.

Trees toppled, some exploded from the impact as the massive creature bounded noisily around until it slid sideways. Seta neither moved nor flinched as the ten-ton animal continue to slide digging talons into the muddy soils to get get some form of traction in the muck and grime of the blood and rain-soaked ground. Luckily, it had worked as the alnars, the digits of the batlike wings also grappled the ground. On its way down it had uprooted several trees; men were sent screaming like children in every which direction as the beast slid to a standstill next to Seta, it's knee structure at Seta's head while its femur began much higher, by four or five feet in length. It was moderate sized wyvern with scaled like plates of shimmering steel. The scales on its face much large, more prominent than the smaller diamond-shaped scales that aligned the rest of its body. It was a slate grey like thick misty clouds; storm clouds that billowed overhead flashing lighting and causing a ruckus with the thunder.

"You're late," Seta stated sternly, gripping Izanagi one-handed, the shaft of the blade face down. "What would you have done if I had been slain. hmm?" He questioned his captain who tugged the reigns and made the creature coil its tail around Seta, its spiked balled tip thud the ground ready, itching to swing the club which had retracted spikes and 'blades'.

Seta touched the beast's thigh, its hide was unsurprisingly warm despite being thoroughly saturated in rainwater, especially where the crevices were the rain flowed down the sides of its belly. The wyvern snorted as if to say "Only my rider touches me." But at the same time the beast knew, it sensed Seta's hunter-esque spirit and to it, this made her a worth predator. Thought it would always recognize its master, it sensed something inherent violent and volatile about Seta.

"I'd be getting a promotion?" The pompous ass of a man answered, lifting his visor to spit out a crinkled cigarette, the embers still glowing softly, but not for long as it dove into a puddle of mud.

"Heh. Hardly. You're barely worth the captain rank. The only reason you got it was because no one could beat you except myself and the higher-ups, of course." Seta answered coldly, never taking his eyes off the mine's entrance. "Do you think you can hold them off? The last deserter fled into that cave there." Seta questioned.

"Who the hell do you think you're talking to? They don't call me Sigmund Giantsbane for nothing!" Sigmund retrieved his polearm, a halberd of considerable size.

The girth of the head made it extremely top heavy. Seta couldn't even lift it, nor could five men--now when they all pitched in the weapon was able to be picked up. Only Sigmund due to his tall, broad-shouldered build could lift that massive weapon and swing it like it were effortlessly as he could. The man had power in spades and pain threshold beyond the normal man to match, but Seta had speed, dexterity, precision, as well as being simply nimble and acrobatic. He had the stamina to run for dozens of miles without stopping. His heart rate would skyrocket while in his unyielding his pace. The heavily armored knight patted the Wyvern side as he slung the halberd with a chipped edge over one shoulder, it also bared a long spike at the top and what appeared to be a pickaxe of some sort on the backside.

"Come on Atorix, we got work to do!" The wyvern hissed excitedly."That's right buddy, you get to let loose--but don't you go swing that tail around without warning! You cracked some ribs. I'm lucky that the spikes didn't gouge my armor too deep. It's about laid me open." The wyvern leaned its head down and nuzzled into Sigmund who petted the creature. Wyverns had always been seen as a status quo in the inner circles, and the bonds they seemed to make had always intrigued and entranced Seta. He wondered what kind, if any would have him, be like to him what he was witnessing right then.

"Are you done, or should I just go on ahead?" Seta questioned a brow raised.
Wyvern Rider.jpg
"Yeah, yeah, I'm going. Atorix just wanted some affection before this massacre happens, it's a tradition!" Sigmund threw up his arms. Then he whistled and the Wyvern looked like an attentive dog and lumbered closer to the massive knight. "Let's give'em hell!" The rider rose his halberd "No survivors for this these spineless heathens!" He then roared.

When Sigmund rose the serrated ax head, the draconian responded letting out an ear-splitting bone-chilling roar. By this point, Seta was quietly lurking in the shadow of the beast that blotted out the moonlight glimmers. As it rose its tail tipped with a sphere that came apart like a machine and revealed large, edged spikes that were nothing to say of the tree stump sized club they extended from. Seta quickly and daringly ran beneath the reptiles bipedal lags just as it rotated its entire body, spinning in such a manner it skewered one man before mashing him against a tree before sweeping back around and smashing another man into the ground---with several resounding 'thuds'. Bones were most definitely shattered and ligaments torn asunder.

Seta had it the ground and rolled over one shoulder to run towards the cave's mouth. He slew any who dared interfere quick drawing cuts of Izanagi. Sigmund was thoroughly enjoying the wholesale slaughter; bored to his wits end patrolling the skies above along the border. His once shimmering armor depicting a wolve's head was now saturated in a thick viscous fluid called blood. It matched his helms 'tail' and the handle wrap to absorb most of the blood. Sigmund would impale his opponents with the spear-like tip of the head and then rear the ax back for a downward stroke cleaving the bandit's head and brain into halves. Once the man would drop to his knees, lobotomized thoroughly, Sigmund planed a massive metal boot to the man's chest, sawing his way through bone and muscle alike until the ax head was free.

Seta turned around just as soon as one more sprang from the trees to force his short sword in between the gaps of Sigmund's armor. He soon realized there was not only a chain shirt but a gambeson they're to protect him in such cases. Seta moved to assist but the moment that Sigmund felt the strike to his armpit, he turned to leave the ax head in another victim's scalp, stared ominously at the attacker before grabbing him off the ground, kicking and thrashing. A quick twist, a forceful tug, and the man neck was snapped like dead wood. He tossed the body elsewhere and returned to ripping through his former opponents head. No longer feeling needed as there was a rampaging Wyvern and perhaps more terrifying a knight who used to be an executioner, so beheading for him with something as unwieldy as that halberd was like Seta practicing kata with his bokken.

Rushing inside, the tunnel was dark and barely lit. It was all the more the further he went in as if someone had blown out the candles. He came to a clearing with several gateways or openings, but the clearing was wide enough to do one-on-one combat in. His heart was thudding from his hastened pace, but, after several deep breaths he calmed the rhythm down to a dull ache as he concentrated on his other senses; taste, smelling, hearing, feeling. He felt the wind billow down the long corridor he entered from, he tasted the stale air, he smelled sweat and blood and then he felt it a sudden 'whoosh' of movement. Sidestepping quickly, barely evading the spear thrust towards his head. In an instant, a momentary split second, Seta then brought his sword down and cleaved the fastened head clean from the haft of the spear leaving a perfectly symmetrical round piece of wood. It was now a staff if nothing else.

Though he could not see his opponent for he concealed himself well. However, moving counter-clockwise he maneuvered the man impeccably right where he needed him. He was unassumingly in line with the partial lit hallway. Now Seta could see the deserter's silhouette. Seta assumed Jodan Kamae stance; a stance with which the sword is overhead and pointing diagonally back. Another lung to Seta's throat saw the swordsman take immediate action, splitting the haft long ways and cutting both thumbs before stopping as he felt the blade start to carve its way into the man's collar bone. The man yelped and screamed, holding the two severed thumbs in his hands he became a sobbing mess of a human being.

Bringing the mouth of scabbard and middle of the hilt of blade together directly in front of the navel, he slid back of the blade to the right over the semicircle formed by thumb and forefinger while sliding the scabbard back into the sash. He then formed a single line with sword and scabbard when the sword point is right over the mouth of the scabbard. Seta sheathing the blade by lowly bringing mouth of scabbard and blade together. His fingers trailed along the blade to wash off as much blood as possible from the blade as it slowly drew to a close.

"Have some modicum of dignity and take your defeat like a man. You're still alive--for now, that's more than I could say for you roving band of murderers and thieves out there." There was a coldness to his voice that made the air seem to drop in temperature as Seta spoke. He also had an unshakeable will and a presence that the man hadn't seen until the Lord Commander Tercsh would often be akin to. "Come," He grabbed the man up by his shoulders. He was a sturdy man to be sure but he was no Sigmund. This guy felt like pebbles compared to boulders.

"Where are we going?!" The man asked afraid of the answer.

"To your trial. I didn't cut your shoulder too badly, you'll live through a grueling forced march of 18 miles a day. That's how miles my men walk regularly when not searching for people like you." Seta told him with no remorse.

"My trial!? But they'll kill me! You mine as well kill me here and now!" The man argued even as he was being laced with a rope around the wrists: double knotted so escape was out of the question.

"Maybe they will--you did desert your post and hid out the marauders and pillagers--good riddance I say," Seta responded callously. "Men who disgrace the uniform and only pay homage to themselves are worse than scum." Seta continued to scold the man. "But, maybe just maybe, they'll let you off. You can't hold a sword in either hand anymore--you're no threat to anyone anymore." Seta said justly thus and walked him down the hall where he was met with ten men with obsidian colored tower shields with a large bird emblazoned on its metallic front; they covered one other in a tightnit, cohesive manner.

The shields were large, cumbersome but they had grown accustomed to the weight. They were well-built fine Stanislavian men. It was 'standard' despite being so large. It covered each man from their shoulders to the tops of their feet. They also had ready their glimmering steel blades; curved wicked like a falchion. Along the backside were 'hooks' or 'thorns' to catch glancing blows and parries. It had a downward that came out over the knuckles of the hand with a serrated edge bound by three black iron rings that helped bind the weapons on edge to the hilt of the sword could be wielded two-handedly or single-handedly. The pommel had a claw-like jutting point.

"Sir! its you!" They lowered their guard slacking a bit as their tensions eased. Seta pushed the man forward into the arms of the waiting guards. "Tend to his fingers, no meals for any of the deserters for tonight--ten lashes for each except him." Seta paused. " Bullwhip." He then approached the soldier who had doubted him.

"What's your name soldier?" He asked, straightening the young man's segmented plate mail. Straightening the folds of the shoulder pauldrons.

"Calen, Sir." The man responded before Seta tilted his head thoughtfully.

"Calen, let me give you a bit of advice, I've learned."

"Yes sir, anything Sir!" The soldier stated enthusiastically.

Seta leaned in past his ear, looking forwards arm draped over the young man's chest, a dagger he'd taken from the soldier himself the pointed tip bearing down against the protruding vertebrae at the base of the young man's nape. "You really ought to be careful of what equipment you carry--you may just need to fight it someday. Learn the ins and outs of your weapons and shield and you'll easily be prepared for anything." Seta handed the man back his dagger. Beads of cold sweat already forming at his brown. "Oh, and one more thing--don't doubt me. If I am hard on you it's because it is necessary. If I wasn't hard on you then you wouldn't be so effective as a team."

"Y-y-yes, sir!" He raised his fist to his chest in salute to Seta.

With a slight nod of acknowledgment, Seta grasped two fingers and sauntered away towards the campfire where the six captives had their arms bound to pieces of wood with two soldiers at either holding and supporting the lumber. Sigmund was undoubtedly looking towards this. His sadist nature was never more evident than when he gave out lashings. In the meaty fist of Sigmund's hand, he bore a nine-foot cattle whip he dropped the eight-foot tassel gripped the foot long knotted handle. He drew the lash back quickly before arching it forwards on the first deserter. One Stanislav soldier offered the man something to bite down on but with a shake of Seta's head, and his cold eyes shining, the soldier backed away.

Seta stood there as each man after the next hollered, screamed and writhed as their skin was split apart from the velocity and inertia of the tassles striking bare exposed skin leaving strips of carmine. It wasn't a cat of nine, but the whip worked efficiently sewing the seeds of despair. The final man, however, clenched his jaw shut, teeth biting into the soft tissues of the tongue before a might hand gripped both sides of the man's jaw. Fearful eyes looked up as the lashes kept coming.

"Five more--just for trying to take a coward's way out. You'll learn one way or another you'll meet your maker--I'll assure you of that." Sigmund swung the whip an additional five times as Seta held the man's mouth agape, his other hand tucked neatly behind his back.

Seta's eyes never moved nor waivered from the pupils of the condemned as he teared up and began seething trying to fight back the pain.

Once the lashes had been dealt, the backs of the six men looking more or less like raw beef and the whip coated in blood, a mixture of the convicted. Releasing the man's jaw, and walked in a slow, relaxed manner, without hurry or effort before stopping in front of the seven men.

"You will have no dinner tonight; tomorrow you will. We will be marching to Thalia's capital where you will meet your judgment. Pray God is merciful for I am not. And if anyone is to execute you, it'll be me. I hunted you down for days, to find you in hovels, huts--caves! Full of thieves and brigands! The dredges of society! The very ones you were sworn to defend against and prosecute to the fullest extent of Stanlavian law! Seeing men who wore the colors of law-abiding citizens--some of you still do--sickens and disgusts me. So pray to whatever God you find solace--because tomorrow we march towards your judgment." The glimmer of his silver eyes with gold flecks burned with intensity. The fires of a thousand suns couldn't be it's equal


Thalia, 23rd day of Zoi in the Season of Growing 1012 ADW.
8 Days after the fall of Thalia.
The Capital of Thalia

Somewhere along the way a messenger had rode up to Brigadier Seta and told him, Lord Commander Amelia Tercsh required his 'expertise' and said that he knew nothing else. Seta ordered him his horse. Meanwhile, the twenty or so men that had been assigned to his battle group formed two standard columns on either side of the horse's flanks and in between with a long tied to their shoulders, a leash to the men's rope bindings as they march directly behind the horse, a ways back. Each soldier carried their shield on the shoulder facing the open field they advanced through. Once given the horse, they made haste as was feasible, marching 23 miles a day now and stopping at night to set up camp which the criminals helped with, hammering spikes down with wooden mallets.


After the camp was set up, they were allotted the extra rations except for one man who had his thumbs cut off and cauterized--the Brigadier gave hem a portion of his own food. "Mind this not--I just don't want you dying before we get to Thalia. Your crimes will not go unpunished." Seta would say to the man each time before setting a dish of fine silver with grapes and venison. The man would relish every bite, savoring it for his dreams even to taste it over and over again.


Then it happened. They trudged by two enormous pillars of Pentellic Marble and limestone, fluted columns; vertical semi-circular groves were made down the grain at the tops spanned a pediment with heroic statuesque motifs. There spanned a cobbled bridge that sat just above the water's surface. They marched to the city gates where guard atop the ramparts asked. "Who goes there!"

"I am Brigadier Seta Soichiro--The Lord Commander seeks my audience, I should say that you should let me in. I also have captured eight deserters that need to see judgment."

With that, the gates were opened and the menagerie of soldiers, a wyvern rider, and a samurai along with eight disheveled men who were, by that time, begging for a break their feet and backs ached and throbbed. The men were taken to a cell, Sigmund stood at the gate while his wyvern perched up on the wall. Dismounting the steed, Seta was directed towards where Amelia was admiring the works of art. Strolling up to the two guards guarding the room, he gave them a quick glance then continued on into the decorated room of fineries; exquisite marble statues, glossy precious stones, and paintings of various kinds.

His first impression of Amelia was that she was one of the statues that had a timeless expression, a tireless exuberance to her sharp, angled features that also reminded him again of a statue. But she had a rosy balm to her cheeks giving them life and warmth. Immediately he recognized her artistic curiosity. Her composure was impeccable, she stood with grace and tet, a commanding presence permeated from her like a velvety haze. She was a finite being, with nearly limitless possibilities; she was gorgeous.

Ambling up to her calmly, he looked over at the mosaic that garnered her attention. It was one of a hero overcoming a difficulty. He then spoke up; aloud and coherently. "Sometimes," He began. "The world doesn't need another hero; sometimes what it needs is a monster." The words rang loud and true as he informed her of his presence and breaking her captivated hold over the picture. It was an audacious move to be certain, but one he was dead sure with garner her intrigue.
 

Jessica2477

Your neighborhood artist
Roleplay Invitations
Group Roleplays, One on One Roleplays, Private Convo Roleplays
Posting Speed
Speed of Light, Several Posts a Day, A Few Posts A Day, One Post a Day
My Usual Online Time
All day
Writing Levels
Give-No-Fucks, Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
Male, Female
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
I do like both my partner and I to be Aggressive players. But if they're the one who shoots out ideas one after another, I resort to being passive. c:
Favorite Genres
I like Fantasy, Modern, Modern Fantasy, Yaoi, Yuri, and Romance. Please do not be shy in bringing up another genre. I just might be interested in it ^^

I can do incest and Mpreg as well
Genre You DON'T Like
Furries (Nekos are fine), Beastiality, Huge age difference (Ex: 97 with 21, can do stuff like 18 and 30), pedophilia, My Little Pony, not too big on fandoms but I can give it a shot.

No love triangles or multiple romantic partners to a single character please. Unless the person is a pimp or a whore/slut, then that's fine. I do make a few exceptions, but only a few. Love triangles being introduced into the RP makes me want to fuck off.

There is rarely a time where I am looking for a straight romance. BoyxGirl stuff is just so boring to me. Unless the plot is holy shit fabulous, please don't come requesting a straight romance RP. Especially if you want me to play the guy because you only play girls.

CanonxOC: No, just no. Especially if it's with your OC. As bad as love triangles.
Ludivine Daulfern
Mentions -


Ludivine sighed to herself, thankfully alone once again so she could continue on with her mission.

'What a waste of time.' She thought to herself. 'But at least I can move things along.'

She eyed the sky, estimating the time of day before making her plans. Ludivine wondered just how long it would take before they left. If she could enter the city without immediately being called out as a Stanislavian soldier, then she'd be fine. She'd simply have to be careful not to run into a thief or anyone that could be out searching for her.

Ludivine removed her armor swiftly and rummaged around the forest for any type of debris. Some grass, some sticks, and some long leaves would work in creating a makeshift sack that, while unreliable for long usage, would be enough to protect her armor from getting any type of unwanted residue from within her travel pack. Ludivine did a double check to ensure the knife she hid within the thigh of her boot was ready should she run into an emergency situation.

"Stay hidden dear. I need to make a quick stop inside the town so I don't have to do this again." She assured her wyvern, who didn't look too pleased about being left alone again. "I know I know. It won't be for long. Listen carefully for my whistle if anything is to happen to me." With that, she gave her dragon some reassuring petting before attaching her lance to its holder; made for wyvern soldiers to stow their weapons until further usage.

With that, Ludivine made her way into the town of Abelsol, searching for a shop that sold clothing all the while watching carefully for her brother or for Reina. She did not want to be caught so ill-prepared for combat.

'Something doesn't feel right...' She thought to herself. Nonetheless, she needed those commoner clothes 'less she risk going into a town that wanted her dead.




Gavril Daulfern
Mentions - Falcon Falcon



He tried, he truly did, but Gavril just couldn't relax enough for a night's rest. The knight could not help but imagine the fall of Thalia and the death of the former Mediator every time he closed his eyes. The screams, the blood... His evening only resulted in him lying awake, pondering what he and his charge were going to do after the original plan.

What if they failed? What would they do then?

He wished he could apologize to Reina properly; however times he needed for everything that happened. Gavril knew he was only human, and he could not protect everyone, but the weight of the guilt was still very much present in his chest. Would he feel better if he apologized to Reina? Or would the guilt weigh more heavily on him?

Gavril sat nearby Reina at all times around these strangers. A strange (and slightly weird) woman near his charge's neck with scissors; of course he needed to watch carefully. One quick move and Reina could have been good as dead!

He watched as Sadia snipped away at Reina's hair, turning the once long blue locks into a short blonde cut. If Gavril had not been sitting here to witness the transformation take place, he might have mistaken Reina for a simple common girl.

And he had to admit, Reina's hair did look good. It did wonders of making her look like a small teenager.

He'd have to remind himself to search for a girl with short blonde hair instead of the usual blue should they end up separating.

With Agato's contract bought out and their next destination planned, Gavril gently nudged Reina with a look in his different colored eyes that she would be all too familiar with.

'I hope you know what you're doing.'




Suraya of Farrokhzad
Mentions - Fyrra Fyrra



Suraya hadn't even shot her magic and yet she heard the horse whinny behind her in pain or fear. She looked over her shoulder as Naira tore the arrow out to see that the opposing bowman had been struck. Quickly she looked around until a speck of purple in the distance caught her eye.

A tiny person who looked hesitant to get out of there. She smiled brightly at this new person, piecing together that this person was responsible for them not getting another arrow shot at them..

"Ahahaha~ I love the thrill of a chase as much as I love new friends~ Let's do the usual, but let's go talk to that purple bow person while we're at it!" The mage told her companion as she readied her magic.

Suraya launched three fireballs, one at a time and each trying to hit in front of the opposing horses' feet to try to spook them into, hopefully, bucking. She didn't want to hurt the animals; she just wanted to buy herself and Naira time to get out of the chase and or get to their purple bow friend.

 

TheSly

Never Stops Talking
Roleplay Invitations
Group Roleplays, One on One Roleplays, Chat Roleplays, Private Convo Roleplays
Posting Speed
A Few Posts A Day
My Usual Online Time
4 PM - 10 PM GMT +1
Writing Levels
Intermediate
Genders You Prefer Playing
Primarily Prefer Male
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Moreso Passive than Aggresive. However, if I have something particular in mind that can very easily change.
Favorite Genres
FANTASY!
Also Romance and the like. The more cheesy the better!
Genre You DON'T Like
Horror. No questions.
Sci-Fi, due to lack of interest.
Levi Callaghan
Outside Tahir, Ufral
7 Days after the fall of Thalia
Mentions - Fyrra Fyrra Jessica2477 Jessica2477

Once the first fireball was released, throwing sand into the wind as it flew through the air., Levi turned away from the attackers and held his arm in front of his eyes, desperately trying to shield them from the sand. His attention had completely shifted. With a sort of childlike curiosity and happiness the archer looked at the two women on the horse, who had seemingly joined the battle.

He had not seen it exactly but one of them was able to throw fireballs around. The young archer only noticed how he mouthed 'Wow' before he heard an arrow zip by. It had missed him, but not by much, and looking back at the other archer Levi knew that the next arrow would soon follow. Almost only out of impulse the purple archer opened fire himself, and started running in the general direction of the two young women. When he assumed he was within earshot of the two, he averted his gaze only for a second to look over to the two.

"If I may take the time to ask, what is the deal with these people? Why are they hunting you? What is going on here?" As Levi asked the two. He kept shooting arrow after arrow, switching targets as often as possible, while also trying not to get hit by the other archer. Which proved to be more difficult in the sand than he had at first expected. One arrow got dangerously close to hitting him dead in the head, a last second move saw it only leave a cut on his cheek.

Levi's heart was beating out of his chest. He could feel the blood trickle down his face to his chin and into his mouth, feeling the metallic taste fill his mouth. He only now fully comprehended the situation he had gotten himself into. The entire band of mercenaries was on horseback, and he doubted that the horse of the two girls could carry him as well. There was no escape for him, if he tried to run they could easily follow him on their horses, and if the two women decided that they had to run, then he would be left alone to his certain death. He felt his sweat mix with his blood, as he thought, never stopping to release arrow after arrow.

"This was a really bad idea..."
 

Conway

King of Redheads
Roleplay Invitations
Group Roleplays, One on One Roleplays, Chat Roleplays
Posting Speed
A Few Posts A Day, One Post a Day
Writing Levels
Advanced
Genders You Prefer Playing
Primarily Prefer Male
Abelsol Marketplace, Eshil​

Veran barely paid the young archer any mind, as his had also went to his hilt. His eyes glanced back and forward between the scouts, only two remained now, and all of them knew what was up. Veran assumed the other three had darted off to gather what forces they had hidden in the alleys and side streets. He backed up to be closer to Martha, while still glancing between the scouts and the allies where the attack was most likely to come from. The archer spoke up again, but was put down gently by Gertrude. Well he was getting annoying. For the first time Veran acknowledged the archer and looked at him, "Look, Kid, now is not the time to play hero. Are you that desperate to be the hero who stands up for the helpless damsels? If you are then I suggest you pick up your bow and nock and arrow, there is trouble brewing." His tone was mocking and disparaging, but also compelling, as if to force the Archer to aide them lest it wound his pride.

Veran's eyes returned to the surroundings, as he watched the two scouts now trying to conceal their positions. He glanced back to Martha and Gertrude, "We need to move, draw them out from the alleys, that way they can't use them to surprise us, and slink away." He looked to Gertrude's horse, a fine steed, "If push comes to shove, the two of you escape on your horse." He drew his blade a few inches out from his scabbard, sighing heavily. "I have been with them less than a day and we are already in the govno," he muttered under his breath.

Takumi Takumi ElDorado ElDorado

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Outside of Tahir, Ufral
Joris had begrudgingly taken Esmail up on his contract, it was better than wasting away in that cell however. Joris had kept his breastplate donned nearly all the time, but the harsh sun and the heat of the Ufral dessert had forced him to keep most of his armor off so he could not cook himself in the blistering heat. While the armor that Esmail received with Joris was his own, the lance and sword were not, most likely items that had been separated from him back in Thalia. Joris spent much of his early days of travel with Esmail familiarizing himself with the weapons, adjusting his style slightly to continue to use these weapons effectively. Joris was most grateful however for the horse, which Esmail had gotten him, and Joris intended to prove it was money well spent. It was a brown mustang with a blonde mane, a powerful and beautiful beast. Joris decided the name it Fjord and became fast friends with his new companion. In all honesty, Joris spoiled Fjord as he frequently reminisced about his previous steed Lumen. As the bond grew between the cavalier and his mount, so did their effectiveness. His ferocity and power in training would have proved to Esmail why the horse mounted knights of Thalia and Atrea were forces not to be trifled with. Over time, Joris also became more open with Esmail appreciating the time and effort that Esmail himself was putting into him. He was no stranger to hard work, and was keen to listen to the advice Esmail presented him with. Joris knew in the back of his mind that this was probably just to, ensure the safety of his investment, or something like that, because that is how those kinds of people think, right? Joris had no taste for political maneuvering and the like, but he appreciated the knowledge all the same.

Joris watched the spectacle of the battle from his horse. He too noticed that something seemed off. This was by all means an actual fight. The three figures who were chasing the two women on the horse. His eyes widened as Esmail reviled that his charge was riding upon that horse. Joris smiled drawing his lance, "It looks like we have a bit of a scrap on our hands." He let out a laugh as Esmail suggested they help, "Haha! I thought you'd never ask."

Joris and Fjord trotted over to a spot where there was a single clear path to where the three pursuers were. He put on his helmet and took a single deep breath. That path before him was short, but still long enough for him to get Fjord up to his full speed. He gripped the reigns and took another deep breath... "YAAH!!" With a light kick and a tug on the reigns, Fjord leaped forward. Joris pushed his steed faster and faster, flying towards his enemies like a lightning bolt. He held out his spear pointing it towards the hefty Axe wielder, marking him for death. The rest would see the power of a mounted knight of Joris's class at full gallop and hopefully flee, if they were not cut down by Joris before then.

"AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!" The Howling Knight's famous war-cry rang out as he closed the last of the distance to the man. Joris couched his lance under his arm in the final moments before the strike. The Axe man was too busy trying to reign in his now frightened horse to react. By the time he turned around, it was too late. Joris's lance slid straight through the man exploding out the other side of him. The momentum of the charge carried Joris ten paces beyond his target, which caused the man to fly off of the horse while still run through. The man flailed, suspended several feet in the air, on the end of Joris's lance, helplessly trying to grab at the lance and pull him self from it, as if that would somehow help. Joris let the tip of his lance fall, and the man slid off, flopping to the ground still flailing as his life spilled out from his chest. Joris reared around to face the other two mercenaries, raising his lance, and preparing himself to launch another attack.

Falcon Falcon Jessica2477 Jessica2477 Fyrra Fyrra TheSly TheSly
 
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Nomad-22

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Reina’s Group
Jebei sat back in the chair and let Reina, and the others speak while eating some leftover bread he kept in his satchel. It is good I came prepared. His father had taught him well. For a moment his heart sank, wonderinf how the family must think of him now, leaving them without even saying farewell. He looked down at the floor briefly in silent sadness.

All the same I would’ve made the same decision as before.

During the long wait Jebei couldn’t help but think back how far he had came with Temüjin. The visions had warned of a great calamity. Although none of it had prepared him for being part of such a diverse group and lead by a fugitive heir no less. The gods are hard to understand. Jebei admitted to himself. Out of the corner his eye he watched Sadia cut Reina’s hair until the task was done.

A chuckle threatened to burst out, and Jebei had to bite his lip in restraint. Looking away and softly whistling an old tribal melody the nomad subsequently noted Gronz coming in and speaking with the group. Finally, the plan of action was announced Jebei stood and said.

“So shall it be. I’ll be tending to my horse outside and wait for you all to finish.”

Nodding at Reina, the rider proceeded to exit the room and out the inn to the stable where Temüjin left at. Upon his approach, the horse snorted in a sarcastic matter. Rolling his eyes Jebei shot back. “You’re welcome.” Nonetheless, he pulled out a small brush and began to clean off the dust on his four legged companion. The latter who snorted as if asking a question. Stopping his brushing for a moment Jebei confesses.

“In truth Temüjin I don’t know the half of what’s going on. All I’m certain of is our new friend Reina is in trouble and we have a long journey ahead of us.”

The horse looked at Jebei and stomp his left front leg twice, letting the human know he was committed to their course. A grin surfaced on Jebei’s face, proud to be in the company of such a loyal companion.
 
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Verran

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Thalia, 23rd day of Zoi in the Season of Growing 1012 ADW.
8 Days after the fall of Thalia.
Capital City of
Thallia
TheMidnightSin TheMidnightSin

“It’s nice to see a Brigadier who forgoes proper protocols and simply announce himself by mere footfalls instead of declaring himself before the guard and myself. All the while, deciding that my rank is of little worth and does not need mention.” Tersch didn’t turn to him, nor did she raise her voice to match his volume. There was no need to. She’d known the moment he entered the city. The second he’d past into the entrance hall of the museum. Her men had whispered his arrival into each down the line and to her ears. Even now, she could see him in the eye of her mind, displacing the air where he stood and let him weather the soft chill in her voice.

“However, your boldness aside, Brigadier Seta Soichiro, I have a task for you in that your claim may be tested.” Her reprimand mostly finished, she cut to the chase. “Priestess Reina Portocalis is missing and must be returned to her homeland, alive and as soon as possible. She is assumed to be fleeing south and into Eshil and is, likely, not alone. Unaccounted for is one Lieutenant Ludivine Daulfern, last known to be on the trail of the priestess. Your mission is thus, track and find the priestess then report everything about her and her entourage to the Grand Warlords.”

She paused for a breath. Letting the knowledge of who he would be reporting to sink in. “Should you deem it possible, return Priestess Portocalis to here in Thalia, both country and capital. However, that is secondary to keeping track of her. Additional forces will be moved once you have ascertained her location, course, and entourage. Should you meet up with Lieutenant Daulfern, discern if she can be trusted. An inter legion trial has been authorized for you to carry out in this instance alone. But, meeting up with the Lieutenant is also secondary to keeping tabs upon the Priestess. All else is secondary. You have been given a dozen messenger pigeons for the purpose of keeping the Grand Warlords informed. Choose such men and women that you trust and depart no later than tomorrow. Tell no one else your mission. Be as discrete and as swift as possible in completing your mission. Questions?”

Through it all, she never looked at Seta. Her grey eyes were foggy veils that revealed not a hint to the thoughts that doubtless rolled behind them. Though, they certainly did not seem unfocused. But they seemed to look beyond where she stood. Or were they simply upon the artwork in front of them. Or, perhaps, it was all a ruse and the Lordess Commander had just learned how to appear wholly set with her eyes and dedicate her mind to her ears to listen and her words to command.
 

TheMidnightSin

The Guilty Crown
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“It’s nice to see a Brigadier who forgoes proper protocols and simply announce himself by mere footfalls instead of declaring himself before the guard and myself. All the while, deciding that my rank is of little worth and does not need mention.” Her admonishment not lost on Seta, yet the young Brigadier pursued, almost in a goading way, to show an insolence that was just as foreboding and his presence just as chilling as her own.

"No need to stand on pleasantries and etiquettes when there's work to be done," Seta would say. "But, if it pleases you my Lady Commander," Seta's hand gripped the scabbard of his sword, rolling it inwards towards his palm before his thumb pressed against the rounded handguard before he unsheathed his weapon, its blade so fine it sliced the air itself causing a small 'crack' akin to the snap of a whip or the resounding noise of a thunderclap.

This immediately would alert the guards. But, as they stood ready, he turned the blade inward, holding the curved back side of the beguiling weapon of extraordinary sharpness. He pressed the angled tip to where the V-shape neckline was parted bearing his chest slightly. He held the blade perfectly still at an angle to which she could easily, with one hand, thrust the length of the blade through him. "You may have this worthless thing one such as yourself might consider a life. The loss of one Brigadier shouldn't be anything to a Lord Commander when there so many to choose from." Seta declared with confidence and assuredness. "How does the saying go?" Seta questioned. "Separate the chaff from the wheat as it were?" Seta's eyes were deadlocked upon Amelia's face. He was serious; to him, there was no greater honor than to die for one's Lord.

There was a pause, a stifling, nerve-wracking suspension."No? Not worth the effort?" When she didn't act on it, he retracted the blade, twirled it with a flick of his wrist and drew it across the top of the sheathing before putting the weapon away and tucking the scabbard back down in between the sash that wrapped around him and his hip.

In truth, he knew the Lady Commander didn't like men who were weak-willed and with little resolve to show for themselves. He understood this and it was why he was being so brazen and daring to one such as her. He took pride in reading people; how they acted, how they spoke. The simplest things gave away the biggest ques.

“However, your boldness aside, Brigadier Seta Soichiro, I have a task for you in that your claim may be tested.” Amelia then resumed telling Seta.

"And what thy bidding, my Master?" Seta inquired.

“Priestess Reina Portocalis is missing and must be returned to her homeland, alive and as soon as possible. She is assumed to be fleeing south and into Eshil and is, likely, not alone. Unaccounted for is one Lieutenant Ludivine Daulfern, last known to be on the trail of the priestess. Your mission is thus, track and find the priestess then report everything about her and her entourage to the Grand Warlords.” Amelia stated, her eyes fixated elsewhere; not on him or the painting. She was playing a mental game of chess trying to checkmate an opponent as quickly as she could.

Ludivine...Ludivine, where had he heard that name? It wasn't as noteworthy as the rest of the information but he swore he knew that name from somewhere. Then it occurred to him, a bard had been singing a song about a woman and the bond she shared with her wyvern--her name was Ludivine.

Next came the pieces of the metaphorical puzzle; Eschil was a few days away at least, even on horseback and forced marching. They'd be gone from their current position by then. He calculatingly with a muted voice plotted a route for which they might seek refuge; villages, towns, gated communities. They were all considered; evaluated for their worth and probable dependability. He narrowed it down to one of three locations but he would need more information first before he could decipher the whereabouts of this Reina was.

“Should you deem it possible, return Priestess Portocalis to here, in Thalia, both country and capital. However, that is secondary to keeping track of her. Additional forces will be moved once you have ascertained her location, course, and entourage. Should you meet up with Lieutenant Daulfern, discern if she can be trusted. An inter legion trial has been authorized for you to carry out in this instance alone. But, meeting up with the Lieutenant is also secondary to keeping tabs upon the Priestess. All else is secondary. You have been given a dozen messenger pigeons for the purpose of keeping the Grand Warlords informed. Choose such men and women that you trust and depart no later than tomorrow. Tell no one else your mission. Be as discrete and as swift as possible in completing your mission. Questions?” She asked of Seta, till not even attempting to look the way of the white-haired young Brigadier.

"Should one of my position be asking questions--or following orders?" Seta retorted. "But, since you did invite me to ask--why me? of the 21 legions, yours being an exception as you are guarding the capital of Thalia--that still leaves 20 other legions to choose from, Brigadier or otherwise. Why did you choose me?" Seta questioned, the tenor in his voice more sobering and to the point than before. "You ought to have heard my reputation, no, I know you've heard of it. I am a butcher of men, a wolf in sheep's clothing who fancies himself a human being. I've dealt primarily with bandits and outlaws and dealt swift death to those who would dare betray Stanislav." Seta stated plainly. "I hardly seem to have the skills necessary to track this priestess down."

Then, without allowing her to answer, he continued knowing she would simply brush the matter off like dust on her pauldron. "But if the Grand Warlords want me to find her, who am I to say no?" He questioned rhetorically. "I, a lowly subject to the greater order of things. I am but a weapon to be brandished By your Ladyship and the Grandwarlords." Yes, he knew his place. He knew it well.

"Since I am to bring an entourage, I should think that there would be combat involved if things go awry." He pointed out. She wasn't telling him something, she was hiding it. Why would he need to marshal his forces for a reconnaissance mission?

Was there someone with Reina that should not be taken lightly? A part of him relished the thought of such an opponent. But, she did tell him to be discreet as well, meaning that she'd prefer he not fight he didn't have to. But that begged the question of why not take her by force? Reina was probably, no, most likely surrounded by a menagerie of warriors. Battle-tested foes whose skills he hadn't yet had the pleasure of testing. A subtle tug at one corner of his lips. This might be fun after all. It sure beat killing petty bandits and thieves.

"If she is heading south, then I must act swiftly," Seta said."For she will have surely already be leaving where she's hiding at not if she hasn't already." The brigadier then turned on his heel and marched towards the pair of large wooden doors. He then stopped, turning his head to the side. "There are eight deserters I caught with brigands in the hills that fled the chaos of the upheaval; they've been flogged; one's thumbs were cut off when he tried to stab me with a spear--I leave them in your care, my Ladyship." He pivoted, made a slight bow then turned back around to open the doors.

Once outside the doors he looked around at the sneering guards and smirked as he sauntered onwards. So that was Amelia Tersch...

Verran Verran Jessica2477 Jessica2477
 

Falcon

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23rd day of Zoi - 8 Days after the fall of Thalia.
Eshil, Abelsol Marketplace


It always seemed strange to Denzin, how most people that paid him to read their fortune did not even believe in the cards that he played. Only just now a skeptical young man stood up from the small table he had set up on the Ablesol marketplace. The fortune-teller let out a defeated sigh, he was more than merely sick of all the skepticism he received day in and day out. Being called a liar and spat at had basically become part of his profession at this point.

Denzin picked up the cards from the table, shuffling them back into a small stack. He was sick of it and was just about to end his day, pack his things and leave. However something held him back, he felt as if he should not leave. He put his feet up onto the table he sat at and pushed the chair he was sitting in a little back, so that it was only standing on the two back legs. He looked at the deck he held in his hand, this deck that had controlled his life ever since he became a believer. He pulled a card from the top of it, the card he drew depicted an eyeball with a red iris looking at him, on the bottom it read "II - The Eye".

"Watching..." Denzin thought aloud. "Watching me? Who would be?... Or maybe, I am the watcher?" The man started staring holes into the sky. He couldn't make sense of it, but eventually returned to a normal sitting position and let his gaze drift from person to person on the Ablesol marketplace. His eyes eventually stopped at a blonde girl. Something allured him about her.

"Hello! Little one, come to me, will you? You appear... interesting." The fortune-teller waved the girl over, trying to get her attention.

It didn't take nearly as long as anyone first expected to get the supplies they needed. After Checking in with Jebei at the stables they took the closest path to the market and found themselves coming into the area where most of the shops dabbling in travel supplies were located. Things also didn't cost nearly as much as Reina had first feared.

As they finished picking up the last of the things on their List Reina's ears picked up a voice calling out to her. At least she thought it was her. Looking over she spotted what appeared to be a young man waving from a fortune tellers booth. She hesitated for a moment, and then met his eyes, pointed to her own chest, and tilted her head in a questioning manner. She wasn't going to shout back, but the gesture was clearly meant to ask if he was indeed calling to her.

As Denzin saw the girl motioning back he stopped calling out to her, instead he nodded with a smile and only made a slight motion with his hands, waving her over one more time. He kept his eyes locked with hers, even over the distance between them, trying his very best to read as much from them as he could. Still with a sly smile on his lips he sat back down picked up his cards and began shuffling them, just waiting for the young girl to approach.

"I'm going to see what he wants," Reina whispered discreetly to Gavril "If Ahni can contact Jebai in a dream maybe she sent the fortune teller a message for us." For any nonbeliever in the church it was a naive notion, but Reina had seen Ahni herself in the flesh. And besides, such messenger magics were said to exist... at least in legend. Managing a soft smile the young woman made her way over. "You had something you wanted to tell me, Sir?" Her every movement bore with it the air of someone nobly trained, even if her clothing said she was no more than a merchant's daughter.

The smile on the face of the fortune teller grew wider and wider as the girl approached. It was a rather rare occasion that his cards pointed out someone like that to him, but when it happened the reading turned out to be rather exciting.


"It was not me who wanted to tell you something, it was these ones here." Denzin motions to his deck. Smiling even brighter and motioning for the young girl to sit down. Denzin spread the cards out on the table in front of him in a straight line, all face down. "Have you ever, heard of the Golden Thread, young one?" the fortune-teller smiled at the girl, not breaking eye contact.

"I - Have heard of it to some degree, but never yet met any who practiced it..." Reina admitted forgetting once more to alter her Thalian accent. "It's origins are from something other than the church are they not?"

"I remember a time when many church communities called us filthy liars." Denzin said, not dropping his smile at all.

"Let me explain then. It's said that these cards in front of you are tied directly to the strings of fate." As he spoke he turned the cards over in one fluid motion, showing the drawings of the cards to the young woman in front of him.

"Each card has it's own meaning and can be interpreted independently, however they have to work together in unison to show a person where one of the strings of fate attached to them may lead, if they just choose to follow it." Denzin explained his passion patiently, half way through his sentence even slipping into a somewhat Thalian dialect himself, for someone from Thalia it was not to hard to tell that the dialect wasn't natural, yet it still added a bit more color to his rather soothing low voice.

Reina watched him as he explained. He seemed like an ordinary young man, maybe a few years older than her. For a moment there was something off about his smile, but she chalked it up to the possibility that she had accidentally insulted him.

"I meant no offence," she started when she was sure it would not be an interruption to his explanation. "Did you wave me over because you thought the cards had something to show me?"

Of course he could just be choosing people at random hoping to earn attention and patronage, but Reina would not be so rude as to say so. It must be hard to make a living with something he believed in so obviously, when the rest of the world probably thought it was just a game. She would not begrudge a man honest work, however strange that work may seem to her.

"Oh, do not worry, there is no reason for you to apologize. I take that you asking of the relation to the church you are a faithful follower. That is good, holding on to your own believes." With another extremely fluid motion Denzin picked up the cards from the table again. He started shuffling the deck once more, doing one card trick after another as he did.

"It was the cards that told me to watch. It was me that saw something interessting in you, yet, as of now I cannot see what it is. However, I hope to enlighten myself. Have you ever tried divination magic? Would you like to?" He gave her another wide smile.

"Of course, I have to ask something in return. But since I was the one who called you here, I only want you to answer me a question, just the one, what is you name? Just the first is enough." Denzin finished as soon as he spread the cards out on the table once more, this time, again, face down.

"For the time being you may call me Rachel," Reina answered, here eyes momentarily flicking over her shoulder towards those who were watching her. She had probably annoyed them enough even coming over to talk to this man. No need to draw their ire further by deviating from the story.

"Rachel, yes? A nice name" Denzin leaned a little closer over the table, his smile disappeared, however his friendly look did not, it just looked weirdly incomplete.

"Since this is your first time, let me talk you through this. Outstretch your hand, palm down. Think about your current situation, where you are right now, and why you think you are there. You do not have to tell me. Then let your hand hover over each card, take as much time as you like, feel for their energy, try to hear their call, and the three you feel the strongest connection to, you pick. Easy is it not?" Denzin asked, now with a wide grin back on his lips.

Reina did as she was told, focusing hard on everything that had happened, everything she knew, everything she had lost, and her uncertainty for the future. Her hand hovered over the cards as she tried her best to to figure out what he meant by hearing the card's call. Eventually she moved to pull a card from the face down line he had placed before her. The fire was two in from the right. The second from almost dead center. The third took a little more time but eventually she chose one five in from the right side again.

Denzin slowly flips the chosen cards face up from left to right. The left card depicted a a shore, the clouds above dark, lightning crashes into the sea, and in the background a family home on a cliff, burning to ashes, on the bottom of the card it read "XV - The Storm". In the center there is a card depicting a shadowy man in front of a crossroads, one path leading into a dark forest and the other into an open field, on the bottom it read "X - The Paths of Destiny". And on the right of Denzin there is a card that simply depicts a heart and from behind it shines bright light, and on the bottom it read "V - The Heart".

For the first time Denzin averted his gaze from the girl and studied the cards. He knew exactly what they meant, yet he needed a few seconds to collect his words. When he looked back up he had a serious look on his face instead of the otherwise cheerful smile.

"Allow me to speak frankly." He began. "This is not at all what I had expected, and if you feel that I am intruding your privacy to an uncomfortable degree, I ask you to stop me at any given point." Denzin took a deep breath, locking eyes with the girl once again.

"You are undoubtedly full of youth, even if you look much younger than you appear to be, you still seem to have the beauty that comes along with your youth. Yet in your eyes I could see something that I can only usually see in the eyes of men and women, who have amassed so much gold that even the most exotic of pleasures seem colorless and mundane, it's an abject misery of that who has either lost too much, or who has lost their joy. At first glance I would hazard to say the former would apply to you, as you are not dressed like one of royal or rich blood, but the way you move is unmistakably regal." A small grin reappeared on Denzin's lips.

Reina watched with interest until he began to speak. Carefully trying to school her features as what he said hit far too close to the truth for comfort. Yet she said nothing. Choosing to hear out the entirety of what he read from the cards before making any judgments.

"The the second card in the middle. The Paths of Destiny, one of my favorite cards actually, there is an old saying where I come from: 'Brave ones, and foolish ones, neither walk the middle road. Yet never mistake bravery for good intent and foolishness for malice.' You will have to face tough decisions in your future. Think cautiously about your actions, you may come to regret them. Maybe you like trusting others? A beautiful trait to have, I think, honesty is important, is it not? But maybe you should not trust anyone you come across. Whatch your step, is what this card spells and that you should for you have a great responsibility resting upon your shoulders." Denzin turned his head toward the last card, the one on his right. The Heart. He looked back at the young woman, not with the serious expression from before, but with a wide spread grin.

"And according to this, if you do choose the right way and do not stray from your path, then the next card lined up for you is The Heart. Joy, happiness, friendship... and of course love. These are all in your future should you choose the possible path I showed you." He held up his index finger, like a father scolding a child.

"Do keep in mind, dear young one, that this is one possible way. This is the path you are currently on, however, it is easy to stray from a path, do not become over confident." Denzin cocked his head to the side, with newly gained wonder.

"I will now break formal etiquette, for it is rude to ask a ladies age, but, tell me, when where you born?"

Reina's eyes widened with each new revelation from the cards. It was as if somehow this fortuneteller was reaching inside her mind and pulling out what she wanted most to know. "Stay the course" seemed to be was she was hearing from this reading, even though this young man could have no idea who she truly was, or the path she was headed down. Still it was going to be a long, hard road.

"My b-birthday?" Reina's voice shook slightly as she spoke. Still, she supposed it couldn't hurt to tell him that much truthfully. She doubted the date of her birth was common knowledge. "I was born the 29th of Zoi. I'll turn 20 six days from now...."

"See..." Denzin began to explain, now leaning back in his chair. "Everyone, according to the Golden Thread possesses a Personality- and a Soulcard. For example, I was born on the 4th day of Mea and my Personality card is therefore XV - The Storm, a card you are familiar with at this point. My Soulcard then is VI - The Mirror, but I digress. Your Personality card is called XVII - The Cavern of Remembrance, your Soulcard then is VIII - The Tome." Denzin reached into an inner pocket of his coat and pulled out two more cards, which he set on the table, unsurprisingly the cards he had just named.

"The Cavern of Remembrance, it stands for a dark road with a good end. This is getting more and more exciting! Even your Personality card plays into this reading! You are on a path, one that will not be pretty, you may want to turn away from it at times, yet doing so would be a grave mistake! And your Soulcard shows that you know this. The Tome speaks of knowledge and leadership, reliability. Whatever the journey you are on, an easy one it will certainly not be. In fact I believe you will take the long road to your destination, one that is lined with blood and snow. A saying from my home." Denzin's smile grew bigger and bigger as the excitement about this entire situation bubbled within him.-

Reina's eyes grew wider and wider with each new bit of knowledge the fortuneteller fed her. How could it be that he was so close to the truth and yet should know so little. Had they met before? And yet one look at his face and Reina knew they had not. "Are you sure this magic of yours is not divine?" She asked. Missing entirely the fiasco that was going on behind her as a Blue haired young man chased after a thief. Neither did she see the wandering Pegasus, or the way her guard no doubt began to draw closer as they realized how thin and spread out the market guard was slowly becoming.

"Oh, I am most certain that my cards are of magical nature and I am convinced that they do not tell lies, like many would have you believe. Perhaps they are of divine nature, perhaps that is why some churches do not condone our presence at all." Denzin leaned in closer, maybe a bit too close considering that the two had not even been properly introduced, and put a hand on the girl's shoulder. "Tell me young one, are you travelling, or do you live here?"

"Well I--"
But before Reina could answer a sound over her shoulder drew her eye. She looked and she saw a very familiar blue hair face as a young man was helped to his feet by an older, blonde woman who Reina felt she should also know.

"Apollo!" She gasped aloud in shock. But there was no time to wave him over. Indeed almost as soon as She had practically yelled the name then bandits began pouring into the market around them from various points of entry.

"There she is!" one shouted. "The young blond girl! grab her!"

For a moment Reina thought her disguise must have been recognized before she realized there was another woman in the vicinity who fit the description. It was her to whom the leader seemed to be pointing. Unfortunately in the chaos not all of his men were paying attention. One grabbed a local girl who also fit the bill, and several others focused on Reina.

"Which one?" A Mercenary shouted to the boss.

"Doesn't matter," his archer companion answered. "Grab them all see who we can ransom later."

Reina glanced fearfully at the fortune teller trying to see if he'd been in on this whole fiasco, before realizing that a few more men had come out of the doorways of several shops, clearly intending to bar any escape routes. Even if they were after someone else Reina herself was about to be swept up in what seemed like a mass kidnapping and that would spell disaster. As things stood it seemed like they were facing two to one odds, and that was assuming that Apollo, the other blond girl, the older woman, and the man who looked like their guard were all willing to fight in addition to those with Reina.

"I see that you have quite a following my dear. How about you stay close to my side. I shall do my best to keep you out of arms way, also I was told my fur is quite enjoyable. You will have to explain to me later, however, now, you may assume me as a faithful companion, like a dog. You want me to attack? Say the word." Denzin smiled at her one more time, before opening up his cloak and slinging it around the young girls shoulders.

It looked like everyone currently in the market place was in a tricky situation from the woman helping up Apollo, to Veran trying to protect Martha, to those watching out for Reina, to the young man shopping near by with his axe at his side.