Kalemn grimaced as they were led into the underground base of the Ranger's. She, more than any of the others save Kouri, was trapped in the belly of the beast. The King's Rangers were the closest thing to organized law the Renaltan Remnants had, sporadic though it was. Were it not for their need to remain hidden from the Gods, Kalemn had little doubt that many of those she called friend or family would have long since been found hanging from oaken branches.
Now, in this glorified cave, the would-be princess was not the only one in danger of her identity being discovered.
After Kouri and the Captain exchanged their fair share of disapproval, Kalemn sidled over to the extravagant Moriarty. "Kalemn," she began, offering her hand to shake. Then, with a quick jerk of her chin towards Marcus, continued. "This isn't the first blue-haired damsel he's brought in? Care to share about the last one?"
The magician grins as he grasps Kalemn's hand and shakes it rapidly. "James, but, you've already heard that." Over her shoulder, she hears his voice, though he remained right in front of her."I never saw it myself. The previous illusion expert figured it out and ruined her disguise, but, as I said, the old bastard is dead, so here I am." He glances at Kouri and raises his eyebrows. His voice comes over her other shoulder as a whisper. "If she is a con artist, she's really good at it... There is no magic involved, or I would have felt it by now."
"Only the magic of a dyers recently filled purse," She whispered back dryly. Kalemn scratched at the scar tissue by her nose for a few seconds before continuing. "How does one become a part of a secret, god forsaken group anyway?"
"They choose you." James replies as he glances around the room, with one eyebrow raised. "You really think paranoid people hold open recruiting drives?"
"No, but I also don't think of them as the type to bring in someone who makes a living off of lies and tricks," Kalemn answered, grinning. "Not to be taken the wrong way, mind you. I'm no holy paragon myself."
"Ha!" James taps his foot, and a couple wisps of dust float up between them, forming small figures. They looked like King's Rangers. "They spend their time in the shadows. I have nothing to gain by betraying them, and they find ways of compensating me that I... Can uniquely appreciate."
Kalemn laughs and kicks away the dusty figures. "To unique appreciation, then."
Tahlia Wether and Dean Hansen A collab between @Holmishire and @Orion.
Riding lazily on Faolan's back, Tahlia surveyed the procession warily. With such a wide assortment, it was natural to assume that there might be a bad apple in their midst—despite her growing trust for the woman who supposedly lead them to her trial and likely grave. Faolan, for his part, was on high alert, ears pricked up and sniffing the air wafting over the hills.
They trudged along close to the others, but uncertain whether or not to intermingle with the decidedly Renaltan crowd.
Dean walked along down the path, indulging Mikan as she made her rounds and keeping his eyes on her (for both business and his own pleasure) while she moved on to others. As he looked around at the group once again he couldn't help but being drawn off to the horizon. In his daze he didn't notice the Direwolf approach from his other side. He jumped suddenly in apparent fright, no doubt to the delight on whoever was riding a top the creature. "Uh... hello up there."
Faolan swerved away with just as much surprise at the boy's sudden movement, but upon appraising him, sidled back with a gentle tread. Tahlia smiled down at the lad, patting Faolan's fur reassuringly. "Nothing to fear here. He has no reason to harm you."
Dean managed to reign himself in slightly as it seemed the wolf was as frightened as he was. He found himself laughing at himself "He's a Direwolf. They rarely, if ever, need a reason to harm people. How in the hell did you manage to tame a Direwolf anyway?" He asked incredulously.
Faolan's ear perked up, seemingly to pick up on his partner's response. Tahlia fidgeted nervously. "It's... complicated. Suffice to say, he's more than he appears."
Faolan snorted in distaste, displeased with her non-answer. Taking the hint, Tahlia turned back to face the boy, her gaze now intent as it bore into him.
"Tell me, boy, what is Renalta's take on unorthodox creatures?"
Dean chuckled slightly as the woman answered. "Seems straight answers and easy explanations are in short supply around here. I'll take you at your word however." He could feel her gaze upon him, and it put him slightly on edge. The question was strange to say the least. What ground did he have to speak for anyone, let alone the collective of the Renaltan lands. "Wellll... Boy is grating on my nerves, my name is Dean. As for unorthodox creatures? I don't know there are any. If they raise any kind of trouble though? I kill them if it pays well enough. Simple fact."
"Sorry, Dean, I didn't mean to offend you." She slid off her companion's back, without the direwolf even needing to break stride. Approaching the young man, she held out a hand tentatively. "I am Tahlia, and he, Faolan. They've tried to take him from me so many times. Trust has rarely been rewarded for us."
"No offense taken." He said grabbing her hand and shaking happily. "Aye. A creature that size would make anyone nervous." He looked Faolan in the eye, trying his best to look imposing "A magnificent creature like this breeds paranoia whether it intends to or not... I don't envy you keeping him safe Tahlia."
"If anything, I'm the one that keeps getting us into danger. He's the smart one." Faolan winked at Dean knowingly, before licking his chops. "Though you wouldn't know it by looking at him. So," she added, furrowing her brow. "You're a hunter of great beasts?"
Dean would look somewhat confused as Faolan winked at him. He'd never seen a Direwolf do something like that, though he couldn't recall having met a tamed one either. There was something different about this wolf, that much was apparent, but Dean didn't know what. His attention was once again drawn by Tahlia and her questioning. How had she come to know his as a hunter? Surely he hadn't become a topic of discussion so soon? No, he decided she must have simply overheard one of his previous conversations. Keeping up with the woman an easy going look overtook his face. "I don't know if I'd say I've hunted anything necessarily great, but yes I'm a hunter of beasts, monsters and other such creatures, why? Got a monster that needs slayin'?" He asked in a teasing kind of tone.
"Oh, heavens, no! Honestly, I was... This sounds foolish now that it's coming out my mouth, but I thought maybe if you knew how to kill a wolf, maybe you'd have some tricks to keep a wolf from getting killed." She leaned in closer to Dean, continuing in a bare mutter. "He's a little rustier than most."
"Oh." Dean spoke now reflecting upon the beasts he actually had slain. He compared the creatures now to Faolan, yet none seemed as fearsome as the direwolf did before him now. He tried to lace his voice with as much sarcasm as possible. "I would say if he could somehow become much less huge, that might help... Losing the sharp teeth and claws might help too?" He threw his arms up in the air in resignation. "At the end of the day he's a giant wolf, make sure he doesn't eat any children and keep him away from furriers."
Faolan snorted in derision at the mention of losing his natural weapons. Tahlia glanced at him momentarily, but it was too brief for an outside observer to make sense of what sort of communication there might have been between them.
She hesitated, as if about to say something but thinking better of it. "That shouldn't be too big an issue." She glanced around at the medley of people around them, before looking back to Dean intently. "I don't know what we're getting ourselves into here, chasing after this legend. But you seem an honest enough kid, Dean—if things go sour, I'll keep an eye out for you."
"Consider my fingers crossed for you both then." He continued to walk in silence, eyes closed, pacing along the trail beside the woman and her wolf. As she continued speaking Dean felt an uneasiness in himself at her tone and her words. She seemed to be regarding him as if he were a child... certainly he may have outed his profession, but not his age? A panic rushed over him as he worried he looked even younger than he currently felt, hoping she simply assumed him younger than she was, and not actually a child. He hopefully managed to convincingly sell a relaxed look as he peeked over toward the pair once again. "I'm no mere kid, but I appreciate the back up... You can expect the same from me."
"I don't doubt you skill. And that's a fine blade," she added, somewhat teasingly, while designating the run-down scabbard. "The girl seems fair enough, but those rangers are... There's not much to like about that devilspawn."
"Fine steel is fine steel, regardless of how fancy the leather that holds it is." He replied with a shrug, seemingly unphased by that particular brand of teasing. Dean eyed the aforementioned Rangers with his own suspicion. One a tiefling the other a monster decked entirely in plate mail. "Usually you'd be hard pressed to find someone that disagreed with you there, but despite myself I can't help but respect him. A devilspawn who has wound up in service of a possible Princess of Legend?" Dean cracked a wide smile at the notion "Besides, some people would argue there isn't much to like about direwolves either, but I think you like this one well enough, eh?"
"I'll concede that." She still didn't trust the tiefling, but continued to be impressed by Dean's confidence and wit. "Though I'm not sure virtue by association is much of a defence. Surely there must be someone amidst our number who is out to pursue less-than-noble deeds?"
"Oh almost certainly." He had replied as if she had simply made a statement rather than posed a question. He made a small gesture around themselves. "But the real question is who? Are you post-marking suspicion on the least attractive, or on those who disagree with what you think?" Dean then held his palms opened up. "Surely only the gods could tell where everyone's loyalties lie without first asking, and to do so for us could prove fatal. You've placed some faith in me, and I in the both of you, and so long as we have each other's backs we'll deal with whatever treachery may spring forth as they come. Because that's all we can really do."
"Agreed." She glanced again at their travelling companions, smirking, before continuing with a confiding tone of voice. "Besides, I don't see anyone too ugly."
Dean chuckled slightly as she spoke, but felt his attention had wavered for too long from Mikan, and gods only knew what she was up to now. He may well soon be needed. Looking back up to Tahlia and then once again to Faolan he gave a polite nod. "It's been nice speaking with you, but I should likely catch up to my client and try to keep someone from throwing her into another lake."
Tahlia raised an eyebrow at that, but nodded politely."I'll not keep a man from his mistress." She swings onto the direwolf's back with ease, adjusting herself to get comfortable. "Faolan wishes you luck," she finishes, compounded by a sage nod from her steed.
[/hr]
Baldrik stood close by the Princess with his 'walking stick' in his right hand, still scrubbing it up a bit as he tried to think in a bit more about how princess Kouri- or the rest of the gang, could possibly escape the hideout of the King's Rangers incase something nasty did break out. He wouldn't want anyone to die on his watch that were friendly, that is.
Dean paced slowly across the room with his hands held behind his back. Of the possible dangers around them, it was the waiting that he feared the most. Whatever test it was, was proving tedious to set up to say the least. He spotted the one he had come to call simply the Fanatic, but felt that that name would become slightly less endearing the longer they traveled together. Not one to start on a pour leg, Dean approached the weary-looking traveler from the side and spoke quietly enough not to draw much attention. "You seem more nervous than the 'Princess' I feel that doesn't bode well for what's to come."
Baldrik looked over towards the figure that was whispering into his ear, not swiftly or too slowly: just enough to be considered normal, and looked him up and down. He nodded slightly to him, and whispered back to him "Aye, that I am. But I'm not nervous over her failing the test, as I am fully aware that she's the one and only princess Kouri herself, it's just that... Even if she does trust these King's Rangers, I am still a bit concerned about them. I mean- what if once we enter, the game changes completely?" Baldrik looked directly up to the man. He had to keep his guards up at all cost, atleast as of the moment, as he wouldn't necessarily call this place too safe with the emotions that were tossed around.
Dean bit his lip and nodded in a knowing way. "Games change all the time. The entire world changed for me just this very morning." He paused a moment to chuckle, it had really only been a couple hours. "... But it's best to roll with the punches I suppose." As the man once again admitted his full support to Kouri, Dean was left with a bit of strange look on his face. "And how exactly can you be so sure in her? Because I, like others here, might call that blind faith."
Baldrik gave Dean a quick look of disapproval. before sighing deeply. He had heard this one before, in all honesty: Whenever he had been staying at an inn, and he casually mentioned that he was looking for a very old friend of his in the extreme areas of the worlds, he was simply told to go off from the journey. But that wasn't Baldrik's nature, he wasn't the type to throw in the towel and go home. He was going to stay by Kouri's side for as long as she needed it. And right now, he had to tell this man exactly how he thought about his comment.
"Here's the thing. My ancestors protected Kouri with their lives, and once she was safe, vowed to ensure that the day she returned from a frozen lake, she'd have the next of kin aiding her, and I intend to keep that promise. She arose from a frozen lake, the King's Ranger announced it proudly, and she's exactly like what my family described her to me."
At first he was a bit taken aback by what he assumed was hostility, but he decided to push it aside for the moment "Ah, well excuse me my ignorance, but you don't seem to be from around here. You must have had quite a journey?"
Baldrik eased up a bit. Had he sounded hostile..? He could atleast tell that the man wasn't expecting such a fierce response, although Baldrik himself wouldn't be all too surprised if he did sound a bit aggressive in tone, given the amount of times he had been asked this very question. He decided to calm down, and answer this fellow's question "Aye. I come from across the seas, lands rather far from here. Winter's cold enough to turn Trees into Crystalized Trees up there. I think it's been a year since I was last there."
"So you have come from quite far indeed!" Dean laughed openly for a second. "I'm no stranger to a bit of inclement weather myself, you get that when you travel though, eh?" A look of wonder came over his face. "... and so all these stories of the Princess have passed so far and wide to be shared even in these foreign lands of yours?" He asked looking off towards the Princess.
"Aye, that I do."Baldrik added as he smiled a bit, Dean's open laughter lightening up his mood quite a bit. He kept his walking stick pointed up towards the sky as he addressed him once more- "Traveling does add up quite the resistance to weather... aside from the cold for me atleast."Baldrik placed a hand over his reptillian shoulder, trying to keep it warmed up. He then continued "It's been passed down from generation-to-generation, and we havn't really shared any details with the locals. But the Locals have heard some things of these lands here and there, although it's beginning to die out."
"Yes, I wasn't about to bring up... Whatever it is that is." He stated nodding to the man's scaly half. "Generation to generation y'say? For a thousand years? That's a heck of a thing."
"Well, when you can write down the things that you're taught, remembering such things tend to become quite an easy thing to do."
Dean's pride flared for a second as he thought the man was mocking his illiteracy, but he assured himself the man couldn't have known that. All the same his face went straight as he spoke. "Indulge me here in reality for a moment, as I feel you've had enough fairy tales for a lifetime. Because in reality? People lie. The same Ranger you say proudly proclaimed the coming of THIS Princess, already did the same for another who turned out to be a liar. What would you have done if you had been present then? Would you have been as quick to dive to your knees and offer allegiance? You say for a millenium your family passed legends and stories down to one another? None of them ever changed a word, exaggerated a fact, misquoted or misrepresented what happened there a thousand years ago?"
He looked the man dead in the eye for a moment, warning caution in a reply without having to speak. "I'm not saying she isn't the Princess, and for what it's worth, I hope she is. What I'm saying is all you heard are stories and you, like these Rangers you're so fearful of, have already become completely devoted to her. You don't know who she really is as a person, you know an echo of who she might have been a thousand years ago."
Baldrik listened towards the man as he began to - as Baldrik would put it, spit out aggression towards him. He listened in as he claimed his Ancestors had been liars, that the Ranger that had announced Kouri's arrival could very well be wrong, and specifically the one thing that caused his vision to be filled with red was the claim that they were fairy tales. His Ancestors had given up their lives for Kouri, and now this man thought that he could very well just throw away their achievements as if it was like throwing mud onto a slab of rock- as if it didn't make a single difference. Baldrik prayed that he had brought the original manuscript from those days with him, but he knew they were still at home with his parents, as he said he'd come back for them after two years if nothing had come up to start a family, and then he'd receive it. As of the moment, he wanted to shout back at the man, punch him, or even point his stick down at the man's feet and fire off to try and get this aching sensation out of his head: but Baldrik calmed himself down quickly from the man, and stared him straight in his eyes.
"You act like you've come to talk civilized of my decisions, and yet you just tossed away what my ancestors did?! Claiming the written facts that were brought down to all of us and written exactly as they were are just fake? The Man of King's Rangers tossing away his life for a fake bloodline? I do not want to hear any more evil from your mouth. Be gone, and let Kouri prove herself to you and everyone else who refuses to see the truth infront of them."Baldrik quickly turned his attention away from Dean, having nothing more just to say to him, as Baldrik was both filled with rage and sorrow against Dean. How could a man that had never met him or his ancestors just discredit them like that..? Baldrik could only guess as he tried to throw Dean out of his mind to calm down quicker.
"Your ancestors a millenium ago may well have been the Rangers you now boast of, and for all I know every word written is true, but I haven't gotten it here with me now do I, and it puts us back in the same position of 'what I say ' versus 'what you say' I'm saying no one's memory is infallible and nothing lasts a thousand years yet remains entirely the same. I don't know your damn family or the righteous fucking zeal with which you write your fucking books, but I know that people do what they can to get ahead. You might have heard me say I hope she is who you hope her to be, because what then? You pack up and hope you find her the next time. That might be the saddest reason to go through life, and it's because of what fucking name you were born with."
He looked at the man then, ignored the stranger looking parts on his right, and saw a boy very much his counterpart. Just a kid like he was, but so very different. A laughter overtook him then, but he was unsure of why. Something to do with the petty boyhood squabble he now recognized it as. Between breaths of laughter he managed to continue "A year away from home and you've found your messiah, I'd say it was almost cute how much you long to be a puppy, again, for a woman you don't even truly know..."
Baldrik starred back at Dean this time, a flame enkindled in his eyes. This time, it appears that Dean succeeded in officially pissing Baldrik off on a level that Baldrik himself couldn't control. Baldrik slowly set down his walking stick as well as his fury would let him. He took ahold of the hilt of his ancestor's sword, and tightened his grip on it so well that he temporarily lost his senses to the sword- almost as if he had been pulled to another dimension for a fraction of a second. "That is quite enough! I could've easily shot you down whilst you were speaking before, and yet I chose not to. And now you dare to speak ill of my family name once more?!" Baldrik could've sworn that he was going to quickly swipe the sword over towards the man's head... and yet, he somehow restrained himself. He felt something pulling him down as he tried to unsheathe the sword, the sword wasn't willing to attack the man just like that.
"... If I'm wrong, then I'll very well kill myself right here where I stand..."Baldrik took a direct look at the man, but dared not to stare directly at him- as he felt tears well up from within. This fucking bastard... "... I refuse to face myself infront of my ancestors like that. And you know what, in foreign countries, all that you have left is your name. You stain that, and you might just very well be apart of the feral dogs that inhabit these lands."Baldrik Larsson decided to easen up the grip on his sword, and lowered himself back down to take ahold of his Walking Stick. He walked away from the man and the group in general, and sat himself down further away: just waiting for the test to start, so this bastard could shut the fuck up.
Dean watched as the fire was lit under this foreigner's ass and he began with threats. The showdown felt like a memory with Ryker, but now a stranger stood where he had, and he got a first person sight at how Ryker felt. The man before him was fueled by emotions, tears in his eyes, upholding the same loyalties that Dean had once shown his family so many years ago. Now he stood as Ryker stood, very much unconcerned with the man with a firm grip of his sword. He felt a familiar grin creep to his face that he quickly put to rest so to avoid angering the man further. With all the parallels between how he had acted and this man currently he expected it any moment. The telltale sign of a threat without true conviction, and then the man turned away.
He saw a vision of himself turning away in the same situation with Ryker, and he recalled with a groan how it had felt. He'd made the kid cry. No older than he was and he'd made him cry. He approached where the boy sat sullenly with gritted teeth, he rolled his eyes and gave a gentle sigh for himself. "Let's put all of that aside though. It may be relevant later, but we've something bigger to discuss now. I'm confident this girl is Kouri, if for no other reason than she's sure of herself. So that means you'll have to learn how to survive among us 'feral dogs'. First off, don't ever turn away from someone you literally just threatened to kill. The first and only time I did, I got a stiletto knife through my right shoulder for the trouble, so you're welcome."
He chuckled, lightly rubbing the spot where the knife had suddenly poked out of. "Secondly, we're supposed to be on the same side, so fair warning... you ever threaten to flash steel at me again and you best take my head off or I will force feed you the very fancy hilt of your very fancy sword starting with the blade, I feel that's fair." He groaned one last time and took a seat beside the man, more of a teasing look on his face than one of anger. "And finally, it occurs to me I don't know your first name, let alone your family's name. Hell I don't even know MY grandfather's name, so who am I to judge others on matters of lineage."
Baldrik wiped his eyes quickly as the man approached him once more. This... god damn guy. Doesn't know when to stop... Baldrik looked over towards him as he reffered to them as a feral dogs. As much as Baldrik just wanted his nagging to end, the man for one reason or another refused to do so. Baldrik was unsure what the hell the man was trying to accomplish by talking to him like this, as it only aggitated him and didn't really give him time to cool-off, let alone with the man apparently deeming his skills higher than Baldrik's. Some form of power-struggle was being held between the two, he felt it rather well.
But now that he was able to cool off, he started to think about Kouri. He couldn't let his cool flip off like that from mear taunts... Especially if he was to be apart of the Royal Guard. Baldrik realised that he might've very well learnt an important lesson by accepting the presensce of this Dean figure. Patience is something that's very important. Having learnt this, he might just very well be able to keep his cool in the future. And he only said to the man "Baldrik. Name's Baldrik."
Dean could tell by the troubled expression on Baldrik's face he wasn't quite drawn together yet, and most likely didn't want to get into it again. "Riiiight. Great then. Now I can correct people who are as ignorant as I am should the situation pop up." Dean gave him a hard smack on the shoulder with a friendly look on his face. "Lots of fun ahead. What shade of purple do you think the Commander will turn when Kouri passes the test?" He laughed as he got himself up.
Baldrik beamed up slightly due to his comment, but not as much as he had done previously. This fellow that hadn't really revealed his name to him- or Baldrik had simply forgotten- did this same trick before he suddenly barraged Baldrik with criticism for both what he and his ancestors had done. He felt a bit betrayed by the man that now suddenly patted him on the back. But... he felt atleast some form of shared brotherhood. Something that being the only-child was obviously never exposed to him. It was bitter as hell, and as of the moment he was pissed... but he atleast lightened up to him again. Of course, if he did betray him once more, he wouldn't consider forgiving him any time soon. "Heh... I'd say if he did turn to a color, he'd have to be classified as a new color!"
Dean brushed off his pants as he stood up to stretch for a moment, and smiled as charmingly as he could. "Then I suppose it'll be a good thing we have so many witnesses to tell the masses everything we see." Dean excused himself from Baldrik and went to stand with the rest of the group, noticing the test surely couldn't be held off much longer.
"Along the broken road, From Arian, my home... Beneath the em'rald green, To lands I've ne'er seen… To find a lovely girl, To fill my lonely world... By a pond so clear, With hea'en in my ear... I met a pretty thing, She sent my heart a'whurl And in that clearing ring-- Now what rhymes with whurl... Girl, twirl... Merle?" -Alexandra, Page 1.
The only sound that graced the large chamber Kouri was in was the flurry of hushed voices and whispers, and the crackling fire of the flame at the centre of the room. Cloaks and hoods seemed to reject the light of the brazier at the centre of the room, preventing its illuminating light from shining upon the faces of the King's Rangers to reveal their identities. All save the Commander, whose scarred face seemed to almost bend the light to its will, twisting it to fill or flow past the marks of trials and battles long behind the man. Kouri's face, though, seems positively bathed by the light. Her soft features presented a symmetrical and uniform appearance, unmarred by conflict and pain. The way the light danced across her eyes, filled with determination, contrasted to the sheer, unflinchingly cold wall that revealed nothing behind the Commander's eyes. The two stood on opposite sides of the brazier, staring at each other. The Commander speaks first.
"You realize that if you pass this test, you will inherit an unwinnable war." "Unwinnable to you, perhaps, but I believe it winnable." "How?" "Through methods passed down to me by my parents." "Your parents are dead and their kingdom is ashes. Are you certain you should invest your trust in their methods?" "Why have you?" "You could give up, and live a new life as someone else." "Why haven't you?" "You could turn and leave right now, instead of risking your life for a dead cause." "Why don't you answer my questions?"
The two keep staring at each other across the brazier. There was an almost visible level of tension between them, and before the Commander could respond, the sound of nearby footsteps ascending a staircase drew their attention away from one another. An elderly looking dwarf, carrying an ancient looking, magically enchanted wooden box, was approaching the group from a nearby staircase. Two King's Rangers accompanied him, each also carrying tools. One carried a small wand, though its purpose was generally unclear to the group. The other carried an extremely well decorated, sheathed longsword: Something that the nobility in the room (LiWei, Samuel) would recognize as being of a significant enough quality to be forged only for those who possessed a tier of wealth even above that which they had lived with. It was a blade made explicitly for royalty, and atop that, it held magical enchantments. Baldrick and Sisera would recognize the blade as belonging directly to Renaltan Royalty; the former through descriptions and drawings provided to him during his training, the latter from having personally seen it.
Yet, as marvellous and commanding as the blade was by its mere presence, the sheath's decorative markings held blood stains from ages long past. As well, the point at which the guard of the blade sat upon the edge of the sheath was bound with some sort of magic that kept it contained. None could unsheathe it without breaking the seal first.
There was silence for a few moments, save for the sounds of the approaching footsteps. James whistles appreciatively at the magical seal. "Nice handiwork. Mage's Guild made that for you, didn't they?" There was no response from the dwarf, as he walked up to Kouri and stood beside her. He then looked across the fires of the brazier at the Commander. "I am ready to begin."
Kouri avoided looking directly at the royal blade. Her eyes instead wandered to the box, as she kneels down to inspect it. The dwarf recoils protectively for a moment, but Kouri is still able to recognize it. "This contains a vial of my blood. Its purpose was to be a source of untainted blood, in the event I was struck with a poison or curse that afflicted me so violently as to taint my blood, so that a healer could know what to isolate to mend me." The dwarf stares in abject surprise, then looks wide eyed toward the Commander. "That... Is exactly correct, according to the documents we were able to salvage from the ruins."
The Commander didn't seem impressed as the dwarf opened the box slowly. "Maintain your composure! We've not proven anything yet." The Commander snarled at the dwarf, and though the dwarf complied as he took a couple steps back from Kouri, he seemed hesitant to obey rather than allow Kouri further access. It seemed fairly clear that the dwarf already believed her claims based on that tidbit of knowledge alone. As the dwarf finishes opening the box and pulling out a magically protected vial of blood, the princess glances toward the Commander, her blue eyes looking for compassion. "What is your name?"
"Does it matter?" The Commander retorts, as Kouri looks him squarely in the eyes. "Yes. If I am to fail this test and die by your hand, I would at least like to know your name."
There was a momentary pause from the King's Rangers preparing the test, as they looked up to the Commander, who lowered his eyes towards the fire of the brazier.
"Gregory Volsmith."
"Thank you." Kouri replies quietly, barely audible over the crackling of the fire within the brazier, as Gregory continues to stare at the fire to avert his eyes from her gaze. "Get on with it." Gregory growls in a commanding tone to the King's Rangers and the dwarf. The dwarf sets the box down upon the floor and gently takes the vial of blood out. He then reaches out and takes the wand from the King's Ranger, and those with magical talent in the room could sense the dwarf channelling his own inner talent. James grins, and comments with a wry look to his eyes. "A dwarf who is sophisticated enough to use magic?" The Dwarf grunts and retorts plainly. "How else did you think we dug our mountain homes out? Through pick axes? Really?" Kouri manages a quiet giggle, though she looked plainly nervous, it seemed she was trying to relax herself.
Nonetheless, the process continued unabated, as the dwarf set back to his task. He takes his wand and raises it, energy coursing through it as it glowed with a simple, light blue hue to it. He first points it to the vial of blood, and it glows a little brighter. "Perhaps you match in blood type, perhaps you match in blood line, but nobody has a completely identical set of blood to you, except perhaps an identical twin. Even if you were a long lost descendant, you would not match completely." The dwarf explained with a dry tone, practiced often. It seemed he had been preparing for this for a long time. "The test is quite simple, really. This wand has been attuned by my talents to glow brightly when it detects the blood of only one person: Princess Kouri. My associate here," he motions to James, who waves with a sarcastic smile plainly laden upon his face. "... Is a practiced mage of illusion talents, and will be able to detect if you manipulate this wand or myself in any way. If you do, he will simply say one word, and you will die. Do you understand?"
Kouri simply nods, not saying a word as the other mages in the room could feel her attempting to repress her magical talent. She was intentionally trying to avoid tampering with the process by accident. The dwarf nods in appreciation, and raises the wand to Kouri.
For a moment, there was no light. Kouri closes her eyes and takes a deep breath.
The room is then washed in blue light so bright, that the Dwarf ends up dropping the wand in surprise. Gregory covers his eyes, to avoid the pain of the sudden flash, as he was closest. Mikan takes a half step away from a King's Ranger she was standing behind, surprise clearly across her face. Marcus simply stares on without hesitation, as does James, though while Marcus maintained a neutral expression, James' face lit up with an almost childlike glee, followed quickly by manic laughter. Hanus looks relieved, as his shoulders dropped to a relaxed state for the first time since the group arrived.
As Gregory recovers from the flash, he turns and squints his eyes, looking at James. "Is she real or not?" He states simply as he raises a hand. King's Rangers reach for their weapons, but don't unsheathe them. James manages to reign in his manic laughter suddenly, though his grin remained. "Real. Very real. She not only didn't manipulate anything here, she suppressed her own magical talent to prevent it. If you chose to attack her now, she would be unable to levy any magic against you." Kouri turns and looks at Gregory, her hands behind her back. "Satisfied, Gregory?"
The Commander nods, simply, and lowers his hand. All around, the King's Rangers pull their hoods back and reveal themselves. They were a diverse group: Humans, elves, dwarves, even a couple of dark elves and an orc were among their ranks. Some looked more prone to using magic, others to stealth, and some were bulky enough that their skill set was hardly a mystery. The Commander salutes by putting a fist over his heart, and the others follow suit. "We are yours to command, Princess."
The only King's Ranger not to salute instead falls to one knee beside Kouri, offering her the royal blade. She takes it, tentatively, and holds it in her hands. Her eyes wander over the ancient blood stains, sorrow welling up as her political face finally fails. She brings the sheathed blade to her chest and holds it tightly for a moment. Her voice shakes a little as she speaks, as she tries to regain her composure. "I'm sorry I took so long. I'm sorry I wasn't there. I will make it up to you." Her eyes open, as she looks across the room, both to King's Rangers, and all those who followed her. "All of you." Her eyes fall onto the blood stains on the sheath, and her voice quiets to a nearly inaudible whisper. "All of you."
"Alright. Enough with the ceremonies." Gregory states as he motions King's Rangers to stand down and return to their posts. Most seem to hesitate and look upon Kouri with a sense of awe, and a few with hints of want in their eyes, though it was silenced either by their own discipline, or a glare from Marcus. "We need a plan of action." Kouri looks up at Gregory, sorrow still in her eyes, though she was managing to suppress most of it. "It is the evening already. I wish to rest for the night and act with a clear mind the following morning." Gregory hesitates, and then nods. "Ah... Right."
He looks to the group, and motions to the two nearby staircases. "Both lead down to every floor in this complex. Beyond this, you will find stone walls and floors, and torches upon the walls to light your way. We have training areas, supply rooms, a dining area, an operations room, two bathing chambers, and several empty quarters, though it would be preferred if at least some of you bunked up in groups of two, three, or even four, as each room has two bunk beds. If you need specific directions, ask any King's Ranger here, they will tell you, or even guide you there themselves. Spend your evenings as you wish—train, get some early rest, eat, check our supply rooms for equipment... Though, if you try to take more than we can afford to spare, you may find yourself waking up with a pounding headache and a new lump on your head." Mikan scoffs at the remark, and Gregory glares at her. She simply smiles sweetly, and he rolls his eyes.
Marcus motions for Kouri to follow him. "I will take you to a private room, where you may mourn peacefully." Kouri nods, and swallows back her sorrow so she can reply with a neutral tone, though her voice wavered a little. "Thank you." Marcus then glances at everyone else. "If you wish for training, I will be glad to provide it after I have guided Kouri to her quarters. We will want to know who is most fit for protecting the princess, after all. As for guards," he glances at Baldrick in particular. "We will have our best while she stays here. After that, we can discuss shift work."
Gregory glances at the group, and nods. "I will be in the operations room, preparing tomorrow's maps and plans."
Mikan glances at everyone and smiles brightly. "I think I'll take up Marcus on his offer of training. It could be fun to tangle closely with so many men around." She giggles playfully, and winks at Dean. "Impress me." Her eyes then wander to Baldrick. "You should try too. Never know what your luck might bring."
Hanus, too, looks across the group. Though he seemed tempted by Mikan's offer, he shakes his head and sighs. "I will ration out supplies for a group of twenty for a long journey. You may find me in the main supply room. I will also be retrieving equipment there, if anyone wants first dibs on potentially limited supplies."
James, meanwhile, remains silent, as his eyes follow Kouri intently. As both Marcus and Kouri leave the room, he waits for a couple minutes, and then departs himself, a thoughtful look attempting to masquerade the several mixed emotions his eyes and stilted movements showed.
Samuel Mourn de Vandestryker en Karnarvon the 4th and Kouri
Collab: Kadaeux and Brovo.
Samuel had dismissed Waral before coming into this hidden place, instead summoning the eagle Khafif, a light elemental of great loyalty. "Milady, I see you require some time alone." He bowed. "But please, take Khafif here with you for protection, just in case, and should you wish to see me, you may simply instruct Khafif to come find me."
Kouri manages a small smile, and touches the light beak of Khafif gently. "A noble sentiment, but I need not this noble bird of light."
Samuel smiles. "I would be most distressed were I not to offer some token of protection, despite their fervour, I do not entirely trust those present, though.." He paused with a wry smile, "I suppose there are those who might think the same of me, like that Ranger Commander... what was his name? Kimberly? That was it.." He said just loud enough to be sure Gregory could hear the misuse of his name, pompous ass of a man. "But if you insist my lady, I think I shall go visit the baths, for travel and riding Waral does wonders for ones personal odour..."
"A good idea." Kouri says softly. After a momentary pause, she looks up at Samuel and speaks again, her eyes seemed to show some relief from the sorrow, if only briefly. "Your concern is touching, even if I think some of it is for my status rather than who I am. Nonetheless, I look forward to travelling with you. Take that for what you will." She seemed to recognize the flirtatious game that Samuel was playing, and replied in kind with similar noble austere and word games: Not a no, but not a yes.
"I see your advanced age has not taken the edge off of your skills." He jokes with a chuckle, "But my interest is as genuine as the light of a rising sun or Khafif here," The Eagle snaps a sound that might have been 'don't bring me into this' with an expression to match, "If you are even half of the woman history believes you are, 'twould be a crime against nature to not be interested. But I shall leave you to some peace and quiet, should you desire my company, you need but ask." With that Samuel bows almost in half in deep respect before heading for the stairwells, Khafif making some remark in Eagle that Samuel, as his summoner, rolled his eyes at. "Yes yes Khafif, i'm not just thinking with my dick again." He murmurer as the eagle snorted in disbelief.
Samuel might swear he heard a muffled giggle, though if he turned to look, Kouri would already be leaving with Marcus.
Alas he didn't turn, merely allowed a wry smile to slide across his expression before turning to the nearest Ranger at the bottom of the stairs. "Tell me noble Ranger, what way to the Baths?"
"Third floor. Take a right. You will smell them before you see them, can't miss them."
"Good man." He flicked a gold coin towards the man and headed for the baths.
Tahlia and Faolan Wether @Holmishire, in the Ranger's Hall.
Tahlia slumped in relief as the evidence ratified the girl's claim. Though she had tried to banish the thought, it had occurred to her that the Rangers might not be as amenable to their safety had she failed—she had considered ditching the group upon arriving at the hidden base, but judging from the ruthlessness of the Commander, she felt confident that her instincts to stay had been well placed.
Smiling, she looked about to catch Dean's eye, but in the shuffle he was quickly lost.
Faolan, who had been watching her back this whole time, nudged up beside her. He grimaced, an oddly threatening look when it was a wolf doing it. Does this mean we're part of the club?
Tahlia frowned with concern. "I... I don't really know, yet." She sighed. "They look to be good people, Faol."
Deadly people, maybe.
"Honest people," she responded, more firmly. "Our fate will be decided tomorrow. For now, we might as well relax."
Faolan flicked his tail, pondering the coming challenges they'd face—in either case. Yes, relaxing could be fun, he replied, with a tone that implied he had something else in mind. Do as you need for now. When you are ready, meet me in training hall. His eyes expectant, she quickly unfastened his harness, slinging their shared possessions over her back.
She grinned—relaxing indeed. As he trudged along by himself, she caught some of the Rangers glancing at him. Projecting her voice to be heard over the conversation, she called out, "He won't harm anyone!" She figured they were sensible enough not to assault him unprovoked, nevertheless.
As for her, she set off to check out the supplies. Her gear was in dire need of some overhaul.[/hr]
Sisera blinked at the man's question. He was simply not used to people asking about who he was, either because he simply wasn't important enough, or in the days of his time at court, everyone already knew who he was. Sisera grasped his walking stick with both hands as he looked at the Baldrik, he didn't shake his hand, though it was more because Sisera didn't really notice or register the gesture as he just stared at the young man's face.
"I was the son of the last Steward of the Old Kingdom"He said dryly "I was to inherit the title myself. I had a... close relationship with the royal family"
It was obvious Sisera was leaving out details that told a much more poignant story. Sisera had recluse since he was boy and was difficult to read; he rarely open himself up to others, including the Princess himself. Still, his tone was friendly enough with Baldrik, if a bit eccentric.
"And what about you, young man?"Sisera asked politely, "What do you gain from following the Princess?"
"Gain?"Baldrik looked over at him, seemingly a bit stomfed at the question. Some would consider him to have taken some form of taunt at this point as he seemed quite a bit confused at him- especially after recalling what he had said. He had a close relationship with the royal family... wouldn't that make him nearly a thousand years old?! Baldrik retreated backwards a bit and held onto his lizard's side, trying to warmthen it up a bit as he noticed it began to grow progressively colder. Or was that because of his sudden feeling of fear, given the fact that he was facing someone that was frozen for as long as Kouri. Was he a god as well? The thoughts that were racing around his skull would even make the most well-reinforced scientist baffled. But he eased down his thoughts, and swallowed his pride for a bit. "I don't seek to gain anything, sir. I'm here to ensure that the next era of Freedom and Peace's guaranteed by protecting Kouri, like my ancestors before me did."
"Freedom and Peace..."Sisera mumbled to himself slowly, as if slowly processing each word as he repeated it to himself. His eyes seem glazed over, as if in a trance, thinkinglong ago when he lived in Capital with his father guiding him firmly but always with a mug of ale in his hand and always willing to crack a a joke every time Sisera failed: Whenever a spell blew up in his face, his father would make him laugh again. When the guardsmen beat him badly in a sparring match, his father would tell him tales of jovial debauchery of his own youth. When he felt those pangs of loneliness, his Father would always invite him to the table with his own company.
Yes. Sisera could see it all being interpreted as a Golden age of sorts. Perhaps it wasn't as idealized as this young man seemed to think it was; there were grumbling nobles with scheming thoughts his father had to deal with. But in the end things were fine, no, beyond fine, things were great. Especially when Kouri was still such a small child, holding Sisera's hand.
"Freedom and peace huh? Well I suppose that is something a young man like yourself can pursue. Much more adventurous than myself; I never did aspire to such things in my youth. I was too busy with my duties, I never even bothered to leave the city"He chuckled at the hidden dark humor associated with that: it took a violent arch-angel to get Sisera to leave the capital.
"Your ancestors?"Sisera said, a bit confused at what Baldrik had said. But then he shrugged and gave the young man a warm, polite smile.
"Aye, well... Perhaps at your time you didn't have the same opportunity as I did."Baldrik added, trying to make the mood a bit happier as the man seemed to be leading it on more of a bitter mood. While Baldrik had never really seen an era of peace, given that his own life as a farmer and a student of the arts of 'Royal Guarding', he had never really had a week go by without something in the sorts of violence occurring around him, be it either raiders trying to take a hold of their lands, to blocking the moves that his mother tried to wack him with, he had quite a lot of things to dodge out for. But none the less, it sure wasn't that bad either, since he had a roof over his head, a loving mother and father, food to last and got a proper education- he would really see himself off as a lucky fellow, in all honesty. Baldrik realized a bit late that Sisera had added 'Your ancestors' to the mix, in which he replied swiftly"Yes, my parents told me that my ancestors served as apart of Princess Kouri's Royal Guard, and that they along with what was remaining of the Royal Guard protected her until she was able to disappear off the face of the world. But, once the gods found out that my parents had been involved in aiding the Princess... They placed a curse on them, causing so that all males would get a reptilian skin on apart of their body, meaning that we wouldn't be able to resist to cold as well, and that we got a... lesser, life span than most other humans."While on that note, it did make Baldrik a bit sad, thinking about how much his ancestors sacrificed to keep his bloodline in line- as oppose to joining the gods to prevent any more damage to them."Well, atleast they proved their loyalty to the Princess, and I will be sure not to fail my duties as a Larsson!"
Sisera cocked his head slightly at Baldrik's answer to his "Ancestors". How odd that the Gods even let his lineage live in the first place, Typhon was not known to be sophisticated enough to lay curses down on people, often just killing them would have sufficed his child-like temper. Which was ironic considering what Typhon did to him, a memory he preferred to be buried and forgotten. This youth reminded him too much of his own punishment The seal was broken and
yet you are not free!
Sisera quickly snapped back to reality as his eyes became alert and he became aware of things around him again, people were leaving, it was time to go. He looked at Baldrik and gave him a polite nod.
"If my highness ever does rule a Kingdom again, she will need people like you: Loyalty is priceless, for it cannot be bought and it seems we have much to do."
He looked up at the sky and pondered the workings of fate. He wished he knew more about such things, his father was too practical to care about the philosophy of the metaphysical and Sisera himself in his youth was too ignorant in his youth to question such things until they had smacked him square in the face. He once again looked at Baldrik and made a gesture, it was time to leave the pond and follow their Princess.
"Think of your curse my friend as a blessing in disguise." He said quietly"For many fools pledge their loyalty and swear oaths only to run when they realize what it means; giving every piece of yourself to another. Those who have made sacrifice after sacrifice for their masters will admit it is a burden.
Sisera began to slowly roll up one of his sleeves
"Reasons for being loyal are different for everyone, some do it for status, others do it for a high cause, some to provide better livings for their families and others do it for.. more personal reasons."
He continued to roll up his sleeve well past the elbow where the skin slowly began to appear red and cracked.
"You were born with scars that come from loyalty and you will earn more. But never trust a man who swears an oath and has not suffered pain behind that oath. They still have much to prove"
On Sisera's bicep were large swirling burn marks that seem to wrap themselves around his entire arm and reach up even further behind the robe. He quickly let his sleeve drop back, covering up the marks as he turned and began to follow the group.
"... Aye. Thank you. It's good to know that there's still people out there, like you, that see the things that my ancestors did." Baldrik added upon the conversation, having felt a bit more relief with himself as he saw that the man before him clearly had good intentions for him. Although he began to wonder, how come the man spoke of such wisdom to him? It's almost as if he had gone through the same pains as his ancestors did... He shot a quick glance over towards his biceps as they were slightly uncovered, giving him a quick glance at them. He quickly nodded to him once, smiling a bit sadly at his burn marks. "Well, atleast I know that I can trust you fully, given that you've suffered for princess Kouri."
He felt a bit more at ease with himself, given now that someone had atleast understood what it's like to be in foreign country, with only your scars to prove who you are... Perhaps this wouldn't be such a bad experience, aiding the princess in her times of need. Perhaps he'd have it alright in the end. Especially with this mysterious fellow infront of him. He quickly tagged along with Sisera, trying to make sure that he kept going in time with the rest of the group.
Sisera merged himself in the mesh of the crowd, neither staying in the front or falling behind. Simply blending in with his plain robe and cap. As they tread deeper and deeper off the main road Sisera figured that either Marcus was a bandit leading them all into a trap, or a legitimate remnant of the King's Rangers. Even during his time they were known for their secrecy and elite... skills. His Father had even been wary of them (despite requesting their assistance more than once) which had resulted in Sisera always taking a cautionary approach towards such people. If a man like his Father, a man who put every noble house in their place at one point or another, would never have dared cross the King's Rangers, then they were a group worthy to be feared and appreciated if they happened to be allies.
Thankfully after the pleasantries of tense introductions were settled, the group was quickly gathered inside to witness the ceremony. Sisera saw the sword and his eyes widened in amazement.
"They actually manage to salvage that thing" He said in awe. He had seen the sword a few times during various ceremonies, it was an important relic to the royal family. His father had once told him the sword's name but for the life of him Sisera couldn't remember what it was.
He turned his head at the actual test of legitimacy, indignant that Kouri should have to suffer such a humiliation after all she had been through. His face displayed no outward emotions of anger but he gritted his teeth all the same. After it was all over he looked up at the Commander, who essentially welcomed the rest of the group to take advantage of their hospitality.
He suddenly looked about the area awkwardly, these King's Rangers were his... People right? Or at least the last remnant of what Sisera had considered "normal". And yet, it felt so foreign. Sisera swallowed hard, he didn't know what was more bitter. The fact that his home was gone, or what was left just felt like a cheap imitation, another place that he didn't belong.
Though then again, he didn't exactly "Belong" before. Other than his caretaker duties with a young Kouri and the Royal family putting up with his eccentricities with warm smiles, he never really did fit in at court. He sighed quietly to himself. Such thoughts only made him depressed, he needed some food. And perhaps a bath before heading to bed. Despite the Commander asked, he would be sleeping alone.
In the dining area, it seemed depressingly big. A big hall meant to accommodate big parties of drunken debauchery and wild boasts yet was almost empty. The thought reminded him of his father as he made a small smile in between bites. The meat was a little rough but Sisera could hardly complain: Food was food and Sisera hadn't eaten like a noble in a millennium, no use being a snob about it. Ale was good though. He never drank as much as his Father had, but he could certainly appreciate a good brew. It was cold and mixed perfectly with the hot venison. He could see other people eating too, some King's Rangers and some other members of the group, he didn't bother talking to them though. There wasn't too much to say Sisera thought; it wouldn't be til tomorrow til a plan was formulated.
After Dinner he headed to the bathing chambers, to his relief it seemed the place was largely empty. The Commander did say there were two, perhaps Sisera got lucky and picked the barren one. He removed his cap and robe, showing a plain white tunic with brown pants with a large broadsword sheathed. The burn marks scabbed and swirling around his arms and even reaching up to his thick neck, when he stripped there would be more grisly burns to see though Sisera was quick to enter the waters to cover up. His body was a very sensitive one now despite his thick frame and the waters felt soothing and pleasant to the touch. He stretched out his arms as he sunk lower and lower into the bath. With a flick of his fingers small streams of smoke twirled and dance in front of him before disappearing, serving as his entertainment while he lingered in the bath.
James Moriarty and Zhong LiWei - Poor Lighting Makes For Difficulties In Clear Writing (A Collab between @Brovo and @Soulless)
LiWei felt the need to seek and wander over sparring. Too much chances someone would sniff him out, anyways. He went looking for a certain illusionist. He asked people here and there, wandering more or less aimlessly. The chances were low he would actually run into him by such chance after not catching up to him right after the ritual, but James had to be somewhere here. And maybe someone would tell James there was a certain foreigner looking for him. Or, perhaps, James already knew and was avoiding LiWei. Still, he needed to try. And so he wandered.
As LiWei wandered, he would find many King's Rangers around, guarding and patrolling various passages now that Kouri was confirmed to be in the premises to ensure her protection. Torches lit the way, and by the time LiWei wandered his way to the third floor, it had been several minutes of wandering. He enters another hall, though this one was smaller than most of the others. Its floor was made of dirt as opposed to the stonework he saw before, and he felt something off about the entire area. The hall's lights dimmed momentarily, leaving him darkness, then returned just as quickly as they had vanished to reveal a single, black crow at the centre of the room. It looks up at him and tilts its head, cawing at him, as though expecting him to speak.
LiWei hesitated as his boots met dirt instead of stone. But this was the third level- that made no sense. The place set him on edge and he considered turning right around and taking his feet somewhere else. When the room dimmed, he was already halfway out the hall. Then the raven appeared, as if from a dream, and he muttered a small prayer that this wasn't going to bite him in the butt.
He approached the raven. "...Hello. I am looking for Mister James..."He felt like a right idiot talking to a bird as if it could understand him. He looked around for some doorway beyond the room, avoiding looking the raven in the eye. Nothing could be gained from staring at magically manifesting animals.
The crow hops a few steps down the hall, then looks back at LiWei. He then hops up into the air and flies down the hall, turning around a corner and cawing once more, as though begging LiWei onward.
LiWei muttered something again under his breath, about being mad. Then followed, footsteps quick and light in case he needed to make a rapid exit. He was acutely aware that he was alone and that set his senses on high alert for danger.
Stepping down the hall, he'd find the lights would dim once more once he reached the corner. Looking back, he would see the hall looked like any other once more: Stone floors, braziers, and so on. Around the corner, another hall, though James was sitting on an empty box, and gently petting his crow along its beak and crest. LiWei was able to discern the bird was a manifestation of magic: Not real. "You do a good job hiding your true nature away from people." James says as he turns his head only partially to look at LiWei. "A foreigner with false limbs. I know not why."
LiWei looked over, his friendly and polite smile being left for a more serious gaze. He turned, looked around- the dirt was gone. The crow was fake. The whole thing made him somewhat nervous- perhaps James himself was also an illusion here and he was talking to air like a fool. He squared his shoulders and stood with no hint of his anxiety. "You are very good at seeing, Mister James. I would appreciate your confidence in this subject. Could we talk some? Perhaps be more introducing."
"We are here now." James replies plainly, as he brushes off his robes. He motions over his crow, and it vanishes from sight. "Speak, foreigner."
LiWei, feeling awkward in standing when someone else was sitting (on some box, no less), moved to find some other thing to sit on. "I noticed you looked... like you had many things to think about, when her royal highness Kouri went to rest. I was wondering if you would like to talk them. I understand I am... a foreigner but it is often easier to work through thoughts in company. I was also thinking to ask a favor, for which I could be in debt to you. It is okay if you do not want." He smiled again, friendly. Harmless. And still wary for any more magic tricks.
James' attention is finally fully drawn to the man when he speaks of favours, having mostly been lost in his own thoughts until that point. "Oh? What would you like of this man, raised of the carnival?"He seemed to intentionally avoid answering about his thoughts.
"I assume you know how to... do some hiding methods. These bandages are very poor at hiding and I do not think I can hide for ever. Do you have some kind of magic to make look like skin?" He carefully undoes a bandage on one of his forearms, revealing a strange, complicated rune. It looks like a relatively fresh, to-the-bone carving, except the ugly scabbing expected resembles something akin to unrefined opal stone. There is a thin line of scarring just beyond the carving, closer to the wrist.
He decides it's better not to push the subject about the thoughts for now. Perhaps if he earned some trust, whatever was eating at the man would come out on its own. He gives James some time to look, the iridescent scabbing catching the light of the torches, before beginning to wrap it up again.
"Possibly." James replies as he leans back on his box. When LiWei sought a place to sit, he found another box just like it opposite the one that James was sitting on. It hadn't been there when he had initially looked down the hall. "Though you will owe me a favour... And I like to cash in on those."
LiWei tests the box with one hand before putting his full weight on it. It is only after he tests the box does he choose to sit on it. "Thank you. What kind of favor? If is the possibly is done successfully, I may not mind the debt to you." He leans in a bit, cautious. There's a tenseness in his muscles- he's alone, with some other guy, in a setting he's unsure of his surroundings, and of course there are /torches/ everywhere. He does what he can to keep his composure, regardless.
"Well." James licks his parched lips and looks up at LiWei. "What if I told you I like to cash in my favours later? On my own time, of my own accord... You'll owe me, and when the time is right, I will cash in."
"A gentleman's agreement then, if you help me with this favor, I will also help you in any favor you need later on."He stands off the box and walks to James to offer his hand. "I find it is easier than speaking in debts and owing. It is so impersonal to talk people like it is a merchant's business, I hope you understand. I would like to be friendly with you." He smiles again, something more charming and open. And perhaps naïve.
James slowly stands up from the box, taking the man's hand and shaking it firmly. "Good. Very good. Give me the night and I'll forge you some... Equipment, for your arms and legs. Don't worry about the measurements, I already know them." Behind LiWei, he can hear a familiar sounding crow on the ground cawing at him. "Beatrice is a helpful darling."
LiWei is under the impression that, perhaps he has made a mistake. But no point in going back now. He's already shaken James' hand. His own shake is relatively gentle, as if he's afraid of hurting James with too strong a grip. "Of course. You have my gratitude. Beatrice too. How did you come to have such a helpful bird? I can only hope I could be as useful to you someday. I also hope that, whatever has been bothering you about her royal highess Kouri is resolved soon. I still offer anytime to more private conversation, if it can put you at ease."
James chuckles and grins, flashing his teeth as Beatrice hops up and flies around LiWei to land on James' shoulder. "I made her myself... A good friend, she's been. One day I'll tell you more, I think, but not tonight. I should retire to my quarters." Once again he seemed to ignore any questions and commentary about his thoughts or Kouri, as he thoroughly avoided the subject. "I have work to do, after all."
LiWei's internal curiosity is piqued. He wants to know all about this James fella, who insists on straying from his questions. But he's pushed his luck tonight. He'll try again. And soon. "I am sure you do. Sweet dreams, good Mister James. Please do not work too hard for me. I am only a foreigner following fate."He steps back once, then stills, and waits for James to leave first.
As James departs, he snaps his fingers and summons into his hand a rather strange, black cane, with a crow's head topping it. Beatrice sits loyally on his shoulder, but stares at LiWei as James starts walking away, tapping his cane on the floor and humming a strange tune to himself. He utters one more sentence for LiWei. "All is not what it seems... Everyone here has their secrets. It would not surprise me if some of them threatened the princess... That is all I will say on the matter of my thoughts. Good day."
"A wise observation from a master of deceit. Good day." LiWei smiles and departs.
A Meeting of the Pointed Ears
Featuring Kasienka (Seba) and Hanus (Brovo)
Watching Kouri pass her test so well made Kaseinka's heart well with pride, but then seeing her Princess in such pain urged her to follow and care for the young woman… but given how quickly she left the room perhaps some time alone was better. Now she felt as if she was stranded on an island, surrounded by waves of people. They were not hurt so she could not heal them and they were all of age so there were few stories she could tell that would entertain them.
Duels were proposed… but Kasienka knew better than to use her walking staff against steel. Otherwise she was far more dangerous from afar, and a duel would normally be the death of her. Rather than take her odds she tilted her head to listen to Hanus's offer. While she did not require any supplies, she was quite good at caring for herself, she knew there would be those who would want to take all they could.
"Hanus, if I might, I will aid you in the rationing and doling out of supplies."
Hanus glances at the elf before him, and motions for her to accompany him in relative silence. He was going to walk to the supply room, and if she wanted to come along, she was free to do so.
She followed along, trying to predict where this supply room was. Her footsteps hardly made a sound on the floor given that was barefoot and light in her step. "Where are you from?"
"The abyss." He replies simply. "The winding, unstable passages underneath the world's surface is where my people call home." He seemed to dislike mentioning it. "And you?"
"I can't remember. Somewhere far enough from here that I can't even remember a path that would lead to it." She sighed, her steps almost faltering before she skipped to catch up. "I don't remember much of anything of my past, it's not as important as the general past, which I do know a lot of."
"Ah." Hanus replies simply as he continues walking down the flight of steps to reach the level with the supply rooms. "Good. I think... Elven memory has always confused me."
Now this caught Kasienka's attention. She reached out to touch the man's shoulder, a glimmer of a smile flickering across her face. "Elven? Not Dark Elven as well?"
"No, but we have our own problems." Hanus remarks simply, as he glances up at the ceiling, in contemplation. He didn't seem to reject her touch, but he didn't respond much to it at all, and he felt cold to the touch. "It's as if the universe keeps us all in line with ever more disturbing methods."
Despite hearing this stipulation, Kasienka couldn't help but feel hope. "Your children… are they hidden as well?" If this was the answer to her race's plight… well. It seemed too good to be true for certain, but by the heavens she was hopeful.
Hanus stops for a moment and looks at Kasienka. "My children?" He appears somewhat puzzled. "I never had any... Unless you speak of the children of my race?"
Kasienka's cheeks flushed the slightest red as she waved her hand trying to distract Hanus from the matter. "Yes, of your race. Your children are too personal a topic, should they have existed."
"Hm." Hanus grunts, and scratches his chin idly. "They're vulnerable to being killed for long periods of time. Half a human's lifetime, truly... And then there is the madness that grips us, and it takes some of them before their time." He grimaces. "It is an ugly and often short life."
Nodding slowly she couldn't help but smile and begin to descend the stairs again, happy in her decision to accompany him. "That sounds absolutely dreadful, but it mustn't happen to everyone for you are still here and seem quite sane. Where is the equipment room?"
He remains silent about the madness, though smiles at her compliment nonetheless. They stop in front of the supply room, and he motions to it. "Right here."
Kasienka turned to smile at Hanus then began to tuck loose bits of hair back into her braid. "Alright then. We should start as soon as possible, but I can't do anything until you tell me what it is I can help you with."
"Food, primarily. Perhaps medicine, if you know the trade." Hanus states simply as he opens the door, looking at her briefly, and then looking away. There was something off about his eyes. He has red irises, but they didn't look natural. "I expect others will be here soon. It's in their nature." He motions to the back of the supply room. "That is where all the non-perishable food and medicine will be kept. We will need enough for twenty people for a minimum of three weeks."
"We'll need less medicine than you think." She began to maneuver her way around crates and barrels so that she could begin fishing out stringed packets of jerky and fruit leather, counting silently. "I carry much of my own, but rarely rely on it alone to bring a creature back to health." Kasienka felt almost at ease in the crowded room, bending and stretching to handpick what she thought her group members would like most.
After a few minutes, Kasienka would find others piling into the room. At least three others, though being at the back of the room, she would only overhear them talking, not any particular words. Still, she would see Hanus equipping himself, and after a few brief conversations, walking to the back of the room where she was. He had equipped himself, at least partially: Chainmail, and distinctly magical weapons at his waist and on his back, though the magic itself surrounding them felt wrong.
"How is it coming along?"
Packs and packs of food, herbs, the first silk stitches she had seen in months... She felt something pulling at her core, but assumed it was from how long she had been spending reaching into the bottom of a crate. Hearing Hanus's voice she swung herself back onto her feet and turned to face him. She almost hissed when she saw the weapons, realizing where the pull had been coming from. "Ah... fine, sir." She peered around him then raised an eyebrow. "Which ones are those? What are they up to?"
"Oh... More members of Kouri's entourage." Hanus says with a roll of his eyes and a sigh. "They want equipment. There's nothing truly harmful to be lost here, so I'm not keeping a too close eye on them."
Kasienka nodded slowly, feeling the urge to watch them all the same. People were very good at being ridiculous when they got jealous. All the same, she wasn't quite done. She turned around to face the crate again and went to scoop out the last few scraps of herbs she had piled into a corner. "If you say so... What are those you wield, Hanus?"
Hanus grins as she asks, as he seemed to be expecting the question and was happy to answer. "The weapons my clan handed down to me. I was nobility among them, so I got some of the best equipment they could offer when I came of age... I later had these axes imbued with magic, but this blade upon my back? Has been possessed of magic beyond my own lifetime. They all have many stories." He kneels beside her and rifles through the food quickly, ensuring his own judgement of what she took. He appeared to have no complaints. "... And they have taken many lives."
When he described his weapons and judged her decisions Kasienka felt something boil in her stomach that she hadn't felt in a long time. She nodded curtly then sighed and began to pack the approved rations, trying not to make eye contact with the elf.
"You are a skilled warrior then, which is excellent for Kouri's cause. I, however… I prefer to bring them back from the edge rather than be the one who put them there. If you'd excuse me." She moved to brush past Hanus once the food and medicine was packed, trying to make her way to wherever Kouri was resting.
Hanus looks a little confused, before standing and grasping Kasienka's shoulder. "Wait! You're a healer? That is... A noble profession." It seemed like he noticed he had upset her, and was trying to make some sort of amends.
She turned to look at him again, tilting her head slightly to the side. "Then why is it that you make for work for those who practice it?" She recognized the effort, but wouldn't back down so easily.
Hanus looks taken aback and scratches the back of his head. "Ah... Because some people don't heed warnings and would rather murder your clan for their food. Or to rip out your brains from your skull. Or to..." He trails off and then looks at Kasienka's face, trying to gauge what she was feeling. "Look, I'm proud of my art, but I don't use it casually. I'm no brigand. I don't want to murder and kill pointlessly. It's why I'm not... It's why I wander these lands alone... I don't want to get into the details right now, just... I didn't want to upset someone who wants so deeply to help others."
Kasienka began to soften when she watched Hanus backtrack quicker than she thought a man of his standing ever could. She was not naïve, she knew better than to take it at face value, but she still appreciated it. "Thank you, Lord Hanus." He had mentioned his nobility, so now she would use it. Now she laid a hand on his cheek and pat it before smiling again and laughing. "Well, if nothing else you should fight well enough to keep me from having to use my profession with our group. I feel as if that's an appropriate resolution."
"That, ah, I can do." He recoiled away from her touch, though she felt his skin was cold to the touch. "Don't call me lord. I abandoned that when I left my people. Now, ah, I believe you had... Other business to attend to. I'm certain we will speak more later."
Her smile faltered a little when he visibly tried to move away from his touch, but she sighed and shrugged in the end. "Yes, Hanus. We will have at least three weeks to talk. The food and medicine are packed. It won't be hard to find me." She bowed her head to her fellow elf then again weaved through the crates and the people to seek out Kouri's room. She would not attempt to bother the lady, simply to rest in the hall outside the room. Just in case the princess wanted someone to listen.
Fantasy is my #1; I will give almost anything a chance if it has strong fantasy elements. Post apocalyptic, superhero, alternate history, science fantasy, some supernatural, romance, and a few fandoms (especially Game of Thrones) are also likely to catch my eye.
Amaia stood in her own private little bubble for a while after arriving to the hideout of the King's Rangers, leaned up against a wall and left alone by all. Perhaps it was her unpleasant facial expression that kept people away, though it was surely only a pale reflection of her inner thoughts: equal parts sulking at a lost bet, anger at her own behavior earlier, brooding over Kouri's words, and contemplating the dark meaning behind the words that the commander said and, more importantly, did not say. It was surely a dark mix, and she couldn't blame folks for avoiding her. Hell, she didn't even want to be around herself when she got like that.
Her personal field of angst remained undisturbed even through Kouri's testing. Amaia found herself surprised by how unsurprised she was at the results, at the fact that the blue-haired woman was indeed who she claimed to be. Somewhere in her mind she'd already decided the woman was telling the truth, but it wasn't until the test concluded that she fully realized it. Watching Kouri's noble facade crumble, Amaia felt a pang just like the one from earlier, when she'd wounded the princess with her words and felt like an utter shit for it. Rather than rushing forth to congratulate Kouri for her vindication, she remained where she was and thought over those simple but poignant words from the princess: "Just try to be a better person. That is all I could ask."
Be a better person, huh? Amaia pushed away from the wall and looked round the room. She took in a quick breath and let out a sigh, trying to push out all her negative thoughts with it. Can't hurt to try, I suppose. She quickly spotted someone she wanted to speak to and headed toward them with a determined stride.
~~~
Amaia and Dean - Troublemakers (A collab with @Orion)
Plain though he was, Dean managed to stick out in the crowd like a sore thumb. Amaia sidled up alongside him, nudging him in the ribs with her elbow. "I saw you harrassing the zealot earlier. Feel bad about it now that his faith was proven less than totally blind?"
A slight grunt escaped him as Amaia nudged him. He bit his lower lip as she spoke, finding it difficult to conceal what exactly had transpired between the two of them. He found he couldn't help himself. "Ahh, I feel worse about harassing him enough to bring him to the brink of tears... I may have been a bit ruthless, actually." He peered over to where Baldrik stood among the rest, and managed a friendly nod, but not without underlying guilt. "His name's Baldrik, we should cut the zealot bit now. But what of you and our newly appointed Princess? I already feel richer in that you weren't sentenced to death."
Amaia shrugged in response to the zealot bit. "I call them as I see them." She hesitated, then shook her head with a quick sigh. "Though I guess I suck at calling them sometimes, so we shall see. Your feeling of wealth is well deserved, on a related note. Kouri was.. not what I expected." She shifted her feet, still feeling guilty over what had happened. "I think I almost drove her to tears, actually, not the raging and calling me an uppity peasant and so on that I was aiming for. It was like kicking a puppy and then seeing the hurt in its eyes, cutting deep into your own soul. And then when I apologized she gave me a version of the old 'I'm not mad, I'm just disappointed' lecture that always feels worse than a shout and a slap. I don't have the heart to even try again, so I have to concede the bet to you.. though I should note that we never agreed upon any terms at the time of the bet."
Dean nodded along as Amaia explained how she felt. "Aye. Regardless of what the test proved, Kouri is nothing at all one might suspect." Her assessment of Kouri's displeasure in her nearly had him in hysterics. "I'm not sure I could take another bout of Baldrik's disappointment, he more or less threatened to shoot me, and that had sent cold chills running down my spine to when I did the same to Ryker. Needless to say I handled him more delicately than I personally had been." He found himself biting his tongue and looking at Amaia again. "Right. The bet I won. Bit late to put terms on it now isn't it?"
The tidbit about Ryker was interesting, but she stored it away for later conversation rather than pursuing it now. "Ah, sounds unfortunate. I had no threats, though I did offer to let Kouri punch me if it'd make her feel better. She didn't go for it, which wasn't a surprise after finding out she wasn't all fire and vinegar like the few noble cunts I've seen before." Amaia scratched idly at her chin as she worked to suppress a smile. "Anyway, no, you deserve something for winning the bet. What's the point of a bet if there's nothing to win from it, eh? Tell you what, we'll go by the betting rules I grew up with. No prize agreed on beforehand means anything is fair game, winner chooses his prize, loser lost so they've just got to accept whatever is chosen. So, got anything in mind, or would you like to think it over?" She couldn't help smiling now, wondering if he'd go the same route as the boys from the streets of Liveria or stick to something less indecent.
"Sounds like you had a brave childhood." It was certainly a tempting offer, whether she would uphold it was another matter entirely, but he had his suspicions that she would. "I could be terribly rotten and tell you to go swear fealty to the Renaltan bloodline, equally damaging to simply ask you to kneel to her... That'd be a sight... But no, leave me to mull it over for a little while, I'd hate to waste stakes like these for no gain at all." He found himself wondering if Amaia would even stick around long enough for him to collect. "Have you decided where the fates are pulling you?"
Amaia's smile flashed into a grin for a moment. "Brave is one way to describe it, sure. If making me kneel or swear fealty is the worst you could think up on the spot, then I can assure you I've done worse on a lost bet. You take all the time you like, make sure you're thoroughly pleased with your choice before you make it." She paused for a moment, considering the question. "For now, I think fate wants me to play highborn and join the princess' retinue. She's got a way about her, a sort of charm I guess, and I have always had trouble resisting the charms of beautiful people."
Dean scowled at her rebuttal. Kneeling would be a personal hell for him, but he supposed she didn't reciprocate. By the time he came back to the conversation, Amaia was speaking on the charms of beautiful people. "I'd drink to that." The words of many a man met in taverns echoed through him. "And then at least with you sticking around you have a chance to even out your currently abysmal ranking in bets won against me."
That drew a full laugh out of Amaia. "True enough, I can't let my record as an utter failure stand for long, my pride couldn't bear it. I'll have to come up with something to even the score. First to kneel to Kouri wins?" She'd noted his unhappy response to her blowing off the kneeling, and her tone was playful and slightly mocking, clearly making a joke rather than a serious bet.
Dean manages a laugh at himself for Amaia's sake "Very cute. I suppose I can't use my previous win to get this win as well then, whatever we set the bet to be?"
She cocks a brow at him, still very obviously amused. "You know, I've never heard anyone suggest that before. Everyone seems to have too many fun or devious ideas for what to use their prize for to want to use it to win the next bet. If you want to be boring about it, well, I did say you could name whatever you wanted. That would make it hard to keep the game interesting though, and why bother playing if there's no fun to be had?"
Dean looked away from Amaia for a second down to his feet. "Winning is plenty fun for me? But fine. Since you want to be a spoil sport. What do you think of the Commander. Ol' Greg he's called."
"I do want to be a spoil sport. If I'm not having fun, why should anyone else?" Amaia gave him a wide grin, completely unabashed about her selfish statement, though it vanished quickly as she considered his question. "Ol' Greg, huh? I would've figured him for something stronger, the sorta nickname they give pirates in the stories. He's a tough old bastard, that much is plain. Ruthless. He's got his cause, and I'd wager he would see the rest of the world burn to fulfill it. He's not the sort of person I'd make an enemy out of, that's for sure. Why do you ask, anyway?"
"Sounds about right. Think one of us could make him crack a smile?" He smirked wickedly.
Amaia stared at him blankly for a few seconds. "You're bloody insane." She matched his smirk with another grin. "I approve, and you have yourself a bet. Here's hoping neither of us make him cry, eh?"
"I think bringing him to tears might ruin this game in any future events."
"Yes, probably so." Amaia's grin widened a bit. "Almost seems worth trying all the same, but that'll have to wait for another day. Let's stick to no specific terms for the bet, eh? The mystery is part of the fun."
Dean nods along. "Then it sounds like we've got a bet on our hands once again."
"So we do. I'll be sure to win so I can show you how an open-ended prize is supposed to work." Amaia gave him a quick wink, then turned on heel and headed away from the training area that many were gathering round. There was likely some sort of fun to be had elsewhere, after all.
~~~
Amaia and Mikan - Combat Foreplay
(A collab with @Brovo)
As it turned out, there wasn't much of worth to be found elsewhere in the hideout. Amaia found herself back in the vicinity of the fighting square after becoming bored with meandering through the rest of the place. Looking around to find someone worth chatting with to alleviate the boredom, a pretty face caught her eye, as they usually did: Mikan couldn't match Kouri for sheer looks, but she was by no means a homely woman. Amaia had gotten into this odd situation mainly because she'd been eyeing the woman with interest from afar, yet they'd barely exchanged any words since then. Amaia had seen her flirting her way round the people from the pond, and more recently with the room at large, and she figured that would make an easy way to start a conversation. While she was at it, the training area seemed to be empty for the moment and in need of combatants, and what better way was there to get to know someone than to try stabbing each other?
She approached Mikan with a broad smile and looked her over once, from head to toe and back up again. "I too find myself interested in tangling closely, but my version doesn't usually have such a large audience. Interested in sparring? We could give the lads quite a show, I'm sure." Amaia gave Mikan a wink and patted the hilt of one the knives on her belt, making it clear that the double entendre was both a come on and an offer to have a training fight.
Mikan giggles and wrings out her wrists, having already duelled Dean earlier, she yet seemed eager for another round of sparring. "Like I would say no." She picks up a wooden dagger off the floor, and whistles for the Half-Elf Ranger that was organizing it all.
The half elf, understandably, looked irritated. Nonetheless, he motions to a rack of various wooden blades, axes, spears, and so on that Amaia could choose from. "The rules are as follows. If you tap the ground three times with one of your hands, you lose. If you break a bone or become unable to fight, you lose. If you get thrown out of this arena, you lose." He motions to the fifty square feet marked in chalk that Mikan was standing it. The half elf pulls out a coin from his pocket. "When you are ready, I will toss this coin in the air. When you hear it hit the ground, the fight begins. It is that simple... Any questions?"
Amaia made her way over to the wooden weapon rack and removed all her steel as the Ranger explained the rules. By the time he had finished, she had respectable a pile made up of one simple knife used for utility, two heavier daggers, and twenty smaller throwing knives. She took a couple wooden daggers from the weapon rack and hefted them and took a few practice swings while responding. "No questions, it is indeed simple." She made her way into the chalked square opposite Mikan and took up a basic fighting stance, knees bent just a bit to keep her weight low and wooden daggers at the ready. Once she was in place, she shot quick grin at Mikan. "I'll try not to break anything, but no promises. I get a little rough sometimes."
"Ohh... I doubt you'll really hurt me." Mikan replies as she takes her one wooden dagger and swings it to face downward. Her eyes were already running over the floor, trying to find the best approaches to counter. The half-elf flips the coin, and steps out of the arena. As the coin strikes the ground, Mikan takes a couple cautious steps forward, and then waits for Amaia's move. "I just have the feeling there's a lot of other things you'd rather do."
Amaia matches the couple steps forward, tightening her grip on the dagger hilts. "Don't sell me short. A lot of those other things could easily involve hurting you, though not by way of broken bones. Maybe I'll show you what I mean later." She circled round to her right, Mikan's left, for a half dozen steps, then rushed in to see how the woman would respond with her single dagger. Amaia took a swipe at Mikan's thigh with her right dagger, holding the left defensively to ward off the other woman's weapon if needed.
Mikan watches Amaia dart towards her from the left, and giggles as bends her knees ever so slightly. Amaia would find herself just that little bit slower than Mikan, who jumped and twisted in the air to avoid the dagger, her hand falling to the ground to balance herself out as her feet suddenly lunge out together at Amaia's face: A mid-air kick delivered all within a second. Then, as she takes it to the chin, she would hear the oddest sound.
Ding.
She's sent falling to the ground with a surprising amount of pain in her jaw, slipping and sliding half a dozen feet before recovering. Mikan, meanwhile, simply rolls to her feet and flourishes the wooden dagger in her hand. She taps one of her feet on the ground, and it sounded like leather, but it also sounded like it was heavier than it was supposed to be. "I stole these. They're really nice. Really, really nice."
Amaia pushed herself up, shaking her head vigorously to clear the ringing in her ears. As she got to her feet she blew a small gob of saliva out the side of her mouth, pleased to see no telltale pinkish tint of blood. "They feel like they cost their original owner a lot. Getting them free was a damn good deal." Now that she knew Mikan had tricks up her sleeves, Amaia approached more slowly, watching her opponent closely. She circled round again, watching the other woman move and trying to get a read on how she was prepared to react. Amaia made a couple short jabs toward Mikan's torso to gauge the range, then stepped in and sent a quick feint toward her face with the lefthand dagger, sweeping her right leg around to try to catch Mikan in the back of the knee and knock her off balance.
Mikan blocks both of the jabs heading for her torso, and ducked to avoid the left hand dagger, only to fall hook line and sinker for the sweeping leg movement. She stumbles to the side and nearly loses her balance, keeping her knees bent and her position low so as to avoid falling entirely. Her dagger hand remains in front of her, ready to protect against another attack and lunge out if she saw the opportunity. "Where'd you learn that, Frau?* (Lady.)"
"Oh, I'm no lady, trust me on that one." Amaia pressed forward, aiming o keep Mikan on the retreat. "I learned it on the streets of Liveria, where I grew up. The lesson there was always fight to win, honor won't keep you alive. You either picked up tricks or you ended up in a ditch. I picked up some tricks." As she said the last word, she feinted another kick at the same leg, just lifting her leg and tensing it is if to strike. Instead, she threw the wooden dagger in her left hand at Mikan's face, more to distract than to do any damage, and rushed in behind it with the right hand dagger to deliver a couple swift jabs aimed at the other woman's stomach.
Mikan slips backward and falls onto her ass as the wooden edge of the dagger still managed to scrape her face. As Amaia descends to deliver the final couple of blows, the thief throws her own dagger at Amaia's face. The two hit each other at the same time, with Mikan crying out in pain, and her dagger bouncing off Amaia's nose, hitting with enough force to cause it to start bleeding.
The half-elf King's Ranger rolls his eyes as he picks his coin up out of the centre of the arena, hearing Mikan tap the floor three times with her hand. "We have baths you know..." He mutters under his breath with irritation at Mikan's playful nature.
Fight over, Amaia tossed her remaining dagger aside but remained looming over Mikan, on her hands and knees over the other woman. She swiped the back of her left hand under her nose and then held it out to examine the blood. "Huh. Nice throw." She grinned down at her defeated foe, tilting her head to the side to avoid potentially dripping blood on Mikan's face. "You've got some tricks of your own in a fight, I see. I can't help but wonder what sort of tricks you know in other settings."
"Ohhh... Hmm..." Mikan's lips curve into a playful smile, as she rests her hands behind her head and stretches, then winces at the blows delivered to her gut, which were quickly bruising even now. "I think I know a few, Frau. Let's see how the rest of this evening goes... Maybe I'll entertain you with a few."
"Mm, yes, I've no doubt of your ability to entertain." Amaia pushed herself up and got to her feet, breathing only a little faster than normal after the quick fight. She offered a hand to Mikan. "Let's see about getting patched up. Wouldn't want to be in anything less than top condition in case of some evening festivities, eh?"
Mikan takes Amaia's hand and hops up, then intentionally presses herself up against her to whisper in her ear in the same, single motion. "Sounds like fun to me."
Amaia gave a short, breathy laugh and whispered back to her. "Oh, you've no idea. The duel was fun, but I'll show you some even dirtier tricks later." She pulled away with a wink, letting her left hand trail lazily along Mikan's thigh before turning and heading for the healers waiting on the sidelines of the training area with a devilish grin on her face.
Mikan giggles, but seems to look around for other prospects, not quite deciding on whether or not to follow up on Amaia's offer. Nonetheless, she did shudder to her touch, implying she was at least enticed by the offer.
Fantasy is my #1; I will give almost anything a chance if it has strong fantasy elements. Post apocalyptic, superhero, alternate history, science fantasy, some supernatural, romance, and a few fandoms (especially Game of Thrones) are also likely to catch my eye.
Amaia and Tahlia - Finding Purpose
(A collab with @Holmishire)
It was quite hard to not notice the dire wolf that had been let into the ranger hideout, and curiosity finally got the better of Amaia as she spotted it once more. She entered the sleeping room that the woman with the wolf had apparently chosen for the night, no more than a couple minutes after they went inside, keeping her posture loose and her hands away from her weapons to hopefully seem like no threat to the large creature. Amaia stopped in roughly the center of the room and nodded her head toward the wolf while addressing the woman with her words. "Curious companion you've got there. How do you go about getting a big furry pal like that?"
The blonde had been stashing her gear for the night when Amaia entered, but ceased and turned to look at the newcomer instead. The dire wolf, for his part, was already lying comfortably on the bottom-right bunk. The wood frame of the bed creaked as he lifted his head to look at her intently.
Rising from her kneeling position and dusting herself off, the petite woman approached Amaia. She bore a smile, but her eyes were distrustful. "I have a way with animals." She spoke hesitantly, as if making an effort to open herself up, but clearly not yet revealing all. "An ability, that allows me to communicate with them in ways other people can't."
"Hm." Amaia looked at the wolf and was slightly disturbed by the creature's stare. She put it down to simple, instinctual fear at being so near an animal that could probably tear her to pieces if it had a mind to. "I'm thinking it would have to be more than that, for a dire wolf at least. A regular wolf? I've seen hunters who had local wolves damn near tamed, so a bit of greater communication could see them made a boon companion easily enough. Dire wolves though, ah, fearsome and terrible beasts that they are, I just can't see something like a chat with one turning it into an obedient dog." She turned her gaze to the woman, brows furrowed in simple curiosity. "It's got to be some kind of powerful magic, doesn't it? Perhaps you've ensorcelled the creature, turned it into what folks back home would call a witch's familiar. That'd make sense to me." Amaia cracked a smile, shaking her head slightly. "But I'm being rude, aren't I? Prying into your business without even introducing myself. I'm Amaia Nekane, monster hunter by trade and nosy ass by nature. Pleased to meet you, and your wolf friend." She held out her hand, offering a shake by way of greeting.
The direwolf seemed to be growing agitated, but the blonde hesitantly moved forward to shake Amaia's hand, muttering "Are all Renaltans monster hunters?" as her hand gripped the other's. "My name is Tahlia Wether, and he is Faolan. I am a priestess of the Church of Rheinfeld." Tahlia grimaced. "Or former priestess, rather. I have to admit, I have been called witch before—it is not a title I would like to embrace, however."
Amaia didn't quite catch the content of the muttering, but let it go without comment as she gave Tahlia's hand a quick shake and then let her go. "I understand, it's not a pleasant title. I should know, I used to be a witch hunter before changing professions." She let the comment hang in the air with all its implication as she looked over to Faolan, then back to Tahlia. A smile spread across her face, just broad enough to show a hint of teeth. "I wasn't very good at it, truth be told. The witch hunters just kill anyone who uses magic in a way they don't approve of or understand. I prefer to kill only those who are true dangers to others, not those who keep to themselves or help others. That goes for so-called monsters as well; your pet makes me uneasy, but so long as he stays tame you won't get any trouble from me. Might as well clear the air on that out of the gate, eh?"
"Reassurances aside, you're not making it very easy for me to get comfortable. But I assure you, we will not pose a threat to you—my magic is relatively harmless." She returned to the side of the bed, to finish stashing her stuff. "I tend to matters of the soul, soothing spirits and the like." She glanced back up at Amaia. "Will you be staying the night? I promise I won't bewitch you in your sleep."
"Ah, well, sorry about that. I like to make light of things, but I guess you'd have little reason to find humor in witch hunting and such. Your magic sounds harmless enough. Hells, the little bit I know is more harmful that soothing and such." Amaia sidled over to the unoccupied bunk bed, sitting down on the bottom bunk. "I think I might as well bed down here, yes. I don't know if anyone else would be willing to share a room with Faolan there, and the Rangers seemed a bit concerned about space." She looked Tahlia over, smiling faintly. As she spoke again, she put on a teasing and joking tone. "The promise almost disappoints me though. Being bewitched isn't all bad, and you're cute enough to make an amusing mistress. I'm almost jealous of Faolan."
Tahlia froze, blushing a lively red, while Faolan snorted in amusement. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to imply... I mean, I appreciate the offer, but—" She glanced at Faolan, and as they made eye contact, her blush only deepened in intensity. She gulped nervously, and then looked back at Amaia. "I don't think it would be proper."
Amaia couldn't help but laugh at seeing Tahlia get so flustered. "I don't think I've seen anyone turn quite that shade of red before. It's almost impressive. Don't worry about it, it was mostly a joke and I'm not the type to take offense to rejection." She looked over to Faolan, brows drawing together. "Curious though, the way you looked to him. Almost like you thought he'd have an answer for you. And it sort of sounded like he was amused, for a second there. I know dire wolves are supposed to be intelligent, but.. Does your magic do something to make him smarter than a beast ought to be?"
Tahlia opened her mouth, as if about to deny Amaia's allegations, only to be abruptly knocked over from behind by Faolan's muzzle. Shaking himself a little, the dire wolf rose out of the creaking bunk to stand beside Tahlia, looking to her expectantly.
She pouted, but slumped in defeat. "He is... Not as he appears." She bit her lip anxiously. "Faolan is human—as he lay dying, I saved him by transferring his soul into another body. I meant to tell you all eventually, but I knew not how. In my homeland, few are sympathetic to his plight."
"Oh." Amaia stared at the woman and wolf for a few seconds, blinking more rapidly than was necessary. "Oh. Wow. That's.. Wow." She turned her gaze more directly to Faolan, searching for signs of humanity. "Yes, that would definitely be enough to get you labeled a witch. Probably got called unnatural, abomination, evil, the whole gamut of fearful words I'm sure. I can't judge the moral side of things, but this certainly isn't normal." She turned her eyes back to Tahlia, frowning slightly. "How'd you manage to get him into a dire wolf, of all things? Just had one handy when you found the poor bastard dying?"
Tahlia wiped a tear from her eye, but wasn't otherwise visibly upset. "He knocked the beast out before succumbing to his wounds." She attempted a weak smile. "I didn't marry a pussy, if you catch my meaning."
"Marry?" Amaia looked to the wolf again, then back to Tahlia. "You mean that's your husband? Wow. I was wondering why you'd do something so extreme to save someone, and I guess that explains it. Don't take this the wrong way, but damn, you have one fucked up life."
"We all make our sacrifices. Since then, I've at least never had to make them alone." Rising from the floor where she'd been kneeling since Faolan's rude interruption, Tahlia flopped onto her bunk. She seemed to lack energy, as if a great weight had been lifted with her confession, leaving her empty and bare. Faolan crept over to join her, and in a moment of silence, Tahlia's ears perked up, as if she were listening to something only she could hear, before scoffing. "Aye, and we shouldn't forget who lead us here. Compared to the princess, my life is a fairytale—the kind with a happy ending, that is."
"True enough. If I had to choose one life or the other to trade with my own, yours seems the better option." Glancing back and forth between the woman and wolf, Amaia gestured vaguely to indicate the both of them. "So you can sort of talk, I'm guessing? Some kind of magic communication going on that doesn't require speech?"
"Not magic. At least, not any kind of magic that I know of. It is as if I have another sense, allowing us to communicate through concepts at a base level." Tahlia fidgeted a little, trying and failing to find the right words. "It's hard to describe. I could use it to project my own thoughts to him, but he generally prefers me to speak aloud." She sat up to look Amaia in the eye. "But you know now much about me—enough, perhaps, to pass judgment on my character. And yet I know so little of you. Do you not have family, friends, that you must have left to be here now?"
Amaia listened to the explanation without any interjection, just nodding along and trying to imagine how it would work to communicate through concepts and feelings rather than true words. The question caught her off guard, and she sat there with her mouth slightly open for a couple seconds before gathering herself and putting on a slightly strained smile. "My judgement of you wouldn't be a negative one, I think. I don't know that you'll come to the same conclusion about me." She took a deep breath and let out a sigh. "I don't have much of anyone waiting around for me, no. My parents never managed to have another child live through infancy, and they died of a spring sickness when I was a child. Grew up on the streets, running with other orphans and learning to survive more or less on my own. Most of them died, whether by sickness or starvation or by the noose for getting caught trying to steal just enough to not starve to death. I got pulled out of that life by a witch hunter who must've seen something of value in me, though I suppose I disappointed her in the end. My, ah, permissive attitude toward witches was bad enough in their eyes even before I ran afoul of a lovely necromancer and ended up bedding her rather than beheading her. Ever since then I've just been traveling, finding nasty things to kill for coin or at least a hot meal and a bed for a night, still stealing and scrounging when I've a need to." She let out a brief laugh without much humor in it. "I've found pleasant company where I could, but the life of a roaming monster hunter isn't great for the social life, you see. I almost envy you your companion, complications and all."
"And you said my life was fucked? We at least had a good twenty-or-so years before being cast out of our home. I'd hate to assume, but—" Tahlia gestured vaguely with her hand to encompass their quarters. "This whole ranger's shtick must be a Godsend for you. Food, beds, company." She smirked a little. "And the only cost is that you run a little extra risk of being hunted down by angels."
"Yeah, your assumption is spot on, it's a pretty nice deal, even including the possibility of angry angels. Coming by food and shelter haven't been terribly troubling for me for a while, but having folks to talk to is a nice change of pace." Amaia leaned forward, elbows resting on her knees. "Enough about me and my troubles for the moment, what do you make of Kouri? Seems she's truly the figure out of legend, but she doesn't seem all that... legendary. All that talk of beating the gods, but she still seems like just some woman who can do a bit of magic and has a great poker face, you know?"
"She froze an entire lake—I doubt anyone else amidst our number could match that much raw power. And I, for one, have never seen the Gods' work." Tahlia sneered. "Figureheads, as far as I'm concerned, undeserving of worship. Were they truly as powerful as is claimed, these rangers would have been wiped out long ago."
"Hmm, fair points. The gods always did seem like useless cunts to me, what with the talk of infinite love and mercy while I saw folks dying for simple want of food." Amaia thought for a moment, looking at Tahlia with her brows drawn together. "Actually, didn't you say you used to be a priestess? I can think of a few reasons you might have to turn away from the gods, but I wouldn't have expected that level of blasphemy from a former priestess nonetheless."
Tahlia grunted in assent, her eyes glazing over as she pondered Amaia's analysis. After a couple moments to gather herself, she replied. "When I was a child, my faith was absolute. Adva, the village crone, would come by, mutter a prayer, and the pain would go away. The Gods had visible, tangible power." She frowned. "When I was apprenticed by Adva, I learned that what we called divine miracles were works of magic, borne of human hands. When I prayed, I did it to comfort my friends and family, shielding them in ignorance so that they might live a simple life. I held no such delusions."
"And here I thought your disenchantment with the gods must have been recent. Amaia shrugged, obviously not bothered by ideas that others would call heresy. "I'd guess that means you don't have any problem with Kouri's talk of defeating the gods. You planning on following her and helping her try it?"
"I figured my continued presence here was testimony enough of that." She took on a more serious tone as she continued. "I know what it is like to live on the run. For that reason alone, I am tempted to join her. But it isn't just her." Tahlia gestures vaguely at the door. "These people who follow her—she has inspired great purpose in them. I could do with a little purpose in my life."
Faolan, who at this point had been feigning sleep, opened an eye to look at Amaia and grunted, nudging Tahlia to speak on his behalf before closing his eye again.
"Faolan thinks it a dumb idea, for what it's worth."
Amaia chuckled and shook her head at the wolf. "Well, I have to disagree with you there, Faolan." She turned her attention back to Tahlia with a faint smile. "Having a purpose is important. A life without it isn't really living, just.. surviving. If you think you'll find something you need by following Kouri, I'd say that's worth the trouble it'll bring."
"I reckon I'll find far more than I bargained for." She flopped back into Faolan's fur, arms crossed behind her head, staring at the bedding above her. "We all will." By this point, the dire wolf had fallen asleep in full, his chest rising and falling in great waves, rumbling softly in his slumber. Tahlia took on a softer tone, though whether it was for his sake or not was unclear. "And what of you? If this is to be your purpose..." She closed her eyes. "Do you... Are we doing the right thing?"
"Being honest, I can't see a reason to care about that. Right and wrong are just matters of opinion. If it's something that gives your life meaning, who cares what anyone else thinks? Anything is better than simply wandering about looking for a reason to keep putting one foot in front of the other."
Amaia slipped off the bed, stood up straight, and stretched her arms over her head with her fingers interlaced, letting out a pleased sigh to accompany the sound of joints popping. "But you've got it wrong, Tahlia. I know what it's like to go without, but I'm not here looking for purpose. I just like to give advice to those I find who are going through that struggle. I'm here because I already know what I want out of life and following that path has led me here." She glanced toward the door and couldn't hold back a little smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. "Speaking of which, I just recalled that I had some tentative plans for this evening. I think I'll go track her down and take any noisy activities elsewhere so as not to disturb your rest, or I'll return shortly if I find myself disappointed. I enjoyed our talk, and I look forward to the next one, whenever that might be."
Tahlia smiled without opening her eyes. "I'd hate to stand in the way of your 'purpose'," she muttered. She opened a single eye to look at Amaia. "Good luck."
"Thanks. Remember, nobody ever said your purpose had to be pure or noble." Amaia shot a quick wink at Tahlia before heading for the door, humming a pleasant tune as she went.
Dean goes to the training room, duels with the Ranger's resident Chef, Gorgok, and then continues with a more good spirited duel with Mikan. Things take a turn for the dramatic as Marcus and Dean square off, but Dean takes offence for comments made by the older man.
The test had passed and he had been glad for it. By now Dean had taken part in enough doubt and seen enough blind faith in the subject to be considerably confused. Now, finally at least this question was answered and the only ones left to dispute the fact that the Princess stood among them were the intolerably ignorant. He wondered briefly if he might expect much grief from those he displayed doubt to. Would Baldrik be in a vengeful mood after feeling ridiculed when they spoke? For some reason he wasn't terribly concerned, but he would handle that problem should it arise.
Now the real question was what to do with his time. The Rangers had now disclosed the full accommodations to the party, and there was plenty to do. The stock piles seemed a particularly exciting venture. Who knew what treasures an organization like the King's Rangers might be hiding? Then it dawned on him that anything of note that they did have would probably be locked away tightly. Doubly so considering some of the company the Princess now kept.
In the end the symphony of thoughts in his mind ended on the same note: Training. The Rangers had mentioned a room to hone skills, and that was the only thing that truly appealed to Dean. He thought for a moment on the directions they had so recently been given, and was about to set off, when he was interrupted suddenly by Amaia coming over and jabbing him in the ribs.
[○○○]
His conversation with Amaia having closed, Dean walked out of the room with a skip to his step. He'd successfully won the bet, and could count at least that as a positive despite anything that may come from this trip. He walked down the halls, looking for the training room, mind still racing at different ways to cash in on his bet, but also how best to approach their current one.. Gregory seemed like a derelict old soldier. Tough as leather, but less personable. It had seemed like a funny thing to suggest, he had not thought Amaia would accept.
Much to his own surprise, it wasn't long before Dean found himself in what must have been the training room. Various Rangers spoke freely among themselves with plenty of equipment and dummies at their disposal. Despite his general distaste for the Rangers themselves he found himself at least mildly impressed with the operation they were running here. He must have looked slightly out of place now that he thought of it, a young looking man just entering from seemingly nowhere? He wondered how best to approach starting a training session with any of these men.
One of the King's Rangers takes a glance at Dean. He was likely a half-elf, given his odd looking ears. "Here to watch, or to train?"
A relieved expression reaches Dean's face as the Ranger approaches him, glad to not have to make first contact. An excited smirk came next after the question. "What fun is there in watching? I aim to prove I'm not filled with hot air." He exclaimed, suddenly remembering his exchange with the Commander. "Anyone free for a round?"
Half the room simply stops what they're doing, and stares at Dean. There was dead silence as an orc steps forward, his hands clenched. He seemed a bit overweight, and yet the vicious grin on his face showed nothing but eagerness. The half-elf speaks again. "This is Gorgok. He is our chef." Mikan slips beside Dean, and then looks at the orc, up and down, and whistles. "That's, uh, a little big." Gorgok grins. "Little man wants to play?"As the room went silent, Dean tried to ascertain exactly why it seemed they were all looking at him. Bringing up his previous comment might have done it. He felt his ears burn slightly red, and his breath caught in his chest as Gorgok stepped forward. That was a large Orc. "Chef huh?" His training told him to produce a charming smile, but he could barely manage a straight face. "I'll count my blessings I'm always hungry... uh, yeah Gorgok, let's play ourselves a game."
Dean vs Gorgok
Joint Agression
Gorgok motions for Dean to enter a part of the room marked in chalk. It was about fifty square feet in size--giving some room to move around it. There was one bigger, that looked made for group combat, and a few smaller, perhaps for grappling. "Fall out of square, you lose. Tap ground, you lose. Bone break, you lose, but try not to break bones--Gorgok told, breaking bones is bad." His accent was thick, as though he struggled with the common tongue. "Gorgok hug you, you lose, little man." The last remark seemed more of a taunt than a rule. Mikan follows with Dean, and whispers in his ear. "He's leaning on his left leg more than his right. I bet'cha his knee hurts. Go get em'." She then giggles and slips away to join the small group of two dozen or so forming to watch the fight.
Dean nods along as Gorgok explains the rules. Seemed straight forward enough. The comment concerning a hug threw him off for a moment, but he was quick to recover with a chuckle. Confidence wasn't altogether returning, but he felt more at ease in the square than he had previously "On the off chance I win, we can hug anyway if you'd like, but I'll expect your signature dish as trophy." He made eye contact with Mikan as she gave some helpful tips. Right knee. Got it. he thought as he made a mental note. "So when is the entrée served?"
The half-elf seemed to be the one who managed most of the contests of skill, as he glances between Dean and Gorgok. "Seeing as how Gorgok is intimate with all the rules, and has the size advantage, you pick the weapons to use, newcomer. They're all made of hardened wood, so it won't kill you to get hit by one, but it will hurt, and may even break bones if the strike is decisive enough. We have swords, axes, daggers, throwing knives, and spears. All wooden, of course. Death cannot be learned from."
"Swords." Dean replied decisively.
"Swords it is." The half-elf retrieves a pair of wooden swords off the wall and tosses them: One to Dean, one to the orc. The orc tosses it aside and laughs. "Puny stick not as strong as my hands." Mikan rolls her eyes and then glances at Dean. She winks, knowingly.
Dean rubs the back of his head somewhat awkwardly as Gorgok denies his sword, however he accepts his graciously "Thank you Ranger." He looks across the square to Gorgok. "You wouldn't be more interested in an axe or something? If the rules allow it you can take whatever you like."
Gorgok shakes his head and laughs again. "I use wood axe. I break wood axe in one blow. Wood axe useless."
"I admire the enthusiasm then." He replied with a shrug.
The half-elf steps to the middle of the fight, and looks between them. He pulls out a small coin, and places it between his fingers. "The moment you hear this coin hit the ground, the fight begins. It ends when one of you begs, you tap the ground three times with one of your hands, or you're in no condition to fight any longer." He tosses the coin up in the air, and watches it hit the ground. The first sound Dean would hear immediately after the coin hits the ground is Mikan cheering, alone. "KICK HIS ASS!" Gorgok laughs and takes a couple steps forward, and then motions for Dean to attack. "You challenge. You come and fight me now."
As the coin clattered against the ground Dean lowered his stance, readying for what might come. Gorgok's approach was slow, and it seemed as if he wanted Dean to come to him, possibly due to the weak right knee Mikan had noted. "Fight's on bub. It's you, me and fifty square feet of chalk until one of us give." He tested the sword in his hand, getting a proper feeling for the weight it held.
Gorgok approaches a little closer, leaving only about twenty feet between them. "Little man is scared of fight. Little man should go home." As he does, he stops and looks past Dean to notice Marcus entering the room. Marcus looks between the King's Rangers, who seem to give him a little space as he speaks neutrally. "Maybe he needs incentive, Gorgok." The orc grunts and looks at Dean. "Maybe I better to protect princess. Little man too weak. Little man too cowardly."
Dean put everyone out of his mind. He didn't care who was in the crowd. The tiefling could try to force his hand if he wanted, Gorgok could taunt all he wanted, he could have the Princess as well for what Dean cared, and Mikan could shout until she went blue in the face. Dean's full attention was inside the square, just as he was taught. He saw Gorgok less as a man, and more as a large bear. There was ground to work with there.Knowing his blade to be dull, he couldn't risk letting Gorgok get his presumably strong hands on it. He closed in a few feet and feigned a lunge, hoping to draw the Orc's arms out to grab, so that Dean could instead slash at his forearms.
Gorgok reaches out to grasp at Dean, only for Dean to slip underneath and smash his wooden training blade against the orc's left forearm. He grunts and winces in pain as a brown-purplish hue takes to the skin, but before Dean could rejoice, he found himself forced back to avoid Gorgok slapping him aside like a toy. Marcus watches calmly from the side, as Mikan cheers.
Dean darts to the Orc's left side, expecting him to pivot on his good leg. He feigns to poke at the left forearm again, but his actual target was the Orc's right knee as Gorgok turns to face him.
Gorgok does indeed pivot on his good leg, and yet, his attack would come unexpectedly toward Dean. Dean strikes his right knee with ease--mainly because it was hurdling towards him. Nonetheless, Dean maintained the sense of mind to maintain his strike, slamming his training blade against the knee cap. Yet, Gorgok is still able to hit Dean, and knock him flat onto his back. Gorgok then hops up and down on one leg, grabbing his right knee in pain and howling in frustration.
As his back hit the ground he felt the air rush out of him. Pain shot up his back and head, and he could hear the howling, which was good for the moment, but he knew every second was precious. He hopped back onto his feet as quickly as he could and reevaluated the Orc. Mikan's tip seemed to have been good, he'd have to thank her for that, but there was no time to think on that subject. Picking up as much speed as he could and using his training sword as a pole vault to launch himself faster, Dean jumped feet first towards the still distracted Orc, in hopes of planting a dropkick directly to Gorgok's chest.
Gorgok turns as Dean sails through the air, and takes the kick to the chest with surprising ease. He takes a half-step back, and grins as he watches Dean fall. He moves to slam his right foot down on him the moment he hit the ground. "Little man fall down!"
With little other choice but to roll out of the way of the fast approaching foot, Dean attempts just that in hopes to get back on his feet.
Gorgok slams his right foot into the stone floor as Dean rolls out of the way. He can hear a satisfying cracking sound underneath the orc's foot, as both the stone gave way, and a hairline fracture raced its way up his ankle. Gorgok groans, with his mouth shut, eyes wide open, frozen in place in pain, as his face flushes bright red.
Dean stands behind Gorgok where he finally managed his way to his feet. Hands upon his waist and a disappointed look on his face. "Not the way I wanted this to go Gorggy." Still slightly wary that Gorgok may try some trick, Dean looked around at the group gathered there, searching for the Half-elf Ranger. "Are we calling this one then?"
The Half-Elf looks to Gorgok, who slowly limps away. He then looks back to Dean and nods. Marcus claps slowly as he passes by Mikan to walk into the make-shift fighting ring, and looks at Dean with some measure of respect. "Some fights are won by simply letting your opponent defeat themselves. Powerful but unstable wizards, for instance, will drain themselves entirely of magical power quickly, and leave themselves open for an easy kill afterwards... I'm not sure you did this intentionally, though."
Dean raised his eyebrows intentively as Marcus spoke "That's certainly food for thought, I had heard of Wizards burning themselves up. Though I never knew what it meant." He hid a coy face as Marcus continued "To be entirely honest? No. I didn't." He watched as Gorgok walked away, he sniffed lightly as the disappointment washed away with him. It wasn't the win he wanted, but he'd earned it all the same. Marcus would then be able to note Dean furrowing his brow "Guess he didn't want that hug afterall, eh?"
"Perhaps not." Marcus states plainly, as he turns and motions for the King's Rangers to return to their own training. Mikan looks at Marcus and crosses her arms. "So why do you get so much respect here?" Marcus glances back at her and smiles, his sharp looking teeth becoming more menacing than friendly. "I fought three men here and knocked each of them out in turn in less than sixty seconds. From that point forward, I have been given my due respect."
Dean looked wide eyed at the tiefling before him. Disposing of one man in under sixty seconds was challenging enough, but three in a row? He felt compelled to whistle. Not to be outdone however he motioned to the rest of the Rangers. "Well bring in my next challenger, I'll do my best to beat that record yet!"
None of the rangers seem to stir for the fight immediately, as they appeared to have been satisfied from having watched Gorgok lose his. That is when Dean hears a familiar giggle, stepping into the box with him. "Ooh, this could be fun." Mikan teases him as some of the King's Rangers turn back to surround the box again.
Dean and Mikan
In unison with the Rangers, Dean looked behind him to see Mikan standing before him. He was sure his face must have gone completely white at the sight of the small woman standing in the ring. "Uh... Are you sure? You had an awfully long day, what with almost drowning and such."
"Of course." Mikan replies with a smirk on her face. "What, afraid of hurting little ole' me? Touching, Dean, but I'll be fine."
Dean's internal monologue revved it's engine. Hurt? Vixen I'm worried I'll break you. outwardly however, Dean remained as straight faced as he had during his previous match. He'd seen her brandish her knife earlier in the pond, a practiced maneuver, and he felt he had a firm idea of how she might behave in a fight. "Hey, you're a big girl. If you want a few licks and bruises I'm game to supply them." He said swinging the training sword back and forth instinctively. "Pick your poison and we'll start."
She looks directly at the half elf and motions for a training dagger. "C'mon." She takes off her real weapons, her two blades--and impressively, a half a dozen hidden blades--and tosses them aside with careless ease. The half elf throws the wooden dagger. "Thanks." She then looks at Dean and grins mischievously. "Try not to get too handsy."
Dean stands patiently as Mikan removes blade after blade from various hidden locations. As she finally takes hold of the wooden dagger, she seemed ready for the fight. He wasn't overly concerned about her overpowering him, but her out maneuvering him was a possibility. He took two quick lunges forward to close the gap between them, bringing her well within range of a swing from his sword, but she'd have to close in considerably before using her dagger.
Mikan giggles in surprise as she deftly ducks and rolls underneath the swing of his blade. The wide swing to reach for her at a distance left his torso open, which she immediately took advantage of to slam the tip of the wooden dagger into his side, leaving a quick and painful bruise, but no permanent damage. As he recovers, she jumps to her feet and smiles widely, childishly. "I've fought Templar before. Thought you should know."
Between the pain in his side and the fit of breathless coughing the jab had produced Dean wasn't sure which was worse. Managing a jagged kind of laugh he slowly caught his breath. "Who's doubting you? I pity the Templar who tangles with you." He said as he stretched out, trying to ease the pain out of his side. This time he swung lower, aiming for her knees and shins, with small controlled swings, keeping close watch on her feet, making sure she wouldn't get close to him again.
Mikan hopped and swiveled backward with each strike toward her knees and shins, and before long, found herself near the edge of the arena. She bends her knees and as Dean goes for another strike, she jumps and lands her elbow squarely into the bottom of his jaw. His wooden blade scrapes the skin of her ankle, causing her to inhale sharply as she tries to scramble around him: Her blow had not cause him to fall.
At the contact between her elbow and his jaw Dean had sprung into action. His temper flared for a second as the ringing started through his head, but despite that he reached out in an attempt to grab anything as she attempted to scramble by. His aim was to begin grappling, his sword all but abandoned near the edge of the square now.
Mikan watches his hands reaching out to grasp her and immediately a sense of at least momentary panic seems to erupt in her eyes. Her hands reach out and grasp his wrists, though he was stronger than she was. She lifts her knee and for a moment, seemed to be going between Dean's legs, instead she diverts at the last second to his gut. It stung, but not enough to stop him. She looked into his eyes, looking for mercy from him.
His wrists stopped momentarily, he looked down in time to see Mikan's leg spring up and strike him in the gut. For the third time he found the air rushing out from him, he found it had been a lucky thing he hadn't eaten today, because surely he'd have vomited by now if he had. Still, in the brief moment he had seen her face, Dean could tell she was afraid. His eyes rolled almost without his input and he broke free of her meager grip. He looked back down to her eyes, with a strained smile on his face and reached around her waist in an attempt to throw her over his shoulder.
Mikan is caught by surprise as Dean wraps his arms around her waist, and giggles as her knees bend just enough to allow her to jump and force the both of them tumbling to the floor, Dean falling backward. As he hits the floor, he finds Mikan on top of him, her hands on his wrists, and her knees around his waist. He was easily able to break free, though she was technically in an advantage position. "Ooh, I like your eyes from this angle. So full of... Fun." She giggles, as Marcus rolls his eyes nearby. "Wow."
For a split second Dean was happy. Mikan was going to simply allow herself to be carried out of the ring, and he could move on to other challengers. When suddenly he began tipping over, and he realized the small woman's deception once more. A loud curse can be heard from Dean as the two flop onto the ground, and Mikan ends up on top. "I think I liked you more when you were kicking me in the gut." Before noticing the position they found themselves in. He first silently echoes Marcus before continuing. "Have to hand it to you though, you seem to have a decent idea of fun." But now was no time for fun he realized as he once again broke free from her most recent hold, and after another quick grapple he would hopefully find himself on top, and Mikan would be pinned.
Mikan laughs openly as Dean rolls them over, and with him pinning her to the ground, she taps a hand on the ground three times. The half-elf steps into the makeshift arena and motions for Dean to step back. "That's enough... I'm not sure that was a real fight though." Mikan rolls her eyes and glances up at the half-elf ranger. "If this was a real fight, the moment I poked him in the rib cage is the moment it would have been over... I just wanted to have some fun with him." She looks up at Dean, and intentionally raises one of her legs, sliding it along his thigh and then tapping her knee against his bruised side. She was surprisingly flexible. "Sorry about that. I'm glad you didn't return the favour."
While Mikan slid her way out of the hold, Dean looked to the half-elf. "I would tend to agree with you, but my gut and my side are in staunch opposition." He watched Mikan as she took her leave of the chalk square and he laid down for a moment. "All I wanted was to train. Not be accosted by her."
Marcus chuckles. "Life does not work that way."
Dean and Marcus
"Well aren't you wise for knowing that... I blame you for throwing her in the lake to begin with. You're next on my list as it should happen. As long as no other Rangers wish a crack at me." He hesitated to speak too loudly or use poorly chosen words, he didn't doubt Mikan would leap back into the square, and begin things all a new.
"Really?" Marcus says with some amusement as he quickly looks Dean over. "Seriously? You're going to challenge a man in plate mail to a fight with wooden sticks?"
"What? Not a good enough offer? Okay fine, you can use a real sword as well if that's what you want. May as well blindfold me too, wouldn't want an advantage like sight on my side." Briefly he closed his eyes, hoping the sarcasm wouldn't be lost on the monster of a man.
Marcus rolls his eyes and motions to a nearby King's Ranger. "Help me take this off." Immediately, the other King's Rangers stop to watch, interested in a fight involving one of their own, more experienced people. "I will use a staff. Use whatever weapon you wish."
As the Rangers went to work on Marcus, Dean strolled casually to the edge of the square where he had dropped his sword in the previous bout. "Seems like you carry an awful lot of authority for someone who's life was on the hook less than an hour ago. Amazing what three good duels will earn you, eh?" It was an obvious pry into who Marcus actually was, but Dean could hardly fathom he was so impressive a Ranger to have beaten three in under a minute, yet so expendable for being easily fooled by phony Princesses. "I'll stick with the sword. Hasn't failed me yet." Not that he had made much use of it either.
Marcus simply grabs a weathered looking wooden practice blade himself, one handed. He was wearing nothing more than dark grey cloth now, no protection if he were to be struck. He steps slowly to the other side of the arena, his eyes looking over Dean, evaluating him. As the half-elf reaches for his coin, Marcus shakes his head. "He wants his fight, he can have it now. I will simply wait here for him to gather his temerity and make his empty boasts." He stood no more than five feet from the edge of the arena, as he runs his thumb over the handle of his blade.
Dean truly hated a man without a sense of humor, he hated that man even more when he set himself up as Marcus had. So close to the edge as to leave Dean with few options, and putting all pressure on Dean to attack by openly mocking him. "You're such a spoil sport, and that's coming from me." A sour look spread across his face as he approached Marcus' front, still out of range of his sword.
Marcus raises his blade a little, ready to defend against any strike coming at him from Dean, and turning to keep his facing toward the boy. "Combat is not a game. You will learn this when you inevitably get someone you care for killed, assuming you aren't the one slain."
"The point's been made before that this isn't combat. In combat mistakes cost lives, true you could kill me with these swords I have no doubt. What I do doubt though is that your Princess would be thrilled to hear you slew someone who offered her help. The truth is you've never seen me fight." He began walking in a semi-circle around Marcus, avoiding stepping too close to the edge, looking for any opening but likely not finding anything of note. "You don't even know me, you know nothing of what or who I have or haven't lost, so save your judgements for someone you know the first thing about."
"Your name is Dean Hansen. You abandoned your family to follow a person only slightly more honourable than a brigand. You were momentarily considered for recruitment into the King's Rangers, but were passed over for candidates less likely to betray the order for their own personal desires." He replied bluntly, with Mikan nearby wincing as she seemed to realize the connotation. "Your move." Marcus states, calmly, still watching Dean's every move.
Dean repressed the urge to strike, clap sarcastically, or do anything retaliatory as Marcus brought to light what he knew. Instead he threw the sword to Marcus' feet and sat cross-legged in front of him, glaring at the man. "Guess you wasted your time getting out of your fancy armor."
Marcus lowers his blade, a little confusion in his eyes. "A shame. I saw potential in you." He kicks Dean's blade out of the arena, and starts walking away. "You will learn, or you will die."
Dean gets up silently and leaves the square himself, taking his sword with him as he goes.
Marcus looks up at the ceiling and growls, seemingly at himself, as he turns back and walks quickly toward Dean. He grabs his shoulder and squeezes it. "Look, Dean, you're not a bad person from what I've seen. I was trying to get under your skin, to see what it is I could teach you. I'm not trying to hurt you, or crush your ambitions... I just want to ensure that the princess has the best protection possible from those who travel with her, and that means making you a better fighter. Both in your mind and in your body."
Dean calmly takes Marcus' hand off his shoulder, though it could be seen his other hand clenched his blade almost hard enough to shatter it. "As I understand it, you had a moment in which you could have taught me, but I was apparently deemed, what? Untrustworthy? Dishonorable? Selfish?" He paused a second, seemingly tasting each word as they left his mouth. "Yeah. Might have even missed a few. If mistakes in combat are death, then pain is learning, and I'll study until I can't lift a blade, but I wouldn't want to learn a fucking thing from you now. So I guess I'll learn some other way, or I'll die, right?"
Marcus stops and watches Dean leaving, wrinkling his nose in irritation. "Something's there." He remarks plainly as he turns away and moves to put his armour back on, leaving Dean to stew by himself.
Uninterested in anything else Marcus had to say, Dean simply exited the training room. Unsure where else to go, but positive he had little interest remaining in the presence of Marcus.
The few candles burned slowly in the dim, drab dining room. The only sounds that permeated were the sounds of the nobleman impatiently tapping his finger and Sisera pouring wine into two cups, one for the nobleman and the other for his father. When the boy was finished he placed the wine on the table and looked up at his Father, who smiled and ruffled his black hair.
"Thank you Sisera, now go in the corner and read, that lantern should be enough light for you."
The boy nodded and quickly ran to the chair tucked away on the other side of the room picking up a book that read "Mages of the East and their practices". The Father continued to ignore the Nobleman's finger tappings as he took a long, hard gulp of the wine, wiping his face with his hands. Frankly he didn't care if the Nobleman in front of him was disgusted with his etiquette
"I do not regret submitting the petition" The Nobleman suddenly spoke defiantly. "I broke no laws, Benjamin"
"No, you did not" Benjamin politely retorted "Nor is the Royal Family offended by the petition, we are always open to any concerns the Patrician families might have. What upsets the King is the way this was conducted."
"My point was made, a public petition in the court guarantees a response"
"All it guarantees is a bloody mess with everyone leaving with a bad taste in their mouths. What you did was beyond stupid. If you'd have met with the King privately, Gods, if you had met me before pulling this stunt you would have been better off."
"I have over 25 names on this petition Benjamin! And they are all important names, bringing the petition to the court is a sign of strength"
"A very hollow one because now nothing will get done. In two days time, you will go before the King and Queen in the court and repeat your oath of loyalty to them"
"What! How dare you! You dare insinuate that I am a traitor! Simply because myself and many other members of gentry want our property taxes lowered!"
"You presume too much. Despite this... uncomfortable situation. The Royal family knows you are a loyal, stead-fast servant. However, many of your...friends who are property owners on our borderlands are now inclined to have certain thoughts. Stupid thoughts that will go no where, but thoughts nonetheless. You retaking your vows of loyalty will put an end to such thoughts."
"You dirty swine-
"You should be quite thankful that the King didn't decide to rip that bloody petition to shreds. We will speak about it after you have done your part. Is that clear?
"… By the Gods I hope your boy doesn't grow up to be like you"
"For your sake you better hope he does. For as much as you and the rest of the great families despise me, know that in the future if the friendship between yourself and the Royal Family becomes...strained, I will be your best defense."
…
"And that boy over there may very well grow up not giving a damn about any of you."
After those words there was a long, painful silence. Benjamin's eyes, which were often so full of drunken mirth now had an icy, dreadful steel behind those pudgy cheeks. The nobleman now looked down at his drink, humbled and privately humiliated.
"How is the book son?" Benjamin asked playfully
"Oh it's wonderful daddy, thank you for getting it"
"I'm glad to hear it son, can you get myself and our esteemed guest here one last drink to send him off?"
"Of course Daddy"
"That's a good boy"
_______________________________________________________________________________________
((Collab between myself and @Brovo))
Sisera opened his eyes slowly at first, then they widened quickly as his mind jump-started. Great. Even after two mugs of ale and a nice bath, a good night's sleep was still not guaranteed, he sighed as he rubbed his hands over his face and scalp in annoyance. He wouldn't be able to go to sleep, not for a while. Gods know how damn late it was. With a grunt he raised himself out of bed and threw his clothes on. Despite knowing this place was more than safe, he buckled his sword-sheathe around his waist; some instincts just would never die. He slipped on his robe and closed the door behind him, he was happy he got a room to himself, otherwise he would have just slept out in the hallway. He would avoid sharing a room with someone at all costs, it would all be too hard to explain. Especially to this group he still called strangers. Even that Baldrik fellow was just another stranger to Sisera.
Whether it was day or night, this hide-out was so dreary and sad. What a pathetic legacy of Renalta, honestly Sisera thought that if he was one of the Gods he would keep this stronghold alive as a mockery to the memory of Renalta's greatness. He furrowed his brow, how humiliating this must have been to Kouri. He figured that when she entered her private chambers she probably cried herself to sleep-
No! Don't think of that! That thought... it was too painful for Sisera. Like an arrow to the gut, or a punch that breaks your jaw. He hadn't seen her tears since she was a little girl, and the sight had broken his heart then. If he saw such a sight now... with everything that had happened...
In some desperate distraction from his thoughts, he made a sudden turn and then found himself in what looked like a training room. This must have been that sparring area the Commander had been talking about. He made a long, heavy, loud sigh, thinking he was alone. This pain for brief, sporadic moments seemed too much for Sisera. And yet he never cried, not once had he shed a single tear. The worst part being he didn't really know why.
"This whole thing" He said to himself "Is one big bloody mess" echoing his Father.
"Life truly is." Marcus retorts from the shadows, as most of the torches had gone out. He sat, willingly in darkness, still in his armour, late in the night. For what reason, none could guess. "You truly are a gibbering, mad fool, aren't you?"
As more of a habitual reaction than anything else Sisera felt for his scabbard, then eased up slightly when he recognized the voice. He was certainly startled for a brief moment, but quickly regained his composure, or what could be interpreted as composed; that dull look in his eyes with no easy-to-read emotions on his face.
"Funny enough the Renaltan nobility used to say similar things when I was younger. It's good to know I still have that certain charm" The sarcasm was so thick you could cut with a knife.
"Still, there is a truth to those words" He quietly admitted.
"You realize you may be more harmful than helpful." Marcus states coldly, as he remains firmly in the dark. Though the outline of his form could be seen, leaning against a wall, he had his hood up, and no specific features could be made out. "If your story is true, I would imagine most men would simply be broken by the torture you endured... And would do anything to escape it."
"My story?" Sisera mumbled softly, before pursing his lips to something resembling a small sneer. "I have no Story" he said, his calm voice lined with bitterness before pausing and reflecting on those words.
"Well... everyone has a Story I suppose. Mine was simply put on hold, and it was only until this day that someone bothered to pick up where they left up. Except this time the book is singed and old" He shrugged.
"Though I do wonder what a King's Ranger hiding in the shadows cares for my Story." He made a slight smile "I am just a gibbering, mad fool after-all"
From the shadows, Sisera can see the telltale glint of metal, as Marcus reveals a throwing knife from underneath his cloak and starts twirling it in one hand. "We are the eyes and ears of the royalty. We defend from threats both within, and from outside... It's our duty to know stories." He stops twirling the dagger, and hides it back underneath his cloak. "Especially those that involve too many coincidences, Sisera."
He noted the knife in Marcus's hand though his eyes did his best to keep his composure. Under his robe he shifted his feet, ready to dodge if the knife was thrown. He was nervous, ironically not because of the weapon, but because someone was confronting him about his past. Still, Sisera kept a level head and was surprisingly focused on the man. It seemed Marcus had a quality that forced Sisera to keep his mind sharp, a quality that Sisera quietly appreciated.
"Ah, so that's what this is about." He said "If you know who I am that might mean you know what happened after Typhon sacked the city."
Sisera had a feeling he knew where this conversation was heading, and he was insulted by it.
"What, you think I'm going to go insane? Act like some lunatic beggar on the street? H-h-h
He had trouble saying the last bit, the thought was obviously painful one.
"H-hurt Kouri?" He gritted his teeth "Do you think after everything that has happened I would lose it and hurt the one person that I gave everything for?"
He pulled up his robe sleeve, the poor lighting did not show the marks well, but they could be seen nonetheless. His eyes were no longer dull and plain:
"I've proved my loyalty to her. And I will always remain loyal to that woman who I will call my Queen!"
"A queen who inherits ashes and dust. A man obsessed with a woman of power. Where have I heard this before..." Marcus' tone was almost amused, though it seemed more venomous rather than jovial. "Your scars prove to me that you were tortured. That you endured hardships that would break any man. I've no reason to believe a coincidence, that you simply broke free in time to see the princess again. Tell me, from my position, would you trust the earnesty of a man who could have very easily been mentally broken, and then set free to cause more harm than good intentionally?" Marcus drops the throwing knife, and slides it across the floor to Sisera. It was blood stained, though the blood was old and flaking off. "All it takes is one man and two seconds. My job is not to trust anything or anyone at face value. Take it for what you will, but when a babbling man tries to prove his loyalty with the scars of failure and an obsession, it does not impress me. You want trust? Earn it, in front of me."
For a few seconds, there was a fierce fire in Sisera's eyes as he glared down Marcus.
"You dirty Swine-
Sisera paused, his anger suddenly subsided, dirty swine those were the words that that Nobleman had called his Father than night, the night he had dreamt about. He began to chuckle to himself as he reached down and picked up the knife. Sisera, despite his age and his martial abilities and his magic, could still not even begin to touch his Father.
"Heh, sorry, you reminded me of my Father. He would be very amused by this whole scenario" With a sudden movement his robe had dropped to the floor, showing the clothes underneath and more of the burns and scars that wrapped around his arms. He looked at the knife and thought of Baldrik and his scars, despite what Sisera said to him, those scars that Baldrik was born with... meant nothing. Fate simply handed him those scars, he did not willingly earn them. Perhaps the same could be said of his own marks. He had sacrificed for Kouri, he would never deny himself that. But did he ever have any control over it in the first place, were these burns his? Or Typhon simply marking his property.
That last thought was rage-inducing and in one quick motion he planted the dagger into his shoulder, the wound itself wasn't awful but the pain: Sisera was on his knees in an instant. It felt like hurricane after hurricane crashing into a boulder that crumbled away, and Sisera was the boulder. He gritted his teeth and endured it and with a gasp pulled it out and threw it at Marcus's feet.
"Ngggh, I-if that wasn't enough for you than come over here and do it yourself." He leaned against the wall and put his hand over the bloodied wound. Looking at Marcus under his hood.
"I-I know my own mind better than anyone else. I know that my body... my e-everything is not what it used to be. M-maybe I should have ended it all when the seal weakened, those few years ago. A quick release from this w-would have been a good choice for me."
He panted and gasped out as the lingering feeling of pain started to settle in. Still, he didn't break eye contact with Marcus.
"But I didn't, and I don't know why. I-i had nothing to live for. I thought... I thought she had died. But something kept me going, I don't know what... but I couldn't do it, I couldn't end it."
He broke contact with Marcus as he squeezed his eyes tight, he was beginning to will the pain away.
"But if for a moment I thought I would ever harm that woman: That woman that I've known since she was five days old. The woman whose hand I held every day when she was a little girl, the woman who filled me with pride when she became so skilled with magic, using the basics I taught her. The woman who I read stories too and laughed and played with."
He swallowed his pride, big lion tears slowly rolled down his cheek as he looked at Marcus
"If I ever thought I would hurt that girl I would have killed myself long before Typhon made me his plaything!"
There was a fire, something fierce and maybe even righteous behind those words. He quickly wiped the tears away and regained himself before looking at Marcus again with those steely, almost wolf-like eyes.
"So King's Ranger, are you going to kill me?"
"No." Marcus replies bluntly as he picks the throwing knife up off the ground. He looks it over, and shakes his head. "Do you think cutting yourself impresses me? Finding a cause to die for is easy, Sisera. Find something worth living for, without losing yourself in it, and I will be more impressed." He tucks the knife back under his cloak, and as he walks away, he speaks once more. "Go find a healer for your newest failure, and try not to get yourself killed so quickly... I believe that would hurt the princess more than you realize."
Sisera breathed heavily as he heard Marcus slowly leave the room, leaving him in the darkness with his thoughts. The bleeding had subsided significantly, though his hand was now covered with the stench of the stuff. With some discomfort he pushed himself up the wall to get back on his feet, he felt a little dizzy from the pain but he managed to find his footing. He reached down and picked up his robe and folded it in his arm as he shuffled out of the room, despite the bleakness of the room and the lonesome feeling of this dark sanctuary, he still had those wolf eyes. It would take him a while to process what Marcus's words meant.
He is right, failure and
garbage in between grinding cogs, that's you.
It took a while but he found two King's Rangers patrolling near the entrance. Sisera lied and told them it was a simple late night training accident. Both of them were highly aggravated with Sisera but nonetheless assisted him in finding one of their own who had healing capabilities. Waking him up in the middle of the night prompted a fury of curses but he nonetheless patched Sisera up, When Sisera tried to repay him with the last of his coin the healer had simply waved him away and told him to "piss off".
Sisera had no desire to go back to sleep, he was wide awake after his confrontation with Marcus. Grabbing his walking stick and covering himself up with his robe he walked to the entrance of their sanctuary, a few King's Rangers were stationed there. When he expressed a desire to stay and watch the sunrise they simply shrugged their shoulders and allowed it as long as he kept within their sights. He laid down and looked up at the stars, he tried to remember all the constellations he would point out to Kouri, but none came. He could no longer remember them anymore.
A Meeting on the Stairs LiWei (Soulless) and Kasienka (Seba)
LiWei stepped by Kasienka as she stepped up the stairs- he himself stepping down from his interesting encounter earlier. He paused and glanced at her from the side of his eye, before smiling in polite gesture. "Excuse me, lovely miss, would you spare a moment? I believed we have not been introducing yet."
Kasienka had just stepped to the stair one above LiWei's, and turned to face him when she heard him speak. She returned the smile then extended her hand. "Kasienka Ellarion, gentle sir."
LiWei turned to meet her and he took her hand, gently, as if he thought her fragile. He brought the hand to his lips, where he delivered a chaste kiss onto the back before letting go. "Zhong LiWei. LiWei is my first name." He's got his bandages round his forearms and forelegs, wrists and ankles, through they are oddly clean of any blood or pus. He smiled up to her and there was no pain in his expression. "Are you an... elf? I apologize, I am from distant lands... Where is it you are going? I would like to walk you partway, if you would grace me favor."
"Yes I am, Sir Zhong. It's no secret that you are not from these lands, you have no need to apologize." She had laughed good naturedly, but the smile from her laugh had not left Kasienka's lips. "I was walking nowhere in particular, but if you should like to simply talk a walk through the establishment we may." She turned to begin climbing the stairs again. She knew there was nothing interesting below.
LiWei joined her, staying by her side but keeping his distance to a comfortable level. "That would be nice, I think. Though perhaps avoid the grounds, I think some people went sparring there. It may look somewhat funny, woman and man walking together alone," he smiled, joking. "Is it true the elf lives very long? You must be quite wise..."
She laughed at his joke, shaking her head a little. She walked along slowly with the foreigner, delicately folding her hands in front of her stomach as they progressed. "We live for longer than most, yes. We can hardly remember anything about anything, though. Unless we want to remember it. I remember Renalta falling, I know I was near, but I cannot remember Kouri. I cannot remember my every day. I cannot remember every face. I know not where my homeland is."
"That sounds like it could be lonely... and a bit sad, to forget so easily happy memories." He waits to read her response to his phrasing before pursing- in case it was a sore spot, he could talk about something else.
"We are commonly known as the Tragedy Race. It is our load to bear for our long lives. I am happy to continue roaming the common lands and curing their children and families. Our own children are infamously weak to all illnesses, and any of the ones you can name would readily kill them. Once we leave, we are forbidden to return. I don't know what my homeland is like, so I can't miss it. I haven't run into one of my kind for over a century, and my compatriot has since passed due to nothing short of their own stupidity and misfortune." Her voice softened toward the end, but then she sighed and put a smile back on her face. "I feel that I do more good out here than I could at home, especially since I could find a way to save our children."
LiWei watched, listened attentively with the occasional noise of verification. He then slowly reached over and touched her shoulder, hesitantly, then again with more confidence. A gentle, almost-there patting. "You are so generous with your sorrow. You are very strong to continue, knowing what you bear and still smiling, doing good. I wish only half your courage some days." He smiles. "The other days, just a quarter. I am sure on this journey you will find what you seek- we are going to face the gods after all."
"Is it strong when I am capable of simply forgetting all that might have once hurt me? So long that I refuse to think of it, it will slip away. It is easy to forgive." She didn't refuse his touches, but she did not motion to return them in the slightest, or even acknowledge them. "The gods are the ones who gave this to my race. I doubt that they will reconsider, even if I was to bring the matter to their faces... assuming all of them have faces." She felt no need to dive deeper into the details of her race, and instead Kasienka waved off the compliment.
LiWei nodded and pulled his hand away after a moment. "I think it is strength, to acknowledge as it is and be open to it. It would be easier to save face and say nothing to anyone about it." He pauses, and thinks a bit, to change the conversation. "Have you ever heard of magic that makes a life, in your long and wise journeys?"
His question stopped Kasienka in her steps. They were in a hallway so she spun to face LiWei, "Creating life and bringing life back to those who have been dead, no matter how recently, is a dark, dark act. Everything in this world has some semblance of balance, and none more so than life. To make life you must destroy life in some way." The voice which she used was one she hadn't made in over a decade. She hadn't needed it. The situation had never been as dire.
"The gods meant to keep these powers to themselves, but we mortals are a pesky lot..." She tried to lighten the mood, smiling again and almost giggling. "And we keep a balance of our own. Those who play as a god are typically given the death they were toying with when it came to others."
LiWei's gaze became serious as the explanation followed. So James... was either a dark man or a dishonest one. But he gave his word, and perhaps the situation wasn't so simple. He thought it was just another illusion of his. He was just glad that she didn't ask him why he was wondering. "Ah... I understand. Thank you for explaining." He nodded. "It is wise that humans keep balance. It is an important thing where I am from, harmoniously with all things. Does the balance also come about for healing as well- you being a healer, yes?"
"Balance finds a way into everything that we do. I believe that if you were to look at Princess Kouri close enough you'll find an abundance of balances which she currently struggles with. Magic exacts its balance from me whenever I knit flesh back together or eradicate a disease from the body. I feel fatigue and depending on the severity I can ache and bring myself to the brink of losing consciousness. I have been remarkably careful as of late, but young mages often make dangerous mistakes.
"When I heal without magic... It can be hard. Blood can be lost as I repair other areas, or a fever can ravage a body longer and do it harm while I treat the ailments to the point of being able to attack the cause head on. It's not easy, but I always pursue it." She felt as if her language did not do her tasks Justice, but at the same time it was the best explanation she had at off the top of her head.
"Hm. I understand. Is it possible to teach a person magic? Surely if you are injured, or are exhausted, it would help that someone else can also do some healing in order to nurse you back to health at least." He smiles.
Kasienka found the question stumping her, and she pursed her lips. "Yes, but it takes quite some time and effort. It doesn't come naturally to many, and there are terrible mistakes that could be made." She stopped in the hall they had been traversing and smiled at LiWei all the same. "I appreciate the honor fo the request, however. If you truly wish for me to teach you, we could begin at a later date."
"I would like that, if you were so generous, lovely miss Ellarion." He stopped as she did, watching her. "I think, if the journey is long, there can be much time to teach and learn from each other many things."
She nodded slowly then sighed and looked around to try and judge where they were in the keep. "Yes, but magic is no small talent which one can learn in one year, or even five. It would have to be quite the journey."
"I understand. Perhaps it is not fate to do so, then." He nodded. "In that case, I will ask of you one very big favor."
Now this had Kasienka wary. "Ask and I will consider it."
"If there is a fight, I would humbly ask to stay close. Preferable behind me. This crew cannot lose you, I think. You are a good, kind spirit and the world is dark and sad. I think it may become darker if anything happened to you."
Kasienka laughed at his request. "Oh, is that all? After having lived as long as I have I know all too well how to stay alive. I appreciate your concern, dear sir, but I know better than to get too close to the fray. I am far more dangerous from afar than I could ever be up close." She touched the top of her bow case, which was still across her back like her quiver. "If I must use my talents for gathering food or saving my life, I'd rather the dearly departed not know my location."
"Makes sense. In that case, do you think you could also take the royal highness Kouri with you if things make worst turns, as well?" He smiled a bit at her laugh. A good, confident woman who didn't turn to abject arrogance and snark was always a nice sight to see in these times. "I do apologize for my earlier disrespecting of your skills." He adds, politely.
"No disrespect taken, do not worry yourself. If it gets to the point where I would fear for the Princess's life despite her abilities, I will bring her with me. She comes first at this moment."
"Good. As it should be." He nodded. "You are correct. Do you have any opinions on anyone else you've met on the journey so far? I would appreciate your wisdom."
Kasienka shrugged and started down the hall again, enjoying the feeling of the cool floor on her feet. "I have hardly talked with anyone aside from Mikan. She's a delightful young person, but young all the same. There is only so much wisdom such a young body can possess."
LiWei followed. "If you prefer a more mature personality, have you considering that mister Hanus Wolfblood? He, is also one that ages long." He doesn't offer his own opinion of people he's met. "You were talking with him in storage I think?"
Kasienka again laughed, shaking her head. "I was talking to him in order to get the supplies I think the party would enjoy most. He seems to be an interesting man, but I will talk to just about anyone."
"You think quite much of others. I only hope the group will appreciate it... or prove to be quite as thoughtful."
She smiled and gave a one-shouldered shrug, "I never do something in order to receive gratitude. I do it because it is the kind thing to do. Being malicious takes too much energy."
"Too much energy... you may be right." LiWei smiled back. "But, what would happen if others argued that, it is too much energy to be kind?"
She shrugged her other shoulder. "I would simply argue that I have lived longer than they out of a use of more kindness than malice. If they have lived longer than me maliciously, I will entertain their argument."
He laughed. "Fair enough. Respect of elders is important. I think I shall find a place to lay my head. Would you like me to accompany you to your room at least?"
"I think I will wander around for a bit longer. Don't you worry about me. I believe we're in the safest place we could possibly be right now." She smiled then again extended her hand to the man, preparing to leave. "I will see you in the morning."
LiWei shakes, his touch still as if he could harm her. "Yes. Good night, miss."
Pat and Dean - A discussion over food. (A Colab with @Orion )
Pat had followed along on the journey to the rangers base telling himself he was just curious to know the truth. he hadn't spoken more than a few words in passing to anyone along the way, acting more like the quiet child that followed the louder more boisterous children in a village but few people ever took much notice of. This had not changed after they reached the hill and observed the test that came. Once the ceremony was compete and the woman who claimed to be the princess lost for 1000 years was vindicated, Pat had, in his more typical diligent fashion, stabled Jess with the horses and other beasts the Rangers kept for riding and pulling wagons. It seemed he was going to be at the ranger base for the night at least, the one thing he could agree with Jess on though as he removed her saddle and groomed her was that it was time to get some food. And so he made sure Jess had some feed to tide her over and headed for the dining halls the ranger captain had mentioned.
Pat restricted himself to water as he sat to eat the food that had been prepared, his mind flitting from one thing to anther as he tried to sort out the events of the last day and what he was going to do about them. he was clearly a man lost in thought to outside observers, he ate mechanically, took a drink periodically and seemed to stare at nothing for long moments in between.
Dean had left the training room rather abruptly after Marcus and he had it out. He felt sticking around might draw unwanted attention from anyone that might have seen the episode, and so he had been wandering since then. Unsure what to do with himself, he decided to grab a quick meal. He counted himself lucky there was at least some kind of brew to have with whatever it was they were serving.
Then came sitting. While he had no real quarrel sitting on his own, there was still a large number of people from the pond he'd yet to meet. He scanned the room briefly trying to find a familiar face. The search proved fruitless at first, until one such face leapt put at him. Dean had heard of a man named the Postman, usually through distressed villagers asking if he'd seen the man, and if their precious cargoes had been plundered. He casually walked over to the table the man was sitting at. "Mind if I join you?"
Pat blinked at the words, as if only hearing them a few moments after they were spoken, before looking up at the man he'd briefly seen jump into the pond upon his arrival in the clearing. "Uh, sure, no problem." Pat replied as he waved to the seat nearest dean before taking another mouthful of food. Pat waited for dean to be seated and swallowed his food before he spoke again. "I don't think we've formally met, I'm Pat Quinn."
Dean began eating whatever stew it was he had taken. He looked up to Pat as he spoke and cleared his throat. He chuckled slightly and gestured towards him with his spoon. "Y'know with a hundred yard stare like you just had, I'm not too shocked that you haven't heard of me. Though I..." he said casually jutting his thumb into his chest. "Have heard of you good sir Postman, and this doesn't seem your scene. What's brought you into this shindig?"
"Coincidences, and I'll admit to some measure of curiosity." Pat replied as he took a swallow of water. "I was retuning from a delivery to one of the border towns and ran Samuel, that foreign magic fellow with the horned creature for a mount. He felt something from the direction of the pond and I just sort of followed along since Jess needed a drink anyway." he took a small bite of his food and swallowed it before he continued. "I'm still not entirely sure what was happening at the pond but I was curious to see if the legend was true. Now... I'm not sure I know why I'm here myself."
"Well no one could blame you for being curious. A woman pranced out of a pond and claims to be a Princess of Legend, and later it turns out she actually is. Seems a well placed interest in seeing things play out." He paused with a bite of food in his mouth, and managed to mutter out his name with the spoon in his mouth, while extending his hand toward the other man.
Pat grasped deans hand and shook with a grip free of callouses and stronger than the Postmans job would typically account for. "Seems I know of you after all, you're the boy Ryker apprenticed right? I'd have thought you would be younger from the way he's spoken of you on occasions I've had a parcel for him."
Pat might notice that Dean's expression became quite sombre at the mention of his apprenticeship, drawing forward the open wound that was Marcus' insult. He sat quietly, toying with his stew. "Heh, yeah, that would be me. Kind of hard to imagine him speaking too much about me."
"I got the impression you'd tried his patience to wits end more than once. 'stubborn ass' was the way I heard you described the last I saw Ryker a few months ago. Like most teenagers with a teacher I suppose." Pat replied with a half smile.
Dean simply looked at his bowl. A frown formed on his face, and he looked to Pat. "Yeah, I guess that sounds about right." he said, cracking a smile as he admitted to being a bit of a nuisance.
"If even half the stories I've heard about Ryker are true though, I'm sure you're a good student dispite it. I doubt the man would have kept you on otherwise, he's not one to suffer fools so I hear." Pat said, his smile on of genuine warmth.
"You're kind to say that. Too kind I'd say. How do you cut a living in the world anyway? World isn't a safe place, and the roads are possibly less so."
Pat laughed lightly at the question before answering. "Jess mostly. The best way to avoid a fight is to not be there. Helps having people that know me in every town in the remnants too."
Dean looked as if he were about to say something, but shrugged instead, not interested in arguing or questioning the man's methods. "I suppose if you've made it this far you must have your own way of doing things. Have you sworn eternal allegiance to the Princess yet?"
Pat grimaced at the question. "Can't say I have, part of the reason I was lost in thought when you came over." Pat said before feeling the need to take another swallow of his water. "Everyone else here seems to have something the Princess would find of use. most appear to be warriors of one stripe or another, others from the seedier side of life with their own tangible skills and the rest would appear to be magic casters." Pat added before leaning back in his chair and sighing softly. "Where does a simple postman fit into all that?"
"I don't know..." Dean said while trying to decide where he fit into Pat's assessment of the others. Certainly he wasn't squeaky clean, but it would have been a stretch to call himself a warrior. With another bite of his stew he continued. "But I'd say the real question is, do any of us really fit in with a Princess of legend?" Dean felt he was twisting a knife in an open wound the way he was more or less agreeing with what Marcus had just so recently said, but he felt this way the best form of venting available. "Again I have no idea. Maybe it boils down to changing how you see yourself? Start by realising you're more than just 'a simple Postman' you said it yourself, you know people. Maybe you know the right people to help when she needs you the most?"
"You might be right." Pat said with resignation "Though once we leave the remnants even that goes out the window. I've never really travelled beyond the border towns after all." Pat picked at the last few pieces of meat on his plate for a moment before spearing them on his fork. "Perhaps I should see if I have any aptitude for anything else before we leave, wouldn't want to feel like a burden to anyone." he said before popping the fork into his mouth.
"I'm only too sure you'll find something to make yourself immensely useful to the Princess." Dean replied.
"I'm not sure about immensely, but we'll see I suppose." Pat said in response. "What of yourself, you seemed fairly close to it all coming out of the lake as you did, will you be sticking around?"
Dean sighed and leaned back from the table. "Guess it's my turn to be unsure. Can't say I get along very well with some of the people I've met today, and the thought of travelling with them fills me with a special kind of dread."
"Can't say I have much experience there, aside from my younger years with my father most of my travelling is done alone, faster that way. So travelling with a group that's not family will be taking some getting used to." Pat said before pausing for another drink. "What of the Princess though, do you think these people that cause you dread might be a problem for her?"
"Near as I can tell a couple of them are already well within her good graces, not that I mind y'know? She's free to accept help from wherever she can, who can fault her for that." he leans back into the table and finishes off the remainder of his meal. "I of course I can't be sure, maybe they grate her patience as much as they do mine."
"Maybe they do." Pat replied as he finished up his own food. "It seems we both have some considering to do. Either way, what happens from here is likely to go down in the history books, seems like something worth seeing at least."
Dean considered Pat's words are he started on whatever it was that passed for brew among the Rangers, it was... Not pleasant. "Worth seeing? Aye you might make a case for that, but if there's one question Ryker has taught me to ask before setting out on anything it's this: Is it worth dying for?"
"Wouldn't know yet, haven't seen enough of it. Regardless I don't plan to die any time soon." Pat answered.
Dean shrugs and laughs lightly at Pat's optimism "The way I see it, you join the Princess and you join the fight. The fight in this case is against Gods and angels, I guess from there you decide for yourself. You've got a good attitude going into this though. I'm sure that counts for something."
"Maybe." Pat replied. "Well, baths were mentioned as I recall. Its been some time since I've been able to treat myself to more than a cold wash so I might just go an indulge a little. Might need to stop by that supply room too, long travels is something I know a thing or two about and I know I don't have enough in my saddlebags for more than a couple of days atm." Pat added as he stood up.
"Well then I suppose I'll be seeing you later." he said as he mimed tipping a hat in farewell. "Make the most of what they've got. Bleed 'em dry."
"Until later." Pat replied with a slight nod of his head.
Rahim and Marcus Part II, Electric Boogaloo.
(Featuring @Brovo)
{ * }
After all was said and done, Rahim was almost disappointed by the strange affair he witnessed. After so much venom had been tossed around, and after so much qualms had been made about her suitability to lead; Rahim had expected the Commander to more vehemently disapprove of her legitimacy. Instead, he rolled over like a cowed kitten. Rahim shrugged off his thoughts though. He would have plenty of time to see if blood was a thick enough glue for a group. At least Rahim's opinions of Kouri were unchanged. She was still the same ice-shaman from the lake who had rallied a half-dozen people into following her without much effort. If she also happened to be very old? So what. Age wouldn't make her more or less worthy in the eyes of the spirits.
Rahim listened to the various figures talking, happy enough to be quiet and listen. A few options were given for now, as Kouri asked for time to recover and grieve. Rahim didn't much have need of a storage room; because he had hunted earlier. That left him sparing, bathing, or sleeping. The former appealed the least, until Marcus offered himself up. Rahim had found that he had often struggled with the whole…etiquette of sparing in his time as a mercenary. He either tried too little, or he broke people. There were a few in the group who seemed promising for actual tests of strength and of combat; and Marcus was certainly one of them.
Rahim asked for directions to the training area, and soon found himself in the would-be arena. While he waited for Marcus to arrive, Rahim just leaned against the wall, the head of his axe pointed towards the ground as he looked around the hall, waiting silently and patiently.
Eventually, Marcus arrived. Rahim approached the Tiefling with his axe in hand, pouting. "I will take you up on your offer."
Marcus glances at Rahim, and raises an eyebrow. "Trying to prove your worth to a female, or yourself?" He asks, aware of at least some of the amazon's culture.
"Neither." Rahim said in reply. His face remained as still and unchanging as a rock. "For now, I just want to compare myself to other fighters."
"To yourself then." Marcus replies bluntly as he motions to one of the chalk arenas. This one was thirty square feet in size. He motions to a half-elf King's Ranger, who quickly explains the rules, as he looked to be growing tired of it. "I have a coin, when you hear it hit the ground, you fight. If a bone is broken, or you can't fight anymore, you lose. You also lose if you tap your hand on the ground three times in quick succession, or if you get thrown out of the arena. Got it? Good. Pick a wooden weapon from that rack: We don't kill each other here." Marcus looks at Rahim, waiting for him to pick a weapon.
Rahim's eyebrow rose slightly at Marcus' blunt declaration. A twinge of anger boiling in the Amazon's gut. He did not like it that someone assumed to know Rahim better than he did. Rahim didn't say anything in reply though. Words were worthless here. He would never achieve his goals by talking them down.
Rahim nodded at the Half-elf's explanation, as he walked to the outskirts of the chalked off area, and lay his axe reverently on the ground. After a moment, Rahim walked over to the weapon rack. There were a few items of varying size; wooden swords and staffs, mock-axes and shields, daggers, and clubs, and cudgels, and even a few shapes of weapon he didn't recognise. He reached down to pick up a large axe-shaped piece of wood and gripped the handle. It wasn't great, but it would suffice. After that, he walked over to one of the circle's edges; waiting for Marcus to select his weapon, and then for the literal penny to drop.
Marcus grabs a practice blade from the shelf, and glances at Rahim with a raised eyebrow. "Do you wish to try this with my armour on, or off?"
"No one else will offer me that luxury, why would I ask it of you?" Rahim gave the mock-axe a swing, a powerful swing. His anger was prickled once more by the insinuation that he'd need such a boon. Did this Marcus think him incompetent? Did he think that he knew Rahim's power because he happened to know of his heritage? A second, more powerful swing had Rahim more at ease with the surrogate weapon. He looked at the Half-elf, waiting for him to drop the coin. His stance was lowered as if by instinct; and he locked eyes with Marcus, ready to surge forward and be the aggressor.
Marcus brings his blade to a defensive position, grasping the handle with both hands, as he narrows his eyes toward Rahim's arms. The half-elf flips the coin, and it clearly sounds off the match as it strikes the stone beneath their feet.
Rahim's eyes narrow as he lurches forward with a sudden focus. Closing the thirty feet as quickly as he can, Rahim swings around a violent arcing cleave; aiming for the Tiefling's midriff. For now, Rahim was trying to use his weapon's range as an advantage. The larger mock-axe would have advantage over the sword in that regard.
Marcus watches the axe swing carefully, and turns his blade only slightly so as to block the blow. He then hooks his guard against the back side of the axe, and lets go of his blade with one of his hands so as to allow him to grab Rahim's arm. He then, in one swift motion, swings Rahim overtop of himself, grunting from the weight, but safe to retaliation thanks to his armour. Rahim then falls on his back, and though he managed to keep hold of his axe, he had fallen out of the arena.
"Never swing to the side against a blade with an axe when your opponent is your equal in strength. Swing from below, deny his attempts to stab at out you, and close the gap to use your heavier weapon to smash at his head." He offers a hand to him. "Again?"
Rahim grunts in surprise at the ease with which his attack was reflected. He had underestimated the Tiefling, and as he felt his arm be grabbed and his legs relieved of their position on the ground. The sound of air escaping his lungs as he hit the floor outside of the chalk circle was like a blaring horn of defeat to the Amazon. He looked up at Marcus as he offered his words, and then his hand. Rahim ponders for a second, then reaches up to grab it. "Again." He says, as he pulls himself up and half-walks, half-skips towards his previous position. A surge of energy was washing through him; a certain excitement that sometimes washed over him in real fights. He looked over at Marcus, and then the Half-elf as he lowered his stance again, rolling his shoulders as his heart began to pump faster and louder in his ears. He was ready this time.
Marcus tosses aside his wooden blade and motions for a wooden staff instead. The half-elf ranger tosses it to him, and then picks his coin up off the ground, getting ready to toss it once more. "Ready, Amazon?"
Rahim's composure seemed to falter for a moment when Marcus called out to him. His face twisted into a low snarl as he responded. "I have a name. Rahim is ready." Noticing the change of weapon, Rahim twirled the axe in his hands. He was hungry for the battle to begin.
The half-elf ranger tosses the coin in the air, and it strikes the ground, ringing out that the fight had begun. Marcus starts walking toward Rahim, gripping his staff tightly, a neutral expression clearly across his face.
Rahim moved forward again, leaping into action as he pushed into Marcus' zone of influence. He made a massive show of an overhead slash; wanting Marcus to try and use the staff to hook mock-axe's head with his staff so that Rahim could then yank it back with all his might. His weapon should give him more leverage, and his strength should be much greater than Marcus'. If all went well and good, he'd follow through with a massive clothesline to the Tiefling, aiming to slam him into the ground with one massive blow.
The show would slow Rahim down. It was meant to grab Marcus' attention, and sadly, he knew that as he stepped aside and took one solid swing at the back of Rahim's right knee, striking it as he recovers from his pseudo-blow. Rahim's knee buckles and he falls to one knee, and Marcus moves to finish him off with a strike to the neck, though Rahim is able to switch his axe strike to block it. Marcus' staff bounces off, though Marcus doesn't back off.
Rahim grunts under the assault on his knee, but manages a meagre defence through more instinct than fore-thought. Grunting as he rose to his feet, Rahim found himself refusing to back down. He pushed forward, moving as close into Marcus as he could before jabbing the head of the axe at the Tiefling's gut from as close as he could. The staff would be difficult to manoeuvre up so close, surely this was his chance.
Marcus lowers his staff to block the blow headed for his gut, and taking advantage of Rahim's position below him, he swings his armoured knee around the deadlocked weapons and into the side of Rahim's head, sending him falling to the ground. "Tsk." As Rahim falls, Marcus slams the end of his staff against Rahim's fingers, sending his Axe out of his hands. A crack informed both that Marcus broke one of his fingers in the process. Marcus then positions the end of the staff at Rahim's throat. "Better." Marcus replies. "However, your opponent is armoured. Going for a cheap shot to his gut with anything less than a mace, or piercing attack, means little to me. Still, you have proven a competent warrior." Marcus nods his head respectfully. "Mend your finger. I look forward to travelling with you."
Rahim felt the defeat of being outmanoeuvred, and the indignation of being chastised like a child. The powerlessness of it all washed away the building anger, and only the sudden sensation of a broken finger kept the dull flickers of rage from burning out. He almost continued fighting; and would have, if Rahim did not all but declare it over. It was clear the Tiefling was done with this exchange, and a loser had no place asking more from a victor. The tribe would have it no other way. "I…" he said, and found himself faltering. He had not been so thoroughly undone in quite a while, and Rahim felt the bitterness swell in the back of his throat. Taking a moment, Rahim sat still on the ground, ignoring the dull throb of his broken finger. Shaking his head, Rahim threw out the darker thoughts, and rose to stand up. "I am thankful for this lesson. I think I needed it."
Marcus notices Rahim's changing expressions, and quietly but firmly places his hand on Rahim's shoulder. "I will be honoured to travel with you. You already show great promise in the rising sun of your years, where I am at the twilight. If you had another twenty years of age at your side, I have no doubt you would be better than I."
Rahim pauses, then nods. "I appreciate the words, but we do not have twenty years to wait. I must become stronger now, or I am as good as dead weight." Rahim looks around the room, glancing at the Half-elf with a confused glance. "Should I ask him about healing?"
Marcus motions to a healer, who was simply leaning on a nearby wall. He looked like any other King's Ranger to Rahim, though, it was likely they all knew each other to some extent. "He will mend your injuries. You will improve, Rahim. You have the fire to do so."
Baldrik could only bear himself to smile deeply as the stick that'd prove her legitimacy lit up as bright as the sun: proving once and for all that he, along with Markus, had been correct all along. He made a mental taunt towards everyone else in that room that had doubted him- Dean specifically- and after doing so, decided that a match of sparring was exactly what he needed to get his anxiety out of his system: Nothing like a good fight that'd rinse his body of this kind of hatred. Now, out of everyone that was in the room: Baldrik decided to get a warm-up session with the girl that had told him to 'impress her'. "Well, gal, it's not a matter of luck as much as a matter of who can take-and-receive. So my question now is: Are you capable of doing either?" By the rather cherishful tone in his voice, it seems that he's rather excited for a fight.
Mikan whirls around at the sight of Baldrick, and having already fought two other people, she grins ear to ear to see yet another challenger vying for her. "I can hit it n' run, that's for sure." She motions to an arena outlined in chalk in the middle of the training room: Fifty square feet in size. A Half-Elf Ranger looks at the two and stares up at the ceiling, sighing in irritation. "Oh, again, with the thief girl, and her innuendos?" Mikan giggles and shrugs. "Just tell em' the rules and toss me the wooden dagger I had before." He grabs a wooden dagger off the rack, but seems to intentionally pick one different than the one Mikan was looking at. He then looks at Baldrick, and speaks with an almost bored tone of voice, though it seems to turn more interested at the sight of the strange shape of his arm. "The rules are simple, and threefold. If one of your bones are broken or you can't fight anymore, you lose. If you tap the floor three times with your hand, in rapid succession, you lose. If you get thrown out of the arena," he motions to the chalk outline of the fifty square feet, "you lose. You may pick any training weapon you wish off the rack here. They're all made out of high quality wood. We have axes, swords, spears, staffs, and any other melee weapon one can reasonably replicate out of wood. Choose your weapon, enter the arena, and I will toss a coin. When the coin hits the ground, the match begins. Any questions?"
Baldrik looked over towards the person that explained the rules, and then quickly took a glance over towards the wooden weaponry that he was going to pick. While he had planned on having some form of a musket to aid him: noticing that he would lose one of his primary weapons to this kind of saddened him. Actually: He would lose both of his weaponries. He could only sigh, and put aside his Musket and his family heirloom, placing them outside the chalked out area. Well, as much as he felt his weaponry was heavily limited, given that the firing of gunpowder was taken away from him, however given that this was what was provided to him: and he didn't really want to murder his comrades in cold blood, he decided that taking a wooden spear would be as close to as having a musket with a bayonett on it as possible. Baldrik took ahold of the wooden spear that'd be his main weapon, and tightened his grip on it. "Well, as we say in the North: Inga frågor, förutom det som kommer efter. (No questions, except what comes afterwards)"Baldrik tightened his grip on his wooden spear and stepped into the fighting square. Well, time to make a break... It seems that since she's still standing, even though she had been defeated at the hands of Amaia. He had to stay cool, and remember that even though she's very small in size, that made her very agile. He'd have to try and corner her if he was to ever stand a chance against her.
The half-elf looks between them, then pulls a coin out of his pocket. Mikan giggles and winks at Baldrick as she flourishes the wooden dagger in her hand. The ranger then tosses the coin, and as it strikes the ground, Mikan walks a few steps, casually and slowly, toward Baldrick. She, however, remained firmly out of the reach of his spear. "I hope you aren't submissive, that would be so... Boring." She says with a salacious glint in her eyes.
Well... that's one way to put it. Baldrik wasn't really too intent on that kind of 'business' when he was considering to duel her like this... he'd have to make sure to duel that other fighter to get this out of his system. He tightened his grip on the spear and began to think of his training. Be the assaultant. Don't be the assaulted. Baldrik put his feet in a triangle-manner, and responded to her "Pardon to tell you this, ma'am, but I've yet to try anything of such nature." Suddenly, he barked out in his native tongue "Gå På! (Go On)" and began to march up against her, his spear pointed directly over towards her stomach area as he jolted forwards with the spear- trying to strike her abdomen and then quickly pull back to ensure that she (atleast to his mind) wouldn't be able to instantly ambush him by dodging the spear.
Mikan looked with some measure of confusion at his stance, easily manage to step back to avoid the spear lunging toward her stomach. She giggles and flourishes her wooden dagger, then, as he recoils the spear, she spots an easy opening. She throws her wooden dagger, and though Baldrick is easily able to see it coming from her telegraphed moves prior to the throw, he is forced to let go of his spear with one hand in order to block it, giving Mikan the opportunity to brush it aside and tackle him straight to the ground.
Baldrick isn't pinned particularly effectively, though he loses his spear and Mikan loses her dagger. She lays on top of him and presses her arm to his throat. "You know, there's always time for new experiences... Like losing to a thief."
Baldrik was quickly put flat on his ass by the thief- specifically given that she had outmaneuvered him like a god damn pro. Of course, given that she wasn't necessarily putting that much weight on him, he cooked up a plan to get a grip on the situation at hand. Her flirtatious attitude only sparked up a smile from him on the other hand, and sure made him more determined not to lose to her. That and given the fact that he was going to protect the future of Renalta, he couldn't play as horrible as he was right now... But then again, a spar isn't directly done only to be won, right? It's also done for fun... he remembered when he and his mother would often spar off against each other, even though Baldrik always knew he'd lose: just because it was fun. Either way, his throat was getting a bit anxious over having an arm constricting where and when he could breath, so he decided to talk back a bit. "Ngh, well- that's very true. But I tend to turn things upside down." And as he finished his sentence, he quickly placed his right arm over her left side and tried to forcefully force her to be turned to the other side, his legs trying to hook onto hers to ensure that she wouldn't be able to escape. If succesful, he'd also try to just keep her pinned down loosely, after all: he had no intention to try and actually hurt her so badly. Especially with her attitude about everything- it was quite refreshing, to say the least.
Mikan's eyes momentarily fall toward her legs, as she noticed Baldrick trying with a fair bit of futility to entwine them. Nonetheless, he's able to roll her so that he was on top. Though, only for a brief moment, as he rolls her, her legs slip up underneath his torso, and she pushes him off with her feet. Before Baldrick could conceive of another attack, Mikan taps the floor three times, and simply remains laying on her back for a moment. The half-elf ranger sighs and speaks with a degree of irritation. "And once again, Mikan loses." She shrugs and simply remains contently lying on the floor, breathing heavily. After multiple duels, she appeared to be finally getting tired.
Baldrik looked at her in complete and utter surprise as he hears the three taps on the floor. A quick look at her however confirmed what he was fearing. The duels definently weighted her down, and she was in no position to keep on fighting. That actually made Baldrik a bit saddened... he should've gone for that other fellow he was considering to spar with. But none the less, it was over now. "Well... I guess even with your stamina you can't last forever. It seems that you're... thoroughly, used up by everyone else."Baldrik let out a quick session of minor laughters as he laid off to the side for a bit. Not really seeing a point in moving his fat arse off the arena yet he decided to stay there for a bit extra. "So... Mm. Sorry. Wasn't the most honorable of intentions to challenge someone that was already that exhausted." Baldrik added upon his previous statement.
"Oh, I knew what I was getting into." Mikan spoke softly, closing her eyes momentarily before the half-elf walks over to her and nudges her in the side. "Make space for others to practice. This isn't a bed for you." Mikan opens one eye and looks out at the ranger. "Awh. I guess not." She rolls to her feet and, though she was still catching her breath, she still seemed remarkably steady and dexterous. "Now the question is if you want to see me again later, when we're both a little fresher... Wouldn't want to pay a visit where I'm not wanted." Mikan winked as she spoke, though there was some genuine twinkle of interest in her eyes. It seemed she was trying to figure out who would want time with her, and who would pass her over.
"Uh.." Baldrik looked over Mikan for a second as he began to push himself up from the floor, and was left more or less blank in the face for a few seconds as he tried to break down what she was saying. Wait... is this another flirt attempt?! Baldrik's face lit up quite a bit due to this, and backed up for a second. Patience... remember, be patient and stay cool. The color red began to fade away from Baldrik's face as he let out a pust of air from his lungs. "Well. I'd have no trouble seeing you again later. But if it's... during the night and in the same bed, I'd have to re-think that. That and... well, I shed my skin at night."
That last part seemingly coming out of no where, until Baldrik beaconed for his right arm. His skin didn't necessarily only shed at night, but he sure did need some time as of this moment to think about how Mikan could be this exhausted, and yet think about those kind of things constantly. Was she just naturally this active? Hell, Baldrik had never even kissed a girl before and now meeting Mikan made Baldrik wonder if everyone in these lands are this frisky. Of course, Mikan could probably tell that Baldrik was debating with himself, as he appeared rather nervous as of this moment, his eyes skittering about a bit left and right as he tried to take it all in properly.
Mikan glances at Baldrick's right arm, and raises her eyebrows with surprise. "Oh! Well, that doesn't bother me at all, really!" She then looks to his eyes, and seeing the indecision, she takes a deep breath and sighs, then stretches out her arms. "Well, that's fine. We'll have plenty of time to get to know each other I'll bet. Don't rush it." She starts walking away, her hands behind her head. "Course, if you change your mind, you just have to find me." A playful giggle leaves her lips as she looks around the room for any more potential... Candidates, of her affections.
"Aye. I'll be sure to let you know."Is all that Baldrik could hope to let out as she continued to look around for candidates. She worried Baldrik quite a lot now, when he was able to take a good look at her. It's as if she's eyeing everyone out as if they were morsels. Baldrik still felt a smile creep up on his face. He had not only gotten new allies so quickly, learnt some valuable life-lessons: He had also found Kouri. What was worse was the comments of his quest. He described it to those who asked as 'finding an lost-family member', but they always said it was a shot in the dark. Countless times had he been told that he'd never find it, that he should just settle down and have children, or get a proper job and 'not a fantasy one'. And yet, even through all of this, he had still found his life purpose again through the Messiah Kouri, safe guarding her for his life. Hers was more worthful than his own, after all. A pretty girl's face like Kouri reminded him of Mikan, and that he had held a conversation with her regarding how she could help him. He decided to atleast show that he appreciated it. Baldrik looked over towards Mikan once more, and said "But hey, Mikan. Thanks for the offer. I appreciate it." After all, it'd be rude to not atleast take her offer seriously, and appreciating her thought over him. Hell, he wondered a bit how she thought he was attractive enough to flirt so openly with him. The thought had made Baldrik unconciously rub his right arm gingerely, until suddenly a piece of his skin was ripped off from his right arm, revealing a bit more of an oily-skin underneath, the contact with the oxygen in the air making it appear red in color. After brightening up a bit, Baldrik seized to rub his arm and instead covered up the part that he had accidentally 'ripped' off.
LiWei must admit, the scene provided him moderate shock and mild horror. He had heard of such magic detection but he had never seen it for himself. Worse was the stark suspicion and hostility before the truth came out. He much preferred the relative friendliness, albeit with plenty of caution, of the small villages where he stayed. Perhaps it would be better to just go back and forget all this enemy of gods business.
But then again. He did have a night to consider it all. And what else would he be going back to? Living the life of an outsider for the rest of his days, running from his own blood where this woman embraced hers with more bravery than old legends? No. He would stay- he must stay. He would need some weapons, if only to look as if he just happened to be vulnerable and unarmed this whole time.
Once the ceremony was over, he listened and then went to follow Hanus to the main supply room. He walked brisk and casual but nonetheless hurriedly. "Excuse me, good sir. I am without any way to defend myself or the royal highness Kouri. May I accompany you and attempting to find something I can use?"
Hanus glances back at LiWei as he reaches the main supply room. He examines him with discerning eyes, and then simply nods as he opens the supply room and enters.
It contained a myriad number of supplies. Food, weapons, armour, cloaks--nothing of a magical nature, however. Save for a single rack carrying strange dark clothes, and three enchanted weapons, which Hanus moved for immediately to retrieve for himself.
Slipping into the supply room on silent steps, Tahlia quickly glanced around to take hold of the material gathered. For those who had seen her before, she was notably unaccompanied by the dire wolf on which she normally rode, leaving behind only a petite, but confident, woman.
Gracing LiWei with a cursory nod, she quickly made her way to the food store. "I'll be needing meat, and lots of it." She hesitated, looking at the enchanted weapons. "Is everything here ours to take? Assuming we accompany the Princess, of course."
"The man's already rationing food," Kalemn reminded the woman as she followed the others into the room. "And if it's for your pet, I hope it enjoys salted meat. Only way it'll last on a journey."
Hanus looks at Tahlia and shakes his head. "These are mine. Take what you need and worry not about food." He motions to an array of average looking weapons and armours, light and medium. Leather and chain mail were both present, even decent looking breast plates, but nothing beyond it. Nothing to make a full suit of armour like Marcus had.
"Thank you for your generosity, sir! I will have to repay the favor some time. Could you at least, inform what it is you are taking? I apologize, I am very curious..." LiWei hid his disappointment and examined some light armor instead- probably the leather will be at least functional, if only so that he could use the bandages as an excuse for chafing. Maybe. And to top it off, if he deflected a blow he could always chalk it up to having it bounce off his armor. He began to test some of the blades available for whatever felt right to him- it had been a while since he was trained in swordplay and he highly doubted the styles his father taught him had any real functionality in battle these days.
"Excuse me, Miss Tahlia, is the name? Where is your friend?" He spoke, more or less casually. Maybe asking questions would illuminate her relationship with the beast- did she tame it? Cast some mind control spell? Raise it like her own child- or perhaps it raised her? Ah, but so many questions at once would be terribly rude to a stranger.
Tahlia tested the weight of a rapier as she responded, clearly having no experience wielding such a weapon. "He's gone off to the training room, probably to blow off some tension." She smiled knowingly up at him. "We didn't really know what sort of welcome to expect. I didn't catch your name?"
"Zhong LiWei. LiWei is my name to call me. It is like give me lee way for the accent, as I am foreign. Is your friend, he can blow off tension without your, uh..." Crap. What was the word. "...looking?"
"Of course! He's no wild beast." She replaced the rapier from whence she's taken it, and started looking at the small-swords. "If anything, were someone to pick a fight with him, they're much better off without me present." As she fiddled with a scabbard, she winked at LiWei. "He's a little possessive."
As Hanus finishes putting on his chain mail, he listens to the two talking among themselves. A smile reaches his lips as he pulls away weapons which he holds with intimate familiarity. "I was a dark elf noble, with a long and venerated history." He took all three: A pair of throwing axes, and a bastard sword. All three of them had strange construction out of dark metals, seeming to match the hue of his ebony skin. LiWei and Tahlia both could feel something wrong about the weapons, of a subtle magical nature. "I believe we will learn more about each other as we travel. There is no need to reveal all my secrets to you yet."
Tahlia turned her smile towards him. "I'm not one to pry secrets from the unwilling, ranger Wolfblood. That being said, I do believe there is one name in this room that yet remains a mystery."
Feeling eyes upon her, Kalemn jolted to attention, wiping damp palms on her shirt. "What- oh. Sorry, name's Kalemn." She threw on a casual grin, moving over towards the stored swords. "And no noble blood for me. Or strange wolves, or foreign homes. Just a local sword for hire, looking for something new." Drawing her blade, she laid it out across her hands and inspected it. "That said, I'm here to grab a sword that isn't nicked enough to comb hair."
LiWei chuckled. "At least a sword that nicked would still prove useful to you..." he joked, referencing his own bald head. He felt satisfied with the knowledge that Tahlia's fearsome companion would probably not be eating him anytime soon. He picked his weapons and tested some more armor, careful that none of his bandages are moved as he did so. He nodded to Hanus- "Have you spoken to the good gentleman with a long name that began with Samuel and ended in fourth? He was the one attempting to woo her royal highness Kouri as we left. He is also nobility; perhaps you two may finding kindred spirit."
Hanus snorts at the notion. "Unlikely." Quietly, he watches the others, making sure they don't do something foolish, or steal something under his nose. He glances at Kalemn and raises an eyebrow. "Sword for hire finds limited work all the way out here."
"If I was getting solid work," Kalemn said, "I could afford to keep my sword in better shape." Leaning said sword against the wall, she picked up another of similar size and weight, testing the balance. "Not to surprise you, but we that don't come from money make do with what we can scrounge together."
"It is perhaps unwise to judge a man's path through life by the quality of his upbringing alone." Tahlia nods respectfully toward Hanus. "I'm sure his duties as a ranger have given him toil as challenging as any of us can lay claim to."
"But is a new change of life towards struggle something that can be related to a life that had always been that way?" LiWei asked, more in banter than actual philosophical musing.
Tahlia shrugged. "I'm not saying you have to pity the guy, but a little appreciation for his hospitality would not be amiss. Things could have gone very differently had the Princess not passed her test."
"You would all be dead." Hanus replies bluntly, as he pulls a decently manufactured blade off the wall. He unsheathes it and takes a few practice swings with it. His swings implied a deep familiarity with sword play. "I am no King's Ranger. I gave them some funding and time, and perhaps a few recruits. I believe them to be much better than they actually are." He takes a few more swings, the blade seeming to whistle through the air with the amount of force: He was angry about it. "They lie, cheat, steal, and murder to get their way. Some even do it for convenience and cover it up later." He pauses midway through his last swing, and sheathes the blade, holding it out to Kalemn. His anger eases. "I was going to leave soon... However, the princess' arrival interests me. So I will follow her... See if she proves true to her tales of compassion and heroism."
"And what, good sir, would you do if she does not?" LiWei asked.
Hanus looks across to LiWei. "Find another, better reason to die valiantly."
"Heroism?" Kalemn snorted. "Even in the tales, she was just a lovable princess in a lovable kingdom who was hidden away when things fell to shit. When did she show any heroism?"
"It takes immense bravery to deny an all powerful tyrant." Hanus retorts with a hint of admiration in his voice. "It also takes immense determination to still choose to fight a thousand years later, and equal compassion to be willing to die for a group of people she didn't know if she failed her test." He looks at Kalemn, judgement in his eyes. "I doubt you would do the same, sell sword."
"At least Kalemn's life decisions didn't put the lives of countless innocents to the slaughter. The princess may be brave, but she does not seem to be very smart." Tahlia smirked. "I look forward to the discussions tomorrow—I hope her next plan is better than the last."
LiWei watches, listens quiet. Interesting. He keeps his thoughts to himself for now and doesn't offer his opinion. Just asking questions gave him information as easily as getting a politician drunk to ask them how they really felt about politics. "I am afraid I must depart now. Thank you for your generosity, good lord Hanus Wolfblood. And I also thank you for insight commentary, lovely miss Wether and Weller." With his accent, it was hard to tell where he referred to Tahlia and where he referred to Kalemn. "Good bye. It was nice talking with you all." He moves to leave with his loot- dagger and some light leathers.
Tahlia waved as he leaved, quietly muttering "My pleasure." It was clear she was somewhat distracted, attempting to wield a small-sword with an evident lack of skill. She looked up long enough, however, to smile up at him.
Taking the still proffered sword from Hanus, Kalemn gave it a sheathed test swings of her own. "Very nice," she said in appreciation before backing out of the room, giving Hanus a small bow as she did. "M'lord."
Hanus didn't reply to them, instead he simply watched them with a rather unsettling look in his eyes, waiting for them to leave.
After a few minutes passed and noticing that she was alone with the darkelf, Tahlia quickly sheathed the blade, tapped the hilt to her forehead in salute, and rushed out, not wanting to linger under the man's unwelcome gaze.[/hr]
Kouri was left to her peace, as she had asked, and though some curious people passed by her door to try and overhear what she was doing, no sound came from her chambers. The King's Rangers guarding her door stood an all night vigil, not straying from their post even once. Some could swear that they heard the occasional bout of pained, heavy breathing, but it was simply dismissed as wishful nonsense by the majority who heard it, as the room had a fair bit of sound proofing. Only the King's Rangers who stood vigil could have heard such things, and neither spoke of what they may or may not have heard—as is duly proper for servants of the crown.
She did not leave her chambers at any point during the night. Or, at the very least, none saw her depart her chambers.
Though many were not interested in what Mikan did, and perhaps that was something she desired, a few did comment that she spent some of the night sleuthing around the various supply rooms. One King's Ranger assigned to follow her reported that she took the following items: A large supply sack, black hair dye, a small number of throwing knives, one food ration (which she immediately consumed), a few herbal ingredients for common pregnancy prevention aides, a wooden flute, several feet of rope, climbing gear, and a sewing kit.
Thereafter, she escaped the sight of the King's Ranger in question when he was momentarily distracted by a comrade in arms. It was, however, noted that nothing else went missing, and that her last known direction was the personal chambers of those whom she had duelled earlier. What—or who—she did, is anyone's guess.
Marcus stayed up late into the night, wandering from room to room, and pressing his head against the walls. Other King's Rangers gave him their respects, as they understood that he was saying goodbye to the only home he had, possibly for the rest of his life. Aside from his incident with Sisera, Marcus had no other further encounters, and he was one of those curious few who passed by Kouri's chambers, and tried to listen for any signs of a mental breakdown.
He says that he heard none.
Hanus was not to be found by anyone for the night. If anyone asked the King's Rangers, they would simply reply that they've never seen him use their beds in the many days that he had been among them. He simply seemed to find a reclusive spot none of them could find, and would disappear until the next day.
After his encounter with LiWei, James was found staring at the door to Kouri's quarters for over an hour. There was no sign of malice, or mania, but those few who spoke of what they saw, reported seeing some sort of remorse. For what, none of them knew. James then departed, though Beatrice—his crow—remained behind to watch the door in his stead. The Illusionist went to his private quarters, and was not heard from for the rest of the night. The following morning, though, LiWei would wake up to see Beatrice standing atop a moderately sized box, with a note atop it. The note simply reads as follows.
"It took me no more than an hour to produce these for you, Lee Way. Simply take these leathery vestments and apply them to your limbs, and they will shift to mold around them to produce an aesthetically pleasing skin that matches your tone and size. They take a few seconds to act, and are one-use spells—no more magic is involved, nor can be detected, after their process is complete. They last twenty four hours. Avoid exposing them to extremes of either temperature—cold or hot, as it will melt them. Oh, and it should go without saying, but they're not designed to protect you from the rigours of combat. They will be ripped to shreds if struck by magic or projectiles, though your own magic should be fine... I think. Try not to abuse them. You will have enough for two weeks, and I can produce more of them whenever you need. Remember. You owe me now."
It was early in the morning when King's Rangers started changing shifts. During this period, Kouri awoke, and left her chambers. The entire base was kept on a tight watch by the King's Rangers, who watched for any sign of people entering or leaving the complex, to prevent any security leaks. Wherever the princess travelled, guards followed, and additional agents shadowed her. It seemed to make her visibly uncomfortable.
She visits one of the two bathing chambers, and requests it for herself. Two guards maintain watch at the only entrance to the chamber, so as to give her the privacy she wished, though she made it clear to them that she would be willing to talk to those who sought her out, as she was in a much calmer mood and more ready mind for conversation—so long as they were not simply allowed to burst into the bathing chamber without her consent. She remains there for an hour, as another King's Ranger fetches her clean clothing, more appropriate for travel than her dress is.
Afterwards, she puts on her new clothes. It was a fine nobleman's silk shirt, tucked into her matching silk pants, in light blue colouration. The cuffs of the shirt were lined in gold. A simple pair of leather slippers and silk socks adorned her feet. Her clothes fit perfectly, having been fitted for her to wear, and made no effort of disguising her beauty. They were made for riding horses in mind, as most dresses were inappropriate for such activities. They were also made to establish her nobility without perhaps revealing her outright royalty.
It was a simple enough affairs to reach the dining hall at that point, and enjoy her first meal since waking up the previous day. She seemed to be looking for those who travelled with her, seeing if any of them were eating as well. By mid-morning, she travels to the Operations Chamber: Fed and ready to engage in the new day.
The Operations Centre was a large and open chamber, with one large, round table at the centre, and two other tables on opposite ends of it. All three were covered in papers, diagrams, and other such items. Gregory scratches his chin, which was covered in a five o'clock shadow: He had perhaps stayed up the entire night working on these maps, and organizing plans. Regardless, he responded with a tired salute for Kouri the moment she entered the room, and she nodded her head in response to tell him that he could stand down. Marcus, who had accompanied Kouri, leans against a nearby wall, crosses his arms, and simply waits for Gregory to explain the situation. She takes one look at the central table and blinks in shock. "Did you do all of this in a single night?" Gregory nods, once again scratching his chin. He had a rather noticeable odour to him, and the Princess wrinkles her nose the moment she picks up on it. "There's hundreds of routes away from here..." Kouri's finger traces some of them leading northward, and Gregory raises his eyebrows. "None of us know where you need to go to accomplish your objectives. Therefore, I plotted multiple paths in every conceivable direction."
The Princess' eyes follow along the map until she reaches the location of the pond from where she had escaped from the magical spell that bound her there. The potential paths intentionally snaked around it, avoiding it. Gregory notices Kouri's confusion, and speaks, though quietly. "An angel was spotted flying near the pond. Your awakening has been discovered by our enemies." Kouri looks up at Gregory, and smiles a little. "That's why you stayed up all night plotting so many paths while I stayed in complete seclusion... This place is no longer safe, is it?"
The Commander's expression turns cold, though his lips curl into a frown as he looks down at the map, avoiding Kouri's direct gaze. "No. I'm afraid it isn't. Every day you stay here is another that you are in potential danger. They won't stop looking here until they hear rumours of you elsewhere, and they will eventually stumble upon this place."
The two share a moment of silence as others filter into the room. Mikan, Hanus, James, and others move into the large chamber and start looking over the materials themselves. Gregory then, finally, looks up at Kouri, and nods as he moves his hand over the map of the continent. "Where must you go?" Kouri looks at the map, and points to a location far to the north. "Though most of these names are unfamiliar to me, the Free Holds were present in my time. I need to reach a temple north of them. One that the Gods themselves cannot touch." She looks at Gregory. "However, we must go one step at a time. We will need to reach Rheinfeld first, before we can even think of crossing it, the Blood Sea, and the Free Holds. What are the best paths, Commander?"
Gregory beams with pride at Kouri addressing him by his title, and the exhaustion in his form seems to fade away in an instant as he points to four paths on the map. "To reach Rheinfeld, we'll need to either traverse the mountains, or walk around them. There are several methods to do this, but I believe four in particular are the most efficient."
"We can travel westward, through the Dark Forest, and around the edges of the mountains along the coast to reach Rheinfeld. It would most certainly be the longest path, but it would also be the path with the fewest number of possible witnesses to your travels. The only thing we would have to be worried of are the elves, who live within the forest, and who might lash out at a large group of outsiders travelling through it. Granted, the forest hides many dangers of its own, that we should rightfully be wary of. Especially since we don't have any outposts anywhere near the area that could help you—you would be entirely on your own."
"We can travel straight northward, but head underneath the mountains, through the dark passages of The Abyss. This would be one of the faster paths, and because it heads underground, we would avoid the attention of many of the Gods' agents... Though once again, we are without an outpost in the area, and the passageways shift constantly. It would be a dangerous and deadly environment to travel through. But if you need both speed and stealth, this is an option."
"We can travel eastward, toward Liveria, and travel through the Trader's Pass that runs between Liveria and Rheinfeld. There are, however, many witnesses here. Thousands. Disguises would be required, and though we have an outpost in the area that could provide some aid, I am without a doubt that the Gods will have several resources in the area attempting to look for you. Still, it's an option to try and slip through undetected, if you don't mind taking the long road to get there in the first place."
"Finally, we can travel straight northward, and simply attempt to climb through and over the winding wild passes through the mountains. We'll avoid most witnesses this way, and it is the fastest route, but a few agents of the Gods would likely be looking for us there. There is also the danger of Orcish tribes, Bandit enclaves, Vampire hideouts, and other malevolent forces who would wish for nothing more than a beautiful woman to add to their collection of victims... We do have an outpost in the area, and we also have a powerful mage contact out there who may be willing to provide us some help."
Gregory turns and looks to Kouri, and then motions to the four paths on the map again. "Choose wisely. Some provide greater stealth at the cost of speed, and time is of the essence—every moment we spend backtracking or avoiding the Gods is another moment they have to capture and torture King's Rangers into revealing which path you took. However, the faster routes will likely be anticipated by our enemies, who will attempt to route you out in games of cat and mouse, where you will have to disguise your identity. To take a route that is both fast and stealthy, will incur great dangers from the very environment itself—sufficiently so that the only reason our enemies don't chase us there, is because they aren't irrational enough to do so."
Mikan is the first to pipe up about the map, and points directly at The Abyss. "That way. Definitely that way. It's fast, we're a small group, but we've got a lot of smart people, and fast people, and strong people. If anyone can make it, it's us... Plus, it avoids having to fight the Gods. The less attention we get, the better off we'll be."
Marcus shakes his head in disagreement as he steps over to the map, and points at the Dark Forest. "The longest route will involve the least amount of danger, and the least amount of attention. Our group is too conspicuous to disguise, and I do not want to take unnecessary risks involving the princess' life in The Abyss."
Hanus, too, steps forward. He simply glares at the map, and presses his finger upon The Abyss. "We should not go here." His glare turns to Mikan, who obstinately glares back at him, and sticks her tongue out in a childish fashion. Hanus then moves his finger to the mountains. "We should simply traverse this area as quickly as possible. We can hide among the foothills and cavern systems, travel at night, and watch the skies for those seeking us out. Bandits would not be stupid enough to attack a well armed group with no trade goods to steal, and Orcs are a loud, savage bunch, that we could avoid in the majority. Plus, the aid of a powerful mage sounds like it could further even the odds."
James chuckles and summons Beatrice, having her land on the map and peck at The Trader's Pass. "I know you all wish to do suicidal swan dives into combat, or horrid conditions, and as much as the mage among the mountains is a tantalizing option... Liveria is our safest bet. We can disguise ourselves as a wandering troupe. I grew up in a carnival, I know how to lie, and how to create stage performances. We could easily slip through in disguises of various sorts, such as mercenaries, aristocrats, and so on. It's easier than you think, Kouri... We would just have to never break character. Like one long stage play."
Kouri looks over the various options carefully, weighing the consequences. It seemed she would need time to decide, and perhaps the guiding words of others...
"WAIT! WAIT, GODS, PLEASE, WA--" The pleading voice is interrupted as her throat is cut open, the only further sound escaping being that of gurgling. The guard's body slumps to the floor in the dark lair, blood dripping from the glowing blade that illuminated itself. It was a great hall they stood in, braziers lined the way down the centre. The entire place looked decrepit and poorly maintained. The archangel beats his wings and shakes some of the blood off his sword. "Disgusting little gnats think they will find mercy from justice." Beside him stood a compatriot: A woman with brown hair, tied back in a pony tail to avoid getting in her way during combat. "Indeed. Why are we here, my lord? Why are we not purging the filth that is their leader?"She points at a figure, sitting on a throne, protected by three distinct and competent looking people.
The figure claps, and steps past her three protectors. One of them growls to stay between her and the threats, but she eases its mind by gently patting it on the head. It calms, though continues to glare at the duo before it with strange, lizard-like eyes. "You don't get it, do you?" The figure states with amusement, as the light of a brazier finally unveils her form. Her old, decaying form. Slender to the point of anorexia, her grey, mangled hair and yellowed teeth showed her vampiric nature. The brunette takes a step back and raises her shield, as the archangel lowers his blade.
"He is going to recruit me to solve a problem for him. Typhon would have slain me already had he otherwise desired to do so." The brunette looks at Typhon with surprise in her eyes, lowering her own weapon and shield as he nodded to confirm the craven vampire's statement. "... I'm not sure I understand, but I will do as commanded, my lord." Typhon shakes his head and chuckles. "Come now Jennifer, you may call me by my real name." He then turns and faces the vampire.
"When last we met, you were known as Garret. Still hold to that name even in this form?" The vampire chuckles, then coughs up a fit. She summons a walking stick into her hand, and leans upon it. "I am too old for this dance. Unless you are here to kill me or bring me a fresh body to steal, I'm afraid I don't have much patience for social graces anymore." Typhon takes a deep breath and then sighs. He pulls out a scroll for her, and throws it to her. She takes it, and opens it quickly. As her eyes race over the text, they widen with an uncanny and unsettling greed. "... The little princess is back, is she? I remember when she was so small... So frail... I saw so much potential, but it was out of my reach. And now, you're telling me, she lived for a thousand years, and retained her youth?" She spreads out her arms as a show of the rot and decay of old age, afflicting her even in spite of vampirism.
"I have detested this curse for so, very long... And I assume you give me this information because you want me to act upon it." Typhon nods, and the vampire cackles with her dry voice. "Then I will do it. I will hunt her down, and take her body. I will remove your problem, and mine..." Typhon looks back to Jennifer, and motions for her to step forward. She obeys, without a second thought, or shred of fear. "She will watch over your operations. If you should fail, she will destroy you. If I find her dead, or missing, then I will destroy you... Understand?"
The vampire hisses lowly in frustration, but eventually, bows her head in agreement. "I will... Tolerate, the company of your little minion." Typhon raises an eyebrow. "Careful, this little minion slew ten of yours without so much as breaking a sweat. She is one of our mortal agents... The Silver Shield stands proud of its service to the Heavens, and we are proud to have them." He looks back at Jennifer, and smiles, warmly and gently. "Right, Jennifer?" The woman beams happily and salutes him. "Anything for you, my lord."
Typhon licks his lips, and for a moment, looked like he was going to answer that. Then, he glances up toward the ceiling, and clenches his teeth instead. "Another time, and I will reward your service, Jennifer. Until then, you know what to do."
Alexander Reuman - Commander Gregory - Princess Kouri
Collab between @Brovo and @RoranHawkins
He had seen her, surrounded by guards in the dining halls, eating her breakfast. He had been doing the same thing there himself and had taken the time to spy on her. He felt not a speck of shame for it. Despite that everyone in the order was talking about her, he felt skeptical about her calling and true identity. Alexander had grown up in Rheinfeld and it had left its marks. He did not believe in most magic that was not self-explanatory. As he knew it, Princess Kouri had been dead for over a millenium, and nothing could change that. The girl he observed during his breakfast changed little about his initial opinion of her. She had blue hair and blue eyes like the legend said, but apart from that she did not seem particularly legendary to him. She did look remarkably clean and spared from the whims of life, but that did little to convince him. He wanted to be able to say it was a crafty disguise or anything of the sorts, but given that she had convinced even Gregory of her identity in yesterday's legitimisation ceremony, he knew that this was hardly possible. He knew it was a strict test that literally could not be fooled, but he had not been present himself, only having arrived yesterday evening. He simply could not find a pleasing explanation for himself, and he did not want to derive the girl of a chance to prove herself with his skepticism. As a whole however, Alexander remained unsure.
He left the dining halls quite a bit earlier than she did and headed over the the Operations Centre linea recta. Once he arrived there he quickly found out what was being planned here and what dilemma they were facing, but before he would waste his time on that he needed to talk to Gregory. He walked up to the commander and thumped his fist on his chest in a rudimentary military salute. "Commander, if you have a moment?"
Gregory turns to face the man speaking to him. He appeared to have a rather grave look at the various choices on the map, none were safe. "Yes?"
"Yes, what do you need?"
"I wish to act as guide and guardian for Princess Kouri's party." Alexander said, straight to the point as ever. Alexander awaited the commander's response with an unpleasant unease he had not felt in quite some time. There was a lot more behind his request that met the eye, and the commander knew this. Alexander was an accomplished instructor who would serve a fine job here in the Renaltan cell. He had just returned from active service at the Rheinfeldian cell because the enemy had found out his identity and presence there. Given his past, this was enough of a reason to send him away. It also made him a perfect canditate to get the party through Rheinfeld without trouble. Last but not least, Alexander was beginning to reach an age where active service was not an option anymore, and he felt that this mission, regardless of his doubts about Kouri's true identity, would be his last chance to do something meaningful in his personal war against the Gods.
Gregory pauses for a moment, then looks between Marcus and Alexander. "Seems all the old birds are leaving the nest for this... Probably for the best. The princess will need the tactical skill she doesn't possess." Kouri looks at Alexander, frowning, but not vocally disagreeing with the statement.
A grin broke through on Alexander's face when he realised that the commander would not prevent him from joining the expedition. "I better catch up with the details then." He said, saluting again and walking over to the table, where he read up on the details of the four presented paths.
It quickly became clear to him that stealth was an absolute necessity. He knew first-hand how effective the templars were at tracking down people with or without magical ability travelling in bigger groups than teams of two. If they would not even succeed in passing the mountainous borders unnoticed, they'd be up for a very rough journey for sure. On the other hand, at least they knew the dangers when going through the obvious routes. Who knew what perils lay waiting for them on the other paths? While Alexander weighed off the different advantages and disadvantages of each option Princess Kouri arrived in the Operation Centre and talked to the commander.
"Stealth is our only advantage at this point." He said when the argument flared up. "While speed is of the essence to prevent discovery, exposing ourselves is a sure way to fail before we even get anywhere." Alexander continued, gesturing to support his arguments. "I believe that we should either travel around the mountains or climb over them. It may take longer and it may be more perilous for we might not know all the dangers, but the same counts for the enemy. We may be cut off from our allies most of the time, but once again, so will our enemies. Even if we are detected we would have ample time to move out of harm's way."
Kouri smiles a little uncertainly, looking rather thankful for the advice. Gregory meanwhile simply nods, and motions to Marcus. "You're both some of my better trainers. Try not to get killed out there." He clasps Alexander's shoulder and grins. "I've no doubt the Gods will be at your backs. Give them hell."[/hr]
