The Riders of Verlendia | IC (reboot)

[Elle Joyner]

THEME

Marcellus;Quicksand;LB;

THE
RIDERS
of VERLENDIA

DRIVING FORWARD

The sun rose like a jewel over the rolling crest of Mount Curoet. Golds and reds and brilliant magenta danced along the shimmering grey of Mist Catcher's scaly hide, lending the dragon its light as he and his rider soared high overhead. With a sweeping arc downward, Milo clutched at the makeshift reins a little tighter with one paw, the other held overhead as a triumphant cry rose and died in his throat, Melindre's warning playing in his head with calming resonance.

"You aren't seen as the heroes you ought to be. Not yet, Milo. Someday, soon, but for now, we must remain cautious and hidden…"

"Okay, Misty…" Milo called gently, instead, "Let's head back."

With a wide curve, beast and rider circled about and with a great pump of leather wings, Mist Catcher surrendered to the air currents, gliding in a steady stream back to the camp. A few minutes later, they landed with a sturdy whump and Milo slipped down off the dragon's back, giving him a pat on his long, slender neck.

"See anything of interest?" Melindre's voice echoed cool and soft in the darkness of the valley, but Milo still leapt with a squeal, as if she had shouted. With a quiet chuckle, the Oracle shook her head, "Peace, Little One. You're not in trouble."

"I know y-you said w-w-we had to hide, b-but I j-just couldn't help it. He w-wanted to–"

"I trust it will grow harder and harder to ignore the draw, not just for you, Milo… but for all the Riders. It is your destiny, after all. And it is their nature." Gingerly, Melindre extended a hand, and with a flicker of a nod from Milo, Mist Catcher curved his head into her palm, "Besides, it's nearly time for us to return, anyway. You've all learned so much over these past few weeks, and we've a lot of work to do out there."

"Tiriok m-mentioned a m-mission?" Milo asked, a furry brow raised.

"Yes. Down into Atheno. But you needn't worry yourself over that. He won't need everyone. Now then, haven't you got your training with Leander this morning?"

Milo's nose wrinkled, his ears drooping, "I'd rather go w-with Tiriok."

"Now, Milo…" With a sympathetic smile, Melindre shook her head, "It's not all that bad. And I heard you're improving quite nicely."

"If you c-call learning to d-d-dodge w-when he throws things at m-me improving…" Giving his ears a tug, he cracked a smile, tongue peeking through his missing canine.

With a light chuckle, Melindre reached towards him, hand finding his shoulder, "I've learned, in the short time we've had together, Dear One… that Leander shows he cares in very different ways from the rest of us. Trust me, if he wasn't at least a little invested, he'd have no concern whether or not you were catching on. Now then, best get Misty back to camp, the hunting party brought back some stags. Then move along to your lesson."

"C'mon, Misty…" Tail slumped, Milo trudged off, and with a snort that filtered a plume of vapor into the air, Mist Catcher followed along.

~~§~~​

With the map unrolled in front of him, Tiriok heaved a sigh, a hand raising absentmindedly to pinch the bridge of his nose. Frustration curled like a lazy cat around his shoulders, scrunched and tight, and a twinge of pain began to lick the length of his spine. They had no choice. He told himself again, yet the words he was hoping might bear some spell-like ability to sooth had thus far done little more than aggravate him further. If they didn't find out answers, there would be no telling what they were up against, and the best source for information happened to be in Atheno… but even without the city overrun by the unknown enemy they faced, Kam'brisa was a danger all on her own. Tiriok knew all too well what his adopted sister required of him, even if it would undoubtedly bring more struggles down the line, but their options were worn thin, and they couldn't stay hidden forever, especially knowing they would have several fully grown dragons on their hands, soon.

Marking another pathway off on the parchment, he finally rolled it back up and slipped it into his pack. The others would be arriving shortly. He asked Leander and Natalia to accompany him, their expertise of the city not the least of their usefulness. In the end, he'd also asked Casimir to tag along. He was young and impulsive, but his innocent appearance lent a certain protective air of presumption to their group, and if they could maintain some degree of stealth throughout the city there was a chance they might just survive.

Their journey into the once pristine city, however, was not the sole source of his unease. Hexar had approached the group the night prior with information regarding Kyensi's lost villagers and it was decided, in the end, that a small group would transport to Maglin to attempt a rescue. It was an enormous risk, but one Hexar was confident they could accomplish, and Tiriok had no doubt Kyensi wouldn't rest until they had at least tried.

Two missions, unfathomably dangerous, and all he could do was pray they survived… But at least Leander and Rashan couldn't kill each other if they were in separate parties.

~~§~~​

The fire crackled as Melindre threw another twig into the heat. The two teams would be leaving soon, their separate missions planned, and in a few hours they would depart. There wasn't much the Oracle could do, now, but ensure they had something to eat along the way… It was difficult, the weight she carried, the burden of knowing her role was coming to an end, made all the more heavy knowing she had come to care for the people she was tasked with guiding. Soon enough, they wouldn't need her, and for the first time in a long time, Melindre was facing true blindness… A life lacking purpose.

Stretching forward, hands held out to test the radiating heat, she sighed, "Knowing Mistress… Guide my troubled mind. Show me where I--"

Steps crunched through the overgrowth and Melindre's hand went to the blade at her side, relaxing a moment later at the familiar tread, "Morning Leander."

"Talking nonsense to fires again, are you?" Leander asked as he came into the clearing and looked at Melindre hunched by the warmth of the fire. He noticed her hand relax at her side and smirked, knowing she couldn't see it but likely could feel it in the air. "Were you going to try and attack me? That's cute."

Leander approached and sat a few paces away from the Oracle. He seemed more relaxed than he should be given the current situation in Atheno. His home had been overrun… and for most, that would be devastating. He wondered how Natalia was taking it. But for Leander, he didn't want to return with the news that he had not become a Dragon Rider. He could hear the disappointment and anger in his father's voice now. He could almost feel the lashings. If the Eirblins were right, there was a likelihood that his father was dead. Maybe he should be celebrating?

"What are you doing out here, Oracle. You know you shouldn't be alone."

"I'm hardly lost in the woods, Leander. Camp is just around the bend." Reaching to her other side, she plucked up a long, thick branch and prodded at the flames, the light flaring briefly before the embers relaxed against their stone floor, "Cooking up some of the stag for you all to take with you. You shouldn't expect Atheno to be the same as you remember it, and it would be wise to avoid merchant stalls, just in case you're recognized."

Looking up, an unfocused gaze falling near his face, she shrugged and smiled faintly, "Best use I can be, at the moment."

"...hard not to be lost when you're blind.." Leander said under his breath as he watched her poke at the fire. The smell of the stag cooking was welcoming but Melindre's nagging soured that for him. Like he didn't know to keep from merchant stalls when he went to Atheno. She treated him like a child and he hated it.

"I'm no fool, Melindre. I know it will be different and I know to keep away from places with prying eyes. But that could be almost the whole damn city, which begs the question... Why am I going? I understand wanting someone who knows the city but it almost seems reckless to take Natalia and I. Would have been easier to just draw that blasted knight a map…" he stopped, thinking for a moment. "..I guess I should do my hair differently at least."

"It's not just your knowledge of the city, Leander. You and Natalia have influence. More than that, you've reason to be there. Obviously staying out of sight is ideal, but if you are caught, you'll have a better hand at talking your way out of it than Tiriok might. And contrary to whatever you might think, I know you're not a fool. Tiriok needs someone with the mind for the delicacy of this mission. And having someone who can fight if need be… well, it doesn't hurt."

"What reason do I have being there?" he asked, looking back at the Oracle with irritation. He hoped she didn't mean his father, otherwise she truly was blind. "What the hell are we looking for anyway? That might help things along rather than wandering in aimlessly."

"You're from Atheno. A simple explanation of why you've been away will certainly be less suspicious than an outsider's presence there." Straightening up slightly, her eyes shifted back to the fire, "Tiriok has a contact there… Someone who may have information on what we're up against. On who we're up against. Lord Direstrine made mention of her having been paid to procure the Book of Calling. And it can't hurt to gather the state of the city. How bad things have gotten."

A light smile curved at the edge of her lips and she shrugged, "I would have thought you'd want something else to do besides watching me tend the fire…"

"It's my job to watch you." Leander replied as a matter of a factly. He then picked up a stick and started prodding at the fire as well. His stomach grumbled lightly but he ignored it. "The Book of Calling… and Lord Direstrine. Do you think we can actually trust what he has to say?"

Leander looked over to her. He was asking because of what Lord Direstrine had instructed him to do.. to bring Melindre back to him. It was an order but it didn't sit well with him. There was something wrong but he didn't know what it was just yet. Maybe Melindre did? He was fishing for her thoughts.

"I don't trust the man as far as I could throw him, Leander." Her gaze drove into the flames, the nature of her words reflected in the gray depths, "Fact is, he scares me. The Direstrine family has always been… troublesome. But Lord Direstrine, himself? He's driven. Too driven. His intent to maintain his rule rises above the needs of everyone around him, of his own kingdom's safety. His lust for control is little different than the likes of Omesh Kar, and there is very little, I imagine, that he will not do to meet his goals..."

Looking up again, eyes misty, she shrugged, "But that makes this mission all the more important. Our enemy is not singular, nor are they foolish. And we need answers. I am one woman, Leander… and I am not so important that I should risk this mission. But you should ask yourself why Direstrine would concern himself with my protection… when the Riders' lives are so at stake."

Leander watched her as she confirmed what he thought to be true; Lord Direstrine could not be trusted. There was something about the man that bothered him but what would he do now? A Lord had given him an order… but for what reason? Melindre was right. Why would Lord Direstrine care about her when the Riders of Verlandia should be the most important thing. It didn't add up.

He looked back at the fire and sighed. "You should hurry up and finish cooking this. We're hungry and we have to leave soon." Leander stood, brushed off his pants and started to make his way back to the rest of the group but he stopped, looking back over at Melindre. What did that lord want with her?

~~§~~​

The Bridge was nearly complete. Hexar had spent nearly all night working on it, each intricate part of the puzzle laid out with precision befitting an Artisan at his craft. Now, as the sun began to crest the misty mountains, leaving a haze in the air overhead, his fingers delicately wove thread into rope, pristine silk, braided six, now seven, now eight feet in length. When it was at last long enough, he carefully wound it into a loop, the circle completed as both ends were tied into a knot. With the pieces of the material elements in place, the final components to the complicated spell began. Straightening, his eyes falling closed, the Klerion took in a deep, slow breath, releasing it in measure.

His hands clasped palm to palm, and he pressed them to his bare chest, before easing them forward, pushing through air with a languid stretch. At the same time, he moved his feet shifting, sliding in deliberate motions. Slowly, at first, then steadily building speed, the motions poured into a dance, the intensity growing with perfect, unheard rhythm. Shuffling gave way to leaps, to spins, to twisting and turning, as he moved around the circle, finally landing with silent resolution in the center. Beads of sweat glistened off his forehead and back, breathing deep and full. A glowing light enveloped the rope, rising upwards a good distance. Smiling, Hexar raised his arms over his head before thrusting them outward to either side. With a gust of wind, the light bloomed outward, following the curves and arcs of the patterns he carved with his bare feet. Meeting at a central point and driving upwards, the light formed an archway above the ground, brightly glowing, giving off a low humming sound.

Satisfied, Hexar pulled on his robe and tied it before he turned away from the bridge. He took the path that would lead him to camp and there, finding his team by the fire, he cleared his throat, "...It is ready. Time to go."

Tiriok looked up to the Klerion and giving a nod, rose to his feet as well, "Right. Suppose it's best we head out as well, then. With any luck at all, we'll meet back here by sunset tomorrow at the latest, but if not, it's time we moved on from this camp. Melindre…" He looked to the Oracle, who glanced up with an oddly distracted expression, "If anything goes wrong, you and Milo should take Mist Catcher and head for the coast. Team? Gear up… It's time to get some answers."

~~§~~​

Roughly two hours brought Tiriok's team to the outskirts of Atheno. The Pale City glistened in the pale light of day, blues and whites of cobalt and limestone a beacon against the grays and greens of the rocky mountains. High above the dome-capped buildings, the Guilded Court rose skyward, the trio of towers a pinnacle of the city's majesty. But even at a distance, the horrors of the siege wrought upon the Pale City could be glimpsed. Charred battle scars marred the walls surrounding the city, and scattered rubble broke the arching skyline. Beneath the scent of the Eternal Pines, lingered the acrid remnants of burning… and worse.

Jaw tensing, fingers curling around the blade at his side, Tiriok breathed in and out, taking a moment to steal himself, before turning to the others, "Hoods up. Once we're through the gate, we need to take the fastest, least public route to the Shade Market. Leander, Natalia… I look to your lead."

~~§~~​

As the last of them stepped through the portal, they were instantly met with the sudden rush of dry heat, as Maglin's sun, high overhead, illuminated the alley into which they arrived. The difference in temperature was immediate, the air filled with a dry dustiness, under which lay a current of sweetness, of herbs and florals, and the more pungent aroma of musk.

Voices carried from the streets, but no one seemed to give notice to their arrival, and Hexar seemed to sense the unasked question in the air as he brushed down his robes, "Welcome to Shalmarin. The Bridge is invisible to those who do not walk through it. We will be safe to leave it here. For now, we need to head into the city center. If what I saw when skried was indication, the prisoners were be kept in the Hammer's Keep. Stick close, and try not to draw attention…" His gaze shifted to the colorful group, lingering briefly on Oleander. A small smirk appeared as he shook his head, "As much as you can, anyway."

GM NOTES

TAGS || @KatSea, @Owl, @Verran, @ze_kraken, USER=27916]@Pupperr[/USER], @Custodiet Teh, @SilverPaw

Interactive Elements |

The time has come for your separate missions…

The first team will be headed by Tiriok, consisting of Leander, Natalia and Casimir - this team's intent is to find the woman known as the Merchant Queen, Kam'brisa, in the besieged city of Atheno. Getting in will be the first obstacle, and from there, navigating the dangerous grounds without drawing suspicion.

The second team is led by Hexar and consists of Haloke, Roshan, Oleander and Kyensi. This team will head through a newly created Bridge Portal, which will transport the team to Maglin, where they will set out to find and rescue the captured villagers from Kyensi's home.

 

[ze_kraken]

INTERLUDE: THE KILNWOODS AND THE PATITACCIS

​

The Aegremont, perhaps more than other estates in the Pale City, truly lived up to its patron city's moniker. White walls tinted with a cool, icy blue framed its sides and stood in contrast against the backdrop of grey slate that made up the mountainside into which the Aegremont had been carved. Beyond those walls, as durable as they were pleasant to look upon and manned by no less than two dozen of the Patitacci's household guard in ruby-red cloaks, stood the keep itself of the same pale white as its exterior walls. What towers protruded from the walls or the keep were capped in domes of iridescent red that caught the sunlight and projected a fiery halo about the Aegremont. Grand windowed archways fringed in white gold peered out across the city of Atheno below.

The Aegremont had not always been the property of the Patitacci household - nor had the household occupied it long enough for it to be called an ancestral home. The Patitacci household's riches had come from their ruthlessness and cunning at court, and the Aegremont was no exception. It had come with their appointment to the Gilded Court, and for many in Atheno marked the beginning of the family's true relevancy in the politics of Verlandia. The Patitacci name had come to mean something beyond foreign miners with a penchant for marrying beyond their station. It was a name of power now, one to be taken seriously whatever its past was.

So it was, then, that Natalia Patitacci was left utterly bewildered and confused as to why a family name like Patitacci would be wasted upon the likes of Leander Kilnwood.

She sat alone with Leander in one of the Aegremont's numerous private audience chambers, decorated with lush couches and chairs whose cushions were a rich royal purple Natalia adored. Dusty tomes lined richly carved wooden shelves, and sunlight filtered in from one of the Aegremont's several arched sunward-facing windows. Swiftly cooling tea rested upon a small table between the two, and Natalia thought with the ghost of a smile how the tea had made her feel more warmth than the man seated before her.

The awkward silence that hung between them was not a new development. Upon their first meeting, Natalia had noted how the absence of either hers or Leander's parents often correlated directly with a total and complete silence. She had not minded it then - there had been enough distractions to preoccupy herself. But now, seated before him with not another soul in the world to save her from making polite conversation?

Lady Orestra, grant me your wisdom, she thought, hand clutching at a pendant worn about her neck. Let me think with what my ears tell me, and not my eyes.

The Patitacci family. 'It's a strong family' Leander could hear the words of his mother echoing in the back of his head. Politics. It was something he didn't care for, nor did his father, but his mother seemed determined that Leander would wed an equally powerful family to further solidify their position in Atheno. And that is how he ended up at the Aegremont, sitting across from Natalia. A plain maiden, to say the least, though the girl's eyes were striking. He remembered the girl from the soi·rées that the nobility of Atheno would host… although she was absent from several of them. Leander remembered the rumours… plagued by disease.

The two were no stranger to each other, both of them raised in a world of Kings and Queens, dancing and feasts, pleasantries and boring interactions. Leander struggled to fit into a world where he had to pretend to like everyone, when really he knew what the whispers behind the crowds were saying about each other. Politics. Everyone hated each other but no one would say it to each other's faces.

It wasn't his first meeting with Natalia. The two had been courting for awhile now, if that's what you wanted to call it. In almost all of the meetings the two barely said a word to each other. In the beginning, their parents were present and did the talking for them while the two sat there looking pretty. Well, at least Leander was. And now, in their private meetings, it was nothing but silence. He couldn't be bothered. It was a waste of his time. All the days he spent with Natalia could be spent preparing for the next Choosing ceremony. For the day he became a Dragon Rider. But here he was… might as well have some fun with it.

"Like what you see?" he asked bluntly, leaning forward in his seat in a casual manner with one arm resting on his leg and the other lightly cupping his chin. "You must. You've been staring at me long enough." He flashed a devilishly handsome smile and leaned back in his chair once more, this time one arm hung over the back of the chair and he let the calf of his right leg rest over his left. All noble mannerisms seemed to have vanished in one fell swoop.

Natalia blinked in surprise, reaching for her abandoned tea cup to mask her astonishment. She took one sip and fought the urge to grimace: it was rather cold now.

"Were I a village girl with less regard for my virtue and greater hopes at raising a lord's bastard than marrying the blacksmith's boy, that might be enough," Natalia said. "Certainly you must have some experience with that sort of woman, no?"

"I have experience with many kinds of women" he responded flatly. "You used to be more fun when you flocked to me like all the others and didn't bother with such niceties… but now.. Well, now you're the image of a true noble. I'm sure your chambermaid must be happy with the work she's done."

"I will let her know of your satisfaction, Lord Kilnwood. I do wonder on whose order you are seated here, however. I doubt you are bored with your tomcatting about, and I must confess I have yet to see you much at court so I doubt your own ability to gain an audience with my family. Pretty looks do not make up for a lack of cunning, not that I would know from first-hand experience. Was it your father?"

Natalia raised a curious eyebrow, hiding a smirk behind her tea cup.

Leander's head craned back over the chair, his arms dangling at the side as his legs stretched out in front of him. Disgust came over his face, as though he had drunk soured milk, at the sound of his title. Lord Kilnwood. Yuck. "Natalia… we have known each other long enough. Call me Leander."

He came back into a seated position at her next, what she thought to be quips, judging behind whatever smirk she had hidden from view, though her brow gave it away. And then he grinned, it seemed as though she wanted to play now. "I have no reason to be in a room full of people to pretend to be something I'm not, like people I don't like, all to do what… gain a better political position? It's a waste of my time. I have more important things to be doing… and besides.." He looked at her more seriously now, "you know how this works, Nat. We are meeting alone now, our parents have already signed off on this. The Patitacci and Kilnwood family; a most beautiful and powerful union. We both hold value in Atheno, I'm sure you have heard no end to it from your father. I'm sorry, love, but it is my decision whether I choose to have you or not. Not yours, nor your family's at this point."

"So it is true," Natalia said, making no show to hide her smile this time. "I mention the slightest possibility this is your father's doing, and you puff out your chest and tell me how this is all your doing, how this is your decision. Delightful to see a court rumor ring with a bit of truth."

Natalia stood, set her teacup upon the table, and smoothed down her maroon gown. On her, the garment was straight-edged and flourished out at the ankles where loose fabric meant to hug curves went unused. She paced to the arched window, the wide fringes of the gown concealing her footsteps and giving her movements an ethereal quality as she undid the latch to one of the windows and opened it. Cool mountain air, crisp and scented with a recent rainstorm, flooded the chamber.

"There are exactly fifty-eight such windows in the Aegremont. Not all are quite this large, but I'm a rather small thing. Perhaps half of them are as high as this one - so, call it twenty. I would rather fling myself from all twenty of those windows than suffer even one month as your wife, Leander. The decision might be yours to put events into motion, but I assure you I would be long gone before I ever so much as took one step towards our marriage bed."

Natalia paused before the window, glancing outward over the horizon and the city of Atheno below.

"But I understand that you are a self-interested man - so if my own plight does not resonate with you, then perhaps this will. You said it yourself. You hate prancing about the court pretending and playing the game. What do you think a union with my family would earn you, if not more of the very thing you so clearly hate? Obriem be kind, that is not a life I think you would want. And a sickly woman like me will have no part in playing the game when her strong, handsome and able husband is there to do it in my stead. So think long and hard on if that is worth a little bit of joy between my legs and showing your father you can make your own, mature decisions."

"...my father.." he echoed her words in a light whisper. The young maiden seemed to have it all figured out, barely an adult but well polished into a court shrew. He knew that her noble manners would not allow her to say such things if she only knew the truth but it was something he would never dare speak about.

Leander stood and crossed the room toward her. His commanding presence came behind her and a surprisingly gentle hand cupped the girl's small shoulder. "Stupid girl…" his breath was hot against her cheek as he whispered against her ear. "You think this was his doing? Wrong again. He would much rather me be focusing my priorities elsewhere.. Rather than play house with a sickly woman."

His green eyes peered over to her as he released her shoulder and with one finger, pushed a piece of her curled lock out of her face and tucked it behind her ear. "There would be no joy between the legs of someone like you. You speak of making your own choices when you're not even following the path you want to. Just who are you, really Natalia? Because even I think you don't know the answer to that question.."

"Oh, I doubt your father arranged this at all," Natalia replied, shifting in Leander's grip to face him as he brushed aside her hair. "But that you seem so intent to insist this is your choice, I could not help but prod. If I may."

She gently pushed past Leander and glided towards the door to the audience chamber. She pressed one ear to it, then cracked it open to gaze off into the hallway beyond before shutting the door once more. Natalia returned to her seat, offering Leander to do the same.

"To speak candidly," she said, nostrils flaring. "I do not care one bit however you feel about your father, other than it amuses me to see you agitated. To be born strong and proud and beautiful, and a man besides, and to complain of a lack of choice? Do you even understand the irony? Of course you don't, you spend your days hitting men with wooden practice sticks and fucking village girls who don't know better."

Her knuckles whitened as her hands curled into fists at her lap.

"Gods be good, the one time in my life I may have found pleasure in knowing there was nothing expected of me I spent bedridden, and now I am expected to submit myself to the first passable man. And that will be it. My life will be over, just barely sixteen years after it started. Even if I were born the perfect ideal of a courtly woman, I would no doubt still be here before you. And perhaps you would be more interested if I had the right shape, but it would not change the fact that my destiny was written in ink that dried the moment I was born, and I have nothing I can do to change that."

Leander watched curiously as the maiden opened the door to see if there were listening ears about. He followed her lead when she sat and gestured to him to do the same. This time he sat in the chair with more grace than before, one leg crossed over the other, both arms firmly resting on the arms of the chair. He studied her face while she seemingly began to scold him. It was thrilling to see the fire that he had lit underneath her and it resembled that of a rebellious young girl he remembered from far too long ago. But then it seemed to vanish, behind a veil of doubt and hopelessness. A feeling he knew all too well. She thought he had choices, but he didn't. He was nothing more than his father's puppet. A pawn in his games to be used and abused. A mirror for a reflection he never was able to see. He understood more than she knew. But he would never tell her that. He didn't know how. Instead he focused on the glimpse of a spark he noticed as she spoke.

The sound of clapping echoed through the room as Leander applauded the young woman. "Thank the heavens!" he exclaimed as a small grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. "I thought we had lost that wee lass, that spitfire of a child you used to be. But it seems like she was just hiding, too scared… or repressed to come out and play. I'll thank you though, milady, for finally joining me. It was awful rude to keep your guest, a suitor at that, waiting."

Leander took a more relaxed position in his chair before continuing. "You know… you were never the type to sit by and let things happen. I'm surprised you're doing it now and are okay with surrendering to the fact you can't do anything about your destiny. Stop using the fact you're a woman as an excuse for not chasing after what you really want. It's pathetic… you speak of irony and yet you have shapeshifted into a stranger to even yourself, and for what? To please your family, to make a political move, to advance your piece in the game of chess? Whatever it might be… it's just as ironic as what I'm doing."

"Well, you certainly know how to make a woman feel better," Natalia said with a sigh. "It's just, when I was debuted at the Gilded Court as a younger girl, it finally felt as though I was being given freedom - only now, with my brothers coming of age, they will inherit the family's position and leave me a pawn for power. Until such a time as an opportunity presents itself, these suitor meetings are as close to a meaningful choice I get."

It took Leander by surprise when Natalia didn't quip back. Had he struck a cord? It was out of character for her but he appreciated that she had dropped the forced pleasantries and now he was curious. "What opportunity are you waiting for?"

"Gods know at this point," Natalia sighed, sinking into her couch. "So, Leander Kilnwood - am I to leave this room bawling like a little girl, scorned that her advances were shunned? That would put me in good company, I think. Those heartbroken by the Leander Kilnwood."

"Do I have such a reputation?" he asked, though he already knew the answer. Leander grinned devilishly as he leaned forward in his seat, "but no one ever said you had to leave crying. If I recall, no advances have been made yet."

"No, but then I do suppose that is my question - as you mentioned previously, you have the power here," Natalia said. "So what will it be, Leander?"

Leander studied the girl as she sat more relaxed than she had before. He had noticed her green eyes earlier but looking at her now, she wasn't as plain as he had thought she was. Yes, Natalia was thin and almost completely flat chested, but there was a bizarre feminine quality to her that he couldn't describe.

Leander stood from his seat and smiled at Natalia. It wasn't a grin or a smirk, it was a true smile. He crossed the room toward her with elegance and stopped in front of her. His overwhelming presence loomed over her as looked down at her and in a swift motion, he was leaning over top of her, each hand wrapped around either arm of her chair. His green eyes met hers as his face came closer but he stopped shy of imprinting his lips against hers.

"I cannot wed you, Natalia… but this choice, a kiss if you wish, is yours" his voice came in delicate whispers against her skin as he awaited her answer.

Natalia laughed in Leander's face, raising a hand to gently put a finger to Leander's lips.

"Orestra have mercy, Leander, were you not listening to me? Minutes ago I told you I would rather throw myself from that window than wed you, and somehow that gave you the inclination I would let you kiss me?" She said, mirth flooding her tone. "A few honeyed words are not enough to change that."

Leander looked at her unamused and pushed off the arms of the chair back to a standing position in front of her. With one hand on his hip, the other came to ruffle her hair as he started to walk by her and head toward the door. It wasn't everyday that a maiden turned down his advances and he didn't want to show his bruised ego too much. Leander stopped at the side of her chair and looked over his shoulder at her, sitting quaintly as she laughed. He smiled at how happy she looked for a moment, "you know, you are sort of beautiful in your own strange way. Don't let other people make you think otherwise."

Natalia rose from her chair and cupped Leander's face with a tender hand, rising on the tips of her toes to kiss him. She laughed again as she pulled back at the momentary stunned look on the man's otherwise implacable face that faded quickly into its usual calm, assured air. The laughter gave way to a look of pride as she took a step back.

"As if I would be just another woman Leander Kilnwood kissed," she scoffed. "Now I can say I kissed him. Much better story that way, I think."

Leander turned to face the maiden, and in true noble tradition, reached for her hand, took a slight bow, and kissed the top of it gently. "Mi'lady Patitacci, it has been a pleasure. But I must bid farewell. Have a pleasant evening.."

He released her hand and headed toward the door but as he pulled it open, he looked back over his shoulder at her with a grin "throw yourself from a window? Not with a kiss like that, I'm sure you'll be up all night thinking about it. The woman who kissed Leander Kilnwood."

NATALIA

​

Leander had been right after a fashion, and not in the way he thought he might have been. Natalia had been quick to dismiss their brief banter that so-often bordered on flirtation as the rage of her younger self rebelling against the whims of both her parents and the Gilded Court. There had been more suitors to come to the same chamber as Leander, and with each she had looked out the same window she had threatened to jump from yearning to feel a fraction of the way Leander had made her feel. It was not love - she knew that then, and she knew it better now having spent the better part of the last month as Leander's travel companion.

But, Orestra be good, I did feel something being with him.

Natalia chided herself as she pulled her fine-spin white woolen cloak tight around her to fend off the morning chill, grimacing as she caught a glimpse of the splatters of mud and grime that had caked on at its fringes. Her home city was in ruins. She had lost her parents in the rush from Stavinburg. Her betrothed had disappeared without a trace. She had been given a dragon egg. That egg had hatched. And the dragon that had been in that egg was now larger than the horse she had learned to ride on as a girl. To say nothing of the weeks of poor sleep, meager food, and constant marching that left her drained beyond reason.

And all you can think about is Leander-fucking-Kilnwood, she huffed to herself, tapping the amulet of Orestra she wore beside her mother's engagement ring and muttering a quick apology for the profanity.

Natalia smoothed down her forest green dress. As far as her wardrobe went, it was a plain thing, made all the plainer by the steady build-up of muck, though Tiriok had still protested at the finery. The commoners' clothes they had managed to find along their travels had been too big for Natalia's stick-like frame, drifting between ill-fitted at best and indecent at worst. Fine clothes made for an easy tail, Milo had confirmed prior to their departure, and Natalia supposed he would know better than most.

As the group approached the gates, Natalia shuffled to stand by Leander, averting her eyes from his probing glance as they walked. She let her cloak slip free to give the illusion that her figure was fuller than it was - too many in the city knew of Natalia the sickly girl to let such a simple mistake result in failure. Cassimir marched ahead with Tiriok, acting as a buffer between any watchers and Natalia. Though she did not spare a glance Leander's way, neither could she look up at the ruin and devastation that had befallen her home. She had not even dared look to see if the Aegremont still stood along the mountain's face, dreading what might befall her if it like so much else in the city had crumbled into ruins.

They arrived at the city gates and were stopped by two members of some noble family's guard Natalia did not recognize, clutching their weapons in a ready posture. They wore no obvious heraldry, but no simple city watchmen brandished steel that fine. Assuming, she thought with a grimace, they had not looted it from someone else. She cast the thought aside as the lead guard harumphed, slamming the butt of his spear into the ground.

"That'd be far enough there," he said. "Curious seeing travelers come this way - might've thought you saw the way the city was and would turn back."

Natalia bit her lip as Tiriok stepped forward and began the story she had concocted to explain their presence and the reason for her fine clothes.

"We come from Holiveil - my charge here," Tiriok said, gesturing to Natalia and Leander. "Is a member of the Academy of Intrinsic Sciences and was traveling on her academic session break to meet with her family. The man beside her is her cousin, and the lad here is my squire. I was sent to fetch my lady and bring her home, and her cousin volunteered to come with me. We had not expected to find the city in such a state."

The guard glanced to his fellow, who shrugged. It was a lucky happenstance that a break in the academy's session happened to align with the current month, though Natalia supposed these men would not so much as know a true academic from a simple literate man.

Not household men, then, Natalia thought. They would have asked to which family I belong at least.

"If'n you can find them, you're welcome to it - so long as you don't cause too much trouble," the lead guard said, mirroring the shrug.

Without another word, the group slipped past the two guards, who had already turned their attention to the next group of travelers behind them. Natalia let out a breath she had not realized she had been keeping in and tugged her cloak tight around herself once more. Coated in dust and ash, the city was hardly recognizable to Natalia as they pressed through. She felt as though she were caught in a waking dream, populated by the faintest glimmers and snippets of her reality and twisted by her imagination. Familiar, yes, but just different enough to invite confusion and disequilibrium.

Leander took the lead, and Natalia followed behind him, wanting to provide her input when needed but she found herself increasingly distracted by the scenes of carnage around her. Men and women dug through the rubble of ruined houses while stragglers at street corners cut into slain horses and cattle already picked by other scavengers, be they man or beast Natalia wished not to know. Worst of all were the blood stains - some splatters, other droplets, all providing an unwelcome splash of red or brown to contrast the scene of grey, white, and black about her. Sickly enough, the way the red stood out against the white reminded her of home, and she had to force herself to avoid looking up towards where the Aegremont hopefully still stood.

The skeletal remains of a market street Natalia had frequented as a child worsened the uneasy nausea welling up inside her, and reflexively Natalia clutched at Leander's arm to steady herself. She hunched over and retched upon the pavement, tears stinging her eyes just as much as the acid did her throat. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and clenched Leander's arm tighter before taking in a sharp breath that sent her into a coughing fit as she breathed in the unpleasant scents of war and smoke. Once the fit died down, Natalia cast an apologetic glance to her companions and nodded to Leander, a lingering look of disgust tugging at his lips and brow. He continued to lead them on through back streets, the kinds Natalia had been told to avoid as a well-to-do girl on the few occasions she had been let out of the house for matters other than court.

"So much for keeping a low profile," Leander scoffed, earning him a glare from Natalia.

By the time they reached their destination, the sun hung directly overhead. Before them stood the Shade Market, a name Natalia had only heard said in hushed whispers among those at court in Atheno. It was a poorly kept secret, and now greeted with the reality of the situation Natalia was quite disappointed. She had envisioned strange men sheathed in black cloaks swirling about as they spoke in hushed whispers and seedy taverns. There were a handful of less-than-reputable businesses lining the street to be sure, and a whore was making loving eyes at Leander, but for all its hushed fame the Shade Market looked like every other back-alley commoner market she had ever passed.

That is the point, I suppose, Natalia thought ruefully, nudging Leander with her elbow and pointing to one of the brothels and the gaggle of women outside.

"Friends of yours? Or are you too cheap to pay?" She asked in a hushed tone.

Leander's arm wrapped about the small of her back and pulled her close, a gesture only slightly ruined by the way he had to hunch to whisper in her ear.

"Why pay a few silver when I can have it for free? Especially when she clutches my arm like a damsel in distress," he said, and Natalia squirmed from his grip.

"My, I think you are misremembering what exactly happened between us - or what I threatened I'd do at the prospect of sharing a bed with you," Natalia said, words cheapened by the flush in her cheeks.

"Knock it off you two," Tiriok chided. "We've pushed our luck enough without your bickering. Now let us find Kam'Brisa and be done with it - I don't much like the idea of spending more time in the viper's nest if I can help it."

 

[Custodiet Teh]

Oleander Dapplegrey
The Errant carabineer


​

The taste of Maglin air was powerful and instantly recognizable. She could taste the lingering char of the Painted Lands intermingled with the dust of the final harvest, the scents of flora dueling over the attention of insects and even the markings of beasties drifting in from the unspoiled wilds. It was the taste of her youth here in Maglin, ranging with her tribe across the land beholden to none. Despite the dire situation, the memories placed the seed of a smile on her previously stoic face.

"Ah've bin ere ahfore, 'Exarr. Ef enny won 'ere ken howfir tae blen, tis me" She lied flatly, having actually never been in the markets of the two-legs before her exile. Her eyes told the truth however, glancing this way and that as she took in the sights of Shalmarin. Lots and lots of two-legs as one would expect in one of their cities and none of her kind in sight. Not that she really wanted to encounter one of her kin under the explicit orders not to attract attention.

The clan was all probably on warpath now, especially after the scouring the painted lands had undergone. All done up in colors, roaming about and threatening any two leg straying off their roads. Fools. Petty and vindictive. Oleander snorted, wrinkling her nose as she adjusted her hat and the collar of her frocked coat. As if she'd ever be caught dead prowling the backwoods in skins.

Swapping her gait to something akin to a slow walk, her front knees raise as she steps. It was needlessly prideful action but being back among two legs that weren't as accustomed to seeing her kind was a good a reason as any to show off a bit. It felt natural, it looked natural, and it was as the saying went, the best kind of covert is overt.

​

 

[Verran]

Shreds of Humanity
The Chronicler​

Snow crunched beneath my feet as I strode up what was once a mountain path. Winter had broken full force upon the mountains and it was only the simple fact that I had snow shoes that I was able to traverse it at all. And, after purchasing them, I had been severely warned about this final venture to reach home. As if I needed the warning. This was my home. For now. And I was late. Horrendously late. The fact that the land had plummeted into a raging sandstorm had not made any of it easier. I reaffirmed that we would be moving. Kyen'delsia does love the mountains. Perhaps Taz'dien, I mused to myself, It wouldn't be any warmer. Hell, it would probably be colder. Well, that's just life. She'll loath having to…

The hill was littered with frozen corpses. Some impaled upon their comrades weapons. Locked together forever in the throws of death. The door was wide open. And there, half-buried in the snow drifts, was a tiny, Marband arm. A scream of fear and rage screeched into my mind, but I cut it off before it reached my mouth. Up the rest of the path I strode. Ignoring all else but the door. Yet I knew I wouldn't find her there. Storming through the door, a quick glance told me everything I needed to know. One, she was entertaining guests. Numerous guests. Sudden and deep in the night, else she would have called upon the not-so-distant neighbors to help house them all. Two, they left in a hurry. My Sister was many things. Untidy was one. But not this untidy. Quilts strewn about. One of the cupboards was pilfered. Third, my Sister was alive and free. That knowledge came from site beyond site. For there, sitting as pleasant as a sated spider, was a spirit of madness. Its grin told me plenty. My Sister had made a deal and it had learned enough through it that it wanted to know more.

"Speak," I ordered.

It grinned wider in response. A mocking challenge to my command. A desire to bargain for some snippet of my soul. I almost rolled my eyes.

"Speak." Magic poured into my voice. Resonating with greater power than it presumed I had. Revealed in the fact that the spirit suddenly frowned. Its jaw slowly opened against its will and words spilled forth. I learned everything that transpired in minutes. It brought relief to my fear, but flamed my temper. Lioris, I cursed, then said, "you are released."

Immediately, its trap closed. It's eyes narrowed at me in a furious and fearful glare. Then it sped away. Out of the house and beyond my sight. Something of a smirk quirked the corner of my mouth up. Forget-Me-Do deals worked just as well on spirits as the potions worked on people. And I had labored long in the early years of Kyen'delsia's life to drum up a small horde of spirits that would hang about the house. Ready and bound to answer at my beck and call, without them even realizing it. All for nothing. Well, almost nothing. The quirk left my face immediately.

There was no point tearing back down the mountain after them. The party of riders, seer, and blathering escort were long gone. So I packed. Hitching up various clothes, dried foods, tent, and other gear useful for a long journey through the wilderness. The roads were becoming less safe by the day and a lone Klerion on them would, to the right and wrong eyes and ears, be a cause for suspicion. I grabbed the family jewelry, what was left after Kyen'delsia had pilfered it, and was just about to take a step outside when I stopped. Slowly, I turned my head towards the stairs to the second floor. Sighing, I accepted the inevitable and strode up them and into the small chamber my Sister and I had called storage. But, to anyone with keen eyes, they would notice it was oddly polished to be one. Indeed, the trunks slid easily over it as I made my way through a well-orchestrated mess with ease to the back wall. Removing a panel, I beheld two spotless garbs. Fine silk, translucent, embroidered with beads and ample room to decorate with gold or silver chains and gemstones. I removed them. Packed them more carefully than a Gatskin alchemists stores explosive elixirs. Then made my way downstairs.

A cold breeze had begun to blow when I returned outside and locked the door behind me. Yet the sun was still high and I knew I could make it down the mountain before dark. But before I could take my first steps down the slope, I spotted the child's arm again. Alla. Little Alla, a bright joy to my Sister's life. With the shreds of humanity still left me, I uncovered the child and picked her up. I'd get her to where the ground was warm and the fading Autumn flowers still bloomed before Winter claimed all the land. Then I sang into the wind.

"'Fore Spring skies
Upon
This Mountain these men came
Yet surely their souls, beloved to their homes
Are lost, forgotten
So far from their dear land
May be put to rest
And never be disturbed
'Fore Spring."

The breeze grew. Whipping in growing power. The spirits had heard the Shalmai dancer's prayer. They whispered of a blizzard, a mighty storm to cover all the bodies. Not a soul would touch them until Spring. I turned and walked down the mountain.

***

Building Storm
Kyen'delsia​

Kyen'delsia stepped through the portal and Shalmarin spread before her. Dry air swam through her lungs and the sun met her skin with a blessed kiss. She hardly noticed. Elsha'fy had been left behind. Not without extensive mewling and whining on the dragon's end. Kyen'delsia had given her dragon as stern a talking to as she could manage. Made difficult by the fact that Elsha'fy forcibly tried to pin her rider beneath her head. In fact, as soon as Kyen'delsia had told her dragon all about the plan, she was against it. Finding any excuse to be around her rider. Almost corralling her.

Still, there was no helping it. It wouldn't exactly do to bring a dragon to Maglin. Even if she could fit through the portal. She shook off thoughts of her dragon. Melindre would take perfect care of her and the rest of the dragons. In a moment, Kyen'delsia centered herself. Drawing upon reserves of fury. She swept her hair back. Straightened her back. And began to act. "Fine," she hissed, "let's just find my people. What do we know about Shalmarin? City of dance? City of wonder?"

The sounds of the city washed over her with the familiar heat of the sun. Rising above it was the strutting clip-clop of Oleander. A thin smile sliced across her face as she picked up on her plan. "Oh Ole, that is brilliant." And with that, she swept up into a powerful gait. After all, she didn't have any of her proper clothes from home. They'd stick out like sore thumbs anyway. Might as well embrace it. Besides, she disagreed with Hexar in this matter. Kyen'delsia wanted the attention. Let whoever know who took her village. Her people of Trefalda. That she was coming to get them back.

 

[KatSea]

Forge had grown. No...not grown, amplified. Long gone were the days that the warm, scaly creature could curl around her neck and settle his head into the crook of her shoulder. She could no longer hold him in her hands, cradle him to her chest, being reassured by the steady breathing of her companion. Now, Forge stood pridefully on his own, still seeking out the comforting hand of his rider as she stood beside him. He bumped his head against her palm, demanding to be touched, demanding to feel the reassurance of her fingers trailing down his scales. A moment of peace before they put their trust into Hexar, a moment of calm before a plan that could ensure the safety of many, or the end of the line for her and her new found friends. No. It wouldn't go that poorly. True irony it would be, that she ran from a destiny that ensured her doom, only to find herself face first in the mud, unmoving and cold. No. It would be fun. It would be exciting. Helping people in need? While demolishing someone who dare to cross the path of a dragon tamer? Legendary, extraordinary.

"You know, little Forge, I named you after my mother." Haloke mused, unsure if Forge was fully concentrating on her words, or if he was more entranced by nibbling at her wrist, tugging with the patience and gentleness of a creature who wanted to play. "She would cradle me the same way I held you, because I was as demanding of affection as you. I was as insatiable because I could not dream of a world where I was not adored. Vain, perhaps so, but the moment I saw you come into this world, I knew it was impossible for me not to adore you as she did." Her fingers traced behind his head, scratching gingerly at the base of his temple. He made gravelly, low noise, a mixture of a growl and a coo. His large, reptilian eyes dilated briefly, before fully closing in relaxation. "I want nothing more than you to be in my family one day. For you to take the neighborhood children on expeditions through the sky, let them see their home in a perspective they would never otherwise get. I'd want you to get a seat at the dinner table, even though you wouldn't fit. I think...I think Ajei would love you the most." A smile twisted at her lips, but it's intent was bitter, almost dreadful as she spoke. "But I can't go home. Not until I finish this...I didn't think you'd steer me on a path like this, little one, but I'm just glad I'm not doing this alone. I'm glad I have you here with me. And...I'm glad that I have someone to spoil with love. I think you may honestly be the love of my life, little one. I've been blessed, because of you. Don't want you to forget that." Forge's head bopped up from where it had been eagerly tucked beneath her hand, before his cheek smacked into hers, affectionately nuzzling her as she was almost sent sprawling to her feet. "H-hey! Watch the money maker Forge!" If a dragon could laugh, Haloke swore she heard it. And she vowed that she would do everything in her power to hear it again.

---

If a dragon could plead, Forge had the practice down to a science. Haloke's ribs almost cracked with the force of his swinging head, his claws sinking into her sides as she delicately tried to pry the massive beast off her. Separation anxiety ran through both of their veins, but they had to do this quietly, and a dragon made of iron with pulsing red hues beneath his scales was the opposite of subtle. Haloke had ventured on her own before, gotten into silly fights before and made it out alive. Forge didn't care to grasp this fact, nearly gripping Haloke into a bear hug as the plan was shared. Melindre will feed you, I swear she'll take such good care of you that you're going to be fat and plump by the time I come back. Haloke was forced to repeat this mantra, over and over again, until Forge finally relented, orange eyes bleary and miserable. Orestra, is this what being a mother is like? How am I supposed to ever raise kids if I don't want to be apart from this massive, legendary creature for more than fifteen minutes?

Despite this, once Haloke made her way through the portal, she grounded herself in the arid heat that surrounded her. It was just the type of environment she had come to expect when she was spending time with the Fire Nera, and it made a pleasant warmth flutter in her chest. "Right...subtly-" Her eyes trailed along her companions, trying not to let a snort escape her at Oleander. She was an enjoyable woman, that was for sure, but this...this was going to be a fun time. "Funny-" Her eyes scanned Hexar, a crooked smile on her face. "I was going to give the same piece of advice about you~"

 

[SilverPaw]

Collab between Elle Joyner and SilverPaw

Interactions with: Milo and Hexar @Elle Joyner, Kyensi @Verran

​

Roshan was lounging at the campfire, Seren curled around him as Amalfi and dragon enjoyed their breakfast. Roshan was finishing his up lazily, but Seren was still in the middle of hers. For a dragon, she was a surprisingly neat eater when her meals were assured. Of course, if deeply hungering, even she would ferociously tear into her prey. When food was aplenty though, she took her time. Some joked she had better manners than Roshan, though the Amalfi would often be the first to point out that. Whether in their shared similarities or curious differences, Seren was very dear to Roshan. She was family to him now.

When he was done, he stretched briefly, which caused Seren to issue a muffled grumble as he shifted from the position where he'd been leaning against her. Roshan calmingly patted her side, still somewhat bemused how easy it was with Seren and him, being close. And he didn't really mean the physical affection – he was pretty easy going about that with others too – but their emotional bond. Though he detested the position being a Rider brought with it, he couldn't possibly wish it had been otherwise. Because Seren was his, and he was hers. However, he firmly believed they shouldn't mindlessly follow a destiny, some mystically ordained path before them…Rather, they should be allowed to fly free, spread their wings.

Exactly how Milo had done early this morning while he and the dragonette were still deeply asleep. Roshan turned with a grin at the youth, addressing him now that he was comfortably sated.

"So, cub, you and Mist Catcher went on a great solo adventure at dawn, eh?"

Mid-bite, Milo looked up, slightly alarmed at first, before a lazy smile appeared, the tip of his sole canine peeking out of his lip, "H-he was an-an… n-nervous. J-just went 'round the peak, is all!"

"Ha, not bad!" Roshan grinned - though an Amalfi mimicking a flatface's expression was ultimately futile. Still, an amused bark, a twitch of his tail, and other subtle cues were enough to clue in someone of his race. He'd got used to being more obvious about that kinda thing on his travels, and the habit of contorting his snout around a facsimile of a wide, open-mouthed smile stuck. The fact that bareskins either took it the intended way or as a threat was honestly a bonus. It could mess with them in the best of ways.

"We should do something like that during the night," Roshan mused, "Late hours are more our thing," he glanced back at Seren, who was consuming the last few pieces of meat. After she ate, she'd be lazy for a while, but then the energy would build up gradually, and have to be burned up. "Say, if they get into a wrestle," he indicated the pair of dragons, "maybe we could bet on the winner." The suggestion was an irreverent one, but Roshan thought that if the dragons played, their Amalfi companions may as well get some fun out of it too.

"I g-got used to sleeping at n-night back home. M-m-my boss wanted us awake b-bright and early f-for work." Rubbing his elbow, Milo shrugged, "H-haven't got m-much to b-bet, but that could b-be fun. 'Cept Misty's too lazy to f-fight."

Roshan hummed thoughtfully. "It wouldn't have to be money. If you lost, you could…take over some boring chore," he shrugged. "If Mist isn't enthusiastic, then nothing for it then. Seren'll just have to find something else to do when she starts getting active in a few hours." He waved a hand, dismissing his previous idea. Almost immediately, however, he had another one. "How about a card or dice game against me? I could teach you, if you like. No need for bets till you know all 'bout the hows of it."

Sitting up a bit, Milo scratched idly at his ear, "M-m-miss Haloke is teaching me my n-numbers and letters. C-could probably learn cards, too. The older D-dodgers used to p-play…"

"Alright!" Roshan clapped his hands together, delighted. He shuffled closer to Milo, and from somewhere in his jacket, brought out a deck of worn cards, and some well-used dice. "Now, then, let's start with…"

What followed was a thorough introduction to recognizing the face cards, their meanings, showing him the pip cards and confirming Milo could deal with those numbers, explained about the aces and jokers, and so on. Included were instructions on how one might tell if an opponent had marked cards or weighted dice, and how to recognize (or employ) similar assorted tricks. This activity occupied the two Amalfi for a good while.

***​

When the sun was near its zenith, Roshan made his way to where he'd spied the Klerion retreating to the previous evening to start working on his magic. He'd been told it'd take till about noon the next day, so was now ready to go check on him. He wasn't nearly as suspicious of the High Tower's King as his other journey companions seemed to be, but Roshan was admittedly curious about the other man.

Padding his way softly towards the clearing Hexar occupied, Roshan approached unobtrusively enough that the preoccupied man would not notice. He was thoroughly enthralled by the Klerion's intricate dance. What a show! he thought, and wondered if Kyensi knew what a good dancer Hexar was. When the man completed his spell, Roshan was just a little bit awed at the light gate that appeared. This was a portal that would take them straight to Maglin – a kind of magic nearly unbelievable lest one didn't' see it for themselves.

When Hexar turned away from his crafted magical arch, Roshan showed himself, stepping from beyond the tree line where he'd hidden. He smiled, and waved cheerfully, despite knowing Hexar would likely be displeased at having his private moment interrupted. "That was an intriguing way to work magic," Roshan complimented, pointedly looking up and down at Hexar, where his robe clung to his sweat-laden body. Yet, there was also a genuine appreciation of magic hidden beneath his banter.

Fingers curling through his hair, Hexar eyed the amalfi in curiosity for a moment, before giving a slow nod of appreciation, "Shalmai magic is the way of my people. For centuries, we have brought magic to life through song and dance. My mother… she was the greatest practitioner I have ever witnessed."

Roshan nodded, pleasantly surprised at Hexar's friendly response. He'd been expecting grouchiness, to be honest. "I had no idea it was possible to create a portal like that. But it was beautiful." Since the Klerion had been receptive, Roshan freely offered him the compliments. He wasn't sure how to address the man's mother - he had a feeling she may be dead, and would rather avoid the awkwardness if that proved true - so stayed silent on that topic. Instead, after a moment, he commented casually, "I guess that's why you've a sort of connection to Kyensi." There was a questioning lilt to his tone, though Roshan didn't see what else it could be if not their shared way of magic.

A brow lifted, and the edge of his mouth twitched up briefly, "Sometimes like that, indeed. You are from Maglin, yes? Are you familiar, I wonder… with the origin of my people? It's not particularly well known, but I expect there are theories…"

"Oh, yeah, the psychomancy?" Roshan confirmed, head tilting to the side. "Is it true, then?" It was nearly a childish wonder in the manner Roshan asked that, all guileless honesty. He'd considered soul magic either an extinct branch, or possibly a twisted fairytale told to children as a warning against the unknown. In his darkest moments, he'd thought if it'd be worth it, messing with the soul, if it could…But those days were long past, or at least, the questioning was so deeply buried that Roshan's thoughts did not stray for long even now that this topic of conversation came up.

"Indeed." Giving a nod, Hexar clasped his hands behind him, "My mother was one of the original Sol'dien mages who performed the magic, which was responsible for what we became. Of course, that was ages ago, but well… We have very long memories." Turning to the portal, Hexar studied it for a moment or two, before turning back to the amalfi, "It's quite frowned upon, now. Psychomancy. Most ceremonial magic is, of course. But I wonder how opposed people would be to it, if they knew the benefits… The good it could do."

"Well," Roshan started slowly, pondering, "the risks are the only thing known by those of us with shorter lives by now." Still, he would never had guessed that for Klerion, being cursed - if that's what it'd been - was in living memory. Or nearly so. With Hexar being a proponent of psychomancy, Roshan's dormant wish stir, and rise within him. "So - why not tell me about the benefits?" his tone was conspiratory now, and he'd subconsciously leaned closer to Hexar, a hunger about him that hadn't been present before.

Chuckling lightly, not mockingly, but with an air of understanding, Hexar shook his head, "That… my friend, would be quite the lengthy conversation. As it is, we need to leave. But if you are truly interested, when we return, I will tell you all I know. Though I would ask, for obvious reasons, that you keep this conversation between us."

"But of course," Roshan acquiesced. "I know the others wouldn't be receptive. Let's make sure we both make it out alive, eh?" he knocked into the man's side. "I'm really looking forward to that conversation, now."

Soon, the Klerion and Amalfi got to the camp, and preparation to leave commenced. It didn't take long to pack the remaining oddities and change into desert appropriate apparel. One of the lengthiest processes was of the riders saying their goodbyes to the dragons, and convincing the (would be) mighty beasts to stay behind. Even Seren, who was often calm and obedient protested, hanging onto Roshan's clothing with her teeth while he did his best to soothe her. Eventually, the dragonette was convinced, bribed by some of the best toys he'd crafted for her staying behind, a handful of treats, and a lot of head scritches.

Then, their team (blessedly Leander-free, though Roshan would miss being unable to take out his frustrations on an easy target) stepped through the portal, and appeared in Maglin. Home sweet home. It wasn't The Painted Mountains, but it'd been some time since Roshan had breathed the familiar arid spice-scented air, or felt the kind of heat he'd grown up with. Hexar immediately snarked at them, especially at Oleander, but Roshan merely smirked to the side.

However, Kyensi's fury brought the awareness of their situation to the fore, and Roshan's demeanor changed. It was subtle, but there, a shift from a joking mood to a quiet yet difficult to notice seriousness. There was still a casual air to him, his posture loose, gait ambling. Yet, his grin had a predatory intent to it, and his crimson eyes glinted with malice - malice which would be directed at their enemies. "We will find them," he reassured Kyensi. "Shalmarin is also a city of trade, and therefore, a city of information." He caught up to Kyensi, stepping with her side-to-side, and laid a furred palm upon her shoulder, squeezing gently but bracingly.

 

[Owl]

Casimir &Tiriok
Collab with @Elle Joyner

---

Casimir had never thought he'd be relieved to be summoned by a Captain of his order. Whenever he had been called for by his superiors before it had been to reprimand him for this, that and the other. This time he was simply glad to get away from sword practice with Leander. The man seemed to enjoy knocking his ass into the dirt and though Casimir was grateful for anything that could improve the man's mood, the price was felt in every limb.

Aching all over, Casimir sauntered his way over to Captain Tiriok Vicaris, glad to leave the clamour sword practice behind him. At least Milo was getting knocked into the dirt too, though he suspected Leander went a little softer on the wide-eyed, stammering thief. Still, their shared suffering had given them something to talk about at least and he had found the young amalfi to be tougher and braver than he'd first seemed.

The group had made camp up on a hillside overlooking a small valley below. The grass was soft and feathery here and the soil dark and moist. He could know, he'd been tasting it all day only to be prodded by Leander's wooden practice sword and be told by that smug face of his to get back up. One day he'd sweep the man's leg, one day it would be him hovering over Leander instead of the other way around.

One day.

He idly brushed a few remnants of dirt out of his dark, tangled hair as he came up to Tiriok's side.

"You wanted to see me?"

Looking over at the boy, Tiriok's expression warmed with a smile, as he bowed his head, "I did, indeed. I'm sure you've heard, I intend to take a small team into Atheno, tomorrow? I could use your aid in fact. If you're willing, of course. It will be dangerous, and you'll need to leave your dragon behind, but I expect you're up for a little adventure?"

Casimir thought about it for a moment. The thought of leaving Eamon behind made him uneasy even though the black dragon could easily fend for himself.

And Atheno? He'd known they were close but he had assumed they'd circle around it and continue to lay low. He'd only just gotten used to riding Eamon and he had yet to mention his two near-crash landings to anyone, or the one time he'd nearly fallen out of his saddle like Falls-Flat Clawborn.


"At this point I'll do anything that doesn't end with me on the ground," he replied after he'd cast a quick glance over his shoulder. He turned to look at Tiriok and frowned. "Why though? Why Atheno? Why me?"

He had his suspicions but he wasn't about to let on what he'd managed to cobble together from the bits and pieces of hushed conversation that had found its way to his ears.

Chuckling lightly, Tiriok shook his head, "So far, I've asked three of you, and everyone has asked 'why them'. You lot are chosen Riders, destined for greatness, but a simple reconnaissance mission feels out of your depth?" Patting the boy on his shoulder, the knight looked out into the treeline, "Truth be told, actually, it's little to do with your destined greatness. Quite the opposite, this time. Children, even in times of war, have a tendency to go overlooked, lad. You'll lend a certain… credibility to our ruse that we'll certainly need, to navigate such a treacherous situation."

Casimir tried not to grimace yet couldn't help a soft hiss from escaping him at being hit on the back. Tiriok's answer only made him wonder more why he'd been chosen to come along and who his companions would be but he decided not to protest. It wasn't much of a glamorous task to be little more than a part of a ruse but it would certainly be better than staying behind like a coward. Biting his lip, Casimir stepped up on the nearest rock and sat down to take in the view. "So what'll we be doing in Atheno exactly? I think I have a right to know regardless of whether I'd be going or not, and so does Milo."

Just weeks ago he would never have dared to talk to any ranking officer of the order like that, but everything had changed. Everything except the tendency for the adults to keep him and Milo out of their plans. They meant well by it he thought, but they didn't understand it was worse not to know than to be shielded from painful truths.

Laughing again, a soft, rich sound, Tiriok turned fully to Casimir and this time, a hand found his shoulder with a firm hold, "Casimir… I understand your position. I do. I was a young man when I left home for the Phoenix Knights. I had come from a family with very little to do with wars and training, and I had a lot I thought I had to prove. It must be hard, being here. Being chosen for something so… challenging, when you're still young and unfamiliar with the danger, the fear, the risk. Feeling like you have to be brave and strong, all the time. It turns everything into a fight. Even simple questions. At least, that was my experience. It took me, perhaps, too long to recognize that sometimes, that fight isn't really necessary. That not everyone you encounter is an enemy or a superior you need to impress. At length, the point I'm trying to make is… you can just ask. You don't need to assume I'm withholding information from you. You are part of this group, a great deal more important, in fact, than myself, and in order for all of us to succeed, we have to rely on each other. Trust each other."

Releasing him, he leaned back again, "There is information we need to attain in Atheno. A woman there, Klerion, she knows about the Book of Calling, and who… potentially… we're up against. Her name is Kam'brisa. She's something of a merchant, in the Shade Market, and vastly connected throughout the realms. Does that answer your question?"

"It does," Casimir answered after a bout of silence. He neither flinched nor smiled at the almost fatherly squeeze Tiriok gave him, his mind too preoccupied with processing what the man had just said. Now that he knew he had permission to ask, yet more questions came to mind. Questions that had little to do with the task at hand and everything to do with a certain Klerion.

There wasn't a nice or easy way to ask the question that had kept him up for days, not without being direct, not without risking being told or laughed off. "Tiriok…" he started, his voice barely above a whisper. He fired another glance over his shoulder to make sure no one else was within hearing range. "Do you trust Hexar?"

A brow raised a little at the question, and looking up in thought, Tiriok scratched at his chin, "I find the word trust is something of a problematic thing, sometimes. Maybe not problematic, but certainly more… broad than I care for. Ironic, I know, considering I just asked you to trust the others. But trust is, in essence, multifaceted. The way I trust Stormy, for instance… or the men I led is vastly different from the way I might trust a merchant to sell me venison, instead of cat meat. My trust in Haloke is different from the trust I have in Leander. And though I have my reservations, I do, indeed, have some degree of trust in Hexar… or at least I trust that his motivations for being here line up with my own. Do I fully believe that he has no connections to Kar or the Bloodmarked? Not necessarily. But thus far, his actions have reflected our best interests… and he seems to want to help, and until that changes, I see no real reason to treat him as anything but an ally. Does that make sense?"

"I s'pose," Casimir shrugged, but the rest of him told a different story. He squinted at the horizon and mulled what Tiriok had said over in his head. There was some sense in it, he supposed. After all, Hexar hadn't killed anyone yet nor made any other move against them, but neither had he stopped watching Kyen'delsia. It had been hard to miss from the moment Leander had pointed the Klerion's obsession out to him.

Yet, every time Casimir weighed the options he came up with the same, unsatisfying answer: the Klerion's loyalties were simply impossible to guess. If he'd wanted the dragons dead he would've smothered them before they could grow and if he was after the riders, he would've picked them off one by one. There'd been ample opportunity for both and yet they were all still alive and breathing.

But the man's name argued against him.

"Actually," Casimir countered while he picked his nails. "It doesn't make sense, that's the problem." He cocked his head at Tiriok. "Did I hear wrong or did the bloodmarked not call him the King of the high tower? The way I see it either there is another Hexar or we have a king in our midst." He bobbed his shoulders, quick and easy as breathing. "I don't think I'll ever sleep well until he's in chains or proves who he is, though I'd like to see him try to get past a dragon," he added with a faint smile.

"Ah… For that, you'll need to understand a bit more about our culture. Maglin's, that is." Smile fading lightly, Tiriok's eyes shifted, his gaze drifting skyward, watching a small flock of birds as they flitted from tree to tree, "Not commonly known, but it's my home. Before I became a Knight, I lived in Shalmarin. A lot of the way things work there are far different from here, Cas. One of those things being nobility. There are traditional kings and rulers, of course. For the most part, well… it's the people who determine their leaders. Something of a democratic process, if you would. Hexar is a king in his own right, because the people made him one. If he is, indeed, the King of the High Tower, well… his reputation speaks for itself, among the people. And while it is a convenient answer, it does make sense that the likes of Omesh Kar and his followers would use Hexar's name to sway his followers to their side. That said, I greatly respect your discernment, Casimir. No one should be trusted on name alone, and if you have misgivings, while I would encourage you not to be rash, I would say… trust your gut. But never act on it, without reason. Sometimes wariness is justified, but when it isn't, and you make an enemy out of someone you ought not to, it's a bit like swinging a blade by the sharp end, if you catch my meaning."

Casimir nodded. "I do."

He enjoyed the view a little while longer, then slid off the rock, excused himself and made sure to avoid Leander and Milo as he walked back to the center of their encampment with yet more questions weighing down on his mind.

-----

Atheno was a sight to behold though certainly prettier on the outside than the inside, not unlike the people that were born in the city. His impression of the place was further enhanced by the acidic, pungent smell of a half-digested breakfast being deposited on the cobblestones by Natalia. He wrinkled his nose and waved the smell away with his hand. It was terribly unladylike of her but then she had seemed out of her element all this time. He couldn't blame her, just one of Leander's smug quips was enough to encourage violent bowel movements and the man had practically glued himself to her side.

"Don't worry Natalia, those aren't his friends," Casimir said, motioning his head in the direction of the harlots who eyed them with growing suspicion, "he doesn't have any and he's more of a sword swallower anyway, the way he looks at himself in the mirror..."

A grin tugged at his mouth while he walked backward and kept his eyes on the noble woman and the man who'd made every bone in his body hurt. There was no venom in his voice, he was long past feeling animosity towards Leander but he couldn't pass up the opportunity for a low blow in the name of symbolic revenge.

He fired a glance over his shoulder at Tiriok. "Is it much further?"

 

[Pupperr]

Leander Kilnwood
Mentions: Natalia @ze_kraken | Casimir @Owl | Tiriok and Melindre @Elle Joyner ​

Atheno, the Pale City. It was Leander's home, a magnificent place with beauty and brilliance at every corner… but the rubble and carnage that painted the streets now cast a shadow upon what was once his beautiful home. Atheno was barely recognizable. He didn't want to be there because of his father but after seeing the Pale City in destruction, there was a fury brewing inside him wanting to seek revenge on whoever caused it.

Passing through the gates was easy enough when it should not have been, given that he and Natalia were present. Leander had mocked whoever was behind the defenses of the city for not exploiting a guard who would know the people of the city. And then he realized, what if whoever was behind this, wanted them to return?

Leander had led the small group through the back streets to the Shade Market. He had ignored Natalia grasping at his arm and quickening her pace to keep up to him. Although he didn't like how she was using him as a personal clutch, he realized she was not accustomed to the bloodshed that coloured the streets. Only those who were used to the aftermath of battle would be able to stomach such a sight, which was made clear that she could not when her stomach ended up on the ground.

It wasn't long before the group was upon the Shade Market and Natalia was back to mocking him. He played into her little game, as he always did, and as Tiriok always did, disciplined them for it. Leander grunted at him. "Kam'Brisa… do we know anything about her?"

"Yes. Too much, and none of it relevant. I will warn you now, Kam'brisa Cindali is not a friend. She is dangerous. As dangerous as they come, we are not here to strike any bargains, beyond the information we seek. Do not let her talk you into anything... And do underestimate her."

"Of course you would think it's irrelevant… but when you're looking for a needle in a haystack all information is relevant, Tiriok. I'm sure you know in these situations we have to rely on the people of this city to find someone who doesn't want to be found. And the people in the shadows…" Leander nodded to the whore still undressing him with her eyes, "... are always the wealthiest with such knowledge."

"Now tell me, oh great Knight of the Phoenix Ash. Is this Kam'brisa a Marband girl?" Leander asked in such a tone that it was obvious he was mocking Tiriok.

"No. Klerion. From Maglin. But you won't need more than the information I have given you, because I, and I alone, will be dealing with her. I know her. How she works. And I know what's required for the information we need." Tiriok retorted, a bite to his tongue as he answered Leander's question.

Leander pulled his arm from Natalia's grasp and stepped toward the knight with a tone of seriousness upon his face. "Listen here, Knight. Don't forget that you need me here, not the other way around" and then Leander grinned and his face softened to his usual disposition."But there's no reason to get testy. Let's just get on with it. Stay put, look pretty, and I'll be back in a jiff." He announced as he patted his cupped hand against Tiriok's cheek before turning to approach the whore.

Leander wandered over to the harlot who had been ogling him since the group arrived. His arm came over top of her as he leaned against the building she was resting upon. It was clear that he was flirting with the woman as he twirled a piece of her hair around his finger and smiled at her playfully. But he was careful to speak to her in hushed whispers akin to two lovers in bed. Leander brushed the woman's face gently with the back of his hand before handing her something and returning to the group.

"My friend..." he shot Casimir a glare as he made sure to enunciate his words "... knows of a Klerion who dabbles in dealings here in the shadows. Apparently, this woman is somewhat notorious in the Shade Market, known to strike bargains in her favour without the other party realizing it." Leander then looked over to Tiriok, the same serious expression from before returning. "And she warned me not to cross her, which can only mean she is feared around here. I think she matches what you told me about Kam'brisa."

"Not just feared around here, but that about covers it. Of course, I didn't need to chat up a working girl to tell me any of that. But I get it. You need to feel important. Though, Leander?" Looking to him, TIriok's expression shifted into something of a dry smile, one that never fully reached the man's dark eyes, "...Might do you some credit to remember… however needed you are, you can be plenty useful with a few broken fingers. Don't touch me, again. Let's go."

"Oh, but where are you going, dear and brave Knight?" Leander asked, hands on his hips as he wore a smug grin upon his face. "You might not need a working girl to tell you any of that, but you sure do need her to tell you where Kam'brisa is."

"And I'm the one she told.." Leander scratched at his chin as his next words came with a tone of mockery behind them. "Now whatever shall we do…" His green eyes peered over to Tiriok as a sneer appeared on his face, "oh I know. You can ask me nicely where the Klerion merchant is." Leander's hands came to his hips once more "and I want to hear a please."

"You know… there was a time when I actually felt sorry for you. The strain of the position you were born into. But it's abundantly clear to me now, no one with such an entitled sense of privilege could've suffered too deeply. Either show us where the shop is, you self-centered ass, or I will find out for myself, and you can lose whatever last shred of respectability you might actually have possessed at some point. And before you speak and waste any more of our time, do bear in mind… I asked for your aid, but you chose to come. And every minute you are here is a minute longer that your charge is alone in the mountains, with what is essentially a child."

"Well aren't you a bummer.." Leander walked by Tiriok, hands up in the air as he shrugged. He knew there was something off about the knight since the start of their mission; he was a lot more irritated with Leander than he usually was. "I do wonder what has you so on edge though. It couldn't possibly be something to do with Kam'brisa, could it?" Leander looked over at the knight with a quizzical grin. "And for the record, I didn't choose to come."

Leander turned, his hands behind his head cradling it in their woven fingers. He began to walk away, toward an alley, and when he realized no one was right behind him, he called out to them. "Stop standing around, we have someone to meet."

 

[Elle Joyner]

THEME

Marcellus;Quicksand;LB;

THE
RIDERS
of VERLENDIA

DRIVING FORWARD

A deep sigh rumbled from Hexar's chest as he watched the others parade ahead. Since their journey had begun, he'd come to understand their apprehensions towards him, but sometimes… sometimes their stubborn refusal to heed his advice was just senseless.

'My little sandstorm… you should never leap into the fire to spite the flame…'

But of course he had never listened… and neither would they. Not while so many of them were still determined to see him as the villain. But then… she had never listened, either, and look where it got her.

"Perhaps you have a point, Haloke. Or perhaps, we are both wrong…" Folding his outer robe around him, Hexar eased his way through to the front, and in the light of the afternoon sun his ruddy skin glistened crimson, the smooth curve of each horn deep onyx. The colors of his robes showed with dazzling brilliance that sung, even amongst the brightly hued streets of the Shalmarin market. If it was a parade they wanted, he would give it to its fullest.

Eyes turned, and it was not long, indeed, before their small party was central to attentiveness. Some merchants here and there still flocked their wares, but soon enough, an almost eerie silence befell the market. Holding up his hand, Hexar stopped the troupe. A beat… two…

"All hail Lord Hexar Morrid'ian! King of the High Tower!" A shout came from somewhere in the crowd, echoed here and there by others, while murmurs began to fill the silence with an urgent, pregnant tone of anticipation.

"By the Stars… Is it?"

"He's returned to us!"

"But who is he with?"

"Is that an esqurian?"

"It can't really be him…"

"Just let me see…"

"Please! Let us through!" The sound was so desperate, even through the nearly frantic build of voices, Hexar heard it carry to his ears unbidden. Twisting, he found the woman in the crowd and a frown touched his lips as the Sol'dien pushed through the throng, one hand clasped tightly around that of a frail blonde child.

With his gaze fixed so intently, the crowd began to make way for the woman, and she paused, her eyes damp and weary, "My Lord. I am so sorry. Please forgive me… but my daughter. She burns with a fever of a thousand suns… Nothing we have done has given her any relief. I fear the worst if she isn't… Please. Is there anything you can do?"

His eyes lowered to the child, and stepping closer, Hexar knelt slowly before her, a gentle smile touching his mouth as he reached and took her small hand in his, "What is your name, child?"

"...E-emmelia."

"That is a beautiful name. Are you scared, Emmelia?"

"No, M'lord. Momma says you'll make it all better."

"Well… I will certainly try." Tenderly, he brushed a thumb across her cheek before his other hand covered hers and his eyes fell closed. Softly, distinctly foreign words were muttered beneath his breath, and a soft, warm light enveloped the girl's form. The muttering din stilled, and the pressing crowd began to part, stepping back away from the girl, her mother and the Klerion. Slowly, but steadily, the light was pulled like a thread from around the girl, through their clasped hands and into Hexar, and with a final utterance of the strange dialect, his hands pulled free.

Taking in a shuddering breath, Hexar opened his eyes, meeting the girl's gaze, "How do you feel?"

Not speaking, she moved with sudden swiftness, her arms curling around his shoulders in a tight hug. Only when she at last released him did the soft murmur of thanks escape her.

Carefully, wiping sweat from his forehead, Hexar rose to full height, feet somewhat unsteady, "Your daughter will be fine, Miss."

"Thank you…" The woman breathed, and taking Emmalia's hand, she bled back into the crowd, which had begun to press again.

"People of Shalmarin! My people! I am moved by your devotion. But I am on a mission of utter importance. Please… bid me and my friends to continue unhindered. Your kindness will not go unrewarded!"

A moment went by, voices still stammering, before slowly, a path carved through the streets. Turning to the others, Hexar gave a slow nod, "We should keep moving…"

~~§~~​

The Merchant Queen of Atheno

Staring at the face of the sign before him, Tiriok's hands tensed tightly into fists, as the voices of his compatriots fell into mumbled buzzing. Even Leander, for all he demanded Tiriok's ire, faded from his mind. How long had it been? Years had passed, surely, yet every pressing memory felt as fresh as their morning meal. Fingers twitching, he unraveled them and reached for the door handle, pausing before he turned to the trio behind him.

"Just… remember what I said… Do not underestimate her."

Clawing the handle, he pushed the door inward. There was a soft chiming bell as they stepped over the threshold.. The inner workings of the room resembled something of a nomad caravan, with bright colors lining every inch of the place - silks and tapestries, woven quilts and embroidered shawls covered walls and tables, floors and furniture. At the center of the room, a wooden counter wound in a half circle, and at its back shelves were lined with bottles and jars, urns and pots of ceramic. In some, items could be seen, some contained on their own, others floating about in oddly colored liquids. Books were strewn between the items, some open, some not, their covers aged and worn, gold and silver lettering and deep black and blue inks, in languages unfamiliar to most present. Strange, sweet smells filled the air, a haze of incense lingering higher to the low hanging ceiling, heady and floral, with notes of jasmine and almond.

A second door further into the shop swung inward and a figure stepped through, more colorful than the room itself. She wore a deep blue gown, detailed with gold, that clung tightly to a richly blessed figure, cinched at the waist and draping in languid folds around her lower half - the sides opened at the upper thigh, oddly curved weapons sheathed on either side of her bare legs. Her skin was a teal shade, but for what could only be described as scale-like gold freckles that traced the sides of her neck and along pronounced cheekbones, dark hair pulled back in a loose braid giving way to horn of bronze that delicate crested, curved at each end. Her eyes met the patrons, like golden coins, and lips, deep ruby pursed into a pleasant smile as a brow gently arched upwards in surprise.

"...My goodness. What have I done to be so richly blessed by fate as this." Softly, her feet making little to no noise, she approached, "Tiri… How good to see you, little brother."

"Kam…" Though his shoulders tightened with strain, Tiriok didn't move, and the Klerion woman grinned. When he spoke, the tension wound through his tone, barely above a whisper through grit teeth, "Good to see you, too."

"Hm. You never were a very good liar. And who is it you've brought…" Stepping back with almost a theatrical quality, the woman's gaze traveled over the group, lingering on each of the faces before her as her smile twitched into a smirk, "My, oh my. What have we here? An adorable little squireling. And, surely this can't be… a Patitacci… Oh, no, no, no… The Patitacci. How curious a companion for you, little brother. But she is much prettier than they say, isn't she? Though, hmm…" Sniffing slightly, Kam'brisa's gaze moved on dismissively, "And this one…Mm." Stepping lightly again, her eyes moved without compunction and in slow and deliberate suggestion along the length of his form, before rising to meet Leander's gaze. Teeth pinching her lower lip briefly, in a slight purr, she continued, "Leander Kilnwood. What an honor. Oh, the deals I could make with you, darling…"

"Kam'brisa." Tiriok interrupted sharply, stepping towards her with finality, "That's enough. We're not here for that."

"No…" Her gaze not shifting, she shrugged, "I figured as much. But do let a girl dream, Brother." Stalking to the counter, Kam'brisa pulled herself to sit on it, and with a stretch, slowly curved one leg over the other, giving Leander a flashy wink before she looked back to Tiriok, "Go on, then."

"We need information. I know you have it, so don't bother denying it. Direstrine came to you, asking about a book…"

"Oh, but I know about so many books, Tiri…"

"The Book of Calling."

Tapping her chin, Kam'brisa gave a thoughtful hum, "Yes, I suppose I remember that one. What of it?"

"...He wasn't the only one who came to you, was he?"

"Hmm… Now that information. That's going to cost you. Or did you think you could get my secrets for free? We're family, Tiriok… But business is business."

"I know better than that. And I have what you want. I want the information first…"

"Tisk tisk… You know that's not how I work."

"It is, today."

For a moment, Kam'brisa's gaze darkened, narrowing, before softening once more as she leaned back onto her hands, "Fine. He was a handsome fellow… Big and strong. I could've worked wonders in trade with him, except for that terrible temper. He was from Maglin, I believe. Near home."

"A Klerion?" Tiriok added, with a note of apprehensive tension.

"...No." Fingers of one hand tracing circles on the desk face, she shrugged, "Marband, from what I could see of him. Called himself… Slate. Verig Slate. He asked… well, rather he demanded to know where he could find the book and made a very convincing argument against letting Direstrine have it. Wasn't necessary, of course. I'd rather chew my own arm off than give Direstrine the satisfaction of what he wants, probably why I gave that moronic cretin a few geese to chase, first. I heard that book caused quite a stir at that little hatching ceremony over in the Citadel. Is that what you're mixed up in, Tiri?"

"Never you mind what I'm mixed up in." Stepping forward, Tiriok's hand touched the hilt at his side, glaring at the woman on the counter, "...Did you know? What they were planning to do, Kam?"

Studying him for a moment, the Klerion's smile faded slightly, a calculating expression taking its place. Subtly, her hand shifted closer to the sheath at her thigh as she shook her head, "You won't believe me. You never do. But no, Tiri. I didn't know their plans. Didn't care to ask, honestly. And after what they did in Maglin, to the Painted Mountains, well… I'm not exactly looking to ruffle their feathers. Now… That's all the free information I have. Your turn." And with a flick of her wrist, her other hand extended, palm out in expectation, "Let's have it, Brother Mine."

Jaw tight, Tiriok's eyes flickered from hand to face, and he shook his head, "You understand the consequences if you try to sell this to anyone? I won't be able to protect you. Not from them."

"That's very sweet, Tiriok. But you know I don't need your protection." Wiggling her fingers, she smiled, "Come on, now."

"You never did explain why you want it so badly…"

"That answer will cost you more than you can give, I'm afraid. And unless anyone else wants to trade? Well… I'd say we're done"

"No. No one else." With a sigh, Tiriok opened the pouch on his hip and rifling inside, produced his quill, hesitating only briefly before laying it in her open palm, "A deal's a deal."

"Don't pout, dear. I'm sure your pretty beast will give you another. And you were always better than those idiots at the Academy. You'll be back to drawing your pretty little pictures in no time." With another flick of her hand, the quill vanished, her eyes shifting behind Tiriok, to the others, "Whatever you're up to, be mindful. The sun is setting on Verlendia… and it won't be long, yet, till we're all left in the darkness."

"I think it's time we go." Tiriok noted, turning away.

"Don't be a stranger, Brother Mine. I hear Mummy and Daddy are still looking for you… Eager to have their little prince home."

Whipping around, Tiriok narrowed his eyes, "You tell them where I am, Kam, and I swear, I will burn this place to the ground."

A laugh escaped, and Kam'brisa hopped off the counter, circling Tiriok, before moving to the others, pausing momentarily before each of them. Her hand reached out, gently gripping Natalia's chin, then patting Casimir's cheek, before finally, trailing along Leander's forearm, "Relax, Tiriok. We all have our secrets. Don't we, my dears?" Her gaze flickered through the group, lingering on Casimir, before shifting back to her brother, "And there's nothing I do better than keeping secrets. But everything has a price. So do be careful throwing around threats you can't afford to deliv– Oh…"

Turning, pausing, Kam'brisa straightened slightly, a brow quirked, "Well. That's interesting. I believe you have some company. You know my rules, Love. No fighting in my shop… Don't die, Tiri. And should you all survive, you should all come back and see me, sometime. Especially you, Leander. You were always my favorite Kilnwood. Though with all your daddy dearest has been up to, lately, I'd expect no one's much of a Kilnwood fan. Well, besides maybe the Pale Guard… Bye for now."

Her fingers pinched together and she gave a snap, the inside of the shop swiftly evaporating from view as they suddenly found themselves back out in the streets. Reeling from the unexpected shift in their location, Tiriok spun, swearing sharply at the sight that met them in the mouth of the alley. With a grin, the red-haired bloodmarked kicked off the wall and straightened.

"Took you long enough to show…" A hand extended outward, and his fingers curled, a hilt appearing, before giving way to a sharp, curved blade, as blood-red as the scarring on his face, "I was starting to think you lot died down in the valley."

"Bloodmarked…" Pulling his sword free, Tiriok stepped forward, but as he did, a pang of discomfort raced along his arm, burning fiercely into his chest. Quaking, he stumbled back, wavering in place before his knees gave out, the blade dropping beside him, hand pressed to his forehead with a groan, "...What?"

"Curious." Augar took a step, his gaze shifting from Tiriok to the others. Sliding one foot back, an arm extended with the scarlet blade overhead, he smirked, "Now then. Who wants to die, first?"

~~§~~​

The fire crackled, its glow nearly the only light left, the sun now deep below the horizon. Milo leaned forward, his paws extending towards the warmth with a soft sigh. After a meal that left little to the imagination for how a dragon could eat, the creatures had curled together into the caves a ways beyond camp, a large pile of scales and snoring. As near-silence fell in the woods around the campfire, the Amalfi looked up to see Melindre, lost in thought, staring ahead. Sometimes, admittedly, the Oracle disturbed him. She was kind, of course, and in a way, she reminded him of Mercianna… but there was also something so very sad about the woman, and that sadness gave him pause, knowing the myriad visions swirling around her mind.

Now, however, with just the two of them, she seemed somehow diminished… small and fragile, younger than he realized, and he could almost understand why Leander was always so overprotective of her.

"I n-never ask you… H-how are you?" He broke the silence, his stammer soft and slow. Melindre looked up and while her gaze didn't fully find him, he knew she could see with her senses more than he could with his eyes.

"That's sweet of you to ask. I'm alright, Little One. Just… a bit lost in thought."

"About w-what?"

"A lot of things. But mostly… purpose. Pretty soon, they'll be fully grown, the dragons, and well… You shan't need me. And that's alright." He opened his mouth to protest, but Melindre held up a hand, "Honestly, it is. I was never meant to be more than a guide. My role beyond your naming is… insignificant at best, and costly at its worst. It would be wise, and safest if I were to go. But I also did not expect to care so much about you all. And it will be hard to leave."

"L-leave? W-who says you gotta l-leave?" Milo straightened, frowning deeply enough that his lone canine nearly pierced his lower lip.

"No one, directly, dear. But there's little more than I can do. And I'm afraid I would be something of a detriment to your cause. Leander will take me home soon. But I… I will miss you all. Especially you, Milo."

"W-what? No. Y-you can't… W-we still need… I don't w-want you to g-g-g l-leave…"

Chuckling lightly, Melindre leaned over and cupped a paw in her hand, "Sweet Milo. Someday, soon, you will understand your own purpose. I don't doubt for one moment, you are destined for great things. And you won't need me to find that purpose. But I am a danger to all of you, and I worry that it will only get worse once you leave Verlendia. My kind are not so greatly revered on other continents…"

A muffled sniff escaped, and Milo pooled his arms around her middle. Melindre straightened for a moment, before her arm came to rest between his shoulders

"W-we'll keep you safe."

"I don't doubt that. But that's part of the problem. In protecting me, you can't do what you're meant to do. The world needs you."

"W-we need you, t-too, Miss Meli–"

"Shh." Sharply, Melindre sat up, finger raised to her lips. A short distance away, barely distinguished above the snapping of the flames, footfall could be heard, closing in on the campsite.

"Someone's coming." Rising, Melindre pried her blade from its sheath, gripping the hilt with intensity, "Milo… Head for the caves. Do not leave their safety until I call for you…"

Stammering, the amalfi stood up, and Melindre whipped towards him, "Go! Now!"

~~§~~​

His padded steps carried into the woods, just as more footfall broke through the ring around the camp. Her ears picked up the sound of three figures, moving with swiftness, and while darkness flooded her vision, she could see them in her mind's eye, clear as day. With an arc of her blade, downward, then in a sweeping slash, steel met steel, then skin, the first intruder falling without a cry. Her form twisted, ducked and rolled, blade cast airborne while she dove out of the second figure's path, and catching it midair, she righted herself to her feet again. She jabbed forward, sinking the sharp bite of its tip into the assailant. With a swift whirl, she expected to meet the third figure's weapon with her own, but struck instead what felt like stone. Before she could even register the immense pain that rippled up her arm and through her shoulder, her weapon was rent from her grasp and tossed aside, the thick, meaty hand of her massive opposition closing around her throat. Her feet left the ground and with a gasp, Melindre struggled, fingernails digging into the hand. Like wheat chaff, she was hurled across the campsite, landing hard on her side, momentum carrying her helplessly into a barrel roll, where a trunk halted her abruptly and agonizingly.

"Little girl… Did you truly expect to best Captain Slate?"

Heavy steps came closer, and wheezing out a groan, Melindre tried to push herself upright, a palm pressed hard against her ribcage. Somewhere deep in the back of her mind, she recalled Leander's concern before leaving, and found herself wishing she'd told him to stay. Before she could stand, that same menacing grasp found her shoulders and she was pried from the ground once again, back shoved into the trunk, "I am commander of the Specter's Watchmen. Champion of Omesh Kar, himself. I could break you in a thousand different ways without a weapon in hand…"

The cold touch of steel pressed gingerly against her neck, and Melindre's jaw tensed, fighting against a quivering dread. "Yet you brought a blade, all the same. This little girl must scare you, indeed, to need such a boon…"

She could feel his breath, hot and sour, as he leaned in, the sharp pinch of the knife, breaking skin, "I am going to enjoy taking you apart, sightless bi-- Augh!"

With the sudden cry and a splash of something warm and wet across her face, Melindre found herself hitting the ground unexpectedly, where she was dropped, Slate's form shifting away from her, stumbling briefly.

"You l-leave her alone, ya big b-bully!" Milo's voice, despite the quake, carried surprising fierceness, and had fear not so readily assailed her in that moment, pride might have won out.

"Stupid Welp…" Slate growled, "I'm gonna tear you to shreds!"

"Gotta catch me, first, Pissant!" A warm paw enveloping her hand, Melindre was yanked upright, and before she could reason what was happening, they were moving. Sticks and twigs and leaves crunched under foot and whipped at her face, but trusting Milo's lead, she did not hesitate, ignoring each painful slap or slice, in lieu of what would undoubtedly have been her end.

"I told you to hide!" She still managed, with an edge of affection.

"G-good thing I didn't listen! Duck!" And as she barely missed taking her head off on a low hanging branch, he squeezed her hand, "He'll catch up… We gotta keep going. Little-Ah! Duck again! L-little bit further now! Just keep going! Almost there… And stop!"

They skidded to a halt, Melindre nearly barreling into the amalfi, before she found herself being swung to the side, instead, propelled behind Milo. A low growl echoed from a short distance away, Slate crashing through the treeline. Milo's grip tightened, "Don't move. We're right w-where we need to be…"

"Enough games!" Slate shouted, and Melindre could make out the sound of something heavy, being dragged across the ground, "Just for that, I'm gonna crush you're scrawny, sorry skull… then I'm gonna make her beg for death, pathetic little--"

WHAM

The sickening crunching sound was followed by a gut wrenching shriek, and for a solid stretch of time, Melindre's mind could not reconcile exactly what might have happened until Milo let out a breath beside her, and gave her hand another squeeze, "It's okay n-now. He's g-gone… Misty got him, Miss M-melindre. We're s-safe."

"...Misty…got him?"

"...Y-yeah. Kn-knocked him off… into the r-ravine."

"Milo!" It was an unintended exclamation, one that hinged somewhere between shock, horror and pride, "Did you just–"

"Throw a c-crazy guy off a cliff? Mmyup. Well… M-misty did, anyway." Pausing, the amalfi seemed to think twice about his tone, before clearing his throat, "H-he was gonna kill you, M-miss Mel…"

With a sigh, Melindre reached out and caught Milo by the shoulders, tugging him into a hug, "Thank you, Little One. Though I trust after today, I will have to find something better to call you. You are not so little, are you? No… my darling. You are brave and wise, and I am very grateful to have you by my side."

After a minute or two, sniffing, Milo pulled away from the embrace, and Melindre felt his paw close around her hand again, "C'mon. W-we should check the other d-dragons and m-maybe f-find a safe place to l-law low, till everyo-o-ne gets back."

GM NOTES

TAGS || @KatSea, @Owl, @Verran, @ze_kraken, USER=27916]@Pupperr[/USER], @Custodiet Teh, @SilverPaw

Interactive Elements |

After a strange and unexpected display in the city square, the Maglin team presses forward, heading towards the center of Shalmarin, and towards the prisoner's keep…

Meanwhile in Atheno, Kam'brisa's information delivered, at the cost of Tiriok's Artisan quill, the team has been thrust back onto the market alley and come face to face with the Bloodmarked, Augar. As Augar prepares his assault, Tiriok suddenly collapses.

[/div

 

[Verran]

Crossbreeze
Kyen'delsia & Hexar​

Kyen'delsia was building her tempest. Striding along the desert street, hand pressed gently to Olee's flank. A softly spoken bond of trust that Kyen'delsia felt comfortable with the arrangement. A steadfast guide in this strange new land. One that allowed her to focus completely inward. Building her internal fury. Hardly aware of the world around her. Of the suddenly pressing crowd and clamor of voices until, finally, they stopped. Snapping back to reality with a snarl, "Why are we…" she began, but then her ears caught up with her words. Voices, no, pleas swirled around Kyen'delsia and she was, for a few critical moments, stunned and stalled at what she heard. These people trusted Hexar. Adored him! It seemed. And the child immediately harkened her grief-filled memory to Alla. Lying cold and frozen upon her mountain home. Yet here, was being saved. In a small way, the suffering of the world was brought home to her. The tempest that had been building to a sandstorm to sweep the world, stalled. She was still angry, and certainly no less determined, but…

Gently, as Hexar called them forward, she drifted away from Oleander and slipped her arm around Hexar's. Kyen'delsia bit her lip. Trying to find the words. Should I apologize? Her pride said no. Instead, she said quietly, "that was a wonderful thing to do. … Thank you for opening the gate for us to be here. Even this chance means … well, everything to me."

For a fraction of a moment, Hexar's expression bore only surprise, a twist of shock, almost, as he stared at the arm looped through his. Only when Kyensi spoke did he gaze shift, and with a small smile, he gave the woman a gentle pat on her hand, "You needn't thank me. It's just… the right thing to do. I only hope we can find them and send them home."

There was a pause, then he continued with a note of curiosity, "Have you been here, before? Maglin?"

Comfortably settling into his gait. Through sheer sense alone, she matched his stride, his gait, perfectly. Feeling, through his arm, the rise and fall of his shoulders, which connected down into his legs. Giving her a perfect read to its motion. Kyen'delsia curled her lips into a wan smile. "I hope so too. But, well, heh, no. I have never been to Maglin. Verlendia being my home, the fact that I can't see beyond my eyelids, and with the war still fresh in most everyone's minds made heading to Maglin a rather, hmm, unfavorable option to my Sister. So we stayed in Trefalda. Describe it for me?"

It was still a mark that, no matter how downtrodden, enraged, or fueled by unstable, chaotic emotion Kyensi was, she was still a chatterbox dancer. Easily noticed, not only by her stream words, but that she unconsciously slipped a little sashay into her escort with Hexar.

"Well, to start… There is a great deal of sand. One would think that alone could rob the place of beauty. And for some, maybe that is true. But there is… such beauty, all the same. Everything is bright and warm, that sand like a canvas, a pale world made for color. Everywhere you look, from the mountains, to the trees, to the homes, to the people themselves, there's a richness as bold and brilliant as sunlight. Maglin is a vastly different place, I suppose, than Verlendia. not just in appearance. Everything here… its very core… is deepened by mystery, strengthened by solidarity and enhanced by culture. The very nature of Maglin is like a dance… sometimes fast and wild, intense, sometimes slow and deliberate, graceful, always a wonder to watch, every measure practiced and weighed. Were I able, Kyensi, I would give you my eyes, if only so you could see it all… but even then, Maglin is something that goes so much further than what you see. It takes every sense captive, and does not relent, even when you leave it. It lingers in the heart and in the mind…"

Pausing, he glanced over at her, "You talk about her a lot. Your sister. You're close, then?"

"It sounds lovely! And I'd take your offer for your eyes if the beauty you describe wouldn't immediately blind me again. Really, why isn't the whole land blind? Does it mark visitors so readily or does one need to live in the land for it to reach? Let us hope it does not spell bind so that you cannot ever leave it again! That would put quite the damper upon our purpose," Kyen'delsia chimed and, at the mere mention of her sister, a brilliant smile lit up her face.

"Oh yes! We've lived together always, of course. She taught me my steps and carried me about the village. Strong and queenly in all manners. None dared to withstand her will! With skin of crimson fire, horns of blood, and eyes of purest gold, I know for a fair fact that all would have sought her hand. If she ever wanted one, but she seems not so interested right now. And her stories! My goodness her stories. Can't forget her stories. She's a Chronicler. Which, in Verlendia, are a guild of collectors. Picking up tales and stories across the land and dramatically, but accurately, tell them. Every night she'd read me snippets of all she's ever picked up across her travels. That's why she wasn't there that night. She was…late." Kyen'delsia's face fell. Wondering and worrying as to why her Sister was late. Did something happen to her? Was she alright?

"And what of your other family?" There was an edge of apprehension to the question, as though asking something one had already assumed an answer to, "Your sister raised you alone?"

"I, well, yes…why?"

"That must have been difficult on you both …" Falling quiet for a moment, he seemed to think at length before continuing quietly, "I was abandoned as a child. Were it not for the ones who took me in, these desert lands might have claimed me. For a time, as a young boy, I knew the wealth of a loving home. But my mother… she obsessed over the loss of her husband. Over the tragedies of the war. To her credit, she did her best, but in the end her grief… her bitterness became consuming. For a great deal too long, I waited for her to come back. To find me. She never did… and some time later, when I was old enough, I sought her out. But she was gone. I learned from those in our village that she had taken in another child… In many ways, I suppose these things forged who I am, but there is a part of me that would give up everything I've become, to go back and change it all."

It was Kyen'delsia's turn to fall silent. After a moment she tilted her head against Hexar's for a moment of brief compassion. "I can't even begin to imagine what that must have been like. I hope you were able to find, well, someone to be there for you through it all. Thinking about what you have changed sounds like a good way to go crazy though. But, I'm glad that, for all you had to go through, you're here today to help us. Help me. In getting my people back and raising all of our … friends." Omitting the fact that they were, of course, raising dragons.

"Our people are resilient… if nothing else. Enduring is what we do." With a faint smile, he shrugged, "What I went through was necessary, to prepare me for the life I was intended to lead. And it put me on this path, now. I only wish I could do more. Someday, someday… there will be peace across our nations, and if I can be a part of that, then my pain… will be well worth it. Ah… we're nearly there."

"I know there will be peace and thank you for your sacrifice in seeing it come to pass," she whispered. Then, with a sudden grin, she cried, "there it is!" Pointing wildly in some random direction.

 

[Custodiet Teh]

Oleander Dapplegrey: Self proclaimed savior of the Esquirian peoples



To say that the experience of yet again being an object of curiosity, an alien sort of being to be fawned over and gawked at was finally finding itself going stale would have been the worst sort of out right lie.

Oleander was loving it. Emboldened by the affirmation she felt by Kynsei and Hexar and by the fact that seemingly each time they entered a populated area, the assembled peoples decided to treat her with idolization. The oohs and ahhs, the looks of wonder. It was a far cry from the last looks of distrust and betrayal she'd had gotten at her banishment from the tribe. It was a balm to the raw patches of her heart and she was determined to return the gratitude she felt for the peoples of Maglin before her.

"Aye aye! Come oan firth 'n see!" Her smile bright and wide, showing whites of her teeth. Her voice booming as she removed her hat to wave to the crowd, prancing carefully as she stepped through.

"Fawlk o' Maglin, wee ah'll hae come tae be boons tae ye awl! Hexar, he haes assembled th' maist impressive saert o' pals, do nae bae daunted! tak' note 'n' spread word! Fir a'hm Oleander, Oleander th' Dappled n' Grey! Bear'n th' future o' Esquirian peoples. Freend o' twa shanks n' champion o' th' riders!"

Her voice carried through the crowd with ease as she contemplated firing off her weapon to make a physical point of punctuation.

In moments like this, she considered the quest so far. Comparatively, this hadn't been so bad. The two legs could huff and puff as they walked along but the ranging that they'd done so far hadn't really gotten to her yet. She didn't feel tired the same way they were. She also wasn't tied down the same way they were. Maybe it was a bit early to say so but the adventure so far hadn't been as bad as she'd been expecting.

Oleander clipped and clopped along, heading to the front to duck down beside the two klerion chatted and stood close as they marched along. Rather, Kyen'delsia seemed to be speaking. Rapidly too. Her language quick enough for Oleander to second guess the language.

Speaking up after dodging the pointing finger of the blind dancer, Oleander laughed.

"Yew twa keep oan th' sairt o' close tawlk 'n ah'll be ah'grown concairn fir th' tents ah't camp. Nae be wantin 'hairns reppin th'm wit' hairns ah locken 'n knocken"

She gestures to her own growing nubs of antlers and to theirs, imitating them ripping through the fabric of their tents.

Finally, gazing up and down at the direction that had been pointed out.

"Yew shair th' be th' way?"

 

[ze_kraken]

VISIONS OF BLOOD

​

"How dare you!" Natalia exclaimed, shouldering past Leander to stare down the Bloodmarked. "You have just assaulted a member of the Phoenix Knights, and accosted not one but two members of Athenoan nobility! Do you have the fondest idea what that means for-"

A strong hand gripped her by the bicep and pulled her back. Natalia, caught mid-sentence, put up no resistance and almost tumbled over Tiriok as she was pushed back. The Phoenix Knight's free hand came up to steady her, and Natalia glowered as Leander shuffled forward to occupy the spot she had a moment before, one arm still stretched out protectively in front of her.

"Leander, stop! He must be made to see reason! He can't just-"

"Stop" Leander's voice sliced through Natalia's in a chillingly calm but serious tone that he only used when it came to battle. His eyes looked over his shoulder at her on the ground, careful to remain facing the Bloodmarked before them while Leander addressed her. "Don't be stupid, Natalia, he would kill you. Your nobility means nothing here." The coldness behind his voice was like ice. "The only thing you can do right now is to watch over Tiriok and the kid… and when you can, run."

"Natalia..." Casimir hooked his boot under Tiriok's sword, lobbed the castle-forged blade in her direction and unsheathed his own sword with a scrape of steel and leather. Brows furrowed, Casimir came up beside Leander, determined to stand his ground. "This is Leander Kilnwood, and he's the greatest swordsman in all the lands."

Leander shot a look at the young squire by his side. With a swift motion, he disarmed Casimir and spun the boy on his heel before pushing him back toward Natalia and Tiriok. "I don't need your help, they do. Protect them."

Leander then drew his sword and swung the steel in his hand twice as he readied his stance. His other hand remained free, but open and ready. One boot slid back across the cobblestone as his weight shifted and centered. He looked at Augar with seriousness, "I think the answer to your question, Augar. Is yo—"

Flashes of steel struck each other. Men fell. Fingernails clawed at a hand wrapped around a neck, feet dangled. Then tumbling, tumbling, tumbling.

'Little girl, did you truly expect to beat Captain Slate?'

Cold steel against flesh. Breath, hot and sour. Blood.

"... Melindre.." Leander mouthed her name, careful not to speak it. The vision had come quick and fast and broken. But it was clear that she was danger… maybe even dead. And there was nothing he could do about it because she forced him to go to Atheno even when he cautioned her. And now he had to babysit three useless sacks of potatoes while squaring off against the Bloodmarked. Leander was irritated.

Leander's hand tightened around the hilt of his sword while he looked into the eyes of the red stained faced man in front of him. "Well, what are you waiting for, are you scared?"

"Greatest in the land. Heh. The whiny little princess there is scarier than you. Course, someone should probably tell her, there is more nobility in Atheno… unless you count the ones who bowed the knee to the Pale Guard. But that's besides the point… Let's have it, boy…"

Blade swinging in front of him, Augar dug his feet in, expectant.

Leander rushed forward, swinging his sword toward the Bloodmarked in a sweeping motion. Augar brought his blade up to match Leander's and the sound of steel clashing echoed through the alleyway. Each party jumped back and readied themselves again.

The two stared at each other for what seemed like years and when Leander realized Augar wasn't going to make a move, he rushed in again. The two danced together as blades flew every which way. Bodies rolled, tumbled, and spun. Again, the two separated. Augar wore a grin that annoyed Leander. The Bloodmarked was toying with him. He could tell by how he pulled his slashes. What did he want if not to kill them? What was he stalling for? Leander didn't have time for this, Melindre was in trouble.

"I'm done playing games with you,Bloodmarked" Leander sneered. His open hand came forward quickly and a brilliantly blinding light shot toward Augar. Leander looked back behind him at the trio, "Go, NOW".

Somewhere during the fight, if Augar's teasingly tame display could be called as much, Tiriok had managed to right himself again, and as the flash of light erupted and the bloodmarked stumbled back, arm barring his eyes, the knight gave a nod to Leander, before he grabbed Natalia by the arm, and sprinted for the alley exit, "Time to run, Cas!"

With a scowl and a stomp of his feet, Casimir followed, bile rising in his throat. Again he had been shoved aside, again he was on the run, again he was made to flee like a coward. With gritted teeth he chased after Tiriok's coattails and wished he'd brought a bow and arrow instead.

Together they ran through the alley, bursting out into the Shade Market to a small uproar as passersby lurched out of the way of Leander and his bare steel. Natalia lagged behind, skirts hiked up and cloak flapping behind her like a great veil of ash, her shoes sticking in the paving stones as she ran along. Tiriok did not stray far from her side as they rushed through the Shade Market out the way they had come, passing too quickly for strangers to ask questions and leaving a cloud of curiosity in their wake. None dared to call for a city watchman, if such a thing still existed in the war-torn Atheno.

They did not stop upon leaving the Shade Market. Their frantic flight took them from street to street in a winding, mazing path to shake off whatever pursuers might have picked up the trail after the Bloodmarked. For a moment they paused in the ruined outline of what might have once been a tavern to catch their breath before they resumed their escape. Through a combination of direction from both Natalia and Leander, the group made their way back through the gate they had come.

The two guards at the gate jolted to life as they rushed through, and one of them - the same that had spoken to them mere hours before - cleared his throat.

"Oie, you're the same lot, the one with the-"

Before he could finish his statement, Natalia had loosened her white cloak and tossed it at the man. His companion stepped forward, spear held in a ready grip but was cut off by Casimir sweeping the man's leg. With a crunch and a shout of surprise, the guard was downed just as Leander knocked the man ensnared in Natalia's cloak. Natalia made to retrieve the cloak from the fallen guard, only to be roughly dragged away by Tiriok.

"No time," he snarled, and Natalia flinched away from his grip, eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Tiriok, your hand - it, it…" She shook her head. "No time."

Passing bewildered onlookers who took the opportunity of the downed men to rush into the city, the group pressed on, continuing to run from Atheno until they found a patch of woods to hide in, free from prying eyes from the walls of the city they had left behind. Natalia knelt and let out a shaking breath, glancing at Casimir and Leander, and then at Tiriok.

Panting, Casimir rested his hands on his knees then wiped the sweat off his brow. "We could've taken him on," he growled at no one in particular. "We're shite being riders if we're on the run forever."

"It is the height of dishonor to butcher nobility in the street!" Natalia exclaimed, nodding vigorously in agreement with Casimir. "He should have been made to see reason, be it with words or that sword of yours, Leander."

Rubbing his forehead, Tiriok leaned against his hand, "The question isn't why Leander didn't fight. The question is why wasn't Augar trying…" Looking up, the knight's expression darkened slightly, "Went up against that piece of work back at Kyensi's place. He might be a monster, but he's a damn good fighter. Looked like he was sparring back there. Though… now that I've arrived there, and not that I feel the need to complain presently, but I am curious, why did we run?"

"Because he said so," Casimir answered hotly, motioning vaguely toward Leander, "and because I can't well fight that maniac without my sword, no matter how terribly insulting he was," he finished with a glower in Natalia's direction.

"Oh, yes, let the squire boy cast his judging glance on the least-equipped among us all," Natalia spat, eyes narrowing in a glare to mirror the squire's. "Here Natalia - have this sword. I know you haven't ever carried a fucking blade in your life, but come fight a monster."

Her hand reflexively grabbed at the amulet of Orestra about her neck.

"Never you mind for a moment that I never asked for any of this. Not the dragon egg, or the Bloodmarked, or…" She cast a glance back towards Atheno and shook her head, choking down the last of her words.

Casimir snorted. "Are you done feeling sorry for yourself? You're almost as insufferable as-"

"Enough. Both of you." The words came with a note of finality, but not the harshness he'd used back in the city, and there was a glimmer of sympathy cast towards the young noble woman, before he looked instead to Leander, "Much as I'd like to think you were concerned for our well being, I highly doubt that's the reason you didn't turn that red haired psychopath to kindling… Care to enlighten?"

Leander's attention was not on the three squabbling behind him, but rather in the direction of the camp he had left Melindre. Knuckles whitened at his side. He could feel the rage inside him bubbling up as the hens continued to squawk. Leander turned toward them, "...why? He sneered. Leander threw Casimir's blade at his feet and shook his head lightly. "Gee, I don't know. Maybe it's because I have a child who thinks he can face a warrior after a few practice sessions, a sickly woman who has no clue how to handle a blade, and a Phoenix Knight who was paralyzed with fear. And you said it yourself, Tiriok. He wasn't trying. Why wasn't he trying? We don't know the reason, was it a set up? What was he after? … it was too dangerous to look after the three of you and fight him seriously."

Leander's focus shifted back to the direction of the camp. "...and there's trouble back at the camp.. I think.. I think something has happened to Melindre. I had a vision.. I saw her.. or, or.. I was her… they're in trouble. And we have to get to them. I couldn't protect the three of you… fight Augar… and get to her…"

Straightening with a deep breath, Tiriok rose to his feet again, "Ignoring for a moment that you once again presume to know everything… What exactly did you see? Spare no details."

"It's hard to explain… I felt her. It was like… It was like I was looking through her eyes. I remember the camp in the background.. And.. and… there were men. I could see her sword. Some of them, died. But then…" Leander's hand instinctually came to his neck as he relived the image. "... there was a hand around my neck… or Melindre's neck? It felt so tight…"

Leander stared into his hand as he pictured Melindre kicking her feet, attempting to get away. He winced in pain as he felt her tumble against the ground as she was thrown. "... he called himself Captain Slate… I can feel the chill of the steel against my skin… and… blood."

"We don't have time for this!" His plea was desperate, "I'm going. She's in trouble." As quickly as his words cut the air, he had turned in the direction of the camp and broke into a sprint.

"Don't get yourself killed, Lord Kilnwood," Natalia called after Leander.

As Leander tore off, Tiriok held up a hand to the others, shaking his head, "Let him go on ahead. We needn't slow him down. If something has happened, there isn't much we can do… and it seems, at least for the moment, that the dragons are safe… or you would have felt it. And I… I could use a moment to catch my breath."

Casimir picked up his blade and shoved it back into its sheath. There were many things he would've liked to say to Leander, but they would have to wait. His gaze, losing none of its scorn, landed on Tiriok. "You mean you could use a moment to explain yourself, like why Kam'brisa called you her brother, for starters."

Grimacing lightly, but not without a dry smile, Tiriok shook his head, "Caught that, did you? Ah, well. I rather expected it to come up eventually. She called me that because she is my sister. Adopted, obviously. Here in Verlendia… I am known as Tiriok Vicaris… Captain of the 9th Regiment of the Phoenix Knights… But by all birthright, I am also the son and heir of Neir'tel Cindali, head of the Serpent's Path… Crown Prince, for lack of a better term, of Shalmarin." Looking up, his expression slightly sheepish, he shrugged, "Bit of a long winded title."

"And you traded that for command of a regiment?" Natalia asked. "Wait - no, that can be a story for another time. Captain Vicaris, your hand - when you grabbed me earlier, you felt feverish. We must get you to a safe place to rest, and see if someone can see to whatever it is that Bloodmarked did to you."

"I would have traded it for a quiet life on a farm, Natalia. But that is a story we haven't the time for, at the moment. Anyway… I'm feeling alright, now. The strange thing is, I don't think Augar had anything to do with it. Just not sure what happened."

"Orestra be kind, are all men so stubborn?" Natalia huffed, shaking her head. "Regardless of who did what to whom, I know what I felt. A man's hand ought not to feel like he just shoved it on a stove top, so Captain, on your feet. It's bad enough we may yet lose the Lady Melindre if Leander's to be believed, let alone one so valuable as you."

"Stubborn maybe… but even I know well enough not to argue with a Lady. Though I'd certainly question your measure of value..." Straightening up to height, he looked between the two and gave a nod, "Let's go. Be on guard. We may not be entirely out of danger. Best keep that blade out, Cas."

 

[SilverPaw]

As expected, Hexar was immediately recognized as the King. It was amusing all in all; they, the weird assorted bunch preceding him, Hexar smack in the centre making his glorious entrance…Yeah, okay, that might have been an exaggeration, because no one of this lot, including Roshan himself, really arranged themselves so purposefully. However, the Amalfi was sure that from the perspective of the Shalmarin locals, it was a fabulous homecoming nonetheless.

He had quite some fun joining in on the fame production with Oleander, though more so in a supporting role – after all, an Esquiran would truly draw the most attention, even if her speech pattern was difficult to understand, and her sheer appearance baffling. So, he waved, and hollered short greeting as well, nothing of much consequence beyond making a racket spreading the cheer.

He happened to have some spare nearly-harmless projectiles, which he threw high up into the air, whereupon they exploded with a bang, and released colored smoke and light. A mini-fireworks essentially. They could be used on missions when stealth was unnecessary or no longer viable as a way to distract the enemy, but here, their release was for the simple pleasure for it. Though, admittedly, some of the crowd was rather startled by it. Oh, well.

After the initial theatrics, a Sol'dien woman with her child pushed their way through the crowd, asking for assistance. Naturally, Hexar obliged, healing the girl right there and then. Roshan couldn't help but wonder whether that was Shalmai magic, or psychomancy. It would be quite thrilling if it were the latter; it would mean Hexar was practicing forbidden magic in the middle of a crowd, with none the wiser…None, but him.

Unfortunately, Roshan wasn't familiar enough with either branch of magic to know, so rather than being in on the secret, all he had for now was speculation. Nonetheless, the sight made him all the anticipatory for that promised conversation.

Also, he clearly wasn't the only one appreciative of Hexar's prowess or kind actions. Kyensi went right over, attached herself right to him, and proceeded to walk alongside him. Who could blame her? Truly, he related. He'd do the same, if his advances had any chance of being accepted. Unfortunately, Hexar didn't have eyes for anyone beside Kyensi. Ah, two pretty Klerion together. It made sense, and they fit together well in a conventionally aesthetic manner.

He could be true to himself, if no one else; he was just a tad jealous. Now, his chances to make either of those two his catch had dropped dramatically. Unless? No, surely they would not be interested in such a thing…would they? It was while Roshan was considering how realistic the possibility for him to be with the both of them was that Oleander made her crude comment.

It made Roshan snort, and since his thoughts had been in line with the Esquiran's insinuations, he couldn't prevent himself from retorting. "Clearly, all they need is someone in the middle –" as soon as he realized he was running his mouth and was about to make things even more awkward than Oleander had, he interrupted himself with some awfully faked coughing.

"Khm, that is, we should be on our way, yes?" he added innocently, forcefully pushing aside that line of conversation.

 

[Pupperr]

Leander Kilnwood
Interactions: Melindre and Milo @Elle Joyner​

Leander raced along the path back to camp with all the speed a man possessed. Images replayed in his mind, dreamlike and intense, that feel of cold steel on the neck, the meaty hand of Slate clamped around the throat. The idea of Melindre lying lifeless in the woods haunted him. It brought bile into the back of his throat. He knew he should've stayed with her. It was his job to protect her. If something were to happen to her… he couldn't live with it. He couldn't live with himself.

The scent of a campfire filled the air, only slightly masking the coppery smell of blood spilled. Two bodies lay a short distance from the space where earlier that morning he had sat and talked to Melindre over breakfast cooking. The glint of their armor was enough to distinguish them from the oracle at a glance, and this might have been a comfort, were it not for the reminder of the visions he'd been given.

As he continued to move through the camp, barely a sound beneath his feet, there was a low thrumming noise near the fire, the soft inhalation of massive lungs, followed by the much quieter, slightly muffled sound of sniffling. There, seated on a log, the ragged Amalfi sat hunched into himself, grey dragon curled behind him, sleeping and just a little ways from the pair, laid out on a mat of grass and twigs, misty eyes hidden behind closed lids, Melindre.

"Melindre!" Leander's voice boomed through the forest in desperation as he ran toward her and Milo. He ignored the Amalfi, moving past him and fell to his knees at the Oracle's side. He reached for her instinctively only to stop, allowing his hands to hover above her cloaked figure. Leander watched the rise and fall of her chest and breathed a sigh of relief. His gaze turned toward the Amalfi, who now looked bewildered that Leander had appeared. Pulling himself to his feet, he approached the young boy.

"What happened here…?"

"S-shh!" Sitting upright swiftly, Milo's paw raised to his mouth and he shook his head, "'Spent nearly all d-day getting her t-to agree to sleep. W-we got am-mbushed… M-miss Melindre, she fought mm-most of them off, but there w-was this big guy." Tugging on an ear, Milo made a face, "Th-threw m-my knife at him, and g-got him to chase us. He… he went over the cliff."

His eyes lowering, Milo's expression shifted, gloom overwhelming the Amalfi for a moment, "...W-well, s-sort of. I… I t-told Mm-misty to knock him off. Think I… think he's d-dead."

"Did you check?" Leander asked abruptly. His concern was for Melindre's safety and whoever Slate was had the balls to attack them, which meant he would do it again if he was alive. "Show me where he went over."

"It… it w-was pretty f-far from here. I w-wanted to check, but M..Miss Melindre was b-banged up, and needed r-rest. We r-ran through the woods. C-could p-probably track it, w-when it's lighter." Straightening slightly, Milo's ears quirked up, "...H-hang on. How d-did you… H-how come you c-came back alone?"

Leander let another sigh slip through his lips. A heavy hand came down on Milo's shoulder and squeezed it firmly. "Thank you, for keeping her safe. We will have to check for the one over the cliff when the others get here."

He retracted his hand and looked over his shoulder at the sleeping Oracle. Why did he leave? The concern for her was clear on his face and in the tone of his voice. "I had to get here… I just knew something was wrong…" Snapping out of it, he gave his attention back to Milo. "The others are making their way back. We also ran into trouble in Atheno."

Still reeling from the brief praise, Milo's eyes widened slightly as Leander continue, "T-trouble? D-doesn't sound good. S-strange they left us alone till… till we split up." Rubbing his paws together, he shifted uncomfortably, "I th-thought we should m-move camp, but Melindre w-wanted to stay till the other g-got back. S-scared we'd g-get separated with the dragons. D-dunno h-how long the Mm-maglin group will be, but w-we'll be safer with you lot b-back."

Leander's eyes widened, face paled as the words fell from the Amalfi's mouth. The group who had attacked Melindre and Milo knew they were alone. They had been watching them… but for how long? And then the Bloodmarked attacked him and their group in Atheno when they were split up. Almost entirely at the same time. It couldn't be a coincidence, could it?

With a sudden, sharp inhalation that drove a small yelp from Milo, Melindre bolted upright, hand cupped over her chest as eyes, wide with fear, looked helplessly around, sightless.

"It's alright, M-miss Mel…" Milo recovered, reaching out a paw to gingerly grasp her shoulder, "Y-you're alright. L-look who's b-back."

"Melindre…" Leander stepped toward her at a snails pace and knelt at her side. His hand reached out to her again, this time for her to find him and realize she was safe. "I'm here. I'm back. You're safe."

Shuddering, Melindre's hand sought his arm, voice breathless, in disbelief, "L-leander? You came?"

Gently clearing his throat, Milo rose and the dragon behind him stirred as the Amalfi gave Mist Catcher a gentle nudge, "C'mon… Let's go check the others." There was a soft sound of the pair trudging off towards the cave, Milo looking back only briefly to shake his head, tooth poking out with a small smile.

"You're doing very w-well with him, I'll have you know. His training." Her other hand came to meet the first, slightly shaky, still, "He saved my life."

"Of course I came. You were in danger…" His voice was pained and scared. The images of Melindre suffering, on the edge of death, still raced through his head. That feeling of Slate's hand around his neck, her neck, had burnt into his memory.

"Should I tell you I told you so now, or later? Because he wouldn't have had to save your life if I wasn't on that ridiculous mission in Atheno." His response came sharp and curt. "Have you forgotten that you're my responsibility, Melindre? I'm supposed to protect you. And I can't do that if I'm not with you." Leander sighed, his head hung and he stared at the dirt beneath him. "... what if…" His hand came overtop of her delicate one hanging on to his arm. "... what if something had happened to you.."'

"...I'm sorry. I… I didn't want to be a burden, Leander. You…" Jaw quivering slightly, her gaze lowered, "...You have so much to bring to this mission. So much more than watching over me. I… I thought if… It doesn't matter. Just some cuts and bruises. Nothing that won't heal." Looking up again, a brow rose slightly, "Hang on… How did you know I was in danger?"

"... I.. saw it." It was more of a question than an answer. "...or.. I felt it?" Leander let go of the Oracle's hand and examined his open palms. "I don't know how to explain it. It was like… I was you. Or I was seeing through you. But I saw it, Melindre. I felt it. Slate… his hand." Leander stopped. He couldn't recite it.

Hand reaching up to touch her neck, the dappled bruises already mottled black and purple, Melindre's eyes widened slightly, "...Oh, Leander. I'm so sorry." Shaking her head, that same hand lowered to reach for his, "W-when it was happening, I… I must have… I didn't mean to, but I must have… There's an old magic, Yaris taught us of it once. Something called a Mind Link. Oracles used to use it to communicate. Not… words, per say, but… thoughts or intent. When I thought of you, in that moment, I must have created one. What that must have been like… I'm sorry."

"It sucked, Melindre. I thought you were dead." There was a pause as he watched her for a moment. "I have to protect you, so we won't be splitting up again."

"But… I have to ask you something. Did you recognize the man who attacked you? Do you know who Slate is?"

"You'll get no argument from me on not splitting up… but no, I didn't recognize him. Not that I'm the best one to ask. His voice wasn't familiar. He was… from what I could tell… massive. Strong. I hit him with my blade and it felt like hitting stone. I didn't want to worry Milo, but I'd doubt very much that a tumble down that cliffside would be enough to end him." Absently, her fingertips glanced across her neck again, "He scared me."

It was almost as though Leander had forgotten she was blind when he asked the question. All he was concerned about was enacting revenge on whoever did this to her. But it would seem that the answer wasn't that easy. And to boot, his fear was almost certainly confirmed when Melindre thought that the man might not be dead after taking his tumble. The brat should have looked… but then again, if he had, what could have he done? Leander sighed. "We'll check when the others get back. You should probably rest. I can barely help you when you're just blind. Injured too, that would be a challenge."

"You know…" Melindre started, her tone something slightly more akin to its usual quality, as she gestured vaguely off in the distance, "I did take of two of them, before Slate showed up. I'm not completely useless." Expression softening, however, she gave a small nod, "I'll rest… but before I do, how did it go… in Atheno? Any luck?"

"I didn't want to tell you until you were better but… I guess its no use waiting. We found the merchant… turns out she's Tiriok's sister. That was a twist. But she also told us that someone else was looking for the Book of Calling.." A rage returned to Leander's eyes and he clenched his fist. "..it was that jerk off that attacked you, Slate. That's why I was curious if you knew him."'

"...Slate was looking for the book…" Frowning, Melindre folded her knuckles into her temples, "These connections… It's what I expected. But the more lines that are drawn together, the more confusing it all gets. Why wait until everyone was separated? And if they're after the Riders… the dragons… why come after me? Unless there's something… something I've missed. Something I need to see. I… I haven't been getting any visions. Not since I named them. Small flashes here and there, and dreams. But nothing concrete. Nothing helpful."

With a sigh of frustration, her hand fell to her side, "...His sister, hm? That explains why he was so reluctant to go find her. I suspect he'll explain himself in due time. Tiriok doesn't seem the sort to keep secrets needlessly. At least we got some information out of the trip. Might be worth the risk, if it gets us a step closer to understanding just what we're up against."

"..there's more Melindre." Leander sighed, unsure how to tell her they were attacked in Atheno as well. "We were attacked as soon as we left the shop. The Bloodmarked. It was like he was waiting for us… but the attack on you and the attack on us. It was simultaneous. That can't be a coincidence."

"No… certainly doesn't sound like it. They can't have followed us all this time. But how would they know where to find us. Where we made camp. When we–" Trailing off, Melindre's color faded, a hand coming briefly to her mouth, "...Oh, I am… the biggest fool. Yaris. My… my former matron. They're using her… They have to be. She was there in the city during the ceremony. They didn't need to follow us. They can be steps ahead of us before we even know what our plans are."

"Our enemy has a working Oracle?" Leander asked sarcastically, "wouldn't that be nice…" his tone mocked her but there were almost hints of playfulness. "Is there anything we can do about that, or are we just ducks in the water?"

"Wards, possibly? They aren't spells I'm familiar with, but I'm sure they exist. I… I don't know. I've… I spent my whole life learning how to have visions, not hide from them." Rubbing her forehead, she gave a small, frustrated sigh, "The best I can do for now is try to clear my mind… to see something useful. Anything. Then at least we can't be caught off guard, again." Looking up, a brow quirked slightly, "You said it was the Bloodmarked who attacked you?"

"Maybe that damned Klerion knows how to use wards… whatever the hell they are." Leander proffered. "And yes, it was the Bloodmarked.. Augar. Maybe Slate is wrapped up with him somehow.. But the weird thing is when we fought, he was not trying.. Which makes sense if he was buying time for Slate to…" Leander stopped, realizing what he was about to say.

"It doesn't matter, Leander." Shaking her head, Melindre reached out, hand covering his, "He didn't. He won't. They failed. And next time, Orestra willing, we'll be a step ahead of them, for once."

"I hope so…" Leander pulled himself to his feet. "You should rest some more until the others get back. I'll relieve Milo."

"Thank you." She looked up with slight trepidation, idly cupping Orestra's eye with her palm, "You… you won't go anywhere? Don't let it get to your head, but… I'd sleep better knowing you're there. Watching over me, I mean..."

Leander looked over at her quizzically, even though she couldn't see him. He grinned. "Don't worry, Oracle, I won't go anywhere. Your safety is my responsibility, remember? Now get some sleep, you don't have long."

Leander left Melindre and returned to where Milo was, relieving him of his post so he could get some rest as well.

 

[ze_kraken]

NATALIA

​

The smells of battle reached Natalia's nostrils first. They came without warning, replacing the pleasant scents of damp soil and lush green trees with acrid black smoke and the metallic undertones of blood. She glanced over her shoulder back to Atheno to confirm she had not somehow been transported back to those ash-choked streets and dug her nails into her palms to calm herself. The sharp feedback of untrimmed nails leaving divots in her flesh kept her mind on her physical self as she followed behind Casimir and Tiriok into their camp.

Before her a lone campfire flickered in the dim haze of twilight, lending its orange glow to the yellow hue that seemed to saturate Natalia's surroundings. It might have been a pleasant sight, one that brought her back to summer nights spent camping in woods not too unlike these with her brother, if not for the two fresh corpses littering the ground.

Their armor caught the fire light and reflected it back, casting orange halos about their limp bodies. Weapons lay loose on the ground or else beneath hands without the strength left to hold them. Though Natalia could see no obvious wounds or trails of blood, she could smell them all the same - stronger than before, pungently blending with the smoke from the campfire. She felt the skin on her palms break beneath her nails, and forced herself to look away from the dead men as she offered a silent prayer to Orestra for keeping her nausea manageable.

Natalia walked past the corpses, nodding a greeting towards Leander who sat guard by the fire. A ways down the campsite she spotted Milo shuffling into his tent, and offered him her best attempt at a smile, donning her noblewoman's masque as she pulled her shoulders up from a slouch she had not known she had been maintaining. The masque lasted for the better part of twenty paces as she found her tent - little more than a lean-to propped up by a pair of sturdy branches - and vanished behind the folds of the cloth and furs.

Weariness and sorrow pierced her and she slumped to the ground, clutching her head in her hands. Her empty stomach groaned and the back of her throat burned. Without inertia to keep them going, the soreness dragged at her limbs. Ash and dirt clung to every inch of her, giving her the feeling of suffocating under layers of wool in the summer. It clumped her hair and plastered it to her skin under layers of dried sweat, worked its way beneath her fingernails, and stained her dress now more gray and brown than green.

How cruel, she thought. How cruel to come so close to home, and yet be denied it so.

Only, she knew not if her home still stood. Or if her family had survived. Or even if she would live to see the dawn. She glanced outside her tent towards the fire, taking solace in the memories of summer for the briefest instant, allowing herself to be lost to time as a little girl once again. She inhaled deeply and exhaled through her nostrils, coughing as the same unpleasant smells wafted through to her tent.

A pink mass shifted past the entrance flap to her tent, and Natalia almost called for Leander only to stop mid-syllable as a triangular-shaped head supported along a slender neck poked through the tent's entrance, fixating teal eyes on her. The dragon's jaw was set with a touch of an overbite, wider at its top than at its bottom and horns that had been barely the size of Natalia's thumb just a week ago were now growing to be as long as her forearm. Her scales did not shine and glitter like Natalia had always heard in the stories, but had their own splendor and shimmer to them all the same.

"Arryndyr," Natalia said, reaching out with one hand to scratch at the dragon's chin.

Static coursed through her finger tips at the touch, sending the pale blonde hairs along her arms shooting up. Arryndyr hummed in satisfaction and shuffled forward to lay her head across Natalia's lap, sending the same jolt down her spine that faded into a dim sensation of tingling electricity. Natalia laid a gentle hand atop the dragon's crest, finding comfort in the sturdiness the hard scales provided underneath her fingers.

"I don't even know if you understand me. The stories say you do - but, truth be told, I just can't believe that fate has made a Rider out of me."

Arryndyr huffed softly, flaring cloud-like steam from her nostrils, which Natalia took for assent to continue speaking.

"I can barely hold a sword. I hardly hold my own riding a horse, so I cannot imagine I would fare better on a creature that flies."

Natalia laughed, recalling her riding lessons as a girl and how her mother had scolded her each time she ruined a riding skirt falling into the mud of the practice grounds. Arryndyr raised a curious eye to glance up at her, quickly losing interest and shutting it as her breath mellowed into a restful state. Natalia grew somber, joy fading as she glanced down to see the dragon beginning to nap.

"It's odd. Even just a month ago, I would have loved the chance to cut loose my expectations and chart my own path. Fate has a cruel sense of humor. I never imagined that in getting that freedom I'd lose everything I knew. I'd never even considered it a possibility."

Natalia sighed.

"And here I am confessing to a creature I don't even know will understand me. I don't have anyone else, I suppose. Tiriok would lend an unsympathetic ear, too formal and dutiful to be sincere. Casimir would mock me, as if he is not as terrified as I am. Melindre would lecture me about my destiny. Leander…" Her lips turned up in a smile. "Well, Leander knows me better than the rest, but I dare not burden him with that understanding. And I don't trust the equestrian."

Arryndyr had fallen asleep, and so Natalia let her next sentence drift off into nothingness. The steady rise and fall of the dragon's chest calmed her, the heat from her body better than any blanket she might have curled into.

I will not waste this chance fate has given me, Natalia thought as her own eyelids began to drift closed. My path is my own.

 

[Elle Joyner]

THEME

Marcellus;Quicksand;LB;

THE
RIDERS
of VERLENDIA

COMPLEXITIES AND COMPLICATIONS

Morning dawned across the horizon in pale pinks, drowned out like blood in water through hazy clouds that swallowed the peaks of the mountains. When the remaining team from Atheno had arrived in the night, a small scouting party of Milo, Tiriok and Leander (along with Melindre, who the former refused to let out of his sight) wandered down to the edge of the ravine to hunt for signs of Slate's broken form, only to be both marginally disappointed and somehow less than surprised to find only tracks, leading off into the woods. With the break of day, and no sign of the hulking figure, it was decided he was unlikely to return. The Maglin team had not yet returned, and over a quiet breakfast, the tension of the previous day's events mingled with concern for their missing comrades.

It was Tiriok who finally broke the silence, his fingers unwinding from where they had buried into Storm Strider's rough, folding instead into his lap, "Well… we're just gonna sit here waiting. Don't suppose there's much point beating around it. I owe you all an explanation. I assume you two were, at least to some degree, keyed into the exchange with Kam'brisa yesterday. And I expect you know of the… revelations that cropped up from that conversation." His eyes shifted from Melindre and Milo, to the other three, "First things first, I'd like to apologize if my… evasion of my past struck you as at all deceitful. It was never my intention to lie, not to any of you. Simple fact of the matter is, I'm not the person that I was when I left Maglin. I never intended to be again. But our pasts can be the ghosts we suffer with, and sometimes, they make rather untidy appearances. I'll spare you the length of the story, if I can… Yes. I am a prince. Or, I was, before I abandoned that life. Adopted heir apparent to a powerful family in the Shalmarin region. Much like our professed King of the High Tower, my family's power came of its own accord, but we are recognized as nobility in much the same way as the likes of Lord Direstrine, or the noble families in Atheno. When I was a child, I was oblivious to just what this entailed, but as I grew older, I, too, grew to understand the nature of my… father's political ambitions. The Cindali family rules with a hard, savage hand, and has for centuries, and my father is no different.

"They had no sons, my mother and father. Only daughters. Kam'brisa is one, and there are nine others. My adoption was as much for their benefit as my own, though I expect a little more the former than latter. Don't get me wrong… I enjoyed my life for a time. The luxuries were, to a child found wandering the desert, half starved and dying of thirst, unparalleled. But over time, as these things tend to do, the comforts, the opulence grew shallow, and could not fully mask the depravity. When I was not but twelve years old, I was forced to watch my father's guards behead a man for looking him in the eye. He saw it as a challenge, and he wanted me to understand how best to deal with such a threat. For the next three years, I spent every evening I could manage to sneak away, bringing bread and goat's milk to the man's widow and her two children. But it did not appease my guilt. Nothing did.

"When I was old enough, I asked my father if I could enlist in the city guard. I thought if I could become a soldier, I might make some good of myself. I might make right some of the wrongs. I could not imagine a life where I watched others safeguard my people, while I stood by and watched from the sanctity of a gilded tower with a man who would sooner kill them all than lose his seat of power. But it was not to be. Instead, my father had me assigned as captain of the Royal Helm… a… ornamental branch. Ceremonial. I rode through the streets, dressed in the finest linens and golden armor. While men fought and bled and died for Maglin… for Shalmarin, I was paraded about the city like a performer. For nearly a year, and far too long, I endured, with the hope that my father would relent and finally, in time, let me fight. When it became clear he would not, I did the only thing I could think to do… I left. In the middle of the night, I sneaked out and I made for the coast. In a few weeks time, I'd made my way to Verlendia, and there, I sought out Stavinburg. It took some convincing, and a great many years as a squire, but in time, I worked my way up the ranks of the city guard, and eventually, into the Knights of the Phoenix Ash. And like the creature for which that title is so named, I burned away all the life I'd left behind, and I became something new. Until yesterday, I was almost certain I would never have to unbury it… I was sure I would never have a need to return." Rubbing his hands together, Tiriok looked up from the fire, briefly meeting the eyes of those around the ring.

"But it has become abundantly clear through our meeting with Kam'brisa, and through our run in with Slate and earlier with Omesh Kar in the Iron City, It's within our interests to make for Maglin as soon as we can, to put a stop to the threat before it grows beyond even the Rider's reach. That said, I'll need to enchant another quill… and I expect the dragons have a bit more growing to do before they're fully sky worthy, but we shouldn't linger long."

"On that note…" Melindre spoke up, uncurling her fingers from where they were latched around the Orestra eye about her bruised neck, "I spoke with Leander last night, and I have some concerns that our steps are not so carefully disguised as we might have hoped. I have reason to believe Kar is using the visions of my former mentor, Yaris Thalin, to stay ahead of us. In essence, they know our plans even before we've made them. It would be the wisest course of action to find a ward against her precognition, but such a task is no simple matter. Warding against visions can be… complicated. And Yaris is one of the most powerful Oracles I have ever encountered. I will not lie, we are up against… incredible forces. I have hope that we will prevail, but we are going to need–."

The ringing of steel brought Melindre's words to a pause as Tiriok rose suddenly, blade freed before his legs had fully straightened. The sound of footfall through the undergrowth signaled the intruder, before the figure appeared through the tree line. He was tall, and built for the blade, clad in leathers and shining iron, the colors of which were reminiscent of those worn only by Atheno's Pale Guard. A neatly trimmed beard was the only hair upon his head, dark eyes beneath knit brows giving presence of a scowl, even at rest. In his hand, he held a simple axe, finely sharpened, but it remained at his side, his free hand raised in humble greeting.

"Thank the gods, I've found you… Lady Natalia. Word came to me that you and Lord Kilnwood were seen in Atheno, but by the time I'd discovered your location, you were already fleeing the city. I managed to follow your tracks, though not easily. You did quite well disguising them. Please, my apologies." Bowing deeply, he slipped the axe into a sheath at his back, "I am Joshea Docecil, former General of the… disgraced Pale Guard. And her Ladyship's betrothed."

Sweeping upright, his gaze moved to Natalia, fist coming to rest on the breast plate of his armor, "When I lost sight of you in Cobrol, I thought the worst, but then I heard rumor of your traveling with… with the Riders? My Lady, I've come to lend aid. That is, if it is welcome?"

~~<>~~​

At the interruption of the Esqurian and Amalfi, Hexar's attention shifted between the two. There was a moment where the Klerion looked genuinely confounded by their interjections, before their words registered, or Roshan's did, at least (Oleander's being the usual complicated spurts of gibberish he'd grown accustomed to blocking out). The look of bewilderment turned troubled. Shaking it off, finger and thumb pinching the bridge of his nose, he gestured to a building looming before them with a manner of one quite keen to change the subject.

The massive keep rose up among the smaller stone structures that surrounded it, nearly as tall as the massive buttes that jutted from the desert floor. Tall towers stood up in rows along a sandstone wall, the ramparts and battlements glittering in the sun overhead with what appeared to be sharp, jagged cuts of shimmering glass and stone. Along the wall walk, no less than four guards could be seen, arrayed in uniforms of pristine white, embellished with bright crimson and gold. Metal helms donned their crowns, coming to a sharp point at their apex. In hand, each guard held a long, sharply curved spear, as deadly as it was ornamental, and at their belts, slender scimitars glinted fiercely. A studded iron gate met at the tower center, a sweeping arch that ran in both horizontal and vertical beams, ending in barbed partisans. On either side of the gate, guards stood as well, watchful eyes darting amongst the city as her population wandered about.

When everyone had caught up, Hexar looked to the group with a sincere gaze, "We'll need to exercise caution. Even my authority here is… limited, shall we say. This Keep holds prisoners throughout Maglin - some with quite the volatile history and it's not common that they allow anyone to waltz in unhindered. Breaking in is… not recommended." He added, with an edge of expectation, "Our best bet is to approach with an air of honesty. We are here to see some of the prisoners… Visitors are permitted for most, though with these circumstances, I can't promise anything. Your villagers were brought here under false pretense, no doubt, and whoever is responsible would more than likely have set some precautions. Still, I've some pull. Getting everyone out is where things get tricky. I'm open to–What??"

The sun's brightness waned with such suddenness, that trailing off, Hexar's gaze moved immediately skyward. Overhead, thick, dark clouds rolled and roiled like stampeding beasts, racing towards the city proper with such unnatural ferocity there was no questioning the nefarious nature. As his hands curved around the handles of the duel khopesh blades at his sides, he swore under his breath, before calling out to the crowd, "Get to cover!"

Almost as soon as the words left his mouth, a deafening shriek pealed from the darkness, and screams erupted from around them as a terrifying creature emerged through the blackened cloud cover. The ink-colored body, dripping tendrils of tar-like flesh, spanned nearly the entire length of the Keep wall, spines lining from head to toe in barbed rows like thorns. Leathery wings swept upwards, membrane mottled with holes through which an eerie heliotrope glow bloomed. That same burning light ran the length of the throat, between the sharp lines of rib striations, and plumed from its eyes and between the spiny teeth in its massive skull. Stopping mid-motion, with a whip of its tail, it hovered over the square, before opening its mouth in a fury, a great spray of violet sludge expelled into the streets below. Where it hit the ground, the ooze hissed, curling and coiling, like a living thing, clawing out blindly for anything in its path.

"FRAMEWORK!" A voice called from the wall, and from somewhere else in the city, the clanging of a bell rose above panicked cries and frantic shouts.

~~<>~~​

GM NOTES

TAGS || @KatSea, @Owl, @Verran, @ze_kraken, @Pupperr, @Custodiet Teh, @SilverPaw

Interactive Elements |

CAMP CREW – After sharing his history, Tiriok proposes the best course of action is to make for Maglin, to sus out the threat that is Omesh Kar and his companions. Here, Melindre interjects that Yaris Thalin is most likely being utilized to spy on the team, and recommends finding someone capable of Warding magic – As she's speaking, the camp is infiltrated by a stranger, who reveals himself to be Natalia's betrothed, claiming to have defected from the Pale Guard.

MAGLIN CREW – Upon reaching the city keep and learning that it is largely an impenetrable fortress, Shalmarin is suddenly set up by a beast known only as a Framework Dragon… an undead creature of unspoken horror. Don't die!

 

[Custodiet Teh]

Oleander Dapplegrey

Shoot first, then ask questions…


Cover and the idea of getting to it were both concepts somewhat lost on Oleander, especially amongst the buildings and alleys of a city. There were no boughs to dash behind, no ravine to vault over, just tight roads and narrow alleys.

Oleander had been caught off guard and in the midst of a deep breath as she had been preparing a torrent of words to be had with the two legged beastie. Her words had been teasing in nature, not propositional. The cheeky man had only managed to arouse her ire. Even if she was the sort to consider, it would take a fair bit more than a fuzzy pelt and a sonorous voice to turn her head. Maybe a twa shank king or that kind of sort, but she wasn't by any means impressed by that bravado, not one bit.

Affronted, her deep breath ended in a gulp as the shrieking interrupted her. The gale from the wings overhead sent her tricorn flying down the street. Perhaps she wouldn't have gotten caught so easily in the open had her expectations that there likely wouldn't have been flying monster sneaking up on the city so easy. Turning to chase after her hat, she froze as the creature landed and proceeded to spew bile down the avenue.

The hat was engulfed and that was just about it for her. Bringing her musket up, she shouldered the marvel of the modern age, brought the sight down on the pale skull, exhaled and squeezed the trigger.

Without waiting to see the results, she turned, pellmell in the opposite direction the purplish fluid, putting a hand out to scoop anyone that would take it. Her neatly braided hair bouncing free against the stubs of her antlers, her eyes wild, like an animal caught in a trap.

"Twa shanks! Git clair o' th strait! Et be upoon us!!"

She wasn't sure which way she was galloping, she just new she needed to put distance between her and the thing. If just for a chance to reload for a second shot to make it remember to stay dead this time.

 

[Verran]

Memory Mirage​

As a natural speaker of Olee's speech, who couldn't fail to grasp it, Kyen'delsia prepared to banter back and casually ride over Roshan's fumblings. But Hexar's words on the fortress snapped her attention back to the present reality. Immediately, the rage flowed back in. The aesthetic and might of the keep, the splendor of the guards, and every detail of beauty failed to reach her eyes and ears. All she cared about, for that singular moment, was the fact that the keep stood in her way. In the way of much of what was held dear. It would not be tolerated. Still, the rage did not master Kyen'delsia as it had at the start of their little journey in the country. Nor did it dull the other senses that were not already blind. However, if Maglin were a reasonable country, as Hexar and Roshan claimed, wouldn't the matter be most simply and expediently resolved if they merely petitioned for her people's release. After all, it would take quite the elaborate deception to make her village anything more than it was. A group of simple people. Who had led simple, happy lives within the mountains. Undoubtedly, it would be a direct matter of cutting through whatever flimsy charade had doubtlessly been concocted to fool the good people of the land. And she started to say as much before the dragon descended.

Amidst the shriek and screams and pounding feet, Kyen'delsia smiled.

Her head turned towards the beast. Its pounding wingbeats and splatter of bile gave the Klerion dancer more than enough knowledge to seemingly pinpoint its roughly perfect location. Fear tingled at her spine, but not for herself. This was not, if memory served as true as her family hinted, the first dragon she had stared down. Nor, if the glorious sun, manifested draconically as mighty Lioris himself, pleased it would it be the last. Really though, she mused, while it was good for my apprentices to come and guide me but it is time for them to leave now.

Therein lay her fear. Two students. Delightful twins. That could easily be caught up in the crossfire. She would not have it. Not while she was Mistress. With ease, the dancer slipped from the loop of arm that sought to guide, escort, and even restrain her. Good Andro'van. Stalwartly protective. "This spot is perfect, my dears, now it is time to take your leave."

"But Mistress…" Andro'va, his sister, began. Sweet as a summer blossom. Cunning as a wyrm.

"I said, take your leave."

"Mistress, surely…" Andro'van's brand of logic, so often wisdom, was not welcome today.

"Leave!" the dancer barked in perfect time to the report of a small explosion. They did, reluctantly, as clattering hooves went flying by. It almost troubled her. But then again, why should it? This was her stage. One that she had walked time and time again. Did she not know every bump and dip of this fair city? Of course so. Who else could? No one. The smile broadened as the beast wingbeats continued to pound in the background. Plan in place, the audience could hardly be grander, and nothing to impede her charm work, she began to dance.

Pop! Off the mark she jumped. A springing bound for the first move. Landing in a low spin, she twirled across the course sand. Somehow building momentum and calling out to the spirits of air and wind. Flighty spirits each and easy for anyone to call to aid. The simpler the request, the better. And this was a request to dance and play. Suddenly, she whipped up and the wind whipped with her. Joyously throwing sand up into the air. The dancer had already closed her eyes. Building around her a storm of dust and tiny spirits, all adopting her gleeful demeanor. Shimmying herself along with the beat only she could hear, the dancer sashayed forward in two sets of three steps before suddenly whirling and repeating the movement. Already, a vortex of joyfully moving air, and sand, was forming. Bewildering eyes and even spiritual senses as all the spirits of the air flocked around. Gleefully joining this sudden impromptu display.

Whirling into the next set, moving her arms as she drew back from her strutting steps, the dancer felt secure in being hidden from the fell dragon's sight. Perhaps it too has been coated by the storm! she preened, now to …

Suddenly, she stumbled, falling down to her hands and knees. A single foot had tripped over a small hole of the road that had been there time out of mind. Yet, Kyen'delsia's first, alien thought was, that's not supposed to be there.

The storm blew on, carried by the raw power that Kyen'delsia had imparted from her dance. Enveloping more and more of the block. Swirling around her and she knew not who else. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered. Because Kyen'delsia couldn't comprehend why on earth she stumbled over a pothole in a city she had never been in before on a continent her feet had never touched. Surrounded by people she did not know that filled a realm that her only news of it were the stories told to her by her Sister. All this stood against the absolute assurance that her mind knew this by absolute heart. That this thing that she had tripped over should not, could not possibly exist. Kyen'delsia's last bewildered thought was a single word. How?

As if that were a signal, it seemed that a crack in her mind where water leaked burst asunder. Cascading images of long years of void that were filled with sounds, smells, touches, pains, joys, and all that made up life poured into her. All at once. For a few moments, Kyen'delsia struggled, if it could be called that, to maintain the remnants of her form. Of herself. But, it was all, simply, too much. Snapping as easily as a twig, Kyen'delsia grabbed her head. As if pressing down upon her skull would be enough to cease the tormental torrent. Screams rent out. Drowned much by the wind. Pain sent her writhing upon the sandy ground. Hidden by a gale of memory's design. The wind blew on. The localized sandstorm seemed to care not that its caster was no longer feeding it. Air, fickle as ever, was lost in its own revelry.

 

[ze_kraken]

FAMILIAR FACES

​

The scrape of steel on leather sent shivers down Natalia's spine as Tiriok stood with blade readied. She curled her hands into fists in her laps and stiffened, flinching as the sounds of trodding steel boots came closer and the rustling of the undergrowth loudened. The silence that followed after the stranger's footfalls ceased exploded into a vast emptiness that seemed to stretch indefinitely and yet was over as soon as it had begun.

"...Lady Natalia…"

That voice. It echoed with a familiarity that was neither nostalgic nor warm, but was still enough to bring tears to the corners of Natalia's eyes. Thankful for the hood of her gray woolen cloak to mask her from the embarrassment, Natalia lifted her head and concealed wiping at the corners of her eyes behind motioning to pull down her hood.

"...My lady, I've come to lend my aid. That is, if it is welcome?"

Natalia had not realized she had even stood to consider the newcomer, and for a beat she stood flabbergasted as her mind lagged behind the understanding her ears had already reached. There was no mistaking the man as Joshea, and a grin tugged at Natalia's lips as she considered how different she must have looked in muddy frayed clothes contrasted against the implacable similarity of Joshea's appearance.

He might have been called dashing once, and by all accounts from those Natalia had spoken to he had been the dazzling image of a warrior prince in his younger days. The battlefield had robbed Joshea of much of his youthful vigor by the time he had been betrothed to her, leaving him bald and with some salt in the brown of his beard. Still, he carried himself with pride and walked with a confident assuredness that spoke of danger. It was the same walk which Tiriok and Leander seemed to have perfected, giving the illusion they were as dangerous with their fists as some men were with bare steel. The impression of danger was strengthened by the shining steel he wore, a brilliant contrast to the travel-weary band gathered about the smoldering campfire.

"Joshea - Ah, Sir Docecil," Natalia said, flashing him a swift courtesy. "Your appearance is both unexpected and fortuitous. You must forgive me - had I known you had not turned cloak like many of your brothers at arms, I would have sought out your aid at once."

"Despicable cowards, the lot of them…" Joshea spat, shaking his head in disgust, "When I discovered their betrayal, all I could think was how grateful I was that I accompanied you to Cobrol. To think I might be among their treacherous numbers…"

"All things considered…" Tiriok started, his tone calm, but his eyes still wary, hand still clenched around his blade, "Gonna need more than your word on that. If it's well and good, I'd like the Oracle to read you… ensure you're telling the truth. If that's alright with you, Natalia?"

"I understand the need to be cautious, Captain Vicaris, but if Sir Docecil had wished harm upon me, or indeed any of us, I doubt we would be standing here now. We would have wound up dead in Atheno, or perhaps even Cobrol. But if it shall put your minds at ease, so be it - though I must say, it is not my place to speak to the mind of another. Do these terms sound agreeable to you, Sir Docecil?"

"Whatever is needed to assure you all, certainly." With a bow of his head, Joshea turned to Tiriok, "By all means, Captain."

"Indeed… Melindre? Would you?"

The Oracle had already risen, and with Tiriok's lead, approached the Pale Guard, extending a hand to him with a measure of uneasiness, "Your hand please."

The exchange was brief and silent, Melindre's misty eyes closing as she placed her palm over Joshea's. In but a minute or two, she pulled free and opened her eyes once more, giving a small nod, "His story rings true. He bears no memories of being enchanted by the Book."

"The Book?" Natalia asked, fascination overtaking relief as she turned to face the Oracle.

"The Book of Calling…" Tiriok answered, looking over to her, "The same one we went to ask about. It's what was responsible for the Phoenix Knights turning, as well. Direstrine tried getting his hands on it, so when the Riders were called, he could make them… compliant to his will. Didn't turn out so well for him… or anyone, for that matter."

"Certainly not the people of Atheno…" Joshea added, darkly, "The city will be lucky to recover, if that's even the intention of the Guard."

"If it is so powerful, then why are we here to begin with, free of will and mind? Forgive me, but there are forces at play I did not fully understand until so real a consequence as my betrothed perhaps wishing to bury a knife in my ribs came to the foreground."

"I can only guess. Whoever Slate is working for, be it Omesh Kar or someone else, it seems fairly clear their intentions are to disable Verlendia's military forces, first. Controlling the armies of two major cities, it's certainly a tactical advantage. I expect they were at the ceremony in hopes that they could destroy the eggs, or steal them… Melindre threw off their plans, more than a little, I imagine. With no Oracles left alive, there would have been no one to name the Riders. Lucky for us, that wasn't the case."

"I see," Natalia said, face impassive beneath her noble's masque. "Then it is all the more fortunate you came to survive and remain untwisted by those magics, Sir Docecil."

"Lucky, indeed. But… Forgive me, my Lady… How is it you've gotten yourself mixed up in all this intrigue and danger?"

As if on cue, Arryndyr ventured out from Natalia's tent and stood beside her rider. She fixed her eyes on Joshea and prodded Natalia with her snout, huffing cool vapor from her nostrils. Natalia drew up her shoulders, letting her cloak frame her slender build in an air of strength and importance as it billowed about her and lended her the illusion of volume.

"The Lady Melindre named me a Rider."

Natalia draped a hand over the dragon's crest, and for a moment she felt regal and powerful. It was a fleeting sensation that faded as soon as reality crashed back down on her - she was still a sickly girl in the company of strangers with a dragon not quite larger than a pony. Hardly the thing of legends, she thought. Much less someone to consider dangerous or heroic. She felt flush burn her cheeks at how silly the whole thing must have looked, and felt her shoulders slumping.

As Arryndyr appeared, Joshea's hand reached for the axe at his back, but only hovered there, shock waging war with the sudden burst of alarm, at her words, "Y-you were… what? By the gods. Lady Natalia, you cannot think this a wise course of action. What if you were hurt, or worse?"

Arryndyr nudged Natalia with her snout like a dog might, and the noblewoman straightened her back. She felt the static course through her hand where the dragon had touched her and felt a shiver run down her spine. In the span of a second the grief of her life lost mingled with the same hope and determination she had felt the night before. Her temper flared, nostrils huffing softly before she managed to reign in the slip of the masque. If that small tell had given her true feelings away, Joshea gave no signs that it had.

"I am thankful for your concern and your willingness to lend your aid, but I do not see that I had a choice in the matter any more than I did about much of anything in Atheno. I was separated from my family with a riot unfolding, and you were nowhere to be seen. I did not give this decision any thought, because there was but one answer. I might have been killed at Cobrol if not for the Lady Melindre and Captain Vicaris and the others, just as I may have been killed at any point in the weeks since, dragon or no."

Arryndyr hummed as if in approval, and Natalia continued.

"Orestra be kind, I do not truly know if I wish to walk this path, but it seems fate has made its decision. I do not believe your concern matters much to the eyes of the forces at play here, sir."

"My concerns are those of your future husband, Natalia. It's hardly a beneficial arrangement if you go off and get yourself killed chasing ideals of glory."

"Nothing like what a soldier or a knight does…" Tiriok's words came with a bite, eyes narrowed slightly.

"I think…" Melindre's gentle voice interrupted, though her gaze held steel that reflected Tiriok's tone, "What Natalia is trying to say is.. you cannot stop destiny. What's meant to be will be. Even if we don't understand it, or desire it."

"As they say, you cannot put spilled wine back in the glass - Arryndyr and I are tied at the ankle, it would seem. If your offer of aid was genuine, and not a veiled way of saying I should come home with you, then you are welcome to stay. But I fear, for the foreseeable future, this is my lot in life, and you must come to accept it as much as I must if your feelings for me are as deep as you claim them to be."

"For the foreseeable future…" Joshea nodded, though his expression seemed hardly as enthusiastic as those words might have suggested, "But if you do not intend to return home, why go to Atheno at all? I had thought for sure you were there to see about your family?"

The question opened wounds Natalia had thought had scabbed over or else been consigned to linger unquestioned in the back of her mind, and she took a moment to stem back tears and keep up her masque.

"Whether my family still lives or not, I am only a danger to them now. I know that. Should news reach the wrong ears in Atheno that I, a fugitive Rider-to-be, were in the city, I could expect my family to be butchered by the Pale Guard and for me to be taken prisoner. As for my being here, I do not know if I am at liberty to say. Powers stronger than you or I watch us even now, I'm sure of it."

"My Lady, I am sorry. I thought you knew, or I would have informed you sooner. Your family lives, or, they did when last I saw them. I cannot speak to their circumstances beyond what I knew days ago, but while matters were less than ideal, they were not among those of the nobility cut down in the overthrow."

"I see."

For a moment the masque broke, and Natalia moved to wipe tears from the corners of her eyes. Arryndyr pressed her head against Natalia's side and shifted her weight in support, giving Natalia something to lean against. Relief and guilt wound through her in equal measure as she considered the revelation.

"Words fall short of describing my joy," Natalia said, taking pride in the steadiness of her voice even as tears spilled down her cheeks. "Are they back, in the city? In the Aegremont?"

"Only those who have… sworn fealty to the Pale Guard remain in their positions of power, Lady Natalia. Your parents, they don't appear to have given in to that, but they also don't seem to be making great strides towards rebellion - I imagine for their own safety. When I saw them, they were being held in the city square, near the Grand Keep, where the other surviving families… those who remain loyal to Atheno's nobility… are all kept. Some, those more vocal, were imprisoned in the Stonehold. I expect it won't be long before the others join them, however. The Guard won't allow insurrection for long."

"If they're being kept prisoner, then we have to rescue them!" Natalia said, looking to Melindre and Tiriok for approval.

Tiriok's expression was difficult to read, guarded, but sympathetic, as he rubbed his chin in thought, "If they're being kept prisoner, they'll be well watched. It won't be a simple matter of walking in and taking them out. And if you were caught…" With a sigh, he straightened, "It's a risk that we would need to weigh, as a group. But if you decide it's what you need to do, you won't go alone."

"I worry…" Melindre interjected, eyes gazing into the flames, giving the misty shade an oddly orange glint, "I worry that there are measures at play, to entice such an action. If I could have time, to speak to Orestra… To see if there's any visions to draw from, I might have more to go on."

Natalia bristled with frustration, and reflexively clutched the amulet about her neck. She hoped the Goddess would not take anger on her annoyance with one of Her servants, and hoped further still her tone was free of obvious agitation.

"How long will this consultation take?"

"...I don't know." Looking down, an oddly timid gesture for the Oracle, Melindre shook her head, "I… I've been having difficulty with my visions. But it has been a challenge, with so much traveling. It's possible I just need time to focus, is all."

"Time may very well be a luxury we do not have, Lady Melindre. I do not wish to exert undue influence over someone I owe so much, but if you doubt your abilities, then we must decide, visions or not."

Natalia did not know whether it was hope, excitement, or terror that flowed through her veins and sent her heart pumping. Could it be she could undo the guilt and remorse of family lost, and still pursue her life of freedom after all? Was it an obvious trap? Would she risk it all, only to have them fail? If they succeeded, would she be charted away back to a life she did not want? She looked to Joshea and then to Tiriok, hoping the masque hid her tumultuous blend of emotions.

"...We'll need to wait on the rest of our members, Natalia." Tiriok added, gently, "If what Sir Docecil says is still true, it's been sometime since they've been held. The matter is urgent, I agree, but a day or two… it shouldn't change much?"

Joshea shifted, nodding, "They aren't the sort to cause trouble, with intent. Your father may not bend his knee to the Pale Guard, but he won't put your family at risk."

"Wait a minute" Leander interjected as he stepped toward the group. "I couldn't help but eavesdrop, on account that I was just right over there." He pointed a few paces away, a gesture intended to mock the situation rather than be honest in thinking the group didn't realize where he was while conferring about their next move. "But that has to be the dumbest thing I have ever heard. We just got out of Atheno. And you want us to go back!?"

The sandy haired man shook his head back and forth as he shrugged in utter disbelief. "And all because this guy shows up out of the blue, coincidentally at the same time we get back, with news that Natalia's parents are being kept prisoner?" Leander's hands found his hips as though to steady him from falling over from the exaggerated sigh that left his body. He then looked over to Natalia nonchalantly, "I can't believe this old sweaty guy is your betrothed." Leander's green eyes peered back to Joshea, realizing he could hear everything Leander said, though he wasn't trying to hide it. "No offense."

"But in all seriousness, Natalia… I know Melindre did her voodoo magic on him and said it checks out, but it seems bizarre to me that he showed up when he did, with just the right information to lure us back to Atheno, a city now overrun. A city with people in power right now who do not care to overthrow nobles and those in a position of authority, like us. Like you. Our enemy also has an Oracle, too, with god know's what tricks up their sleeve. We can't be too careful now. I know you love your family and they mean a lot to you… but I just can't see how going back into Atheno would be the right move. Not right now at least…"

"I see you have thought this out very thoroughly, Lord Kilnwood," Natalia said, turning her chin up. "Very well. I think I shall retire to my tent - please let me know if our fellows should return."

"All the same, I'll see… if I can draw a vision of any kind." Melindre added, gently, "Perhaps something encouraging might come from it." Rising, the Oracle looked towards Leander, "I'll just be in my tent."

Eyes shifting from their narrow glare at the other Atheno native, Joshea's gaze turned to Natalia, "My lady, let me know if you change your mind. We can speak more in the morning."

"I expect you don't intend to return to Atheno, tonight?" Tiriok asked, and at Joshea's nod, he gestured beyond him, "You may take my tent, then. I will keep watch by the fire. Rest well, Natalia… Melindre."

 

[Pupperr]

Leander Kilnwood
Interaction / Collaboration with Natalia @ze_kraken ​

Morning came all too quickly for a man that didn't sleep a wink. Leander was too preoccupied with watching the movements, or lack thereof, of their guest; Joshea. A knight or something, but more importantly, Natalia's betrothed. It infuriated him that no one seemed bothered that he showed up at the most convenient of times with the most convenient of news. Was he traveling with a bunch of idiots? A mystery that would remain unsolved.

Leander was hunched by the fire that was well nursed through the night and soon, hungry stomachs would be awakening. He looked at Tiriok and wondered what hunting experience he had but then gave up on the idea of asking him. A walk would do him well. "I'll be back, breakfast, watch Melindre."

Slinging his scabbard blade onto his back he headed out of the camp from the direction of Natalia's tent. A pinkish-grey mass stood out against the trees, outline hazy in the mist that clung between the brown bark and green undergrowth. It hummed, and the air around it rippled with static as it approached Leander. Wings unfurled and snapped with a sound almost like thunder, and it shook its head much like a horse might.

Coming to a halt as the dragon came into view, Leander assumed a defensive stance without thinking. But as he realized what it was and had a moment for his head to catch up with his body, he relaxed. "Arryndyr" Leander greeted the thing, as though it was human with a small nod of his head. He approached with caution, "shouldn't you be with Natalia?"

His whole life he prepared to become a Dragon Rider but there was nothing that prepared you to be in the midst of actual dragons. Leander was still astonished by their magnificence. But below the surface, there was darkness, hatred. Jealousy? Envy? It was strange to have such contradictory feelings when he looked at the creatures.

"She was looking out for you. I don't know how much she understands me, but it seems she did well enough."

Natalia stepped into view from Leander's peripheral vision and stood beside her dragon, resting a gentle hand on Arryndyr's head. The dragon nestled into the touch and let out a soft hum as Natalia fixed steely eyes on Leander. Though she was dressed plainly, at least from her usual standard Leander noted, the stiffness of her shoulders and up-turn of her chin reminded him of the times he had seen her at court.

"We need to talk, Leander."

"Lovely." His boots sunk into the dew of the grass as he walked past her toward the wood. "I hope you can keep up then."

"It came as quite the shock to me when you spoke against me in front of the others," Natalia said, hurrying to catch up to Leander as he made for the wood. "I expected you more than the others would have supported me."

Leander crossed into the thick of the forest. Natalia practically nipping at his heels. His eyes rolled instinctuallly at her dumb comment. "And why would you expect that? Because we are both nobles?"

"What good that title has seemed to do you or I in the past month," Natalia said. "No, Orestra be kind, are you going to make me say it, Leander?"

"It seems like you might have to" He skipped over a fallen tree with ease and began to weave through the ones still standing. Leander's pace quickened, almost as though as he was trying to outrun Natalia's lecture, but he knew it would be futile. Her shrill voice would echo through the woods and find him no matter where he went. Realizing it was useless, he slowed and looked over his shoulder at her as she stumbled over the log, her dress in her hands to free her legs as not to trip. It was a pathetic sight.. and yet he couldn't find the words to mock her.

"I told you to keep up" a hand outstretched to the frail woman to help her over the fallen trees.

"If this is any indication how you respond to problems in your life, it is no wonder we made it away from Augar without a fight," Natalia huffed, waving away Leander's hand. "Don't hasten your pace then make it my fault, Lord Kilnwood. No, I expected you to support me because you're supposed to be my fucking friend."

A hand tapped the amulet about her neck.

"I don't have anyone else, not really. And though the gods must have a sick sense of humor for making it so, they have made my once source of comfort and familiarity you of all people… And it felt like, oh I don't even know what it felt like."

Natalia let out a harsh bark of manic laughter.

"Gods be good, am I really so stupid? To be this hurt, by you of all people? You must think me an idiot girl right now."

Leander shrugged and turned to continue into the forest. Heavy boots carrying him forward. An open hand appeared at his side and simultaneously light solidified into the figure of a bow and arrow but before he continued on, he paused.

"...have you ever maybe thought that I didn't back you up because I am your friend?"

Friend? It felt so unnatural to say and his body practically recoiled at the audible validation of what he was to her and what she was to him.

"Forgive me if I don't see the connection between those two statements," Natalia said, crossing her arms. "Explain."

"Because I didn't want you to die." Leander turned to look at her. "Think about it, Natalia. We just escaped Atheno and a Bloodmarked. Not to mention the city has been overrun by forces we know nothing about. And then there was that suspicious boyfriend of yours with his equally suspicious timing. It… it just wasn't the right time. We would have been killed. You would have been killed. I know you think me a fool but when it comes to battle and strategy I do know what I'm talking about."

"Is that jealousy I detect?" Natalia asked, and Leander could not tell if the words were meant to be teasing or not. "I do not think you are a fool. If the gods gave you anything, it is looks and a mind for battle, I know that. Half of Atheno knew that. I just… Ah, I just thought that you and I might just push our luck a touch more. And…"

Natalia paused, sighing and shaking her head.

"Savor these words, Leander. It was wrong of me to put that responsibility on you. I just don't know what to think anymore. In some ways, this is the exact sort of thing I dreamed of as a girl - a chance to break free of what path my life had been put upon, but… I just can't leave my family like that. But none of that should be your burden."

Leander's stance relaxed and he stepped toward Natalia. He sighed along with her. "I know all too well how the chains of family can suffocate you and block out any ray of hope for a different life… but just because you want to save them doesn't mean you can't break free of them and forge your own path."

"I will help you Natalia.. but only when the time is right. I won't put yours… or anyone else's life in jeopardy."

Leander couldn't help but avert his gaze. It was awkward and unlike him to say such kind things. Natalia had told him to savor her words but it was her that should savor his.

"You can't even do me the courtesy of acting like the mummer's image of Leander I heard about at court," Natalia said, crossing her arms. "All this support and thought, it's quite unlike you, Lord Kilnwood."

"Probably best you just forget it then." Leander returned an irritated face. "I can easily go back to telling you how dumb your idea was and how useless you would be in a rescue mission if you prefer."

"I almost wish you did, it would be one less strange thing to contend with in these uncertain times."

Leander sighed and looked blankly at Natalia. "Fine, do whatever you want Natalia. I offer to help you and you badger me for it. Go and get yourself killed then, see if I actually care I guess." He crossed his arms and began to turn away from her in a similar fashion to a young child storming away.

"You make it so easy," Natalia called after him. "Go, stomp off, clear your head. And Leander?"

"Well you know, I thought you might be grateful" he shouted back, catching Natalia mid-quip as he whirled around in fury. "After all, you have no one remember? Or was that some manipulative tactic to try and make me feel bad, offer my help, and coddle you like your parents did?"

"So you can collect the tithe, but you can't pay it," Natalia said dryly. "Leander, if I can't nag at you for the little things anymore, then I worry what happened to the man who once told me to stop feeling so sorry for myself. By your own admission, we're friends - or as close to an admission of friendship as I'll get from you - so why don't we put this behind us?"

White knuckles appeared at his side as he stared at the frail woman a few paces away from him. He didn't like it… showing a piece of him to have it spat on. "I haven't changed, Natalia…" he looked away, thinking back to when he first met her and all that had happened in between. "You don't understand." Green eyes panned back to Natalia. "But fine. We won't speak of this again. When it is time, we will try and rescue your parents."

"I'll make you tell me one day. And I'm not ungrateful, Leander. And I didn't intend to manipulate you - I'll leave you be."