The Legend of Renalta (IC)

((Note: This is a collab--not a GM post. Posting this due to Becca being largely away from her home for the holidays.))

Catrin and Kouri: Titleless
((@Becca as Lady Catrin, @Nilum as Princess Kouri and Kaiser the Royal Hound))​

This was her chance. Everyone else would be dispersing to give themselves opportunities to rub elbows with the rest of the group or to process everything that had just happened. Catrin slid through the crowd towards Kouri then began to sweep into a curtsy for the Princess. Rather than properly hold the respectful gesture she dropped to her knees in front of Kaiser and offered a and for him to sniff.

"Good morning, Kaiser. Good morning, good morning!" Her voice was almost sing-songs, as most people talk when addressing a sweet dog. If he seemed to accept her after sniffing her, she would start to gently scratch behind his ears and continue cooing at him. "And good morning to you as well, Princess Kouri."

"Ah, fair lady," the Princess bows her head respectfully in greeting. "I am afraid I did not catch your name?"

Kaiser cautiously sniffs Catrin's hand, learning her scent. Once he realized she was no threat and she was attempting to appeal to him with her higher tone of voice, he bows his head and pants happily--though his ears remain perked up, as he remains ever alert for trouble.

"Lady Catrin Thorngage, Princess. Please, only call me Catrin. Under your rightful rule I have no ladyship to lay claim to." She didn't lift her head to meet Kouri's gaze as she continued to skritch behind Kasier's ears and try to kiss the top of his head.

Kaiser simply sits obedient as he is kissed on the head, though his tail swishes back and forth for a few moments in happiness at Catrin's affections.

Kouri, on the other hand, appears somewhat perplexed by Catrin's answer. "What do you mean, that you have no ladyship to lay claim to?"

"Should I join the newfounded Kingdom of Renalta, as I wish to, I will not be Lady Thorngage as I was before. I have renounced my title in Liveria, but my alliances seem to hold steady anyhow. How could I serve the monarch of one land while profiting in another?" She kissed Kaiser's head a few more times while petting him before slowly rising and moving to take a step back.

"I am loyal to you, Princess Kouri. Liveria may no longer claim me."

"I see." Kouri replies, simply and indecisively. It seemed that she wasn't certain how to take it at that moment, but nonetheless, she nods. "I thank you for your loyalty, though I am afraid I have not really earned it from you."

Catrin swept into another curtsy, smiling at Kouri once she was upright again. "You have earned it by being what the legends say so far. You haven't given me a reason to believe you do not deserve my loyalty. Should that day occur, I may change my mind. You seem more than worthy so far, Princess."

The words felt odd in her mouth. No one had ever refused loyalty from her before. Court had been such a tortuous web of shifting loyalties and honeyed words that such a response was unheard of... until now, of course. Princess Kouri was a curious one. She bowed her head then left the princess so that others may have her time.
 
Quirin and Kasienka: A Quiet Interlude
As written by Becca and Script​


Once they were dismissed Kasienka made a beeline for Quirin. He had been so quiet, only managing a stuttered introduction. She was worried for him already - if he couldn't handle introductions then anything with actual conflict would be sensory overload. She was slow as she approached him, trying to keep from spooking him or his little apparation.

"Good morning, Quirin. I am Kasienka. It is a pleasure to have you accompanying us." Her voice was softer than usual, and a kind smile molded her face into a bastion in warmth and serenity. "Although, it's a bit loud here, isn't it? What do you think about joining me to the library?"

It seemed as quickly as they had arrived they were to be dismissed again, as though the whole purpose of the gathering had been to wheel out the princess and say 'look, we weren't lying'. Rin wasn't sure if the round of introductions had been supposed to be motivational, or just worrying. He certainly knew the effect it had produced in him. Still, he wasn't about to run away now. He'd come here so that he wouldn't ever have to do that again.

Lingering in awkward uncertainty as to where to go next, and caught up in his thoughts as he was, he didn't notice Kasienka's approach until Nyu prompted him with a nudge. He blinked in surprise - what interest did she have in him? - and turned to face her as she spoke. "Oh. Ah, good morning," he answered, returning her smile with one slightly more hesitant. "Thank you. And ... you as well." He cast his eyes around the room at her suggestion that they depart, lingering on a few of the more intimidating faces, before nodding. "The library sounds ... good," he answered with a nervous laugh.

She tilted her head to the side as she watched him, wondering where all this anxiety came from. Ultimately it didn't matter too much, not right now, and so she began to lead the way towards the library. It wasn't much, but it would hopefully be enough to make Quirin more comfortable. It seemed like it would be a home away from home.

"You know I don't bite, yes?"

Rin kept pace with Kasienka as they walked, his gaze habitually fixed on his feet. He glanced up at her question, however, nodding quickly. "Of... of course. I'm sorry if I come across as reluctant to talk, I just... don't have a lot of practice, when it comes to meeting new people." Smiling tentatively, he gave a small shrug and looked back down at his feet. "I'm more accustomed to the company of books, and of my elementals." As he spoke, he reached up a hand to scratch Nyu gently behind the ear. The shadowy black rat nuzzled into his touch.

"And so we shall give you the company of your books." Kasienka was incredibly grateful she had the time to explore the compound before today if only for this chance to help soothe a party member. She opened the double doors just enough for the two of them to slip in then walked about to further open the flames of the ensconced lanterns on the walls. They shed light on the underground tomb of tomes and revealed just how deep some of the shelves went.

"Is this more your speed, Quirin?"

Rin smiled bashfully, nodding. The scent of old books was a familiar comfort indeed, and when it came down to it, between the shelves... libraries were all very similar. It was almost like home. "Ah... yes. Thank you. I hadn't realised this was here..." his eyes drifted across the shelving, scanning the spines of the ones that were close enough. A lot of historical titles, as well as some military. A few were rare enough to be quite valuable.

"You can call me Rin, if you like..." he added as a hesitant afterthought. "Not many ... well, only my mother and her colleagues used to use my full name. My ..." he hesitated, deliberating on his choice of words, "... friends, call me Rin."

"I shall call you Rin, then. Whatever makes you most comfortable." She slipped past Quirin into the room and let herself drop into an armchair that looked older than she. Kasienka picked up a book that had been left on the table beside her. "I'm sure you will find plenty more friends here, plenty more people to call you Rin."

The young scholar smiled faintly at that, stepping further in to begin taking a closer look at the shelved histories and running a gentle touch over their spines. "Perhaps," he answered after a moment. "I would like that, I think ... although, I'll admit to feeling more than a little ... ah, out of place. Our allies seem to almost all be warriors or nobility of some repute." A nervous chuckle. "I fear they would have little time for someone like me."

Kasienka shimmied deeper into the plush chair and watched Quirin move about. "Well, I think you shall change your mind on that the more you get to know us. If nothing else, I know Hanus would be quite happy to spend some time with you. He's about as quiet as you are, the two of you should click right together. Given how long he has lived you may care to hear some of his tales."

"Plus, some of the nobles are probably far more affable than you think. If they weren't they would still be at court."

"I hope you're right," Rin said, although sounding clearly dubious. There was a brief lull in the conversation as he plucked one of the books from its shelf, dusting off the cover and examining it more closely, but after seemingly realising his silence, he spoke up again. "How is it you met? You and Hanus, that is. Did you come to aid the princess together, or..?"

"I was patching up a caravan which had run into some rather rude orcs. He came along asking if I had seen someone he was looking for and indeed I hadn't, but apparently my skills at patching people together attracted him. He invited me back to the compound to collect some chamomile, as I had run out, and I haven't truly left since. Plenty to do here." Now she picked up her own book and began to read it, comfortable in the silence. After all, she often spent months in her own silence.

"The two of you seem close," Rin remarked after a short pause. "That... must be nice."

With a book now in hand - a volume on Renaltan history, rare enough in Liveria to have been absent from the library where he was raised - he settled himself in a chair across from Kasienka.

"We are, and it is. I cannot imagine going on a journey like this without anyone to care for." She sat quietly after that, slowly flipping through her own book while tucked up in the cushy chair.

Rin frowned down at his book at Kasienka's words. It wasn't so hard to imagine, for him. There was nobody he cared for in such a way. "In some ways I think it might be easier, not having something so precious to lose." Certainly, not having anything to return to was one of the reasons he was willing to engage in a life-threatening mission.

"Precious to lose indeed, so I shall fight all the harder for him. I have a definite future to look forward to if we both survive. I have someone to talk to when things become difficult and I question myself. I do not have to face the darkness we are entering on my own." Kasienka went quiet for a minute then looked up from her book to look at Rin with a small, but calm smile.

"After centuries of walking on my own it is such a relief to have someone to walk through the last of my centuries with someone." It was odd to say it out loud, but there it was. She had only known Hanus for a few months, but he brought about a certain calm in her she hadn't felt in a very long time.

Giving a slow nod, Rin looked up and smiled back at her. "I ... am glad for you. I don't think there's been anyone I've felt like that for. I have Nyu..." he paused to gesture at the shadowy rat upon his shoulder, that blinked one yellow eye open in acknowledgement before shutting it again, "... and Cinder, and they're friends, but..." A small smile, and a shrug. "I suppose there'll be plenty of time for that after ... if we win."

Kasienka nodded slowly then sighed and put the book to the side, rising and moving towards the door. "Well, in any case I think I'll go find him now. You have the library, and I'll be at the training area if you want to find me."

Before she left the room she turned and smiled at Rin, tilting her head against the doorframe. "Don't shut yourself in here too much. I'm sure there are others you would like to talk to." She gave a small wave before turning and leaving.

"Ah ... of course. Until later, then," Rin nodded to Kasienka as she departed. Once she was gone, he gave a small sigh and turned back to his book. Nyu stretched on his shoulder, and his eyes darted towards the elemental. "She seems nice, at least," he said quietly. "And she's probably right. We shouldn't stay here too long."

His gaze dropped to the book. "...ah, I'm sure we have time for a little reading though, at least."

At that, he was quite certain that he could hear Nyu rolling its eyes.
 
Jaquaar and Lady Catrin - Piracy, Politics, and Pleasantries abound!
(Feat. @Becca as Lady Catrin)
​
Jaquaar was preparing himself for his first meeting with Kouri when he caught the attention of the beautiful woman who proceeded him in Royal recourse. The red-haired Catrin was a stark contrast to Kouri, in more ways than just the opposite shades of hair. Whereas Kouri had a strange reservation about her, Catrin seemed to exude a strange confidence that was, quite frankly, enticing to the Free Holder. He offered her a smile as he walked over to her, bowing his head politely. "If I knew that adventuring had so many pretty faces, I would have taken up the call years ago. I do not believe you introduced yourself to the rest of us? I remain Jaquaar, if the lovely lady did not catch my introduction." He smiled at the woman, a broad and Cheshire-like smile as he took a moment to take in her beauty.

Catrin paused on her way from the Princess, happy having pet the noble hound if nothing else. She offered her hand to him as he spewed compliments in her direction. She gave Jaquaar a polite smile and a bashful blush, flicking her eyes down to his shoes then back to his face.

"You say this as if you have neither adventured before nor seen a pretty lady, both of which I doubt are true in the slightest. Regardless, I remain Lady Catrin Thorngage. Is there a surname you wish to grace with with? Or will I only have your words to impress me?"

He laughed at her polite smile and her well-crafted blush. The Lady attached to her name was of particular interest to him, as he wondered just where she might hail from. "Jaquaar Iqbal-Moineau, at your service. I can give you the entire introduction again, if you want, but it is very long and exaggerated." He grinned as he looked up at the woman, still feeling in his element in the presence of the woman. He was talented at pretending to be a big deal, if nothing else. "As for the adventuring call, I am still quite new to it all. I was more of a...theoretical adventurer before now, I suppose."

"Theoretical? I did not think such a concept could exist when the application of it is enough to make a bard swoon with possibilities." Catrin giggled, covering her mouth then looking up at Jaquaar with a sweet smile and an upward flick of her eyes.

"I suppose if this is truly your first adventure it will soon be women and bards praising your existence. You must be eager at this eventuality. Shall they call you Jaquaar the Noble or Jaquaar the Knave?"

"Well, I would hope that I can be noble in deed, for I am as much knave as I am noble in breed." He nods, enjoying the little word-play. It was a personal pleasure, to be sure, but he indulged none-the-less. "Not to say I don't have the starts of a following. My family and I, we would free slaves back in my homeland; capturing the slaver skiffs of the Free Holds Warlords has made me a noble to a few, I am sure. What about you? Where does the lovely noble Lady call home?"

"I used to call Liveria my home, but it was no place to truly live. I was seen as a whore because I used that which the gods graced me. Using my body was terrible enough for the stuffy fellows, but magic on top? No... I may have been granted a title and an allowance, but I can no longer call this place home.

The only person who cared for and kept me safe in the land left to join a battle against orcs, and so I withdrew once he advanced. Here I am." A small smile tugged at Catrin's lips as she met Jaquaar's eyes. "Not that I am completely without resources. I have my remaining friends and resources. If I was to reach out to them I'm sure I would get a few valuable responses."

Jaquaar's eyes briefly lit up at the mention of the noble's Liverian heritage. "You are of my mother's class, it seems. How wonderful." He laughed at that, clapping his hands briefly. "You cannot have only bad stories to share from Liverian nobility, surely. My mother spoke of the grand balls, the instruments, the dancing, the beauty...There are certainly worse fates." He chuckled at the little in-joke, as he thought about whether Catrin would do so well as his kin, were their situations exchanged.

Talk briefly shifted though, as Catrin mentioned her resources, and her magic. "Well, I would be careful who you call for, Lady Catrin. From what I know of rich people, many a loyalty can be brought, or sold." His expression grew ever so slightly more intense and sullen, as he stared into the woman's eyes for a moment, trying to size up the loyalty of this difficult-to-read woman, before breaking back into smile. "Now your magic I find far more intriguing. What tricks does a Liverian noble have up her sleeves, other than a penchant for knowing people?"

"Loyalty is certainly a fickle and expensive beast, but I find that these creatures are bound to me by far more than just coin." If she was as bestial as the creature she described the smile she flashed would have been filled with fangs. Instead it was just a shit-eating grin for a moment.

The question brought her back to the present and now she smoothed a kinder smile onto her face. "Oh, I'm not very good at it. Just enough to express to others if they have scorned me." Catrin held up one hand and let a small bunch of embers weave between her fingers which were snuffed out after a few rotations of her hand. "Not much, but enough."

"What a very dangerous power you have, to hold sway over people like that." He smiled at her, although the smile had grown a little more subdued in the face of her shit-eating grin. It was becoming very apparent that perhaps Free Holders and Liverians were not so different from each other, in their capacity for cunning. When she showed off her little tricks with the embers, Jaquaar laughed off the momentary tension. He clapped once at the display, before reaching into his pocket to withdraw a small coin. "Hardly a talent to be ignored. If you'll excuse the metaphor, it seems prudent to fan the flames of your pyromancy." With that, he flicked the coin into the air, only to force it to dance in the air, lunging back and forth and up and down in the rhythmic beat of his fingers, tapping against the air. "Still, I don't have much more to ask of you. I would go and attend to my needs, unless the Lady has something else to ask of me?" He let his smile hide the slowly rising tension in his gut.

Catrin's eyes grew wider than the coin as she followed it, her lips parting slightly. She had never seen a trick quite like it. There was no time for him to set up a thin thread to dangle the metal from, nor did it appear to be some sort of spell. The lady was quick to take off the thin gold bangle around her wrist and offer it to the pirate in front of her.

"Can you do the same thing with this? I've never seen something like this before! None of the court entertainers thought of such a thing!"

"I certainly hope not, otherwise you have been sold fake gold." He laughed, before flicking the coin into the air, before catching it. He then presented the little disk of metal, showing it to be an iron coin stamped with the face of some random Free Holder warlord. "My magic only works with magnetic metals. Iron, Cobolt, Nickel, or anything that smelts them in." He grinned as he hovered the coin between them, nodding for her to take it. "I am not very good with the niceties of magic, but I apparently have a natural aptitude for this school of magic. You can probably imagine the sort of trouble you can cause with spells like this, no?" He grinned and chuckled as he observed her open merriment. The adulation was clearly well received.

Catrin nodded her head then pressed her lips together, thinking over the ramifications. "It must be very hard to put shackles on you which you cannot then remove yourself. Very advantageous for a pirate." She slid the bangle back around her wrist then smiled up at Jaquaar.

"And I suppose many weapons and suits of armor would be under your command as well."

"Weapons? Yes, they are a personal favourite to tinker with. Armour? I have very little practice with armour, actually. The heat of the Free Holds does not favour cumbersome metal armour. The few times I ran into it, it was a ceremonial set." He paused for but a breif moment before continuing, his smile a bit more level. "As for shackles, I avoid them. If you are trying to proposition me, Lady Catrin, I must warn you. We Free Holders prefer dinner first. Far too often, the shackles don't come off per say. You’ve got to make sure you get something out of it." He laughed at the lurid bit of humour, not entirely sure if the Liverian noble would get the joke otherwise. "Alas, the day is young. I'm sure a lovely noblewoman must have much to do. May I be excused? Unless you need more from me, that is."

"I... sir! Heavens! You paint me as a red-blooded woman? I say not!" She threw her hand across her chest, her mouth agape in fake indignation. Catrin giggled afterwards although she recognized the reference behind Jaquaar's comment. Such dark topics would have another time to come to light.

"I shall let you be, I am sure you have other women to attend to and charm." She winked at the pirate, the first pirate she had met, then bobbed a tiny curtsy and went to go find the baths. It would probably be her last chance before the journey.
 
Jaquaar and Sabre - Two Free Holders walk into a prophesied mission to dethrone the gods...
(Feat @Otomos the Crazy as Sabre)​

Sabre watched as the others had made their introductions. The point of paying attention to these people was to see who he was to work alongside. They were a...unique bunch. At least, unique to him. Still none seemed to leave a first impression that left the former slave feeling anything more than indifferent. Hell, some had even managed to raise his suspicion. It was mainly a remnant of how he once felt, but it hadn't been that long, so the negative feelings still came on strong.

He glared at the one named "Jaquaar" for a moment. The man had the extravagant name of a Free-Holder. It wasn't quite something that Sabre wanted to deal with at the moment. Sabre shook his head, and walked off to the side. He felt that he shouldn't care that much. It was a small reason, and should everything go the way others hope, then it wouldn't matter in the long run anyway. So he stood in a spot to the side, and waited for everything to be situated.

Jaquaar caught Sabre's glare at the back-end of his introduction, and had managed to put it aside as he conversed with both the Princess and with Catrin. When all was said and done though, and he saw the man alone to the side, he felt curiosity overtake him. He approached Sabre from the center of the room, making no bones about his approach until he was a few feet from him. He lifted a hand and waved once, the familiar cock-sure smile still on his face. "I don't think we've met, have we? You glare at me like I cheated you out of a winning hand of Poker, so I am just making sure we have not met. You said you were...Sabre, yes? A Spell fencer or some such? Cannot say I have heard of that magic, but I am curious none-the-less.”

The former slave had hadn't bothered to turn his head toward Jaquaar's direction, opting to simply look towards him with cold eyes. It was unintentional, of course, but they were cold regardless. The Free-Holder definitely had the kind of up-beat attitude that Sabre had seen among some of the more confident Free-Holder citizens. Then again, that was just him thinking too much on it. He had decided to get his mind off of it by answering the question.

"Swordsmen with a focus on enchantment magic. Does that sate your curiosity?"

For a moment, Jaquaar's smile falters in the face of the Ex-Slave's bluntness. He frowned for a moment, scratching his beard as he thought about how best to continue. "Uh...well...I suppose it goes a fair way. You didn't answer my first question though; you look at me like I've poured sand in your only pair of boots. Have I offended you in some way? If we are to travel together, it seems prudent we start off on the right foot, no?"

Sabre closed his eyes and let out a sigh. He had worried that the interaction would come to this. Perhaps 'worried' was not the right term. More like he was hoping that it wouldn't, as speaking honestly would likely involve some sort of confusion and misinterpretation. Sabre had considered simply avoiding the subject, but as Jaquaar had said, they should start off on the right foot. And honesty was a trait that matched.

"You remind me of the Free Hold. Most of the people from there are people I either don't care about or loathe."

Sabre opened his eyes, and turned his attention to the rest. The time for preparation and introductions was coming to a close, so he had decided to wrap this up as well.

"If you're that worried about making a first impression, then don't. You've left as good of an impression as everyone else."

He took a few steps forward, then stopped to say something before joining back with the others.

"We are both here to protect the princess. It seems as if we'll be heading off soon."

"Well, uh..." Jaquaar frowned in the face of the Ex-Slave's verbal barrage. Clearly, the man had little love for the free holds, which told him enough to make an educated guess about what he had once been. As Sabre walked away, Jaquaar called out to him in a vain last attempt to get his point across. "I am here if you need to talk, friend. Sometimes it is good to be reminded of home, even if home is a sour sandpit."

With that done, he looked around the room a little stumped. What the hell was he going to do now?
 
Kerat and Kalemn - Killing in the name of (gold)
(Feat @Grothnor as Kerat)​

“Your gear seems pretty worn out, Kalemn.” Kerat approached the warrior in the main hall without warning. “Seems like your unit ran into some hard times,” he commented, hoping to elicit a response that might shed some light on who she was, as well as point out a remediable issue.

“Unit?” Kalemn repeated, confused, before realizing what the orc was getting at. “Ah. I’ve worked alone. Local, you see. Farmers and local lords can barely afford a handful of swords, let alone an entire unit.” She grinned easily up at his towering form. “Same reason why the gear is run-down. Not much money out here. Not much at all. How ‘bout yourself?”

“Did some of the same in my early days. Had my fill of the Free Holds, and moved south to Rheinfeld. ‘Course, I learned quick that contract work is better: more reliable pay, people at your back. I joined the Grey Griffins and things were looking pretty good. Then we lost our boss, Samuel, in battle. Shook up the unit’s morale pretty bad. Then, when it was clear the new boss couldn’t command for shit, he was... ‘encouraged’ to give up command. The next boss was better at leading, but had a lot to prove. We got into more fights than we needed, and when work began to dry up… well, I got out fast after that.” Kerat left the implication of banditry unspoken.

“Anymore of your life story you’d like to lay out there? How were things with your mother?” Kalemn jested before sighing and settling further into the wall at her back. “Free Holds, huh? You’re a well traveled orc, that’s for sure. I’ve barely even left these fucking hills and fields. Only a couple of brief visits to Rheinfeld, here and there. Gods, at the very least this’ll be a chance to see the world.”

“Eh, Rheinfeld is just like any other place. Only difference is they lynch mages instead of orcs, which is fine by me. Free Holds are alright, so long as you got someone watching your back.” He frowned. “Can’t say I’m glad to be headed back, though.”

“Tend to make some enemies when you kill for a living, don’t you?” Kalemn said, “Meanwhile, I’ll be leaving all my enemies behind.” She shrugged. “You’re a big man, I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

Kerat grunted. “Anyway, you should look into getting some better gear while we’re here. The King’s Rangers are professionals; they won’t let the folks guarding their leader run into battle with a cask-head and a fire iron.” He gave a sidelong glance, “Of course, if you’re feeling attached, I might be inclined to do something to keep them in decent shape…for the right motivation.”

Kalemn laughed. “I have never heard someone talk half as shady on the topic of gear maintenance. What are you going to do, wash out the rust with the blood of children?” She shook the hilt of her sword dismissively. “A blade’s a blade, no reason to get attached to it. I’ll be fine swapping this one out for one in the armoury.”

“Pity. I was hoping to sell you on the ‘children’s blood’ trick. Jesting aside, I know a bunch of tricks for keeping your stuff in shape without paying for it. Was just hoping I could squeeze a few copper out of ya.” He made a toothy grin, hoping it wasn’t too off-putting.

“If I had copper to give I’d already have paid you for the pleasure of putting my scars into perspective,” Kalemn grinned and threw a sidelong glance towards Ludvig, “if only because I’m not one for putting coins in a dead man’s purse. Too used to it working the other way around, yeah?”

Kerat unleashed a powerful and deep belly laugh which echoed through the cavern. Once his laughter died down, he declared, “I like you,” punctuating the statement by pointing at Kalemn.

Kalemn gave a small bow. “Then it seems my work here is done. Busy days ahead, and I’m sure we’ve all got things that need doing.”
 
Cináed and Kouri - Lending an Ear
As written by Script and Nilum
​
Whilst it would have been easy to wither under Gregory's gaze, Cináed met the older man's assessing eyes with his own, bright with wilful determination. When the others began to drift apart in pairs and groups, the farmboy hesitated, unsure as to who to approach. As he did, his eyes came to rest once more on the princess, and he frowned faintly. She looked troubled. Such was to be expected, he supposed, considering the gravity of their mission... but was this something more?

His mind made up, the young angel-touched stepped forwards tentatively to approach her. He wasn't sure if there was any further specific decorum to follow when it came to addressing royalty. Hopefully in these circumstances, ignoring (or not knowing... mostly not knowing) such formalities could be forgiven.

"Your highness?" he queried with a soft voice, concern obvious in his eyes. "Is something troubling you?"

"You needn't call me highness. My name alone will do, Cináed." Kouri replies with her soft tone, and equally gentle smile. It seemed, however, that the trouble remained in her eyes, as she avoided looking at him eye to eye. "There is something troubling me, yes. I am not certain that it is something that can be helped, however." She turns toward the brazier once more, the light from the flames keeps her face lit up, as her smile falters.

"Ah, sorry, y- Kouri." Cináed corrected himself with a bashful grin, though his expression quickly shifted back to one of worry once she turned away. "Maybe not," he went on after a moment's pause, "but my mother always says that a burden shared is a burden halved. I know I'm only a stranger, but if speaking of it would be of use, I'm happy to listen." He offered the princess a reassuring smile, the warmth of the brazier reflected in his eyes.

A few moments of silence follow, as the Princess seems to ponder as to whether or not she would respond. The warmth of Cináed's company, however, prevailed. "Those who follow me... I barely know any of you. I do not want to carry the weight of your deaths on my heart, nor do I know the true nature of your aid, or the aid offered by any others here... I appreciate it nonetheless, but, I cannot help but wonder: Why did Gregory choose each of you, rather than his own men? Something about all of this does not add up, and I am afraid it may cost some people their lives, quite senselessly."

Cináed nodded slowly in response to Kouri's concerns. They were, admittedly, quite valid. There was no denying that some members of their company, Cináed included, were far less experienced and capable than the King's Rangers themselves. He paused in thought for a good few moments before he answered her, wanting to be sure of his words. "I may not be able to speak for any of the others, but I know that I'm here because I believe in my heart that you are the best hope for this world's future - for my homeland's future." He smiled brightly to her as he continued. "I know the risks that the journey will entail, but I choose to take them of my own free will. Should I die, it will have been for a cause that I believed in, and I think that's true of most, if not all of us. We are all going into this journey knowing what the consequences might be, and that choice is wholly our own, not something you need to burden yourself with."

He paused again, and gave a soft laugh. "Of course, I know isn't as simple as just deciding not to feel bad. But truly, we all believe in this cause enough to risk our lives for it. So it is not on your head if that risk comes to pass." Hesitating then, he glanced away in the direction that Gregory had gone. "As for why us? I... couldn't say. But I trust that the Rangers have a good reason. I think that it's a question only he can answer, though. Could you not ask?"

"I have. He did not answer in a way I understood. He simply stared at this brazier and said, that there were fires far greater than my own, which he listened to." Kouri glances over to Cináed, and smiles a little--though it seemed rather genuine. "I thank you for your words. They are most kind, but such weight is still upon my shoulders, in a way that no kind words can dispel. Still, it is good to know... That you, at least, seems quite genuine in your loyalty to me. I know not why, I know so little about you... You speak of your homeland. What was your life like, before you came to me?"

Cináed smiled fondly as the princess' words sent his mind back to his home. "It was simple, I suppose. By comparison to most here, at least. I lived on a farm in Renalta, in a village called Elor, with my family. I was training as a healer under my mother. Both my parents - my father in particular, used to tell me stories of Renalta before the fall all the time while I was growing up. I don't think there's a Renaltan alive who doesn't know the tales, but I used to spend as much of my time as I could get away with poring over my mother's books. Usually when I was supposed to be studying herbs..." His eyes, having turned distant as they gazed into memory, refocused on Kouri, and he gave a slightly bashful smile - conscious of his mind having drifted away. "I want to see those days return. When Renalta can be worthy of such tales again."

"A healer? Well, I am afraid you will have your work cut out for you here." Kouri replies, as her eyes fall back to the flames cradled within the brazier. "I will try not to fail you, and everyone else."

"And I you, princess. But succeed or fail, I'll stand by you till the end." Cináed said with a determined nod, watching Kouri's downcast eyes with an edge of concern. There might be nothing he could do to alleviate her worries now, but he resolved that he could at least try and improve her mood.

"You know, when I set out from home, my brothers thought I was crazy for following a 'story' off into the unknown. They said I'd be back within a week, and were making bets on how many days." He laughed at the memory, grinning. "I wish they could see me now. Colin particularly - he always pretended to be bored or dismissive when father was telling stories, but he really loves them almost as much as I do. And for that matter..."

Unless Kouri seemed inclined to halt him, Cináed quite happily proceeded to launch into talking at length about his life back in Elor - from mundane stories of village life to slightly less mundane troubles with raiders and other outlaws. He sought to put the princess more at ease, and cheer her up with amusing anecdotes and by simple exposure to his overall good cheer. He paused to give her chances to comment where fitting, but seemed at ease whether she did so or not, and was content to chatter away until she tired of his seemingly endless well of positivity. To some, it might have been thought inane, but he hoped that for Kouri it would be a welcome distraction from her worries - at least for a while.

As the flames flickered endlessly, so too were Cináed's tales. Tales which made Kouri's otherwise stark expression break with a small smile, here and there. A few minutes pass, and the Princess sighs--not in agitation, but with satisfaction. One of her smiles finally persists, and she turns and looks over at him. "You are so determined to make me smile? Well, you have managed it. Still, as much as I would like to hear more about your simple life, I do believe others are vying for my time as well. Thank you, Cináed."

Cináed returned Kouri's smile with a bright - albeit slightly bashful - grin. "Of course, princess," he answered, bowing his head slightly. "I'm happy to talk any time you need an ear, or if you ever just want company."

With one final bow, he stepped away - still slightly giddy from the idea of having just held a conversation with the Princess Kouri - and began to wonder on where next he would seek company.
 
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Dagra and Kerat - It's not Easy Being Green
A collab with @HerziQuerzi
​
Kerat felt compelled to speak to Dagra. Even though he was disinclined by her ‘noble’ heritage, he was well aware of the troubles orcs faced, half-bred or full. “Not every day you see an orc in full plate,” he rather indelicately opened.

“Nor that I meet someone taller than myself,” Dagra answered carefully, trying to weigh up the towering form before her. His scars and ramshackle array of weapons clearly stated a life of brutal violence, and he had said he was a mercenary. A self-interested and cruel profession as a rule, but Dagra was determined not to jump to conclusions too early. “My father gave this armour to me as a gift six- no, seven years ago.”

Kerat sniffed, unimpressed by the generosity of others. He hadn’t gotten anything without blood, sweat and tears and looked at generosity as an unfair advantage at best. “You here as part of your father’s court, or are you here on your own?”

“As far as my father is concerned,” Dagra replied, “I’m still wandering the Remnants.” The half-orc hesitated for a moment before continuing. “If you don’t mind my asking, where were you born?”

“Free Holds,” he stated flatly.

Dagra frowned. “As a slave?”

Kerat gave a tired, affirmative grunt. “A slave-soldier. Why are you here?” Kerat brusquely and abruptly changed the topic. “If you aren’t here on you father’s orders, why help the Princess?”

“Because it’s the right thing to do,” Dagra answered, frown deepening. “What other reason could I need? What drives you to help?”

“Gold and glory. And, uh, what was it called?” He mouthed out words quietly until the right combination of phonemes came to him. “‘Professional Obligation.’” He nodded to himself, content he got the words right. “I don’t abandon my bosses easy, and the Princess is my boss’s boss, so I work for her.”

“It won’t be an easy journey,” Dagra pointed out, “loyalty will be hard pressed. But I suppose professional diligence is a virtue of a kind.”

“Hmm….” Kerat could have told her it was simply in his best interest, but he tired of the conversation. He was slightly disappointed they didn't have much in common after all. After a few moments of silence, he simply said, “Later,” and ended the conversation just as abruptly as he started it by walking off.
 
Catrin & Tahlia
A Lady's Maid?
A collab between @Becca and @Holmishire.​
Making her way to the bathhouse, Catrin would notice a large wolf lying in wait at the entrance to one of the chambers. His head in his paws, Faolan briefly opened one eye to survey her, but made no movement to stop her approach.

As Catrin stepped into the chamber, she would find herself faced with the sight of a small woman setting her robes aside at the edge of the water. Hearing her footsteps, Tahlia turned to look up at the noblewoman, eyes registering momentary surprise. "Hello, Lady." Tahlia blushed, and looked down away from Catrin's eyes. "I hope my presence will not be a bother."

After having her talk with Kouri and Kaiser she was ready for a bit of a refresher. She carefully stepped around the huge wolf and was quick to shuffle into the warmth of the bath chambers. They rippled with a faint magic that made her feel at home and so she slid her dress off without qualms.

"Of course not, why would it?" Catrin strode across the room without shame then slid into the water with a soft sigh, submerging her head then slowly surfacing and shaking her head. "Your name, madam?"

"I thought… I thought that someone of your high standing might be used to a bit of privacy. I'm sorry, I shouldn't make assumptions." Demeanour relaxed somewhat, the young blonde poised herself at the edge of the pool, teasing the water with her foot before committing. Still, she held herself modestly, as if slightly intimidated by her companion—for what reason as of yet unclear. "Tahlia Wether, hailing from Rheinfeld." As she spoke, she took up a mildly teasing tone. "And yet while this is the second time I have introduced myself in your presence, I am quite certain your name has not been offered quite as freely."

"A farmhand would have substantially more privacy than me. They do not have maids or handmaidens whose job it is to bathe them, clothe them, pray with them... Peers who would happily tell any dripping of information to their superior in hopes of a few extra coins at the end of the month." Catrin shook her head before finding a submerged bench to put herself on.

"I am Lady Catrin Thorngage, formally of Liveria. I cannot call it home any longer as I now pledge my undying allegiance to the Princess Kouri." She picked up a piece of sponge and began to run it along her dripping arms and the back of her neck in attempt to rub off the last scents and dirts of her homeland. "I apologize for not remembering your name. The oddest fellow with purple eyes and the bird had my undivided attention for quite some time. You may like to speak with him as well."

"I have—" Tahlia noticeably paused, words caught in her throat. "—crossed paths with James, already. He was quite generous, if a bit single-minded." Satisfied with the water's temperature, she finally allowed herself to slide into the pool. Arching her spine back and a bit to the side, she dipped her hair into the water, starting to pull out any knots that might have formed therein—she did not yet, however, submerge her face. "Did you say you prayed? I had never taken Liverians to be a particularly devout lot."

Catrin watched Tahlia with a smile as she slipped into the water and filed away that tidbit on James away for later. It was hard to look away from Tahlia as she moved in the water, a small blush gracing the trained noble's face. She took a deep breath before moving closer to Tahlia and offering to help with the knots.

"I began as a lady's maid, I can help with your hair. I did pray. I prayed until I felt the gods did not listen and would only taunt my prayers with false hope or ironic twists. We are not by and large devout, but I reached for what I could."

"Oh—thank you," Tahlia murmured, shifting her weight to a more comfortable position that allowed Catrin easier access to her hair. "Perhaps I was too quick to assume of your people. I've seen little of the world outside these mountains—I guess that will soon change, for better or worse."

"Better or worse..." Catrin murmured as she worked on untangling Tahlia's hair with the help of the warm water and a few drops of oil from a bottle by the edge of the pool. "I will be glad to be further away from Liveria and hope to remain away for quite some time. Renalta sounds like such a better fit for me. I can only hope that we will make it far enough to see it return."

As she felt oil applied to her hair, Tahlia turned halfway to look back at her. "You don't need to get so fancy, I'll only mess it up again later." She then shifted back to forwards-facing. "Renalta, for now, is nothing more than a dream. Even if the Princess is able to reclaim her land, there's no telling what sort of nation it will grow into, or how the world around it will act after so cataclysmic an event." She sighed, wistfully. "How could you not miss the familiarity of home, of family?"

"Everything gets messed up at some point, but it's nice for the time being." Catrin kept her hands to herself now, beginning to scrub and detangle her own hair. She was quiet and kept herself busy while Tahlia spoke, and a little longer afterwards as well. Tahlia was right, of course, but that didn't make it any better to hear about sometimes.

"It's quite a sweet dream. I think we'll get there... and this is already better than home. I can have a frank conversation and not worry about it reaching the ears of those who would use it against me. I also do not feel pressured to find a man, or woman," she nodded with a smile then continued, "to fill my time with in order to later fill my pockets and stomach."

She submerged herself in water and rinsed her hair before surfacing and smiling at Tahlia a little more shyly than before. "We've only just started here, but I like it better already. We'll figure each other out as we keep going."

It was the young priestess's turn to blush, as she became aware of the possible implications behind Catrin's words and gestures. "I'll… look forward to it. It's been too long since I've had the luxury of pleasant company." She hesitated, and then grinned, leaning in to whisper in momentary mock confidentiality. "At least, of the 'not-so-furry' kind. And if you ever need some comfort yourself," she added, denoting her now polished hair, "I would be glad to return the favour."

Catrin smiled proudly, having made a friend, then giggled at the idea of the dire wolf being a companion. "He does seem quite friendly, or at least he didn't do anything when I walked into the baths. You must have trained him very well." She slicked her own hair with the oils to detangle it, but otherwise made no movements of leaving the tub.

"Trained? Oh, you hadn't heard, then." She took on a more sombre tone. "Faolan is—or was—human, until I trapped his soul in this form. It was that, or let him die, and I couldn't, wouldn't just sit by and do nothing."

Catrin was quiet. She knew the taboos of this sort of magic, but the woman in front of her didn't fit her mental image. There was no crooked nose or gnarled fingers. She was beautiful, young, and... scared. The noble put on her kindest smile then reached out and gently squeezed Tahlia's shoulder.

"So you saved him the best you knew how, and he remains with you despite his circumstances. I think it was very brave what you did, and quite powerful."

Jolted by Catrin's touch, Tahlia looked up to her again and feigned a smile. "I appreciate your kind words, but it was cowardice, not bravery, that guided my hands that night." Turning towards the edge of the pool where she had laid her clothes, the young priestess bowed her head. "Perhaps… I should go—I'm sorry to have soured the mood.

"You are not as I expected, Lady Thorngage. Should our dreams of Renalta ever bloom into reality, the Princess would do well to have you at her ear."

"Well, if you are certain it was cowardice, it was the bravest cowardly action I have heard of yet. Be careful not to let any bards hear of it or else the rest of the world will never know the end of it." She settled back against the bench as Tahlia left, not wanting to drag out this discomfort for her any longer. Catrin was happy to simply soak for a little longer.
 
Fresh Meat
a collab with @Orion​

The scrape of metal on stone filled Kerat's now tiny world, occupying his attention in the moment, rather than any of his worries or anxieties. Letting his mind wander, he began reflecting on his new allies and the roles they had to play in the upcoming weeks. Some had obvious purpose, like Marcus and Hanus. They were warriors and soldiers, like him. Others were more sly and cunning like Mikan and James, and were there in order to talk and lie, things Kerat couldn't do. The mages were easy to identify as they had little to no weapons. And of course, there were a few noble folk hanging around too. Kerat couldn't comprehend what they could offer, and consequently why they were allowed, beyond that nobles tend to attract other nobles, and considering the Princess' lineage, it wasn't surprising to see so many obvious political hangers-on.

He continued through the list of faces until he came to Dean's, and realized that he seemingly didn't belong to any obvious category. Standing, he only then realized that he was to be a traveling companion among them, and wasn't just some servant. Striding over to where Dean was, he straightforwardly asked, “What do you do?”

Dean had been standing on his own after the group at large had been addressed, having been handed the facts he wasn't sure exactly what to make of it all. He felt his options were rather limited given the choice he had been provided, but at the same time felt no immediate desire to try and escape. Something about the grand scale of the potential adventure ahead excited him, and even if presented with an easy out Dean wasn't sure he would take it. The Princess, from what he had seen at least, was the real deal and that carried it's own reward should they succeed in their journey. The risk of escape held no equal prospects, and so for the moment Dean would remain steadfast and face whatever lie ahead.

Presently that happened to be a rather large figure, one that had shockigky managed to creep in close to Dean without his noticing, he jolted back for a moment as he took in the full view of what was now very clearly an Orc. Trying to stifle any alarm that may have taken him, he recomposed himself and stood as tall as he could in opposition to the Beast. As Kerat spoke Dean relaxed, his initial alarm dissapated, and a cool grin returned to his face. "That's a hell of a question, big Fella. Why do you ask? You need something done for you?"

Kerat blinked, mildly confused by Dean's response. He was unsure of what to think of him and therefore unsure of how to treat him. "So... you're a servant?" He hazarded.

Dean tilted his head at the Orc as Kerat's confusion became clear. After being called a servant Dean crossed his arms in front of him, and narrowed his eyes at Kerat as his own confusion grew. His gaze shifted downward to look at the sword and sheath clasped upon his waist, making sure it was still there. Looking back at the Orc he tried to work a sentence out. "I... No. What? Oh god, do I look like a servant to you?"

Kerat's brow furrowed in confusion, "I don't know, you asked if I needed help, so I-" Kerat stopped himself and huffed. "Look, you're here for a reason, so what do you do?"

"Suppose I'm a sort of sellsword." Dean replied at last, not sure what else to really call himself.

"You don't look like much of a sellsword." He looked over his equipment, clearly unimpressed. "You don't even have a shield. Go get one. Talk to one of the Rangers, ask for a gambeson too."

Dean put up his nose to Kerat, mirroring the Orc's unimpressed attitude. "I see, common misunderstanding. I said I was a 'sort' of sellsword. Must be a kind you've never seen before." He snorted and backed away a step. "Furthermore, I'm not keen on playing dress-up at another man's whim. I'll get a shield when and if I want one, and as for a gambeson... I don't entirely know what that is? Sounds heavy though. No thanks."

Kerat rolled his eyes and sighed at Dean's blatant inexperience with fighting. He wasn't going to bother beating some sense into him; that was Marcus' job. "Whatever you say, meat. I hope you got other tricks up your sleeve, for your sake."

"Whatever you say," Dean echoed mockingly, he never took well to being underestimated. "You're a lot more meat than I am, big fella. Keep your concern for yourself."

Seeing no point in continuing their conversation, Kerat turned and left wordlessly. The fool would learn, or he would die, and Kerat didn't care which.
 
Tahlia & Oswald
Convergence of Parallel Paths
A collab between @Holmishire and @Potatocat.​
In the initial bustle as the gathered adventurers decide upon a temporary course of action, Tahlia scanned the throng for one man in particular—a face she recognized, if only barely. Beside her, Faolan motioned with his head towards one of the doors leading out of the chamber.

Taking advantage of her diminutive size, Tahlia slipped through the crowd and stepped pertly in front of Oswald, gently holding a hand out in front of his stomach—at a distance far enough to allow him to step away should he so choose, and yet still clear that she wished for him to stay. She took a deep breath as if steeling herself for what was to come, and then visibly relaxed her posture and looked up at him. "Hello, Oswald, of Heiligen Stuhl." She smiled. "I… am glad, to see you here."

Oswald was walking away, towards the stables when the small women lept out in front of him. He stopped suddenly, nearly tripping. Visibly shocked, he stood there for a moment looking at Tahlia. His eyes refusing to meet hers. "I... I highly doubt anyone here is glad to see me, ma'am." He shifted about nervously, readjusting the weight of his kit.

She frowned. "And yet I have just informed you otherwise." She shifted uncomfortably herself, sensing his disquiet. "Not all good men live good lives—but you're here now, helping the very people you once hunted. Is that not proof of reform?"

"Thank you ma'am." Oswald finally brought his eyes to meet Tahlia's. "Your words are kind. I will do what I can to earn such sentiments." There was a certain light in his eyes now, and he seemed to relax slightly. While Oswald still felt unworthy of the kind words, he found some relief in the thought that his companions may very well give him a chance to prove himself a changed man.

"This entire expedition is to be founded upon trust—and for that, it is necessary for us to put aside our pasts." Unlike Oswald, Tahlia was not yet at ease, something still troubling her internally. "I have a question, and though I won't demand an answer from you… I still feel the need to ask." She glanced past the former templar momentarily, and after a flash of recognition crossed her face, she looked back up at him and lowered her tone, speaking quickly. "Why did you leave the Order, after all these years? I can't imagine betraying your brothers-in-arms to have been, well, easy."

At the mention of the Templar Order Oswald's eyes flashed with rage. His permanent scowl deepened and he clenched his fist so tight his knuckles turned white. "The Templar Order is nothing more than a tool of oppression. The Gods little more than petty children, and all shadowed beneath a cloak of righteousness and good deeds." He spoke with deep anger and hatred. His words hurling forth with enough force to knock down walls. "Once I learned the truth, the decision was easy."

Tahlia frowned, again. "Oh. You act as if the Templar were entirely evil—misguided as they may be, were you not trying to help people?" As she spoke, Faolan moved in from behind Oswald to then stand by her side, nodding his head the large man respectfully. Tahlia continued unabated. "You cannot just dismiss them all so quickly."

Oswald let out a prolonged sigh. "Plenty of good men to be sure, but the Order itself is built upon a foundation of pain and oppression. But yes, many good men. I do regret being unable to try and show any of them the truth. I would've been branded a heretic and killed."

"Good. Perhaps, should our little party gain traction along the way, more shall learn to see clearly—with or without the guiding light of the Gods. Rheinfeld will have a place in the new world, I am sure of it." Tahla smiled and bowed her head in gratitude. "Thank you for indulging me. Extremism exists on both sides; I needed to know that you had not simply traded one for the other."

"Very well." Oswald gave Tahlia a nod. "Now excuse me. I have preparations to make before we start our journey. You should do the same."

Tahlia shrugged, muttering that she had nothing to prepare, before stepping aside to let the man pass. Once the two were alone, the priestess motioned for the wolf to follow her as she left the room. Faolan padded along behind her obediently, but his gaze lingered at the point from which Oswald had left—though he did not doubt the man's loyalty, he sensed that something in the man's character worried Tahlia.

And whether he agreed with her concerns or not, that meant he'd be keeping an eye on the former Templar for some time.
 
Hitting Things Off
a collab with @Goldmarble​

It was always difficult getting to know one's new comrades. Such a thing often happened in his line of work: fresh reinforcements, new employers, unit reorganization. Kerat knew that getting to know and trust one's companions was essential to the functioning of a unit, so getting to know others and getting others to learn about him wasn't just courtesy, it was professionalism.

The dwarf woman seemed to know what she was doing. Dwarves usually did, in his experience, so he approached her. “Nice helmet,” He said without preamble.

As the assembled gathering began to split apart after the introductions were finished, she was just tucking the empty pouch under her belt, when she could feel the footsteps that sent faint tremors through the ground, and looked up to the looming presence of Kerat. She could smell him just as well, an almost feral smell of rank sweat, oil, and general grime. It reminded her of the smell of a battlefield itself. At his comment on her helm, she nodded in honest agreement, "Aye, it is. Saved my life more than once, the work of my brother's hand has." She offered it up to him so he could inspect it. In the process, her eyes ran over his form from the corded muscles and somewhat lean physique that hinted at the speed and capabilities he might possess. Judging his strength and running a spar through the distant back of her mind of how she would counter him in a spar...or battle. He had the obvious advantage in strength, most Orcs did regardless, but that hadn't stopped her from bringing them down to her level before. More evasion than blocking of their larger swings, get inside of their reach...

"The face is Haragzum, a transparent metal. Harder and lighter than steel, but also quite brittle." Exemplifying her remark, upon inspection, it could be seen that there were three, glossy smooth chips out of the material, small enough to not hinder her vision. "Not as easy to shatter as glass, obviously, but a hard driven spear, would likely cause significant crazing, or shatter it."

Kerat admired the craftsmanship of the helmet. Aside from the three dints she pointed out, it was nearly untarnished by battle. He nodded appreciatively, “Fancy.” He handed it back and took a knee to get on more even footing with the dwarf, now that they were talking. “I don't usually wear helmets. Whenever I go berserk, I always feel like my helmet blocks my vision, so I end up ripping it off anyway, and I usually lose it. Helmets my size aren't exactly cheap, you know, especially if you're replacing them after each fight.” He scratched his beard thoughtfully, “You said your brother made that, eh? Out of curiosity, how much would you say something like that costs? A helmet with a hargza-whatsit plate.”

Taking the helm back, she nodded in understanding of his issues. As he crouched down, she still had to look up to him, likely would unless he were laying down. Regardless, she shook her head at his idea, "Expensive. Haragzum is a metal we only get in rare quantities, in trade with Mechanists. Even then," she gestured to the helm, which was something akin to a barbute with a large, rectangular opening for the face, where the flat, rectangular plate of transparent metal was braced within, "This is considered a large piece. What I know of the metal, is that is almost like a crystal or....pottery. Only workable when it is raw formed, and cannot be re-molten. By my brother's own admission, he dared not cut or trim this piece to make it fit better, for the sheer risk of ruining the entire plate."

She looked up from the piece of armour, looking over Kerat's own dome, "Perhaps you could look into an open barbute, or even a simple conical helm. Something that sacrifices some protection, for greater awareness. Possibly a Mudro..." She pauses, looking for the name the humans used, "Sallet would work?"

“Uhh, sure....” Kerat knew she was naming helmets, he just didn't know anything more about them beyond that they protect heads. “Doesn't really matter though. From what you told me, it definitely sounds too expensive for me. Maybe after this job, I might afford something like that.” He shrugged.

Looking up at him, she smiles softly, reflecting a bit of pity, respect, but mostly realization. "I take it you learned by doing, more than training?" It wouldn't surprise her to learn the details of his history, or his lack of education. She had met a few Orc mercs who were fairly exemplary of the method. She had also met one or two Orcs who had been trained by humans, and educated in the arts. They were awesome to behold, the mixture of their excellent reach, crushing strength, and cunning skill all became more than most other peoples could handle in a one on one fight. She looked over to where Marcus was setting up equipment, before looking back up to Kerat, reaching up to shift one of the drying strands of hair back from the edge of her right eye, "Do you have time to help me with some sparring?"

“Hmmm....” Kerat tugged his braided beard thoughtfully. “I don't usually. Best to not risk getting hurt, but I think the King's Rangers have some practice weapons.” He grinned, “Just promise you won't hurt me too much.”

With a grin, she started walking over towards where Marcus was setting up the training gear. "The purpose is to learn, and understand how the other fights, to understand other forms of fighting, develop counters, and improve." She nodded to Marcus, as she picked up an axe with a wooden head, weighed within it to provide the correct balance. It was a bit lighter than her own weapon, if only by a quarter pound or so. Also differing in having a simple poll on the reverse side, rather than her axe's sharp, penetrating spike. She also selected a smaller round shield, which was roughly the same weight and size as the ones she usually used, enough to cover roughly eighty percent of her body. "We'll go slow to start, as you said; Not wise to risk an injury the now."

Back-pacing into the center of the cleared space, she donned her helm, and with a slow roll of her shoulders, she set herself into a ready stance, leading edge of the shield forwards, covering her left side. Her right arm raising the axe to a high-guard, "Come," her voice was warm and friendly, eager at this prospect of sparring with someone who not only had far greater reach, but strength, height and weight. The challenge was delicious. Through the clear plate of metal before her, she was grinning like a predator, play-fighting with its pack.

Having selected a large round shield that was slightly smaller than his and a longsword that seemed positively short in his hands, Kerat took up a fighting stance. It had been a long time since he sparred; he wasn't exactly sure how not to go all out, but it quickly began to come back to him. Stepping forward, he thrust his shield edge down towards Armerza, following with a thrust of his sword.

Studying his form, she slipped to the left as Kerat began, neatly dodging the shield, and putting herself on his right side. Catching the dull weapon's point with her shield, she guided it past her in a dull, raking sound of wood against boiled leather. Even so, the force of the blow pushed her aside as well, and forced her to step back. Faster than I thought, but just as strong, no wonder he survived. The thought flowed as an under current of the sparring, while her mind was focused on the task at hand. But with his arm extended, she had a quick opening. Punching upwards with the top of the weapon where no edge was present, but a couple pounds of mass made it into a powerful bludgeoning tool, aimed at his forearm/wrist. On normal humans, it would potentially crush bone, or cause a violent shock to disarm her opponent. Against armoured men, it frequently caused a deep pain that slowed their attacks. With Kerat....she was hoping to teach him to not over extend past his shield, thus, wasn't using her full strength.

"Over extended. Shield protects your arm." She stepped back, and performed a quick thrust with the axe as a demonstration, as her right hand lashed out, her left brought the edge of the shield forward to cover her extended limb. Stepping forward again, she settled back into her stance, and motioned for him to come at her again.

Growling in frustration, Kerat fought down the rage that spontaneously spiked with Armerza's strike. Adrenaline rushed through him, heightening his senses and sharpening his skill. He came at her again with renewed vigor and ferocity, using aggressive footwork and strikes to rapidly force her back.

The first strike was powerful, hammering off of her shield like a boulder, the second came as a back swing which caught her slightly off guard. His speed seemed greater than he had any right to be, and each strike came with the strength of a hydraulic hammer in a forge. He forced her to give ground, as she did, she checked behind her, managing her retreat, veering to her right. Shedding blows from the sword and shield, she could feel her shield arm going numb from the thundering strikes. She waited, attempted to counter and get within his guard, only to have Kerat step back himself, keeping her within his enormous reach. Driven back further, her face red with effort, sweat runneling down into her gambeson.

A sudden thunderous crack echoed throughout the chamber, as the haft of the axe snapped across from her own strike, which Kerat caught, rather than deflected. The head pinwheeling with a vicious whirr before clattering to the hard floor. She didn't have time to be distracted, as the blade came for her still. Backing off, Armerza steering herself a bit more to the right, before she felt, and heard, the shield splintering, the wood starting to give way after being pulped by their combined strength. There. Kerat raised his blade, slashing down diagonally, and she braced the shield with both arms, catching the training blade with the edge. The wood splintered around it, but the rawhide surface helped to keep the wood from shattering. Violently twisting, Armerza wrenched the shield to the side, with a vicious twist that would sprain or snap a man's arm byt the sudden torque. Kerat let go instead, rearing back his left arm to punch his shield down into his opponent while she was busy and off balance. The shield instead stopped momentarily before hitting the dwarven woman, the edge caught by the massive stone pillar. Momentum, strength, and weakening stress caused the grip and reinforcing spar to sheer free of the shield, even as the main surface buckled and splintered, only to fall to the ground, with a dull thud and clatter.

Armerza blinked, and began laughing. Falling to her knees and leaning on the nearly destroyed shield she held as she howled, fumbling to remove her helm to get air, she managed to get out, "Draw, this time!" She had never had this happened before, a spar ending because of broken training gear.

Breathing heavily, Kerat briefly examined the ruined shield in his hand before tossing it aside. "That..." he gasped between breaths, "...was good." He extended a hand to Armerza to help her up. "Good fight." He smiled and savored the fading haze of endorphins and adrenaline. Nodding, he said, "That was fun. You fight well."

Taking his hand, she rose with a grin still on her face, "You fight impressively well for someone without regular training." She dropped the remains of the shield, rubbing her shield arm with a grimace, "Your strength is formidable, but your quickness and speed is what is most surprising. There are somethings you could learn to pick up, like using your environment, or better use of your shield and armour." Drenched with sweat, she chuckled, "For now though, I need to get clean. We'll need to do this again some time Kerat!"

"Yeah, maybe. We'll see." His words were non-committal, but his tone and his smile said otherwise.
 
Jaquaar and Kouri - The Princess and the Pirate
​
When all was said and done by the various figures of authority, and with the introduction of the handsome guard dog Kaiser, Jaquaar found himself standing still for a few moment as he mustered up his courage. Gregory, Marcus, and Hanus all stood as imposing figures around the room; in no small part due to his less-than-stellar record with figures of authority and regimentation. Strangely enough, leaders did not like pirates, even ones so heroic and dashing as himself.

Not that it would deter him. Jaquaar mustered up his courage, and finally made his move. He stood a few feet from the Brazier, and from the recently withdrawn Princess. “A fine speech, Princess Kouri. Finer even than my own. If there are any lingering doubts in your mind about disappointing your new cohorts, let me try and alleviate them. I am impressed, and as the most impressive of your new associates, that must count for something, no?” Jaquaar smiled at the Princess, putting on the strength of bravado and the bluster of confidence that his outward façade awarded him, so as to quell any lingering fears and trepidation. "If you don’t mind, I’d like to extend a more...subdued introduction, I hope that I might answer any questions you have for me, or even about me. While most of what I said was for show, I meant it when I said it will be my honour to travel with you." He would have joked about how rare it was that someone got to travel with legends but, depending on who you asked; that was his entire life up until he left his father's ship.

Kouri continues to stare into the brazier as Jaquaar speaks to her. It seemed that his false bravado did not surprise her, or draw much of her attention away from her own thoughts. Nonetheless, being owed a response out of courtesy if nothing else, she replies quietly--sufficiently so, that the sound of the fire almost muted her voice. "I appreciate it. You may speak as you wish to me, Jaquaar."


"Hmm, well, then I suppose I get to speak with you frankly." He sighed heavily, letting the tension show for half a second as he slumped next to the Brazier. "I travelled a long way to meet you, Princess. I'm just glad that you actually exist. It is reassuring to know that I'm not going mad." He laughed nervously, as he felt his hand stroke at his facial hair.

"Of course I exist, why wouldn't I?" Somewhat bewildered, she turns away from the brazier and looks down at Jaquaar. She speaks again, with some concern. "Do people truly think I am a myth?"


"No, no. That's not what I meant. It's just..." He pauses for a moment, lifting his hand before stopping mid-sentence. There wasn't much of a good way to say this, so he just swallowed his pride and continued. "...A few weeks, I started having strange...visions, I suppose; fleeting images of a blue-haired woman in a field of fire. A part of me was worried I was going mad, but my gut told me to follow the dreams, which led me here." The Free Holder gave a heavy, heavy sigh as a hand lifted and ran through his hair. Bravado was gone, as was most of the confidence. Strange what admitting he'd literally come on the whims of a dream could do for a man's visage. "Sounds mad, doesn't it? I followed the few clues I had from the dream, which led me to your legend, and the legend of your country. I made my way to the remnants when your rangers found me and..." He petered off, before adding a little wave of his hands as a sort of 'Ta-da' moment.

"No more mad than wishing to banish your creators I would imagine." Kouri kneels down, her attention finally fully drawn away from the brazier as she pats Jaquaar on the shoulder. A reassuring smile reaches Kouri's lips as she speaks further. "I appreciate your trust, even if I cannot fully return it."

He smiles at the feel of her hand on her shoulder. "I mean, I technically tick that box too now. I suppose it takes a double-mad soul to change the world." Shaking his head, he grabs her hand gently and shakes it. "As for trusting me, I'll just have to work on earning that, won't I?" Releasing her hand, he reaches into his pocket and grabs a small metal coin, flicking it between his fingers to try and give him some way to release the tension in his hands. "Right, well...Uh. Is there anything else, Kouri? I'm willing to answer any questions you might have, if you're...curious, I suppose; got to work on earning that trust at some point."

"No, I don't think there is anything I need to ask you right now," the Princess replies softly as she pulls her hand back. She stands back up, and turns her attention back to the flickering flames of the brazier.

"Well then. It's an honour and a pleasure Kouri." With that, Jaquaar does an exaggerated bow for the Princess, the metal coin hovering a few inches past the edge of his fingers as he does so. As he rises, he catches the coin and turns from the woman. "I will not be far if you need me. Just...perhaps a bit further from the big scary ones than from the mages, you know?" He smiles and nods, before moving to leave.
 
Cináed and Dean​

After having whiled away a fair amount of time speaking with the princess, Cináed eventually left her company and found himself presented with the choice of where next to seek company. He cast his eyes around the large chamber wherein a number of his newfound allies were engaged in conversations, or had taken up weapons to train. After pausing to stare in awe as the towering amazon drove her fist straight through one of the practice dummies (and quietly resolving to make sure he never got in her way), Cináed's gaze came to rest upon one of the other younger members of the group, who he remembered had introduced himself simply as 'Dean'.

The other youth was engaged in a sparring match, but Cináed decided to drift over anyway, pausing at a respectful distance to quietly observe. He couldn't help but be impressed - despite their similar youth, it was obvious that the other boy had a lot more skill and experience with a sword. Cináed was just about confident enough in his swordplay that he thought he would pose more of a threat to an enemy than to himself, but that was about the extent of his capabilities with the weapon he carried largely for show.

Only once the sparring match ended and Dean's sparring partner had departed did he step closer. "Hello!" he said cheerfully. "It's Dean, right? I hope you didn't mind my watching."

He offered out a hand to shake with a bright smile that seemed almost to make his golden eyes gleam. "Cináed," he noted, in case Dean had missed his name amongst the wave of introductions. "I'm just going by what I heard of your accent earlier, but you're from Renalta too, right?"

"Dean it is." He replied cheerily as he worked a knot out of his shoulder. "And nope, no concerns at being observed here. Though I'm sure there are better sights to see in this damp, dark, shithole of a base." He continued stretching, eager to find another opponent among the ranks of Rangers. Dueling with Marcus had left him hungry for a fight, one he would win, and Dean was not easily deterred from things he wanted. But the young man in front of him kept on, and Dean could only look at the kind face and mirror the same, as Cináed extended his hand, Dean gripped it tightly. "Aye, caught it the first time, but a second pleasure all the same. Keen ears to pick up on my accent too, thought myself a proper speaking boy, and you're right. My home is Renalta, or at least what remains of it."

Cináed's own handshake was decidedly gentler than the other boy's, and his hands unweathered by labour, but he seemed unphased by the tighter grip nonetheless. "Whereabouts?" he asked, "I'm from Elor - a village in the midwest." A quiet and insular farming village nestled in the foothills, Elor saw few in the way of travellers or raids, having little enough wealth to make it a poor target for merchants and bandits alike. Cináed himself was likely the most exciting thing to come out of there for years, if only for his unusual heritage. "I'm glad to meet a fellow countryman here! I'd honestly thought there would be more of us, all things considered," he added with a bashful grin.

"Elor, huh? Never heard of it." Dean said with a shrug as he released the man's hand and tested the various straps and belts, ensuring nothing had come loose in his scuffle. "As for me, I'm from up North, in a place I'm sure you don't know the name of, and that I'm not even sure had a name - small place, y'see. Been living a bit of everywhere nowadays." Dean gazed at the group around him taking in what Cináed had said, realizing at last that he was right, and there seemed to be a great many foreigners with them. "... Well maybe our countrymen just couldn't be bothered to leave their farms. At any rate I say we call anyone joined here honorary Renaltans, and not worry about the rest."

Cináed laughed. "That's really not a stretch to believe, unfortunately. Most folk I know from home aren't exactly fond of change." It'd taken time enough for them to adjust to his mother, apparently, healing talents or nay. For all the people's fondness of the old tales, nobody seemed inclined to any form of action to push Renalta back towards those times. "But you're right. Everyone's here for the princess, that's all that matters."

A pause, as he looked over the others assembled, hoping that the optimistic statement stood true. That any ulterior motives, whatever they might be, would take second place to ensuring Kouri's success. His doubt was only fleeting, however, before he looked back to Dean and nodded at his sword. "So where did you learn to use a sword so well?"

Dean took an opportunity to sit at a nearby bench as Cináed spoke. Seemingly he had drawn a different conclusion that all those gathered there were exclusively there for the Princess' benefit, but Dean lacked any reason to burst that bubble. Instead he nodded along contently, looking down at the sword he held and shrugged as modestly as he could. "You're doing your utmost to flatter me Cináed, aye, I'm a competent swordsman but not of any real mention. My only intention with it is to survive, and to that end the best teacher has always been life on the road. Though some credit has to be given to my mentor, as fervently as he would deny it."

"Compared to anyone else I know from a small village in Renalta, you're certainly worthy of mention - although that may not be saying much, since the best swordsman in Elor was my da, and he's not seen much need for one for going on three decades now," Cináed shrugged with an easy smile. He was sure there were plenty better swordsmen in their homeland, but he'd be damned if he'd ever met any of them before now. Maybe he would, now. No doubt there were enough from other lands - not to mention the King's Rangers - who'd impress him before the day was out.

"Did you not depart on good terms with your mentor, then?" The boy tilted his head and lifted one eyebrow with curiosity, before catching himself and frowning faintly. "Oh, forgive me if that's prying too much. I'm always told I ask far too many questions."

"Not at all friend, just not sure how to broach the subject. I'll admit to not wanting to dig too deeply into the topic however, and given our short amount of time before we leave I'd like to do a bit more training. If you'll excuse me." He gave a short wave of the hand, and without really waiting he turned about to leave. "We'll speak again later I'm sure." He stepped back into the training area, quickly pointing to his next would be partner, and prepared for the next match.

Cináed nodded quickly as Dean announced his departure, but by the time he'd lifted his hand to return the wave the other boy was already walking away. "Oh- Until later then!" he called after him, a little taken aback by the conversation's abrupt end. He supposed that not everyone was as inclined to chatter as he was, and that was understandable. Recovering himself, Cináed turned with a smile to make his way to elsewhere in the fortress, to find either more company or something useful to preoccupy him.
 
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Sisera merely shrugged as the other members of the entourage introduced themselves. He hardly listened to them. He knew most of the others, especially the Rangers themselves, didn't think much of him. Still, they cared enough to track him down and bring him back to their sanctuary when they learned of his existence. He couldn't help but slightly grin when they finally looked upon the last Steward of legend who did battle with the angels, and saw a hobbled, scarred old man with little to say. His lack of socializing with King's Rangers during his stay with them was ironic since he had utilized their ancestors to the fullest effect during his tenor. Though he doubted whether they were aware of the "assignments" he had sent them on in the past. If they ever knew, he didn't know whether they would be repulsed or fearful. Maybe both. Some secrets were best left buried under the ashes of the old capital.

He glanced at Kouri for a brief moment, whatever expression he made was obscured by his hood. His dull brown eyes blinked for a moment before he turned and hobbled away towards the bathhouses, still keeping up the facade of his fake limp. He hoped the Rangers had not mentioned his injuries to Kouri, in fact he hoped that they didn't even mention his name to her. He existed to serve her in the background, to remain invisible while she stood on the highest tower of the capital. He would give her everything and ask for nothing in return. That was his role as the Steward, they were not nobility, they were servants of the highest caliber, though still servants nonetheless.

He heard chatter in one of the bathhouses and felt obliged to find another empty room so that he was free to undress himself without others seeing the burn scars on his body. It had naturally made him shy and protective about showing his bare body to anyone. The room was dark and the waves of heat and the feeling of the steam settling down on his face brought him peace as he slowly stripped off his clothes and gently walked deeper and deeper into the bath. He bent lower until his chin touched the water and his body was almost fully hidden by both the bath and the steam. Only now did he feel fully comfortable; safe and shrouded from anyone to potentially see the brown, black scar tissue and rough, unpleasant bumps that wrapped themselves like tendrils along his arms and legs and created deep canyons in the skin on his chest while it was impossible to see a clean patch of skin on his back that wasn't scarred or marked.

A small stream of smoke crept up from the water and form a tiny sphere that morphed and changed into abstract shapes and twisted into different colors. Sisera leaned against the wall of the bath as he gazed up at his method of both entertaining and calming his mind. He had secretly wanted to speak with Kouri, tell her a thousand things that he wish he told her back when he thought she had died. But now all those moments of urgent, hysterical regret were repressed. He was now her servant again. Nothing more, nothing less.
 
“I am here to see the Gods and their pets, the Angels either destroyed, or removed from influence of this land. None have earned their power, and they abuse it on a whim, like spoiled children...without the innocence.”
-Armerza Gilkak, Page 1.​

High Road, or Low Road?​

A day passes, followed by the night where most would rest. Though the sun would rise outside, none would be able to see or feel its warm rays within the confines of the dark underground they were currently situated within. The King’s Rangers walked about the guest quarters, knocking on doors to inform those not yet awake when the morning came. They would have only an hour to prepare for the meeting later that morning—the meeting where they would decide what to do next.

One by one, people filter into the same room where they had met the Princess. A table had been dragged into the room overnight, and upon it was a large map of the known world. The various countries—Rheinfeld, Free Holds, Renaltan Remnants, Liveria—each with significant detail, noting the locations of even minor hamlets. A few points had been marked, in different colours, and a series of paths looked to be drawn on the map.

The last person to enter the room was James, with an irritated scowl from the King’s Rangers’ leader. James clears his throat, as the leader of the Kings Rangers speaks. “You are late, Illusionist. Holding us up for a few minutes, for no apparent reason.” James shrugs, and replies nonchalantly. “I was busy last night.” There is no sign of Beatrice with him—he walked into the room alone, and over to the map. “Ah, just... Get on with it Gregory. Spew your dribble for conservatively minded plans in the most predictable twist since the sun rising this morning.”

Gregory’s eyes narrow into a glare, but after a few seconds and a quiet exhale, he closes his eyes, and turns back to the table. Once he thought that people had started to focus on the task at hand, he looks up to the Princess. “May I begin briefing your... Bodyguards? Companions? Whatever you wish to call them?” Kouri simply nods, quietly, though seemed to disapprove of Gregory’s annoyance toward her compatriots.

“Alright then. Let’s begin with the first path,” he points at a series of red markers on the map. “This path is rather simple. We’ll move you a few miles from here to the entrance of The Abyss. You will travel through the Abyss underneath Rheinfeld and the Blood Sea, emerging out in the mountains of the Free Holds. From there, you will travel either to Southblood or Ebonhold, and from there, our contacts will work out the second part of the plan with you—depending on your state of being at the time. This is a fast path, but dangerous—The Abyss is a constantly changing network of tunnels. You would need someone familiar with them, such as a Dwarf, or a Dark Elf, of which you luckily have both. You would have no allies down there, and the only sentient creatures you would find who would not attack you on sight would be the Dark Elves—and they are not a trustworthy group by any means. At the very least, you are likely to avoid most, if not all of the agents of the Gods taking this path, for it’s dangerous enough that they would not suspect the King’s Rangers to allow the Princess to take it.” With that said, he glances over at James with a smug expression. James appears to have no outward reaction, beyond crossing his arms.

James is the first to speak on this plan. “I like it. It’s dangerous, and fast moving, and the Gods will not find many friends among the Dark Elves—just like we will not. We have sufficient talent, we have sufficient numbers of allies—it is not an impossibility to cross. More importantly, it skips Rheinfeld altogether—no anti mages to stop me from using my talents, no Templar in pursuit of the blood of a magic-using Princess... It’s a good idea.”

Hanus, however, speaks second—and with a far more disapproving tone. “The Abyss is the most dangerous out all of the paths laid out on this map. I would be hard pressed to protect any of you there. The winding paths can lead not just to Dark Elves, but to monsters beyond your imagination. We would have no help, no allies, nowhere to run to—we would have to fight every battle to its end, and we would take casualties that we could not replace. As for the Gods, they need not follow us there—because it is a suicidal idea to seriously cross that much terrain rapidly and with an entourage as tempting as the Princess to go after. Dark Elven slavers would love to capture her, and bring her to the capital to break her in and sell her as an exotic toy for nobility to use... This is not a viable path. Choose something else.”

Gregory glances between them, then motions to the next series of marked points on the map. “This second path takes you through the mountains. They’re infested with orcs, but you should be able to work your way through them. Once through the mountains, you will move into the Kingdom of Liveria, to the capital. From there, you will take a ship up to the east coast of the Free Holds. This is a longer path, and the agents of the Gods are surely searching the mountains. On the bright side, we have ample aid both in the mountains, and in the Kingdom of Liveria, that can help you every step of the way.”

Hanus nods in agreement with the plan. “We have plenty of visual cover in the mountains, and I am far more confident of my ability to kill orcs than I am most things in The Abyss. Orcs are thick headed and foolish, and we can instill fear in them quite rapidly by killing their leaders and champions—they will panic and flee without a whip at their backs yelling at them. The Kingdom of Liveria would have many sympathizers, as they were once part of the Kingdom of Renalta, and only formed their own kingdom in Kouri’s absence. Finally, we avoid the magic hunters of Rheinfeld... Which frees us to act at maximum potential.”

Marcus, however, shakes his head in disagreement. This draws the ire of Gregory, but nonetheless, he speaks his mind. “Foolish. Walking straight into the arms of angels and their minions is pure foolishness. We could defeat Orcs in fair combat, certainly, but they number in the thousands, we number as a mere couple dozen. It is also the longest path, and the longer we take to reach our objective, the more opportunities we provide our enemies to send not just angels and their servants, but bounty hunters, slavers, mercenaries, and assassins after us... We need to take a shorter path. Maybe not The Abyss, but this is certainly not a logical option.”

With a sigh, Gregory motions toward the third path. “The third choice is simpler. You will head into Rheinfeld, to a village. At that village, you will meet with one of our contacts. He’ll guide you from there, to a boat on the coastline, which will be waiting for you specifically. This boat is run by... Less than savoury characters, but they have a grudge against The Gods, so they’re more than happy to work with us. They will take you across the Blood Sea, to the port of Southblood. From there, you will meet another contact, and they will help you from there, depending on the state of your group. We can offer limited assistance in this path, in the form of help at every step... However, outside reinforcements cannot be contacted, as any use of magic on that scale would be detected, and conventional methods would take too long to reach us.”

Marcus simply speaks, with an authoritative tone. “A better plan. It keeps away from the core of Rheinfeld, which means we can still use magic—sparingly. More importantly, it keeps us off the beaten trail, away from where the majority of people will be looking for us. Why search a tiny village, after all? Atop all of that, even if the local defender become aware of our presence, most would be militia... We could actually stand a chance of defeating them all, if we had to. Atop this, we have King’s Rangers who have scouted the area, at every step of the way. We have information, we have some modicum of speed, and we avoid the greater dangers of Rheinfeld... It is the best compromise.”

Finally, an impatient looking Mikan speaks her mind about it. “Seriously? Really? Nobody thinks this is a bad idea? Look, at least with the previous two ideas, we had nobody but ourselves to worry about. With this plan, we have to depend on someone, or even a group of people, at every step of the way. What if the pirates rat us out for money? What if the King’s Ranger is captured or killed and can’t lead us the rest of the way, then what do we do—wander across the country side in the hopes that we happen to reach the meeting point for the ship? There’s too many factors that can go wrong—namely, people. I don’t like depending on this many people, in my world, that would be a massive liability that would get the plan denied instantly. This all feels way too damn convenient.”

Gregory rubs his forehead in frustration, and points to the last of the paths laid out on the map. “The last path is a bit of a gamble. You will go the capital of Rheinfeld, and from there, you will acquire a royal commission. It’s easier than it sounds to get—we’ve already got it lined up for you, you just have to go there. It would mean having to disguise yourselves, and all the mages in the group would have to suppress their talents. On the other hand, while disguised and in the heart of Rheinfeld, you will be protected by one of the best military forces in the world. Nobody would suspect you going there—the agents of the Gods would not be looking for you there. Once you have your royal commission, you simply leave the city, and head to a second city-port. There, you will cross the Blood Sea aboard a cargo ship, captained by far more reputable sorts of people, who you could drop your disguises around once you’re out at sea. Once again, you will go to the port of Southblood in the Free Holds, and work your way from there.”

Mikan grins from ear to ear, and leans against a nearby pillar before speaking. “The capital, huh? I grew up there. I’ve got a few contacts that could help get us around the city, and get everything set up for that nice royal commission. They could even escort us out nice n’ quiet like, in a way that’d arouse no suspicion... The Templar there are normally off guard. They don’t search folks, unless given reason to. The guards are fat n’ lazy... Real easy to slip through if you know how, and I do. This would be really easy for us to do, since this place here has got hair dyes, and hells, I’m halfway decent with cutting hair and making people look different than they’re supposed to look. Trust me, this is the easiest path.”

James raises an eyebrow and looks over at Mikan, before looking over the rest of the group and spreading his arms out as he speaks—to draw their attention away from the woman, and to himself. “Are we really going to trust Mikan of all people? The person who admitted just now that in her line of work, she would trust nobody? And, I really do mean trust... Because while I have a few talents that could keep me safe outside of my magic, our Princess here has absolutely nothing to protect herself. She would be rendered without her own defences, and would be entirely dependent on us. How many of us even speak Rheinfelder? We’d have to disguise ourselves as foreigners, and we’d be at the mercy of someone who trusts nobody. If all of you are foolhardy enough to take this plan and cripple half of our group, fair enough... I suppose not everyone wants to live forever, anyway.”

Princess Kouri glances over each path, her blue eyes looking troubled with the decisions before her. Each had their benefits, and each had their consequences. “Princess?” Gregory whispers, snapping Kouri out of her troubled state. “Do you know which path you will choose?” She lowers her eyes, again troubled, before glancing out toward the group with her. “... I think, I shall listen to the advice of those who follow me. If they are to protect me, then I wish to know what they think of the paths ahead of them. I would rather not choose something that all of them fear doing. Besides that, I was taught that it is wise to listen to your followers... Even if you disagree with them.” Kouri smiles softly, as Gregory shakes his head and looks out to the group. The group that he plainly disregarded, and despised. “Speak your minds as the Princess has ordered. We haven’t got all day, make it quick.”
 
The few candles burned slowly in the dim, drab dining room. The only sounds that permeated were the sounds of the nobleman impatiently tapping his finger and Sisera pouring wine into two cups, one for the nobleman and the other for his father. When the boy was finished he placed the wine on the table and looked up at his Father, who smiled and ruffled his black hair.

“Thank you Sisera, now go in the corner and read, that lantern should be enough light for you.”

The boy nodded and quickly ran to the chair tucked away on the other side of the room picking up a book that read “Mages of the East and their practices”. The Father continued to ignore the Nobleman's finger tappings as he took a long, hard gulp of the wine, wiping his face with his hands. Frankly he didn't care if the Nobleman in front of him was disgusted with his etiquette

“I do not regret submitting the petition” The Nobleman suddenly spoke defiantly. “I broke no laws, Benjamin”

“No, you did not” Benjamin politely retorted “Nor is the Royal Family offended by the petition, we are always open to any concerns the Patrician families might have. What upsets the King is the way this was conducted.”

“My point was made, a public petition in the court guarantees a response”

“All it guarantees is a bloody mess with everyone leaving with a bad taste in their mouths. What you did was beyond stupid. If you'd have met with the King privately, Gods, if you had met me before pulling this stunt you would have been better off.”

“I have over 25 names on this petition Benjamin! And they are all important names, bringing the petition to the court is a sign of strength”

“A very hollow one because now nothing will get done. In two days time, you will go before the King and Queen in the court and repeat your oath of loyalty to them”

“What! How dare you! You dare insinuate that I am a traitor! Simply because myself and many other members of gentry want our property taxes lowered!”

“You presume too much. Despite this... uncomfortable situation. The Royal family knows you are a loyal, stead-fast servant. However, many of your...friends who are property owners on our borderlands are now inclined to have certain thoughts. Stupid thoughts that will go no where, but thoughts nonetheless. You retaking your vows of loyalty will put an end to such thoughts.”

“You dirty swine-

“You should be quite thankful that the King didn't decide to rip that bloody petition to shreds. We will speak about it after you have done your part. Is that clear?

“… By the Gods I hope your boy doesn't grow up to be like you”

“For your sake you better hope he does. For as much as you and the rest of the great families despise me, know that in the future if the friendship between yourself and the Royal Family becomes...strained, I will be your best defense.”

…

“And that boy over there may very well grow up not giving a damn about any of you.”


After those words there was a long, painful silence. Benjamin's eyes, which were often so full of drunken mirth now had an icy, dreadful steel behind those pudgy cheeks. The nobleman now looked down at his drink, humbled and privately humiliated.

“How is the book son?” Benjamin asked playfully

“Oh it's wonderful daddy, thank you for getting it”

“I'm glad to hear it son, can you get myself and our esteemed guest here one last drink to send him off?”

“Of course Daddy”

“That's a good boy”
_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________


Sisera had been awake long before the Rangers had begun to rouse everyone from their slumber. He was one of the first to enter the meeting room where he hobbled in on his fake limp and walking stick and sat down in a chair, holding his arms quietly and waiting for the others to fill in. His appearance was like that of some monk or cultist with his heavy brown robe and hood covering most of his head and face. The meeting started late because of James, but he redeemed himself in Sisera's eyes by mocking Gregory, prompting a small smirk hidden under that hood. Shortly afterwards, Gregory outlined each of the paths the group could take and he listened intently to the other four comment on it. Each of them made solid points that Sisera could only quietly nodded to. He wondered what choice Kouri would make and was pleased that she decided to ask the others for advice. After a moment of silence, Sisera stood up from his chair and slowly walked over to Kouri and the companions that surrounded her. He wondered how long he could hide the fake limp before danger presented itself and he would be forced to abandon it. Oh well, he would keep them thinking he was a weak old cripple for a little bit longer. It was frankly better that way.

He said nothing as he stood besides Kouri and eyed the map, looking at all four paths and the various regions and towns they would have to pass through. No matter which path Kouri ultimately chose, they were all troublesome. Still she wanted them all to speak their minds so he did as he was ordered.

"I agree with Marcus, and we should take the route to the village." he said, gesturing to the red eyed warrior whom Sisera briefly looked at with his own, dull brown eyes before turning back to Kouri. "It balances out speed with the danger and shall put you at the least amount of risk. The Rheinfeld country-side is quiet and boring, we most likely won't be noticed." He points on the map to the port close to the village. "And if these ruffians have issues with the Gods as the Commander says, then it shouldn't be a problem if they provide us passage, though expect a fee from them. And if they decide to...become less than polite during the trip we have more then enough skilled warriors to correct the situation without much of a fuss." He then pointed to the other three passages presented before him.

"We shouldn't take a chance with the capital or the mountain-pass as they would put ourselves and you at considerable risk. It would be far more difficult for us to guarantee your safety. He paused as his finger moved over the abyss, he quickly suppressed his memories as he swallowed lightly before speaking again.

"I've been down there before. I do not wish to go back there again, if I am being perfectly honest you you M'lady." he said quietly, not revealing more on the subject. It was now someone else's turn to speak on the matter
 
Cerise and James: Wisdom and Power
(glmstr and Nilum)
​

Following her introduction to the Amazon, Cerise spent only a few more minutes in the bath chambers before returning to the main hall. Most of the people still left seemed either uninterested or preoccupied, save for the Renaltan purveyor of parlor tricks. The demon-touched shrugged her shoulders, and approached him.

James was quietly feeding Beatrice some bread crumbs as Cerise approached him. His eyes shoot up once she was about ten feet from him, the purple hue in them seemed momentarily intense before a hint of confusion consumed them instead. “Ah, the demon princess? I have heard of you… Why travel so far to help a myth? Ah, but I suppose, I am getting ahead of myself.” He bows his head politely, before brushing his black hair back to see her more clearly. “I am James, the Illusionist. This is my bird, Beatrice. She’s smarter than she looks.” Beatrice caws at the remark, seemingly offended, but only momentarily before going back to eating bread crumbs out of James’s hand. “What are you doing here?”

“Not my own volition,” Cerise shrugged and took another look at Beatrice. “I was, er, told by others.” The demon-touched blew air at the bird playfully, then returned her focus to James. “You’re the only one here I inherently recognize, so why are you here? I’m at least here due to vague commands from the aether beckoning me to some nebulous ‘destiny’.”

“I’m honestly curious, just how much of your performances is, well, true magic rather than trickery? If you’re willing to divulge, that is.”

“I have as much magic as I need to get what I wish done, for the moment.” James replies, vaguely. He seemed amused to toy with her, but his eyes betray a certain amount of interest, and for a moment, he seems to let his guard down as his shoulders drop into a more relaxed state. “I know more magic than most would dare dream of, dear.” His voice speaks over her shoulder as before, though his lips do not move. “I can be anywhere, and be anyone. I can make people see things that aren’t there, and make real certain small things. I am not a normal man, and that is all you need know for now about that… As for why I am here? The Gods are in my way. They keep a natural order of things, and I need that order toppled. The Princess could bring great stability, and a golden age once more upon this beleaguered world… And that suits my purposes, just fine. Why are you so curious about me?”

“Trying to put me in a hall of mirrors?” Cerise smirked as he began to work his illusions. While she could not see through them, she at least recognized that it was happening. “You’ve got a reason to be here though, aside from some so-called honor or worshipping of an idol. If anything that makes you more trustworthy than most, no?” The infernal princess approached James and leaned against the wall beside him. “If Kouri goes, you don’t get what you want. So, you won’t let that happen. There’s no relying on some code of ethics that may or may not exist. I’ve dealt with enough of those types at home. Vassalage to a lord doesn’t mean shit when the other subjects are revolting.”

“Free Holders having true loyalty to anyone… Now that, would be a sight to see.” James retorts with a snort of amusement, as Beatrice hops off of his shoulder. He dumps the rest of the bread crumbs onto the floor, and she pecks away at them, though her attention still seems to be largely on their conversation. “I do not need to put you in a hall of mirrors. I need only your own imagination. Really, the imagination of anyone will do. All I would need to know is what you’re afraid of, and I could get almost anything I wanted… Yet… I hesitate. Perhaps I do have some sense of ethics, somewhere. I am, after all, siding with a single woman over the pantheon of immortals that rule with such dimwitted delight from above us all. Why would you risk such a comfy life, for this? For… Destiny. I didn’t take you for the superstitious type, to listen to voices in your head. They are voices in your head, no?”

“I have what I do while living in their scorn, why not strive for more? Just imagine the possibilities for someone such as myself. One keep could become two, then three, four,” A wolfish grin cracked across her maroon face, “You get where I’m going with this. That, and whatever the damned voices have in store. I’d have assumed I was just mad, but the court sorcerer said it was something more. Some sort of communing, perhaps?”

“So, why are you so curious about [/i]me?[/i]”

A moment of silence passes as the Illusionist considers what he just heard. There seems to be a momentary look of disappointment, though it’s banished away quickly enough to be barely noticed. The voice he used to speak over her shoulder ends, as he speaks for himself once more. “I like to know how foolish my compatriots are. I try to guess which ones will die, and which ones will persist. You really think that the Gods care for the politics of the Free Holds? You really think that you will be able to conquer beyond your one, petty hold, without incurring the wrath of all the others? [Noble Tongue] My, you are wild with imagination, are you not?” He seemed to drop the noble tongue simply for its own sake, an exercise of intelligence for its own sake. His eyes wander away from her, and toward the floor. “[Noble Tongue] You are touched, by demons. I’d be wary of listening to the voices of your mind… You never know where they could lead you, or if they are merely using you. And it would be a shame for someone as pretty and ambitious as you to die so quickly.”

“One petty hold that made the others cower in terror, mind you,” Cerise frowned slightly, “Our enemies fear us more than Rheinfeld fears the gods.” She smirked at the compliment, and responded in the noble tongue. “With that in mind, just how grand can your tricks become? Could you make a hundred men look like ten thousand? You might find yourself with a castle to call your own, if someone as pretty and ambitious as myself could enlist your help,” The noble shrugged. “Some of the greatest conquerors in history simply had an imagination.”

“Imagination, and power… And the wisdom to use both, in a way that made the people love them.” James replies, again in the noble tongue. Finally, Cerise would be able to pick up on a bit of a struggle he had speaking in it. Certain words did not seem to come naturally to him, and thus, the pace of his words was off. He goes back to the common tongue as he continues. “The Free Holds will never be conquered by brute force, or by wealth. It would be conquered by the one who could turn them against their own lifestyle… You cannot conquer an empire of slavers. Peasants, certainly, but not slavers--all of whom are obsessed with their own power. An empire is built on a foundation of blood laid by fools and loyalists. That is why, for all its wealth, the Free Holds have never conquered the Amazons, or Rheinfeld… Why they’ve never been united. Power, by itself, is meaningless.” He looks at his own hands, and closes his eyes. He makes a rather convincing illusion of a rose, then, with a momentary burst of magical energy, the illusion becomes real. He hands it to her, and tilts his head back, taking a deep breath in pain. “I know old secrets, I am made of old secrets… Knowledge, and power, and patience… These things are the stuff of Kings and Emperors.”

“Yet you lack a banner to carry and a kingdom to follow you,” Cerise admired the rose in her hand. Completely real. If anyone could accomplish what she wanted, he was at the very least a good start. “I have both, yet harbor no old secrets,” her lack of so-called ‘secrets’ was a lie, whether she realized it or not. “Slavers are little more than greedy peasants if their livestock are taken away, and those livestock would gladly fight to be free.”


Finally, James raises an eyebrow. Not in skepticism or annoyance, but genuine interest. For once, not for what she was, but for what she said. “My, targeting the slaves. There’s an empire of blood for you to build on. Dangerous, but possible… Maybe. If, perhaps, there were a shining beacon of hope somewhere, that illustrated the point of a world without slaves. Heh...” He crosses his arms over his chest, and glances toward the ceiling. Most of it was difficult to see due to the shadows of the room, but the occasional flicker from the nearby brazier illuminated it briefly. “I do not care to have a banner in my name, nor to be a King, or an Emperor. I have only ever cared to use my natural talents to their fullest. I do not want to be ruler over anything, really. I have my own dreams, my own goals. To be a King is a dangerous thing, fraught with much management of people with small visions.” His eyes fall from the ceiling and stare directly into Cerise’s eyes. “I am a man who much prefers to work behind the scenes. If that should so happen to include making a princess or two into Queens, then so be it.” A knowing smirk crosses his face, as he replies to her suggestions in his own way.

“Few are more willing to fight than those wanting free of shackles. Hell, isn't that what we're all doing now, though instead of a man, we're seeing to cast off the yokes of the immortals?” She rolled the stem of the rose between her fingers. “Now, if only I could inspire such hope despite my, er, particular blood.”

“A one thousand year old princess has magically appeared to fight Gods that are now auspiciously too weak to simply destroy her with a glance. Strange times, we live in. Times of great changes. You could inspire such things, if, you chose to lead in a way, that gives others the impression that you are not only capable, but worthy.” James glances at the rose, then toward Beatrice. Beatrice caws and hops up into the air, flying just long enough to land back on James’s shoulder. His eyes, once again, glance toward the rose. “I believe I’ve made it clear that you have my attention. We’ll now see what you do with it. After all, I have not paid much mind to thinking what I will do immediately after the Princess has accomplished her tasks. Assuming, of course, that we all survive.” He chuckles at his own macabre remark, and then goes silent.

“I can assure my own survival, let's hope you can do the same,” Cerise glanced up at the bird, then back to James. She pushed off of the wall and walked away, the rose still in hand.

As she leaves, James watches her every step. He made no attempt to hide his attraction toward her, though made no move on it. Beatrice caws and snaps him back from luridly staring at her figure. He adjusts his collar, and leaves the room soon after Cerise.
 
The young priestess listened to the paths Gregory outlined with keen interest. She knew little of strategy, and of the four was only familiar with the dangers posed by Templar and orcs—what horrors lay in the Abyss she could not imagine. Still, she would make herself heard—any perspective she could offer would surely help the Princess, one way or another.

Faolan chose to watch the proceedings from the edge of the room—knowing that if he had anything to say, she'd say it for him.

Tahlia stepped to the old smoke mage's side before she addressed those gathered. "I, too, would prefer we pass through the countryside. Just in this room alone we are already placing our lives in the trust of strangers—what difference does it make to trust a few more?" She smiled, tentatively, and glanced at the others of her kin. "The people of Rheinfeld are not evil. So long as we keep our intentions to ourselves, I see no reason for us to worry. If we are lucky, we might even come across more who are sympathetic to our cause, though," she notes, nodding towards Hanus, "not as easily as we would find them in Liveria."
 
Cináed was amongst the first to arrive in the hall, having risen bright and early in anticipation of their preparations. The young Renaltan listened as the Princess' allies laid out their potential plans with a thoughtful frown, doing what he could to weigh each option for its relative benefits and flaws. He was no tactician however, nor an experienced traveller, and so he had little more than the explanations and arguments given by the others from which to make his decision - that and what stories he'd heard of each place, of course.

Rin drifted in not long after, having risen early and visited the library again before heading to the meeting. The summoner frowned throughout the explanations, biting his lip. None of the options were particularly appealing, especially given his reliance on magic to be even remotely useful.

When the Princess asked for their opinions, he held his silence for a few moments more before speaking, wanting to be sure of himself in his opinion... as well as hear the opinions of some of his companions "I also favour the route through the Rheinfeld countryside. I trust the Rangers' judgement of character on their contacts, and I agree with Tahlia - the people of the villages might be persuaded to help us, rather than hinder us, given the right approach - and maybe a white lie or two. It's not great that us mages won't be able to act freely, but hopefully we won't need to, if we play our cards right."

Rin spoke his piece next, raising his voice only just loud enough to be heard. "I- I think we should take the mountains. If I can't use my summons, I'm of no use to you all. They require too much magic to sustain for me to keep them out within Rheinfeld. They'd be like beacons." He grimaced as he spoke, looking down. "Or else, if we do cut through Rheinfeld, I w-would prefer to go through the capital. We may as well wholly hide our presences and take the 'safer' option if we're going there at all, right? Our spellcasters will be all-but useless either way, so better we're in a place we shouldn't need to use it to defend ourselves, and can just stay unnoticed, than we risk being backstabbed or attacked by bandits..."
 
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Rheanna - Wanderer's Wisdom​

Rheanna listened to the exchanges of the various and the various plans and found herself very quickly out of her element. So much talk of running and fleeing and hiding and sneaking. She was not so used to being the prey, and her expertise as a hunter did not translate into this. She held her axe, and she stroked her chin, and she mused about what would be best with little or no actual idea what would be best. After a while, she made an exaggerated, exasperated huff. “No matter where we go, people will ask questions. We are not a group that will blend in.” She glanced over at Mikan, and at James. “No disrespect Mikan: but they will take one look at me, or the Orc, or the Corpse-man, and they will want to search us and detain us. We should avoid the city, I don’t care what alternate path we take though.” She leaned her chin on her axe as she contemplated further what they should do.
 
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