We the Unwanted We the Unwanted

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Adran Triveron (Impregnable Fortress, Geraldis)

He'd been feeling nervous ever since the fortress had reentered their line of sight. He was delighted to be home again, away from all that political mess, but he had a million questions on his mind. How would he explain the deal he'd made with the king, how would he be sure Claius understood his mistrust of the man, and most importantly, how would he be able to tell his commander that his best friend isn't coming home? The Guardians had applauded their safe return as they entered the gates, but quickly quieted down upon realizing that only three of the original eight had returned. He could only meet their eyes with a sorrowful gaze.

He saw Donovan move into the crowd and decided to leave him be. The man should grieve in his own way. He asked Isolde and Esra to be present at the debriefing since he needed Esra to confirm that Illya had in fact perished and he needed to discuss Isolde's actions with the both of them. As the trio was led into the seating room, Adran took a seat at the round table, hands reassembling into his signature contemplation stance. As Claius, Adran's good friend entered, the doctor could only meet his gaze with one of guilt. "Claius. We have much to discuss..."
 
Esra T. Montaque
( Impregnable Fortress, Geraldis )

"I'll be by your side... Adran." She truly did not want to be though, she wanted to just run to her home and curl up into the bed, part of her, the optimistic part, did hold hope that what she saw happen to her now deceased comrades was not true.

'Is there a way for ten to have lived...?' A hope began to build but it was quickly crushed again.

'Even if there was a way... They would have had help from those zealots, would most likely be prisoners, and tortured... Starved... Downgraded...'

Esra meant to just knock herself out of her thoughts by punching herself, it let out a tiny and inaudible squeak of alarm at it. Oh well, it got her thoughts cleared a little.

"After this though... Expect me to be with my father, I'm sure he was worried..." 'With reason, too....'
 
Isolde Bennett (Impregnable Fortress, Geraldis)

Isolde did not expect to return to the fortress within two days but there she was, walking through the gates with Donovan, Esra, and Adran. As the four them passed through, the woman happened to catch a glance at the men she had lied to get through their gates. The men gave her a questionable eye but when they realized that their party was missing people, their faces turned white. The Guardians had welcomed them back into the fortress, the silence was deafening as they quietly made their way to through the crowd. Isolde did not acknowledge Donovan breaking off of the group, she understood why and carried forth.

Isolde did not argue Adran's request for her to accompany him and Esra to the seating room. She assumed the reasoning behind it was due to her actions and leaving against Claius's will, however, given the circumstances it would no longer matter. The three of them walked into the seating room and stood before Claius, it was the Adran to speak first and Isolde would remain quiet until addressed.
 
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Claius Vondale (Impregnable Fortress, Geraldis)
"How did it go?" Claius asked. The duration of their leave most likely meant good results, and Claius was anxious see if his decision was worth it.

"Negotiations went well, though I don't trust the king to hold to our agreement. The trip back however..." Adran pondered for a moment, "was a complete disaster."

Claius raised an eyebrow. "How come?" He added jokingly, "too much lettuce?" Illya had complained to him about it right before they left, and said eating it would be 'without a doubt the worst part of the trip'. He knew that many of the others probably shared her opinion on the green plant.

Adran didn't smile. "No Claius..." he said uncertainly, "we were attacked. Ambushed by the Northwind Zealots." Claius mused at this. The zealots were less active during the winter, but now that spring was budding they must have become a lot more active again. Typically, they never posed as anything more than a nuisance.

"The Zealots. Well, I'm glad you all made it then. Was beginning to worry for you guys, Isolde was too. Well, I haven't seen you and Illya for a really long time, and we were a little off guard of your arrival, so I'm sorry we didn't do a bigger welcome back..." Claius recalled that they did take longer than planned to make it back. It must've been something the zealots had done to seriously stall them. "I'm guessing you lost the horses and the wagon though?"

Something was off. Adran seemed to be more uncomfortable with every word he spoke. When Claius finished, he replied, "we lost more than that. There were eighty or more of them, we had no hope of fighting them all off, we split up... some of us didn't make it." The last part brought tears to Adran's eyes, and Claius's filled with sorrow.

"Some of us... didn't make it?" Claius hushed. He hadn't expected anyone to be in danger, considering the capability of people selected for the task. "Coming to think of it, Gregorson's party looked smaller." Yes, Lee was definitely missing. "I shouldn't had sent such inexperienced men on a dangerous mission like that." Claius sighed. They were still just kids, too soon exposed to the brutality of war.

"Clay.... I'm so sorry. Illya's... Illya's gone."

Claius's heart sank. "Gone." He echoed.

"She died trying to lure a majority of the zealots away from us." Adran continued. It wasn't a joke? Claius said. It has to be a joke.

But that was exactly what Illya would've done.

He tried to speak, but he couldn't work up the strength to open his mouth. The room went silent. Awkwardly, Adran said "Claius, I know she was a dear friend, but... I want you to know she fought valiantly, right until the bitter end."

Of course she did.

"Is... Is there anything I can do?" Adran asked desperately. It was unusual for Claius to be at a loss of words, even during hardships.

"You..." Claius choked quietly "you may leave."

"Yes sir. We'll discuss the negotiations when you're ready." Adran beckoned Isolde and Esra to follow him out of the room. Claius sat there in disbelief.

"What's wrong?"

Claius looked up to see a young girl, around his age, standing over him as he sulked in his seat. He had seen her before-- she was the one who's parents had died of disease.

"My father wouldn't train with me." He pouted bitterly. "I'm supposed to start my classes tomorrow."

She looked over him carefully. "Well, your father is a busy man. He runs the fortress." She smiled mischievously "How about you train with me?"

He shook his head. "I don't want to hurt you."

She raised an eyebrow. "Why? Because I'm a girl?"

Claius shook his head in alarm. "No, no! It's just..." He scratched the back of his neck. "I'm really strong. I don't want to hurt you." She laughed and offered him her hand.

"Get up then. Show me how strong you are." She challenged. He grasped it firmly.

"Alright, don't say I didn't warn you." He pulled out his training rod, and she merely crouched in her place. He adjusted his grip and charged.

Claius was surprised by her speed. She easily sidestepped his jab, smoothly striking his chest with the palm of her hand, which made him topple to the ground. He looked up at her, bewildered.

"Pretty strong." She jeered. "Come on, get up, let's try again."

Claius smiled. She was a worthy opponent.

Illya had trained and spent her time with him growing up, and she was Claius's best friend. He remembered when they both were together during their promotion, when Claius became a General and Illya, Major General.

The private training. The hunting parties. The playful conversations...

Clay.... I'm so sorry. Illya's... Illya's gone.

Claius roared in rage and threw the table over, which crashed on the floor, casting the dust up. He smashed it into halves with his feet, and then into fourths, and eights.

Illya is gone.

He covered his face with his hands and sat there, unsure what to do.
 
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Donovan Blackmoore (Impenetrable Fortress, Geraldis)

Donovan pushed the door open to the little house he'd called home for many years now. Pulling at the straps on his armor he dropped the breastplate to the ground. The older man was sitting near the fire. He was too old to do much more than whittling anymore. He mainly provided training weapons for the children and toys. "Donovan?" Setting the whittling aside he got up from his chair and turned to face the young man. "Did you get to see the king?"

"Aye." Nodding he answered the older man. "There was no time for...."

The older man shook his head. "I don't need the herbs. Let me die in my own time. They have different herbs that might help but, I would rather die naturally than live beyond purpose." Still it appeared that the man was troubled. "Wouldn't the king listen to Adran?"

Taking a deep breath Donovan met the old man's gaze. "Aye the king seemed friendly enough. We were ambushed on the way back. Illya is dead. Two Gregorson brothers...The Zealots have never been able...I don't know what to think of it." There was no proof of the Zealots having information and yet it seemed that they were far better prepared than usual. "I ran with Adran. He needed to bring word back to the fortress. Illya told me to run. I followed orders and I brought the doctor back. If he hadn't been the only one to speak with the king on the final day I wouldn't have bothered."

"I see." Rubbing his chin the older man meandered back over to his seat and perched on it. "You obeyed the orders given as any soldier should. Meeting the objective is most important." There wasn't really anything that could make the man feel better and he knew that. "Will you light a candle for her at the alter of the fallen?"

Donovan listened to his adopted father. It was the same thing he'd told himself over and over. Meeting the objective is the most important. "Aye...I'll wash up and light a candle for her at the alter." The little man dipped his fingers in the water bucket and washed the dirt off his face and from behind his ears. Grabbing a candle he lit it and sprinkled some sweet herbs in the puddle of wax that started to form. Guarding the flame with one hand he pushed the door open and walked toward the alter. Already a few others had heard and put out candles for one of the fallen. Donovan placed his on the alter and stepped back. Watching the flame for several minutes he then lowered his gaze. "May your spirit wander freely. May the sun rise above your head and moon rest at your feet. May you find favor with the gods do not mourn for those of us remaining. May we meet one day again." Finishing the prayer he raised his head and then started on a short walk about the fortress.

Cool air nipped at his face and hair. Donovan slowly walked up the steps to look out over the hills. Many of the gulley's still had ice and the moaning of the wind rose eerily from the depths of the earth. Each night it was as if the land gave up the dead of centuries past. Glancing to the side he saw a man light a torch. A familiar crackle now filled his ears and he walked back down the steps.

One of his favorite campfires had a pot of stew to eat. It was the usual cabbage and potato with slivers of carrot. Quietly taking a bowl he took a seat and watched as a few figures of others from the journey passed by.
 
Esra T. Montaque
( Impregnable Fortress, Geraldis )

Esra was about to leave the room as they began to recount Illya. Sure, they did not talk much before this but... She is the one who gave Esra a chance for this adventure, she helped keep the group together... She did so much....

The mace... I can still see it.

The sound of the bones and skin being crushed, torn. I can still hear it.

The smell of rust, blood. I can still smell it...

Illya. The brothers...

Those zealots will pay.

Her hand, it had grabbed a hold of the bow she gave Esra...

Thank you....

As she sat there, lost in her pity, her sorrow, and her grief... It took a moment for the blonde to notice the motion to leave. But, all the same, she stood up and slowly followed after Adran.

She wanted to speak, to do anything. She had been starved moments before and now she felt bile in her throat and a pounding in her head and chest.

Her form followed a bit longer before splitting off at the sight of her father, running to him.

"Esra...! I... I heard that the group looked smaller and... I immediately... But you... You are here..." His arms went tightly around the female, and her arms around him.

"I... I'm fine... I'm sorry I worried you father..." She knew what he meant, all of it. Esra only had him and he only had her, the rest of there family... They were gone. Deceased in other words. If he lost her, he lost everything... She gave his cheek a quick kiss before stepping away and excusing herself. She wanted to go inside her home, but did not. Instead, she turned and retraced steps to where Donovan was.

Esra sat by the fire without a word, eyes staring at the sky blanky.
 
Isolde Bennett (Impregnable Fortress, Geraldis)

Isolde stayed silent as Adran conveyed the news to Claius of their journey to Helies. In the beginning. Claius had kept his composure but at the news of Illya.. he clammed up and asked for the three of them to leave. Illya... the woman thought to herself as the exited the seating area. Not only was she Claius's dear friend, she was important to everyone in the fortress. She was a Guardian. She was family. Now.. now she was gone.

As the three of them left the seating room Isolde was the first to break off, as her quarters were nearby. "I'll see you two later. Adran, if you need me for something let me know."

Isolde opened the door to her empty room, she had packed most of her things before leaving to the find the others. The only thing remaining was her heavy armor sitting in the corner of the room. She solemnly walked toward it and put her halberd down beside it. She stared at her equipment in the corner, recounting teachings told to her by her parents. Isolde, in war, people die. You cannot stop it and you cannot save everyone. All you can do is prepare for it; Isolde, you are a Guardian. A warrior. You must be strong and face death in the eye. A fragile warrior is a useless warrior. Stay strong in the face of adversity, my child...

The woman walked out of the building and headed toward the altar of the fallen. As she approached the altar, Donovan was leaving in the opposite direction. He wouldn't see her and Isolde did not quicken her pace to catch up to him. Isolde quietly knelt down at the foot of the shrine, the candle light tinting her face a warm yellowish hue. She reached her candle out, borrowing the flame of another to light hers. As the wick caught fire her eyes began to swell, May we meet again. Isolde stood, turned, and walked away.

Nightfall at the fortress was always cold, most did not leave their homes without sufficient clothing to shield them from the piercing air. For some reason, Isolde did not feel the cold on this particular night, or at least she was ignoring it. A scent of campfire blessed her nose and her stomach growled. She hadn't eaten yet and was now headed toward the smell. When she approached the campfire she found both Donovan and Esra there, sitting in silence. Isolde joined them and stared silently for a few moments, "now what?" she murmured to herself.
 
Adran Triveron (Impregnable Fortress, Geraldis)

He barely even registered Isolde's parting statement as the three left the meeting room. He didn't even notice Esra leave to go see her father. All Adran could do at that moment was walk, he walked past everyone of his comrades in silence and with his head hung low, until he reached the training grounds. He walked up to one of the practice dummies, inspected it to make sure that it was in good condition, then drew his rapier.

He felt weak, like a burden. When the ambush hit, he knew that all of his comrade's first instincts were to protect him. It was because of him that Illya stayed behind to draw away the Zealots. It was because of him Illya was dead. With a roar of anguish he thrust at the dummy. It was a direct hit, striking the jugular, had this dummy been a zealot, their lungs would've been filling up with blood. No more. Adran thought to himself as he thrust again, another direct hit, this time to the heart. Not one in my family will be hurt by my incompetence ever again! He thrust again, and again hitting every vital point with pinpoint precision in a flurry of rage and pain, until finally he dropped to his knees, exhausted.

He stayed there only a minute longer to catch his breath before picking himself up and moving towards the alter of the fallen. He noticed Donovan, Esra and Isolde huddled by the fire as he past. The alter was empty when he arrived, he must be the last one, aside from maybe Claius, to pay his respects. He knelt before the alter and wept. "I'm sorry." He said to the air. "This was my plan, my responsibility. It's my fault you're gone... I failed you." He stayed there sobbing as time passed around him. Finally he stood up. "I pray you've found peace in the next life. I promise I wont fail our family again." He left the alter and returned to his room. Locking the door behind him, he fell onto the bed, alone with his sorrow.
 
[Illya Lott] Rufus Andelorn (Andaris, Geraldis)
Illya woke up in a white room with light beaming down above her, piercing her eyes. The breeze was nice and the bed and sheet was soothing to her skin. Heaven? She tried to sit up, and a painful sting exploded her side and she choked for breath.

No. I'm still alive.

Somehow.

She raised her shirt to see that the wound where the javelin pierced was now neatly wrapped inside cloth. Was it Adran?

The room was quite familiar, but Illya couldn't wrap her mind around what it was. The blood loss and headache made her sway dangerously as she gingerly got out of the bed. This wasn't the fortress for sure. Pushing the door open, she fell back, alarmed, at the figure of Rufus Andelorn. As she did, the wound sent another searing jolt down her side. He was sitting in his chair, and seemingly just woke up after the door clicked.

He looked up, worried. "Ah! Illya!" He said, quickly rising to his feet. "You should be resting right now." He walked to her side and helped her up and guided her back to the bed. "You had me worried there. When my troops saw the attack we were appalled. It violated our treaty, and I'm disgusted by the actions my citizens took."

She flinched. The ambush. Grasping his arm tightly, she asked breathlessly, "are they okay? The others?"

He smiled. "Please, worry about yourself. We identified only two Guardians in the group that had fell on the battlefield. Unfortunately," he looked away, "they didn't make it."

"Gregorson..." She said softly.

"They were tough young lads." The king said soothingly. "We found one of them barely alive, along with you. We had to put him out of his misery.

She slumped back into the pillow. "I'm glad." Rufus snapped his fingers.

"That's right, the Guardians had a talk with my men after the ambush. It appears that we should fortify the defenses around the fortress so things like this won't happen again. I'm also going to force the zealots to disband, with the royal forces, if I must." He sighed. "The thing I'm wondering about is where is a good place to set up towers and whatnot. I contacted the Rollos about it, and they said it would most pragmatically be located where the fortress is weakest, I'm sure you understand?"

Illya nodded. There was a sewage system leading from inside the fortress down to the mountain. Where it came out of was a blind spot from the other towers. They could tell when enemies were there, but it did not provide a clear line of sight for tower archers to fire down upon. Claius had mentioned fortifying it, but it always was postponed due to the difficulty on building on the terrain. The Rollos where expert architects, which made them appealing for the job.

But something greatly bothered Illya about the king. It was what Adran had said. To not trust him. She asked, "you met with the envoy?" He nodded.

"Yes. We drove off the zealots with them."

She frowned. "And they didn't tell you the answers to your questions?"

"Well," the king said, "we had to get you medical care as soon as possible, so we hurried here."

"But we were closer to the fortress," she said. She almost felt like she was just pouting. "Why didn't you leave me with Adran?"

"Lord Triveron?" Rufus asked. "Ah, he thought it would be better if the Kingdom did it. Our resources are much more plentiful, and he was going to be busy back at the fortress."

Illya smiled. "Why are you lying to me?"

The king raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Excuse me?"

"Why are you lying to me?" She repeated. "All that time discussing terms with Adran and you have no idea what he is like?"

Rufus sighed. "I'm disappointed in you Illya. You're smart, but too foolish for your own good. Very well, come in Ronald."

Illya's eyes widened as the lumbering brute, now wearing the crest of the King's Guard, entered. He was cradling his injured left arm, but a wicked smile was spread across his face.

"You..." Illya growled. She lashed out at Rufus, but the pain of her side prevented her from carrying through. Rufus tsked and forcefully pushed her shoulders down.

"No no, sweet girl. Don't strain yourself. I'm just introducing you to a new friend, but I believe you two are already acquainted." He got up. "Well, that cuts formalities. But don't worry, he's going to stay with you for a very long time. Shall we get started?"

He walked to the door, and pat the brute on the shoulder. "How are we, big boy? Get her to talk, and if she doesn't, just kill her. Don't be afraid to use whatever. It's going to be a long day. Her limbs..." He looked at her, and Illya clenched her fists together. "Disposable."

Ronald's grin grew ever so wide as Rufus left the room, shutting the door behind him.
 
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Richard Kingsman, Ronald, Illya (Royal Dungeon, Helies)

Richard steps into the room after Ronny. He walked over to the wardrobe and opened it up to reveal an array of tools. Peering under his brow at the woman he then walked over to the side of her bed. "Now before we start it's only fair to introduce myself. You're Illya an officer of the Guardians. As a peer I greatly admire your skill as a warrior. I am Richard.

The woman looked him over with a cool expression in her eyes. "I'm assuming I don't need to introduce myself?"

Soon enough that expression would leave. "No you don't need an introduction." Richard sighs. "Typically I would subject a woman of your beauty to other methods of obtaining information. For now I'll settle with considering you an equal. Perhaps later for the alternatives." Motions to Ronny. "Now remember we'll need to be gentle to start. She is in fragile condition."

Watching with some amusement he noticed that her attentive nature would soak in every detail. She was like most warriors. Keen on her surroundings. Soon she would wish that her mind was dulled but, he would not allow for that. Richard wanted her mind to comprehend every little step.

Ronald glares at Illya, a mix of rage and pain, before slowly walking to the side of Illya. He simply stands there, and breathes heavily in her ear.

Despite his beastly companion the woman was still maintaining her composure. "How knightly, are you now? Don't kill the woman too fast"

"Don't be mistaking rank with duty. I would think that a Guardian would understand this." Irritably Richard gave his retort and turned toward the small wardrobe and the wall beside it. Pulling a shame mask from the wall he hands it to Ronny. "Put that on her."

Ronald grins and chuckles as he straps the mask on her. Afterwards, he jabs Illya in the side, where the javelin struck her.

"Leave her side alone for now." Richard glances behind himself before he sits back and waits for the woman to start gurgling. "We'll wait a bit longer now." Finally leaning forward in the chair he notices a slight struggle from her. "Now if you please Ronald." Richard points to the boot. He wanted to keep the mask on for a short time more. They needed her to want to talk.

"Ooo! Mah favorite!" Ronald giddily grabs the boot, and forcefully puts the metal cage on Illya's foot. He then quickly began to screw the bit until the sharp edge of the metal dug into her flesh.

Richard watches the woman with an unwavering expression. "Take your time. We've got all day and more." Finally he nodded to the brute. "Just let it soak in and then I'll let you pick from the tools." Ronny needed some fun and mystery to add to the mix. In the meantime Richard watched her carefully. Illya’s chest was raising and falling rapidly. A good indication that despite her haughty attitude she could feel the pain.

While he was busy observing the woman’s facial expressions the female was suddenly snatched up. Following the beast he kept into the dark corridor he would occasionally glance down to be sure he wasn’t going to step into a nasty mess. This part of the castle smelled of rot and filth. At last they reached a door and he carefully stepped in and closed the door behind himself and the other two. Her body was roughly jostled as it hit the rack and Ronald began putting the cuffs on her hands and feet. Removing the mask Richard peers down into the woman's eyes. "Have you anything to say?

"Try harder." A defiant response almost came out as a gasp and yet it seemed she spat at the same time.

"Very well." Richard puts the mask back on and nods to Ronald. "Proceed."

After Ron finished cuffing her, Ronald began turning the wheel. 1 turn. 2 turns. 3... 4... 5..."Wait there." Richard could see the woman's body was strained. It wasn't time to tear the ligaments from her bones just yet. Removing the helmet he questions again. "Do you wish to speak?"

"It hurts, if that was all you were trying to accomplish. Want to kill me yet?"

A smile spread across his face. He could almost sense her ready to break. "No I'm far from done. Yet you already beg for death." Gradually his grin faded away as he watched the brute punch her in the face. Exasperated with the lack of sophistication that Ronald displayed, Richard signaled for the cranking to continue. This time he left the mask off just in case she would cry out.

Once more the brute couldn’t seem to control himself and he lost the finer detail of how torture worked. "Fuck the Rack!" Ronald goes off to grab the knife, and begins marching towards her feet, to pry off the toe nails.

Richard leans in close to the woman. He could yet make the most out of this. "I can make this last for days sometimes weeks. Just something as small as pointing to an area that could be used to infiltrate the fortress on my drawing here." Pulling a picture from his pocket he held it near her hand. “This could all end in a few hours or even minutes. You don’t even have to speak. Just point.”

Even though her hands shook with the strain from her muscles and ligaments she refused to even do so much as point to a single portion of the image. "I get to live longer if I don't? Sounds like a plan."

"Very well." She was a hard woman and Richard wasn’t so sure he would get information from her today. Perhaps when the torture lasted longer than she thought she had life it would make a difference. “Illya it makes no difference. They will all die anyway and you will languish here in prison.”

His oaf of a companion couldn’t seem to stand any kind of talk from the woman and took a knife from his belt. "Shut up, you!" Ronald begins to carve into Illya's wounded side

Richard puts a hand on Ronald's wrist. "No she's going to live for a very long time." He was obviously going to have to end the session for today. The woman was near passing out and Ronald was quickly succumbing to his bloodlust.

Ronald looks at Richard. "Can I play with her?" His dumb face almost seemed to light up with the prospect. If it wasn’t for the fact that many feared this walking imbecile Richard would have seen him killed long ago. As it was there was still some use for him.

“No. We will leave her here. I have a warden that will take special charge of her. In the meantime it is best to let her rest for just a while.” Loosening the crank he let her relax, for now. One day he expected she would break. A person could live with torture only so long. The warden and himself had mastered the art so as not to kill their victims in a manner of haste.
 
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[Rufus Andelorn] Horus Flicke (Andaris, Helies)
Rufus stroked his beard. He had been discussing war with Horus for the entirety of the morning. Littered on his table was logs and documents relating to the great war against Eruvia and Campaign of Expulsion. There was little that they found to be of use; the Guardians had a major size advantage against the Eruvians, which was the opposite in the forthcoming attack that Rufus has planned. The Guardians had superior soldiers, and an more advantageous location. The fortress was mounted on in the mountains which made attacking from two of its fronts impossible. The other walls were heavily fortified, but the captive was not giving an inch to provide information to them.

Rufus definitely had underestimated Illya. He probably wouldn't see that much loyalty in any of his men-- perhaps Horus. But more importantly, he had overlooked her once she visited the fortress. One female wiped out half of the Zealots. It was quite astonishing. She had his respect, but nevertheless she was the enemy. He sighed.

"Horus, how is the prisoner doing?"

"She's stronger than we thought. We'll make her break." Horus replied confidently. Rufus scoffed.

"You don't know the Guardians do you?" He paused. "We need the manpower on other matters." Illya could've be a valuable bargaining chip, but Rufus was troubled that she would pose a significant danger alive. The hostage card was one without definite results-- risks that Rufus was not quite willing to take. Besides, there were better uses for her. "I believe it's time to test our men's loyalty."

Horus raised his eyebrows. "You don't trust my men?" It was less of anger and more of... hurt? Rufus couldn't place the expression well when it came from a brusque man like Horus. He smiled warmly and slapped the commander on his shoulder.

"I put faith in your men to protect and serve. I'm just worried about select King's Guard who could possibly be spies. Please, dear Horus, humor me."

Horus nodded dutifully. "The suspect?"

"Officer Biggs." Horus looked surprised at this. True, his combat skills are excellent, but Rufus saw him getting a bit too personal with Triveron. Becoming too attached with a Guardian, especially one seasoned in the field of politics, could lead into clash between loyalty and emotions. Rufus wanted to steer clear of that. "Shade is to be the executioner of the female Guardian."

"Of course, Your Highness. Anything else?"

"Ah, yes. Check with the Rollos to see if they have progressed on the project we have assigned them. I'm looking forward to see if their theory of a wall crushing device can actually be put to the task. Make sure the armies are assembled and armed by a fortnight."

Rufus pondered for a moment.

"I'm going to write our new friends a letter."
 
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Rajiana Pendragon (Capital Armory, Helies)

Rajiana sits on his bed when they get back to the dorms. He gestured Andrin to continue without him to the training, and watched him leave. There was a strange feeling crawling under his skin he didn't understand. He had never missed his mother much in years, it made him feel homesick. Leaning against the wall, he takes deep breaths. He felt physically ill as well, nausea and a headache crept up on him. With the stress and irritability he pinned up, it had its toll. Opening the satchel on his bed, he read through old letters once again. His mothers voice rang in his ears, while his fathers voice was only a faint whisper. He closed the second letter, and decided it was enough.

Putting the letters in the satchel, he changes into his light armor. As he binds his buckler to his forearm, he looks at the satchel once more before leaving. "Farewell... Venatrisse." He says, walking out the door of the dorm. Wiping the thoughts from his head, he braces his stomach for training.
 
Shade Bigge (Royal Palace/Dungeon, Helies) (Its long but its worth it! Promise!)

Shade was in the process of polishing her armor when Horus approached her. “Shade Bigges! Come with me." He turned around and began down the hallway fully expecting her to follow.
Shade stood and followed Horus obediently. "Yes, Sir?"
"The king has an honorary task for you." Horus says, leading her to the dungeons. "The king wishes for you to kill a dangerous prisoner of ours. Be wary; even incapacitated they are still dangerous."
Shade's stoic expression took on a confused look. Why did the King wish her, a mere Captain to kill a prisoner? "Who have we captured?"
"A war prisoner. She engaged with our forces that were returning back at home." Horus took her to an occupied cell. “This is Guardian Major General Illya Lott."
Shade paused before the woman, force-ably controlling her expression to show no emotion. She nearly gagged from the wounds of torture that marred the woman’s body. "The Guardians were successful in the peace treaty with the king. Why then would she attack our troops?" She questioned.

"The causes were unclear to the our men. The fact is that the treaty has been violated." Horus replied simply.
Shade's forehead furrowed slightly while observing the extensive torture wounds. "What has she said?"
"Absolutely nothing."
Nothing? All this and she’s said nothing? "And the king has ordered me to execute her? Are we certain the treaty was violated by them and not by King's Guard unaware of the treaty?"
"We don't question the order. I just carry them out. Get the job done, and then report back to me." Horus orders then left, closing the cell door behind him.

Shade approached Illya cautiously, a hand on her dagger. "If you want to try some more torture, the boot is still in perfect condition." Illya sneers at her, spitting blood at her feet.
"I am not here to torture you." Shade's grip on her dagger tightens. "Why did guardians break the peace treaty? What do you have to gain?" She demanded.
Illya laughed bitterly, then coughed from the pain. "What have we to gain by breaking a treaty? I honestly can't tell you, because I don't know why either. Open your eyes. The king attacked us."

Shade drew her dagger aiming it at the woman's heart, advancing. "Lies! The King would not be so dishonorable to disregard a treaty made in peace." She growls at her. "I would've thought your negotiator to be smarter than this, or perhaps it was you and the other savages in your party to try and take advantage of our King's goodwill.”

"Believe what you want.” Illya huffed. “I’m not going to be around to preach to you that you have been misled you entire life into idolizing your Monarchs."
Shade's dagger pressed against the woman's chest, drawing blood. "Do you have any last words, Traitor?"
"Tell me, do you know of a man they call 'Ronald'?"
"What of him?"
"Next time you see him, pay attention to his arm. I did that. Now we must wonder what a Helies guard was doing so far in Whitewood."
Shade took a mental step back and Illya continued. "Think about it, and maybe if you realized the truth, you'd gut the sick brute the next time you see him."

Shade’s eyes widened slightly. If that was true then that meant there was a traitor among the King's guards, trying to foil the King's Treaty. She raised sheathed her dagger and took a step back. "If you are lying, I will end you, painfully." She growls.
Shade unlocks the dungeon door, leaves and searches out Ronald. She found the brute snoring away in his bunk. Quietly, carefully, she pulled up his sleeve. Just as Illya had said...knife wounds. This was bad. She backed away, and rushed to find Horus. He had to know what she’d just discovered.

"Sir. I have reason to believe Ronald is a traitor. I have strong proof that he attacked the guardians unprovoked to try and destroy the King's Peace treaty with them." She declared upon finding him.
"Ronald is under Richard's watchful eye.” Horus retorts. “It's impossible that he could be a traitor."
"Then why was he clear in Whitewood engaging the guardians in battle the night of their return home? He has wounds on his arm, proof that he fought the guardian you hold in that cell. If Richard is aware of this..." She let the insinuation sit without saying the words.
Horus's eyes narrow at her. "Are you, then, questioning the King's demands? He didn't call for an investigation. He assigned you a simple job and expects you to carry it out. The King would start an investigation if he didn't know the situation himself."

"Sir, if there is a traitor among us, then surely the King would want to know. If he were aware of Ronald's actions in Whitewood, surely he would be attempting to mend the situation with the Guardians and not executing one of their party, who is innocent in this case."
"I don't know what the situation was. The King informed me that the Guardians had turned on and assaulted us. Surely he would have figured out if the fault was ours or not?"
"Perhaps Ronald has deceived him." Standing at attention and with the utmost respect Shade said, "Please allow me to present the information I have discovered to the King before we start a war with the Guardians over a probable traitor."
"Soldier, I have to ask you to step down. I know that the king always has his reasons, and it's not our job to question him. Have faith that he has the kingdom's best interest at heart.

"Sir, if he is missing critical information to make an accurate judgement it is our duty to inform him." She insist, respectfully. "I cannot in good conscious kill an innocent woman."
"That women attacked and killed our men! Not just Ronald...and in cold blood! Have you spoken with her?"
"I have. That is how I know Ronald was there that night. Why would the King's Guard be among them if they left in peace and refused escort."
"Have you heard the way they whisper about the king behind his back?" Horus retorts.
"I have spoken with the negotiator, and know that they desire peace more than we did and showed considerable effort in respecting our traditions. Regardless of how they whisper, a treaty was formed...and they left without provocation or escort. If a number of our King's Guard truly were with Ronald and were killed then I again question what they were doing there in the first place if not provoking the guardians."

Horus sighed inwardly. "If you want to know what happened, ask the king about it. I just received the order that she was to be executed."
"Then please get me an audience with him that we may resolve this situation."
"Very well." Horus gestured for her to follow, and he took her to King’s throne. Upon entering, Horus announced her. “Your majesty, Captain Biggs is seeking counsel with you."

Shade kneels before the King. "Your Majesty. I believe we have a traitor in a our midst. It seems that despite your agreement to a peace Treaty with the guardians and their peaceful exit from the city without an escort, a number of King's Guardsmen, along with Ronald engaged in combat with the guardians in White-wood. The proof of the combat is on Ronald's arms and according to Commander Horus a number of King's Guard were also killed. I fear there is a conspiracy to undermine you, my King, and ask that you investigate this situation further before ordering the execution of the prisoner."
"Ronald? There must be a misunderstanding. He was sent to help the King's Guard in Geraldis move to Helies. A man of his size, he was the obvious choice. On the way back, as I was informed, it appears the Guardians started a skirmish between the men. They had no choice but to engage."
"Forgive my skepticism, my King. But why would the guardians come here for negotiations, go to the effort of making a treaty simply to break it by attacking the King's Guard. They have nothing to gain and everything to lose. Is there a possibility that Ronald has lied to you, my King, in order to undermine your authority and destroy the treaty that has been set?"
"An entire squad betraying the crown?" Rufus glanced at Horus disapprovingly. "If that is what you think your comrades would do, I'd have to examine the possibility, along with establish the bounds permitted for the King's Guard. Although, I have to give my men the benefit of doubt and, for this issue, my decision is final." His voice was cool and even. "If you feel uncomfortable with performing the execution, we certainly can arrange something." Rufus glanced briefly at Horus who stood behind her.

Shade continues, her head still bowed. "If she is innocent, My Lord, and we execute her...you could be breaking your own treaty and starting a war with the guardians." A shiver goes down her spine. Out of the corner of her eye she sees how close Horus' shadow had gotten. Illya's words ring through her mind. "Open your eyes. The king attacked us." Her eyes fix on the shadow, her heart rate suddenly increasing. What if....

"I highly suspect that the attack was not an accident. I had provided them with a seal the day they left, so they obviously attacked our men with the intentions of doing so.” He looks down at her, speaking casually. “You know, my father told me a story when I was younger...It was of a fox that stole the lion's meat, but then accused his peers to be the thief. The lion fell victim to the fox's intelligence, and ended up punishing the wrong animals. Each day, another one of the lion's meats would vanish, and he would again ask the fox who had done it, until the fox was the only one left.” His voice takes on a subtle venom. “I hope a fox isn't trying to play with me right now."

She starts, and looks up at him, his sly smile masking his true face. The hint was loud and clear. If she said anymore he would consider her a threat and would deal with her accordingly. Why would he say such a thing, unless...he truly had something to hide. Her heart drops into her stomach. The real traitor…was the king.
She bows her head. "If this is your decision, my King, then I obey. Thankyou for taking the time to speak with me."
"Very well then.” Rufus seems to relax. “I hope that clarifies matters."

"It does, my King." She stood and Horus escorted her back to the cell, where she was once again left alone with Illya. Shade stares at her, conflicted. "Why were they torturing you?"
"Why would you think?" Illya responds spitefully.
"I think the King ordered the ambush on your convoy and he intends to take your Impregnable Fortress by force. In which case, he would have likely had you tortured you for information of the layout. Is that correct?"
Illya smiles at her sadly. "Took you a while. Well, what if it?"
"If I release you, I will be killed. If I kill you...I will slay an innocent and my hands would be forever stained with your blood." Her stoic expression completely fell away, tortured now by the choice she had to make.
Illya laughed weakly. "I don't mind. It'd probably be worse if it was someone else."

Shade drew her dagger and stood before her in sympathy. "Woman to woman, you are the bravest I have met in all my years as a soldier." She took a breath, raising the dagger to her throat. "Perchance, if I’m able to get to the Guardians, is there a message you'd like me to pass on?"
"Hold on. Give me your dagger."
Shade did as she requested and Illya cut off the sleeve of her own shirt. "I can trust you right?"
Shade nods. "On my life..."
Illya handed her back the dagger and wrote the letter “i” in an ornate fashion in her own blood on the cloth.
"You take this. If you can get to the Guardians in time…tell them, the king is not to be trusted. I'm sorry you have the burden to do this. Treat it as a mercy killing, will you?"
"I promise to do what I can to pass the message." She pressed the dagger against Illya's jugular vein. "Go in peace and gods be with you." She closed her eyes and pulled the blade. Illya's hot blood sprayed across her face and chest, proof of the deed being done. Shade closed the brave warrior's eyes and swore inwardly she would be willing to sacrifice even her own life to atone for this day.
 
Wandering across beaten trails, cross the forest, a pack gainst his shoulder, Andrew trudged on, he would be followed by a few horses, pulling with them a caravan, full of products and a more sinister merch. hidden among skinning daggers and leather caps were his specialty, deadly steel weapons he hand crafted himself. Andrew would not look back at the cart as he continued on, that would only invite suspicion. They needed these, and he could not mess this up. He was finally apart of something big. looking up, and pulling back the cloak's hood, he smiled as he walked. "ma, pa, look at me now." he whispered. "I'm finally doin both ya proud" he would finally turn back towards the cart, and raised his hand, signifying a break. the carts driver would nod, and flick the reigns, driving the wagon up against the side of the road, where the caravan made a stop for the night, as the moon was getting larger and higher in the sky
 
Claius Vondale (Impregnable Fortress)
Claius had been sitting in his seat, looking out of the window since last night. Some of his men knocked on his door in intervals, requesting him to eat or communicate, but he refused to move. Perhaps he half expected everyone to be wrong and that Illya would come walking out of the shadows of the forest. It was a fool's hope, but at times like these anyone had the right to be a fool.

It was approaching evening, and he knew that the returned envoy was still waiting for him to call a meeting. He didn't want to. A childish act, for sure, it was like a tantrum, but Claius didn't want to communicate and was too sick in the stomach to eat.

Illya is gone.

Adran's words cut smoothly throughout his defenses like a scythe does to its victims. How could everything go so wrong?

"It can't," Illya replied, "there's no such thing as wrong.

Claius raised an eyebrow. "And all of the sudden you became an intellectual?" She rolled her eyes.

"I just happen to know a thing or two. Besides you've had other bad days and you're going to experience much worse eventually. Just don't give up."

He scoffed. "You give up all the time. Can't I be normal for once?"

She grinned mischievously, sliding her daggers out of her sheathe. "You like to test me?"

He begrudgingly smiled. "Alright, but don't you 'give up'".

Claius sighed. Illya would have a good laugh when she sees him at his current state. Picking himself up, he pushed open his door.

"Get the Meeting Room ready," he boomed. "We are going to start in a bit."
 
Adran Triveron (Impregnable Fortress, Geraldis)

He'd been up early that morning. Couldn't think straight and no one was injured enough to require aid so he went straight to his favorite place, the meeting room. He hadn't slept well at all that night, images flashing through his mind of the various ways Illya could have met her end every time he closed his eyes. He just needed to let the world go, think about how to best proceed. Even the walls that surrounded his mind weren't safe though, as every time he tried to place himself in a scenario, that forest appeared before him, and he saw her die, over and over again.

His torture was broken by the doors to the meeting room opening, two Guardians entered one of them approaching him. "Adran, sorry we didn't know you were in here. Mind giving us a hand? Claius is going to start a meeting soon." Adran could only nod and helped set the chairs up. He wasn't ready for a meeting, not yet. He needed time to process, time to let the emotional wounds heal. He knew what his strategy was for the king however, and that is what he needed to present to Claius. Rufus was going to stab them in the back, he could feel it, and he wasn't going to let it happen.
 
Shade Bigge (Royal Palace, Helies)

Shade exited Illya's cell. She turned to look at Horus who waited at the end of the hall for the deed to be done. She made a show of taking a cloth and wiping the blood off her face and blade. He nods in acknowledgement that the execution had been performed and Shade turns away, inwardly seething. Illya's last wishes were clutched in the palm of her hand and she knew exactly what she needed to do.

The former loyal Captain of the King's Guard marches one last time to her barracks. Shade didn't have much time. She pulled open her drawers and threw her necessities into a bag, her gold especially. A moment later she opened her door and peered out into the hall. No one was coming. She slung the bag over her shoulder and made for the servant's quarters. Some of the King's Guard gave Shade curious looks as she passed, but being that she looked like a man on a mission, they didn't disturb her.

She reached the door to the servant's quarters and looked inside. It was empty, as it should be...with all the servants out doing their jobs. She closed the door behind her and got to work becoming the woman she'd always had been. She stripped off the clothing and weaponry of the King's Guard and loosened the tight bindings about her chest. She takes a dress that would fit her frame from a drying line (leaving gold in exchange) and slips it on. This alone would have been enough to confuse her appearance to most, but she was taking no chances. Shade lowered her hair from the tight bun it was always in and brushed it around her face. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She might have been pretty, if it weren't for the scowl on her face. A nearby ash bucket provided a chance to further disguise herself and she carefully scrubbed some ash around her eyes and forehead. By the time she was done, she barely recognized herself.

A new woman exited the servant's quarters a few moments later. Shade carried a basket of laundry with her weapons and bag hidden within. No one bothered her as she passed. No one recognized her. Once she was outside the castle limits she put down the basket, grabbed some linen, wrapped her valuables in them and continued her trot through the city. She stopped in the low class district and bought some commoner clothes to change into then hurried to a nearby inn. By this time it was night fall. She couldn't afford to delay long but neither could she have the King's guard tracking her. "I'd like a room for the evening." She lays a few coins on the table and the inn-keeper hands her the key. Once in the room she changes again, burning the servant's clothing in the fire. She waits until the innkeeper was distracted before exiting the inn, leaving the key on the pillow

It wasn't hard from here to get outside the walls. No one cared about the commoner walking with the caravan that was leaving the city limits. Once out she continued to walk as quickly as possible to the next village. There she bought the sturdiest, fastest looking horse they had. Once outside the village she pushed the steed into a gallop. Time was of the essence if she were to get to the Guardians in time to give them ample warning.
 
Andrew would continue on his way, his caravan close behind him. He looked down at the torn piece of paper he was given. Smiling, he stuffed the paper back into his pocket, continuing to lead. He, of course, was the only one who truly knew of the wares hidden among the ones catalogued. It was hell a lot of trouble to smuggle them in, but it was worth it in his eyes. Of course, they were just a distraction. no way he was going to go and hand of weapons. He would smile, as he felt his belt, placing his hand upon one of his creations. Of course not, the food was the main reason, but when they found out about the smuggled goods, although they weren't really smuggled, given he crafted them himself, they wouldn't notice a bit of the rest of the supplies gone. Or rather, all of them. He would whistle a tune as he continued on his way. Not that he knew, but he would be heading over to the Impregnable Fortress, little did he know, but after a few hours, it became apparent. The fortress, seeming like iron, stood before them and they're little caravan. Whistling with wonder, he began to move towards it, motioning the caravan. "come on, lets go see." He said as he trudged forward. the man at the reins tried to stop him, but continued on anyways, grudgingly flicking them, guiding the horses forward. Andrew smiled. (A nice little fortress, looks like a nice place to make a legend) he thought to himself (At least, my legend. Glad i took the backroads...)

(sorry if this contradicts a few things, im still getting used to this ;w;)
 
Andrin Deterius (Andaris, Helies)

Andrin decided to wander the halls of the barracks after the grueling practice. His arms and legs were sore from wielding a sword for so long after exercise, but he enjoyed the pain. It meant he was improving, something he didn't mind. He was still sorting through the possible plan of approaching the king, but the more he dwelled on the possibilities the more he realized that it would most likely not happen. He flicked his black hair from his eyes, still damp from the sweat he had gathered at training. Despite the chill winds outside, he still felt very warm. He strode along the hall with a couple other guardsmen, listening passively to the conversation when he noticed a strange sight. Captain Shade was marching down the hall, seemingly in a big hurry. The recruits saw the captain and stood to the side, snapping into salute. She didn't even give them a passing glance as she moved past them, her gaze set on a determined path. Andrin dropped the salute, reaching a hand out slowly. "Ma'am, I would like to speak to you about an important matter."

She ignored him, walking quickly down the hall past him. Shrugging, Andrin continued to walk down the hall when he stopped again. Something felt wrong to him. Usually the Captain returned the salute, even if busy with important matters. Turning back, Andrin followed the path Shade had taken. He was tired of doing the same drills everyday, and wanted to make a contribution to something important. If Captain Shade was in a hurry, something big must have happened, and he was determined to pledge his aid in whatever the cause.He turned the corner to find the Captain leaving her personal barracks, a small bag slung over her shoulder. She glanced around suspiciously before continuing, ignoring Andrin as he followed quickly behind her. He watched as she carefully opened the door to the servant's quarters and peered inside before entering herself and closing the door behind her.

Strange, the servants should be out doing their chores right now. Andrin thought to himself as he slowed his pace down. Perhaps some plot of some kind involving one of them has appeared? He reached the servants door and nearly opened it himself, but he paused, his hand hovering over the doorknob. If I walk in on secret business, nothing good will come of it. Perhaps I should wait out here. Nodding to himself with confirmation, he instead took a step back and to the side, leaning against the wall to await his Captain's departure of the servant's quarters. A few minutes later a beautiful, if somewhat dirty woman came out carrying a load of laundry. "Pardon me, m'lady," Andrin said apologetically as he stepped aside allowing the woman to pass. The servant said nothing as she walked by him, and Andrin returned to his spot next to the door. The minutes ticked by, Andrin growing more curious as time went. He didn't know of any other passages leading from the servant's quarters, and he began to think about his observations. It was strange to see a servant still in the quarters at the time, he mused. On top of that, she had been carrying laundry, and laundry day wasn't until tomorrow. The servant also seemed more gruff than the others, and muscular.

Frowning, Andrin turned to face the door again. Perhaps the Captain had been slain? He fearfully thought, but dismissed the feeling immediately. It must have been a new servant, still getting used to the schedule he reasoned. Still he couldn't shake the suspicion off. He needed to figure out if something had happened to sate his fear. Gods be dammed if he got in trouble, surely the Captain would understand the worry he had. Taking a deep breath, he pushed the door open and entered the quarters himself.

It was warm inside, a fire dying down in the fireplace set against the wall. It was slightly messy, but that was something Andrin was expecting. What he wasn't expecting was the slight stench of burning cloth he detected in the room and the absence of a Captain of the Kingsguard. He scanned the room, his mind going completely focused as he searched for any signs he could find. A stylized hair-tie laid on the counter below the mirror, something Andrin found odd in a servant's quarters. A small pile of gold also laid right below an empty space on a drying line. The dresses were dry by now, but gold lying under a space suggested someone had purchased a servant's dress. Or paid for compensation. He glanced into the fireplace, the pieces coming together in his mind. The final piece of the puzzle lay smoldering in the glowing embers of the fireplace. Shocked, Andrin stood there for a moment before bolting from the room, heading straight for the Throne Room. He had to inform someone immediately of what he had found as the revelation hit him full force.

In the fire lay the burning and decorated uniform of the Kingsguard, the insignia of the rank of Captain glowing with heat.
 
Rajiana Pendragon (Training Grounds, Helies)

Sweat dripped from his face onto the cold stone. He holds his wooden sword tightly in his grip. His breathing was heavy, he had been practicing for hours now. He looked around and saw a handful of other recruits staying for practice, and they were just as exhausted as him. Resting the false blade on his shoulder, he walked to the training dummy again. Lifting the sword, be readied as he got into stance. Concentrating, he mustered the remaining energy he had in him to swing the heavy sword and split the dummies head partly from the neck, leaving it slightly ajar. Satisfied with this milestone of his journey as a recruit, he leaned against the oak mannequin for a while.

The handful of recruits around him grew wearier with every swing, perspiration flowing from their faces. This was a great day to train, the cold breeze was a blessing. After a couple of minutes he returned to stance, and hacked away at the post as he sharpened the accuracy of his blows.
 
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