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Fantasy A Sword to Wield with a Broken Hilt IC

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seasonedcat

seasonedcat

bloodless
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The air was cold, cold enough that puffs of white came out in front of you when you breathed. It had rained all last night and the dirt roads of the capital Opol, despite the chill, still remained muddy. The mud that is cold and sinks into your toes and boots and freezes you into your very bones. Anselm always wondered how the horses did it. His boots felt heavy and cold and he felt stuck to the ground like he was glued. His toes and fingers were far too cold, the gloves he wore doing seemingly nothing. His nose dusted pink along with the rest of his face. He was cold, he didn't like it, but unlike him, the horses stood proud. Their hoofs never stuck and they never failed. There were horses far fewer than the amount he was hoping for, he didn't even know who they were. It was obvious this was going to fail. He knew it was going to fail the moment he was shoved to the front. They didn't look at him in awe and trust like they did his sister, they couldn't care less what he had to say. They turned to the church, the blades, the mages, the people they trusted. Everyone knew he was going to fail, even himself.

He wonders if his sister had made this plan, would people have thought it would succeed? Well, her being her would have made it succeed, she always knew what to do. She wouldn't be coming on the mission either, far too dangerous for the Hilt, of course, he himself was a different story. His 'trusted' companions thrust him into this spot, saying it is what he had to do, though he knew they just wanted him to be gone so that they could come up with a plan that would work. He shook his head, there was nothing he could do now but wait to die.

The group had almost all made it to the capital at night, rooms booked at a cheap inn near the stables for them to stay at overnight if needed. Any that weren't there at night would be arriving in the morning now. They would be setting off at dawn. Or well, since it was already dawn, a little after dawn. Horses were packed with equipment and all that was left was for the 'warriors' to join him. He leaned against the stable, wearing a cloak not suited for his title. He wonders if it hadn't hit him yet. If he was just not accepting what happened. If he really hated her that much. That maybe he was happy she was gone. It made him sick. It made him shake from something other than the cold. He could still feel her silk hands on his face, cupping his chinn. Her soft eyes. He felt like he was going to vomit. He heaved silently for a moment. God, he hopped no one showed up right now.
 
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The cold was a blessing to Hackel. Although criminals and runaway debtors didn't take a day off, he found it easier and more enjoyable to snag thick coats with his infamous hook, so that he could drag his quarry kicking and screaming towards him, through slippery mud or across treacherous ice. Today was different, though; the odd culmination to a week no one should relive. Crumpled in his vice-like grip was the flier calling people to arms. Originally penned by the new Hilt, Hackel knew the effort wouldn't gain many followers, if any.

So why did he risk being the only madman to follow this reputed failure? It was quite simple: relatability. One failure had every reason to help the other. As a man who had lost everything already, he aimed to gain something back through his efforts and good faith. That left one question: How? Well... that was one for the ages. An employee of Penari's infamous underground fighting ring posed the question, citing the negative reputations and past failures of the two. She was astounded by the madness of the answer: "Perhaps two negatives will cancel." Having left many in disbelief and a few cackling at a perceived attempt at humor, he left his icy hunting grounds to meet the Hilt.

Eventually, there came the distinct sound of heavy boots trudging through the mud near the stables, approaching the distressed young Hilt. Before him stood the ghastly specter and first to respond: the ostensibly barbarous bounty hunter, Red Hook. His shabby bear pelt was spattered with dried human and monster blood. He remained dead silent for a second, the tension in the air tangible. "Reporting," he rasped before bowing with unexpected reverence.

seasonedcat seasonedcat
 
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  • Sitra​
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    I stretched while sneaking around in my morning walk. Aaah, what a good night, resting in a comfy inn's bed. I heard there were fancier, but it sure beat just laying out in the cold with nothing but my backpack for a pillow. I pulled on its shoulder straps after my stretch, adjusting the thing behind, and after glancing from side to side and confirming there was no one watching, I plucked those posters out of the boards.

    "She's already gotten this far huh? Crap." I told myself, humming in between the sounds of shredded parchment. I soon returned to my previous line of thought. "Real nice, wasn't he? Paying for our rooms and all. I guess I shouldn't get too used to it though... There's no way we'll be able to keep staying in comfy places with the places were supposed to go.... I think. Maybe."

    I walked a bit further, and again glancing in every direction, I sneaked into a corner somewhere and thrust the fragments of paper into it. I breathed a sigh of relief and grinned in self-contentment, moments before I spotted that sobbing child in that very same corner, glaring at me with squinted red wet eyes. My grin quickly shifted to a nervous one, accompanied by an involuntary chuckle.

    "Hum... Congratulations?"

    "For what?" The child sneered back. Right. For what indeed. I didn't know either.

    "Winning? Hide and seek?"

    "Huh?" He seem utterly confused, but before I could take note of it, something occurred to me.

    "Wait a minute, I found you though. Doesn't that mean I won? Yeah, I won!"

    "What?"

    "I won, I won! Hehehe." I bent over the child, smiling ear to ear and winking.

    "No you didn't!" He stood up, frustrated. "We weren't even playing hide and seek!"

    "Oh?" I straightened myself back up. "Then why were you hiding there?"

    The boy fell silent. He had this grimaced expression on his face, his lips curled inward as he looked down and away from me. I glanced around behind where he was sitting, and pointed at a doll whose back was ripped open, stuffing virtually all out and sprinkled with fur from some animal.

    "Is it about that?"

    "DON'T LOOK!" The boy practically leaped to cover it. "It's not my fault ok? I was just kidding a bit. How was I supposed to know there was a dog down the hill?"

    I didn't say anything. I wasn't sure what to say. I got that it wasn't his fault, he said so himself. I got that he was upset because of the doll, and it probably was from whoever he was teasing... but I didn't get much else.

    "She's totally gonna hate me down."

    "Who?"

    "My little sister. It was her favorite doll."

    "Can't you fix it?"

    "Of course not! Boys don't know how to sew or... play with dolls... or with girls..."

    "Can I see it?"

    "You can fix it?"

    I shrugged.

    "I dunno." The boy stared at me a bit, but then reluctantly and gently placed the doll in my hands. It's only then that I got a good glimpse of the boy's hands, both those and his lower arms being almost covered in cuts, more surface-level or already with dry blood, most likely from wrestling the doll out of whatever animal got it. I would have to bring him somewhere to deal with that later. For starters however, I had a thorough look at the doll, moved it around a bit, then began plucking out the animal hairs I could see, and finally pushed the stuffing back inside, using my fingers to try to distribute it better inside the doll, however it was clear to see that there was plenty of missing stuffing. "And how do I even close this back up?"

    I felt my heart drop a bit when I saw the boy's disappointed look after what I just said. Was I just giving him false hopes and shattering them here?! NO NO don't think about that kind of thing! There HAD to be a solution somewhere! I immediately stood up, clenching my fist in front of me in determination, and the boy followed nearly leaping up, though confused.

    "What's your name?"

    "Rabber."

    "Alright, Rabber, we're gonna fix this nomatter what! There's gonna be something we can find to-" Find? I got back on my knees, confusing the boy evermore, and picking some of the fragments of parchment I dropped earlier. I pushed them in a bit, rolling into small balls of shredded parchment, realizing while it wasn't quite the same it was close enough in softness and in how they got easily pushed together, to the stuffing of the doll. It probably wouldn't work on its own, but if I put inside the real stuffing, the sister might not even be able to tell the difference! It didn't even have the smell that the animal fur had, so that wasn't a problem either. The boy watched in horror, tried to stop me even, but I convinced him to let me continue, and finally I was done. "Now, we just need to close this up! Come on, I know a place that help us!"

    I grabbed him by the upper arm and showed him a smile, big and wide, then off we went! Once more, he seemed a tad surprised, but even with all the doom and gloom from before Rabber couldn't help letting out a chuckle, one which I returned as well, of course!

    I knew we could tie up that doll, it wasn't quite sewing, but it could keep the stuffing from coming out. Plus this way we could help the boy's hands too. Of course, there was one place to go if one wanted to get those bandages we would need: A church. There didn't seem to be a ton of people outside today (at least not yet) though. Only a single scabbard was visible, so I found myself sprinting to her, and unfortunately tripping up alongside the boy as a result.

    "Are you alright?" I asked the Rabber.

    "Are you alright?" Echoed the scabbard, coming over for us.

    "Oh, it's fine, it's fine." I pulled myself up, whilst the boy took the scabbard's aid. "There's something we wanted, actually."

    "You did seem to be in quite a rush."

    I showed the boy's hands to the scabbard.

    "We were looking to buy some bandages if possible."

    "Very well. I'll go get them then. You two wait here, try not to get more hurt while I'm getting those bandages." The scabbard turned around and went inside, leaving us iddle and just glancing around at nothing.

    "Hey miss! The miss with the big backpack over there!" Called out an older man while we waited. His hair was starting to grey and recede, and he currently leaning over a bunch of twigs sitting atop a stone block. "Isn't that thing heavy? Are you alright?"

    "Oh this?" I tapped my backpack. "No worries, it's lighter than it looks! What are you doing over there by the way?"

    The man raised an eyebrow, but still responded with a sigh.

    "Just tryin' to light up a fire. Been at it for a while too. Just can't seem to get a fire going."

    "Oh, maybe I could help. Can I borrow one of those sticks?"

    "Uh, sure. You can just grab them off the ground I guess. It's not going to be that easy to just light a fire though."

    "Uh, no, you see I got my uh-" I pulled out my connector, immediately realizing the mistake. Crap! I wasn't supposed to show anyone magic! I already got scolded about it before didn't I? "Special flint! I just need some room so I'll go light the fire in th-there, over there."

    I moved away to a hidden place, muttering under my breath.

    "Flames that heat the passions of the soul, manifest yourselves at my fingertips." And with that small chant, a small flame erupted upon where I was pointing the connector, the stick. I returned, grinning with it and placing it on the makeshift powerplace. The man looked at it for a moment, then rubbed his forehead. I tilted my head, unsure what was going on, and then he stood up and leaned over my shoulder.

    "Little miss, I'm not stupid. You didn't even take some steel with you to make a spark, and you moved away to light the fire, which you did in seconds despite having no conditions to do so. You should be thankful I was the only one paying attention, or you would have just outed yourself right in front of a church. I don't wanna see anyone with a good heart like yourself get caught up, but you need to be more careful!"

    It was at that moment that the lady from the church returned, carrying some bandages.

    "Alright, go on. And be more careful from here on."

    I nodded, nervously, and then waved at the lady with the bandages.

    "Coming, coming!"

    I ran off to her, and gave her some change for the bandages. Well, to be honest even change was kind of a big deal, but I was already feeling too committed to stop now! I began by wrapping up the kid's hands while we walked, then I took the doll again.

    "What are you going to do with it?" He asked.

    "You'll see." I took some of the remaining bandages, and began wrapping them around the doll. It was a little crude, but it should keep it together at least. The color was actually pretty similar, the doll's and the bandages, so maybe it wouldn't be too noticeable?

    "Is this... good enough?"

    "I'm sure it will be." I rubbed his hair and began humming as we made our way to where he said his parents were supposed to be.

    ------

    "Rabber!" Shouted his mother with a clear look of relief, but changing into a far sterner look soon after. "Where have you been? What happened to your fingers? Who is this lady?"

    I noticed a blush on the boy's face, and that he fell silent again. My time to shine, is what that meant.

    "Hello, nice to meet you. I found Rabber here, he seemed kind of hurt, so I brought him to a church. He was really worried because he felt about the state of that doll, he didn't know what to do to get his sister to forgive him."

    Mother looked at son. The boy was blushing even harder, but now worry was creeping in as well. Fortunately the woman caught on to this, and shook her head.

    "You know Rab, you could have just come and talked to me. I would have just helped you sew it back up, and then you could apologize to your sister."

    "Y-you would?"

    "Of course. Who do you think made that doll for your sister?"

    Tears began to well up in the boy's eyes, and he rushed to embrace his mother's waist. She stroked the back of his head, and turned to me.

    "Thank you for helping him."

    "It was no problem! Say, what's that you were carrying?"

    "Oh, my husband runs this tavern here. I was just helping him move the supplies that arrived to the storage."


    ---------------

    I ended up helping them a while longer, carrying crates around until I realized I might be late for the place we were supposed to meet up at. Rabber's mother ended up taking off the bandages on the doll and sewing it up before going with the boy to return it and apologize to his sister. She seemed a bit moved when she learned her brother had fought off a dog for her doll. For my help, his father ended up giving me some of the meat that come in a spike, hence why I was still biting off bits of it with my cheeks swollen as I chewed by the time I arrived at the stables.

    I thrust my arm up in the air and began waving at them, bits of fat flying in either side of me.

    "Hey! Hey! I'm here too!" I announced. There was that boy that seemed he would blend into and disappear in the snow, and also a tall guy covered head to toe in some rough-looking armor. "Are we just waiting here outside? Not going in? There's horses in there right?"

    Ah horses! There were so many of them everywhere out here. I wonder if I was going to get to ride one?



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Interacting With: seasonedcat seasonedcat Goonfire Goonfire
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If it wasn't for the map, Yona would've thought she arrived back at Penari. This coldness in the air was something she was familiar with most of her childhood, but it wasn't the same. Of course, this is Opol. It's cold, but not quite the same unforgiving temperatures she felt on Penari streets. Though, given she stayed at Kharien for a year and a half, she wasn't used to it as she was before. Luckily, she had brought a simple cloak. Not only did it protect her from the cold weather, but it can protect her from the rain due to its material and the way it was woven. Nothing magical about it. She also kept her katana at her side and her red gem on her forehead. When people asked what the purpose was, she would just say she's a traveling sword dancer, a performer. It works since she knew how to dance with a blade because of her training from Penari.

Yona arrived in the back of a carriage driven by a merchant that was heading towards the main parts of Opol, carrying cargo to supply the vendors there. Once they passed by a tavern, the merchant stopped and turned around to speak to her with quite the accent. "Alright, miss. This yer stop. Me debt to ya is repaid." He said, waiting for her reply. "Thank you, sir. Safe travels be with you, I won't be able to ward off any dangers for you in the near future." She replied with a smile as she got off. Just as she was about to head into the tavern, the driver gave her a warning. "Safe travels with ye as well, lass. Yer tricks don't bode well with the Blades. 'Specially them Scabbards of the church. Terrible things happen to yer folk just 'cause." She gave him a little a nod and watched him off before she headed into the tavern. She'd definitely heed those sorts of warnings since she is now in a different territory.

Once she entered the tavern, she took off her hood but still kept her cloak on. Inside, she sought out the man running the tavern and bowed her head towards him before getting straight to business. "Hello, how much for a meal here, sir?" She asked politely and patiently waited for a response.

Idea Idea - I'm tagging you because I kind of assume you control the tavern owner. ))
 
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111011010
There was nothing particularly atypical about the man's tavern. It was a small place, a simple wooden building amongst the settlement without even a name save for the owner's. To the left side stretched a number of crude couches, separated by skin "walls" and made of what once could have been sacks of potatoes, stuffed with dirt. Thought they might be somewhat shock absorbent, it was also tough so its comfort was questionable, for certain a poor imitation of the trends emerging at the capital. Caged candles over small, iron tables provided the lighting as the small windows near the ceiling were closed due to the cold, except for an opening on the center of the roof acting as a sort of chimney. An examination of the floor would reveal it less elaborate. Clean towards the center, like a hallway of missing dust, whilst the further one headed to the more obscured corners, the more one noticed the age of the wood with some places even having small gaps or bent tiles. Not enough to be noticeable if one wasn't looking straight at it, of course, and hardly enough for a grown man to trip and fall, but it certainly didn't match the somewhat richer part of the tavern, the counter to the right with what seemed to be the one stone structure in the whole place, a large arch containing shelves of liquor and an old man in front of it in an apron of padded leather and a well-trimmed white beard, who was currently in the process of checking his tools for the day. As soon as he heard the newcomer, he put them down and welcomed them with a smile.

"Looking for some breakfast I take it? Well, the price would depend on what you want. Feel like having a big, full breakfast? As it happens I got some meat right this morning, and this kind girl helped us bring it all, so we're fully stocked. Bet you heard about the wild boars they've been hunting recently? They say their diet since they started moving territory gave them a slightly sweet aftertaste. On the other hand, nothing wrong with being a little frugal, I think I've still got some good bread in good condition. I'd offer it to you fresh, but I'm afraid it's still a bit early for the baker to pass by."



CasualTea CasualTea
 
Tiria & Siv Idea Idea CasualTea CasualTea seasonedcat seasonedcat Goonfire Goonfire
Tiria couldn’t remember the last time she slept on an actual bed. The mattress was stuffed with straw, and the blankets were scratchy, but it was about as good as it could get for a street thief such as herself. Still, Tiria couldn't quite relax. She kept her eyes on the door to her room, even as the lock was fastened, expecting someone to barge in and throw her out. Even the food, which had been given to her fresh out of the oven, made her feel like she had to bolt with it. Old habits died hard, but Tiria was beginning to think she could get used to it.

Siv seemed to be enjoying the luxuries as well. He was laid at the end of the bed, like a mound of snow on top of the blankets. He lifted his head when he heard Tiria stir, ears perked up and eye bright. Morning meant it was time to steal some freshly baked bread from the market, one of his favourite activities.

Tiria sat up and patted his head, yawning, “Morning, buddy. You hungry too? Let me get my stuff, then we can swing by the kitchen and see what they won't miss.”
She hopped off the bed and began to get dressed in the new clothes she had been provided with.

ready to go.jpgArmour would be nothing but a bulky hindrance, not to mention noisy, so Tiria had asked for some durable, yet stealthy clothing. Nothing too fancy, just enough to blend into a crowd and keep off the cold, with loose sleeves for sleights-of-hand. She pulled her new shirt over her head and wiggled into the wool leggings. Her boots were deceptively simple as well, just deer skin and soft soles, but with the right step they would be as light as cat paws.

Once she was dressed, she knelt under the bed and pulled out her bag. Everything was still inside; her coins, rocks, a thread and needle, and her lockpick. She flipped her pillow and placed the makeshift shiv into her bag as well. It wouldn’t do much against a monster, but it could stab a nighttime intruder well enough. Hopefully she could 'borrow' a weapon from someone, or better yet, take it from a corpse. There wouldn't be a short supply of those laying around.

With Siv close behind, Tiria made her way out of the inn and into the cold streets. There happened to be a tavern nearby, a perfect match for an inn, and where there was drink, there was food. Drunk people were the best to steal from. Half the time you didn't even need to try. They'd pass out, or ask you strange questions. Stealing candy from a baby was more of a challenge than a boozehound.

Tiria watched a strange lady enter the tavern and casually leaned against the doorway, listening into the conversation. The lady had strange clothes and an expensive sword. Probably a knight or some foreign sell-sword by the looks of it. She might have good money on her, but the sword was enough to make a pick-pocket think twice. Instead, she listened to what was on the menu. Boar meat and bread? A pretty decent meal, with certainly enough to spare.

Tiria gave Siv a small whistle and motioned towards the strange lady through the window. She silently cracked the tavern's door open. "Keep 'em busy for me, kay? I'll get us some bread and meat."

While Tiria circled around the tavern, searching for a window to the kitchen, Siv ran into the tavern and jumped onto the bar table, knocking over bottles and mugs alike. He chomped on one of the tavern keeper's tools and ran with it to the farthest corner of the tavern, shaking it like some bone. His eye carefully watched the both of them, waiting for any movement and preparing to run away if they made chase. If they stood still, he would begin to chew the tool.


In the back of the tavern, Tiria swung into the kitchen window. She was quick to spot the aforementioned bread, and while stuffing two loafs into her bag, took a look for the promised meat. There were a few cuts already made and wrapped. Stocked up indeed. Tiria grabbed one for Siv, and listened for how things were going in the front room. She heard some bottles break, which was always a good sign.

Smiling to herself, she grabbed an apple from a barrel and hopped out the window. As she walked towards the stables she bit into her apple and hummed a soft tune. Not a bad start. The weather was a bit cold for her tastes, but at least she had some new clothes on. A cloak would have made it better, but she'd look for one of those too.

Soon enough, she made it to the stables.

"Oi, Snowy, when're we leaving this shithole?" Tiria called over to Anselm. Her cool demeanour was interrupted when a horse let out a snort. She flinched, eyes wide. "Eh? Are we seriously taking horses? Not a carriage or anything...?"

It was then that she noticed the nauseous look on Anselm's face. She smirked, snickering, "What's up, Snowy? Breakfast not up to your standards?"

"Or, is it just this guy's smell? You got a little... something on your cloak there, pal." She took another bite of her apple and gave a nonchalant wave at the masked man with the raspy voice. Judging by the weapons he carried, there was at least one person here who could fight off a monster or two. If not, well, he had a nice looking cloak. Might need a little cleaning, though.
 
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To Yona's surprise, the tavern owner was very welcoming despite her suddenly making her presence known and getting straight into business. Carefully considering her choices of breakfast, in which not much consideration was made at all, she was thinking about the boar meat. The way the tavern owner advertised it really sounded more enticing to have and the fact that it was meat, there's no way she could pass this meal up. She was pretty hungry to begin with since she didn't really sleep much overnight. She woke up in the middle of the night because of how the trail turned into a muddy and slightly bumpy ride for the cargo carriage. With a smile on her face, she made her order. "Well, if you put it that way, I just can't refuse freshly hunted meat, now can I? I'll have a good serving of the boar meat, please!" She said a bit excitedly.

It didn't take long afterward for her attention to quickly become forcefully pulled as some mutt started causing a whole cluster cluck of a mess. She recoiled slightly at the first sound but then just watched the dog with concern. She also noticed that it was no ordinary dog. It was missing an eye and has scars on his muzzle and sides. To her intuition, this mutt probably had an owner and she was nearby. Well, not really her intuition. She only caught the duo pass by in the corner of her eye while the owner was talking meat. Considering how the dog seemingly settled with one of the tavern owner's tools like it was a sort of bone. "Uh... Here, let me help you out a bit..." She said a bit sheepishly to the owner as she went and started putting the mugs and unbroken bottles back where they were supposed to be.

Yona also made it clear that she wasn't stealing any bottles as she had taken off her cloak and set it on a chair before she began helping out. Her attire was definitely uncommon as it looked enough to be quite an expensive and elaborate outfit. Not only that, she had her katana sheathed at her side, both being very clean of any dirt. Soon after she was done with all that, she turned her attention to the dog and calmly walked over. Seemingly enough, she had a look on her face that definitely had some form of authority and it showed. It looked as if a blade was about to issue an order, but it also had some element of kindness as if it were from an understanding mage. She stood at a reasonable distance in front of it and held out her hand. "Could we have that back, please?" She asked nicely with a little hint of demand behind her request. Her red eyes just staring at the dogs eyes to hopefully establish some sort of authority. All she wanted was to return the tavern owner's tool to him.

Idea Idea Juju Juju
 
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Romulus Faenor had opted to arrive in Opol the morning everyone was supposed to meet, over being there the night before. Nothing against the lovely people of Opol, he just has little trust of staying anywhere with that many devoted members of the Church. He's heard enough stories of mages being caught to know its better to not risk it. Especially with the troubles in leadership, it'd be stupid of a prominent member of the Rebellion to just show up... He also had doubts on the quality of any lodgings provided for those who accepted this quest.

Sure, Faenor should have a better outlook on this. It's a quest to go and save the world, to quell the chaos and fear that has risen ever since that dreadful day. However, as the somewhat bumpy ride of this carriage wore on, he couldn't help but face the facts as he watched the buildings slowly pass and people go by. The stand-in Hilt is an oddity, and one that holds little actual sway from what he's heard from various people in his travels to Opol thus far. The Blades won't follow the Hilt, the Mages are more concerned with figuring out their new lead to actually offer their aid. He'd not be shocked if they'd struggle to get aid from the Scabbards even with the usage of the name. This is a desperate attempt to do something, without the usual resources one would expect to get for deeds under the banner of a Hilt.

So why was he here? Why was he travelling into the lion's den to aid an inglorious quest led by a stand in leader who is arguably worse than a figurehead? Simple. If this succeeds, and he can forge at least a bond with the stand in Hilt, Faenor would have the best claim to lead the Rebellion. Dear friend of Algar, who knew the man long before he became the leader, with a direct line and connection to the hero who brought the world together again after the painful tragedy. This was little more than a chance to gain what he wants. Direct control of the direction the Rebellion will take.

It's with this thought in mind, that the carriage driver stopped before an inn, near to the stables the messenger had told him to meet up at when he was at his last stop. With a small sigh, the Elf rose from his somewhat comfortable seat, and began to stretch. So long sitting did not do any favors concerning aches and pains. No matter, he shouldn't be keeping the driver waiting. Once he opened the door, he pulled a pouch free from the belt of his robe, handing it to the driver. He didn't bother counting out the amount for a reasonable tip. Most of his money was left home, and he had two more pouches on him anyways to afford basic rations if he had to. So with an arrogant smirk, he chuckled and turned to head for the stable. "Keep the change, I'm sure you need it more than me."

With that, Faenor walked closer to the stables shocked to see... Well, it wasn't much of a scene, but it did make him question the way this will go. Let's see, where to begin his bitching? How about the bowing brute whose pelt was bloodied enough to make Faenor believe the oaf had just skinned it and thrown it on before entering? What a loathsome ape-ish thing to do.

Then there was another human, clearly raised in a barn with those manners. Eating and speaking? Disgusting. He's seen better manners in half giants and destitute beggars.

Oh, and what could it be, if not only what appears to be a human, but an adolescent at that. Truly, the hardest hitting of teams here. He couldn't help but wonder what exactly he's agreed to. He was expecting a bit more... Well, elves would be a lot more easier to work with, but maybe these are well trained apes? He sure hopes so.

Finally, his gaze turned to Anselm, and he grimaced a little. The boy seemed overwhelmed by something, more than likely the loss of his sister. Which is definitely understandable and relatable for many people these days, but he couldn't help but judge a little for it. A leader should be able to conceal such emotions for the sake of the group. It does not inspire confidence to know the leader may be distracted by his losses.

"What a pleasure to finally meet you, Anselm. May this be a fruitful endeavor for us all." It was painfully obvious that he didn't believe that first part, but nevertheless he played the part, taking a short bow more out of believed expectation than anything else.

Juju Juju seasonedcat seasonedcat Idea Idea Goonfire Goonfire
 
Hackel rose after regarding the Hilt, taking his place next to the boy. He caught the cheeky remark from the obvious street rat. “Trouble on the road,” the bounty hunter claimed with dubious vagueness.

Then, the sight of a certain elf instantly put him on high alert. That pompous elf was immediately recognizable—a ‘rebel’ with too much ‘class’ for his own good. Hackel’s shoulders tensed. If it weren’t for the shadows under his helmet, one would more easily see two eyes alight with fire more intense than those of any pyromancy spell, the mere stare lambasting the mage and his smug aura. It took every fiber of his being to not rake his hook across the bastard’s throat and make the Blades’ day.

‘What is this snake’s plan?’ Hackel wondered, actually knowing little about Faenor. Perhaps this was a sabotage or assassination plot. ‘No; too predictable, too little polish, too little reward.’ It then clicked in his head: ‘this shit is here to win Anselm’s favor in case we emerge victorious. Very clever, little rat... very clever.’ The ex-Blade’s logic then dictated, ‘I need to provide wise counsel to ensure another youth is not corrupted like...’

He cringed discreetly, the next two words in his string of thought hurting worse than any physical wound.

‘... my son.’

seasonedcat seasonedcat Juju Juju The True Plague The True Plague
 
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The man chuckled in response.

"Happy to please miss. One delicious piece of fresh boar meat coming riiiight u-" The owner didn't get the chance to finish his sentence, as his eye caught the sight of some monophthalmic hound walking straight into the tavern after bursting open the door. He glanced over to his first customer of the day and attempted to give her a reassuring smile. "Just a moment."

The man attempted to reach for a broom, but he barely gotten his arm into the counter when the animal sprung into action, leaping onto the counter, and then to the man's face.

"GAH!" He yelled, struggling and getting the mutt off, which then knocked over a number of bottles from behind the owner, sneaking, sprinting, circling around the old man then biting a hold of a frying pan while the owner was forced to jump back himself, narrowing avoiding some nasty cuts from the falling knives dropped when the pan was pulled. He was just left there, merely staring at the knives he had cleaned earlier all dropped on the floor, at the spilled brownish contents reeking alcohol, sprinkled with fragments of colored glass that once contained them, and the dog just sitting by the entrance seeming to wearily chew on the pan it stole. It would be hard to blame the man for his hands going to his head. It took a moment, but his screams after were as if he held them down, but they nonetheless welled all up at once. "AAAAAAAGH! That was EXPENSIVE! And that, that's my favorite frying pan! Give it back you jackal! Aaaaah, how am I ever going to repay those loans if stuff like this is going to happen?"

As if just to make matters worse, he was pretty sure he heard some bumps out in the store room too. He shuddered to think what it could mean, but he couldn't very well just up and leave this mess to go check the storeroom, especially not with a client still around. Fortunately, at least her helpful attitude in picking up at least the unbroken stuff was helping him regain his composure. Then, his family came running out of their rooms.

First there was the sound of doors, then his daughter shrieking like a banshee as she saw the dog, probably an after-effect from what happened that morning. Her mother was quick to embrace the girl and attempt to calm her down, but still managed to sneak out a "what's going on here?!" kind of glance.

"Damned mutt just jumped right inside while I was getting ready and went on a rampage. The one chewing on my favorite pan right there. What's more uh... Rabber! Can you go see if anything's in the store room? Bring a weapon or something too, just in case."

The boy nodded and sprinted out to go get his weapon, an old rusty sword the man had once found dropped in the snow. It would do for now. He went into the storeroom, just in time to catch a single glimpse of the a girl sneaking out, and judging by the open crates she'd helped herself quite a bit. He pulled out anything that looked dirtied at a glance, then quickly closed the crates and breathed a sight, readying himself to go tell his father the bad news.

What a dragon ride of a day.


CasualTea CasualTea Juju Juju



  • Sitra​
    012da7c6f2acc355361665c370226c9e.jpg

    The first person to arrive after myself was a girl with orange eyes, chewing on a strangely familiar apple whilst smelling of an oddly familiar scent of boar meat. Well, that was just a coincidence, I was sure of it. Or maybe it was just because I half-remembered seeing her yesterday while we were getting our rooms at the inn. I smiled and gave her a little wave as she walked right past me and address the boy that seemed to blend into the snow. Which, of course, made sense he was supposed to be the leader of this expedition after all, so you'd greet the person in charge first, and the rest of the group later. Sure enough, she then proceeded to turn around and give a little wave to that man of few words in between bites of her apple and conversing with the one that gathered us. And that was it.

    I held off on saying anything, as I didn't want to get in the way of their conversation, plus the armored guy took some kind of issue with what the girl said (or maybe he was just giving a friendly warning? Thanks I guess?) and regardless it seemed we had someone new as well. An elf in rather fine clothing, quite taller than my adoptive mother, though that wasn't quite so difficult. Like the girl before him, he addressed his greeting to Anselm, even bowing which I guessed was some kind of high society thing. Unlike her though, he didn't seem to make any immediate effort to address anyone else present, but I sure wasn't about to let him get away with it for long: Smile as bright and wide as (thing), I practically slid in front of him and attempted to grab both of his hands with my gloved ones.

    "Very nice to meet you, hum, whatever your name is!" I beamed, energetically attempting to shake his hands (or just gesturing with them if I didn't manage to grab his). "Guess I should've asked your name first, right? Hahaha. I'm Sitra, that's my name. Yours? Oh, you bowed earlier, is that a thing we're supposed to do, sorry, I'll bow now, don't worry!"

    I took a (definitely insufficient) step back.

    "Happy to work with you!" I attempted to replicate his bow, though I did it both fast and sloppy. Considering where I was moments earlier, if he did not evade we'd end up butting heads. Oops.



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Interacting With: seasonedcat seasonedcat The True Plague The True Plague
Mentions: Goonfire Goonfire Juju Juju
Might Also Want to Read: N/A​
 
Faenor was startled out of his general cloud of disinterested observation when the unmannered ape decided to just grab his hands. Or at least, she tried to get both his hands. He narrowly managed to get the left hand free, but alas that left his right trapped between her two hands. Great. Now he has human on one of Snapdragon's gloves. This better not mess with anything!

He took a slow breath, as she energetically shook his hand like she was some child who was spoiled with sugar. Far from anything he'd usually deal with, except for a few overindulgent drunks at a few of the less stuffy parties. He did the common courtesy of noting what she was saying. Someone has to be polite here, and it only makes sense it'd be the Elf.

"Nice to meet you too, Sitra. I, am Romulus Faenor, though you can merely use Faenor." He specifically said that in the hopes she wouldn't be able to actually pronounce it, so that he'd have a valid reason to ignore her. "Actually, I only bowed to Anselm due to him being stand in Hil-" Haha bonk. He wasn't expecting her to not know the proper distance to be away from someone to avoid hitting them. That's basic fucking knowledge right there. He's certainly seen children understand that kind of spatial reasoning!

However, given the whole, you know, seven inch difference in height they had, it's less likely her bowing would hit his head. After all, she's like, maybe chin height to him, if that, and he was standing straight up. Him not backing up in time, like he failed to do, would actually cause her to headbutt his chest. His smile would turn a bit on the thin side, closing his eyes for a minute before giving a long exhale.

"You don't have to bow to me. You are not a servant of my family, or a member of the Rebellion to my knowledge. I bowed to Anselm, due to his status and rank above me." Out of everyone here, he won't be the first one to lose their cool. Especially with that oaf in the blood stains glaring at him. Yeah, his elf eyes can see that. Not well, with the shadows, but he can tell enough to know you're staring. And that's rude. With a capital R.

Interaction: Idea Idea
Mentions: Goonfire Goonfire seasonedcat seasonedcat
 
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#B1E1CB
Interacting: Idea Idea (Sitra) The True Plague The True Plague (Romulus) Goonfire Goonfire (Hackel) Juju Juju (Tiria) seasonedcat seasonedcat (Anselm)
Mentions: N/A​


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"And they lived happily, ever after." Satisfied, the girl shut the book. Her silky, emerald hair trailed behind as she hurried past the frigid atmosphere, holding her cap to her head. Re-reading the book served its purpose in passing the time to sound of her own footsteps; she marched all the way to the location with only excitement and lavish expectations fueling her. Not even the grey and weary air seemed to slow what was a beaming orb of light amid the dreariness.

Edelmira Ise paused in the distance, shaking—not from the cold, but sheer anticipation. For there they were, gathered around the stables; not exactly what she envisioned of them, but regardless, fighter-like enough!

Nervously gripping her oar conductor, Edelmira steadily intruded upon the meeting point, making herself known with each closer step. That, or her eye-catching, gold-white Church wear which were the comfiest garments she had. Under her arm held tight was a known children's fairy tale; one known for its simple adventure of brave heroes saving the world. Compared to the environment, her whole being stuck out like a sore thumb.

With an awe-filled stare plastered on, she glanced between each person out here. Then, she descended to them.

The first people she approached was the tall elf man and the jumpy, blonde girl right on him. Well, at the very least, she tried to approach them, stopping and veering away at the last second, just within arm’s reach of the two. Edelmira giggled to herself, just loud enough for them to hear (unintentionally); she’d seen a similar scene at the end of the storybook. It wasn’t her place to interrupt their "moment."

Instead, she waltzed over to the armored man who took notice of the couple, especially aimed at the elf man. Already, she knew what his deal was. With a beaming smile, she curtsied. "Pleased to meet you! May the Twin Swords bless us!" And she would have gone already to the next person, if only she didn’t decide to "warn" Hackel. Edelmira leaned towards him—barely getting closer to the man—to whisper, "You should let go of your feelings for her; they’re already smitten with each other!" Except, the whisper came as more of a shout; undoubtedly one that everyone could hear.

And in the next second, she scurried away.

Another child; she looked a bit older than her, if not a bit dirtier. Edelmira let off a soft sigh of relief before moving over to her. She curtsied. "Pleased to meet you! I wasn’t sure if there would be anyone else of similar age to me, so I was quite nervous before arriving." She gave a lighthearted chuckle, making sure to cover her mouth with the back of her hand—as nobles tend to habitually do. "I hope we can get along, and may the Twin Swords bless us!"

Just as before, Edelmira haphazardly hurried away, having laid eyes on one of the more notable people on this journey.

She stopped in front of Anselm, curtsying. "You're the Hilt’s brother, correct?" she began, tossing away formalities unlike with the others. Contrary to whatever impression he had of others having on him, her eyes shimmered with nothing but sheer reverence. "I’ve heard a lot about her but I never thought I would have the pleasure nor honor of meeting her brother!"

Tucking the oar between her free arm, Edelmira lifted her bag around, reaching inside. "I wasn’t certain what kind of gift you would have preferred…" She grinned brighter when she grabbed the box. "I felt that silverware would be tedious for you to carry around, and any food I acquired would have gone bad by now, so I settled on this!" The item revealed itself, Edelmira watching for his reaction… to the completely normal silver necklace that can be found pretty much anywhere in Opol. Not that she knew, having received it as part of her sister’s many gifts.
 
Anselm felt his face flush with embarrassment from being caught, of course this had to be the time when they decided to show up. He rubbed the back of his neck, chuckling awkwardly at the first to show. He could still feel his stomach churning, he knew there was no way that his face wasn't displaying his discomfort. God this was worse than a hangover, speaking of alcohol, he could use some more. He meant to say something to the man, or presumably one(it was hard to tell under the armor), but he was focusing on not vomiting again.

Before he could manage to say something, a crude voice spoke, clearly one that was young as well. He wasn't one to judge about being young when he was not very old when he began to do 'adult' things, though an experienced adventurer would have still be preferable. At her comment about the other man he glanced, only now realizing the other's appearance. His eyebrows raised in surprise. 'fuck. the scabbards are going to kill me...' he shuddered at the thought. Who was to think that the Red Hook could be captured by a simple shity plan. Anselm shrugged it off, he wasn't a snitch(plus he had done his fair share of less than legal activities, he wasn't one to talk).

When the man bowed at him Anselm choked on his own spit. He had never, never been bowed to. Not even when he gained the title of hilt, not even when the head Scabbard forced himself to hand him the pin, not when he wore it, or when he spoke to the people. Not once. His head swam for a moment, did he know this guy? A new person came and began to talk to the man, Romulus Faenor, he knew that name. Where had he heard it. He felt his body go cold as he began to rack his memory. Never mind, it wasn't worth it. He blinked before beginning to laugh at the poor attempt at a bow. It reminded him of the servant who tried to curtsey at his sister and fell on top of her. The two of them were only children, the servant was the same age as him, he remembered his sisters laughing. His smile fell a little, it wasn't so funny when he had to watch them flogging the girl.

At the sudden mention of his sister he was brought back to reality, flinching out of his composer for a moment. How was he supposed to respond..? He couldn't remember the proper way, he knew there was one, it was on the tip of his tongue. He spoke before finishing that thought though, "Oh yah... She was uh, something..." he spoke. He stiffened at the gift, his face going blank. A necklace. He felt his hand move up and grip his choker painfully, angry marks appearing at the skin on his neck as he did so. Was this some type of fucking joke? She looked like a scabbard, or at least one in training by her age, how could she know..? Or did they set this up? They sent her here to screw with him. Maybe she didn't even know, maybe they lied and told her to bring some gift and gave her this. They knew exactly why. He felt anger eat away at him and before he knew what he was doing he slapped it out of her hands, the box falling, the jewelry laying in the mud.

"Is this some type of fucking joke?" he spoke, his voice lethal as he glared down at her, a face of pure anger and disgust displayed. Maybe silverware would have been a better choice...
Juju Juju The True Plague The True Plague AriAriAbabwa AriAriAbabwa Idea Idea Goonfire Goonfire
 
Body language told more tales than mere speech. Hackel could tell his bow caused surprise and discomfort. The poor boy likely never had people genuinely bow to him. However, it was the chuckle at Faenor’s phony display that brought much amusement. Beneath his helmet, the bounty hunter’s lips curled into a smirk.

What was wrong with this Scabbard girl, though? She was more bubbly than sparkling wine, and she couldn’t read the room to save her own life. “What...?” he answered hesitantly before she went on to give Anselm a gift. At first, he thought nothing of it, but the calm before the storm only made Hackel brace harder for the moment all hell broke loose.

And break loose it did. The stand-in’s reputation for uncouth behavior and a foul temper preceded him, though the Hook hoped it was hearsay. No such luck. He silently observed, fully prepared to hold back the enraged lad in case he decided to slap the girl next.

AriAriAbabwa AriAriAbabwa seasonedcat seasonedcat
 
Tiria & Siv seasonedcat seasonedcat AriAriAbabwa AriAriAbabwa Idea Idea The True Plague The True Plague Goonfire Goonfire CasualTea CasualTea
ready to go.jpgTiria's nose crinkled in disgust at the arrival of the noble. Just great, some highborn weasel was joining the quest. Every word that poured from his mouth made her feel like joining Anselem in his nauseousness. Nothing like a pretty noble talking pretty words to get pretty things. Still, something didn't shine so nicely. Did he just mention the rebellion? Was he some sort of supporter?

Her eyes narrowed and she had half the mind to turn tail now and save herself the headache of travelling with this fool, but was dumbstruck by the actions of the lady wearing hotpants on a cold day. Sitra was her name and... did she just bonk her head into his chest? A sneer made its way onto Tiria's face and she snickered behind her apple. This group really was something. The guy with the bloody cloak looked decent, but the rest looked like nothing short of monster chow. As for the knife ears, the world might be better for it.

As she looked them over, sizing up which of the four she could steal from in the middle of the night, she was approached by a child. In honesty, she didn't look too much younger than herself, probably a couple of years, but in terms of maturity there was decades of difference.

"Eh? Hey, what d'ya mean your age? I'm at least twenty!" Tiria lied with a scoff.

Before she could really say more, the girl had wandered off to pester the others. Just great, now a wide-eyed baby had joined. She tossed away the last of her apple. That happy-go-lucky attitude certainly wouldn't last very long, if it didn't kill her first. Judging by her robes and blessings she was from the church (how lovely) and her way of speech spoke of highborn. She watched her pull out a gift for Anselem, a cheap necklace. It was obviously not the greatest gift, but the reception was beyond Tiria's expectations.

Tiria burst out laughing, holding onto her sides. "Can't hold your liquor, and can't hold your temper. You're really something, Snowy! Ah, look at the poor kid, you've ruined her!"

She tried to contain her giggling, holding a gloved hand over her mouth. Little puffs escaped into the freezing air. "Hey, if he doesn't want it, I'll take it. Shame to waste a nice gift~."

She leaned down and picked up the necklace, dusted off the dirt and snow, and handed it back to the girl. "Here ya go, wouldn't want ya to lose it now. Name's Tiria by the way, since we're do the whole name thing. Better to get it over with now."

While it looked like a nice gesture, she really just wanted to get a closer look at the worth of the thing. Sadly, it was quite cheap, hardly worth stealing. But if the girl happened to lose it during the trip...


Back at the tavern, Siv watched the lady with a leering eye, his muscles tensing more and more as she got closer. He stopped chewing on the frying pan, jaws frozen in concentration as he waited to see what the lady would do. Slow, he rose to his paws.

In a quick movement, he made a dash to the side, bolting out the door and back out into the street, frying pan still firmly in his mouth. While he was quite fast, Yona could easily see him sprinting down the street towards the stables.

Tiria brightened up when she saw him running towards her. "Hey Siv, there you are! Good job, boy!"

Siv skidded to a halt and dropped the frying pan with a loud clang, startling some of the horses. Tiria jumped when she heard one snort beside her. "Oi! Watch it! And what's this? A frying pan?"

She picked it up, thumb and forefinger under her chin thoughtfully, mumbling, "Well, I guess we'll need to cook on the journey. And we did just get some nice meat..."

The dog panted loudly, sides heaving from his sprint. He sat down, looking at the party assembled around him as he waited patiently for his reward. He jumped up and caught the bread in the air as soon as Tiria tossed it to him and eagerly began to wolf it down, tail wagging. The little blue ribbon swayed with the movement.
 
After seeing the dog just take off in a sprint, Yona exclaimed as she chased after him. "He-Hey!" She chased it without saying anything to the tavern owner or his family as she bolted out the door to continue the pursuit. Though, on the way, she did pick up her cloak and put it on hastily as she ran after the dog. "Come back here!" She was a bit furious seeing how disobedient this mutt was. Well, disobedient to anyone else but very loyal to whoever owns him. She was going to have a thorough scolding prepared when she meets them. Though on the inside, she was crying a bit because she really wanted to eat some meat for breakfast.

Just as Siv was in the middle of wolfing down his reward bread, she turned a corner breathing somewhat heavily evident enough from her breath being visible in the cold frigid air. She also had slightly skidded into a stop when she got to the stables too. "You little mutt, give that pan... back." Yona demanded as she slowly looked up from the dog and at the odd... group. It looked like an assortment of random professions. Especially that there was obviously a paladin, a priestess, and the rest could be regarded as adventurers, though one of them looked like a noble of elven descent. It didn't really matter before she shook her head and shot a glare at the owner of the dog who was holding a pan. "Okay, that pan belongs to the tavern owner. I don't really care what's going on but I'd very like that pan back, please!" She said as she walked over to the group but kept her distance from them. They certainly didn't look like any average group. It looks like an adventuring party, but for what purpose? In any case however, if they needed a pan, they should buy one not steal one. She gave out hand anyway, expecting the owner the give her back the pan. Though as she did so, she also noticed the bread the dog was eating and thus her stomach growled just loud enough to be audible and noticeable. "Fuck.." She said to herself under her breath.
 

Act I​

Remnants of a lost past, Whispers of a bright future​

Frozen wind brushed against bare skin, arousing the senses enough to spur consciousness. Cold sand pressed against the scaled cheek of a young girl, arousing her from a deep slumber. Slowly her mind, like an old despondent clockwork lurched to life. Shakily, the half draconic child rose shakily to her feet. Cool, grey sand burrowed between bare toes, and clawed hands rose in balled fist to rub blurred vision away. Even with the blur of drowsiness swept from her vision, fuzzy distortion danced in her peripherals. The draconic girl looked down to her hands, finding her limbs were shaded in Dreary, dull greys. Inspecting herself further, she found herself in a simple, thin white sundress. The hem fluttered in the wind, caught in the chilled drifts that pushed gently against her face. To her side sat her only company, a blob of a shadow whos edges shimmered and danced across the dull, grey sand dunes. She brought a clawed hand to cover her eyes as a particular strong gust picked up the grains from the dunes and catapulted it loosely into her face. Her long locks fluttered formlessly with the pull of the air, its grey colorings flirting with strange black blobby shadows as the wind sent it aflutter. As the wind abated, the young girl lowered her arm and brought a bare foot up from the cool sand to begin her trek forward.

The young girl silently took in her surroundings as she trekked forward. A seemingly endless expanse of dull colored sand dunes stretched out before her, interrupted only by the occasional, pitch black silhouettes of dead trees blotting its surface. Above her sat a beautiful display of colorful stars and nebulae that populated the black blanket of sky above her. The girl couldn't help but to stare up in awe at the swirling symphony of color. She was so captivated by the display above that she failed to notice the approaching structure ahead of her.

"Beautiful, are they not?" A voice echoed through the young girls mind, ever changing in pitch and tone, breaking her from her trance. Her head snapped to the source of the mysterious voice. First, she was an imposingly large and chiseled dark skinned man with orange scars and runes arcing like a map across his body, next a beautiful young woman with striking blood red eyes and bleached pink hair, and next a corpse, flesh rotting and hanging off of the eyeless skull loosely, tattered robes barely hanging and sticking on the decaying flesh. The draconic child stepped back defensively, unnerved by the figure. "Do not fear us, child of the Watcher betrayed, Disciple of Forge of Days." With each syllable, the figures form shifted and changed, their voice with it. Despite the figures reassurances, fear burrowed its way into the heart of the young girl, and with a wordless breath, she turned and tried to break into a sprint. The mysterious form changing figure shook its head and snapped its fingers, causing an orange chain to whip out and wrap itself around the young girls exposed ankle. There was a distinct sizzle, and the girl opened her mouth in a soundless yelp of pain as the chain burned into her flesh, sending the would be fleeing child to the ground. The draconic child clawed desperately into the cool sand, and more chains began to shoot out around her and wrap themselves around her body. A burning pain shot through the young child, sending her writhing and wordlessly crying as the chains burned into her flesh. For a few moments she fruitlessly struggled against the tightening chains, but was quick to give in to pain. She stared up at the beautiful, starry sky as her senses once more left her, the chains dragging her slowly into the sand until it enveloped her, leaving her in darkness.

The chains melted away from her body, taking the sharp burning pains along with it, leaving her drifting aimlessly, senselessly through the air. She didn't know how long she remain in that dark void, but there was a distinct feeling of soft fabric against the bottoms of her forearms, of soft cushions against her back and beneath her. She was sitting somewhere, but where? She opened her eyes, wondering where her senses would take her next...

ALTERNE EMBER​

Frozen wind brushed against Alterna's skin, arousing her senses enough to spur consciousness. Frozen mud pressed against the side of her face, and a terrible chill sent aches through her whole body. A head splitting headache shot through her skull. Her eyes shot open, but were left with nothing more than infinite blackness, a sense the blind girl was well used to. Alterne shakily struggled to her feet, struggling against the weight of her waterlogged shawl. Her blood ran cold, and compulsively her body shook and rattled in a pitiful attempt to ward off the permeating chill in her body. As she collected herself, Alterne tried to remember the events of how she got here, in this freezing, muddy crevice. For a moment she stood in silent contemplation, shivering in the cold. She remembered the blistering cold wind against her patchy skin and scale face, the suction of the mud against her boots as she marched forward, the feel of cold rain bearing against her hooded shawl, the sounds of her own surprised cry as she slipped and fell, and finally the slam of something hard against her head as she hit the ground. And then, nothing. She reached a clawed hand up to feel the side of her head. A cold, sticky substance had encrusted itself into her scruffy hair and dried. Blood. Most of it had dried, but still the wound trickled blood and sent a shot of pain through her already aching head as she touched it. She would have to doctor it soon, but not now. She was close to civilization, if the faint smell of smoke was to be any indicator. She took a deep breath and tried to focus. She pushed the throbbing pain to the back of her mind and began to look for something inward. It didn't take long for her to find what she was looking for. A faint light, the only light in the blind girls dark world. She focused on the light, and it began to shimmer and sparkle. It vibrated in her mind and then shot out ahead of her, flying out and farther away, leaving a faint trail of sparkling lights behind it on the ground in front of her. The blind girl smiled and began once more along the muddied road, head cast downwards as she followed the thin bright line only visible to her.

Thirty minutes later Alterne was pulled from her thoughts as a soft voice of a sad sounding man echoed within her mind. "You need to keep going, child. Seven shall join you on your journey. You cannot trust them, child. Even if they seem kind, they will all eventually stab you in the back. Be prepared, Child." The melancholic voice, while it didn't belong to her, it was by no means unfamiliar. It has been with her for as long as she could remember, and while she hadn't the faintest clue what it was or why she could hear it within her own mind, she knew it to be trustworthy. "One hundred feet away. Mind the building, Child." It finished, before disappearing from the tangle of her mind. Alterne came to a stop right in front of the tavern and with a deep breath, pulled the hood of her muddy, blood spattered shawl over her hood and tredged her worn boots through the mud slowly around the tavern and to the group at the stables behind. Alterne readjusted the intricately patterned blindfold on her face then nervously brushed a bit of mud and soot off of the leather armor that fit her small, lithe form. Still, mud coated her body, especially on her right side where she had fallen in the mud the night before. A scaled orange tail swished and slithered across the ground behind the girl, an obvious indication of the girls Animal Folk heritage. Upon her waist, a pair of intricate white manacles rattled and shook as she walked, the small amount of chain between them swishing freely at her hip. She moved at a tired shamble, hunched over and weighed down by exhaustion and the heavy bag around her shoulder. Slowly she shambled her way into the crowd, hooded head cast downwards and clawed hands held stiffly at her sides. Bandages wound themselves tightly up from her wrists up to halfway up her forearms, soaked in old dried blood.

Suddenly, there was a rush of wind as a woman rushed past the blind girl, causing Alterne to gasp and stumble to the side out of the way. "Ah! S-Sorr..." Alterne stopped herself when she heard the woman talking to someone else, something about a frying pan. Alterne was happy to let the other woman pass by and ignore her, so she simply righted herself quickly and walked as quickly as she could past the other woman and to the back of the group.

CasualTea CasualTea @likeeveryoneelse
 
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  • Sitra​
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    Mr. Faenor either didn't notice or didn't mind where my head was going, which contrary to my initial worries turned out to just be his chest. His clothes felt silky and comfortable, like lying down on something between expensive drapes or a carpet. I snuggled my face a bit against it for a moment given how comfy it was, until I realized it was probably not the best idea.

    "Shouwry!" I mumbled, voice muffled by the clothes still on my face. I straightened out my back while Mr. Faenor explained that I actually didn't need to bow to him or anything. Awww, what a sweet guy! I chuckled a bit, looking back my mistake did seem a tad silly, you know, for several reasons. "So that's how it works around here. Thanks! Sorry about that. Hehehe..."

    There was an unfamiliar voice giggling next to me, a girl who turns out had joined us while I was greeting mr. Faenor. She was even younger than the orange-eyed girl (oh wait, turns out the orange-haired girl was actually 20 or something? Older than she looked to be sure then), and seemingly knew the guy in armor given the way she went up to whisper something to him, before going to greet that boy related to that Hilt person. Ok, I guess even I would blush a bit at that sequence of events. It was probably for the bets if I didn't think about it too deepl-

    Slap​

    My eyes followed the little pendant flying off the girl's hands after that sound. the world seeming to a near silence as my attention was focused on the tiny piece of silver on a collision course with the mud. It dripped into it, sinking like a carriage stuck in a marsh. I still well-recalled this feeling that made everything appear to be slower the shock that dragged a few moments past the initial splatter, as the taint continued to cover the shiny metallic surface. Many thoughts ran and jumbled in my head, or perhaps they were just sensations or emotions because I couldn't make out what any of them were in the mess, nor form a single word after the boy's anger-filled accusation.

    Then, the laughter started.

    I had a bad feeling about how the orange-haired girl was saying those things. It just felt way too mocking and mean-spirited. Why'd she have to say it like that? My hands were clutched together and my eyes were darting around for answers from the other's reactions, but there wasn't much to speak of yet and we somehow had gone straight to a terrible atmosphere. Picking up the gift, returning it alongside her self-introduction as Tiria, it didn't help at all.

    "Eh? Eh? What's going on?" I inquired. I fidgeted in place though my fidgets were quite expressive, and my hands would just go towards anyone who seem to join the conflict, like an imaginary gesture of getting in their way. Then, as if things weren't already quite confusing enough, a dog came back carrying a frying pan straight to Tiria, followed by a swordswoman who claimed said pan belonged to a tavern owner, and demanding it be returned. Could it be? I shouldn't think that way just because of such a small coincidence but... Oh, it was! Rabber's father! "Uh? Hey, it's that man from the tavern isn't he? What is he doing here? Is it because of the frying pan? Or did something happen to Rabber after I left?"

    The man looked up, and many feelings seem to grow on his face, but anger seemed to win out in the end, as he declared, while exasparately panting and coughing:

    "I'm.... here... to...get... my pan... back... from... that thief." Then, he pointed towards Tiria.

    In the midst of it all, I didn't even notice a certain part-draconic girl sneaking into the group.



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The son took off up the stairs, rushing back to the main part of a tavern where the lady and his father remained in a stalemate with the dog. He slammed the door open, catching his father's attention but turning out to be the exact moment the dog took to make its escape from the lady threatening him. She immediately chased after the animal, and boy's father went after. Rabber in turned rush to the door as well and yelled out:

"There was a thief dad! A thief taking our food, who escaped through the window!" He warned.

"What?!" Aaah, just what he needed! When the owner heard about this, he redoubled his efforts, sprinting forward with renewed intensity and dreadful fervor. At the very least he wanted to catch up and get back his frying pan. The animal already cost him so much, why'd his hunches have to go and come true about there being someone else? In the end of the day, however, he wasn't quite up to the task of keeping up with that dog and the lady with the sword, being an old man who spends most of his this time preparing food and drinks inside a building all day. As he continued to lose ground, he took a big gulp of air in and began shouting: "SOMEONE STOP THAT DOG! SOMEONE STOP THAT ANIMAL, THAT THIEF!"

Of course, this kind of thing was followed by a violent cough. He kept running though, turning every corner and often losing sight of the pursuees but catching back up due to people's reaction to the two of them. By the time the dog finally stopped, the lady went ahead and demanded the return of the tavern owner's property, something for which he would be quite thankful if not for him being currently bent down over himself, one hand in each knee panting with great difficulty whilst feeling close to puking after exerting himself so much, not to mention the shaking and bone pain.

"Uh? Hey, it's that man from the tavern isn't he? What is he doing here? Is it because of the frying pan? Or did something happen to Rabber after I left?"

The voice was quite familiar, leading the tavern owner to raise his head: There was a number of adventurers here gathered, or so he presumed given being right next to the stables and the rather varied group of individuals, from the way they dressed to their species and even who they seemed like in general... Then, amongst that girl that helped his son out that morning, as well as a different girl currently petting the dog, eating stolen food and holding the stolen frying pan. His voice was broken between the panting and the coughing. "I'm.... here... to...get... my pan... back... from... that thief."

He pointed right at Tiria with a glare.


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Faenor hadn't noticed that Sitra was gonna end up face in his chest to him. Although he did his best to suppress his annoyance, he's sure something like anger was just on the edge of the horizon. His face was so warm, same with the tips of his ears. How dare she just presume to snuggle her face against his robes? Does the concept of personal space not exist? He's sure his fae, or at least his ears, are just red with anger.

"There is no need to apologize, although I do appreciate and accept your apology. Accidents happe-" He turned his gaze towards Edelmira, his face growing slightly more red as he spluttered at the end of his sentence. Fucking... What?! As if he'd be smitten with a clumsy human. This is real life, not fantasy. The poor girl doesn't get swept off her feet by a noble. That's just not how things worked. Especially not right after they meet! If he didn't have a soft spot for children, he'd perhaps be angrier. Instead, he took a few steady breaths, shaking his head. "Accidents happen."

Next thing he knew, the foolish girl had tried to give a necklace to the stand in Hilt. What an absolutely stupid gift to give to someone you just met. You don't know their wardrobe, you don't know their preferences in metal types or gemstones. At best, it may be something they wear every once in a while. At worst, they may have to get an outfit to match the necklace, or appear ungrateful by not wearing it. Anselm seemed to be going the latter route, and Faenor felt smug in that it was indeed a human who lost their cool first. Bound to happen, filthy monkeys get easily excited. Bet they'll be brawling in the streets like a bunch of drunks soon enough.

At the very least, like a drunk, one of the humans that were here when he got here started laughing over the incident occurring. Sure, it was a funny situation, but not something to mock in the moment. Furious people tend to be the same kind who will turn on you for a perceived slight. He doubts this one will last long in a group environment. All the better, the less humans, the better. They've done nothing but cause problems so far.

Speaking of humans and problems, here comes another one! Running up came another human woman, who had appeared to be chasing the dog with the pan. What da dog doin'? Crimes, apparently. His brow would raise slightly, glancing at Tiria and her mutt. Great, thieves. He'll make sure to secure his things before he'd go to bed. Last thing he needs is to lose Snapdragon, or any supplies he secures for the group. Speaking of supplies, he rolled his eyes as the newcomer's stomach growled. Great, someone missed breakfast. He'd offer monetary compensation, but he didn't feel like paying for the party's mistakes this early. At least get a C in his support levels first.

Don't think he didn't see you, weird lizard person! You may be as quiet as a salamander, and hide away. That's fine, just know you were seen, and judged. The judgement is you suck at skin care, look at those scales. Sad and deplorable. He didn't see a need to speak to her yet, given the whole situation.

"Anselm, I'm sure this was simply a poor decision on her behalf. She seems to be a bit naive to the world." Faenor would address this first. It'd do no good for his reputation if he did get in good with the stand in Hilt over this adventure, if Anselm ruins his own reputation by smacking up children and girls. Then he looks like a monster supporting such actions. "She more than likely gave a gift that she's seen others happy to receive, or one that she thought looked nice." He hoped that was the case anyways. Honestly fruits were a better gift if you didn't know the person. No one is above a nice fruit.

He side eyed Hackel, just to ensure that the man hasn't made any moves towards him. This isn't a good group of people in his eyes. He didn't really like any of them off the bat, besides maybe Sitra. Ignorant buffoon she may be, but at least she was friendly. Edelmira was naive, too much so to the point of irritation. Tiria was a thief. Siv was a crime dog. That animal folk is barely above an actual animal in his eyes. The Hilt stand in was easily spurred to violence. Hackel was daring to exist. Oh, and then there's this woman who chased after the dog, so now there could be legal troubles. Hmm... Risk legal troubles, or suffer his pride a bit by paying for this?

With a sigh, Faenor removed a pouch from his belt, tipping it over slightly. So much jingling and clinking, but slowly he counted out a good twenty gold. "Will this be enough to cover the issue, sir?" Better this then potentially being caught out as a Mage here after getting into legal trouble. He preferred no torture, personally. He looked to the tavern owner, a slight smile on his face. "Surely, this could cover a pan, and we could all move on with our days with this generous gift?"

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The girl practically mirrored Anselm with how much she paled. Once the necklace flew from her grasp, it was as if he slapped the chipper smile away, too. She stood in front of him, frozen in place with color drained from her normally bright pupils. Tiria's laughter came as a muffled boom, constantly ringing closer and closer, making Edelmira finally move, even if it were only her arms that budged. They crossed over, tightly grabbing each other as Edelmira hunkered her head down, too; a drop down the longer the laughs went. The rest of Tiria's words were lost on her ears, up until she was right over the location of the slapped necklace.

Her head steadily turned to Tiria, looking at the closely-aged girl like she was the only one she could cling to. "T-Thank you..." Her first words came out choked and faint when the necklace returned to her hands, though rattling with how much she shook. Despite Tiria's cackling, this small act of "kindness" proved to be a small warmth. Edelmira turned one more time to Anselm, bowing as far as she could go. "I-I'm sorry… I-I'll be good..."

She took a few wobbly steps away from the Hilt, gravitating towards the other girl. "Tiria...?" she repeated. Right. Be kind. Be kind... Edelmira scurried a few steps away, then spinning around to offer another curtsy; the one thing she didn't shake upon doing. "I'm M-Mira Ise o-of Edel... no, wait..." She bit her tongue, cursing herself for the string of mess ups. The Hilt was upset because of her. She did wrong by him, bringing her own sister's necklace off her stuffed animal and thinking it suitable... Now she couldn't even introduce herself correctly. It was all going so well beforehand...

The moment her eyes blurred, Edelmira wiped her arm across, blinking away the remaining water. "I'm sorry for being rude," she muttered. "I'm Edelmira Ise of Opol... Pleasure to—"

"Anselm, I'm sure this was simply a poor decision on her behalf. She seems a bit naive of the world."

Edelmira spun around at the elf man, who'd taken to the Hilt after her disastrous attempt at greeting. Something about the way he said it left a bad taste in her mouth. She didn't know what it was, but she didn't like him calling her things she didn't know. She took a few steps towards the man—occasionally turning back to check that she didn't wander too far from Tiria—until she was sure he could hear her ask, "What does 'naive' mean? Is it bad...?" If it was bad, she looked like she might've just trembled then and there.

In the same token that she left on her own, Edelmira hadn't yet noticed the fluffy dog, nor the middle-aged man running after it and accusing Tiria of theft.
 
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Anselm's head was filled with static and his lungs felt like they were going to explode from pressure. Rage gripped at his brain tightly as fear and regret swam inside him. He closed his eyes, brushing off everything that continued to flash before him and took a deep breath. His hands shook with rage but once he caught the look on the girl's face he felt shame well inside him. Could it really be an innocent gift? He let his hands dropped to his side as he turned on his heels, nodding numbly to the voice that spoke his name. He needed to get ahold of himself or he wasn't going to make it long outside this capital.

He breathed once more, looking at the tavern owner, "Does this deal with your issue with one of the Hilt's honored guests? Or do you require farther compensation?" he asked, ignoring the way his worlds wobbled slightly when he first spoke. "If that is everything we must disembark now, we are already behind." he spoke, trying to act as if he knew what he was saying and doing, "there are horses here for everyone along with 3 donkeys with supplies, anything you wish to not carry on your own horse you can place there." he spoke, repeating the words that had been told to him last night by one of the Blades who had finished setting up their steads and supplies for the trip.

He casually mounted a white stead, his movements far from that of a noble and rather looked similar to a peasant mounting a donkey they have had all their life. There were other horses stationed nearby, others in the stable, all belonging to the group. The sun was beginning to rise in the sky and soon most citizens would begin to wake and the streets would once again flood with life. He breathed in the scent of horse shit and mud, feeling himself relax at the familiar scent of the city, or well the superior side of it(poor side). Before facing the others and awaiting their mounting.
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ready to go.jpgTiria's eye twitched when she heard the woman's voice behind her. A crisp bite of irritation swept over her, but she made sure to hide it when she turned around casually.

"Eh? This pan? It's mine, given to me by my sweet old nan before she passed. I was just on my way to the smithy to get it all shined up." She held up the pan, though out of reach, to let the woman see the clear degradation of the cutlery. "You're not even the tavern owner. Even if it wasn't my pan -- which it isn't -- what if this is just some trick to steal it for yourself!? Hmm? Maybe you're the pan thief!"

Siv happily chewed on the tough hunk of break, oblivious to the current conversation.

While Tiria had a little fun with the story, she scanned the vicinity for an easy get away. It only then occurred to her that the whole 'being a part of an adventure party' was counter intuitive to running away from store owners. Unless she doubled back, and let Snowy handle things, just as he had handled the fee at the inn.

To add insult to injury, Tiria waved nonchalantly at the flustered tavern-keeper when he arrived. "Oh, so you're the owner... ah, it makes sense now. Are you sure you're not seeing things, old man? Don't worry, there's nothing wrong with being a little senile, heh."

She grinned devilishly, which shifted into a look of confusion when the snippy richman covered the fee. Tiria gave him a suspicious look, wondering why he would bother. Either his coin grew like weeds, or he was an idiot. A bribe for a pan could have costed him way less in this neck of the woods. Then again, the rich never passed up an opportunity to flaunt their wealth.

Alas, if anything it did show her where he kept his coin, and the movement within let her know just how heavy the purse was. A few wouldn't be missed. She gave the tavern keeper a salute and pedalled back towards the horses, Siv trotting behind. "You heard Snowy, we've gotta keep going. Daylight's a' bleeding."

A horse shook its head, making her finch back with a start. Right... she had to get on one of these brutes. Cursing it under her breath, she shuffled over to the donkeys and found a bag to place the pan in. If it was any other day, she would have thrown the pan in the gutter, but the fuss that had been caused over it had increased its value dramatically. Sometimes, money and value were different things.
 
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Well, it sure seemed like they had their own kind of mess going on here right now. Even as a new arrival, the owner could tell there was some kind of tension or awkwardness in the group at that moment. Some girl in the Scabbard's attire had this really downtrodden look, and even after he'd arrived with what he would later recall as a rather 'shocking' claim the silence wasn't easily broken through. Not by anyone except of course the one person who could drive him to clench his fists and his teeth in that situation, ah if he's son were to see him now, doing exactly what he told him not to do?

"Senile? I may not exactly be a youngling here, but last I checked 'seeing things' doesn't make my property start breaking into a riot and take off with my utensils!" His angry gaze faced the rest of the group. "The lady that was coming after the dog as well is here too, so I'm sure you've all seen it, you know that damn mutt came running here with my pan. I'm sure you've seen it- or is this some band of th-"

Fortunately perhaps for the party, perhaps for the man's well-being, Faenor stepped in and offered him a rather graceful sum, deposited in a bag right into the flabbergasted man's hands.

"Enough? I well, I mean..." There was a grin in between the frowns, if momentary. "It sure is a fair amount. But that was still my favorite pan. I've had since my wife and I went on our honeymoon, and I have never cooked anything on it that didn't get me some praise at least. To just part with it some gold... but indeed, it is a rather... well, you know...an amount to be sure."

Anselm pressed the matter, putting the man on the spot by asking whether it was enough to solve the issue for him or not.

"I suppose, but at the very least I'd like an apo... h-hilt?! The hilt? Did you, are you...?" the man's eyes widened, he began taking a few steps back. "A-a-ah you know, it really wouldn't do for me to be away so long when we're supposed to open... ahaha... I'll just be, ah bda, I'll be taking this and leaving. I'm terribly sorry for the inconvenience, do forgive me for being rude!"

The man swallowed, seeming to push down his throat, but before giving a slight nervous nod and taking off as fast as he could without actually running.

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  • Sitra​
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    That poor girl in the robes was hugging herself it looked like, and melancholically meandering over to that Tiria girl, whom she thanked (or at least it kind of sounded like a thank you, it was a bit hard to hear).The girl was shaking all over, but still trying to greet people, and I raised a hand towards her without any words coming out of my mouth because I didn't know what kind of words should. If only mom was here... No, no I couldn't think about it that way! Its not like expected to be able to do everything by myself of course, but at the very least I should rely on the people here instead of someone who was (hopefully) far far away.

    That person, it turns out, was Faenor, who came to the rescue. I nodded vehemently in response to his words.

    "Yeah, yeah he's right! She just made a mistake!" I agreed, though I still felt a little tug of embarrassment on my chest and my face when he mentioned how that girl was a bit "naive to the world". Despite knowing it wasn't about me, I couldn't help thinking it very well could've been, were circumstances just a little different. "She didn't mean anything bad by it. Right, right?"

    I glanced at Mira, then at Faenor, and then passed gaze across the other people observing the situation. Then, just as things seemed to start getting a bit better and the boy nodded to Faenor, the whole frying pan incident began.

    Tiria didn't take well to the accusations it seemed, throwing them right back while claiming the pan was actually hers. The tone of her voice sure didn't make it seem like it, and it was weird that the dog brought it instead of the girl bringing it herself, not to mention what she said earlier which didn't make it seem like she expected it, but then again it was true that we didn't know if the other one was innocent either. Not until the actual tavern owner, Rabber's father, arrived that was. The argument escalated as the orange-eyed girl effectively called the owner a senile old man, which clearly set him off from the way he was speaking. I took a couple steps towards him, my hands seeming to wonder in random directions as if trying to figure out some position that would magically be better to solve this situation.

    "Uh uh, M-Mister I understand, but please calm down. And Tiria, maybe you could return his frying pan?"

    Once again, however, Faenor was the one that presented the more practical and quick solution, attempting to bribe the tavern owner out of his frying pan. Was it me or was this guy really amazing? I heard from neat things about elves, but I didn't think they would be this generous and helpful! Plus he was kind and polite too! The tavern owner still didn't seem too eager to just receive the money though, until our to be-leader added his own voice to the mix. An unmistakable air of terror filled the man who quickly parted without any more fuss. With him gone now, my attention shifted to the other person who came after the dog, and was unfortunately left behind. I look at meat a spike, the one still leftover from the ones gifted to me due to my help earlier in the day.

    "Here, have this!" I approached that girl and presented the meat to her. I gave her a wide smile. "You were trying to help him right? That was really kind of you. You even sounded kind of hungry and were running on top of that... so hey, it's gone a little cold by now, but it's still cooked meat. It's yummy if the others I ate were anything to go by. Wait...is that... magic? "

    I leaned over and somewhat near her blade, without attempting to touch it of course, but still consumed by curiosity as I could observe that same familiar orbiting flow that I sensed from the weapons I myself enchanted. Well, it wasn't quite the same, but it was close enough that I could vaguely tell what it was that I was looking at: An enchanted weapon.

    "It is! It is an enchan-" I covered my mouth with both hands, realizing that I was about to- nah I probably already outted this person as a mage to anyone paying attention. Just in case I didn't massively screw up, I whispered the next part. "Sorry, I couldn't help myself. But you're carrying around an enchanted sword... not like any sword I've ever seen though, so long and kind of uh curved? But it's got a sheath so it's got to be a sword right? Are you here to join the expedition party too? Since mages and swords people and such were supposed to gather for it... "

    After that, with the matter of the tavern owner having been dealt with, the Alselm called for us to hurry up and depart. The most important part, however...

    "Horses? We get to RIDE the horses?" I almost immediately broke off my attempts to whisper, unable to contain the joy and excitement plastered on that big wide open-mouth grin on my face. I resisted the urge to take a huge leap of excitement, compromising with a tiny little jump and hurriedly going into the stables themselves to pick out a horse for my own. I felt a type on my shoulder, and this person covered in armor pointed to one of the shorter horses. Armored person's look was kind of sour, almost angry, an explained they overheard what I said and that a "sprout like me ought to take that horse or else I'd be on the ground before we left the city". So basically, they were telling what horse was good for me.

    Well, it wasn't like I even knew how to pick one, so I thanked the person and moved along.

    "Now how do I even... " I looked around. People seemed to be putting their foot on the suspended piece of metal on the horse's side, and pushing themselves up by pulling with their arms from the horse's back. The animal moved a bit, but it was docile enough that I managed to pull myself up (good thing I was decently good at stretching though), and soon as I knew it I was laying down on its mane with a leg on each side. My backpack was huge, but deceptively light though that didn't much help me in terms of my inability to be in a totally straight position while riding the horse.

    ...

    "Eh, I'll figure something out eventually. Ok, do your thing horse. I'm counting on you!"

    And so I sat there, waiting for the horse to move.



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The mutt's owner was a child. She's literally a child. The very behavior was just childish and it was starting to tick off Yona, even more so because she was hungry. Just as she was about to speak, the tavern owner showed up. She kept her composure and let the old man and the kid... Talk it out. Even though it was really annoying to just watch. Right before she was about to step in to handle this bickering, the elf had pretty much bribed the old man for the pan. She didn't exactly know how to feel about it, especially when the old man was telling the group about his sentimental attachment to it. However, she did see the slight grin at the sight of money. Apparently the pan didn't mean much and he was just throwing up words to make the pan even more valuable than it already was.

And then the boy spoke which filled the man with terror and a whole new impression for Yona. This kid is a Hilt? That's not a simple title. Nothing about it was simple nor ordinary. To compare, the Hilt was practically a type of leader or even hero of the people. What is this Hilt doing with this ragtag of people? We have a petty thief and her mutt, a rich elf who has to be a noble... That's enough, the general idea is there. If the Hilt rounded up a group of individuals with very different backgrounds, this has to be some sort of party for a quest and it wasn't just any quest. Especially if the Hilt is also included. She wanted to ask the Hilt more but it already seemed like he was pressed for time. There was really nothing she could do to ask him or anyone for anything about that matter. That was until one of the others started speaking to her.

Not only was she speaking to her, she gave her some cooked meat. Even though its gotten cold, it's pretty much free. But she didn't want to just take the meat and not give anything back. She had to refuse the meat and pay at least something for it. "Hey, uh thank you for the meat but I must-"

She was cut off when the girl began taking interest in her sword which made her tuck it a bit further into her cloak, but to no avail. But to her surprise, she was able to tell it was an enchanted weapon and that it contained magic. This girl had to be an enchanter of some sort. A weapons enchanter? A weaponsmith? She definitely has to align with that sort of profession. She didn't really say much else but nodded to help the girl confirm her accusations that it was a sword she was carrying. Though, she wasn't surprised that she had never seen a sword like hers before. The design was definitely from out of the continent as well as the method. Though, it was a little tricky because there was a combination of ore and minerals used in the blade to make it special. It also had a special engraving inside of it too so it can conduct magic better for her.

Soon however, the Hilt boy mentioned that there were horses for everyone and donkeys to hold whatever supplies that would hinder their journey. The girl was obviously overly excited to ride a horse, though from the looks of it... It didn't look like she knew how to ride one. It sort of worried her a bit. She still also had the piece of cooked cold meat. Due to her morals and to just give her a peace of mind that this girl would be fine, Yona decided to go along with them. She picked one of the horses that wasn't prepared and didn't have a saddle ready just to be courteous of the others who were definitely picked for this quest and thus sufficient preparations were made for them.

She also had to make sure the horse was will so she did stroke its neck a bit to tell it that she was friendly. Once she mounted the horse by jumping up and sitting herself gently on its back, it did start jumping a bit, being startled and all from not being used to someone mounting it without a saddle. She quickly stroked its neck and patted it lightly to tell it that it was her. It calmed down shortly after which made her let out a sigh of relief. At least this horse was now being cooperative. She also began eating the piece of meat that was given to her. She was about to get some rope from her little back pack but she decided to just steer the horse using its mane. It's not the first time she's ever done that.

She now waited on the others without saying anything, but was just worried for the girl who seemed like she didn't have any experience with horses. She was also a little worried for the girl with Scabbard clothing and the other one who looked to have dragon-like traits. Did they know how to ride horses? She obviously didn't care much for the thief or her mutt. They'll probably figure something out. They'd probably just end up on a horse together considering how strong a bond they share. The plan was just to follow the group anyway and owe them a favor. Especially if that favor is from the weaponsmithing girl. Her or the Hilt's.
 

Alterne Ember​

"Mercy", Saith the Watchman, "is found only in shadow."​
A cacophony of sound and smell surrounded the filthy animal born. Chaos filled her ears, and the rancid smells of the barn mingled with the wisps of magical essence that emanated from the party around her. Every person, every living being had a magical profile. Alterne could strangely smell that magic, it reminded her of the smell of heavily rusted iron normally, but every person had a different magical energy to them, and the more trained a persons magic, the more diverse a smell profile it had. The barrage of unique smells that came off of some of the people in the group caused the girls nose to crinkle, and drew a sharp breath from her. It all was enough to overwhelm her, sending her mind aflutter with dread and panic. She kept to herself, though, and tried her hardest to hide her inner turmoil from the group. To calm herself, she drew her breath and focused in once more on the small light she held onto in the inky depths of her vision. The world slowed around her as she whispered to herself, calling out for guidance. Once more it shimmered and it sparkled, then it began to unfurl in front of her, a trail, albeit a short one. "Steel yourself, child, but do not worry. I have seen this all before. I will show you what to do. What to say." The voice of the melancholic man rang through her head once more, helping to calm her nerves. Slowly, she stirred from her statue like stature and took a few hesitant, stiff steps forward, carefully following the thin path shown to her.

It seemed she was approaching a horse, no more than that. A mounted horse. One woman was atop the horse, if the feminine voice of the rider was to be trusted. A tight feeling formed in Alterne's chest as she approached, a nervousness manifesting in the way of stiff movements and nervous fidgeting. The woman seemed to be calming the horse she rode as Alterne approached, and the draconic girl couldn't help but note the smell of thunder mixed into her magical scent. "E-Excuse me." She mumbled to the mounted Yona. The dirt covered animal-kin rubbed her bandaged wrists nervously and kept her head tilted to the floor, hiding her face the best she could beneath her hood. "I'm... I come to you both honored and humbled. My abilities are lacking, and my erm... Complications have brought me here... to um... you. I am filled with shame at what I am to ask, but still I shall ask. If it is not to offend you, I ask that I may accompany on your horse since um... I-I can't see. Makes horse riding.... um... yeah." She basically whispered, her voice just loud enough to be comprehended. She shrunk in on herself, and turned her head to the side as if bracing herself to be struck. "I'm sorry." She quickly squeaked out, holding clawed hands clasped together at her chest. The young girl was pitiful at the foot of the horse, covered in filth and bandaged in old blood crusted cloth. Her bag was much to big for her, and the strain it brought on her was obvious. It didn't even seem she was armed, leading one to wonder why she was here in the first place.

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