IC RP


Azalea 
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Location: Zael-Arlan border


Azalea hesitantly lowered her bow, still keeping it loaded. Azalea ignored the mans comment if being "reasonable" she would simply rather not die, if she had to raise an arrow to another, so be it. She raised her eyebrows as he says "The Inquisition" she had read up on them, she found them quite interesting actually. She exchanged glanced at the the man with the crossbow. Would he speak up about his heritage first? She stared at him for a moment. She opened her mouth and closed it. Then opened it again and hesitantly spoke "I'm Azalea...princess of Zael." Azalea stared at the crossbow man, now it was his turn. 


@Shireling @Lorkhan @Yesterday
 

Wiglaf
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Wiglaf's face grew dark. The Princess of Zael. Why here in Arian? In the wilderness? One answer stood out to Wiglaf. 


"I must confess, I am not an Arlanian." Wiglaf said, slinging the crossbow around his shoulder and letting it hang by the leather strap. "I am a royal guardsman of the King of Gothia." Again, a lie, but a more convincing one. "I was sent as a runner to ask the Arlanian king to send aid to Gothia, as we have been assailed violently by the Shades. Castle Svinsen was sacked not a week ago.." 
 
Location: Arlan, near the border of Zael


Arkady's eyes widened when he heard the girl's identity, his face turning beat red, both with anger and humbling. He was in the presence... Of a princess. A princess of the same kingdom that stole his father from him... He reached for his dagger hastily, turning around the tree to attack the girl, despite being in the presence of 2 other men, one being between him and the girl, and the other being a military commander. Though, he quickly realized his mistake and moved back as quickly as possible, stumbling back and tripping over his own feet, landing on his back and knocking the wind out of him. He left his hand on his dagger, half drawn, as he winced and gasped for air.
 
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The man wanted to separate from the other for one reason or another. Iris could sense there was distrust between the two, and kept her guard up as well. She knew nothing about the man named Varren, and very little information besides being a man that lived in the forests around Gothia who says to be from Vorch. From the soldier, he told her about his knowledge of both her country and the one he claims to hail from. Confusion still clouded her mind on why two Vorch men were in Gothia territory, black cloud of death or not.


The soldier then said something she had dreaded since she began her masquerade as a hunter. His name. Blast it! And even more frustrating, he asked for hers in return. Don't you know you shouldn't go giving something and expecting something in return?! A wasted thought, she knew, because it was so common among humans to work this way. Iris also noted that he only gave his first name. Inir. She couldn't place where she had heard the name, but it was very much from Vorch. She was pretty sure now that the soldier was telling the truth: he was in fact from Vorch. 


But a name of her own? How much do you know about Erisdar? She thought to herself. Would he recognize her name? Did he already suspect? Was it safe to tell this soldier who she was? No. That secret she would continue to keep. It wasn't safe for people to know her name. What if the monsters from the night before came back and demanded her in exchange for their lives? What if they agreed? Definitely not. She was safer as an unknown hunter than as who she was truly. That doesn't help me think of a name. She had to think quick, her eyes on Inir and then his horse. "My name is Hazel," she said, thinking of her horse back home. Who knew what had happened to the poor beast. She hoped its death was swift and painless, for the beast need not suffer as her family and her people had.


She followed after him in the direction he went, now repeating the name in her mind over and over. I have to remember that my name is Hazel.
 
Damon Salderris
Near the Arlan-Zael border
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@DarknessSpirit @Shireling @Yesterday

The Princess of Zael?  Damon thought with genuine surprise. Then it was as he feared. Zael had already gone the way of Arlan, and now Gothia as well, if the crossbowman was to be believed. With a solemn expression, Damon turned to the messenger . "You are too late, then. The King is dead, as is the rest of his family. The military does not exist anymore." With that, he scabbarded his sword. He was hesitant to do it of course, especially since the Princess still had an arrow nocked and ready to draw, but ultimately he decided that her guard had been sufficiently lowered. "Now, I don't mean to pry, good sir, but may I ask what you are doing this far north of the country? You were only supposed to deliver a message to the capital, yes?" Before the other man could have a chance to speak, yet another person came tumbling out of the bushes, this time in a more literal sense. A bearded man with dark shaggy hair and clothes more befitting of a vagabond laid flat on his back, his hand gripping a half-sheathed dagger. "Oh please, tell me there aren't any more vagrants galavanting about in the woods." Damon groaned as he marched over to pull him to his feet. "Now, who are you then?"
 

Azalea 
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Location: Zael-Arlan border 


Azalea's heart seemed to come crashing down as the crossbow man mentioned the kingdoms befalling, disappointment and loss shown on her face. "Zael fell last night." Azalea said softly and solemnly. Not only was Arlan gone but Gothia as well. Azalea felt as if someone had given her a blow to the chest. Azalea listened to Damon. He was right of course, if he was simply a royal guardsman why head so far north. But he also hadn't said his name. "Great scott!" Azalea exclaimed as a ruckus sounded from her right, she turned and she raised her bow at the man on the ground, who wielded a dagger in his left hand. Her aim didn't falter as Damon helped the man up, still aiming past Damon and at the man with suspicious eyes. Why did he wield a dagger? And why was he eavesdropping?


@Shireling @Lorkhan @Yesterday
 
Location: Arlan-Gothia border. Lake area


He had finally made it to his destination where he knew he would seek refuge. He knew this area well for this was his play area for hunting. He could be there for days with lake water and fish and the forest provided wood. The hollow caves provided able shelter and the wildlife were plentiful, the perfect hideout. By now the smoke had cleared to meet whisper as he made his way collecting sticks. 


He was starving. He was only surviving on the last meal he had and was desperate for a morsel. Perhaps he'll find a rabbit and roast it. The thought made his mouth water with lust. 


No, he had to make shelter. With the sticks he gathered, he walked into the cave of his hunting den. In it would be a rather moist but liveable area. Mats played the ground with woolen army blankets. Outside was barren from the wood they had cut to build this masterpiece. A small fence was built around the area and watchtowers were made in case something approached whilst they hunted. It was in the middle of the forest and so it was easy to get lost and was far from the road. 


He wondered if he'll have to live out his days in the den. Perhaps he'll find Inquisition members, they'll know what's happened. 


Robert dumped the sticks on the fire pit. It wad his hearth and the cave was his keep. His first ruling to his subjects were to survive. But to survive he needed food. And the food was in the forest. With that, he gripped his bow that was slung on his shoulders and walked, leaving a trail of whatever he could find behind him.
 
Location: Arlan, near the Zaen border


Arkady saw the man walking over to him, and he Princess taking aim on him, and fluidly got to his feet, slipping his dagger from it's sheath in the motion. He tilted the dagger forward, a gesture for the man to stop walking towards him. "He- Wait, Vagrant?" He glared a bit, and gripped his dagger. "I thought I looked nice today." The brunette man joked, as he ran his free hand through his hair, with a slick smirk on his face, making a point of making eye contact with the princess, with a suggestive head-nod, before focusing back on the man in front of him. "Now... I don't appreciate being called a vagrant, sir." He said quietly, and mysteriously, as he took a few paces forward, his smirk gone, replaced by a more serious, malicious frown, and overall expression.
 

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Magnus


Northern Region of Freidien


Closing his eyes, Magnus took in a mixtured scent of burning flames, dead corpses, and a bounty of a season's worth harvest. The aroma was very familiar to Magnus. It was hard to forget, least it was more difficult to rid of it. It almost seemed that everywhere he went, he was followed by that same distinguishable stench acting if it was a curse to something he had done in a past life. 


Is this how the gods repay me?


Opening his eyes again he watched silently as his men hauled in the spoils of war from under every house, rock, and craney. Nothing was being left behind. The village had been transformed into a battleground. Buildings collapsed, crops burned, animals slaughtered, and bodies scattered all over the street. Overall he was quite pleased with the results. During the first charge of the attack, they had swiftly dealt a serious blow to villagers with their Blitzkrieg tactic. The residents were completely oblivious of their presence and them consumed with a disorder of panic, fear, and most of all.. disorganization. Many ran into their homes hoping to avoid being a casualty while others dodged out of the way of the stampeding horses sprinting across. While most were already armed with weapons ready to defend their lands, his men overcame that factor due to the lack of real combat experience expressed in the defenders as well as the overwhelming numbers of his banner. The rest was easy from there. With the resistance disappeared, his men were free to pillage and murder to their maximum pleasure. He once never sought to limit them to any extent. This was war. The true victors chose what of it.


In the end, he was glad that he hadn't lost any of his men. Which was arguably the most important. He gave out a sigh of relief. His promises were fulfilled. As he continued watching, one of his lieutenants had walked over to give his report to him. Eyeing him, the lieutenant was a completely different man than he was hours ago. His face was covered with blood and dirt, panting out of breath from the battle.


"Kaiser. We captured a small group of the surviving villagers. What is to be done with them?"


Magnus turned to see the group. The bunch looked beaten up and bruised all over, having their hands restrained behind them to immobile them from escaping. Obtaining a similar expression of sadness and defeat in their eyes. Whatever they have done to them, it was no business of his. RavenBrand could use them for ransom, but since they killed all of the concerning citizens here, it would prove worthless.


"They are useless to us. Kill them and burn their bodies with the rest of this lot." he ordered.


The lieutenant nodded and whistled to the men guarding the prisoners for the all clear. The men gave a returning thumbs up and barked at the prisoners to kneel down in a single fashion line. Magnus stood holding his arms across his chest examining the display. One of the members grabbed a large two handed ax and proceeded to practice swinging it. When satisfied with the weapon of choice, he walked behind one of the prisoners and pushed his filthy iron boots on the back of the prisoner to bend them down forward. The prisoner gave a bit of resistance before complying. Walking to the side, he placed the heavy blade on the back of the neck as if he was lining up the strike. Finished, he lifted the blade upward and used all of his strength to deliver a clean cut. It was over in an instant. The ax had stuck itself into the earth with a splash of blood covering the edges. Laying aside, rolled the head of the first victim frozen with an expressionless face. It looked like he did not care what they did to them, as long as he did not show mercy, he won. What a stupid way to die. The rest of the body tumbled onto its side and begun gushing out a river of blood into the air. The rest of the prisoners all had different reactions, some disgusted, but one thing was clear. They are going to die here.


Leaving after completing their main objectives, Magnus gathered up his bannermen and made a convey back to the treelines of the forest heading back to home.


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Aumesuhur


Pathway between Fetyr and Derra


Unable to find the girl in Fetyr, Aumesuhur had grown tired of waiting. His subjects had covered every inch of land in the capital only to come up empty-handed. Enough time had passed that he could validate that she was no longer in the area. Refusing defeat, he would become restless until he had accomplished his tasks in Erisdar. To kill the royal family and to cede Erisdar as demon lands. An easy assignment of a demon of his caliber.


To make up for his mistakes of sending the incompetent soldiers to finish the job, he would ensure both the dominance of Erisdar as well as acquiring information about the location of the girl by visiting one of the last major human settlements in the kingdom, Derra. Assembling his dark forces, he marched them out of the city gates filling the roadways with an endless stream of demons. He knew well that Derra stood no chance against them. Fetyr was already widely proven as the strongest holding that the kingdom had to offer. Being built into a mountain provided much of its defense capabilities. Other than their soldiers and stone walls, he had broken it into submission. The thought of wiping out another human infested town excited him. Would it disappoint him like Fetyr did? Or would it challenge him this time? Still, he needed to find the girl first. So perhaps he will find out soon.


"...keep playing this game you call hide and seek.....you will eventually run out of places hide.......thats when I will find you..."
 
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Location: Arlan-Gothia border.


Robert scolded himself on using four arrows on two rabbits. He scolded himself for killing two rabbits. 


He was stoking the fire with dry leaves. A pile hard to keep in the breezy wind. Smoke could.be seen towering above the cave. It'll attract people for sure.. and maybe some demons. Good.


He started sinking the rabbit, a feat hard to do with a broadsword. It took a while and some meat was cut off but he had a manageable rabbit. The scraps were left beside the fire. He was fatigued. He had killed a rabbit and ran for.miles at a time throughout the day. After he ate he planned to sleep. Then he'll find people and bring them here... Maybe look for more arrows and weapons. Real arrows, not hunting arrows. 


He wondered on the thought of finding people, be it in Gothia or over at Zael. Perhaps maybe he'll head to Vorch..


The rabbit was turning crisp. He started taking it off the rabbit resonating hear and his mouth watering. It was feasting time. And then nap time.
 

Wiglaf
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The Gothian recoiled at the unanounced forth member to the party's entrance. He looked about before putting his right hand on the hilt of his rapier resting in its sheath. It struck him as odd that so many people could find themselves at the same place in the wilderness. Perhaps, by fate or some divine intervention on the behalf of providence. 


Wiglaf was still and silent, waiting for the newcomer to explain himself. 
 

Azalea
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Location: Zael-Arlan border. 


Azalea pressed her red lips thin together at the strangers suggestive head nod. But kept silent. She wasn't about to stir up trouble with a stranger. Although her eyes were dangerously narrowed at him as she firmly kept her aim on the man holding the dagger. "Who are you? What do you want?" Azalea calmly but firmly demanded of the man, considering nobody else had spoken up. After all, he only held a dagger. 


@Yesterday @Shireling @Lorkhan
 


 
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"Hazel" He said out loud, repeating what she said in order to see if it was true or a lie. As a soldier, he remembered that lies can easy be found when he takes the events from a different perspective: from the past events to the present to present events to the past.


He started to thought, "Her name is Hazel, she is a hunter. She claimed to have watched the death of all royal family on the Kingdom. She is from Fetyr which is at the base of the mountains, she fled the scene after the events. Before she claimed she had no idea of it's affairs." just like an idea brings up to the light, Inir confirmed his suspicious, there is a missing piece in the story; clearly the woman hasn't been honest with him about everything she said. But he didn't felt in danger close by her presence, it felt like her own will had been shattered.


Little by little, Inir accommodated the story as he walks away in the forest, pulling the ropes of the horse as he checks on it's bags hoping there was any supplies at all. Nevertheless, his mind was still piercing the story in general, every movement and action seemed now consumed by the thoughts of why... why is she lying? Or what is more important, is it worth to call out the bluff? If anything she said is true, then he would understand she isn't fit for more pressure.


However his duty as a soldier restrict him from allow such a lie to get away without being notice, so he speaks, "Hazel." he makes a pause after calling her, the next words must help Inir get a better idea of her without calling too much attention. Funny, a few days later at the fields of Vorch and he wouldn't accept this kind of mental games... but he was dealing with the Dragons. He bites his pride and his way of be as he asked, "What do you know about the shadows? You claimed you saw your King, Queen and all of the Royal family annihilated... Didn't they say or left any clue of how to fight them back before the tragedy?" he started to direct his questions, "Maybe you heard of anyone on the cry of combat about anything, maybe someone who got lucky like you... Maybe you have something to tell me how exactly to avoid them?" clearly his point was clear, if she had no information it beyond coincidence or a lucky shot... she was more than she said she is. But if she discovered something, any clue of information; to even avoid them or delay them... it would be a win-win for him.


Inir would only look over his shoulder as he scratches his bear. He tried to act innocently and not making it look like some kind of interrogatory. 



 
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I have to remember that my name is Hazel. She was still reminding herself days later. They had spoken little, he started the fires and cooked what she hunted, but lately during that time when it was just she on her own, the nightmares came back. She should have done so much more, but the terror that seized her had been so... unnatural. She'd fought off thieves, rapists, and other enemies before. It had given her an adrenaline rush versus the fear that seemed to switch off her fight instinct. Now she could only stand frozen as the memories washed over her, threatening to swallow her up and leave nothing in its wake.


Something was wrong with here. Where had her strength gone? She hoped the soldier didn't notice. How had she grown so weak? When did people dying shrivel her up inside the shell of herself? Each time she went through this, she rationalized with herself and tried to combine the strength with wisdom, to become strong one more and into her old self. But each time, she thought of her family and her people whose bodies probably rotted away in the kingdom, and of how she had done nothing to stop it because she wasn't strong enough. It was around that point that her attempt at strength dissipated and all was left was... fear.


"Hazel." She heard it somewhere in the back of their mind as he rode and she walked beside him. That's my horse's name, isn't it? The start of what he said was blurred by her mind torturing itself. "... Maybe you heard of anyone on the cry of combat?..." He was asking her about it. He wanted her to relive it. Oh yes, I had said my name was Hazel... Her eyes widened, like waking up from another nightmare. She had been slipping away mentally, but now she was clear and awake. He was probably asking her about the black cloud that had attacked her kingdom and killed her people. Intuition told her to think back and look closely at the details, but the idea of going back to that place in her mind was all too daunting. But my family... For that sake, she pushed past her fear and tried to remember everything. "... My... brother looked back before he got a dead look in his eye. The villagers and he were being controlled. T-t-they wanted everything dead," but that wasn't the full truth now, she realized. Yes the other villagers were being killed, but for some reason they were targeting her family. They wanted to kill the royal family and leave no heir left alive. And they wanted us to suffer mentally. "I think.... that they get into people's heads somehow. They fill it... with fear.... until there's nothing left but waves and waves of fear..."


And they did that to her family! TO HER. Something inside the female woke up, like a demon rearing its head. She would kill whoever had done this to her family, and whoever put so much fear within her would pay until every ounce of fear had been burned away. This, she promised herself. The promise woke her up from her living nightmare, like it was a spell and she had just broken it. Iris knew the pain wasn't over, that it would return in the evening, but she knew that her strength and love for her family would break through again so she could complete her mission.
 
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Varren was getting everythng packed. Starting with his weapon and working his way to the tent once he was done he started getting rid of anything that could allow them to be tracked. He started with the fire by throwing dirt over it and putting it out. After that he made 3 different tracks hoping they would confuse the creatures Inir had talked about. When everything was said and done Varren took off. "Lets see how good of hunters these things are." As one final fail safe he started covering his scent with many different items including some sort of powder which gave off a foul smell. If these things relied on scent this would confuse them.
 


 
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Inir continued looked back as he walked forward. It's horse seemed tired of being pulled but he seem too focus on 'Hazel' to give a care. While he avoid the roots that extend from the base of the tree, raising his foot to the length of his knee ensuring there was no possible way he fell for being too focus on the conversation.


Her brother. His brother... Rason Warden is dead. He started to figure out something. As much as the emotions started to overcome with each passing memory, he realize that the shadows were after the both of them. Rason knew that perfectly and that is why he faced the darkness alone, to gain more time. The image of his brother, his face... knowing he will never get to see him again.


The thoughts were cut loose before he got conflicted with his memories. He sighted as he tried to continue with the questioning, "And how did you get out of there alive?" he stopped to check on the bags of the horse, also stopping her from walking any further so he gained her full attention, "As a Hunter, you should have known many paths to many places of the city. If I was you, I would have attempt to guide the people to a safe place if I was on the field near by them. Regardless you sounded... so sure that every royal family on Erisdar has been eradicated... The King, the Queen..." he makes a pause as he slowly moves his glance to meet hers, raising both eye browns, "Where were you when it all happened? How can you be so sure they are gone?"


 
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He started to see through the lies but he also started to lose his control on the conversation, being too forth-coming... but he needed to know.


 
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She panicked. He knows. He knew something was up, that she wasn't who she said she was. But why did he care? Why did he push so far and question her so much? He had stopped her and stared directly into her eyes, wanting to know all her secrets. But what of him? What were his? Who was he? Iris thought back. Inir. Inir. She knew that name, just didn't know from where. He was a soldier, from Vorch. Iris spent a few years in Vorch as a child to learn about their economy and way of life. She even spoke with their king at one point. He told her about a son with different ideals, who was already training to be commander. He had told her the boy was his youngest, but a great warrior nonetheless. She remembered joking about meeting him and battling, seeing who had more strength: the human or the dragon. The King of Vorch had laughed at her remark, but no battle ever came to be.


But he had said no name. It could be pure coincidence, Iris didn't have enough information to be sure. However, if he was like her, a royal, then maybe she wouldn't be alone. Perhaps then there would be someone who shared her pain and the memories. If he was a royal like she, then maybe the monsters that attacked them had a goal in mind: the royal families. Everyone was in danger, and that made getting to Arlan all the more important. Iris knew parting from the soldier even due to his suspicions wasn't a good idea.


"I told you, soldier, I saw it happen. There was no one to lead out, their minds were no longer their own. They were but puppets to be used. ...Like magic," her voice was hollow as her mind flashed back to her brother whose eyes had been empty as he tried to thrust his sword into her chest. She wondered if he knew what he had been doing, and hoped it wasn't so. Trying to cause harm to his sister would damage her brother's sensitive mind. Not that it mattered. They were all dead now. "Why do you question me so much? Do you wish to make me feel worse than I already do?"
 


 
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"Because if we want any chance on fighting back this creatures we need to trust each other. But you continue to dodge my questions." Inir made his point clear, ignoring all mark of shock and fear the woman had. It no longer was about his own curiosity, in fact, it never was, "I know you don't like it, I know what you saw is terrible and I am sure things aren't going to get any easier in the next few days. But this is war." he cleared his throat as he stared at her, his eyes shaking over time to catch her eyes sight, "... Can I trust you, Hazel? Can I look forward without worrying about any of your lies?" his voice became deep and insisting, not demanding but worried.


Inir is worried. Whenever he read about the times of war, the army with more numbers wins battles nine times out of ten. Vorch was one of the largest Kingdom, three times larger than any Kingdom with three times larger army; yet wiped out of the map like sweat on the face of existence. The frustration corrupted him to the point his kindness, his duty of care... it was all shattered by fear, by revenge. If there was no hope, maybe... just maybe he could get enough strength and fight against whatever abomination killed his brother and avenge him.



 
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The man was losing whatever sense he had. Something similar to what had her trapped earlier seemed to take hold of him. Before, it appeared he was suspicious but minded his tongue. That she could respect. It was wise for one to be suspicious of new people and doubt their words. But his entire demeanor and attitude changed. She could even rationalize that yes, he too had gone through a difficult time. The difference being that she didn't question his secrets, she knew where to draw the line. Yet he dared to without a care?


"Trust?" Iris spoke up. "Can you trust me? Well, can I trust you? Who are you really, Inir? Just a soldier of Vorch?"


She no longer felt their journey together would work out. Her hand went behind her, to the hatchet in its sheathe. "Perhaps I should continue my journey alone," she said the words slowly and moved away from the soldier. "You question me with lies, and yet undoubtedly have some of your own."


She looked beyond their current position. To get to Arlan, they were likely headed west, passing through Gothia where they currently were. Should she need to escape the soldier, she knew she could outrun him on foot, and at the very least, be two paces above his horse. She just wasn't sure if she'd have more stamina than the beast. In fact, if conflict occurred, she would need to knock him out before taking her leave. In that case, it would truly be a fight. Iris waited for his reply, watched him like he was an animal and paid attention to every part of him. One wrong move and the fight would begin.
 


 
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And there it was. Inir saw the Dragon awaking as a wild animal ready to strike whatever is on it's path just to get things done their way. But wait... what is this all about? Inir couldn't make her see it his way, she was already too agitated to reason with a stubborn Dragon. But when she claimed for Inir's lies... lies. He didn't say any lie but omit to say his last name. Maybe that was all it mattered to her, the fact she heard of Jorah Warden's last son. He never spoke in order to lie her, he only neglected to add whatever he found irrelevant for the conversation.


Inir understood it was a dead end, there would be no good coming from this unless someone loose up. At last, he calmed down. If he wanted to gain her trust, maybe he could reveal more information about himself. Marked by a last-name, not by everything he accomplished, not for who he wanted to become... all that mattered was a blood-line, the family name.


"I did not lie." he replies moving no muscle but the mouth, his eyes still piercing her acting without worries knowing well she was exterminating him, the only reason he wasn't doing the same is because he already did before, there wasn't much to know about, "My name is Inir Warden, last son of Jorah Warden, Lord of Caelum and Warden of Vorch. My last six years I spent traveling with nothing but this horse, the sword that cross my belt and the armor I carry in my shoulders. My brother died in Castle Bear, fighting with his men while I ran like never before..." he made a pause as he turn around trying to hide his frustration, "The bloody idiot... he gave the task to find more clues about those monsters but in retrospective I know he only wanted me to get out alive." he looks over his shoulder, gasping as he started to need air. His eyes dropped sight to the ground as if he could see his brother's corpse laying there, "I grow up with soldiers... I learned how to die years ago. I should be the one in the grey-yard that became Castle Bear. Not him."


Inir takes a long breath as he calmed his anger, there was nothing but hatred, "I did not lie. I just don't want to be address as Lord, I am just a man with a sword... what is worth all the power or steel of the seven Kingdoms if you can't protect the ones you care." he shook his head as he pulled the ropes of the horse, moving once more towards Arlan.


 
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Damon Salderris
Near the Arlan-Zael border
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@DarknessSpirit @Shireling @Yesterday

"Now... I don't appreciate being called a vagrant, sir."


The man sounded so cocky  that Damon was not sure whether to roll his eyes or laugh, so he resisted the urge to do either. "And who are you supposed to be, then? Emperor of Sarthenfall?" he snorted.  The man's eyes grew hard, and he stepped forward in a manner some might call threatening. Damon returned his glowers as he laid a hand on his sword hilt.. "Name. Now." he growled, staring him down.
 
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/monthly_2016_11/pf.png.6141ad1f8262aeadc4e622b7d917a9fb.pngI R I S    D R A ' E R    O F    E R I S D A R


So her suspicions were confirmed. But Iris said nothing to combat it. With this new information, she knew battle and fleeing was no longer an option. Yet she still wasn't ready to open up herself and show all her secrets. Glad that he had let go of his questions for her, she followed behind him, three paces back, letting the forest calm her. If nothing else, she had the forest. Perhaps she couldn't think about her family in that moment, but she could think about the knowledge she knew of the land. She could think on the different kingdoms and what she knew from each of them.


Iris thought of the king of Vorch who had two sons, but only one ever seen. She even remembered meeting the first prince. She had been so young and wild at that age, she challenged many of the soldiers in Vorch during her stay. Most fights were marked as a draw, and some admitted their loss to her. Unfortunately, even their loss didn't please her, because she could feel them holding back. Was it on account of her being female or her being a princess? Was her own kingdom the only place where she had equal standing as a man?


As they headed for Arlan, she saw the landscape start to change around them. Gothia's forests were relatively thin for a forest, with clearings that had nothing but tree stumps, which she assumed was from renovation and building. She knew they were close to Arlan when the forest grew thicker and denser. Once they crossed the border, they were sure to start seeing plains designated for Arlan farming.


Her eye went to the soldier-prince person who she still walked behind. She would be content to travel silently like this, but knew their conversation from earlier wasn't yet over. Sooner or later, the questions of who she was and what happened to her people would come up again. But she didn't have answers to his questions yet, not until she had time to sit down and go through her memories quietly. There was a piece missing, there had to be some trace of who and what the assailants were, and if there was any weaknesses.
 
Location: Arlen, near the Zael border


Arkady grimaced at the commander's comment, the handle of his dagger comprising under the pressure of his hand. He huffed a little, and flipped the dagger in his hand so the point faced the ground. He dropped the dagger into it's loose sheathe, and extended an arm. "I'm Arkady Arsen-" He cut himself off, not knowing whether the princess would recognize the last name of his father. Who knows what kind of hell he raised over there... He retracted his hand, resting it at his side. "Arkady Arsen, slayer of men, prize of the ladies." He said more confidently, with a wink at the princess."
 


 
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Location: Reaching the border-lines of Arlan.


Inir couldn't tell the difference from Gothia's forest from Arlan's; though he realize it was becoming thicker. The light that once reached the ground now harshly grasp the cup of the trees, leaving nothing but shadows laying below. The silence wasn't helping to the situation as the dark dense forest continued steps forward ahead with no sign of anyone.


Just until he saw something out of order, tracks. Wheels that went out of control and rushed in order to escape from something, someone. A strong smell like death reached him weakly but as further he walks the stronger the smell. After moving through the dense mass that avoid him to see further, he found the source of the putrefaction. A cart that rushed against a tree, a corpse pierced by a branch of the tree. Five meters was a smaller corpse, crushed by some kind of animal that seem desperate to run away.


Inir raised his hand trying to avoid Hazel to get any closer than she should, he then moved his hand towards his lips trying to give her the order to remain quiet. Though some coughing would alert the both of them. A man's voice that cracked as he coughed, "is... is anyone there?" it seemed a weak attempt for help but Inir didn't seem to rush to help as he saw the man beyond the cart. In another direction, too far to even smell the dead.


It seemed to be a man laying against a tree with a spear sticking out from his torso. It continued to cough but it's arms and legs seemed dead. Inir walked towards the man with a hand over the hilt of his sword. When he manages to look at him, he is capable to see that he lost a lot of blood, clinging to life barely... his dead sight reached Inir and he asks, "You aren't Selene..." he coughs, spitting blood from his throat, "Y-You... ugh..." it cracked, his voice sounded dry and Inir moved his hand out from the hilt of his sword and reached for the water, the canteen and offered some water.


The man sip a bit and said, "Water... I wish- I wish it was ale..." Inir smirks as he nods, but the man doesn't let him talk, "I saw you... I know you. You are that man who-" coughed again, slowly being drive by pain, "the man who helped our farm."


"Aye." He spoke trying to avoid him to get to speak but the stubborn old man didn't seem to care, he wanted to pass his last breath among people for once, "we were ambushed... They ran with the cart. I was on foot... not so lucky." he chuckles as blood came out from his mouth, "I-I can't... can't move without bleeding out to death. Te-Tell me- did... did they made it?"

 
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Azalea
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Location: Arlan-Zael border. 


Azalea grimaced at Arkady's wink. "Cocky." Azalea stated grimly. Normally she would've smirked, or laughed. But witnessing the horrors of the night before, she was devastated. She finally slung her bow over her back, putting the arrow away in her quiver. Azalea walked over to her horse, grabbing its reins firmly and stiffly and spoke, her back to all three. "Zael's gone. Gothia's gone. Great scott even Arlans gone!" Azalea sounded frustrated, and hopeless. That was until she hoped unto her horse. Nightfall was setting in and the skies were darkening. Azalea was tired, but she had to act fast. All three of them could be of help, but there would be no reason for them to help her. 


@Rho @Shireling @Lorkhan
 
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