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SilverFlight

Tende altum, volare altius
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A floating world, a forbidden darkness and a year of your life you can't remember. The gods are watching, are you ready?

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Skyheart

Lore Characters OOC
Little FeathersArt



Since “The Cataclysm”, more than 800 years ago, mankind has lived on floating islands in the sky. The earth has long been covered in a sea of bruised clouds, but they lie far below the sky cities, forests and fields and people never bother with what lies beneath. Life is hard, technology is limited and the only way to travel between islands is by means of winged creatures that can be caught and tamed. The forests, planes and mountains on many islands are filled with dangerous beasts and this tamed mount will be a companion and protector for the entirety of a person’s life. Most humans belong to one of four great tribal clans, resting on the four largest islands that sit at the edge of the known lands in each of the four cardinal directions. The Cataclysm was a punishment from the gods, who saw the greed of mankind and decided to destroy them. The survivors were lifted up as a way to bring humans closer to the gods and founded the four great clans. Relations between the clans can be tense, and so, as a gesture of peace and unity between them, the coming of age ceremony they hold for every young man or woman that reaches 18 is done together, on a mountain island in the center of the known world.

The proving is now. There is much you must know before the time is done...wake up, champions...wake up!




The camp hummed with energy. There was a tension in the air and at the center of it, the candidates who would run this year's proving. The market was alive, people from all over the world come to set up their stalls, barter their wares, take commissions for carvings, weapons saddles. Everyone was excited.
By the lake people were washing clothes, taking in the sloping sides of the God Mountain. Skybeasts lounged on rocks by the water, groomed and brought food by the riders or their children.
A boy of eighteen hugged his Northarian parents. "Remember what I taught you." The mother said, "and you will come back grown."
"You should choose a wolf, like your mother and I." The woman slapped her husband's arm playfully. "He is not you Brul, or me. He will choose what speaks to his heart."
Two more youths were talking happily as they carried wares for their parents to the stalls. "I can't wait until it's my turn to catch a skybeast!"
"Maybe, but the party when they return is the best part!"
Not far away a young woman sat in silence with two older. They we holding her hands. They bore no clan marks, and looked both hopeful, and sad.
"Do you know which clan you will choose?"
The young woman shook her head, and tears came to her eyes...

All this was happening all around a tent that sat in the midst of others, though not a soul went in or out of this one...people looked at it as if they had not noticed it before, but most shrugged and continued. Only one seemed to focus on it, and slowly, this one, the shaman and leader of the ceremonies of the proving, went over to investigate...



Darkness...the air was stifling. A sense of purpose, then panic. The sky close by flashed white, and then orange-red. A battle? Wind roared, in the distance someone cried out, another yelled. Too much...it was too much. Rain soaked clothes...too slick for rain...you know it is blood. It covers everything...then something appears, though you cannot see it. It wants the blood, it wants death...you're going to die...WAKE UP!



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Kari
Kari jolted and gasped. The urgency fading more slowly than the images, which were now blurry and fading even more. Dream. It was a dream. She opened her eyes.
The tent was unfamiliar. It was canvas, dyed blue, which threw the entire scene in a gentle, serene light. She sat up and looked around. She was sitting on a thin bed roll, there were furs and blankets, and bags of supplies and...Faces. There were other people in the tent, sleep or just beginning to rouse, each on their own bed roll. She frowned as she grasped for the recognition that she knew had been there just a moment before, but it slipped like water from cupped hands, and looking at them, she could only conclude that she did not know them.
As she sat up she felt a faint dusk slide from her clothes. She took some of it into her palm...it was sand, sparkling with a purple tinge. Why was she covered in sand?
Kari brushed herself off slowly, and decided to reach out to the others.

These were facts: She did not know where she was, but the sounds outside told her she was close to a settlement. She did not know these people, though she may have? Once, or it could have just been the dream. They had supplies for a journey, from the look of the gear and clothing, a journey up a mountain: there were warm clothes, boots, grappling hooks and rope, rationd for two days, all set out for each person in the tent. Kari couldn't remember ever planning a journey...she needed answers.

"Hello?" She spoke into the silence, "I'm Kari...do any of you know where this is?...and, this is gonna sound crazy, what I'm doing here?"
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((So, for this scene, I'll allow multiple posts, though they should be short, for dialogue and interaction. Everyone had that dream/memory segment, and all the characters are likely going to be very confused.))
 
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Aldaf awoke, rubbing his eyes. He looked tired, his eyes bloodshot. He looked at Kari, his face blank and exhausted.

"Hi there, Kari." He responded, his voice a bit slurred. "I'm Aldaf. Sorry if I seem a bit... unenergetic at the moment. Bad dreams."

He checked around. He looked a bit confused. Do I know these people? He thought to himself. He checked himself, patting himself down to see what he was wearing.

"So." He stood up silently, dusting himself off. "What the hell are we doing here? And where is... here?" He asked the only other person awake.

He took note of the fact that everyone had different armors on, but had the same general gear. Odd. He was very confused, but didn't want to show it, just in case it was just another joke played by someone he knew. But why so many other people? And why that dream? What was that thing? He checked the gear, hoping to god his stuff was still here somewhere.
 

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Caliban Lupei

The dream was all too real. No, not a dream. A nightmare. But one so intense that it was experienced physically, as though it was not just his mind but his entire self had been transported to another time and place. He had experienced vivid terrors before when he slept but this...was different.

Caliban jolted upright, instincts still hazy, fight-or-flight responses in high gear. He calmed slightly after a fleeting few moments of panicked breathing when he took in his surroundings, but he remained on high alert. He didn't seem to be in any immediate danger, but this was not anywhere he recognized. People, sights and sounds he did not know were all around and it was rather jarring. He heard voices and turned, noticing that a few of the others had begun to stir and rise, exchanging hasty greetings. They didn't seem like bad people from what his gut was telling him, and he had his gear nearby. Though why that would be, he didn't know. The information he lacked seemed to be mounting rather quickly and he soon had far more questions than he could even begin to pick apart. So for the time being, he went with what came naturally and decided to put all else on the back burner.

"Oh, uh..Hi! Name's Caliban."

The greeting was a little less enthusiastic than he would normally muster under ordinary circumstances, his usually easy smile faltered just a little as he struggled to recover from the lingering wisps of the nightmare trailing through his memory like fingers of ice.

"I'm rather curious as to what this is all about, as well. Truth be told it wouldn't be the first time waking up somewhere strange, these things happen occasionally. But this is certainly a new one for me."

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Kari
Kari smiled in sympathy but paused when Aldaf mentioned the dreams.
"You too?"
The man called Caliban spoke next. Not the first time? She might want those stories later.
"My dream...I think I was in a fight...there was magic?" When she tried to recall the memory retreated, almost as if it did not want her to know.
"I don't know where we are...but, it sounds safe, for now."
Suddenly her eyes went wide and she cast about the things closest to her, letting out a sigh of relief when she pulled her brother's goggles from under one of the furs.
She still had the items that were most important to her. She put them on, setting the lenses on her head. She remembered her brother...her family, but the most recent memories still felt like soup in her mind.
"I'm from South Estendor. Where are you from?"
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Aldaf pulled out his little carved dragon and started to fiddle with it in his fingers.
"I'm from Sudenta. West Sudenta."
He stopped at Kari's first question.
"Wait, what do you mean, you too?"
He thought of the dream, the memories of the vision fading away as well. Strange. He thought to himself. He turned to face Caliban.
"Do you got everything? As far as I know, our shit's still here."
Aldaf gestured to the gear around them.
"And it looks like someone wants us to go somewhere cold, it seems."
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Marylka awoke with a start, heart pounding and forehead damp with cold sweat as if having woken from a terrible nightmare. One which was already quickly fading from her memory. Her brain felt mushy, unable to figure out where one thought ended and the next began, and her body sluggish. Effects of having been asleep for too long. How long was too long though? Deep breaths, Marylka. She silently told herself. Panicking will do you no good. To her slight amusement, the thought came in her grandfather’s voice. Closing her eyes, Marylka focused on her breathing until she felt her heart rate return to a normal pace.

The air around her felt cool to the skin and carried the smell of pine and petrichor. It was enough to tell her that she was not in her family's yurt back in Estendor. As she sat up, she noticed other figures around her starting to come to as well. Who are they? Where had they come from? Question after question ran through her mind, each one only stressing her out more. If there was one thing that Marylka disliked it was the feeling of having absolutely no control, and right now it seemed as though she was barely hanging on to the end of the rope.

When she tried to stretch out a kink in her back, she found her movement hindered by the high-necked, fur-trimmed, fitted leather bodice she was wearing. Matching leather cuffs adorned her forearms and her usual soft leather moccasins had been replaced with calf-high boots; Traditional Estendorian armour typically worn by warriors of her clan. Instinctively, her hands flew to her hip. With a sigh of relief, she found her kindjal still safely stored in its sheath around her waist. The memory of her grandfather gifting it to her on her 18th birthday was the last thing she could remember and yet it felt so long ago. With a frustrated groan, Marylka dropped her head in her hands.

"Hello?" A voice came from the silence, "I'm Kari...do any of you know where this is? And, this is gonna sound crazy, what I'm doing here?"

Two others replied. It seemed that they were all just as confused.

"H-hi?" She said, although a little too soft for they hadn't seem to hear her. "Hi!" She said again, this time a little louder. "I'm Marylka... I'm also from Estendor."

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Name: Leandra LaFraeNicknames: Lea, Firefly
Clan: SudentaClan Job: Huntress
Equipment: Knapsack, Medicinal Pouch, Bow, Quiver (10/10), Twin Daggers
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Leandra's heart was pounding, her hands were so slick and she kept tripping. The nightmare was raging in her ears and her head was pounding with the pain of it all. And then, silence. Her eyes fluttered open and she gasped. Taking a few deep breaths, she put a hand against her chest, willing her heart to stop pounding. Her forehead was slick with sweat and she could not even begin to explain what she had just experienced in that hellish nightmare.

The silence was broken by the voices of several people nearby. Leandra slowly pushed herself up and then winced when she felt a sudden jolt of pain from her dominant left hand. Confused, she looked down at it to see some leather glove concealing it. A quick wriggle of her fingers told her that her pinky was no longer present. She frowned at this and then worriedly clutched her hand to her chest before remembering she was not alone. She looked around at the few who were awake and gasped a second time when she saw Cal.
"C-Cal? What...what's going on here? Where are we?"
She turned to look at the others around her and was surprised to see so many different people sharing a tent with them. She noticed the climbing gear and various equipment nearby, but was at a loss for why they were altogether to go climbing.
One by one, everyone began introducing themselves and just as Leandra had with her damaged hand, each individual seemed to make a sudden grab for something important to them. It was at least comforting to know she was not alone in this bizarre experience. She caught several names, Kari, Aldaf, and one that was a bit difficult to pronounce: Marylka.
Leandra's anxiety spiked to see so many others caught up in this and she used her right hand to push herself up, as she carefully moved between the sleeping and awake individuals to join Cal's side. She sat back down and hugged her knees to her chest.

Looking over the group conversing, Leandra quietly spoke up, "Um, I'm Leandra. Cal, I mean, Caliban and I are both from Eastern Sudenta. Tamei, specifically, if you've ever heard of our village." She worriedly glanced at Cal again and whispered, "What's going on? I'm scared, Cal."
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Aldaf put away his figurine. He pulled out one of his knives and a whetstone, sharpening it.
"East Sudenta, huh? Never really been. I prefer to stay near home, if possible."
He finished sharpening his knife and pulled out a small block of wood he kept in his pack, the sound of a few more clunking around.
"It looks like no one here knows what exactly is going on. My suggestion, though, is to grab some of the gear provided, without taking all of it, for those of us still asleep."
He started carving the block with his knife, the shavings floating to the ground as he worked. His hands were quick, but precise.
"The gear looks provided, so whoever gave it to us might be coming to check on us soon. Maybe."
He was about halfway done, the shape undefined but finely carved.
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A headache drummed into existence on the inside of her skull, causing the masked young woman to groan and roll over into her stomach. The images that had flashed in her mind were quickly fading, and replacing them was this gods forsaken migraine.

Slowly, her hazel eyes rolled open and, at first, everything was blurry. In her attempts to get her vision to focus, she got up on her hands and knees and narrowed her eyes.
The environment around her was washed in a watercolor array of blue, fading in and out in its fuzziness. There were shapes moving around her, but what those shapes were, she had no idea.

“Ughhh... by the Stars.... wha... where am I?”

When the world cleared, she finally sat back on her legs and pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes, attempting to relieve the pressure building in her skull. Then she noticed the other people around her, all of them stirring and looking around just as bleary eyed as she was.

For a moment she was confused- What was she doing here? In fact, what were any of them doing here? Even more important, where had she been for the past year? The realization hit her like a ton of bricks. There was a massive blank in her memory! What in the Below happened to do that?!

The kids around her all started to introduce themselves, and after a moment she shrugged and sat back, cross-legged.
“Uh, well, I guess since we’re all introducing ourselves, I’m Katja. Hi. I’m from Northaria.... Does anyone else have a headache?”

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"Oh, splitting." Aldaf said, still carving. He was whittling through the cube rather quickly.
"Carving just helps me relax." He explained, finishing up the rough shape. It looked like a winged beast, but it was clunky. He started shaving away at the beast, bits and pieces of wood falling to the ground.
Soon, the model looked like a small, sleeping dragon. The detail was rough, but it was still easily identifiable as a dragon. He started working on detailing.
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Caliban Lupei

Cal's smile grew more genuine, familial. He hadn't noticed Lea before, but he was glad she was her. When she sat next to him, he bumped her with an elbow lightly, a playful gesture.
"Hey, c'mon now. Chin up, Lea. Think of it as an adventure. We've been in far weirder, deadlier situations than this before. Sure, I was responsible for about half of those but my point stands. We take care of each other, we always have. So, why not try and make the most of it, yeah?"

Eyeing all the others stirring awake and busying themselves with getting to know their surroundings, he yawned and stretched as he got to his feet. Taking stock of his own gear and seeing all of his equipment was nearby. Then, as though it had only just occurred to him, he checked for the pendant that he kept around his neck. It was where it always was, the smooth and intricately carved wood pressed against his chest under his shirt.

"Well, pleasure to meet everyone. And it feels like I was kicked in the head, so there's that."

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“Serik Tagaev”

It was cold and suffering, more than any fever Serik have ever had in his life. Almost a wild as the blizzard. His head ran wild as he struggled with something he didn’t know... In fact he wasn’t even awaken.

Suddenly, like being pulled back into reality again, the young man flinched and sprung up from his slumber with the loudest gasp he ever made.

Serik’s heart pounded and sweated heavily as he took his time to breath, his eyes widened as he started to look around.

He wasn’t home... It seemed like he was in a big tent, in a bed. Surrounding him, were other beds and people he never knew sitting around and chatting. Beside him lay equipments, some his and some was not. His first reflect was to grasp on to a fur hat lying around, his fur hat that was given by his mother.

“Alas, where am I?” He whispered to himself while looking around the tent again. This wasn’t home and there’s no way he could be sleeping in the place like this by himself. He began to hear other people’s conversations. It seemed they were here without expectation too.

“Hello? I am Serik... Do you know where I am and why we are here?” He began to ask the others. “Are we being kept prisoners?” He added. “...Or are we dead?...” He spoke, feeling insecure and confused.

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Marylka had never been very good when it came to meeting new people. She was shy, awkward, and never knew what to say. But you do know these people. A voice in the back of her mind said. It was true that everyone seemed familiar, but she had no recollection of ever meeting them. How could she when they came from such exotic places and she herself had never traveled further than Ocris, the capital of Estendor?

From where she had slept, she could just about peek through a gap in the entrance of the tent that they were in. She spied cloudy grey skies and an imposing snow-capped mountain. Definitely not in Estendor then. Suddenly, the numerous stories her grandfather had told her as a child came rushing back and realization hit her.

"Erm... guys?" She called out, embarrassed to be interrupting their conversation. "I think I know where we are... I think we're at the proving?"

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Serik heard someone trying to raise a voice up against the talking crowd. He turned toward it and saw a girl. She has long hair and fair skin, dressing in what appeared to be Estendor heritage clothing, the same culture as his. She seemed a bit shy to speak up so loudly.

Serik was struck by her appearance for a bit, but them he realized he should still be confused more than anything at the time.

“The proving?” He said and looked out of the tent’s entrance. He saw the background of high, snowy mountain far away. He had never been to the proving before but he had heard it from his family and friends.

“The proving? Where youths are trained to obtain their own skybeasts? But how did we get here? I don’t remember anything...” Said Serik.

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“The Proving?!” Katja gasped, her hands flying up to her head with an expression of shock. Was that true?! It couldn’t be!
“Nonono, we can’t be at the proving! I’m not ready for the proving! I just signed up yesterday! ... right?”

She rubbed her temples and looked around, then crawled passed all the others to stick her nose outside the tent. Snow swirled around the beak on her mask, and the bite of air brought pictures of her home to her mind, but this was definitely different. She squinted her eyes against the light that was bouncing off the snow. SHe could hear the sounds of people around them, revelry, children playing, merchants shouting of their wares. This only confused her more.

“... well, we’re either in Northaria, or we are in fact on the God Mountain- hoooo gods, what? How did this happen? Why can’t I remember anything after falling asleep the night I signed up for the proving?” She turned and looked at the others, bewildered, “Can anyone remember the past year?”

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Aldaf shook his head, the carving almost complete. A small pile of wood chips and shavings lay at his feet.
"Nothing. How peculiar. At least we aren't about to die, eh?" He chuckled a bit. He held up the little dragon, examining it.
"My carving's still good. Anyone want this one?" He called out, holding up the sleeping dragon carving.
 
Gerel Sarnai

The nightmare had felt so real, so vivid, that when Gerel snapped awake he struggled to distinguish dream from waking reality. His body was damp with cold sweat, and his breathing was coming in short and shallow. Flashes of the nightmare pulsed in his thoughts like lightning in a fierce storm. In the midst of that, Gerel came across a place in his mind where there was nothing but emptiness. Panic pushed further and further into him, and it was all he could do to clutch the stone pendant his mother carved for him, whispering prayers to the five deities for deliverance. And like wayfarer stars in the night sky he saw Talon, his faithful partner, gazing into his eyes. With a soft coo, she nuzzled her beak against Gerel's cheek. He could almost hear what the eagle was thinking, 'Hey, this is no time to panic. Do what you do best. Remember your father's words.'

In an instant, the nightmare and the void vanished from his mind like smoke. He chuckled, wondering whether Talon's words merely echoed his own thoughts. Remember your father's words, so she said, and the memory formed like brushstrokes of color. He and his father were standing atop a hill, bow in hand, and the sun making its blazing descent in the horizon. Below them were three targets, and several arrows jutting out of the ground serving as Gerel's fruitless attempts. "You're doing fine, son," his father laid a hand on Gerel's shoulder. "You already know the forms. Now all you have to do is to breathe, look, and let go." Breathing deeply, Gerel drew his shot. He looked at the target, shutting away all other distractions. And exhaling, he let go. Before the arrow dug into the target, Gerel already knew that he was going to hit the mark.

The memory faded, leaving behind strength to cope up with the unfamiliar. He rose from the bedroll he was lying on, taking note of his current attire (fur armor, commonly worn by warriors of their tribe, with a beige tunic beneath a hooded fur cloak, leather braces, and baggy breeches with the ends stuffed into leather boots), and the place he was in (sky-blue tent, with nine others inside, most of which were just rousing from sleep). The more his mind awakened, the more details he took in; a number of people were Estendorian, like him, in particular the one who called herself Marylka (she was familiar, a vestige of the world beyond the emptiness in his mind); there were supplies and rations on one side of the tent, enough for ten people, enough for climbing up a mountain; and the gold hoop hanging on his left ear was a mystery-- he never fancied wearing jewelry.

He ran a finger across its cold surface as he tried to recall the last memory before the emptiness took over. It was of his mother embracing him and wishing him well on his journey to the proving grounds, right after handing him the greatest treasure of his life. He clutched the stone pendant once more, it's smoothness bringing comfort to him. Talon flapped its wings, jumping up and perching on Gerel's shoulders, from where she fixed each other person in the tent with a steady stare. For the moment he kept to himself, preferring to let the others talk about their current situation. His eyes kept shifting back to Marylka, his mind struggling to pull more of the world before the emptiness through her. So far, most of what the others mentioned confirmed what he had already considered (we are at the Proving Grounds, and everybody has lost their memories, one way or another). In fact, as he looked at each of them in turn, he felt a strange sense of familiarity. He knew these people, but he didn't know how.

Perhaps it was time for him to speak. Nothing more could be gained from listening and watching. Breathe, look, and let go.

"If I may," Gerel said, his voice light and deliberate. "I am Gerel of the Sarnai family of Estendor. It is a pleasure to... meet all of you." He raised a finger to Talon and scratched the side of her head. He faltered at the last, because he couldn't rid himself of that familiarity, but he felt that it would only bring more confusion if he brought it up.

"If we are indeed at the proving grounds, then there's only one thing for us to do here," He pointed to the supplies and rations lying on the side of the tent. "We have to undergo the Proving Ceremony. As for our lost memories... maybe we'll learn something along the way. I don't remember the past year," he added, glancing at one named Katja, "But the last thing I remember was bidding my parents farewell in order to prepare for the Proving."

Remembering the one called Aldaf and his offer, he glanced at the man and at the wooden carving of a sleeping dragon in his hand. It reminded Gerel of his mother and her own carvings, and the thought brought comfort to him. "I'd like that carving if you're still offering," Gerel said. "It's good craftsmanship."

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Matthias
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Matthias woke. He did not awake in his room, or even in his own home. He took a deep breath, tasted the air. He was not certain that he was still in Northaria at all. This was... Unsettling, to say the least. And to make matters worse, he seemed to have awoken in a tent of sorts, surrounded by men and women - this was a stretch (most of them looked to be his junior, some alarmingly so) - whom he did not recognize.

Matthias groaned. Without warning, memories of the night prior came in a flurry. The feeling of it welled up. It turned Matthias' stomach. Dread. The fear of death, the promise of it. Not memories... A dream; it had been a dream. And yet, it felt so real. With effort, he pushed the intrusive thoughts away from his waking mind, resolving to face them in a nightmare yet to come. He was standing before he knew it, taking in his surroundings. He counted the ones who had awoken with him, assessed them. He did not yet no if they were friend or foe. He did not know them at all. And lastly, he listened. Names, of people, and of countries. Fewer Northarians than he would've liked. Then came word of The Proving. Not Northaria after all.

"You all sound very sure of yourselves." Matthias grumbled, more to himself than anyone else in the room. He was rummaging through some of the provisions that had been laid out, seemingly for each of them. Curious. Thankfully, his mind, still dazed and half-sleeping, had not gotten around to fully processing the situation and what it meant. Had he truly lost his memories? He could see his parents' faces, and the faces of his siblings. His home, his forge. But when his mind reached for recent memories, Matthias felt only vacuous emptiness. When he'd confirmed all of his belongings were present and accounted for - and some extra items he did not recognize as belonging to him - Matthias turned to the room of people, who looked to be gearing up to leave Some of them were looking at him.

"Matthias," he grumbled, as he was known to do, figuring that they were expecting him to give his name in return for theirs (though he had not asked), "of Northaria." There was another Northarian among them that he could tell. Though the knowledge of her presence gave him little comfort, and in fact only stirred in him a lonesome, bitter homesickness. Did his family know he was safe? Did they think him dead? Had they mourned?

Stepping passed some of the others he made his way toward the opening, reaching to push back the flap. His fingers brushed the canvas, then hesitated, lingering there.

 
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Ezekiel 'Zeke' Marcellius

III✦III Location: Outside The Tent III✦III
III✦III Clan: (To'Bai) Westeros III✦III
III✦III Mentions: Naberius Naberius kase9187 kase9187 YumenoTsukishiro YumenoTsukishiro III✦III
III✦III Interactions: Lioness075 Lioness075 SilverFlight SilverFlight AncientBird AncientBird Elenion Aura Elenion Aura Saturn_moon Saturn_moon III✦III

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Red, that was the last hue he saw before his eyes fluttered open in a hurry. His dark chocolate eyebrows met and formed a worried expression on his face. Panic raced through his whole body as he felt a heavy weight on his chest, the moment he regained some of his senses. He was clueless once he saw the sight in front of him. It's a tent opening. What the-, he thought, but once he started thinking, his head would feel this tinge of buzz. His head hurt like hell and he couldn't do anything about it, but close his eyes once more. After a few minutes, Ezekiel heard faint voices coming from behind his back. With his curiosity taking over him, he slowly turned to face them with his eyes closed, pretending to sleep as he listened in their conversation.

As he continued to listen to their voices, not having his eyes peer open, he found the voices quite familiar, but then unfamiliar at the same time. He found it weird, and this unknown feeling absolutely infuriated him. He wanted to know what this feeling is, however, as the people's voices grew more in numbers, he found more information about their own theory on why they're there, for now, to him that information itself was satisfying enough. As he continued to eavesdrop, he was informed by everyone's name, once in a while, sneaking a peek on what their appearances look like. And he must say... What a friendly group of people these people are. He saw a blonde boy, playfully gesturing to another person with his elbows, trying to cheer the said person up with a carefree attitude.

He felt his hands form a fist in anger. Not a single bad bone, I see. Tsk, what a bunch of goody doers. He thought in a spiteful tone.

Ezekiel was annoyed at first when he woke up in the middle of an unknown place. His heart tightens at the thought of his lonely mother. He wondered who's taking care of her.
Is she alright?
Who's feeding her?
Why are none of them angry?
Do these people even have a family?
Why is everyone taking this so very lightly?
He could feel his jaw tighten, as he gritted his teeth in pure frustration. Zeke was almost at his breaking point with these people, their whole positive vibe was somehow infuriating to him. He has a sick mother, probably worrying at his whereabouts, while he lays there, irritated at himself for being a clueless idiot.

When the last person, introduces himself as Matthias, he has had enough and finally forced his upper body upward, focusing his amber eyes on the people who have awakened. It seems like they were preparing to depart. His analytical eyes landed on one of his throwing knives and quickly picked it up from the mini desk right beside his bed. Light shone through the tent and illuminated his chestnut complexion. As soon as his eyes landed back to the group, he couldn't help but watch them from afar with pure annoyance. They're not even aware of their surroundings! He thought as he felt his right eye twitch. Their carefree attitude simply annoyed him.

He noticed a boy with a nasty scar on his face, throw something at the short green-eyed boy and he quickly had an idea that would make his first (or second, he seems to be familiar with their presence) introduction more interesting. He lifted his long knife and aimed at the object mid-air. When he felt the time is right, he launched his knife with pure accuracy and landed on the target. He got off his bed and strutted his way over to the group of people and smugly took his dagger out of the beautifully crafted wooden piece and handed it over to the green-eyed boy himself. The mark his dagger made, made a completely prominent mark on the wooden piece.

What a shame.

"I have no business with making friends here, so the sooner the lot of you understand that, the better." He turned his back from the group and gathered his belongings. "And as for my name," He paused for a second and scanned the group wwith his yellow gaze. "You may refer to me as Ezekiel, but don't expect me to call you by your names." He harshly told them with a tone that is dripping with pure spite. Afterall, I only came here to achieve one thing and one thing only. With that, he finally walked out and felt the warm sunlight in his skin.
 
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Aldaf chuckled, his laughter a bit... sinister. He called out to Ezekiel before he exited the tent. "What a shame, that you felt the need to show off. Scared, are we?"
He smirked, pulling out another cube and whittling away, approaching the tent entrance. He walked past Ezekiel silently, making his way forward. "Don't worry. I won't tell." He whispered.
He walked off towards the festivities outside, whittling away while he whistled happily.
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Serik still sat upon his bed listening and witnessing all the conversations around him. Many people started leaving the tent, one in particular, a dark skin man, possibly from Westeros? Serik was unsure since the man didn’t introduce anything other than his name but he had seen people from that continent before during the times he visited the capital city with his family. The guy wasn’t very friendly and left the tent looking spiteful for somehow being here. Serik didn’t bother to think about it though, there were more important thing to consider...

What is he going to do now? Last time he remembered was he gathering woods in the snowy night. Did his friend find him during the time he blacked out? Did his family know about he turning up at The Proving? He began to feel nervous.

Serik eventually got up. He dug into his belonging. His precious knife, checked, bow set, checked, bolas, checked, money, checked, others... He made sure everything he brought from home was still with him.

“Alright, my belongings is here with me, so at least I was robbed. If fate somehow puts me here, I’d make the best out of situatuon. Now where do I start?” Serik spoke to himself and looked around.

If there was one thing he remembered, it his grandmother’s word. She used to say when Serik was little.

“When you are lost in an uneasy situation, don’t hesitate to ask for alliance, twigs binding together does not break as easily as a lonely one.”

Featuring: SleepyCreamy SleepyCreamy
 
Sarnai... that was definitely a name she had heard before. She looked at Gerel, studying his face. She couldn't figure out if he looked familiar because she actually knew him or because he simply carried the features of an Estendorian. Damn this memory loss.

"Everybody ready?" Aldaf asked as he looked over his gear.

"Why not..." She replied with a resigned sigh. "Sitting here isn't going to solve anything anyway." She stood up and stretched her legs before picking up her gear with some effort. Marylka was far from weak. The years of field work had helped her stay fit and develop a fair amount of strength. Still, she was only 5' 2" and the pack itself was nearly the same size as her torso.

Beside her was the hulking Northarian named Matthias. Despite his size, he exuded a sense of calm and wasn't quite as intimidating as she first thought. On the other hand, a boy named Ezekiel seemed to have made it his personal mission to antagonise everyone.

"I have no business with making friends here, so the sooner the lot of you understand that, the better." He declared.

She rolled her eyes. "No major loss there." She muttered under her breath.

She turned to find Matthias hesitating by the tent entrance. She walked up and tapped him on his shoulder. "Should we go?"

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Serik gathered his belongings, packed them up and walked toward the entrance.

There stood a large Northarian man names Matthias standing at the entrance. He was joined by the Estendorian girl earlier whose names is Marylka. Serik felt a bit awkward trying to speak to these strangers, especially the girl but he braved himself in anyway.

“Hello freinds, may I join you? I have no idea what to expect out there.” He said smilingly but also a bit awkwardly.

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