Take Back the Crown

   "I understand." The old woman said softly, "But we'll have to wait until we're on the move, or enter the city. We have injured, and I want to head out as soon as possible." She added, imagining how the rickety ride would jerk around her grandson's achy body, "I'll leave that to you then." She said to Oceana before grasping both their shoulders as a way to display support, and treading off in the direction of the carcass pile.


   By the time she had finished all her tasks, the group had managed to pick up the bloody mess for burning. She was thankful they did all that without her having to bark out orders, as she had been so preoccupied with her other dirty and morbid jobs. Without a blink of an eye, she flicked her fingers and a spark landed on the pile of bodies and parts, it burst into a green flame that enveloped the carnage, quickly shifting colors after it ignited. She would not allow herself the time to feel remorse for the daemons who she had once considered friends, there was a time to mourn and it was not now. She quickly gathered the group together before the large stone formation they had camped beside for shelter, and she had Garrett and Ashlar carry Alo's body towards a cot she had set up before the stone. Every companion had the chance to approach his body and pay their respects in their own ways, as there was hardly time for a full ceremony- this, was the best the witch could do. Aside from the soft prayers whispered over his body, there were no words uttered, only quiet stifled sobs from those who were closer to the boy- like Valeiah and Lilith. She had already shed her tears, to the point that she did not think she could cry anymore, and Svetlana only looked on solemnly.


   Once they were finished, she herself approached him. She ignited her hands in green flames, she closed her eyes and lifted her head. "Megi Dayar leiða þig í gegnum vatnsföllin sem koma á eftir," she started with a strong clear voice, speaking in the ancient language of her people, "og þú getur fundið frið í þar sem alltaf nýja heimilið þitt kann að vera..." she finished, and then with swift movement, she lifted her right hand towards the stone, and her left towards Alo's body.


   The boys body ignited into a colorful flame, unlike the flame which consumed the daemons. This one was warm, and filled with the witch's emotion and sentiment. As the flames danced across his body, his arms folded over his dagger, and his amulet wrapped around his right hand, that same image was burned into the large stone casting it's shadow over him. As her people did for those who died with honor, that stone became like a statue- depicting the honorable one in a peaceful sleep who would forever watch over the place in which they fell.


   When she was finished, the fire dissipated, and the wind carried his ashes over the plains and into the heavens, which to Svetlana, was a sign of his painless departure. The group spent a moment more in silence, for there were no words that could be said- no feelings expressed through mere speech. And when the sun finally peeked it's head over the horizon, Svetlana gathered her comrades into the caravans so they could once again continue their journey. To Valeiah she said, "One day, when this is all over, you and I shall visit this place again, hmm?" Though she did not wait for a reply.


   The rest of their trip was utterly quiet, as it had been ever since that morning- so much has happened, and in such little time. But Svetlana knew that with time, they would all recover, and their hopes and determination restored- even Valeiah. Though now, it probably felt like to her that this was the end of the line.


   Eventually, as the sun crept higher into the sky and casting clearer light on their path, the group realized they were finally traveling on a dirt road. They lifted their heads to see that the city was much closer now, as it towered over them with pride and strength. At this point, they would be seen by sentries, and Svetlana hoped they would send someone out to meet her...


@ everyone
​


(For those who want to know, her small prayer translated is this; "May the Dayar guide you through the rivers that come after, and may you find peace in where ever your new home may be...")
​
 
High atop a lookout tower, a knight stood perched with a spy glass. This tower was one of many along Tarfella's walls and the knight was one of many dressed in silver armor, blue trim glinting. Nodding to himself he slid the spyglass shut and hopped down to a ladder that led to the ground floor.


A woman in similar armor was waiting for him. A bolt of blue cloth fluttered behind her, held to her shoulders by intricate silver clasps. 


The knight saluted her, his right hand thumping against his chest plate.


"Knight-Commander, I believe I spotted what caused the surge of magic last night. There's a caravan of travelers fresh out of the desert."


The Knight-Commander nodded to her subordinate causing her argent hair to slide into her face. She tucked it back behind ears that would have been perfectly human if not for their gently pointed tips.


"Thank you, ser Kyle. June and I will ride out to meet them."


Ser Kyle paused, slightly shocked. Knight-Commander Jauquilinne hardly ever handled outsiders personally. Something on his face must have given him away because his Commander's lips appeared to curl just a fraction. 


"I simply have a feeling." She said cryptically. "These visitors; they won't be the average travelers."


Once Knight-Commander Jauquilinne L. Blaydhart mounted her horse, they were off. The gates had been cranked open and the three knights along with five guardsmen sped off in a cloud of dust towards the caravan on the horizon.


Once they were close enough to admire the dwarf-built wagons, the party of Tarfellans halted.


Jauquilinne took a deep breath.


"I am Knight-Commander Blaydhart of the Tarfellan knights." She called out, keeping her voice level but letting it carry.


"I wish to welcome you to our lovely city. Which among you is in command?"


@Lo Alyssa
 
   Brining the caravans and horses to a halt at the approach of the city's military, Svetlana sat patiently in her seat. When asked who the leader was, the witch tilted her head towards the princess who seemed rather solemn and hopeless. Clearing her throat, "Techincally, the leader of our group would be Princess Lucasta of the Valorian line- rightful heir to the Algorian throne, and whose fair head fits the broken crown perfectly..." she said grandly gesturing to the princess, "But I will handle the buisness in this instance being her advisor." She sent a concerned glance towards the girl before turning and facing the staunch woman before them- she held herself very well it seemed, and Svetlana assumed that she was a woman in charge.


   "Jarl Enok Frank is a good friend of mine, I will assume he's already been alerted of our presence." She said, "My companions and I are on a sacred venture to reclaim the lost crown of Algoran, which is no longer lost- we have even located one of the stones. But this mission has drawn the attention of powerful enemies, who have already caused us to lose one of our own in battle. I'm sure you took notice of the great commotion outside your walls last night, we took heavy hits and I request permission into your city, a meeting with your Jarl, but more importantly and firstly; a place for us to rest as our journey has left us quite weary and in need of some peace and quiet. My grandson is also severely injured and needs a better place to heal than my rickety caravans." She said with authority, unsure of the knights temperament.

 
Oceana froze at the voice that addressed them.


She had nearly forgotten.


She hunkered down further into her seat in the wagon next to Yaroslav's prone body.


Jauquilinne rode further forward so she would no longer have to call across the ten paces that separated her from the new comers.


"Of course." She sighed, slightly in acquiescence but also exasperation.


"I knew you all would be trouble." She professed. "No matter."


The commander rounded the caravan and trotted ahead a bit.


"Since you all are guests of the Jarl you can stay at my manor."


She spared a glance for the nervous princess.


"Anything for her Majesty." 


"I'll ride ahead and prepare the manor. Make your way on through the gates. Welcome."


@Lo Alyssa
 
Agitha kept to the back part of the caravan with her nose buried in her notebook, filling pages on what happened on their adventures in the past week. Looking up from under her traveling cloak's hood, she brushed a hand against the middle of her chest, a phantom pain gripping at her chest. Giving a small twinge she looked up as her horse gave a stop, tossing it's head as it's path was stopped. 


Looking up and taking off her hood, she let her shoulder length raven hair fluff up in the wind. Squinting against the light she looked up at the guards, a sudden feeling of smallness and anxiety gripping at her chest. /I feel small.../ gripping the reins of her horse, she shied her head down and back into her book, scribbling some more things down onto the pages.


Glancing up again, she blinked in question, finishing up a line of text she slapped her notebook shut and exhaled easily.
 
   Svetlana thanked her for the welcome, and promptly followed her through the steel gates which opened wide at their approach. The closer they got, the louder the city became- full of overlapping voices as all manner of people filled the brick streets doing business with each other- tourists, the residents, and outsiders. This city, aside from the kingdom of Valor before, was the center of trade in Algoran, so it was not surprising how loud and full it was. The streets were clean and well kept, the shops aligned to show off their merchandise in an alluring fashion. People made way for the caravans and the worn companions astride their horses, but stared in curiosity- not used to the dwarf-made coaches and the bloodied people around them. Svetlana was sure they would be the gossip of the city for days. There was no trying to hide who they were or what their mission was here, which was why she so loudly announced it at the gate.


   For most in their group, this would be their first time in the city. Lucas was one such person, and he gawked at all the new things, wondering if the Valorian city matched the glory of this place. But some had been here before, such as Ashlar who had done business with the shops, or Yaroslav and Svetlana who had passed through the city multiple times on their journeys.


   For Hjalmar, this was practically home- or at least the closest thing he had to one. But to him, this visiting was not necessarily a good thing. The boy hardly paid any attention to the crowds, the shops, or the merchandise displayed in the glass windows. His eyes were darting back and forth between the dark alleyways and the shingled roofs. This wasn't just his home after all, it was home to almost every well known thief in Algoran- his thoughts went to Ingvar particularity. Though, as unsurprising as it was, he could not see the man anywhere but it didn't help alleviate his anxieties. Ingvar was ever watchful, and Hjalmar had no doubt he knew he was there- he also knew that he'd be paid a visit sooner or later, which was something the boy had been desperately trying to avoid. Hjalmar knew that no manor would protect him either, there would be no place of refuge from Ingvar.


   Hjalmar's apprehension became quite apparent, as his horse nickered at him and snapped him from his frantic searching. The boy whipped his head ahead of him and then sighed, nearly startled by the sudden movement, and he patted the horse's neck affectionately, "I'm alright." He said, though he spoke too soon. He turned his head at the crowd to his right, and his eyes settled on a cloaked figure towards the back, just staring at him. Those eyes were undeniable, as was the matched crooked smile he wore upon his face- both belonged to none other than Ingvar. Hjalmar held his stare, cold sweat trickled down his face, and he gulped. Ingvar must have found it amusing because his smile widened into a toothy grin.


   Once the caravans passed the crowd, Hjalmar turned to look ahead. But he could still feel Ingvar's stare, boring holes into his back. Relief came only after they turned a corner, and the young thief realized he had been holding his breath. He released it, and then shuddered with apprehension. I hate that smelly rat, Hjalmar thought to himself. Every encounter he had with him, the boy felt so small and weak. Like a fly must feel caught in a web so tightly wrapped around it, that there's nothing left to do but be eaten by the hungry spider that spun it.


@ everyone 
​
 
Kacel'la looked around curiously as the group rode into the city, mentally comparing everything to other ones she had seen in different lands and kingdoms. An idea suddenly struck her.


"Nobody will chase after you, will they?" She whispered to Dorian. The thief often had had dealings in this city.


"They know me by my mask, not my face. I'm not an amateur." The assassin rolled his eyes. "And I'm not planning to go on a run through the city with it on."


Something suddenly caught Dorian's eye: Hjalmar was acting quite strange, almost like he had seen a ghost in the crowd they were passing. So he urged his horse forward until he was next to the younger thief.


"Is everything alright?" He asked quietly.


@Lo Alyssa
 
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   Hjalmar had been so deep in his thoughts, he jumped a little at Dorian's approach. He cursed himself for being so obviously uneasy, he knew better than that. He exhaled in an attempt to calm himself and then shrugged his shoulders in response to Dorian's question, "I'm fine." He said, "I just thought I saw someone I know, but I was wrong." He added on, hoping to leave it at that and not be pressed for answers. Though, the young thief didn't expect that from Dorian. He was kind enough to back off and take a hint when given one- someone like Svetlana or Phaedra on the other hand, if they had caught him they'd likely keep asking until he slipped up and said something.


   Internally, Hjalmar knew there was no point lying to Dorian- who was a master at that. But that last thing Hjalmar wanted to do was get anyone involved with Ingvar.

 
Dorian was about to tell the thief to be better at lying: nobody was so startled after being wrong about seeing someone. But he thought better, noticing that Hjalmar seemed to want to drop the topic. He had a couple guesses for why, especially after that the thief had given him the hint that the source of the fear was some person Hjalmar knew and had just seen.


"Alright then." He nodded. "A tiny unrelated reminder: you are in a team now. That's sometimes good to remember."


@Lo Alyssa
 
Oceana hunkered further down in her seat. She stuffed her nose into the crook of her elbow and watched the back entry to the wagon nervously.


She didn't want to stay with the Knight-Commander. The voice that practically ordered them to stay with her still echoing in her mind.


Just like last time.


She hated being in the city; All the smells and sounds and people swarming all over.


Just like last time...


The feeling of overcrowded civilization made the huntress so homesick she nearly vomited onto poor Yaro.


A lightning strike of panic lit in her heart and she knew it was not her own. The imprint on the emotion, however, was familiar.


"Hjalmar..." came the gasp.


He's so... afraid... 


She had an overwhelming urge to comfort him and it made her recoil in horror.


"He's just a human!" She hissed to herself. And tried her best to shake it off.


Never would she admit she was avoiding the outside world and all the human hustle and bustle.


The elf closed her eyes again.


Just like him, she was afraid.


Me too, she silently whispered across the dark void to no one in particular.


@Lo Alyssa
 
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   Hjalmar smiled at the statement, but said nothing. He couldn't trust anyone, he was adamant about that in his heart. He found it funny that he was receiving that sort of advice from Dorian of all people- the guy who usually seemed to function just fine by himself. It wasn't that Hjalmar didn't want to trust his comrades, it was that he couldn't. That never ended well for him, no matter how well mannered or trustworthy they seemed. It wasn't like any of them trusted him anyway, he was a thief after all. And Hjalmar was not a familiar bound to a mage that would keep him in check, so perhaps that made him seem a greater threat.


   He sighed. Svetlana led the group through the intricate maze of streets until she finally halted the group at the marketplace where she planned on waiting for the knight, who had rushed off to prepare her manor, to lead the way as Svetlana had no idea where it was located. Yaroslav let out a sigh of relief as the rickety ride finally came to a stop, and his jostled aching body could finally rest. The warrior had a high pain tolerance, but this wound was the worst he could remember ever getting. He could not sleep the entire ride there, or even when they were stopped. Though Svetlana had protested, he managed to get on his feet and join their ceremony for Alo too, so that probably didn't help him much.


   When Hjalmar saw that they stopped, he brought his horse up to Svetlana, "If we're waiting, there's something I'd like to do real quick. It won't take me long." He said as he got off of his horse and headed towards an alleyway. The witch merely gave him a look of suspicion, but nodded in acknowledgement. She hopped off her seat and headed towards the back of the caravan. Some people were coming close- as if they thought she was a traveling merchant... at one time, that would have been true. But she had new business in order, "Sorry folks, we're not merchants. Just mere travelers. No trinkets or gadgets to sell today!" The people nearby gave small disappointed looks, but quickly carried on with their lives as the witch entered the back of the caravan. She left the door open, hoping to fill the room with some fresh air for Yaroslav who was sure to need it.


   "Hjalmar is going off to do something sneaky." She said to both him and Oceana who was sitting not too far from him.


   "Probably going off to steal something." Yaroslav grumbled, "He is a thief after all, I wouldn't put it past him."


   "I am not so sure, Yaro." The witch disagreed, "Valuables are usually not found in shady alleyways."



 
​


   As soon as Hjalmar entered the dark alley, he lifted his hood, and tightly gripped the hilt of his short sword that was strapped to his side in apprehension. He had to turn a few corners, but Hjalmar knew what he saw earlier. Ingvar wouldn't show himself in public like that unless he wanted to talk to him. Better to get it over with now than to wait and anger him further.


   He turned a left corner, and was met with a waft of foul odor. His nose crinkled in disgust, and he looked ahead to see a crumpled figure on the ground, flies already making a feast out of it. It was a body, no doubt. There was a pool of blood leaking out from underneath. Hjalmar cautiously approached, he had seen this sort of thing before. He used his boot to push over the body and reveal who it was. He was met with a young man's face, brown locks of hair, blues eyes- wide and afraid as his last look of horror was frozen on his face. His mouth was wide open as if he was in the middle of screaming. Blood streamed down from his nose, ears, mouth, even his eyes. What was worse is that Hjalmar knew who this person was... he was one of the newer recruits in Turus, the web of thieves run by Ingvar. The boy stared with a hardened expression.


   "Well, well, Mar Mar." He heard a cool voice sing above him. He turned his head slowly, he knew who it was already. There, on the edge of a shingled roof, sat Ingvar. His cloak down this time, as he was in the comfort of shadows, "I see you've stumbled upon what's left of Ethyr. Poor lad, just wanted to be free and refused to pay homage to me. Gave me no other choice but to kill him." Hjalmar said nothing, but his glare spoke a million words.


   The man laughed, "Oh, I never get tired of that defiant look in your eyes. But that's all you can do, isn't it Mar? Just look. See, Ethyr here thought it was a grand idea to deny me what was owed, kind of like I know you've been thinking about. And don't lie, you're horrible at it." Ingvar hopped down from his seat to the floor, nudging Ethyr's lifeless body, "You haven't paid me in three weeks." He said without turning his head.


   "Those golden scales I gave you should have been enough for at least a month, we've been traveling in the empty plains for Dayar's sake, nothing of value to be found there." Hjalmar finally uttered in defense of himself. Ingvar just looked over with a grin, "No, not enough. And I'm growing impatient."


   He strode towards Hjalmar and wrapped his arm around the boy's neck like they were best friends, "I need a whole Turus safe's worth of gold by the end of this week." Hjalmar picked his arm off and stepped back, "A safe's worth? That's... I would need to rob half the city in order to give you that much!"


   Ingvar just shrugged with an innocent look on his face, "It's really not that much to ask considering all that I've done for you." He said.


   Hjalmar raised an eyebrow and scoffed, "All that you've done for me? You stripped me of everything I had."


   Ingvar glowered at him dangerously, Hjalmar gulped, he must have crossed a line, "And what exactly did you have that I stripped you of, hmm?" The man seethed, "You mean that literal hell hole you grew up in with your dear old mother where even the sky could hardly be seen from the bottom? The life where you could barely get food and water to sustain you, the life where you had to be on the run every single day for crimes you didn't even commit? Don't forget that when I found you, you were a weak sniveling whelp who had nothing left to live for. It was I that gave you a place to stay, I put warm food in your belly, I gave you a bed to rest your pathetic head, I gave you purpose- me!" He almost shouted at the end. Hjalmar shuffled his feet, but didn't say anything, "Still so ungrateful. I should have left you to rot... get me that money by the end of this week, or you're going to end up just like Ethyr here. I'm growing tired of dealing with your incompetence."


   "What you're asking of me..." Hjalmar began, his voice low, "It's impossible. What on earth could I steal that could fill up a safe in Turus."


   Ingvar chuckled, giving him an unsavory expression, "Oh, I think you know." Hjalmar's eyes widened at the statement... The crown, he wants me to steal the crown, "No, Ingvar." Hjalmar said angrily, "You ask too much this time. I'm not going to steal from my... well, my friends."


   "Awe, so you've grown attached, have you? Tsk tsk tsk, Mar Mar, you should know better than to trust friends, they only ever let you down even after you've given them your all." He said, unsheathing his long knife, it threateningly glinting in the sunlight, "But if that's how you want to be, then I guess your usefulness has finally come to an end." With that, Ingvar plowed towards Hjalmar, slamming him against the wall and pressing the knife against his throat, enough so that it cut him, and blood trickled down his neck. They were both silent for a moment, Hjalmar guessed his halt was a way of giving the boy a second chance to reconsider his decisions. And the boy did.


   "Alright, alright." Hjalmar said in a hoarse whisper, "I'll get you the money."


   "But you just said it was impossible, hmm?" There was a wild look in his eyes, "Why should I spare you if you're totally incapable of serving any purpose to me?"


   "... Because I want to live." Hjalmar said with a small voice.


   Ingvar raised an eyebrow, and after an agonizing moment, he stepped away and sheathed his dagger. Hjalmar grabbed his throat, quickly wiping the blood away, he would need to be sure that his scarf covered it up so no one noticed when he returned, "You have until the end of this week." He heard Ingvar say, though by the time he looked up, the man was gone without a trace. Hjalmar's eyes turned to the body again. He was going to be in that same position and lying in his own pool of blood if he didn't get Ingvar that money. And he only had a week. Hjalmar slid to the floor, his hand still pressed against his neck... this was so hopeless. He began pondering on how he could go about stealing the crown- the group trusted him enough that he could probably take it without being noticed... But the thought of betraying the princess and all of his friends like that... No, he would just have to find some other way. The thought of telling his comrades about his predicament often came across his mind, but it was followed by the image of Ingvar killing them all- which he was perfectly capable of doing.


   No, he would have to find some other way, and he would have to do it alone.
 
Oceana was thankful for her elven hearing when she was able to steal into an alley a dozen and a half paces away and still hear the conversation between Hjalmar and his boss.


Once she heard what Hjalmar would have to steal to pay his debts, she stalked away quickly.


The huntress was worried for the thief but she knew she would have to take her leave quick before either of them noticing her.


She couldn't help him if she was a dead husk lying in a pool of her own blood like the sorry fool in the corner.


Recalling the twists and turns was as simple as tracking a buck and she was about to gingerly creep back into the Yaro's wagon when she grudgingly admitted to herself that she should probably show face.


She would never let them know her fear.


Sidling up to the group, she kept an eye on the crowds of humans swirling about them. Every so often, if she looked close enough, she saw elves and fae sprinkled among the masses, gracefully making their way as if floating rather than walking.


Speaking of floating..., she thought as she turned to look at Phaedra. She hadn't had a chance to check on the others after the carnage last night, she had been busy with Yaro. Now that she looked, she inwardly winced. 


We must look a right mess...


She suddenly felt silly for worrying about them. The elf, after all, wasn't a mother or caretaker in any sort of way.


She thought once again about Hjalmar and the image of his boss smirking.


The smug bastard!


This resulted in her glaring in Phaedra's direction unknowingly. A gesture that could very well get her in trouble.


@Lo Alyssa


@TeeKay
 
   After regaining his composure, Hjalmar stood to his feet with a grunt. The bleeding on his neck finally stopped, so he tugged his scarf up a little higher as to hide the cut. He wiped his hands on his pants, trying to get the blood off, but it didn't make much of a difference anyway- they arrived already covered in grime and blood. He gave one last look to Ethyr, imagining the pain he must have felt as Ingvar invaded his mind and inflicted every kind of suffering upon him in his wrath. I might be joining you soon, Hjalmar grimly thought to himself, and he turned to make his way out of the alley.


   Hobbling along the cobblestone streets, he returned to his horse. Making no eye contact with anyone, and keeping his mouth sealed, he got onto his horse and sat in silence.
 

Being within Tarfella was familiar, giving Phaedra a small sense of comfort to be within city walls once again. It had been a long time since they had known true shelter. Even nestled within the canyons and cliffs that the dwarves dwelled - though they were likely the most hospitable group of people she'd ever known - she still felt the tickle of danger hanging over her. Perhaps it was the fact that one could disappear and simple exist within the diverse crowds. Phaedra's mixed blood may have stood out for a moment or two, but that was all - she would simply become a oddity for that split moment. A memory soon forgotten, like parchment lazily stolen by a gust of wind, drifting away until it was out of sight and out of mind. Nobody here in this group - at least that she was aware of - really stood out among the city crowds. At previous small towns they would roll through, it would come with gawkers and gossips. Here? They were hardly worth a moment's glance, save for admiration of their masterwork wagons. The moment people were shooed away, made aware they weren't merchants, they immediately became faces not worth knowing.
​


 
​


A glimpse of movement out of the corner of her eye lead Phaedra's eyes to Oceana who had turned to look at her and glare. It had been weeks since they had fought and the feelings of animosity Phaedra had had been replaced by something else after Alo's death. She wasn't sure what the feeling was, however. What mattered was she felt no ill will towards Oceana at this moment. It wouldn't have been the first time she was insulted for being a half-breed and she certainly had enough time to consider that they were both simply too stubborn to approach each other. Or perhaps Oceana was still angry?
​


Somehow, despite the hateful stare in her direction, Phaedra was prompted to float towards Oceana.
​


 
​


"Do you have a moment? Privately."
​


Phaedra chose to ignore the look for now. There was something she needed off her chest as she played with a rolled up piece of parchment in her hands behind her back, lending to a sort of meekness to her.
​


 
​

 
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Seeing that the caravan had stopped until they figured out what they wanted to do, Aggie looked around at the little shops they were stopped at. Leaning down to look at the wares, she decided it was best to tie her horse to the back of the caravan and hopped off her horse with her coinpurse in hand, hidden in her long cloak. 


The merchant happily stood up from her pile of pillows and spoke about her wares of broaches, jewelry and little tidbits. One necklace caught her eye, one with a large pink crystal in the shape of a teardrop surrounded by silver embellishments ( x ). Just before she was about to pick it up, another hand quickly went and swiped it up. Opening her mouth to retaliate she stopped when the hand held it up near her neck, admiring it,"Its pretty."


"Yes it is...I was just about to pick that up actually.."


"I know." the dark skinned man replied as he handed the merchant a handful of clean and new silver coins. 


The merchant looked through the coins and looked up, almost angry."I don't think these are real, sir." while shifting the coins through her hands. 


With a sly smile the man placed the necklace in Aggie's hand, in which she held out flat on her palms, looking between the merchant and the strange elf man,"I don't think I can-"


"Oh they are very real." he lifted his head and offered a kind smile,"If you would like I could pay in smaller coin." heh smiled as the woman nodded.


"Please."


Aggie looked down at the necklace with worry, looking over at the two as they exhanged the currency,"Who..who are you?" the mage managed to squeak out. 


Looking over to her, the man's orange eyes was filled with confusion,"What? Do you not know?"  placing hand on her back he turned her towards the dirty mirror that was hung up on the stand and leaned his face close to her's so they both looked at the mirror,"Take a nice long hard look."



Agitha looked while clutching the gifted necklace in her hands, almost too tightly that it almost dug into her palms, her eyes wide with confusion,"I don't.."


"You don't know your own father, Agitha." the man smiled. 


Tearing away from the man she gave him a quick lookover, a cold chill going down her back. She didn't feel comfortable at all, honestly. Looking back at the caravan she was hoping for someone to go and intervene with this...strange dark elf.


@all
 
Kacel'la was looking around, trying to find what she could do while everyone seemed to just be loitering around. Something caught her eye: Aggie, looking extremely uncomfortable next to some guy. Plastering on her friendliest smile, she went off to intervene.


"Hey Aggie, find something pretty?" She asked as she partially elbowed, partially body-checked the man as she stepped in next to Aggie, making everything look accidental, of course.


"I'm sorry sir, I do get quite clumsy." She threw an innocent and apologetic smile at the guy before turning back to Agitha.


@Tater
 
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Aggie kept her gaze locked on the man, flicking her gaze along his features. Looking at the mirror and back to him, she tipped her head with question,"I-." twitching as Kacel'la came up and elbowed the man, she gripped the hem of her shirt with her thumb and pointer finger for comfort, peering at the man as he recooped after the bump. 


Offering a smile he tipped his head and placed his palm out in a gesture,"I understand. The marketplace is quite a busy place, in fact I'm not all surprised that I met my dear little daughter here."


The black haired woman looked down at her feet a tad overwhelmed at this situation.


@L1d1ja
 
Oceana nearly jumped out of her skin at Phaedra's voice. She glanced at the sylph, suddenly all too aware that she had been glaring.


"I-I'm so sor-...!" She cut herself off, cheeks flushed and tried to process the mage's request.


"I-If you wish..." The huntress murmured shyly, nervously. She was still embarrassed about losing her temper before and had been secretly avoiding speaking to Phaedra. The sylph always seemed to bring out the worst in her and she had not a clue how to deal with it.


Like just now.


Not to mention she was floating a tad too close and the elf was getting lost in her heterochromatic eyes.


Shaking herself out of it, she tried her best not to look antagonistic in any way. She actually admired Phaedra quite a bit and felt terrible for her words from before.


She held her hands out to her sides as if to say "I'm all yours"


@TeeKay
 

Phaedra nodded, finding herself drifting a few inches closer to the elf, trying to keep her words private from the others. She was embarrassed to be the first to apologize, though Phaedra was never good at burning bridges either. Stubborn. A trait that she and Oceana shared, she noted.
​


 
​


As she struggled to find her words, a deep violet flush crept across her cheeks and her brows furrowed. This was admittedly a far more difficult endeavor than the sylph had anticipated.
​


 
​


"Oceana, I..." She sighed heavily. Did she really need to do this? "I understand if we can't see eye to eye and if you truly feel so bitterly towards my existence because of race alone, but I hope that.. that maybe you'd accept my apology?"
​


 
​


It came out as a question and a nervous one at that. She pulled the parchment she was wringing anxiously behind her back and presented it to Oceana.
​


 
​


"I, ah.. I wrote a poem. I have taken note how you've enjoyed song, so I thought maybe you'd enjoy literature and poetry as well? I hope this will be an adequate gift."
​


 
​


As Phaedra held it to Oceana, she bowed down. Whether it was out of respect or simply because she was too flushed and embarrassed to look the elf in the eyes any longer was up for debate.
​


 
​


The crumpled parchment read:
​


"Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
​


And sorry I could not travel both
​


And be one traveler, long I stood
​


And looked down one as far as I could
​


To where it bent in the undergrowth;
​


Then took the other, as just as fair,
​


And having perhaps the better claim,
​


Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
​


Though as for that the passing there
​


Had worn them really about the same,
​


And both that morning equally lay
​


In leaves no step had trodden black.
​


Oh, I kept the first for another day!
​


Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
​


I doubted if I should ever come back.
​


I shall be telling this with a sigh
​


Somewhere ages and ages hence:
​


Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
​


    I took the one less traveled by,
​


    And that has made all the difference."
​


((This is by Robert Frost, btw))
​


 
​

 



Nameen's travels had taken her to several larger cities, yet none had been impressive as this.  She was marvelling silently even before they entered, feeling unusually small next to the proud city walls.  


As expected, the inside of Tarfella kept true to it's exterior.  The street they were led upon wound tightly in between a grand mixture of street shops and merchant stands, among other displays.  The carrying tunes of street musicians and the sounds of chatter providing a constant background hum completed the image.  


Strolling contently at the back of their entourage, Nameen took in as much of the image as her eye could see.  She almost felt comfortable, their mismatched band being only one of the many bizarre things that came with a stroll through the city.  Her gaze went back to the group for a moment, enough to see Hjalmar exchange a quick word with Svetlana before melting into the crowd.  Seconds later, Oceana swiftly followed.  Interesting.


Before she could think a lot of it however, something else caught Nameen's eye.  


A large display window for a smith's shop prominently showed off a varied collection of longswords, to wicked hunting knives and intricately decorated daggers.  She found herself stepping away from the caravans, if only for a moment's admiration, before resuming her position bringing up the rear.  


Uncle's were better, she couldn't help but think as she recalled some of her relative's most impressive work.  


They continued on, carving their way through the hustle, and Nameen found herself wondering where the group was headed as they travelled deeper in to the city. 


@/anyone 


.  
 
Oceana simply stared for a moment, shocked by the unexpected words of apology. It was she who had acted so foolishly before.


"No no.." she exclaimed "It's I should apologize. I didnae really mean... ah... I'm sorry"


And then there was a piece of parchment suddenly thrust at her from the blushing sylph.


Once she heard that it was a poem, a smile simply burst onto the elf's face.


"H-how did you know...?" She wondered aloud "I adore poetry" came the shy whisper. 


Her cheeks burned with the blush this gift caused but it almost felt nice.


She gingerly took the parchment into a nimble hand.


Out of reflex, the raven haired huntress attempted to bow low but ended up clipping her forehead on Phaedra's chin.


She internally slapped herself and apologized rapidly once again, a hand to her now aching brow.


"Duilich! Tha mi duilich!" She muttered, eyes shut tight for fear of reprimand. "I'm sorry..."


@TeeKay
 
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Kacel'la looked at the man, then at Aggie a couple of times, comparing their features, but ended up only shrugging. However, she did notice that the other woman did look quite overwhelmed, so she decided to give her an excuse in case she wanted to walk away.


"Wanna go check what the other merchants have?" She asked.


@Tater
 

Phaedra gave a large sigh of relief as the huntress accepted her gift and her apology, though as she was about to reply, the mage let out a sharp cry that was more out of alarm than out of pain at the sudden contact with her chin. One of her delicate hands went immediately to rub the now sore spot as she straightened herself, amusement in her eyes now. It couldn't be contained for long as the sylph let out a loud laugh, hand still at her chin.
​


 
​


"Ah, just look at us!" Phaedra giggled. "That was an honest mistake, Oceana. Don't apologize for that. Though.."
​


 
​


With the final word, she trailed off. Slowly, she was getting back on to the topic at hand, the mirthful expression fading. It wasn't necessarily a bad thing, as it was apparent that Phaedra was gaining confidence now and the nervous demeanor had also vanished.
​


"I hope that - though my words before were harsh - perhaps you understood where I was coming from. With much thought, I believe I see a part of why you do what you do." Phaedra paused, then shifted her gaze to meet Oceana's eyes once more. "After the event's of last night, I feel the need to let you know that despite how heated we may get that.. th-that.."
​


She struggled with these last words. It was hard enough to admit to Kacel'la and Nameen. And she still had to tell the others in varying ways as well.
​


"That I care. I genuinely care for your well being. It needs to be said. Just in case I never get a chance. I'm doing all I can to help protect all of you and not be a burden and I don't want any bad blood."
​


The telltale violet flush returned with a vengeance, coloring up to the tips of her ears, though she still maintained eye contact. Phaedra wanted to be sure her words were taken seriously, after all. The only indication of her discomfort would be her wringing her hands.
​


 
​

 
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Looking her arm with the woman's, she looked at the man, the chill still lingering around her spine. Peering around Kacel'la's shoulder to look at the man.

Their eyes met for a moment and Aggie's lower lid twitched slightly as she pulled away slightly. Looking at the mirror at herself and then back at the man, then repeated the motion once or twice, Aggie moved her arm from a hook to a simple sleeve grab,"Who are you?" she managed to quip.


Right away the man perked up and smiled, sweeping his long red cloak back from his hands and putting his arms to the side,"My name is Renfeir." sweeping his left hand onto his chest and just under the red brooch pinned to his neck, he stuck his other arm out towards the two women, palm up as he bowed deeply, bending at the waist. 


Swallowing slightly, Aggie nodded a little and opened her mouth."You said..daughter?"


"Ah yes!"


Aggie gave him a wary look, looking up at the wyvern blooded companion of her's wondering if she was picking up on anything suspicious that she wasn't.


"You don't believe me. I understand such." taking note of the golden broach that rested just on her chest, he smiled and pointed to his own, unpinning it and turning it over. On the back was an engraving, dirtied and worn by years of wear and tear,"Does this look familiar?"


Freezing, Aggie shot her hand up to her own decorative gold and ruby broach on her chest. Unclipping it she held it in her palm, turning it over in her hand and looking down at it,"I-"


( the symbol x ) 
 
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Oceana, expression sobered, let her hands drop to her sides.


She was unsure how to receive this emotional confession.


She decided that, between them at least, she could speak only the truth.


"Yes I have reasons for doing what I do. And for distrusting humans." She said, unflinching under the direct eye contact. 


"But I would never wish suffering on another creature, human or otherwise." Her eyes faded from hard glaciers to lakes of emotion.


"It's simply... hard. To open up...A-and I donnae plan to get particularly close to anyone. We could all die tomorrow..."


And I don't want to lose any other cherished people.


The tide rose and waves of determination crested in her gaze.


"But by the gods, I will do my sworn best to keep us all healthy and hale as best I can."


The huntress hoped that would be enough for the sylph, trying her best to mirror such a heartfelt action from one so logical.


"A huntress' word is contract before the gods." She added somberly, hoping her sincerity would somehow shine through. Not once did she look away from Phaedra's eyes, such different hues housed by the same face.


Perhaps that describes us perfectly, she and I... our whole group.


Various hues of being, all housed by the same fate.


Her brows furrowed, in fear and in anger.


We'll all suffer the destruction of Algoran if we can't stop Kavacht.


@TeeKay
 
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