Fantasy The Fight for Freedom: Mïrarl

[RealisticFantasy]

Mai'vryn Bannighymn
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She and her entourage had been traveling for over a week on end. They did stop to rest when night fell but it was an absolutely tiring trip nonetheless. Worse than that, it was terribly boring. The second Mai'vryn decided she couldn't go another day talking to the same five people and decided to attempt friend-making, she was pulled from the situation and informed that it was a royal 'honor' to speak with her. As such, commoners were 'privileged' enough to speak directly to her. Some weren't even good enough to speak to her translator, apparently.

They had decided to take her on a tour of Mïrarl prior to her meeting the prince. She was told that it was for her pleasure - though pleasure certainly wasn't what she was experiencing. It didn't take a scholar to realize that the 'scenic route' was a power move. They wanted to show her off, like a prize to be won. They wanted the entire kingdom of Mïrarl chattering and gossiping and thinking about her.

They carried banners with them of the Bannighymn coat of arms. Their horses were decorated with glimmering jewels to catch the eye and clattering metal adornments to catch the ear. A highly unnecessary escort of soldiers on all sides protected the queen from potential threats (and implied a vast, capable army).

They were nearing the southern coast of Mïrarl, which would be the end of the first leg of their parade. Any signage they had passed was hand carved into a slab of wood and pointed only to a small village or town.

"I'm terribly bored, niasa," Mai mumbled, toying with the mane of her horse, Nim, as they trotted along.

"Well, this journey isn't for your enjoyment," Her chief adviser, Vaeril, answered shortly. He knew where the conversation was headed by Mai's tone of voice and how she had addressed him. Niasa meant ally in high Raeyllish and she only called him it when she wanted something. In this case, she wanted something unattainable - her freedom.

"But, niasa," Mai started to whine but Vaeril interrupted her.

"Tari, I don't have time for this. This meeting with the prince is the most important thing we've dealt with yet."

"I think saving my kingdom from ruin was fairly important," Mai mumbled under her breath which earned her a strong glare from Vaeril.

"You don't understand the amount of pressure I'm under, tari," Vaeril continued, "It's a very stressful situation."

"You are stressed? You?" Mai exclaimed with a scoff. "Sirrah, I've tried on my whole wardrobe on at least seven different instances. My hair has been styled in every way imaginable. I am told about my complexion, my eye color, the thickness of my hair, my height, the width of my feet - all things I cannot change! I've been poked, prodded, examined, judged, styled, dressed, undressed, redressed, and have lost countless hours of sleep because of it. I am treated like a glass sculpture yet my hair is tugged and my clothes ripped off like a child's toy. I've been bathed in lotions, oils, ointments, elixirs, and perfumes. And, all I ask for is a cold ale and someone who isn't the same five people I've been talking to for the past fifteen years of my life."

"Tari, you must understand the importance of-"

"Sirrah, I swear to Tirasea, if you do not let me go, I will make you do so!" The whole entourage halted suddenly with her exclamation and all eyes turned to Vaeril. There was a long quiet moment, the silence broken only by Mai's heavy breathing brought on by her monologue.

"Where do you wish to go, my tari?" Vaeril asked finally, his confidence transforming into respectful submission.

"There," Mai answered shortly to a sign like many others they had seen on the journey down - 'Waunkur.'

The ride to the village was fairly short and enjoyable, at least to Mai. Vaeril didn't want to risk hesitation in finding the nearest tavern. Though Mai had shown reserve and good judgement in the past, it wasn't guaranteed she would always do so and while that risk posed no threat of death, a large demotion was just as terrifying.

The collection of knights, soldiers, advisers, and translators pooled around the building. Everything about them called for attention and Mai couldn't help but feel a flush of embarrassment. This sort of attention was a reminder of the threat of not living up to expectations. Many have heard of the 'young queen,' but few are aware of the extent. No one believes that all of this belongs to such a young woman and the surprise is nearly palpable when the discovery is made, especially in Mïrarl where she would not yet be deemed to be an adult for several years.

As her cheeks flush, Mai's gaze drops to her feet as she runs her hand along the back of Nim. She lifts it in brief flashes to grab short glances at the crowd beginning to form. Did they think her rude? Childishly shy? Reserved?

No. She pushed away the thoughts, swallowed thickly, and held her head high. Vaeril lead the way into the tavern and Mai followed. She didn't understand the name of the establishment because she couldn't read Mïrarlan or Veparian. Frankly, she couldn't even tell the difference between the two in writing. Her speech in either was heavily accented and she sometimes substituted words with their Raeyllish equivalent, but she could get her point across.

"Clear the building. It is now reserved for the young queen of Raeyllis, most honored Däirae, Mai'vryn Bannighymn and her company," Vaeril announced in Veparian with a regal tone.

Mai rushed to his side, shaking her head. "I do not think that is necessary, niasa," Mai said hurriedly in Raeyllish as the other patrons now had their eyes glued to the group pouring in.

"You can't dine with commoners, tari," Vaeril scoffed, motioning for the barkeep to do as instructed.

​

 

[KingofAesir]

JAULL HAUCRUSS
"Doesn't the land seem to call to you? "

She was supposed to be washing dishes but, as anyone who knew her could tell you, Ekwaurk Haucruss's daughter never quite did what she was supposed to do. You see, her father had her out all last night, running from house to house of every down low drunkard in Waunkur and demanding their debt from their poor wives or sad eyed children which answered the door. Jaull always felt sorry for those people, not the drunkards, but their families. She supposed she was lucky her father didn't drink away his coin. But, as everyone in Waunkur could tell you, Ekwaurk Haucruss had never been the same after his wife passed. Everyone always told Jaull how lovely her mother was and how much like Losussi Jaull was. Jaull wondered of her mother was ever tired like this. She supposed so, as one of the fishermens wife has been pregnant for about three months now and she's always tired.

Jaull set a bowl aside and stared down at the water sitting inside their wash basin. The water swirled around for a minute because of her movement before it went still, only the occasional ripple disturbing the surface. Jaull groaned and let her head rest carefully against the edge of the wash basin. Dishes could wait, she just needed a little power nap, that was all. It would only be for a few minutes. What harm could a few minute break cause? Jaull nodded contentedly and let her eyes slide shut. It would be far more than a few minutes that Jaull lay there asleep and in the upstairs of The Lonely Griffon an odd scene was taking place.

"You heard the man. I'll not be disrespecting a queen, even if she is Raellyish. Out! You too, Pennw!" Ekwaurk watched as the few workless stragglers occupying his tavern shuffled away with mumbles of dislike. Oliver Pennw shook his head of greasy black hair and flipped a finger in Ekwaurk's direction.

"Don't you let them Raellyish ruin anything now!" And with that, he strutted his way out of the tavern. Pennw might've been a proud man, but he wasn't about to get himself killed over a petty argument about staying in a tavern because the Queen would want peace of course.

"You'll have to excuse him," Ekwaurk remarked in his cool Mïrarlian accented voice and a broad, charming smile as he stepped out from behind his counter. "He hasn't got a brain in his head, 'spite all that money." Ekwaurk clicked his heels together and offered a short bow. Royalty was royalty no matter where they were from. "Haucruss, at your service. I hope you don't intend to eat in my tavern without allowing myself and my keep to serve you? " Ekwaurk had no intentions of leaving the premises of his tavern, he lived here after all. Ekwaurk straightened himself up, scanning the group, careful not to linger on the queen too long. His gaze settled on the man who had ordered everyone out. He cleared his throat, "I can supply most anything, my daughter has excellent skills as a cook." Ekwaurk turned and frowned at the lack of Jaull, only to turn back to the group, "A moment." He turned around again, "Jaull!"

Back down in the basement, Jaull startled awake, effectively slamming her head painfully against the basin. "Jaull, hurry won't you!?" Jaull grimaced at her fathers call, what could he want now? She stood from her seat and dusted herself off with a mutter curse word, she was off toward the stairs, gabs to her head. The climb only took a few seconds before she emerged from the depths of the tavern, almost getting her dress caught in the door as she came.

"Damnit. Curse this useless piece of rag." She tugged the dress away from the door and turned to her father, rubbing at her eyes idly. "What is it you need, fa-" Jaull was cut short as brown eyes fell apon their company. She stood still for a moment before her father cleared his throat and she startled into a bow, nearly falling, clumsy as she was. Jaull's face was in the process of turning a bright shade of crimson as she straightened back up, eyes glued to the ground, and hands folded behind her back. She had just cursed in front of the queen of Raellyis, and quite loudly too, might she add. How much more terrible could her week get? "I-um.. terribly sorry." She scratched the back of her head akwardly and tried not to cower under her fathers glare.

"It would appear that my daughter hasn't for any brains either." Ekwaurk hissed through his teeth, but managed to keep his smile. "So, what'll it be? Would you allow us to give you a warm welcome to Mïrarl?" Jaull scuffed her shoe against the wood laden floors as her father spoke, still standing as still as humanly possible for fear of emabarassing herself even more than she already had.

Location
The Lonely Griffon​

Feeling
Tired​

Interactions​

RealisticFantasy

 

[RealisticFantasy]

KingofAesir

Mai'vryn Bannighymn
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Mai began to feel guilty as the patrons filtered out of the tavern. Her intent had been to sneak into the crowd and relax unnoticed but Vaeril wanted to make a show of absolutely everything. She could practically hear the crowd outside, chattering and daring each other to go in and sneak a peek at the young queen.

The mood shifted when a young woman, presumably Jaull, entered. Mai didn't quite understand what she said but the response to it was felt throughout the group. Several of the soldiers, many of whom had taken it about themselves to take a seat, found humor in it, chuckling and elbowing each other. Some stood sour-face and tight-lipped. Others, Vaeril particularly, were terribly surprised that someone would use such language in front of the queen. Even accidentally.

"What is this word? 'Damnit'?" Mai'vryn questioned in Verparian, which sent another shock wave of laughter through the group. Vaeril's eyes widened and he shook his head with a sharp inhale.

"I do not understand. What is funny?" Mai chuckled nervously, uncertain if she were the butt of the joke. Although she didn't receive an answer, Vaeril silenced the laughter. She wasn't certain that made her feel better.

"Moving on," Vaeril declares loudly and seriously before clearing his throat, implying that the situation not be brought up again.

"They want to know if they should serve us," Vaeril turned to Mai, returning to Raeyllish as it was far easier for her to understand. He also wanted to perpetuate the illusion that he served her with unwavering loyalty. He didn't want the commoners of Mïrarl to get the wrong idea by seeing him bicker with Mai.

Mai gave a short nod and turns her attention back to Jaull and her father. But, as Vaeril begins to issue the command, she interrupted.

"No, no. Only if you like," She explained in Veparian and Vaeril swallowed thickly.

She and Vaeril, though they often conversed amiably, had vastly different opinions on how a good ruler should conduct themselves. Vaeril believed in control and superiority while Mai believed in kindness and humility. It was customary for the queen of Raeyllis to have a spouse or adviser of the opposite opinion to maintain harmony and balance in the her reign.

She broke away from the group and approached Ekwaurk. Taking his hand, she kissed the back of it and gave a small bow while doing so. She then did the same for Jaull. Mai could virtually hear Vaeril's heart stopping and she swore that he gasped audibly. While it wasn't a greeting for nobility in Raeyllis, it was a greeting of respect.

"I... thank you for your kindness. Please, uh, forget Vaeril. He is unkind sometimes. What is lle essa, your name?" Mai clasped Jaull's hand with both of hers the entire time she spoke. Although she felt confident that she already knew the woman's name, it was disrespectful to continue with a proper introduction.

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[KingofAesir]

JAULL HAUCRUSS
"Doesn't the land seem to call to you? "

Jaull couldn't help but snicker at the way some of the soldiers accompanying the young queen glared at her and others laughed themselves. She thought the one who spoke to the queen directly was the funniest. He practically oozed "I'm better than you" ness. Jaull didn't quite understand what he said to her, she assumed it was Raellyish, though she had never been too well versed with other languages beside her own. Brown eyes watched as the queen stepped away from her stuck up companion and toward her father, kissing his hand. Jaull froze again as the queen made her way toward her.

" 'Tis no trouble, Däirae. It'll only take a little while, and it's the least we could do." Her father seemed completely unfazed that a queen had just kissed his hand, either that ir he was really could at hiding his surprise. Impossibly bright teeth still shoeing in that roguish smile if his. People sometimes tod her that was the only thing she had of her fathers, his smile. That smile that could have people falling left and right. Jaull had never believed them. Jaull had been so caught up with trying to figure out how her father was so calm that she hadn't noticed the queen had already made it too her and now had her hand clasped between hers. Jaull's face became even redder, of that was possible.

"H-Haucruss." Jaull responded immediately, stumbling over her speech. She always told people her last bane when they asked her name, because most people in the area knew it and would either smile at her and inquire in her grandfather of click their tongues and shake their heads because, "Haucruss. Oh, that dreaming daughter 'o his." Jaull realized that the queen probably meant her first name and she moved quickly to answer with that, still stumbling over her words. "Jaull. M-my name is Jaull. J-Jaul Haucruss." Her eyes wandered to her held hand and back up to the queens, which were impossibly blue. Jaull had never seen someone with eyes that blue before. Everyone always had dull eyes.

"I'm sorry again about my daughters entrance. She has a tendency to be a bit reckless." Ekwaurk chuckled, causing Jaull to snap up straight from the awkward, weak-kneed stance only to let head droop in embarrasment again. The queen still hadn't released her hand, and Jaull wondered why. Not that she minded, it was just odd to have ones hand held for a some odd period of time by royalty.

Location
The Lonely Griffon​

Feeling
Tired​

Interactions​

RealisticFantasy

 

[Misty Gray]

Vyncent Thamas Teasen’athem

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Vyncent had been sparring with one of the guards for the last fifteen minutes and was growing bored of the man holding his punches out of fear of harming the prince. As he dodged an easy blow, Vyncent grabbed the guard's wrist and twisted the man's arm behind his back. Before dealing a blow, the prince surprisingly let go and backed away from his opponent. "Return to your post," he ordered the guard, dismissing him from the duty of helping him train. The prince then diverted his attention to one of the knights and beckoned him over before retrieving his own silver sword from the floor nearby. "Take your sword," he ordered the knight. "Let us practice, but please, don't hold back..." he began, a smirk on his face.

"Your Highness!" the stern voice of Minister Lambert Silverfall called out. Vyncent was a little irritated by the interruption, but reluctantly sheathed his sword to his side. "I'm on my way to the shrine for daily prayer. You should join me," the clergyman suggested. The prince would prefer to continue his training, but he knew he couldn't be seen to resist prayer in front of others. He permitted the knight to return to his post before walking alongside the Minister. There was always something behind the religious man's tone, like a venom or some bad intention behind everything he did, but the prince could never pinpoint it. Perhaps he really was paranoid and not just about the stepmother. "I understand your father will be returning later today, from his travels. Just in time to prepare for Queen of Raeyllis's visit. No doubt you are most looking forward to meeting the Queen, are you not?"

Spoiler: Minister Lambert Silverfall

"Minister, I anticipate I will meet the occasion with the same level of duty as my other royal tasks. I'm certain the outcome of the meeting will be whatever is the best for the future of this kingdom," he coldly answered. He didn't care about the religious man's perceived importance, Vyncent was not willing to divulge any of his personal thoughts and feelings to him. The truth was, he was feeling a mixture of excitement and anxiety. The king was proposing the prince and Mai'vryn should marry, and that was a huge decision, especially for someone who had spent most of his life within the castle walls.

"As long as you take it seriously. Marriage is for life, you must remember," he warned. As they reached the shrine, the Minister began his prayer. Vyncent stood alongside him, hands clasped together behind his back as he gazed to the floor. The prince was listening, but not truly taking in the words of the prayer. He felt guilty for not being as committed to their religion as he should be, but he didn't have time to worship the unseen. His father was real and he was the only person he would look up to and worship.

When Minister Silverfall was finally finished, Vyncent excused himself from the man's company and returned into the castle to ensure everything was running smoothly. His commanding presence alone made the servants work even harder than they had been before his arrival.

 

[RealisticFantasy]

KingofAesir

Mai'vryn Bannighymn
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"You may call me Mai'vryn. We are friends, no?" Mai beamed as she released the girl's hand with a light chuckle. Vaeril was sure to have an aneurysm if she continued behaving the way she was. With all he had put her through over the course of the past week, she deserved some time to return the favor.

"Reckless is not bad," Mai added as she paced toward a table of soldiers. Her steps were light and even as if everything she did was rehearsed countless times until it was perfect. "Reckless leads to adventure."

"I am told I am reckless. At least, if you ask Vaeril," Mai smirked, tossing a smug glance in Vaeril's direction as she sat down among the soldiers.

"Amin tari, amin nowa tanya," Vaeril began in an exasperated tone but Mai interrupted him.

"Vaeril, amin nowa tanya lle ssiphaya talkien ar' auta ulsuwhuru," Mai remarked offhandedly and several soldiers clearly were clearly caught off guard and struggled to stifle their laughter. Vaeril huffed and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Tari, lle naa beien onsiluns," Vaeril was clearly trying to hide his irritation but it managed to his slip through. His glance flitted rapidly between Mai and the commoners, trying to gauge if he was overstepping his bounds.

"Amin? Tanya nae y' naia, mool," Mai answered sternly. Vaeril stood still, mouth slightly agape, until Mai pointed to the door. After a brief moment, he realized that she was indeed being serious and stormed out.

"Ar' sana lle ssecr de Mellonea yassen lle!" Mai called after him, shooing away her other advisers and translator. They were buzzkills as well and she didn't need anyone else ruining her mood. After the door shut and she was certain they couldn't hear, she burst into laughter.

"Now we can enjoy ourselves, hm?" She asked and is quickly met with a cheer from her guards.

"Is it not a celebration when a queen comes?" She chuckled, scanning her troops for agreement which they express heartily. Her gaze flitted back to Jaull and she waved her over, "Come. Join us. Let the others in. We shall have a good time!"

 

[KingofAesir]

JAULL HAUCRUSS
"Caerphy be praised. "

Jaull's eyes shot rapidly between Mai'vryn and her companion as they spoke in heated tones in a language she had close to no comprehension of. Though, she could tell they weren't friendly. The queens guards were laughing and she found herself chuckling at the way some of Mai'vryn's men had faces so red they could resemble a tomato. Jaull brought a fist to her mouth to attempt to hide her grin from her father, who was shooting daggers in her direction. Brown eyes alight with humor watched as one man stormed out and a majority of the rest followed, leaving only the guards and Mai'vryn in their wake.

It was then that Jaull decided she quite liked the young queen, no matter what anyone said about her being too young or náive. Jaull took her fist off her mouth when Mai'vryn started laughing and rousing her men to cheer. Her father still glared, but she ignored him. The Taverness was stepping back towards the stove situated behind the counter when the queen turned and waved her over. Jaull was frozen again, looking between her father and the queen. By the sky had Caerphy broyggt blessings apon her today. Jaull began to step forward when her father took hold of her arm, whispering warningly into her ear in Mïrarlan.

"Na. Thud ak vad avail krudo." Ekwaurk pointed back toward the stove and then to the apron around her waist with a look. Jaull stared at her clothing and then looked back at the queen with her smile and stunningly blue eyes and shook her head. Work callused hands reached back and untied the apron around her waist, pulling it off and drapping it over her fathers shoulders with a grin as she whispered back to him.


"Avk vav ad ak availk." Ekwaurk set his jaw as his daughter sauntered off toward the crowd Raellyish men and their queen. He wouldn't stay angry long, no, because everyone knew Jaull Haucruss never did what she was told.

"Are you sure you don't want me to make you something?" Jaull questioned Mai'vryn as she made her way over. Ekwaurk sighed and threw Jaull's apron onto the counter, making his way to the stove himself. He wasn't about to over step his own bounds and find himself in trouble with anyone, Jaull was young, they'd do nothing to a young girl about something like this. He clicked his tongue and mumbled something about motherless children and minding under his breath. "I don't want to get in trouble by your.... what is he, exactly?" Jaull questioned, referring to the man Mai'vryn had been arguing with. She didn't quite like the look of him and would rather not get in trouble by him.

Spoiler: Ekwaurk Haucruss

Location
The Lonely Griffon​

Feeling
Rebellious/Excited​

Interactions​

RealisticFantasy

 

[Jabroni]

Undah Trade District (Night)

Undah's inhabitants had called it a quits for the day, shuttering their windows and heading indoors for the night. The dark alley before them splashed at every step as puddles licked around their boots. "From here to Nimrasea, I swear if you've led me astray..." he muttered under baited breath. This one was prone to telling falsehoods. Naturally, that's what most drunks did in the midst of storytelling, but as a fellow liar Merrik knew there was always a truth to every lie.

His companion was a balding man with a broken nose and bruises on his face. Torrod was his name - some halfwit from the backwoods of Ellon with a penchant for alcohol. Merrik had beaten the poor ninny senselessly several days prior for what initially meant to be a simple snatch and grab. He'd relieve the simpleton of his hard-earned copper, expense what he needed in supplies, and tarry off to the next town. That was the plan anyway... until fat, bumbling Torrod spilled the beans on a potential score. This time, he thought to himself, I intend to strike gold.

"I-it's not much further, I-I promise ye mate..." Torrod replied, which prompted a swat to the head. "Oof- I mean, Sir Drexley." How many times had he warned this sap about that? He was a knight from the northern reaches by way of Tatun Bay, and if anybody asked where in Tatun Bay, deflect the question or give them a taste of cold steel.

At the end of the alley, a light permeated where several men held torches. Their silhouettes betrayed them for pillars looming over the cobblestones, but that was shortly dismissed by a man's voice.

Spoiler: L'ssur

He spoke basic Ellonian, some of which Merrik could understand although he was more attuned to Aridian. Greetings were exchanged along with some mandatory back-patting, little of which he cared to partake. "Ahhh, Torrod! Yay'li saaqemb hoddil duom izil, old friend! How fare you?" The one offering conversation moved the torchlight across his face, revealing a neatly trimmed red beard. All sorts of neck jewelry hung from under his hooded cloak. The leader of the pack, he assumed.

"Tis' good to see ye too, L'ssur!" the drunkard wagged his double chin enthusiastically.

"Greaaat, now that the boys are reunited, let's get down to business eh?" Merrik interjected in shaky translation. Usually he was the chatty one in the group. However, he didn't have time for pleasantries, and hooded men in dark alleys could hardly be considered pleasant company.

L'ssur's cheery demeanor turned to apprehension at the flip of a coin. The hooded man carefully scrutinized him as if some unwelcome varmint entered his personal space. "Very well... to business." He fumbled within his robes, producing a small cloth-like fabric cut to a square. "From the hemird podileosr in all the five kingdoms."

"I assume he's saying it's good," Merrik retorted. It did look rather exquisite even in this light. Despite this sight, he figured the man behind the needlework was some hack pretending to be a master weaver. Torrod examined the item closley, smiling to like a child after finding a piece of candy. He turned his back to the hooded contact and was about offer Merrik the sampler before....

"The rugmaker of Vepar sends his regards..." With a slight of hand and a quick plunge, L'ssur thrust something forward in his hand. Torrod's back arched stiffly as he flopped onto a shallow pool. Water and blood trickled down his large belly, the look of surprise in his eyes glimmering under moonlight. Before Merrik could unsheathe, the two cronies beside L'ssur revealed swords from within their garb. One of them possessed a two-handed Cirqad, who rushed Merrik with little hesitation. He parried just in time but nearly back-planted on the wet surface.

"Kess uep!" he heard L'ssur shout out in detestation. The two in front swarmed him in an attempt to overwhelm. Ordinarily, he could make short work of their mistake, except his armor wore him down considerably. He instead decided to make a bold, yet stupid dash toward the Cirqad wielder. Shoulder first, he closed the gap before his opponent could give a full swing. With his sword arm, Merrik drove the point through the man's exposed abdomen.

Unfortunately for Merrik's shoulder, the Cirqad still bit through mail and leather and flesh, sending a piercing pain throughout his whole arm. He let out a loud, exasperating gasp while turning his maimed target toward the other charging attacker. The robed figure chopped deeply into his own compatriot. Merrik pressed onward with all the strength left in his body. The weight difference forced his attacker off balance as he fell under his limp brother's corpse. Merrik then slid a small knife from his bloody sleeve and stabbed the man in the jugular.

What happened next was a blur. He began to get dizzy from the loss of blood in his arm and could feel himself slipping in and out of consciousness. I'm dying? No, I'm dying... too tired to care. Just sleep. Sleep now.

 

[RealisticFantasy]

KingofAesir

Mai'vryn Bannighymn
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"Vaeril? Ah, an adviser, a friend. Do not be fearful of him. His... Bark is worse than his bite, as they say. Yeah?" Mai grinned as Jaull came over to join them. The men chuckled as her trepidation, clasping her shoulders playfully as she passed them and giving her gentle shoves.

"All I want is drinks for my men, some music, and a good time - things I think we've been, uh, kuphrozuk if for far too long," Her words are met with a another cheer from her men. Watching Jaull get caught up in the rows of already tipsy men, she decided to ran over and pull her along. She shamelessly batted away any hands that interrupted her path. She was on a mission now that Vaeril had left her be.

"Let the others in. I'm terribly bored. Won't you excite me, Jaull?" Mai turned to her friend, walking backwards to the door that had been shut to the outside world. The idea of freely interacting with commoners nearly had her trembling. "Come on, come on. Let us celebrate the Raeyllish way! Ale and music and fun!"

Her hand was on the handle of the door, her fingers curled tightly 'round it and twitching to yank it open when the thought occurred to her suddenly. The commoners would pick her out as royalty immediately. She stuck out like a sore thumb with her pristine white dress. And, she didn't need anyone else to treat her as if she were made of glass.

"Have you a dress I could wear? We are similar enough in size," Mai questioned excitedly, clasping Jaull's hand once again. It seemed unfair to just demand a dress of the near stranger so she added quickly, "And this? Well, you can have this. I hate it. It's hideous, far too... Queenly for my taste."

 

[Misty Gray]

Ellyn Slatewind

Location: Undah, Ellon


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Ellyn loved serving the king and queen, but she was also fond of the infrequent times she had a full day to herself. She'd earned this day of leave by being such a model maidservant. After relaxing around the palace gardens, an idea had struck her in the afternoon. She decided she would take her earnings and go into the heart of Undah to buy some new clothes and be around normal people, for a change. Whilst browsing around the market stalls, she'd started up a conversation with a young woman of a similar age. Before she knew it, she was being led away to a nearby tavern.

The tavern was an entirely new experience for Ellyn. She watch is surprise and awe as a group of men stumbled around drunk and sang loud songs about fair maidens. She found it really quite amusing. When her newfound friend, Scarlet bought her a drink, she took small sips. She was already in unfamiliar territory and experiencing a life she'd never witnessed before, so she didn't want to do so drunk. The two spent hours in the tavern and Ellyn lost track of time, ignorant to the fact it had turned dark outside. Then, a couple of men joined the two. One of them was showering Scarlet with compliments and offering to buy her drinks. "Wow, the men here are so kind and sweet," Ellyn naively thought. Then things became a little awkward as Scarlet took the man's hand and led him away through the crowd. The maidservant was confused, until the second man now started complimenting her too. When he mentioned something about offering her quite a sum of cash if she went home with him, she was a little shocked. When he placed an unwanted hand on her leg, she then realised what was really going on. "No thank you, mister. You should be ashamed of yourself!" she exclaimed, before slapping him across the face and sprinting away through the crowds, with the man furiously chasing her.

Jabroni
​

After running for a time, she was certain she'd lost the pervert. It was very dark now and she was certain she too was lost. She should not have still been out so late and she began to worry about finding her way back to the castle alone. As she turned down an alleyway, she saw some sort of confrontation between a group of men. She was afraid to turn back in case she bumped into the pervert but the men further down the alley didn't seem to be having a friendly chat. Before being seen, she slipped into a doorway and decided to hide until the men had gone away. She listened as they fought, taking a quick glance to see a man being stabbed through the abdomen. She quickly looked away, trembling in fear from what she had seen. As the fighting continued, she pulled her hood up over her head and crouched down on the floor. Maybe she could just hide there until daylight.

Things soon went quiet, and Ellyn looked down the alley to see no more movement. She decided to make a run for it and try to ignore the probably dead bodies on the floor. As she ran on the wet cobbles, she slipped and fell on her back, right beside where Merrik lay bleeding. As she sat up, she froze upon realising the man was still breathing. "I'm sorry, Sir," she apologised to Merrik, in case she'd collided with him during her fall. "I didn't see anything, I swear!" she worriedly told him. "I'll just continue on my way..." she said, hoping he would let her leave alive. She could see he was bleeding but was too scared to focus on it.
​

​

 

[KingofAesir]

JAULL HAUCRUSS
"Caerphy be praised. "

No matter what she might tell you, Jaull was far from the rebellious daughter she made herself out to be. Even of she didn't ever do what she was told it always seemed things got done and Jaull would never, never do something that would brand her as a bad child. Jaull made a habit of being unsubtly displeased with any situation her father out her in but she would never out right refuse to do something of do anything her father ill advised. Jaull supposed that what Mai was asking her was something ill advised and made out to be disrespectful in her world. Jaull stared at her momentarily, her was the Queen of Raellyis asking her if she had any spare clothes. What a day this had turned out to be indeed. Jaull played with the fabric of her dress and frowned. This was the best dress she owned and she hated it. The teverness hated dresses in general and she had no problem giving one away to Mai. Jaull looked up with a grin and an incline of her head toward the basement.

"This is the only one that isn't tattered to pieces. You can have it. I'll put on some trousers and a shirt the Guard Captain gave to me. I hate these things anyway." Jaull moved to pull Mai toward the basement where she and her father lived. Ekwaurk would most definitely disapprove of her putting mebs clothes on, he'd already told her that she couldn't wear them out. But, being in the spirit of rebelliousness she'd have to break one of her own rules today. Even if her father ill advised it.

Ekwaurk was too caught up with Mai's men to notice Jaull pulling the queen off into the basement and he'd miss the twinkle hidden in brown eyes. Jaull slipped through the door to the basement with Mai in tow, "Watch your step. It's kind of dark in here." Jaull turned sideways to help Mai down the steps in the faint light of the stairway. The wood creaked and groaned under both of their steps as they descended. Once out of harms way in the basement, Jaull finally let go of Mai and struck a match and lit a few candles for ease of sight. She pulled open a small wardrobe and ruffled through it until she was able to grab a black pair of trousers and a dark red button down shirt. She tossed them in her cot and turned to Mai.

"Okay, umm... I'll take this off and you can have it." Jaull ran over behind a curtain hung in the wall to take her dress off and struggled with the tie. Jaull groaned. Injrok had ties the damn thing too tight. "Um, I'm afraid this is quite stuck. Would you... do you mind.... oh bloody hell!"

Location
The Lonely Griffon​

Feeling
Rebellious/Excited​

Interactions​

RealisticFantasy

 

[RealisticFantasy]

KingofAesir

Mai'vryn Bannighymn
​

​

Mai was terribly thrilled by absolutely everything Jaull showed her. Her eyes flitted around the entirety of the basement in a matter of minutes, never lingering on one area for too long.

"Trousers?" Mai questioned the idea at first but excitement flushed her features briefly after. Imagine Vaeril's reaction to her in trousers! At this point, she wasn't certain if she was attempting to make up for lost time or if she wanted Vaeril to be bedridden by a heart attack. "Oh, how exciting! Have you an extra pair of those?"

Mai hadn't quite understand Jaull's expletive but her frustration was something that didn't need translation. As such, Mai quickly crossed the room to Jaull and assisted her with her dress. Mai rarely dressed herself but she had been in and out of dresses, wraps, shawls that were far more complicated than Jaull's.

"You say words I do not understand. What do they mean?" Mai asked as she ran a hand through her hair, shaking out her braids and curls. It hadn't occurred to her that Jaull might appreciate some privacy as she changed.

In Mai's mind, privacy didn't exist. She always had people coming in and out of whatever room she was in, whether she was clothed or not. Though some people like Vaeril hinted at the idea of privacy by ducking out when they felt they overstepped their bounds, it wasn't common practice.

 

[Misty Gray]

Gery Willowcrest

Location: Nosea, Nimrasea


​

The morning had started off peacefully for the inhabitants of Wrenlow. Gery had been up bright and early to buy food supplies from the local market. He always made sure to collect some items for old man Horace who lived two doors down. After dropping his own food off in his home, Gery knocked on Horace's door and entered the small house once permitted.

"Gery," the old man greeted him, struggling to his feet. He approached the tall man and took his hand so he could place a silver coin in his palm. "I always knew your parents would bring up a decent young man. You're my favourite neighbour," he said, with a small smile. He then patted Gery on the top of the arm before struggling back into his seat. "I heard the stable roof is in need of repairing since the storm a few days ago. Will you be able to repair it?"

"Of course I will, Horace," Gery replied, with a kind smile. "In fact, it's at the top of my list of duties for today. The horses will have a decent roof by noon." He'd never known his grandparents and he always considered Horace to be a grandfather figure. Such a kind old man. "I must go if I'm to see to all of my jobs. Enjoy your day," Gery said and stepped back outside.

****************
​

As he was up on the stable roof replacing the broken beams of wood, Gery shouted a "good morning" to those passing by down below. As he focused back on his work and hammered the nails into the wood, he didn't notice the gang of armed men approaching on horseback. With his back to the scene, he didn't see the villagers standing outside the doors of their respective homes, waiting for the thieves to collect their "insurance" money. As he turned to retrieve another handful of nails, his eyes suddenly focused on the group of men. It was then he realised one of them had been shouting his name beneath the sound of his hammering.

"Gery WIllowcrest!" the man forcefully shouted. "Come down, at once." Gery tightened his jaw before turning away and continuing to loudly hit the nails with his hammer. Just one day without being tormented. Just one day of peace was all he wanted. He froze as he heard the man still shouting and once again looked over his shoulder to the gang. "You have one minute to get down from there and stand here before me. Otherwise, this lady will pay for your defiance." The man, Kane, grabbed a young woman by the hair and placed his dagger against her throat to make his point.

Gery knew he had no choice. No matter how much he wanted to ignore the men, he couldn't let anyone suffer because of him. He climbed down from the roof and began walking towards the gang of thugs. He glanced back to a group of scared children and sighed. This couldn't continue. Realising he was still holding the hammer, he reluctantly tossed it aside, figuring it best not to provoke them by carrying a "weapon" with him. He stood close to Kane, who was still holding the terrified young woman, and looked him square in the eyes. "I'm here now. Leave her be," he said, his voice full of irritation.

"Of course..." Kane replied, pushing the poor woman aside and allowing her to run back to her family. He then beckoned one of his men over. "His house is over there," Kane began, pointing to Gery's home, "Take any money you can find." As the man walked away, two more joined their leader's side before being told to grab Gery's arms and immobilise him. "Mr WIllowcrest, you know how this works by now. When we're here, you stop whatever you're doing and do as we tell you. First you sought out the help of Lord Omarson, which is laughable, and now you try to ignore me. Get down on your knees," he calmly ordered. When Gery refused, Kane slammed his fist hard into the man's jaw, bursting his lip in the process. When Gery refused again, he was dealt a hard and painful blow to his stomach, knocking the wind out of him. One of the men restraining Gery kicked the back of his legs, forcing him to to fall to his knees. Kane pressed the handle of his dagger under the poor man's chin so he could look him in the eyes. "We'll be back later. I've doubled your insurance and I want paying when I return. Otherwise, I might take one of these pretty women and sell her to the highest bidder."

​

 

[Jabroni]

Undah Trade District (Night)

Visions and hallucinations seized troubled Merrik through flashbacks and fractured dreams. He recalled the Arndwin boys on Musgrove Way who used to badger him over his father's trade, refusing to let up even a second. "Hey Shoestrings!" they'd shout. "Come hither, Shoestrings! Come tie our shoes for us!" He regarded them with contempt for their very existence and wished them ill. Running over there and pounding faces seemed like the perfect remedy for that, but he was always a foolish boy during times such as these. He made it about ten feet before stumbling on a loose rock. Of course, they mockingly laughed in his direction for losing his balance. After a series of missteps, he fell hard to the ground, feeling a red trickle run down his forehead.

The sight of blood only encouraged the delinquents as they chanted away. "Cobbler's boy... Cobbler's boy... Cobbler's boy," and so it went. The words continued to ring ceaselessly until Merrik woke up to an equally painful reality. Instead of his forehead it was his shoulder, and oh did it sting like a bag full of wasps.

He didn't have much of an idea where he was or what had happened prior to this. Before he could gather his bearings, he heard a patter of feet across the cobblestones. Suddenly, a body landed prostrated side by side to his own.

To his everlasting surprise, he was staring eye-to-eye with a young, blonde-haired woman. Not just any woman, but someone who clearly took a bath within the last week or so. A taverness? No, he thought. Her clothes too appeared much less worse for wear than your average townie. "I'm sorry, Sir", she stated politely. "I didn't see anything, I swear!"

Oh, for the love of Tirasea. She will inform on me the first chance she gets. He could sense the fear in her voice as she whittled out a response. "I'll just continue on my way..." He still had the concealable dagger in his off-hand, now tinted in crimson, which he lifted instinctually toward the figure.

"You must help me... I..." I what, you fool? He had to think of something to get out of this hellish situation, or it was the slammer for him. There were few things in life worse than death, and visiting the local dungeon was one of them. And then it dawned on Merrik. The very idea that separated wolves from men happened to be a matter of perspective, a small caveat that could make a world of difference here tonight.

She said sir, which implied he may be one of the good guys in this little skirmish. Maybe she believed in that sort of thing? Knights and chivalry in back alleys? Well, it was worth a shot at least. "I am a knight."

Misty Gray

 

[Misty Gray]

Ellyn Slatewind

Location: Undah, Ellon

​

Ellyn had never felt so scared before. Perhaps this was why she rarely ventured away from the castle. She should have known it would be dangerous around here, but how could she have known she would have got mixed up in a mess like this? And how could she be so reckless as to lose track of time and end up alone outside in the dark?

When the man began asking her for help, her big eyes opened even wider with surprise. Why was he asking for help and not trying to kill her? Then, he shocked her by informing her he was a knight. She quickly looked around at the scene she'd landed in the middle off before looking back to Merrik and observing his features. "A knight?" she asked. Perhaps it was true. It was an explanation that would fill Ellyn with some kind of understanding for what was happening. She didn't like to believe everyone was cruel and evil, so this helped her make sense of the situation. In fact, it filled her with some hope that she could make it back to the palace safely. "You're a knight?" she repeated. "Why did those awful men attack you? Who would be so cruel?" she asked. She then looked over her shoulder to one end of the alley. "Perhaps you could walk me back to the castle? I was chased down here by a horrible man, too. I've never been here alone, especially not in the dark. Will you help me too?" she asked. He was a knight. Of course she could trust him. "Who do you serve, Sir?" she curiously asked. If he served the king and queen, as she did, then this would be just perfect.

Feeling a little more relaxed, she looked to Merrik's arm. "Are you badly hurt? What can I do?" she asked. Blood was not something she liked to see, but she knew she had to be brave for now. The knight was injured!

​

 

[Misty Gray]

Gery Willowcrest

Location: Nosea, Nimrasea

Spoiler: Kane Photograph

​

When Kane pulled the dagger away from under his chin, Gery turned to the side and spat out the blood from inside his mouth. It didn't remove the taste from his mouth but stopped him from having to swallow any more. As the two men let go of his arms and Kane turned away, Gery got up to his feet. He looked over his shoulder to his scared friends and neighbours. This routine of being threatened and robbed couldn't go on for much longer. He couldn't bare to live like this. "Kane, isn't it?" he began, knowing full well the man's name but wanting to grab his attention. When the ringleader turned to face Gery the irritation was clear on his face, obviously disliking his name being used. "Are you not growing bored of this by now? What is it all for anymore? You've already taken everything from us that can be considered profitable. All you're taking now is breadcrumbs - the very basic earnings myself and these harmless people make."

"Oh, you have no idea what's left for me to take, Willowcrest. Money isn't the only thing I find pleasure in. Watching your people stand trembling like the bunch of weaklings they are is priceless," he said, grinning. "I believe I slaughtered the only brave men you had. Nobody has stood up to me in months. It's a shame. You're all cowards."

"You have the audacity to accuse us of being weak?" Gery asked. His mind now plagued with memories of watching Kane and his gang murder some of his closest friends. He shook his head, his anger building up beneath the surface. "I have yet to see you fight a man alone. My mouth may be bleeding and my stomach aching, but I question if you would have dealt such blows without your men restraining me." Gery took a deep breath as he prepared his next words. "When you return later today, I wish to fight you. You and I. Nobody else."

"Gery, stop! They'll kill you," Horace shouted from nearby.

"No, old man. I will not kill him. It's much more fun keeping him alive to watch his friends suffer." Kane stepped closer to Gery and laughed in his face. "The only way you will get rid of me is by killing me. I don't like you and I certainly don't take kindly to your demands for a fight. I have nothing to prove to you or your people." He placed a firm hand on Gery's shoulder and smirked as he lowered his voice. "When I return, you will pay for threatening me. I'm going to make it my mission to break you until you beg me to kill you, but I will never give you that freedom." Kane removed his hand and took a step back, slowly clapping. "I suppose I was getting a little bored, but you've just given me more motivation..." He then shouted his next words so everyone could hear. "Congratulations! Your friend here has just made your lives more difficult!" he announced, laughing as he walked away and climbed back onto his horse.

Gery stumbled backwards and almost fell down into a seated position on a nearby crate. He could feel the pain still radiating in his abdomen, but he tried his best to ignore it. He spat more blood out of his mouth and used the back of his hand to wipe the red liquid from his face. "What have I done?" he quietly asked himself, unable to look towards any of his friends. All he knew was that he had to stop those animals before they caused even more suffering to his village.

​

 

[Jabroni]

Undah Trade District (Night)

Hook, line and sinker. With each question she gradually convinced herself what she must have hoped - that everything would be alright. Questions were good, a great deal better than screaming to be sure. "Castle...? I mean yes, of course. Far away from this cesspit of scum and villainy." Scum and villainy? Did he really just say that? His accent and jumbled phrasing would indicate he didn't speak Ellonian all too well, so he might've said something off-kilter.

He had some questions for his would-be savior as well. People didn't just live in castles unless they were supposed to be there in the first place. Did the young blonde belong to tall tales where a young princess goes adventuring on her own? Some nobleman's bastard, perhaps? Of this he was eager to learn, but there remained the issue of the nasty gash in his shoulder.

"These... these - street urchins - attacked me!" he said defiantly, raising his chin up. Merrik didn't care to explain why, because that's what street urchins did obviously. He glanced at the bodies strewn about the alley, counting only three corpses. L'ssur. That slimey snake must have ran for the hills while the getting was good. He would make sure to pay the "trader" a visit down the road, and he knew just where to look.

"I am Sir Drexley of Tatun Bay. I... don't serve your king as you assume. I'm a queensman, and would much appreciate you keep this to yourself. As you can see, people would kill for that information." Good luck asking the queen about it, he thought. There were thousands of knights who served Raellys, which happened to be the largest country in all the known world. What was one more?

On the second thought, going to the castle sounded like a one-way trip to Rope City. Sure, Merrik might make it through the gates, maybe even receive treatment for his wounds, but at some point there would be a nice little interrogation waiting for him. One way or another they'd read through that little facade of his, and then he would hang. "No," he began again. "I... I cannot make it that far... dear madam." He tried to sound as upstanding as possible, which came across a bit forced and irregular even for his silver tongue.

Feigning a painful jolt while grasping his shoulder, he groaned, "Ahhhnn... You must know some place nearby. A healer... a purveyor of poultices and herbs?" Yes, poultice. Very nice touch there. He heard the term thrown around by witch doctors while travelling with a gypsy troupe. They offered the coin, and he offered the protection. Those were simpler times, where people could deal in the shadows without suffering all this flummery. If for nothing else, he missed those days spent in Arid.

Merrik reached out to Ellyn with a free hand. "Well, on my honor I promise you this "man" will be hacked to pieces if he so much as shows his cowardly face... But first, help me up."

 

[Misty Gray]

Ellyn Slatewind

Location: Undah, Ellon


​

Ellyn pulled a confused face as she listened to the man's accent. She knew most of what he was saying and was able to guess the bits she didn't understand, with the help of his tone and context. "Yes, I must say this isn't a part of town I've been in before and I know not to return, even in the daylight hours. I've seen my share of rogues for one night!" she remarked. Little did she know she was currently in the presence of yet another scoundrel. "It saddens me to know those men attacked an innocent man. A knight, at that!"

"Sir Drexley of Tutan Bay, it's an honour to meet you," she kindly told him. "I'm just Ellyn Slatewind of... well.. of Undah, I suppose," she told him. There was no title before her name and for all she knew she could have been born in any city or any country. As far as she was concerned, Undah was the only place she needed to be from. She listened as he explained he was a queensman and quickly nodded her head. "Of course, my lips are sealed. I'd hate for anyone to kill you!" she said, horrified by the thought.

Then, Merrik said he couldn't make it as far as the castle and she frowned. She'd really hoped he'd be chivalrous enough to walk her back home at this hour of the night. But then he made it clear the wound in his arm was causing him trouble and pain. Perhaps he would have helped her back home if he wasn't injured. She helplessly shook her head when asked if she knew any purveyors. "No, I don't know any such person. I only came to the market to browse and I saw nobody selling herbs. Besides, the stalls are closed at this hour," she innocently told him. "Maybe someone in one of the taverns knows what to do?" she suggested.

Ellyn managed a smile when Merrik promised to protect her from the filthy man she'd been running from. She got up to her feet and took his hand, bending over to help the injured man to his feet. "Where should we go?" she asked.

Vyncent Thamas Teasen’athem

Location: Atos, Mïrarl

​

In the dressing room which adjoined his bedroom, Vyncent stood topless with his arms outstretched as the male tailor took his chest measurements. He glanced down to the female assistant and watched her write the measurements down. "I'd appreciate if you could take my measurements correctly this time, and finish altering my new formal wear before I sleep tonight. The last thing I want is to waste more time doing this again tomorrow." When the tailor finished taking his measurements, the prince lowered his arms and put on a vest to cover his exposed muscular torso. "Honestly, do I look like a skeleton?" he persisted. "These muscles were here when you measured me last week."

"We will work on altering the clothing immediately, Your Highness," the tailor assured him. He was by now used to the prince's rantings, so didn't allow the royal's annoyance to get to him. "Enjoy the rest of your day, Sir."

Vyncent didn't respond to the tailors, instead silently watching the two leave the room. He wasn't in the best of moods today. If he wasn't been dragged to prayers, he was wasting more time being fitted for new clothing for his meeting with Mai'vryn Bannighymn. He wondered if the Queen of Raeyllis also grew tired of such a fuss. He was standing in a room surrounded by a lifetime supply of clothing, yet his father had still insisted in having clothing made especially for the occasion. It was all beneath the prince. He would much rather be training, dealing with the servants or greeting the nobles as they visited the castle. As soon as he was fully re-dressed, he intended on fulfilling one of the desires and seeing how the servants were getting along with setting up the banquet hall for the upcoming festivities.

​

 

[Misty Gray]

Gery Willowcrest

Location: Nosea, Nimrasea

​

Later that morning, Gery stood behind the stables watching as four of his friends practised their sword fighting skills. He lazily held his own sword, the tip resting on the ground as he stood with his arms by his side. The four men were willing to fight to protect the village and Gery had been glad for the support. However, the longer he watched the younger men, who were barely in their twenties, the more he began to fear watching them die too. They needed more fighters before he would allow them to attempt fighting Kane and his men. For now, he would let them practice and hope to find more support soon.

"You must train too, Gery," Horace said, pointing to the sword Willowcrest was reluctantly holding. "Much can be achieved with a sword."

"I'm not a swordsman, Horace." Gery turned the sword upright and closely inspected the long silver blade. "I'm a builder and a hunter. I can wield an axe, or a bow and arrow. This sword doesn't fit in my hand as well as the handle of an axe does."

"There is nothing civilised about axes and spears..."

"Civilised?!" Gery snapped, eyes wide open. "There is nothing civilised about Kane and his thugs. We're past tradition and noble gestures." He carefully handed the old man the sword, which he had gifted to Gery weeks earlier. "Take it back, Horace. This sword belongs to a man who wants to wield it. A braver man than I." He walked away from Horace and the group, grabbing one of his large axes as he walked back towards his workshop where he'd been chopping firewood. There was something quite cathartic about slamming the axe down and watching the logs split in half. He wondered if it would be as satisfying to use it for uncivilised purposes.

Remembering the money Horace had earlier paid him for the food supplies, Gery walked behind his workshop and pushed a large rock to one side. He then used a small shovel to dig into the dirt and retrieve the wooden chest. He opened the box and placed the money inside. He and some others had buried a number of chests around the village, as well as various weapons, so Kane couldn't take everything they had. As he got up to return to the stables, a younger man, George approached and handed Gery a small piece of paper. "This was left for you, Gery."

Gery unfolded the paper and managed a faint smile as he ready the words. 'Honey Pot Tavern, Sephrespa' and some directions, ( Miracleist ). "George, get both of our horses ready. We're going to Sephrespa for some building supplies and for a drink in one of the taverns. I've received word of where I can find a former - hefty - acquaintance. Garret is a true warrior and will want paying, but if we can get him and his friends to help us it will be worth it!"

As Gery returned towards the stables to get his belongings, he was met with the sight of Horace directing his sword towards Kane and five of his men. With his gloved hand, Kane snatched the sword from the weak old man's hand. Kane looked Gery in the eyes before thrusting the blade of the sword into Horace's chest. He withdrew the sword and pushed the weak man onto the floor. "NO!" Gery roared and he sprinted to the scene, falling to his knees by Horace's side. He could see straight away that the blade had cut clean through the frail main's heart. Horace struggled to take only a few breaths before he stopped breathing completely. Gery looked up at Kane with hate in his eyes, his voice only just audible as he asked one question. "Why?"

​

"I told you, I was going to break you and make you watch those you love suffer. I'm already succeeding as you're down on your knees without me even asking you to do so," Kane said grinning. "Admittedly, your old friend dying wasn't part of my plan, but he did just threaten me with this," he said, looking to Horace's bloodied sword before tossing it aside.

"I'm going to kill you, Kane." Gery glanced down to Horace, trembling as his grief began to take over. "You've just taken the only person who was holding me back from becoming as uncivilised as you are. I will stand over you and watch you slowly bleed to death."

"That's sounds wonderful," Kane said, nodding his head. "Can it wait a couple of days? I have somewhere else to be," he said, smirking as he turned and walked away. Gery had to do everything within him to stop himself from getting up and attacking the murdering scum. He knew attacking Kane now would get him nowhere good. He had to be smarter and more patient about this. He didn't watch the men leave, instead he looked to Horace and tried to keep his emotions under control as he said a final prayer for the old man.

 

[Jabroni]

Undah Trade District (Night)

It appeared to Merrik he had acquired a puppet for nonce, but what to do with it? She couldn't even find any herbs for sale let alone produce an apothecary from her skirts. This "Ellyn of Undah" proved less useful than he'd hoped from a castle resident. Then again, you can't expect much from the sheltered class now can you?

"Where should we go?" Like I bloody well know. "Tavern it is... still a chance for trouble, but doubtful anyone will think twice of us."

Spoiler: Ellyn and Merrik Conversing

With Ellyn keeping him from tumbling over, he leered over Torrod's chubby mound and untied a third-rate cape from his back. A bloody circle the size of a grape fruit soaked through near the center. Taking his crude dagger to the fabric, he cut away the stained portion before offering it to his new companion. The mantle would do nicely for their little trip. Holes weren't suspicious at all; in fact, the more raggedy you looked the more you fit in as far as taverns were concerned.

"Wrap this around yourself... you'll need it where we're going. Just follow my lead and we'll have you safe and sound in no time." And if you believe that, I have an exquisite rug to sell you. He just hoped there weren't any more of L'ssur's lackeys running around at this hour.

*He'd create a small tourniquet of sorts for his shoulder from some leather straps and loincloth. Being rather ambidextrous with his hands, tightening the straps requires little assistance. Then Merrik would begin trudging toward the lighter side of the alley in search of a familiar place, assuming Ellyn doesn't offer any resistance.*

 

[Miracleist]

“Naasil saur nu, nil rzuhsuhs risu uhr saz.”

Never once in the life of Ari'arsi'aruhi'a Fasri'ahur (or Aria for short), would she have imagined that she would put her years of singing lessons to such use. Her silky voice filled the grimy and tiny tavern known as the “Honey Pot”. The few patrons that were seated swayed to the music, each one too drunk to understand how pertinent the impromptu lyrics were. She stared into the dazed eyes of one drunkard, continuing her song,” O, raasil saur nu, as su sui'ararr ilai i'ass hraz.” The broad grin on the man’s face nearly brought Aria to grim laughter – she only obliged a slight curve of her lips.

Spoiler: The Tavern Owner

Whatever thought filled the man’s mind, he clearly made no effort to hide as he stumbled towards Aria. Fortunately, he collapsed on the floor before he could make a third step. She rolled her eyes as the tavern owner chuckled, inviting a glare from the girl. The tavern owner’s wizened face cracked open a smirk missing a few teeth. “I’ll ne’er unders’and ‘ow ya come up with ‘em lyrics on ‘e fly,” he said, pouring Aria a mug of plain water. He slid the mug down the counter to the end where Aria swung by for a smooth pick-up. She brought the mug to her lips with little hesitation, noting how far she had come from when she would hold back on drinking because she knew what the mug had held before it came to hold the water she now drunk.

“What can I say, gaas Suhs, I am just talented,” she shot the old man a wink. He waved her off, guffawing as he returned to cleaning. She pulled a rag out from the sash of the apron she now wore over her rugged cloth dress, shaking her head as she did. The only remains of her past prestige were now the mere silk layer concealed under the cloth. Even then, that too reeked like the rest of her. “A ni'ar'r i'a sza-i'asus, i'a zassuhranu suhrph si'as zuhss sui'au ilai sa ruhrph su siur uhr su ruhphs,” she started, a new melody taking shape as more drunken heads raised and turned towards her with stupid smiles. The tavern owner swayed with the tune as Aria got to cleaning the table of the collapsed drunkard.

The door swung opened as four rugged-looking men strode in ( Misty Gray ). Aria gave them a pleasant smile as she showed them to their seats amidst the expected wolf-whistling and wandering hands. The temptation to slap the one man who thought it fine to slide his palm up her thigh was real but she held back when she saw the hilt of his sword. Her cheery gaze quickly met their lustful ones before they caught sight of her staring at the weapons. “Mmmhh, this really is the Honey Pot,” one of them said. The several scars running across his face irked Aria but she nodded. She ran a few fingers through her blonde locks, as she shot the tavern owner a quick glance. He caught on quickly.

“Aye sirees, ya’ll not regret comin’ ‘ere, best drinks on the house!”

That immediately got their raucous attention as they gladly took the mugs, engaging in their loud conversation while Aria finally got to back away behind the counter. A knowing look regarded the tavern owner as he turned back for a quick wink her way. This was his favourite ploy after all – get them drunk and slobbering for more and they would be far more willing to part with their money. The tavern owner took Aria’s place waiting the table as his hosting skills took centre stage. “Amazin’ work, mah men,” his flattery was blatant but the men seemed to revel in it.

“Fucking Omarson,” went one of the men. The name rang a bell. Aria’s ears perked up as she picked up a mug to clean. “What he sees in that Kane fellow I’ll never know, I tell you, that man’s a fool through and through.” His words invited loud toasts from his peers seated around him. Their conversation quickly turned crude and outright lewd – it seemed they had paid the city’s brothel a visit before coming by. Aria promptly tuned out as she thought about the name once more. Omarson, or more appropriately Lord Omarson, was one of the potential candidates for Aria when her parents were still seeking a match for her. Her face stiffened as she began humming a continuation to her song.

"Hui'as si'as saruranu zuhrzus, sazuhrph 'ssarr su ssurssu, whooooeeeeeee."

​

 

[Misty Gray]

Ellyn Slatewind

Location: Undah, Ellon

​

Ellyn may have had a difficult life as a slave for the Embergrove Family and now a maidservant for the royals, but it had been a sheltered one, no less. She knew she didn't belong out in this district in the dark. She grew more worried as each minute passed, but she knew she had to hide it to help the knight and not get eaten alive by any unsavoury locals. "Let's hope this tavern is better than the one I just left."

Ellyn turned her nose up as she watched Merrik cut away the bloodstained part of the material. She reluctantly accepted the cape, trying to push away the repulsion that it had just come from the body of a dead man. She wrapped it around herself, figuring her new ally knew best. He certainly knew better than she did. "Okay. We just go to the tavern, get what you need and then you help me get back to the castle before sunrise." She'd never been late for her duties but she imagined she would be in great trouble if she wasn't back in time to serve the king and queen in the morning.

When Merrik began covering his wound, Ellyn stood close by, ready to assist him if she could. She would then walk with him down the alley towards the tavern, helping him to walk steady if he needed her to. She looked over her shoulder to the dead men one last time. "Will we send someone to get rid of those bodies? They'll be amazed when they hear of your bravery defending yourself from so many men!"​

​

Jabroni

Gery Willowcrest

Location: Nosea & Sephrespa, Nimrasea
​

As a crowd of villagers began to build around the body of Horace, Gery got to his feet and turned to face them. As he looked to their faces, he expected them to be angry and disgusted with him for failing to prevent this. Instead, all he could see was desperation and uncertainty. Between being upset, they were waiting on Gery's next words; his next commands and directions. He didn't know how he'd ended up in this position and he hadn't wanted to be in it at all. There were men standing with them who were stronger, but they had children with them who they were afraid to leave behind. Somehow, simply speaking up against Kane had made Gery seem like some sort of a leader to them. He did not think of himself as a leader at all, yet, he had no choice...

Gery crouched down to retrieve Horace's sword, only now allowing his hand to truly grasp the weapon. He then looked to a couple of similar aged men, both family heads, and spoke in a lowered voice. "I've said my goodbyes to Horace. See to it he is buried in the woods, close to where he would always sit by the stream." He placed the sword in its holder at his waist, clearly intending on keeping it with him now. "George and I are going into Sephrespa for supplies. I will also be finding an old friend. We should only be gone for a day." The village was close to the Nosea and Sephrespa border, but he couldn't be sure how long it would take to find Garret once there. "I don't think Kane will be back tomorrow, but if he is, give him any material possessions he asks for and don't let anyone attempt to argue with him." Once certain he'd made things clear, Gery glanced to old man Horace one final time before getting some equipment together for the journey and mounting his horse alongside George.
​

**********​

The journey took longer than George would have liked, but they soon located the Honey Pot. Gery dismounted his horse, tying the reins to a nearby post so the horse couldn't trot off. He then handed a pouch of coins to George and pointed to a nearby inn. "Find somewhere for us to lodge tonight and take the horses somewhere safe. Then come find me inside the tavern."

After leaving George to it, Gery approached the entrance of the tavern. As a group of drunken men almost fell out of the door, he took a deep breath to compose himself. Garret was a regular here, alright. Gery never did like these kinds of taverns, but his old friend always dragged him into them.

After ensuring his sword was concealed to avoid anyone thinking he was hostile, he forced himself to enter the tavern. Brushing past some more drunk men, he walked straight to the bar where he saw the female elf humming along as she worked. She seemed like the most approachable and most likely to be sober. "Excuse me, miss," he began, flashing a friendly smile. His jaw was slightly swollen and smiling stretched the cut on his lip, but he'd had worse. Regardless, he only now began to realise how much his body ached - that inn had better have some space. "Would you happen to know if Garret is around here?" he asked. She would know Garret, the large but friendly fighter. She may also know that Garret is out of town for the next few days!​

​

Miracleist

 

[Miracleist]

Work always got dreadfully dull far too quickly. With its intellectually unstimulating quality, Aria’s singing was part-entertainment and part-practice. After all, her language abilities would deteriorate quickly in these parts where far too few spoke the native tongue. “Ti'ahu nil zass, su nashuhrphuhss za ruhrphr su ri'assurs,” she hummed, cutting herself off intermittently as she served the occasional drink to the occasional patron or smiling to the God-forsakenly oblivious drunk. She attempted once more to return to her song, having already taken keen interest in the tune she weaved. “Huhrs a,” she began and stopped as the tavern door swung opened.

“O si'a si'a.” (“Ooh la la”)

She quickly stared back down under the counter, as her mind struggled to find a song to hum. Realizing quickly that she was being foolish thinking anyone really heard her (let alone understood her), she composed herself once more as she shot the newest entry a polite smile. This man was more than easy on the eyes – equal parts mature and charming in demeanour, moving with a certain air of inspiring confidence. His smile like the dazzling sun, bringing light into the dreary tavern, filling her with surprising warmth. She smiled back in kind, a very decisive glint in her eyes. “Oh, yes, handsome?” She responded, leaning over on the counter.

I am drunk, she decided. She might have drunk a mug down on a challenge from a patron earlier, that had to be it.

Regardless, she whipped her mind back into focus, assessing the man discretely. His charming features aside, he looked to be relatively unassuming in dressing. In the relative dimness of the tavern, it was hard to tell if he had a weapon concealed but she felt it logical to presume so. What piqued her interest were the seemingly swollen jaw and the cut on his lip – a fighter perhaps. His question about Garret cemented that assumption.

Garret was perhaps the other fun presence in the tavern. A giant of a man but one with a heart of gold. It was he who often provided a stabilizing presence in the tavern when patrons got unruly. Given how frequently he patronised the Honey Pot too, it had become a sort of habit for both the old tavern owner and even Aria now to refer to Garret whenever a person decided to act up. It was hard to tell if he had much of a presence outside of the tavern since Aria never felt it her place to probe but she was well-aware that the man was away for the next few days – the kindly man made sure to let them know.

“Oh, good Garret is not here.”

Her head tilted to the side, propped up by an arm. She was considering how trustworthy this man and she would only provide further details after he could show that he could be trusted. After all, trust in the slums was a hard-earned commodity.

 

[Misty Gray]

Gery Willowcrest

Location: Sephrespa, Nimrasea

​

Gery couldn't help but smile at Aria; what a sweet lady she seemed. When she leaned over the counter and called him "handsome", he couldn't help but focus on how refreshing the atmosphere was. It was nice to speak with a woman who wasn't living in fear of her home being raided by a brutal megalomaniac. Just a simple piece of relative normality. "Careful now, Miss. A pretty lady like you? You'll make this grown man blush," he finally replied to her with a glint in his eyes. Was he flirting? He wasn't quite sure. It had been a long day and a long while since he engaged in flirtations. Since his wife had cruelly walked out on him, to be precise. If it wasn't for her taking their son with her, he'd gladly never set eyes upon that woman again.

When the lady told him Garret wasn't in the tavern, Gery let out a small sigh. But he was at least glad he was in the right place and the tip-off hadn't been wrong. "Do you know what time he usually gets here?" he asked, assuming she just meant he hadn't arrived yet. "I've travelled here especially to see him. Garret and I are old friends, and it took some time for me to track him down again," he explained. "I'm glad I managed to find the right place, though. I have a big favour to ask of the great man." He took a step forward and placed some coins down in front of her before casually leaning against the bar. "Please could I get some of your finest ale whilst I wait for Garret?" he asked her. This drink wasn't just to pass the time until the time he presumed Garret would arrive. After today's events and losing Horace, he needed something to help ease his mind for a time. He didn't intend to be so intoxicated he'd be stumbling out like some of the buffoons around him, but something to dilute his despondent thoughts would be more than welcomed.

Miracleist

​

 

[Miracleist]

Aria blushed – or at least, she made a good show of it. A coy turn away, brushing some hair behind the ears; a little playful peek his way and a radiant smile. She always quite enjoyed these parts of her lessons. While not a part of her academic interests, they struck a chord for their realistic practicality. After taking a moment to compose herself, she turned back to the man with a more serious expression. She still was lacking in her ability to read people purely based on their visuals so she still felt uncertain about how trustworthy he was. Even as he made the claim that both he and Garret were ‘old friends’ or the label as a ‘great man’.

What she did know for certain that the Honey Pot did have ale, so she nodded quickly and reached under the counter for the ‘finest’ ale – also known as the most expensive for coins he placed (which was just a little more than what patrons usually paid). The ale arrived with a polished glass which she promptly filled up and served to him. “Hi'azzil ssuhrhuhrph (Happy drinking),” she said as she did a light curtsey. She smiled politely as she allowed the man to drink before she decided there was no harm letting him know the rest of the information she had about Garret (not to mean that she knew that much that others already knew).

“Good Garret has been out of town for a few days now, and might be for some more.”

She lightly tapped herself on her forehead with her palm. “I ought to have been more specific, sorry, my good sir…?”

Her voice trailed off as she eyed the man.