Fantasy The Kingsword Will Stand (OPEN)

[Ayama]

THE THIEF

Julian Valerius the IIIrd

Male - 25 - Straight

Julian winced as the healer walked up to the elf and nonchalantly stabbed a needle straight into his neck- the rogue didn't like needles. He blinked in surprise at Marnie's impressive show of magical control, glancing sideways at Agathon to gauge his reaction.

He was pulled out of his thoughts by the sound of Aevar's gruff voice, sighing and shaking his head at the man's callousness and missing, as he often did, the angelic innocence of his friend's youth.

"You're one cold-hearted bastard, aren't you?" he said sardonically, repeating a line he often used. He barely heard Aevar's reply as, at that moment, Antigone started using magic, and he had eyes for nothing else.

He'd seen her eyes glowing blue on a couple memorable occasions in childhood, but she didn't have the tattoos back then, and watching them light up the length of her skin as she focused her power was mesmerizing.

When she stopped chanting and handed out the newly-crafted ropes, Julian closed his eyes and shook his head as though coming out of a trance.

His whirling thoughts were interrupted by the sudden and surprisingly loud voice of the seer, who made quite a dire pronouncement. At her words, a chill went down Julian's spine, and he reflexively turned towards the door as though expecting Iselde's soldiers to burst through it.

This thought was then interrupted by the elf, whose joke about being tied up on a bed by a beautiful woman had him laugh out loud in spite of himself, and Julian decided that he liked this elf despite his weirdness and unruly hair.

As Aenwyn debated the odds of the tavern-goers not considering them a bunch of kidnappers and Vail expanded on the meaning of the bard's seal, Julian wondered at the elf's ability to be so calm.

After all, he had just learned his true identity, the prophecy that revolved around him and the insane responsability that now rested upon his shoulders, and yet he barely seemed to be concerned with the danger he was in.

Probably a good thing he's got that paranoid bodyguard then, the rogue reflected.

It was clear he wasn't the only one worried by Nimue's pronouncement, as it made Agathon stride over to the window and scan the street below for any possible threats. For the moment reassured, the druid then stepped backwards and leaned against the wall, the open window framing his figure in light.

Observing his friend's backlit profile, Julian reflected once again on how beautiful Agathon was. It always amazed him that the man himself seemed to be oblivious to it, just as he'd been when they were children.

If only he didn't spend all his time in the woods and looked after his hair, skin, and garments properly, he could rival the princes of any noble court, and they would be found wanting. What a waste, he thought.

He recalled again that one fateful day in childhood when Agathon had caved and allowed him to assist. After cleaning his friend ferociously from head to toe, he had grown increasingly frustrated as each new outfit he'd had him try on wasn't quite what he was looking for, until he had the epiphany of realizing this was because the beautiful boy would look better in a dress!

Glancing from the druid back to the small, youthful-looking bard on the bed, the idea came to him just as it had then.

"How about putting Kash in a dress?" he suggested jokingly. "He's got the features to pull it off, and it might make it easier to slip out of here unnoticed. I'd be happy to do it- I've done it before on- on a friend," he hesitated, glancing furtively at Agathon, "years ago. This could work."

In truth, the rogue knew this would, for many reasons, not be remotely useful, but he couldn't resist making the suggestion, hoping to get Agathon or his sister to react.

Location: Room | With: Everyone | Mood: Mischievous

Spoiler: Plaintext version

Julian winced as the healer walked up to the elf and nonchalantly stabbed a needle straight into his neck- the rogue didn't like needles. He blinked in surprise at Marnie's impressive show of magical control, glancing sideways at Agathon to gauge his reaction.

He was pulled out of his thoughts by the sound of Aevar's gruff voice, sighing and shaking his head at the man's callousness and missing, as he often did, the angelic innocence of his friend's youth.

"You're one cold-hearted bastard, aren't you?" he said sardonically, repeating a line he often used. He barely heard Aevar's reply as, at that moment, Antigone started using magic, and he had eyes for nothing else.

He'd seen her eyes glowing blue on a couple memorable occasions in childhood, but she didn't have the tattoos back then, and watching them light up the length of her skin as she focused her power was mesmerizing.

When she stopped chanting and handed out the newly-crafted ropes, Julian closed his eyes and shook his head as though coming out of a trance.

His whirling thoughts were interrupted by the sudden and surprisingly loud voice of the seer, who made quite a dire pronouncement. At her words, a chill went down Julian's spine, and he reflexively turned towards the door as though expecting Iselde's soldiers to burst through it.

This thought was then interrupted by the elf, whose joke about being tied up on a bed by a beautiful woman had him laugh out loud in spite of himself, and Julian decided that he liked this elf despite his weirdness and unruly hair.

As Aenwyn debated the odds of the tavern-goers not considering them a bunch of kidnappers and Vail expanded on the meaning of the bard's seal, Julian wondered at the elf's ability to be so calm.

After all, he had just learned his true identity, the prophecy that revolved around him and the insane responsability that now rested upon his shoulders, and yet he barely seemed to be concerned with the danger he was in.

Probably a good thing he's got that paranoid bodyguard then, the rogue reflected.

It was clear he wasn't the only one worried by Nimue's pronouncement, as it made Agathon stride over to the window and scan the street below for any possible threats. For the moment reassured, the druid then stepped backwards and leaned against the wall, the open window framing his figure in light.

Observing his friend's backlit profile, Julian reflected once again on how beautiful Agathon was. It always amazed him that the man himself seemed to be oblivious to it, just as he'd been when they were children.

If only he didn't spend all his time in the woods and looked after his hair, skin, and garments properly, he could rival the princes of any noble court, and they would be found wanting. What a waste, he thought.

He recalled again that one fateful day in childhood when Agathon had caved and allowed him to assist. After cleaning his friend ferociously from head to toe, he had grown increasingly frustrated as each new outfit he'd had him try on wasn't quite what he was looking for, until he had the epiphany of realizing this was because the beautiful boy would look better in a dress!

Glancing from the druid back to the small, youthful-looking bard on the bed, the idea came to him just as it had then.

"How about putting Kash in a dress?" he suggested jokingly. "He's got the features to pull it off, and it might make it easier to slip out of here unnoticed. I'd be happy to do it- I've done it before on- on a friend," he hesitated, glancing furtively at Agathon, "years ago. This could work."

In truth, the rogue knew this would, for many reasons, not be remotely useful, but he couldn't resist making the suggestion, hoping to get Agathon or his sister to react.

 

[Caffeinated Joy]

THE FEMALE DRUID

Antigone

Female - 29 - Straight

Antigone was impressed at the speed and efficiency with which Myara tied Kash up. Her parents would not only have been impressed, but they’d also have offered her a job. She stood, shaking her head at the unwelcome memory, and then shot a grateful smile toward her brother as he moved to stand near the window and peer outside. He was always looking out for her, and always had, even when they were kids. He peered out the window, and evidently satisfied with what he saw (or didn’t see), turned his attention back to the room.

She spotted Julian staring at Aggie, an expression on his face that was both wistful and contemplative. Her eyes narrowed involuntarily. If Julian hadn’t changed, and evidence so far suggested he really hadn’t, the look on his face meant more of his shenanigans. They didn’t have time for it. Not now. Not ever, really, but especially not now.

Clover peered out from the protection of her thick hair and perched on her shoulder, peering around at everyone imperiously. “Clover. Look downstairs and see if anyone is acting suspicious.” She whispered.

“Food?”

“Yes, of course. Just don’t get caught, and don’t be seen. Make sure Luna and Barrow are OK and check on Vail’s horse.” She touched the mouse’s nose.“ “Go on, my friend.”

Clover scurried down Antigone’s body, diverting to dart quickly around Aggie’s feet before dashing to the door and squeezing under the gap.

Nimue spoke up then to admonish everyone and remind them of the seriousness and danger of their situation. Most importantly, she reinforced her earlier message. Kash was supposed to be here. Antigone was willing to accept it, but she understood the suspicion the majority of them felt. Surely Nimue could too.

Except, for Vail. He was remarkably calm for someone who just found out he was a long-lost prince. Not just any prince, but THE prince. Common folk might not take rumours of the True Sovereign seriously, but the False Kings and Queen most definitely would. The moment they heard even the slightest whisper of Vail’s existence, they would act on it. Especially Queen Iselde. That woman almost made her own mother look like an amateur on human torture. All it would take is one person to whisper in her ear, and their entire group would become fugitives. She had enough concerns of her own with the risk of her parents discovering her, never mind the queen.

Elves didn’t seem, as a race, to understand the urgency of anything. Barring tragedy, Vail had centuries of life before him. How did one make someone who had nothing but time understand there wasn’t any time to waste?

As Vail explained what he knew of the seal Kash carried, and explained the significance of his sword – Kingsword, he called it – Antigone looked between the bard and the young heir, wondering what the connection between the two them was. Why did Kash have the seal of someone once in service to the old Kings and Queens of Kalais? Did it actually belong to him or did he pick it up somewhere?

"How about putting Kash in a dress?" Julian’s voice broke into her thoughts. "He's got the features to pull it off, and it might make it easier to slip out of here unnoticed. I'd be happy to do it- I've done it before on- on a friend," he shot a surreptitious glance at her brother, "years ago. This could work."

Antigone felt her brows knit together and her head shook before she could stop it. What was wrong with him? Too much to list, truth be told. She took a breath and let it out slowly, her mind sweeping back to the day he put Aggie in a dress.

It was shortly after her second attempt at running away from home. She couldn’t recall exactly how long after, but it had been less than a week; a short enough span for the bruises on her back to still feel sore and appear a livid purple. Since being forced back home, she had done everything she could to avoid her parents, with the exception of meals. Her brother, a few aunts and uncles, and the occasional visiting dignitary were always present during these times, so everyone had to be on their best behavior, including her parents. They put a lot of effort into building the illusion of the perfect, loving family.

She took a lot of solace in spending time with her brother, or in her garden. Julian was visiting that day, however, and she just wasn’t up to putting up with vanity, his commentary, or his idiocy, so she escaped outside to tend to her plants. As she approached, the sound of shouted commands and shovels hitting soil urged her to pick up her skirts and run, panic clawing up her throat. Please, please, please…

Her garden was in a state of ruin. Plants were pulled up by the roots, soil forcefully dug up, and painstakingly set trellis’ shattered. Worse, as her parent’s servants worked to destroy her garden, others followed, salting the soil so it would never grow anything again. The earth wept beneath her feet, and her magic rose within her, still a wild and untamed thing, ready to be used, even if she wasn’t ready to use it. The grass around her suddenly sprouted with dozens of buttercups.

“I’m sorry Lady Imogen.” She heard beside her, “Your parents were quite clear with their orders. If you could just do as they ask -”

The servant stepped back as she turned on him, “Kill for them? Destroy their enemies’ crops? Turn my gift on you if they asked? I will never use it to destroy. Tell them that.”

Trembling, she turned on her heel and strode back to the manor and down the twisting hallways to her room, pausing as she spotted the door open a crack. She thought of the bird she kept in there and gasped in fear. What if her parents had unlocked her door and…no. Once again, she picked up her skirts and ran the distance remaining to her room. She burst inside, greeted instantly by the glad chirping song of the nightingale seated comfortably on the roost near her bed.

“Oh, thank goodness.” She whispered. “Peeps, for moment I thought – wait.”

Her wardrobe door was open, and her dresses pushed aside. A lone, empty hanger hung there – and she knew she hadn’t any empty hangers in her wardrobe. She hurried forward, and for a moment, caught the distinctive, lingering, perfumed reek of Julian Valerius. Of course, the little miscreant would know how to pick a lock. What in the name of everything good was Valerius doing in her room? What in the name of everything good did he need anything from her closet for? Swearing under her breath, she turned and hurried out, every last bit of frustration and anger she’d held pent up in her chest worrying its way free until she had worked up a good, wholesome fury.

Declan’s door was closed, but she could hear Valerius’ muffled voice faintly, saying something about her brother being beautiful and needing someone to bring it out. Fuming, she pushed the door open, her eyes latching onto Declan in a gown she hadn’t worn for a few months because it was a little small for her. A riot of conflicting emotions tore through her. Admiration for what Julian had done, worry Declan would be charmed by this idiot’s clever words and believe his only worth was in how he looked, and fury at Julian for playing with her brother’s insecurities like this. Fury won.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, Valerius?!" She shouted at Julian, curling her fists at her sides, and determined she would not let a single angry tear fall. That horrible boy would mistake it for weakness.

Julian had, of course, claimed he was only trying to help Declan with his confidence, which she had immediately shot down, before dragging her brother from the room and having a serious heart-to-heart discussion with him. Declan was beautiful, but, more importantly, he was good person. He was kind, giving, and generous. All of those things made him a better person than any trappings of beauty did. She worried, if he continued to blindly follow Julian, he would lose what made him so special.

She had left him in her room with her bird and returned to confront Julius in Declan’s room. She had closed the distance between them with a speed that made the boy flinch away, as if expecting her fist in his gut. Normally he would have been right to expect it, but she didn’t trust herself, at the moment, to not use her power against him. Instead, she invaded his space, and spoke in voice shaking with fury, “You keep my brother out of your ‘clever’ ideas, Valerius. I will not see you ruin everything good in him by turning him into a copy of you, do you hear me? He is the only thing I have here worth anything anymore.” She paused to collect her emotions, appalled at the tears threatening to fall. “Just…get out.”


Antigone blinked and took a long, slow, breath, surprised at the emotions welling up in her chest at the flood of memories. She gave herself a shake and glared at the thief, “What are you going on about, Julian? Don’t be absurd. They saw Kash get taken up here. What do you think is going to happen if we go back downstairs not only without him, but with a woman who looks remarkably like him?”

Clover came in then and scurried up her side to settle on her shoulder. “He men and she men eat and drink. Loud talks. Loud laughs. Bar man says to another check on people upstairs make sure OK. Had food. Luna impatient. Barrow paces. Whisper horse fed and bored.” The mouse shifted slightly and seemed to glare at Julian for a moment before twitching his whiskers and looking away.

Antigone gestured to Kash. “Better untie him. The tavern keep is sending someone up to check on us. Can we all at least pretend to friends for a few minutes, please?”

Location: The big room| With: Everyone | Mood: Appalled and tempted to use her magic on a man

Spoiler: Mobile Friendly Version

The Female Druid - Antigone
I am here: Room
With: Everyone
Mood: Appalled and tempted to use her abilities to harm a man.

Antigone was impressed at the speed and efficiency with which Myara tied Kash up. Her parents would not only have been impressed, but they’d also have offered her a job. She stood, shaking her head at the unwelcome memory, and then shot a grateful smile toward her brother as he moved to stand near the window and peer outside. He was always looking out for her, and always had, even when they were kids. He peered out the window, and evidently satisfied with what he saw (or didn’t see), turned his attention back to the room.

She spotted Julian staring at Aggie, an expression on his face that was both wistful and contemplative. Her eyes narrowed involuntarily. If Julian hadn’t changed, and evidence so far suggested he really hadn’t, the look on his face meant more of his shenanigans. They didn’t have time for it. Not now. Not ever, really, but especially not now.

Clover peered out from the protection of her thick hair and perched on her shoulder, peering around at everyone imperiously. “Clover. Look downstairs and see if anyone is acting suspicious.” She whispered.

“Food?”

“Yes, of course. Just don’t get caught, and don’t be seen. Make sure Luna and Barrow are OK and check on Vail’s horse.” She touched the mouse’s nose.“ “Go on, my friend.”

Clover scurried down Antigone’s body, diverting to dart quickly around Aggie’s feet before dashing to the door and squeezing under the gap.

Nimue spoke up then to admonish everyone and remind them of the seriousness and danger of their situation. Most importantly, she reinforced her earlier message. Kash was supposed to be here. Antigone was willing to accept it, but she understood the suspicion the majority of them felt. Surely Nimue could too.

Except, for Vail. He was remarkably calm for someone who just found out he was a long-lost prince. Not just any prince, but THE prince. Common folk might not take rumours of the True Sovereign seriously, but the False Kings and Queen most definitely would. The moment they heard even the slightest whisper of Vail’s existence, they would act on it. Especially Queen Iselde. That woman almost made her own mother look like an amateur on human torture. All it would take is one person to whisper in her ear, and their entire group would become fugitives. She had enough concerns of her own with the risk of her parents discovering her, never mind the queen.

Elves didn’t seem, as a race, to understand the urgency of anything. Barring tragedy, Vail had centuries of life before him. How did one make someone who had nothing but time understand there wasn’t any time to waste?

As Vail explained what he knew of the seal Kash carried, and explained the significance of his sword – Kingsword, he called it – Antigone looked between the bard and the young heir, wondering what the connection between the two them was. Why did Kash have the seal of someone once in service to the old Kings and Queens of Kalais? Did it actually belong to him or did he pick it up somewhere?

"How about putting Kash in a dress?" Julian’s voice broke into her thoughts. "He's got the features to pull it off, and it might make it easier to slip out of here unnoticed. I'd be happy to do it- I've done it before on- on a friend," he shot a surreptitious glance at her brother, "years ago. This could work."

Antigone felt her brows knit together and her head shook before she could stop it. What was wrong with him? Too much to list, truth be told. She took a breath and let it out slowly, her mind sweeping back to the day he put Aggie in a dress.

It was shortly after her second attempt at running away from home. She couldn’t recall exactly how long after, but it had been less than a week; a short enough span for the bruises on her back to still feel sore and appear a livid purple. Since being forced back home, she had done everything she could to avoid her parents, with the exception of meals. Her brother, a few aunts and uncles, and the occasional visiting dignitary were always present during these times, so everyone had to be on their best behavior, including her parents. They put a lot of effort into building the illusion of the perfect, loving family.

She took a lot of solace in spending time with her brother, or in her garden. Julian was visiting that day, however, and she just wasn’t up to putting up with vanity, his commentary, or his idiocy, so she escaped outside to tend to her plants. As she approached, the sound of shouted commands and shovels hitting soil urged her to pick up her skirts and run, panic clawing up her throat. Please, please, please…

Her garden was in a state of ruin. Plants were pulled up by the roots, soil forcefully dug up, and painstakingly set trellis’ shattered. Worse, as her parent’s servants worked to destroy her garden, others followed, salting the soil so it would never grow anything again. The earth wept beneath her feet, and her magic rose within her, still a wild and untamed thing, ready to be used, even if she wasn’t ready to use it. The grass around her suddenly sprouted with dozens of buttercups.

“I’m sorry Lady Imogen.” She heard beside her, “Your parents were quite clear with their orders. If you could just do as they ask -”

The servant stepped back as she turned on him, “Kill for them? Destroy their enemies’ crops? Turn my gift on you if they asked? I will never use it to destroy. Tell them that.”

Trembling, she turned on her heel and strode back to the manor and down the twisting hallways to her room, pausing as she spotted the door open a crack. She thought of the bird she kept in there and gasped in fear. What if her parents had unlocked her door and…no. Once again, she picked up her skirts and ran the distance remaining to her room. She burst inside, greeted instantly by the glad chirping song of the nightingale seated comfortably on the roost near her bed.

“Oh, thank goodness.” She whispered. “Peeps, for moment I thought – wait.”

Her wardrobe door was open, and her dresses pushed aside. A lone, empty hanger hung there – and she knew she hadn’t any empty hangers in her wardrobe. She hurried forward, and for a moment, caught the distinctive, lingering, perfumed reek of Julian Valerius. Of course, the little miscreant would know how to pick a lock. What in the name of everything good was Valerius doing in her room? What in the name of everything good did he need anything from her closet for? Swearing under her breath, she turned and hurried out, every last bit of frustration and anger she’d held pent up in her chest worrying its way free until she had worked up a good, wholesome fury.

Declan’s door was closed, but she could hear Valerius’ muffled voice faintly, saying something about her brother being beautiful and needing someone to bring it out. Fuming, she pushed the door open, her eyes latching onto Declan in a gown she hadn’t worn for a few months because it was a little small for her. A riot of conflicting emotions tore through her. Admiration for what Julian had done, worry Declan would be charmed by this idiot’s clever words and believe his only worth was in how he looked, and fury at Julian for playing with her brother’s insecurities like this. Fury won.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, Valerius?!" She shouted at Julian, curling her fists at her sides, and determined she would not let a single angry tear fall. That horrible boy would mistake it for weakness.

Julian had, of course, claimed he was only trying to help Declan with his confidence, which she had immediately shot down, before dragging her brother from the room and having a serious heart-to-heart discussion with him. Declan was beautiful, but, more importantly, he was good person. He was kind, giving, and generous. All of those things made him a better person than any trappings of beauty did. She worried, if he continued to blindly follow Julian, he would lose what made him so special.

She had left him in her room with her bird and returned to confront Julius in Declan’s room. She had closed the distance between them with a speed that made the boy flinch away, as if expecting her fist in his gut. Normally he would have been right to expect it, but she didn’t trust herself, at the moment, to not use her power against him. Instead, she invaded his space, and spoke in voice shaking with fury, “You keep my brother out of your ‘clever’ ideas, Valerius. I will not see you ruin everything good in him by turning him into a copy of you, do you hear me? He is the only thing I have here worth anything anymore.” She paused to collect her emotions, appalled at the tears threatening to fall. “Just…get out.”


Antigone blinked and took a long, slow, breath, surprised at the emotions welling up in her chest at the flood of memories. She gave herself a shake and glared at the thief, “What are you going on about, Julian? Don’t be absurd. They saw Kash get taken up here. What do you think is going to happen if we go back downstairs not only without him, but with a woman who looks remarkably like him?”

Clover came in then and scurried up her side to settle on her shoulder. “He men and she men eat and drink. Loud talks. Loud laughs. Bar man says to another check on people upstairs make sure OK. Had food. Luna impatient. Barrow paces. Whisper horse fed and bored.” The mouse shifted slightly and seemed to glare at Julian for a moment before twitching his whiskers and looking away.

Antigone gestured to Kash. “Better untie him. The tavern keep is sending someone up to check on us. Can we all at least pretend to friends for a few minutes, please?”

 

[Soviet Panda]

Aevar Istedir​

"A cruel world makes a cruel man." Aevar said to deaf ears as Julian turned away. Honestly, why even bother asking a question if you didn't want to hear the answer? In a past life, he'd have called him rude and slapped him, gently, upside the head to drive home the point. He stood patiently, arms folded across his chest, and let the conversation of everyone wash over him. He did not have anything important to add, so he didn't bother with speaking and filling the room with hot air. Everyone had valid points. Kash was a stranger, stranger still how he simply knew the symbol of the True Sovereign and wasn't afraid to wave it around for the world to see. Then again, people with that kind of brave idiocy seemed to simply refuse to allow such frivolous things like sense stop them. Julian was a perfect example of this some times. Here they were, poorer than poor, and there he stood well taken care of, hair combed and not a strand out of place and not smelling like a horse.

 

[Soviet Panda]

Kash Willik​

"Yes! That's exactly what the oak means! Oh, I'm so glad you know that symbol. I was beginning to worry that I had approached the wrong person." Kash said, voice somewhat muffled thanks to how he was currently face down on the pillow, his hands were waving and gesturing furiously in the air, tied though they may be. "Now I've learned that the best first step in smoothing over any misunderstanding is to first be untied so that I may be able to take that step." He continued, trying his best to be helpful.

"Oh, but I must correct you on something real quick. He's neither a tavern keep nor a barkeep. He is, in fact, an Inn Keeper. He sells more than just food and drink, but rooms as well! And judging from his rotund stature, a darn good Inn keep at that. If I've only learned one thing in my travels, its that you can never trust a skinny Inn keep."

 

[DeepBlue]

THE SORCERESS

Marnie Sapphire

Female - 84 - Bisexual

As soon as the last droplet fell into the basin, Marnie could feel all eyes in the room watching her. "Ah- just a cold would be bad-"

Unease by the attention, her eyes flickered around the other face, and wondered what her action had meant. Just mere moments ago, she had been comforted among this band of strangers, she was back being uncertain, until she saw Vail smiling at her. She smiled back, and back into the corner for a breather.

The Druid stepped forward and summoned roped from the bare wood of the ground. Marnie could feel the force weaving the rope into existence. The transformation was mesmerising. It also reassured her that however people saw her magic here, there would be no witch hunt.

Myara tied the blond elf in place with the transmuted rope. It seemed thick and solid. ‘This would have given Sylla a field day,’ she thought wistfully of a friend, who was a fellow apprentice back in Selone. Marnie bit her lip, feeling hot tears welling in her eyes. She hasn't thought of anyone from Selone for awhile now.

Nimue warned them of danger, and repeated that the elf was meant to be there. Marnie wiped away her tears, and stared through the walls, imagining unseen eyes and ears.

When Vail pointed out that it was unlikely that any human would be able to remember what a True Sovereign was, she was taken aback by his lack of concern. She noticed the others seemed concerned as well. She stepped closer to him, as he began examining the bard’s drawing, and cleared her throat.

“It may be unlikely that any human would remember,” she said, trying to give her best impression of a stern teacher, “but agents don’t need full information to follow someone’s orders.” She glanced around at the odd group, “And humans are always suspicious of the unusual.”

Vail continued to explain the meaning of the seal to Kash. He seemed enamoured by the finding, and was very willing to pour all his knowledge of it. Exasperated, Marnie closed her eyes and quietly chanted:

“Be like the walk of a cat,
Be like the flight of an owl,
Silent to all beyond this confines.”

She opened her eyes. Nothing had changed in the room. Of course, she didn’t expect anything visually. She turned and quickly explained to the others.

“I’ve muffled our voices to anyone outside this room. In case anyone is listening in. The spell will be broken once the door opens.” She gave them a low remorseful bow them, “Apologies, I should have done this sooner.”

Just then, the druid’s mouse scurried up her shoulders. A silent communication passed through them.
“Better untie him. The tavern keep is sending someone up to check on us. Can we all at least pretend to friends for a few minutes, please?”

Marnie straightened her shawl, an instinctual reflex whenever she hears the approach of an unknown human. Just then, her stomach made a loud growl. It only just occurred to her that she hasn't had breakfast yet, and all the magic used has finally woken her appetite.

“Perhaps we could order more breakfast?” she asked. While she understood the potential danger, she was unwilling to make a hasty exit without preparation. Not one willingly anyway. She dread the idea of running through the forests with nothing but the back of her clothes.


"talk talk talk"
think think think

Location: Big room | With: Everyone | Mood: Trying to act confident

Spoiler: Mobile friendly

As soon as the last droplet fell into the basin, Marnie could feel all eyes in the room watching her. "Ah- just a cold would be bad-"

Unease by the attention, her eyes flickered around the other face, and wondered what her action had meant. Just mere moments ago, she had been comforted among this band of strangers, she was back being uncertain, until she saw Vail smiling at her. She smiled back, and back into the corner for a breather.

The Druid stepped forward and summoned roped from the bare wood of the ground. Marnie could feel the force weaving the rope into existence. The transformation was mesmerising. It also reassured her that however people saw her magic here, there would be no witch hunt.

Myara tied the blond elf in place with the transmuted rope. It seemed thick and solid. ‘This would have given Sylla a field day,’ she thought wistfully of a friend, who was a fellow apprentice back in Selone. Marnie bit her lip, feeling hot tears welling in her eyes. She hasn't thought of anyone from Selone for awhile now.

Nimue warned them of danger, and repeated that the elf was meant to be there. Marnie wiped away her tears, and stared through the walls, imagining unseen eyes and ears.

When Vail pointed out that it was unlikely that any human would be able to remember what a True Sovereign was, she was taken aback by his lack of concern. She noticed the others seemed concerned as well. She stepped closer to him, as he began examining the bard’s drawing, and cleared her throat.

“It may be unlikely that any human would remember,” she said, trying to give her best impression of a stern teacher, “but agents don’t need full information to follow someone’s orders.” She glanced around at the odd group, “And humans are always suspicious of the unusual.”

Vail continued to explain the meaning of the seal to Kash. He seemed enamoured by the finding, and was very willing to pour all his knowledge of it. Exasperated, Marnie closed her eyes and quietly chanted:

“Be like the walk of a cat,
Be like the flight of an owl,
Silent to all beyond this confines.”

She opened her eyes. Nothing had changed in the room. Of course, she didn’t expect anything visually. She turned and quickly explained to the others.

“I’ve muffled our voices to anyone outside this room. In case anyone is listening in. The spell will be broken once the door opens.” She gave them a low remorseful bow them, “Apologies, I should have done this sooner.”

Just then, the druid’s mouse scurried up her shoulders. A silent communication passed through them.
“Better untie him. The tavern keep is sending someone up to check on us. Can we all at least pretend to friends for a few minutes, please?”

Marnie straightened her shawl, an instinctual reflex whenever she hears the approach of an unknown human. Just then, her stomach made a loud growl. It only just occurred to her that she hasn't had breakfast yet, and all the magic used has finally woken her appetite.

“Perhaps we could order more breakfast?” she asked. While she understood the potential danger, she was unwilling to make a hasty exit without preparation. Not one willingly anyway. She dread the idea of running through the forests with nothing but the back of her clothes.