Fantasy A Divided Kingdom [Open]

[MarieK]

The Kingdom of Var is located in a mountainous region, bordering a usually tranquil sea. Although the jagged cliffs that jut out of the ocean precariously ward off warships, merchants have navigated the waters for centuries which are perfectly suited for smaller vessels to travel (as long as one knows the way, that is).

Surrounded by mountains on all sides, the Capital of the kingdom was strategically built to keep invaders out. However, this makes for difficult travel and only the valley is fertile enough to produce any sort of crop. Houses dot the mountainside, mainly occupied by farmers, but some nobles also reside there wanting to be close to the Capital, but also away from the congestion in the city.

The castle is positioned at the center of the Capital. Although the gates of the outer defense wall remain open, except in cases where the safety of the royal family is in jeopardy, the inner bailey is heavily guarded. Only a select few can enter in unless told otherwise.

Surrounding the kingdom are various countries, including lands that Var has trade agreements with. Other than trading, Var remains secluded from the rest of the world.

The Capital itself is always a lively place. The people of Var enjoy many festivals and holidays, and are generally a welcoming civilization. However, as with any people, they hold to their traditions and superstitions. Visitors are treated fairly and protected, but should take caution not to offend one of the nobles or countrymen. In which case, the people tend to be in one accord and shun the visitor or refuse to purchase goods from them if offended.

Crime rates of the Kingdom of Var are some of the lowest among the leading civilizations. With the help of the Royal Guardians, they also have one of the largest and most well-trained military.
​

 

[MarieK]

{Location: Town Hall and the Royal Guardian's Home}


The tension in the air within the meeting hall was palpable. Murmurs resounded across the room as officials argued amongst themselves on top of the platform at the center. What the officials had intended to be a civilized assembly, had been mostly dominated by accusations and insults being tossed back and forth across the room. Their arguments were nothing more than childish tantrums. Not a single soul was willing to cease their yelling long enough to consider the other side.

Arya was almost embarrassed for the kingdom. The people deserved leaders who could work issues out without raising their voices or resorting to name-calling.

Not that she was supposed to attend these events in the first place, but she found them enlightening.

Idly, she wondered if the princes had ventured out of the castle to listen in on the quarterly meeting. Arya inclined her chin, but she couldn't see above the crowd. At any other time, the meetings drew only the interest of a few, but everyone was anxious to hear any bit of news and hundreds had attended that day. Like them, Arya feared her kingdom's future. If the princes insisted to continue to vie for the throne, the kingdom could face a revolution. She hadn't a clue what would happen to the Guard in the case they were forced to both fight and defend the kingdom.

Since the king's death a month ago, a sense of foreboding has settled into her spine. It had happened without warning, shocking the kingdom as well as the guardians. The doctors were unable to agree on the cause of death, but heart attack was the diagnosis that was told to the people. However, the king had been a strong, healthy man. Not that it never happened, but it merely seemed odd that a man, barely in his fifties and healthy, would suddenly keel over with no warning.

Arya shook her head, forcing the thoughts aside. She refused to follow the thought and allow it to lead to much more dangerous musings. It was not her job to speculate, especially when no evidence of a crime had been committed.

Nothing could be heard over the senseless squabbling, but Arthur's presence was more felt than heard as he approached her left. Donning a concealing black hood, she could nearly read his thoughts as it jerked with the nod of his head.

"You've been following me," she said once he was in earshot. It wasn't a question.

Arthur was much taller than her, but even so, he kept his head angled so that the hood concealed his features from those around him as he said, "I didn't have to. I've known for some time that you frequent these meetings."

Her brow burrowed at his words. "You have?"

"My dear, you sneak out to go to the market to get fresh bread only on the days the hold the town meetings, while any other time, you prefer Fern's baking. Do you honestly believe me to be that dense?"

Although she couldn't see his expression, there was a hint of a smile in his voice. It did nothing to cover up the unspoken reprimand beneath it, but she was grateful he wasn't angry.

"Come," he told her, taking her by the arm. "We've gained no insight by being here and our presence would only stir up more strife."

Not wanting to draw unnecessary attention to them, she waited until they had managed to weave through the crowd and reach the outside steps before she spoke again.

"Do you really believe we would cause more issues by attending things like this?" she asked, unable to hide the annoyance in her tone. She swallowed, forcing herself to sound more respectful. "I only mean-"

But Arthur raised his hand, cutting her off. "No. I do not believe there is any harm sitting in on the kingdom's meetings. However, it's harder to remain objective when you hear things like you heard in there. Anyway, if you had wanted to play politics like those big oafs, you should have picked a different career."

Despite having heard the same lecture time and time before, she opened her mouth to argue his point when she heard a commotion at the bottom of the marble staircase leading up to the main hall. A few people had started fighting, but within seconds the entire crowd was thrown into chaos as more joined in while others were desperately trying to find a way of escape. She took a step forward only to be jerked back.

"No," Arthur warned, pointing to the castle guardsmen already running toward the scene. "Let them handle it. We mustn't be seen."

Torn between wanting to help and heeding her mentor's advice, she allowed him to steer her away from the building, albeit begrudgingly.

What was the world coming to?

-

The book, a boring recounting of the kingdom's laws over the past century, was just about to put her to sleep when the training room's door slammed open, jolting her out of the state of semi-consciousness and causing the cat on her lap to raise its hackles and hiss.

She swallowed back a curse as the feline's claws dug into her in preparation to bolt, but she was quick to remove it from her legs before it could draw blood.

"There you are," Arthur said, as if he hadn't been the one to remind her of her promise to brush up on her history of Var after they had returned from the town meeting. He carried a leather bag that appeared ready to explode at the seam with how much he had stuffed into it. An old, scraggly dog followed at his heel as he crossed the room and hoisted the bag onto the table, emptying its contents.

Without the hood, she could clearly see the grey that flecked his auburn hair. The first time she had met him had been more than a decade before when he had been in his early twenties. Aged by the strain of rigorous training and the stress of helping keep the Guard and the kingdom running smoothly, he appeared much older than his thirty-nine years.

Idly, she could not help but wonder if serving in the Guard would take the same toll on her.

"Are you going to stand there and gawk or are you going to come over and see what I've brought?" Arthur barked, the gruffness behind his words telling her that he had noticed her staring and he disapproved.

"Depends," she said, rising from the windowsill she had been sitting on. "Did you bring me a present?"

He made a humorless snort. "You already have enough knives."

"A girl can never have too many knives."

He shook his head, pretending to be exasperated by her antics but she did not miss the way the corner of his lips twitched in amusement.

"Then," he replied, pulling out two small daggers from the pile of weapons, "in that case, here are these."

Taking them into her hands, she tested the weight and feel of then against her palms. She smiled. "Thank you."

He waved her gratitude aside. "You'll need them to train with the new recruits. Which, if I'm not mistaken, they should be here any minute."

"You're not training them, yourself?" It felt wrong not to have him by her side during training. He was always hovering somewhere nearby to ensure that the everyone adhered to the training protocols. Even guardians were prone to make mistakes in the heat of the moment.

Instead of a response, Arthur shook his head and whistled to the dog who had lazily meandered into a corner and was suspiciously sniffing the wall.

"After five years, you'd think he'd be trained to go outside," Arthur muttered to himself as he ushered the dog out the door, leaving her standing at the table, holding the knives.

Yawning, she placed the knives aside and sorted out the weapons across the table so that they were lined neatly and somewhat organized. From swords to axes, they all varied in size and material. All except the knives were placed on the table for other guardians to train with. Those she kept for herself.

{Arthur is npc, can be played by any writer.}

 

[TheRidingWitch]

{Location: Market, Royal Guardians Home}

With everybody crowding around the Town Hall to hear just little snippets of news, the streets were a ghost town. Not many shop owners were home either, big CLOSED signs hung in the windows of various places. Not many carts were on the road either.

Louqlyn didn't appreciate the absence of crowds. The crowds provided hiding points. She walked with her head down, and she pulled up the cloth around her nose. Wearing something clunky like her armor is nothing out of the ordinary here, but it defiantly caught unwanted eyes. Besides, a cloth did well enough to hide her warped skin.

Hurrying down the cobblestone sidewalks, Louqlyn recounted all that she needed to get at the market. Fresh strawberries would do nicely, and maybe a loaf of bread. Upon turning the corner to the market, it was usually crowded, but today there weren't so many as 10 people. Many carts that came back every day to sell their goods were missing, no doubt at the town hall.

Strolling into the market, Louqlyn headed to her usual bread seller. The amazing aroma of honey and oats wafted to her. The lady wasn't there, so Louqlyn inspected some loaves. All of them so fresh that they were still warm. The golden crust on the outside was drizzled with honey, making her mouth water. Louqlyn picked up a loaf that passed her inspection and pulled her coins out. She left the usual amount, hoping prices haven't increased since she last came.

Tucking the bread into the cranny of her arm, Loulyn moved onto her other need. Carts of various products lined the street. Some nice ladies that were selling shimmering fabric waved at Louqlyn. A man with cheeses that had the most pleasant smells smiled at her. She made her way to the large cart that had vegetables and some fruits. The cartons smelled like a delightful spring or summer. Louqlyn picked a carton of unharmed strawberries and paid for them. On the way out, she lingered around the cheese man. The selection consisted of cheese that Louqlyn hadn't even known existed.

She told herself that she didn't need anything else and left before she decided that she needed to buy absolutely everything. A few more people were on the street since earlier this morning, but only a few. Her temporary residence wasn't that far, so she arrived in just a few minutes.

Her house was a small cottage, to remind her that she still had someone to go back to. Immediately when you open the door, you can smell the gunpowder. Her newest experiment, a stun grenade of sorts, laid strewn in pieces across the dining room table. She set the bread down and picked up her research journal. Notes and pictures were scribbled wherever there was room. Various ideas were written then crossed out. Some things were underlined and circled. Louqlyn sighed and sat down and continued her work.

 

[americanCaeser]

{Location: The Drunken Crane, The Capital}

The Drunken Crane was about as seedy was a tavern could get before he quality of their services actualy began to decline, located in the poorest quarter up against the walls. Amazingly, despite the type of crowd it attracts, this is one of the safer bars due to being the haunt of one of the Royal Guards, and not just any Royal Guard. This individual was currently sitting at the main bar with his head down, the sturdy stool he sat on creaked under the stress. The rough, bandit looking occupants in the dining area sat quietly, talking to eachother politely in fear. They don't want to repeat the last time someone annoyed him when he was drinking. Speaking of 'him', Sliv was currently having a bad day.

Sliv wasn't a very complicated guy. He liked his food warm and simple, his drink cold and strong, and his bed unliced and occupied. He also was knowledgable in the fact that most of those were only attainable through coin, and his employer had suffered a sudden case of death. Which was bad for getting the things he liked, and meant the past week of playing babysitter to those angry spiteful little children called nobles was far from enjoyable. He could still feel his headache brewing.

The Royal Guard reached forward to grab the mug of ale before him, and he lifted his head to take another draft. A moment passed, and Ivanoff looked into the mug before tilting it to watch a single drop of the brew fall onto the counter. Sighing, he placed the mug back down and dropped a few coins beside it and got up. Immediately, the other patrons tensed as he made his way passed them, some even scooting their chairs in further so he didn't come close and one unfortunate guy walked in only to see the warrior heading his way and bolted back out the door.

Grabbing his signature wide brimmed straw hat off the rack, Ivanoff stepped outside only to immediately shield his eyes from the sun. He grumbled to himself and placed his hat on his head as he turned towards to where he left Kingdom Slicer lying on the ground. It's not like anyone was going to steel the highly iconic slab of steel. Seeing (briefly) how high in the sky the sun was, he realised his break probably ended a few hours ago which meant he was going back to dealing with the squabbling mass of idiots this kingdom called leaders. He hefted the blade up with only minimal difficulty, cracking a single cobblestone underfoot, and buckled a little as he rested Kingdom Slicer over his shoulders.

The poorly groomed man slapped his face a few times, shook his head, and readied himself for the day to come.

"Welp, back at it."

He began to make his way back to the keep.

 

[Night Write]

{Location: Royal Guard Home}


[writing with the assumption that the Royal Guard Home is a shared home that connects to a few private rooms but has a common living room.]

Arthur walked briskly out of the Royal Guard Home, his dog in tow. The greying man had no interest in sending a servant to clean up the inevitable urine. If he didn’t get the dog to a grassy location, he knew that it would stink up any area for who knew how long. It largely depended on what the dog had to eat/drink that day and Arthur’s eyes weren’t always on the animal.

In his hurry to get the dog out into the courtyard, or some other grassy area, he bumped into Roawn. The two’s casual armor and clothes gave a muted tink. Neither of them were expecting battle, so it didn’t make sense to walk around preparing for a sudden onslaught. Besides, this was a time of peace… well, technically despite the rising political environment. Arthur looked up while he mumbled apologies as his mind was miles away. He registered the well put together frame and face of Roawn. “Excuse me… Oh, it’s just you.” Arthur continued to walk, not expecting an answer, as Roawn turned and watched Arthur go bewildered.

Arthur waved the man away, “My apologies, busy right now, Arya is going to be training the new recruits if you’ve nothing better to do.” He called over his shoulder.

Roawn gave no response other than an acknowledging wave and nod but Arthur’s attention was already elsewhere.

Roawn was about to go to the strategy room, or perhaps the library, to find one of the political scientists. He had some moral issues to discuss, such as, wouldn’t it be immoral to not pick sides in the event that one of the princes began targeting domestic supporters of another prince as a means to undermine competition? Certainly, if noncombative units were being targeted for political gain that would be grounds to pick sides and stop that kind of strategy in its tracks…wouldn’t it? But at the mention that Arya was going to be training the new recruits he decided to stop and see if she wanted company. Or maybe a ‘dummy’ body to show the students certain moves that involved leverage when a person was much bigger and heavier than you.

Besides, after she was done, if she was keen, it would be helpful to have someone with him while he asked the political scientist these kinds of questions. She would be able to relay the information without the laborious task of writing it all down for the other guards to read. Speaking really was a faster and efficient way of communicating.

Roawn made it to the royal guard home and stepped in, peeking inside to see if Arya was still there. He couldn’t cough or make a verbal greeting, so instead, he knocked on the door frame to catch her attention.

 

[Connie]

{Location: Royal Guardian's Home, Medic's Bay}

Corielle flittered manically around the medic's bay, furiously grinding herbs and minerals between paces as she fumbled with her other hand to gather everything she might need. The whole quarter was a scene of chaos, as every healer scrambled to prepare for the inevitable onslaught of injured guards. This wasn't just any day for the medics, this was the new recruits first training day.

Usually she would have liked to attend the quarterly meeting, ensuring that the support's voices were being heard, but some of the more experienced Guardians has a quirky little habit of forgetting that healers have a schedule too. Corielle appreciated deeply that their work was important, but a fighter is no good with a laceration so deep his arm can hardly move! This morning was not much fun.

Darting out of the wing, with reckless disregard for those panicking around her, Corielle sprinted across the courtyard toward the kitchens. "Radish, bishopwort, garlic. Radish, bishopwort, garlic...", she muttered under her breath. Preparing was too important for her to get caught up in her head like usual. All she could pay any mind to was getting together what was needed for the eve... she couldn't even pay mind to what exactly she was running into.

 

[MarieK]

Location: Royal Guard Home in the Training Room
Interacts with: Roawn ​

In the silence that ensued Arthur's departure, Arya's mind went back to the meeting and the fight she had witnessed. Unconsciously, her fingers tapped the wooden table as she rehearsed the events in her mind, trying to find space for them reality. The idea that her kingdom was nearly in shambles all because two brothers disagreed, seemed almost absurd. Thousands of lives hung in the balance, yet the Guard seemed to maintain a traditionalist stance that sidelined them entirely, putting the general population and its monarchy at risk.

Then there was the matter of the oaths. She had never wavered in her loyalty, but what if she was made to choose between keeping her oaths and defending her people?

Leaning forward, her shoulders slumped as she splayed her hands against the solid wood before her and sighed. There did not appear to be a clear path to take. Either way she chose would cost her something. It was merely a matter of deciding what could she not live without.

At the sound of knuckles rapping on the door, Arya started, sending several weapons off the table in a clatter.

"First lesson of the day is how not to scare your instructor," she said, annoyance aimed at her clumsiness tainting the humor in her voice as she bent to retrieve the weapons. "How about you begin some warm up-"

Her sentence tapered off when she finally raised her eyes to the one standing at the door.

"Roawn." The name fell from her lips at the same time the axe she had just picked up, slipped from her hand. Fortunately, it missed the toe of her boot- albeit narrowly. A flush painted the high apexes of her cheekbones. To embarrass herself in front of new recruits was one thing, but it was another thing to do so in front of a fellow guardian.

However, she recovered quickly and retrieved the weapon, placing it back onto the table without further incident.

She opened her mouth to apologize, but reconsidered since the knee-jerk reaction to issue an apology seemed ill-placed considering none of his person had suffered due to her display of inelegant behavior. Instead, Adelaide ran hand through her hair, resetting any stray wisps and removing them from her eyes as she gave him a small smile.

"I'm glad you're here," she murmured, gaze flitting to the hall beyond the doorway. After ensuring they were truly alone, Adelaide visibly relaxed. "I've been meaning to talk to you-"

The sound of footfall was barely detectable, but her sensitive hearing picked up on it, interrupting whatever she was about to say. Adelaide gave him a look that let him know she wished to speak to him as soon as they could find a moment alone.

The group of recruits was relatively small compared to their usual numbers. Ever since the king died, the Guard found it necessary to seek out more and more guardians in order to help with the physical altercations and disputes within the kingdom. Perhaps, since the group was smaller than usual, Arthur was fine with her leading the training that day.

Or it could very well be another test. That idea was most unnerving.

She had asked Roawn to help her by being a human dummy and waited for a nod or a shake of his head. His lack of words never bothered her. He was a silent pillar of strength and whether he was aware of the fact or not, the guardians drew from his reservoir of strength and loyalty. Roawn was also trustworthy, which was why she felt as though she might be able to talk with him about the things she had been mulling over.

The training session did not go as smoothly as she would have hoped. Within mere minutes, her lack of teaching ability became glaringly apparent. Adelaide relied on muscle memory rather than thoroughly thought-out attacks. This, as she was well aware of, was a weakness since one needed to plan accordingly when fighting and maintain one step ahead of their opponent, but during a training exercise with new recruits was not the time or place to remedy the issue.

So instead, she asked Roawn to help her demonstrate by playing out an actual attack. If he so chose to oblige her, she would block the attack and go to sweep his legs out from underneath him- mindfully and respectfully, of course. The man was a giant compared to her and could easily overtake her. The fact gave her a small ounce of pleasure as she went to send him onto his back.

A mischievous tilt of her smile brought out a lone dimple in her left cheek, warning him that she might be planning to ask him to an actual duel sometime soon.

Once the training had commenced and the students left, Adelaide retrieved the book of laws Arthur had given her and held it in her grasp as if to open it, then thought better of it and casually held it in one hand against her hip. Turning to face Roawn, she smiled.

"Well," she said in an exhaled breath, glancing out the window then returning her gaze to his. "We have a bit of time before Arthur wants us to join him in his study for a meeting. Is there anything you needed me to assist you with? Maybe, we could talk a bit in the way there."

'Coward,' came the unbidden thought when she hesitated on telling him her concerns and thoughts of the kingdom and their oaths.

Adelaide shrugged off the accusation and watched for him to indicate what he desired to do.

 

[Night Write]

Location: Royal Guard Home in the Training Room ​

...
She had asked Roawn to help her by being a human dummy and waited for a nod or a shake of his head.
...
So instead, she asked Roawn to help her demonstrate by playing out an actual attack. If he so chose to oblige her, she would block the attack and go to sweep his legs out from underneath him- mindfully and respectfully, of course. ..
...

[fast filler to in-the-moment responses]

Location: Royal Guard Home in the Training Room
responds during training: Arya
​

...
Roawn readily agreed to be the proverbial 'dummy' for the training exercise by giving a small nod and stepping out of the doorframe and gesticulating a, 'ladies first' movement with his hands.
...
Stepping back and positioning himself appropriately, he performed the relevant attack that Arya was seeking as though he was a normal attacker. His feet were swept up from under him, falling back to the floor without damage.
...

 

[TheRidingWitch]

{Location: Guardian Home, Streets of Capital, Training Room}

After a little bit of tinkering and constructing, the stun grenade was fully constructed. Wanting to test it, and having nothing better to do, Louqlyn pushed herself up from her table and swiped up her notebook. Thinking it not best to carry a grenade around people on the street, she grabbed her trench coat from the couch. She was careful in placing the grenade in her pocket, and just as she was about to walk out the door, she remembered the sweet strawberries she had purchased at the market. Praying nobody was allergic she grabbed the carton and quickly washed them off with a bucket of boiled well water.

Pulling the door shut behind her, she looked at the street. Carriage wheels bumped over the uneven cobblestones along with the clipping of the horses' shoes that pulled them. Carefully balancing the strawberries, Louqlyn looks both ways before running across the street. She hopped onto the pathway and made her way the short distance to the Palace. The only way Arthur allowed her to have a house outside of the Palace grounds was if she could get there in a few minutes.

The entrance to the Palace was breathtaking, and always stayed the same amount of beautiful to Louqlyn. The Palace guards stopped her and asked her name like they did every time. She told them, and also gave them a handful of strawberries to enjoy on their shift. She hurried through the mazes and courtyards that she'd had to memorize if she wanted to get to training on time. Guestimating by where the sun was in the sky, someone should be training the recruits. Hoping that they were still there she arrived and yanked open the door. Just about sweating and bending down to regain breath, she shoved the carton toward whoever was in the room.

"I don't care if your allergic, just shut up and eat them."

 

[Korni_Flakes]

{Location: Herb house}

Christie was sitting at a windowsill of an open window of the herb house, gently swaying leg of his that was hanging out the window. He looked up at the clouded blue sky and breathed in the smoke from the pipe. He came there to take some herbs he needed, but got distracted by the beautiful sight outside. Not the first time and probably not the last. He put down the pipe and hid it in his coat, on the positive side he could walk by the training hall and see if they need help with the new recruits.

He stood up and went for the herbs he came there for in the first place, then exited the herb house and went towards the royal guards home. He entered from the back, went trough storage, and exited into corridor, then stopped before the entry to the room and peeked in but only saw the two guardians demonstraiting attacks to the newbies. He decided to just head to the Medic's Bay, and help with the work there. When he entered, everyone was still panicking and runing around, so he went into some corner and took up making medicine out of the herbs, as undisturbingly as he could.

 

[Connie]

{Location: Medic's bay}

As Corielle sped toward the kitchens, she spotted Christie taking a leisurely stroll out of the herb house.

'Oh this means war,' she thought to herself, somehow sprinting even harder in her race to get her supplies and catch up to him. After tearing the kitchens apart, she bolted back to the medic's bay, where the onslaught of injured young fighters were beginning to trickle in, and Corielle practically flew into Christie's lap in her beeline.

"Christie!" She exclaimed, dumping the ingredients she had cradled in her apron down next to him, almost spilling bishopwort into the mortar and pestle he was hunched over. "Where in God's name have you been you levereter?!" She teased, "I tried to make one of your salves and I spent half a century trying to find bishopwart; why didn't you just write hedgenettle?" She inquired, hoisting herself onto the already crowded worktop and placing a hand dramatically on her hip.

Corielle knew well that Christie was a good practitioner, but their rivalry was enormous in her universe. While he was a man of science and well honed skill, Corielle liked to follow her gut and tumble through mistakes until hitting on the right way to treat an ailment. She had a knack for it, but she could feel other classically trained medics like Christie judging her methods constantly, and this nurturing, docile man was the perfect outlet for her frustrations; in his endless patience. However, her soft spot for him didn't change the fact that she couldn't read half of his formal writings.

As she leant her other hand on the work surface to support herself, Corielle felt a sticky substance sliding beneath her fingers, but she had to hold back the smile tugging at her lips to uphold her mock outrage. This line of inquiry was far too important to abandon; what could possibly be more important than supporting his fellow medics on a newbie day?

 

[Korni_Flakes]

{Med Bay}

Oh. Of course Corrielle would be the first to notice, and point out his long abscence, to be clear she was completely justified to do so, and Christiedidn't hold it against her. Still he wasn't prepared to explain himself, even tough he probably should have been. He sighed deeply, and not raising his eyes from the herbs, he said "I was smoking" realising it sounds really stupid he added "I wasn't planning to stay there for long, I wasn't even planning to smoke, just got distracted and forgot myself, don't really have any good excuse, I'm sorry. I just wont take the pipe with me next time" He didn't exacly sound sorry but there was so much he could do when not even having time to look up. He took kneader and mashed the herbs together "and as for the hedgenettle I have no justification, sorry"

 

[Connie]

Corielle frowned a little when Christie rejected her demands for attention, concerned as to why her attempts at playful banter were being batted off. Of course they were extremely busy, but Corielle's focus had now entirely shifted to this new situation. Glancing around the room, she concluded that whoever lead the training today hadn't been as harsh on the new recruits, as some could be, and so she decided to push further.

Snatching the mortar and pestle from under Christie's nose, Corielle hugged it to her chest and batted her eyelashes at him, "Well I hope when you forgot yourself you didn't forget us. You're too serious when you work; we haven't gone to forage at the same place since the first crescent of the new moon!"

She tried to read his expression, but she feared she would lose Christie's attention to the now increasing volume of injured men dragging themselves into the quarter. "I suppose you've been too busy to teach me any of those proper names you use...did you see the new recruits on the training grounds? Are there many? Do they look strong?"

 

[Night Write]

...​

....

[[full response]]

Locations: Royal Guard Home]
Interactions with: Arya

Roawn saw Arya leaned forward at the table she was sitting at, her expression miles away. Whatever she was thinking about, it seemed to be some kind of somber topic if he was interpreting her correctly. Roawn caught her attention by rapping his knuckles onto the door frame.

She jumped, weapons hitting the floor. She didn’t look at him immediately and instead commented as though he was a newbie. Roawn couldn’t help but give a highly amused smirk at the officious, and yet, annoyed tone she took with him… Until she finally noticed who was actually at the door.

Roawn’s eyes seemed to glitter even more now that he caught Arya’s attention and she realized what had just happened, his smirk evening out a bit more into an entertained smile.

“Roawn.” Arya said, surprised, absent minded, or something, he couldn’t quite tell, as the young woman let an axe slip through her hand! Roawn’s eyes followed it, reaching forward in a non-verbal attempt to tell her to, ‘look out!’ but the moment had passed, and nonverbal communication wasn’t very effective, especially in moments like these. Thankfully, the weapon missed her boot. Even though it was unlikely that the blade would cut through boot material just from being dropped, strange things sometimes happen and a weapon was a weapon.

Arya was the center of his attention right now and he wasn’t apt to miss any que of communication that he received, down to noticing the slight pinking at her cheeks before it was gone and she picked up the derelict axe. Upon straightening, he noticed Arya wanted to say something, so Roawn leaned forward a bit, his eyebrows slightly raised, tucking his chin in slightly, urging her to go ahead, but she seemed to decide otherwise.

“I’m glad you’re here,” she said, he thought she was whispering almost cautiously. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you-“But she cut herself off, instead sending him a pointed look that seemed to try and convey importance. He skewed his eyebrows together for a moment, while he understood her meaning, at least he thought he did, he didn’t understand why she didn’t just talk to them now while they were alone. Then he registered the sounds of footfalls and his eyebrows unskewed, giving Arya a nod instead. It was impressive how good Arya’s hearing was, it beat his, that was for sure.


Location: Training Room
Interactions: Arya and Louqlyn

Roawn was quick to agree when he was asked to help with the students, in fact, he had hoped to. He gave Arya a small nod and stepped out of the doorframe gesturing for her to lead the way.

Roawn thought Arya was doing just fine as a trainer, though sometimes she seemed to become deflated. He figured she was likely just being hard on herself. Sure, this was her first training session and it lacked that practiced instruction that other instructors had, but everyone had to start somewhere. Besides, he thought the ‘somewhere’ that Arya was starting from was pretty good.

Plus, he got to be thrown around by someone who was whole head shorter than him and probably around 80 pounds lighter than him. It was kind of fun, her hands were puny and tiny, who wouldn’t like it? The moves clearly earned Arya some respect from the trainees at how she was able to handle a man like him. He could see the respect reflected in their eyes increase as he took off his cloak, overshirt and leather, leaving behind his undershirt. He knew he looked physically intimidating next to Arya’s tiny form, but the purpose for taking off the layers was more utilitarian than that. He needed to show his frame with less obscuring articles that got in the way so that the students could see where exactly Arya was grabbing and pinning to use his own force against him. The additional effect was just a welcome one as the students saw their instructor manage someone who looked so imposing in relation to her itty-bitty frame.

As Arya practiced her moves and sent him to the ground, on his knees, or other incapacitated positions, those who were physically close enough, personally knew him enough, and paid close enough attention, would be able to see that Roawn was enjoying himself even though he didn’t display much of an expression outside of small, almost imperceptible, micro expressions.

Roawn was knocked to the ground after rushing Arya. She had knocked his legs out from under him and his centrifugal force sent him flat on his back. Which he was expecting, so he landed with a thud, a silent rush of air escaping him when he hit the ground, totally unphased. He looked up at Arya to catch her impish smile. Oh, she was enjoying this. He returned her expression with a playful mock narrowed and suspicious look in return before standing back up.

The students left not long after that. As Arya retrieved her book, he grabbed his leather and overshirt, fitting them back on over his body. “Well,” she said, causing Roawn’s attention to be caught. He looked up at her to listen as he finished with his buckles. “We have a bit of time before Arthur wants us to join him in his study for a meeting. Is there anything you need me to assist you with? Maybe, we could talk a bit on the way there.” She offered.

Oh, so soon they’d be speaking to their guide anyways… maybe a political and moral expert would be present as well. That would work out well because then everyone would be present when he asked his morality question. That would save time. So, instead, Roawn gave a slight tilt of his head to point without pointing where he wanted them to go. He had gestured generally to the Guard room where he needed paper to be able to ask her what it was she wanted to talk about and he didn’t have any on him right this very second.

He approached the doors to only have it suddenly yanked right out of reach from his grasp and then abruptly an out of breath Louqlyn stood right in front of him, shoving a carton of strawberries right into his lower chest. Roawn instinctively reached to grab the carton, preventing it from falling, taking a surprised step back.

“I don’t care if you’re allergic, just shut up and eat them.” She managed to order through ragged breaths. Yes, Ma’am, you got it Ma’am. He opened the carton, took out a strawberry, and ate it. His expression held the question he couldn’t say, ‘are you ok?’ as Louqlyn sweated and regained her breath from what had self evidently been one hell of a run.

 

[Korni_Flakes]

{ Medic's Bay}

Christie's eyes followed the utensil, and just then he looked at her "ah... I did see the recruits, it seems Arya and Roawn are training them. There's.... there could be more, and uh I guess they look fairly strong?" It was starting to feel like she didn't feel annoyed by his forgetfulness, but wanted to hold his attention. The number of people needing medical help, was growing the whole time they were talking "and what was that about the proper names? I don't remember you telling me you want to know them? I could teach you them anytime really" He looked at the mortar "also, are you going to give it back?"

 

[Connie]

Corielle frowned more deeply when Christie told her 'there could be more' recruits. She knew exactly what that meant: there weren't enough. Since the king's death, the constant stream of new Guardians still hadn't been enough to keep the peace in the kingdom from day to day, and it seemed the tensions were rising by the hour creating a growing threat of war. Having any group of new recruits be smaller in these trying times was devastating, since their numbers weren't increasing enough as it was; they simply couldn't be in enough places at once with their current ranks.

This harsh reality made her heart sink, as she remembered and partially understood why Christie had been so serious as of late. She sighed and dropped her shoulers, idly surveying the pandemonium taking place in the medic's bay. "Well, it would help if I could learn them, I need to start understanding the tongues you speak at some point," she surrendered, smiling softly at Christie as she handed back his herbs. "Maybe you can teach me tonight, after we've dealt with our work and eaten of course, it could do me some good to stop taking those naps after my meals!"

Corielle hopped off the work surface and started to push together the ingredients she had dropped, studying Christie's face for whether she should work beside him or if he'd rather she move to another workspace or start applying treatments;to give him time alone with his thoughts. She knew they did have to help the others for now, but she was now concerned for Christie's mood and had some worrying thoughts of her own to avoid. All she could do was hope to be distracted thoroughly.

 

[MarieK]

Interacts with: americanCaeser


Leah

The volume of traffic was at it's peek during noon hour, making it difficult to navigate down the street without bumping into a few shoulders. Hooves belonging to various types of farm animals, along with the feet of passersby, kicked up a thick cloud of dust in their wake. The dust particles clung to the exposed crevices of her skin and made breathing a laborious task. One was unwise to inhale deeply, yet she had little choice if she wanted to reach her target in time.

Tendrils of dark hair framed her jaw as the wind shifted and tugged them free from the braid which hung down her back. The wind came from the North, promising winter would soon be upon them. It was still a month or two before they'd get any sort of snow accumulation, but the impending cold made the farmer within her anxious to see the harvesting finish.

Not that she was yet a farmer, but some childhood roots couldn't be shaken entirely.

That eve marked the start of the Harvest Festival where city-dwellers would join countrymen in celebrating another fruitful season- at least they should be celebrating. The air was nigh as thick with dust as it was with dust. The townsfolk might very well be against holding the annual festival. It was hard telling. Fickle hearts made for unreliable decision making. She could hardly read the people around her as she could trust them. But then, she was too bitter and jaded to try.

Rounding the side of a bakery, she nearly plowed into a man outside of a tavern. She stopped short of colliding with his chest, but the aburptness of her sudden stop gave the crowd behind her little time to react. If it had been a guardian or even a soldier, perhaps, they would have been able to sidestep without much thought. But an older gentleman hauling a cart full of produce who was busy talking over his shoulder at one of his misbehaving children, did not see her and his cart hit the small of her back, propelling her forward against the man.

Irate, the farmer berated her and swerved his cart back onto the path.

Leah ignored the cantankerous man and pushed against the man's chest only to look up and realize the man was her intended target.

"Sliv," she said, distancing herself from his person as she dusted off her shirt. "I'm glad I found you in this forsaken mess."

She longed for the countryside where only mountains were around to keep her company and one could take baths in streams and hunt and eat fresh meat. What was best about the country was the lack of crowds.

She sighed to herself and folded her arms across her chest. There was no use pining after something she was unlikely to get anytime soon.

"Arthur has been looking for you. Says he wants to meet with everyone in his study in a half hour. What have you been-"

Leah had meant to ask him what he had been up to but she glanced up at the tavern and put two and two together. Idly, she thought of going in herself, but doubted she would want to leave after she relaxed with a few drinks. She never did care for drinking. It made her too sleepy and the incoherence that came with it unnerved her. She hated the thought of not being in control of her senses, more so when she could not trust her senses while she was yet sober.

Still, it was more than a little tempting to take the day off and unwind.

Maybe at the festival, she promised herself. For now, she had errands to run.

​

 

[americanCaeser]

Interacts with: MarieK

Ivanoff raised one of his hands in mock suprise. "Woah, there. I know you've had a crush on me for years but this is forward, even for you!"

He finished off the sentence with a wry smile, showing how he was joking. Looked back towards The Drunken Crane after she glanced at it, then smiled again as he looked at her and winked. "How 'bout we get a drink later, on me?" He laughed at his own joke before walking down the street.

The sight of the man weilding Kingdom Slicer immediately saw a path being opened before him on the crowded street, and he began walking down it. He glanced back with a look that read 'Are you coming or what'.

 

[MarieK]

Interacts with: Louqlyn and Roawn

Arya could sense that Roawn wanted her to tell him what she was thinking, but she remained quiet until Louqlyn appeared suddenly and thrust a carton of strawberries into Roawn's hands. His sharp reflexes kept the strawberries from falling to the floor.

"Even if I were allergic, I'd eat them," she declared, reaching around Roawn and grabbing one from the carton. The fruit were her favorite, particularly the strawberry tarts the cook made. "It'd be a death worth dying a million times over for."

Death by strawberry. She could just imagine the word being spread around the kingdom that one of their beloved guardians had fallen ill after overindulging herself and causing an allergic reaction. Still, as she rolled the berry between her index finger and thumb, squeezing it slightly upon inspection, she knew better than to eat more than one. Ever since joining the Guard, she had never gone hungry. It was nice, but it made it difficult to maintain her figure.

Belatedly, she realized she had just determined that she was willing to die for the delicate, red berry, but not gain weight. A strange mind she had.

Popping it in her mouth, she let a groan of joy slip from her throat. The thing was delicious! She glanced at Roawn and realized she had technically taken what was his. It was common knowledge one did not steal from a man's plate, but then he wasn't really a man. He was her friend.

She glanced at him then, frowning.

He was a friend... who was a man. Yes, there was no denying the fact. And she was staring.

Stricken and embarrassed for the second time that day, she swallowed- before chewing the fruit sufficiently.

She coughed, choking on it. Perhaps, the thought of death by a berry had been more of a premonition than she'd realized.

She waved her hand as she choked to ensure anyone who happened to see the pathetic display of her face reddening and her hand clutching her throat, that she was just fine. Turning her back on Roawn, she glanced up to try to get Louqlyn's attention without Roawn noticing when the berry dislodged and slid down her throat and into her stomach with the ease of a giant boulder.

"Delicious," she gasped, still shielding her face from the two. Once she caught her breath, she straightened her spine and attempted a smile. "To die for, really."


​

 

[Heda]

{Location: Royal Palace and Rooftop}

Amber eyes stared at the wall of shelves. Candlelight illuminated the small room with a soft, warm light, flickering over the handwritten labels. The letters were not written in full common words but rather in Nari's own shorthand. A tactic she picked up from studying a foreign target who no longer drew breath. Most of the jars contained small, juicy berries of death; each with their own side effects. Her eyes dropped back down to the ledger in her hands, making a mark across the page as she took inventory of her personal arsenal of poisons, the lifeblood of one of her tasks as the royal families spy.

She had not been out on any jobs recently, not since the sudden death of the late king and the two brothers both vying for the throne. It was a family divided and if a resolution didn't figure itself out, it was soon to be a kingdom divided. Nari liked all of the royal siblings. They all had their uses but sooner or later, she would have to decided which prince to align herself with. She was surprised neither of them had yet tried to turn her on the other. Sending Nari to do what she did best would bring quick results but neither of the princes were that stupid.

Nari would surely find herself behind bars or facing the headmans axe for the death of a royal family member. She was lucky to not be accused of the kings sudden passing. No one knew how the man perished but Nari had a few ideas... ideas she had not yet shared with anyone and wasn't ever likely too.

The sound of the ledger slamming closed echoed through the small, dark chamber and Nari neatly placed the quill beside the pages. She was running low on a few of her favourite poisons and others were nearly on their way out, their potency soon to no longer be of use to her kind of work. She would have to make a trip down to the medic bay of the Guardian House and have a chat with one of her favourite healers.

The brown-and-white haired spy reached out, pulling back the heavy, dark curtains covering the window, allowing a small sliver of daylight to stream into the room. The ray highlighted the floating dust, one of Nari's most hated features of this place in the palace she was required to lock up her deadly tools. She wouldn't want some servant to come looking for a snack only to end up bloody and dead in some hallway.

It was high time she checked in on her other set of tools but for that, she would need to go to the roof of a certain tower attached to the palace. She blew out the candle and left the small, dark room, locking the door behind her. The spy adjusted her hood, pulling it down to hang over the top half of her face and shield most of it from the prying eyes of palace servants. They all knew who she was and most were smart enough to stay out of her way but Nari was a stickler for the certain stereotype she filled. In fact, she even enjoyed spooking some of the servants children from time to time within the palace grounds.

It didn't take long to reach the small, single-file stairway Nari was looking for. She climbed and climbed the steps, leading up to an old, wooden door and placed another key into the lock, pushing it open. The spy had to shield her eyes for a moment at the onslaught of sunlight, giving herself a moment to adjust to the brightness of the day. Here, she made her way silently across the roof, stopping before a large bird coop. There was nothing special about the inhabitants of this cage. A handful of pigeons fluttered about as she approached, the only distinct feature about them all was the white tipped wings they all shared. It was her way of knowing which pigeons were hers, so she could not mistake them for the thousands of pigeons that flocked to the city.

Nair pulled a small pouch of bird seed from one of the numerous pockets and threw a few small handfuls into the cage, 'cooing' softly at the birds as they flocked to the food. There seemed to be nothing new or changed here. She counted only six out of the eight she kept; meaning there were no new messages for the spy to be concerned about. Nari straightened, shoving the now empty pouch into the pocket she pulled it from and returned to the stairway, locking the door behind her and making for the interior halls of the palace once more.

 

[TheRidingWitch]

{Location: Royal Guardian Home}
[Interacts with Roawn and Arya]

Sucking in breath after breath, finally Louqlyn had enough oxygen in her system to stand upright. Fidgeting with the cloth at her face, she eventually got it back to the right place after the wheezing fit dislodged it. Standing up straight, she took account of the people in the room. No recruits, meaning she needed to get better at guestimating time or just running faster. She hoped it was the former. It was only Arya and Roawn, but no Arthur. Had Arya trained them? Or Roawn?

Giving how both of the Guardians didn't try to refuse to eat the strawberries, neither of them were allergic. But if they liked them was the question. Both Guardians didn't hesitate taking one, but Arya's face was a clear sign she liked it. Roawn didn't show anything though.

Arya's hacking dug her out of her thoughts. Despite waving her hand that she was ok, she didn't look all ok. But Louqlyn couldn't help snickering. Yes, Guardians were supposed to be these big burly people with combat skills, but every once in a while, they are brought down a level. While Arya continued her choking session, Louqlyn tried to remember why she came here. It surely wasn't just to give someone strawberries. Was it? Arya said something and stopped coughing, but it didn't register to Louqlyn. OH WAIT. The grenade! She needed to test it.

Hoping the Guardians didn't have anything major on their schedule, Louqlyn reached into her coat pocket. If she had set it right, it would go off in 3 seconds. It was only a small stun grenade, so it would emit light and a semi-loud noise, but otherwise harmless. Pulling the pin in her pocket, she tried to nonchalantly drop it. When it hit the ground she bounced behind the door and plugged her ears. She whispered silent apologies.

 

[MarieK]

Interacts with: Ivanova
Mentions: Lazaro1505

Leah

Brushing a stray hair from her cheek, Leah released and exaggerated sigh of mock aggravation.

"No one can keep a secret anymore," she muttered, shaking her head.

Her response was likely drowned out by the noise around them, but she didn't try to repeat herself. People often made jests about the softness of her voice, accusing her of murmuring when she merely had a soft tone. It wasn't high pitched, but it just didn't carry across distance well. What no one knew was that her vocal chords often pained her, as if the strain from singing earlier in life had damaged them. Whatever the case, she refused to be apologetic for something that was outside of her power to change.

His offer and laughter that followed, brought her back to the present. Flashing him a coy smile, she issued a decisive nod in his direction. The joke was on him because she planned to seek him out that evening for the drink.

He should not make offers he was not intent on keeping.

She missed his pointed look due to a loud argument rising over the sea of people, stemming from a disgruntled merchant over a horse that had gotten too close to his stand and had bumped into it, sending a watermelon to its demise against the hardened, dirt below. When she had glanced back to Silv, he was ten strides- which to her rather short legs in comparison to his own, was more like twenty strides- ahead. She had to run to catch up to him.

The man was broad enough to part the crowd like the Red Sea, making it so that she did not have to bump shoulders with anyone. Sticking close to his side, she absent-mindedly reached for the necklace that hung around her neck. The chain was visible until it drooped below her collarbone where the fabric of her shirt kept the rest of it out if sight.

"Have you seen, Ro?" The man could very well still be asleep in his bed. When Arthur had instructed her to find the missing guardians, she had first sought out Silv, knowing the general locations he frequented. Perhaps, he had happened to see Jouverelli which would make her job easier. ​

 

[Lazaro1505]

{Location: Royal Guard Home, Jouverelli’s private quarters}

“In the darkest of nights, where the very light itself has been devoured and encasing everything in an eternal black blanket, we shall become the the approaching dawn over the side of the hill, for we are the bright light of hope! For we are the Oath Bearers, guardians of the innocent and protectors of the pure, and executioners of the wicked. We are the light and flame of all that is holy in nature, and we shall bring forth our judgement over this world and make it so that none have to suffer ever again at the hands of these ‘monsters’ with human skin. May our never-ending quest bring forth an brighter tomorrow for those under our watch!”

Within one of many private quarter’s that houses none other than the very Royal Guardians, an certain individual was partaking upon an daily occurrence that has become like that of second nature to him. The room appeared to be cleanly kept, if not, bland and somewhat empty of much decoration to brighten up the room. But within one such corner of an room, an figure was upon their knees and held both palms of his hands together in a sort of prayer, with the object of prayer being an small wooden structure crafted into that of an humanoid like shape, with seemingly robes covering its form and in one hand, a sword raised into the air, while another, a book laid open within his left hand.

There were small gifts and trinkets about as well, such as crosses made out of a sort of metal and both coin and food laying within a bowl. This man was none other than Jouverelli Rose, an Royal Guard who had joined their ranks months ago when he was still but an wandering knight seeking redemption. No thoughts were currently going through his head, his mind clear and empty, silently praying in peace to his deity as an daily task to start out one’s day. It was important to do so, after all, one must not forget their purpose of the sacred task given to them and clear out their mind before such stress can hamper them. Without another word and a couple of minutes passing by, Jouv finally rose from his spot, moving away as he finally set out to begin his day and exit his room.

He had went to a nearby drawer next to his cleanly kept bed, and reached inside to grab out an roll of bandages. One must consider, why require the need to have an fresh roll of bandages at ones side in a easy time reach place. One purpose in fact. It was to cover his face with. Many of the vows that the Oath Bearer’s have put forth into following is losing the identity of one’s self to become as of that as their fellow brother’s and sister’s who share the same Oath, becoming like that of nameless soldiers of the past who had fought brave and hard only to be forgotten by those of legend. Of course, his usage of his name had already brought forth some trouble with keeping this Oath, but it was far better than simply going with ‘Oath Bearer’ instead of a real name in such an distant land. He continued forth with wrapping only his head within the bandages from the roll, having no need to cover the rest of his body due to the clothing and armor he shall be wearing which would cover mostly everything, and somewhat his head with the cloth over it, but if it were to raised, one could have seen his face, so he rather not risk that.

Now done with such a task, he returned the bandages to its location and went forth to another side of the room, to which, there lies his armor and long-sword, the former on some sort of armor stand to keep it upright and in a close location while the latter was in on a sort of shelf. It was one of the few things he asked for, which was easy access to his equipment and weaponry straight from his room so that he could prepare himself quicker and be ready for an fight to defend someone or himself if time calls for it. He merely reached forth towards the armor, his right hand upon the hardened steel armor in front of him, the shined metal reflecting the brown eyes left uncovered by the bandages and staring back at them. He merely gave a sigh and sent forth to putting on his armor. Jouv had wasted enough time lying about, and he doesn’t wish to waste anymore by doing nothing here.

Some time later

Exiting his room, Jouv was now fully equipped with his signature armor and Long-sword within itself sheath at the side of his left waist. The cloth that covered some of his form laid rather lazily about in the air, the still bloodied rags doing little to make the appearance of an rather large armored and faceless figure any less menacing in some way. But Jouv cared not for such, after all, as long as it does nothing to hinder him from completing his tasks… then it was fine with him. Now… where to travel first, as Rose thought to himself about going.​

 

[Night Write]

[Interactions: Arya and Louqlyn]

It took Louqlyn a moment to recover. Roawn curiously wondered just how far she had run. It actually didn’t take her very long to recover as she straightened the cloth over her face. Would he, or anyone else, ever get to see what Louqlyn’s face look like? Surely she had someone in her life she trusted, right? He actually relied a fair amount on people’s expressions. People sometimes tried to mislead what they mean, but it was hard for people to control what they said, how they said it, their body language, and their micro expressions. Windows to the soul indeed. It was a little disjointing for him that she kept her face hidden; disconnecting.

“…It’d be a death worth dying…” Arya joked as she appreciated the fruit. Roawn gave a small breathy huff, his version of a snort, an amused smirk on his face as he raised his eyebrows at Arya’s willingness to die for a strawberry. She seemed to enjoy it as he openly and casually looked at her back. He broke the regard by bringing his attention back to Louqlyn, strawberries in hand, before he witnessed some sort of embarrassment or alteration in Arya… but it wasn’t long thereafter that Arya was coughing, turning red faced, a hand over her throat, another hand waving them off as she turned her back to him. He was about to give her a swift and firm swat on her back, but then she spoke. She had saved herself from a food dislodging thwap.

At first, Arya’s body blocked Roawn’s view of Louqlyn reaching into her pocket. A light thunk hit the ground, then suddenly Louqlyn seemed to suddenly tap into her inner cheetah as she jumped behind the door and slammed it. This was very alarming... Considering what happened last time… Oh no….

One…

Roawn looked down where the falling noise originated and saw one of Louqlyn’s damn grenades. Last time he had the misfortune of being a nonconsenting grenade Guinee pig, he remembered she was trying to make… a smoke screen bomb…? Some kind of grenade, he couldn’t remember. But he did remember that it had too much sulfur or something in it, he was no chemist. He didn’t know. What he did know was that he ended up smelling like a fart for an entire day despite how much he scrubbed. Not this time, he hoped. He dropped the strawberries, scattering them on the ground.

Two…

Roawn reached down to snatch the grenade, turning away from Arya as fast as he could to chuck it as hard as he could away.

Three.

The grenade went off probably a foot away from him at eyelevel. He had been expecting another attempt at whatever it was the last grenade was. He thought he remembered that not only did it produce smoke, but that it also took more time for it to go off. Had this one literally exploded? He thought he felt some kind of air rushing, was that just the air vibrating from the bang or had it actually exploded? Things were happening very quickly.

Everything about this grenade was absolutely unexpected. Bright light pierced his eyes as he had been staring right at the device, a loud popping bang rang in his ears disorientating him. He tuned his body away, stepping back, bumping into Arya, his vision heavily blotched and blurred between bright circles, black circles, and overlapping rainbows. His ears rang and his equilibrium became threatened into staggered and temporarily blinded steps. He slipped on the strewn strawberries, their flesh and juice creating a slick slip that he failed to gain traction on. In an attempt to find something to slow or stop his fall, he ended up yanking Arya down with him.

Thud, crack. Roawn landed on his back absolutely stunned and disoriented on what had just happened. His vision started to spot back to normal, the beams of the ceiling coming into view.

 

[FireMaiden]

Princess Yvette
Location:
Library - Gardens
Interaction:
Open
Mentioned:
N/A​

The sound of a quill tapping against the bottom of the inkwell could be heard if you got close enough to the back of the library. That sound would be followed by the light sound is scratching as neat looping letter were put to parchment. It was the beginning of a letter, addressing a recent concern one of the nobles had. In fact, Yvette had been writing a lot of these letter recently, addressing the same concerns. They were worried about civil war. Worried about what would happen to Var if the princes couldn't come to a decision or if a king just... wasn't named. These letters always contained the same general platitudes. Yvette assuring them that things would be fine and that a new king would be crowned soon. It would work for the most part, the nobles liked pretending that everything was okay. Not that it was...her idiot brothers were on the verge of tearing the kingdom apart. Stuck in a grand pissing contest of who should be king. It was infuriating.

With a sigh, the princess dipped the quill back into the ink, her fingers drumming against the table as a body shifted against her feet. "I know Aslan, I'll be done soon." This normally wasn't a task the royalty would take on themselves. But Yvette felt like it was needed to keep the people calm. There was enough tension in the air already, and at least one of them needed to try keeping the peace. Her eyes scanned the letter, hoping it would be enough to convince the recipient that all would be fine. Yvette was...not entirely convinced but it would have to do. Picking up the quill again, Yvette brought it down to the bottom of the parchment and signed her name. Once she had, the quill was returned and the letter pushed away. The ink needed to dry which meant...

The princess's exhausted expression quickly shifted as she slipped out of the chair and onto the floor underneath the table where a large curled up...dog? was laying. "Aslan~" She cooed, hearing the thump of a tail against the floor. "Who wants to go outside?" The wolf jumped up, knocking his head on the underside of the table. Which in turn caused the princess to laugh. Her laugh sounded like bells, melodic and soft. Aslan scrambled out from underneath the table, the sound of his paws excitedly tapping against the floor causing Yvette to laugh again as she followed him out. Standing up and dusting the front of her dress off, she grabbed the front of it by both hands and hiked it up. "Ready?" She asked, giggling as she watched the wolf act like he was getting ready to pounce. "Go!"

They took off at the same time, running through the library and through the slightly open double doors. Yvette hardly wore shoes when there was nothing important going on. So as she and Aslan ran through the halls, you wouldn't hear the clicking of heels, just the padding of feet. And her laughter as Aslan skidded around corners. The wolf knew exactly where they were headed. The private gardens closed off to the rest of the public. Yvette and Aslan spent a lot of time out there having fun. Especially now, it was a bit weird being in the castle.

As the pair dipped around corners and ran past maids and guards, Yvette made sure to not get in anyone's way. The wolf...not so much, but what did you expect. The doors that lead outside to the gardens came into view as she and Aslan turned into one of the many parlors that made up the castle interior. The wolf stopped just short of the large doors, taping his feet excitedly as Yvette giggled. Quickly she opened the door, releasing the beast who made a beeline for a pond. Aslan jumped about a foot away from it and a giant splash followed shortly after. He always did that. Sure, it bothered the ducks, but he didn't eat them. So after some annoyed quacking, they'd leave him alone. "Feeling better?" Yvette asked, following after her hound to sit on a low stone bench close to the pond. The wolf gave a very canine smile as he paddled by. "Well don't overstay you're welcome, they'll bite your tail again."