Fantasy Hope of a Nation

[Shog]

CS: Hope of a Nation Characters
OOC: Hope of a Nation OOC


The kingdom of Thura has constantly been in conflict with the neighboring nation of Ragor. Everyone knew it would all boil over eventually, but none suspected how devastating the first blow would be. Ragor had been working on new technology beyond anything previously conceived. While Thura is bolstering their defenses and desperately attempting to push back the Ragor onslaught, people are losing hope. That's where you step in. You have a special skill that can be instrumental in winning the war and as such have been called upon by the king himself. Time is running short and the people of Thura desperately need your help.

KStrausser Blaire Wisteria NekoQueen49 Sizniche Ms. Sparrow

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The crackling fire was drowned out by the boisterous laughter that filled the room. The pub was filled with drunks trying enjoy the night, knowing the next day only brought more hardships. Thura had been prosperous and relatively safe before the war. Now many drank to forget and enjoyed every night like it was their last, which it very well could be. The war had effected everyone: nobles, merchants, farmers, criminals, even Eldrtich. He made a point of having no ties to any particular location, yet everywhere he turned he saw and felt the hardships everyone faced. Lately he'd been moving closer to Aldun, the capitol. He couldn't quite explain why. Maybe that's just because he got the general sense that's what most people wanted to do.

After drinking a few round himself, Eldritch headed up to the bed he rented for the night. He locked the door behind him and removed his cloak and dagger before he sensed something was off. He wasn't alone in the room. There was someone... wait... two someones in the room with him. Their minds were well shielded, but he was stronger. He focused down on one, unleashing a torrent of mental energy. This caused the man to cry out in pain, lowering his mental barriers. He learned there was two others with him and one was wearing a rare charm to completely hide their mental presence. He intentionally made sure to not know where this third member was hiding, but Eldritch found out soon enough. An arm wrapped around his neck and he felt something prick his skin. He tried to fight off his attacker, but soon the room went dark.

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When Eldritch awoke, he was sitting in a room he didn't recognize. It was all stone brick with the exception of the thick oak door. He was sitting on a plush chair around a long table. Others were also around the table like himself, though only a few looked like they weren't pulled from their lives like himself. His backpack and weapons were removed, but he was willing to fight his way out of this as needed.

"Please do not panic," a voice cautioned. "Thura is in need of your aid. I will explain once everyone is conscious."

The voice came from the queen herself. Now this aught to be interesting.

(Unless you have ties to the royal court (Orsic or Xander) enter as I have. For those exceptions you can have just followed royal orders to arrive in the same room.)

 

[NekoQueen49]

The path of the forest wasn't well beaten by the standards of most people, but to Fortune, it was as familiar to her as the back of her hand. Perhaps even more so, considering the back of her hand contained several scars of which she wasn't sure of their origin. However, the things contained within said forest, wasn't acting as their usual selves. The birds, most of them at least, were silent.

The girl expected as much. They were close to the city after all. Sometimes the people would find her. Hunters, mostly, but Fortune usually sought to avoid them save for the rare case where she would sometimes escort travelers. That happened mostly when she was young and naïve and have since learned that such things didn't end well. Most of the time at least.

Usually she wouldn't have strayed so close to places where humans resided but her natural curiosity overwhelmed her when she saw her pack coming closer and closer, probably smelling something strange. It must have been quite alluring to draw them so close. Fortune was often envious of their heightened sense of smell.

Fortune was snapped out of her reverie when her ears caught a noise; a branch breaking. Sometimes deer were clumsy enough to make such a sound, rabbits too, but even so, her guard drew up. To be safe, she glanced over at Beardsley (a childhood nickname given to him due the scruff on his chin that was shaped like a beard), only to find the mottled brown wolf had abandoned her. A thing that only made her more suspicious.

Not wanting to take any more risks for the day, she turned on her heel and headed back into the safety of her forest. That was, until an assailant grabbed her from behind. Fortune struggled against him, howling in the direction of the forest before the man clasped a hand over her mouth. Something pricked against her arm while the wolves answered back with howls and growls of their own. That was the last thing she heard before her vision turned into darkness.

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Fortune woke slowly until she felt the difference in her usual sleeping habits. Her head snapped up, wildly taking in the strange surroundings. It was a rare occasion indeed when she was trapped between four walls and so it was claustrophobic to her. The seat was plush and much too soft for her liking as well as being too many people in the room with her. One was too many in her opinion, not to mention several. Seven, she counted. "Where am I?" Fortune demanded, glaring daggers at everyone in the room, including the ones that were still asleep and seemed to be in the same situation as she. "Why have you taken me here?"
Shog (and everyone else)

 

[Ms. Sparrow]

Sadima set the tray down on the table silently, the drunken cheers of the tavern rang out as the men celebrated a fine catch, she had heard they had caught over two dozen fish, and the alchohol was flowing like water. Being a waitress was a part time job, and it allowed her to see who came into town. Sadima had to keep a sharp eye out for those whom worked with the authorities, and most importantly Lord Vanderhal's men.

No men dare lay eyes on her, because it was said those that did often left the tavern with something missing...or some severely traumatizing memories on the undead. It was near eleven in the evening, and the moon shone high as above the tall buildings, casting shadows on those who walk the streets so late in the dark. Those that did walk around at these hours were generally people you wanted to avoid.

Spoiler: Apparel (No weapon)

Sadima slipped into the back room of the tavern, where she began to change into her armor, preparing for another night of mischief and thievery. She released the cap from her hair and untied it, letting her maroon hair fall down to her waist before she shoved it back into her hood as she slipped it over her head. She grabbed her sword and only made it halfway out the window before she heard an almost barely audible footsteps in the room.

An arm grabbed her and tried to pull her back through the window, Sadima brought her elbow back into her assaliants face where she heard a satisfying crunch and a yelp from him, before a pair of arms grabbed both of her own and before she could writhe out of their grasp she felt a something prick her arm and she felt herself instantly slip away into the darkness.
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She could lie like this forever.

That was the first thought that entered her mind as her conscious slowly came to mind. But then she realized she wasn't laying down, she didn't own a bed, and the tavern didn't have plush cushions. Sadima lay still, no longer did she feel the weight of her sword strapped to her side, which meant she was disarmed. The pull of the dead was distant here.

It was the queens voice that made her groan out loud. She was screwed. The authorities had found her and turned her in for her crimes. Sadima rested her head down on her arms on the table, not even opening her eyes. The queen had told her Thura needed her help. Was this some hilarious punishment of some sort?

The sound of a girls voice shouting angrily, and demanding where she was sent a flicker of annoyance running through her and Sadima sat up and looked around the room, she found herself sitting at a table with others, some still asleep, and some had obviously been stolen away like she had from the looks on there faces.

Sadima looked at the blonde woman in irritation. What part of don't freak out or panic was unclear? "What part of 'Hey, we just drugged you, but don't panic' is unclear?" Sadima said sarcastically but with the slightest hint of ice in her tone before she her head back down on the table.

Sadima was an odd looking sort at best. She had smooth pale skin, with unnatural dark red hair, but most of all the thing that stood out about her was her eyes. They were a bright gold, with dark blue irises that were barely visible unless there was colder inspection. What was once light was now dark, both mentally and physically at this point.

Shog NekoQueen49 (Everyone else)

 

[KStrausser]

Osric sat at the hearth with a book. His own shadows danced behind him on the walls of his modest room. It was in a travelers' inn that he had taken up residence, a place for gossip and news and rumours where the guests never stayed long enough to remember his face, and where the innkeeper never asked too many questions. Its close proximity to the castle also made his frequent summons less exhausting; but more than anything, perhaps, was the quiet that it afforded him - weary travelers often had little energy left for a row. He had in his hands another one of Lady Tolvere's books he had "borrowed", figuring she wouldn't have minded. Aside from the books, he had little to do these days. The war had, in its own ugly way, gave the many squabbling nobles somewhere else to divert their attentions, and the crown little need for his service.

He sighed. It was a book about some dead King no one living still cared about. It did get terribly boring without work.

A rasp on the door, and Osric's hand instinctively shot for the knife stuck in his boot, his reading material landing with a thud, dangerously close to the crackling flame. He waited, held his breath. In his profession, it paid off to always assume the worst, as it was often true. Another knock, then quiet again. The dread left him as quickly as it had come. Maybe. Perhaps... Two more knocks, and he couldn't help but smile.

His little holiday was over. Back to work, then.
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Once again, Osric found himself sitting and waiting, silently observing as he often did. Unlike him who had come of his own volition, these poor sods were only now waking up, most likely dazed and confused and, some, hostile. Was kidnapping them the best way to turn them to the cause? No, but it was faintly amusing, he admitted. The expressions on their faces were of some comfort to his growing impatience.

Osric would have preferred to be standing next to the Queen as was his duty, but it was demanded that he sat at the table instead. They had all been disarmed but for himself, of course, in case one decided that attempting to assassinate the monarch of Thura was a bright idea. It made him no less uneasy. Many of them here had weapons that weren't made of steel or wood - things you couldn't touch, couldn't disarm, things you couldn't even kill. The man that woke up first was... Disturbingly calm.

"There won't be any lasting side effects, I assure you" He was familiar with the substance that was used to knock them out. He had even been victim to it, more times than he cared to admit. "You've heard Her Majesty." He turned to wild woman, and then the oddly pale redhead who had spoke, offering her a half-smile. "Patience"


Shog NekoQueen49 Blaire Wisteria Sizniche Ms. Sparrow

 

[Moolock]

Mel Da'Ran

Pouch heavy from a job well done, mind foggy from some alcohol she'd splurged on with some of her earnings, the sellsword looked out over the tavern in its boisterous amber glow with a satisfied smirk as she leaned back on her chair against the wall. She had no songs to sing nor friends to order rounds for but the music was upbeat and the ale was good so despite her reserved position, the woman was enjoying herself quite a lot. A comfortable bed awaited her upstairs, a token of appreciation from the innkeeper after she knocked the heads of a few roughians harassing the patrons. Happily a stranger, a simple quirky woman who drew many a gaze carrying a sword nearly her height on her back, Mel relished the night and the ale for hours before the music softened and the boisterous drinkers went out to leave the quiet ones still winding down in the hazy interior of the tavern. Mel collected herself and set the empty mug on the counter on her way toward the stairs, rolling her shoulders back to loosen up from how she'd been slumped for well over three hours.

Up the stairs and into the dim hallway, Mel came to her door and rummaged in her pouch for her key, in the process scanning the doorknob over as her eyes gave a single flicker of the arcane bluish-purple light. The spider-silk-thin band of magic she'd thrown across the doorway hung limply, broken in the middle. Someone inside... Mel shook off the sudden stiffness of the revelation and unlocked the doorknob, stepping fully into the dark room as confidently as someone believing themselves to be alone would. No movement, no silhouette by the window. She crossed to the desk and calmly lit the lantern on it with a flame produced from the tip of her finger. "It's not my first time dealing with intruders, you know." With a quiet humming, the woman reached to the back of the desk for a bottle of wine- more splurging from earlier- and pours two glasses. "Drink your fill," she advises as she scoops up her own goblet to sip from. "Or at least wait for me to finish my own before we do this."

Her little intruder made no reply, nor noise, and for a silly moment Mel wondered if she was alone and speaking to nothing, whoever had come in already gone. She shook her head and drank her wine, sending a spectral hand out to wander the room and check through her things. It felt through the shadows and found her weapons, her three swords and the greatsword where she'd left them. The faint light in her eyes died as she gazed into the darkness. "Must I turn my back?"

There was a flicker at the edge of her vision, the door swung closed, and a sudden force knocked her to the side and sent her sprawling. Mel's head snapped down against the floor and combined with the alcohol, the light faded. She gasped, struggling for breath as the belt buckle jammed into her stomach painfully. She heard dull footsteps and they echoed in her mind until a pinch of pain to back of her neck closed the darkness...

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This... cannot get worse. Mel's first thought before that was a swear, then as she forced herself to groggy consciousness, she realized the weight of her coins, knives, poison, and swords were all gone. It's worse. And her hands were bound. The chair was nice and comfy enough but the weight in her stomach seemed to drag her right through the plush. The four walls around her were not the tavern. Please f*** no... She lifted her head to the side, puffing a bit of hair out of her face, a sarcastic voice coming to her ears. Confused but pleased that someone else was taking issue with this, she grinned faintly. It seemed she was the last one to wake up as everyone was already talking- a table of stranger with a rich man at one end. She wrinkled her nose. He seemed like the sort who didn't work for his money, just spoke to the right people. She instantly disliked him. "Two questions," Mel started bluntly. "I assume we're all wondering where we are- someone already asked, I think. So, where? Two," her gaze flicked to the Queen, "I'm sorry but if this is some new way to draft people for the growing conflict, for the love of the gods please change it." She tried to keep the bite out of her voice, she really did, but the irritable woman she was had so many problems with what just happened. Easily a bristling, unhappy camper, the sellsword sat scowling to the rich man and the queen. She heeded no authority but fate.


@ (everyone)

 

[Shog]

Everyone in the room was just a bit too tense for Eldritch's liking. His eyes dully glowed as he sent out a wave of energy to calm the minds of everyone it touched. That was better. He noticed one of the only armed men in the room, the one who spoke of the substance they'd been injected with, felt uneasy with how calm he was in this situation. It was simply his natural response to these kinds of threats. The more panicked he was, the more clouded his mind, the harder it would be to use his magic. Besides, now that he knew he was here upon the queen's request he was very interested to see where this would lead.

"I shall explain everything," the queen said. "Just understand that I have gone to some very extreme lengths to get you all together as quickly and quietly as possible. I should not have to tell you that war is ravaging our country. Our forces are spread thin as is. What I want is for you to infiltrate Ragor and help destroy them from the inside. Should you succeed, you will be regarded as heroes until the end of Thura itself. I would send a more professional team, but Osric here is the only one not deployed already." She stopped to sigh and rub her temples. "My husband, the King of this great country, has already decreed that I am forbidden from pulling you all together for this mission, but times are desperate. We've been watching each of you for quite some time now, weighing in your possible value. This is far from the ideal method of gathering you together, but we are short on time. To answer your question, at the moment we are in a secret room under the castle. I cannot force you to join, so if you wish to walk I will have you escorted out. Should you be guilty of committing crimes against the people of my kingdom then your escort will be to the dungeons. Should you accept and succeed, then you will be given full pardons as well as exceptional hero benefits. So what do you say?"

Eldritch was prepared to accept, but wanted to hear what the others had to say. He felt the sorrow and desperation behind the queen's words. She was sincere. Besides, it's not like he had anything better to do.

Moolock KStrausser Ms. Sparrow NekoQueen49

 

[Blaire Wisteria]

A man, donned in only the finest of silks, sat at his desk illuminated by a large candelabra in the corner. Across from him sat a nervous and twitchy man holding some legal documents up to the light. "So, what you're saying is, is that I'm going to hand over all of my assets and I'd get 2% from all future profits. That seems a little low to me, don't you think? How will I be able to afford to feed my family?" The man said with a shaky tone in his voice. Deep down, he knew whether or not he signed the document, he was losing his business. He just hoped to get at least something out of it. "Oh no, you'll still have plenty enough money to go around after everything is settled." Xander assured the man. "Think about it, instead of only selling your wares to this little village, you'd be selling to the entire country. Everyone everywhere will know of your quality wares. All I'm trying to do is get your brand out there." Xander lied. Thinking about it for a minute, the man nodded. "Well, now that you say that, this thing sounds a whole lot better. I still think I should talk this over with my wife first." The man replied. "No no, wouldn't it be best to surprise her with the good news instead? Think about it, you, walking into your house and telling your wife that you two will finally be able to leave this bland countryside?" Xander inquired. "You know what, you're right, that does sound nice. So where do I sign again?"

Xander sat back in his chair with a large smile on his face as the man slowly signed his life away. As soon as he put the quill down, Xander reached across and snatched up the documents and filed them away. Handing the man a copy to hold onto and shaking the man's hand he sent him on his way. It was then when a burly man walked in. "Boss, you got an appointment with the queen in under an hour. We should get going, sir." Xander sighed. Of course. He had forgotten all about her majesty's order. Not wanting to disappoint royal, he nodded. "Ah yes, right. Well, we best be on our way then."
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Xander sat impatiently, tapping his fingers on the nice mahogany table. This was not what he had in mind when the queen asked for his audience. Before him sat four strange looking commoners held against there will, and that creep, Osric by her majesty's side, as always. Although, he didn't understand why she would talk to them in such a manner. She could clearly force them to go to the enemy, they were n no position to say no. And he still didn't understand why he was there. Of what use would he be to an adventure such as this?

Still, there was good money to be made there. Hopefully the queen's research was right and these few weren't as useless as they seemed to be on the outside.

 

[NekoQueen49]

Fortune glared at the woman who answered her first. She decided that she didn't like her. While Fortune wasn't like the rest of her pack in their heightened senses, even she could feel there was something off with the woman. Her skin was a shade too pale, her hair color was the same as blood. It sent a shiver down the wild woman's spine but her slight fear wasn't enough to make her stand down. However, Fortune didn't answer as the other people in the room began to speak.

She listened to the man, calming only slightly. "Well, I'm sorry that getting attacked and being put in a strange room isn't giving me the warm fuzzies," she growled before scoffing. These walls around her were suffocating her and it was hard to think straight. The feeling only made her feel more irritable. Fortune shifted in her seat, wanting to bolt from the room. The only reason she didn't was because of the last memory she had. No doubt any attempt on running would only end in pain.

Fortune missed Beardsley and the others. In the back of her mind she worried about them after she called them what she thought might have been last night. She had a feeling that it didn't end well if she was here instead of back home.

It was when the woman across from Fortune began to speak that she actually began to calm down. Maybe it was something about her, or her voice, but it immediately set her at ease. Frankly, Fortune had no idea that war was raging. She was too far away from the human world to care that much. It begged the question how they thought that she was a candidate for something like this. Why she was considered in the first place, really. Fortune hadn't committed any crimes (that she was aware of) so was she free to refuse? She pursed her lips as she mulled it over. Even if she tried, Fortune doubted it would end well. But would accepting be any different? It sounded dangerous but... Fortune didn't really mind the prospect of danger. Just harm coming to her precious forest. This human war might come to close to home if she chose to ignore it. "I'll accept if means that me and my... home will be left in peace afterward. In fact, I don't even care what happens to me, just so long as my friends are okay," Fortune answered.
Ms. Sparrow KStrausser Shog (and everyone else)

 

[marshmarrow]

Saxon's vision swam as she was pulled from unconsciousness, and she blinked, seeing cold brick around her instead of the walls of her bedchamber. We can blockade the enemy fleet, she thought dazedly, realizing she had fallen asleep at her maps in the study. But instead of finding herself among her books, she sat at a grand table, with the low murmur of voices in her ears.

Coming fully awake, her gaze flashed from one person to the next, counting three women and three men fully conscious, plus the Queen herself. On the second and third lines of defense, Saxon was used to coming into contact with commanders with connections in the royal family, but this was the first time she had seen the Crown in person. Since she was already sitting, she did not curtsy, but she felt uncomfortable being addressed by the Queen so informally.

She remained perfectly silent, but her eyes narrowed as the Queen spoke, detailing their mission. By the time the monologue was over, the strategist within Saxon had already carefully weighed the implications of both decisions and wondered why the queens in fairy tales are never given names.

"--So what do you say?"

Ellery Saxon, always a smart woman, often chose not to say anything at all when in the presence of her superiors. However, she could not mistake the note of desperation in the woman's voice, and the strategist realized the Crown was being sincere. This was not the Queen's decision alone, she realized. There would be no point to shoot the messenger. However, she could not help the hint of contempt that crept into her voice.

"Your Majesty," Saxon started, trying to wrap her tongue around Thuran syllables and succeeding fairly well, "Am I to understand we--" she gestured around the table, "--Are expected to single-handedly cripple a nation's entire militia?"

She arched an eyebrow, propriety be damned, she thought. She would not be a pawn in Thura's cloak-and-dagger game.

 

[Shog]

"No, that would be absurd," the Queen replied. "If it were that simple the war would be done with by now. What we need is for you to remove key players in this war. My husband always explains simple war tactics to me with chess, so let's see if the analogy still works. Your typical soldiers are the pawns and the commanding officers right up to the Ragorian royalty are the rooks, knights, bishops, king, and queen. Should the more powerful players, hiding safely behind their wall of pawns, be removed the battle is down to defeating hoards of pawns. A much simpler task. I guess in this analogy you all would be a rogue a rogue gust of wind toppling the pieces or something. Clearly I've taken that too far, but I believe you all have what it takes.

"You, Ellery Saxon, are to guide them in tactics. Xander has an excuse to go to Ragor and can act as your "face." Fortune is unnaturally in tune with nature, specially animals, and can help keep everyone safe during any off-road travels. Eldritch here is an enchanter and can retrieve information from the enemy's mind better than anyone else in this country. Melissa and Nathan, who has yet to wake, have wide skill sets that can offer aid in just about any situation. Melissa is more noted for her skills with magic and combat. Sadima is a necromancer, which can be helpful in a pinch. Lastly, Orsic here is skilled in the art of stealth and misdirection and has faithfully aided me for countless moons. You all have a place in this mission. Further details will be offered to those who accept." As she spoke, she gestured to each individual upon calling their name.

marshmarrow NekoQueen49 Moolock Blaire Wisteria KStrausser Ms. Sparrow Sizniche

 

[Ms. Sparrow]

Sadima ignored the rest of the inhabitants in the room, her head resting on the table in a position that made it impossible to see her face. She felt a brief wave of calmness wash over her, though it had little effect. She hadn't been scared before whatsoever. She had fully prepared herself to die and was fine with it, but she wondered whom touched her mind as such.

It would've been better then the Queen's proposal.

Sadima fully prepared herself to leave as the queen said they could leave if they wanted, and had just began to stand when she said any of those that created crimes against the kingdom would be escorted to the dungeon, and with those words Sadima plopped right back into the seat.

She paused as the Queen put her offer on the table. She had killed before. One too many times to feel remorse at this point. Killing a few more to win a war would be nothing. It'd help her pickings as a thief if the economy was better. Or maybe after this she wouldn't need to steal.

Sadima let out an audible breath, fixiating her bright gold eyes on the Queen, "Fine. I haven't killed anyone in - too long." She said, as if disappointed with herself, a slight smirk on her face.

"You said earlier that Thura would know us as hero's. If we somehow miraculously pull this off, and we aren't strewn corpses in the middle of nowhere, know this;" Sadima's tone was dark, and her eyes devoid of emotion. "Know that they will not know me. When this is over, nobody will whisper my name. I won't be one of its hero's."

Shog (everyone else)

 

[KStrausser]

As the Queen continued, Osric's eyes never left the rest of the table, scanning the room as she called out their names. The tactician he could deal with and frankly, almost admired. He had never liked Xander - the man's smug, judging demeanor had always rubbed Osric the wrong way. The wild-woman's friends? What was her stake in this? Yet his face only visibly darkened at the mention of the Enchanter and the realization of what his flashing eyes meant. Melissa was two more swords in a fight, and he had known of and seen far uglier things than Sadima's necromancy. No, his problem would not be with them.

He found himself eyeing Eldritch cautiously. Osric was rather fond of his secrets; he was not so fond of them being forcibly torn from his psyche on a whim.

Yet, the Crown demanded his service, and he was duty-bound to provide. Common soldiers may question their own loyalty, but he was a sworn agent of the throne of Thura. "Of course, your majesty" His reply came simply, without sarcasm nor uncertainty amidst the growing voices, though he could not help a quiet sigh. Did Lady Tolvere intend for him to "babysit" them all? Assure that all their many selfish motivations stayed aligned? It was not a prospect he looked forward to. In service of the crown. Gods help me. Osric kept an amicable facade, though he suspected at least one of them could sense his apprehension regardless.

He scoffed. Sadima had little to worry about. Cloak and dagger work was rarely ever heroic, or pretty, or in this instance: pleasant.

Shog NekoQueen49 Blaire Wisteria Sizniche Ms. Sparrow marshmarrow Moolock

 

[Moolock]

Mel Da'Ran

Mel listened carefully as the conversation jumped around the table, though her thoughts kept returning to what the Queen said, her work and connections from that, and she made note of each face as their names and skills were given. "As amazing as it sounds to aid the country," she glanced to Sadima and gave a nod, "I agree with her. I don't want to be anyone's hero. Limelight isn't as great a reward as you think, Your Grace. For a couple of us, your reward would be our ruin." Hero wouldn't win her anything for work after this, if she managed to survive. Throwing around hero would only get her more trouble than joy. Unless this hero deal came with money and assurance she could return to how things were before, she wouldn't bite.

With a little sigh, Mel leaned forward to rest her elbows on the table, crossing one leg over the other. She bore little reverence but the bare I'm not here to die/ attitude. "I speak for no one else but I would like, for this suicide mission, a simple reward that I'm amazed you didn't bother bring up. You are a royal, your friends are rich, surely there could be a little... compensation. My swords are bought by gold, Your Grace, and if we don't die, it would be an I'm sure glorious waste of my time for nothing to come of this." She tilted her head, a small smirk growing. "I'm sure saving the nation will feel amazing and all but I'm sure you can understand how great it would be to not return to an ale-drenched tavern room after all this, if we live."

Taking this job- and shaped up to be a country-saving quest, it was still a job- could mean the end of her line of work. Titles and a name in the history books would lose most of her business. If the queen could make up for the money she would lose, that would make the situation much nicer, especially taking into account how many would cry she betrayed them. Thieves and anonymous clients who wanted things done quietly would never hire a hero.

Her statement made and falling quiet to let everyone else speak, Mel leaned back in the seat and folded her arms over her chest with a cool, level gaze at the queen, quickly to her two companions, then back to her. Things tumbling through her mind, her thoughts roved to her swords, the keepsake one in particular. The Da'Rolo house sword. Supposedly an instrument of great power when activated by the right person and it was probably sitting in a weapons locker somewhere until they were dismissed. Or was it being analyzed by some mage to determine if the seal could be broken, its powers released to anyone? Her gaze hardened at the thought. Did the Queen know Mel was a Da'Rolo? Would her family be contacted? Their long-lost daughter returned, how wonderful that would be. Mother and Father would be so disappointed. She sighed and broke gaze with the queen, rubbing her temples as her steady frown twisted into a scowl as a migraine rippled in her head. She need coffee, soon, or at least to cast out some of the stress in a firebolt or something violent.

Hands under the table, Mel moved as if to rub at something against her skirt and from the folds of it plucked a pebble-sized stone bead sewn into the fabric. Verbal and somatics were too obvious in such close quarters and no doubt the guards were instructed to disable anyone attempting to cast magic in the room. With a wince, Mel crushed the cracked stone between her fingers, hands still out of sight, and the migraine withdrew as a ripple of warmth, weak without the other gestures to strengthen the spell but helpful nonetheless, flickered through her. She kept an icy gaze but the pain in her head was gone.


@ everyone

 

[Sizniche]

Earlier that day...

Nathaniel sat atop a tower above the portcullis of Aldun's west gate, thinking to himself as he watched the sunset. The sun fading behind the horizon still managed to impress him to this day, and he hadn't missed watching the sunset in years. As he watched the sunset, he momentarily directed his eyes towards the lands of Ragor. He had seen much of what Thura had to offer, from the fields and the farms of the countryside to the boundless energy of the gem of Thura itself, which he was currently visiting. For a while, he'd thought it was about time for a change in scenery, and, had it not been for the war, he would have long since gone, especially since hearing of the new technologies to arise from Ragor. He almost couldn't believe the concept of a pipe spewing flaming metal at a target; it was something he had to see for himself. He certainly couldn't replicate it.

That was when he felt the prick in his neck, and drifted from consciousness as he almost fell from the tower, only to be grabbed around the waist by a pair of arms and dragged backwards.

Now...

Unbeknownst to the group, save for the enchanter who probably sensed his brain activity when he woke, Nathaniel had been awake for most of the meeting. A long time ago, after the first few months of sleeping outdoors, he learned to wake up without opening his eyes; you see, when looters startle you awake, they'll usually panic and either immediately try and slit your throat or knock you unconscious. At first, he only did the trick when he was awakened suddenly. Now, he does it as a force of habit.

Nathaniel opened his eyes and reacted to the woman who just spoke up, who, despite not seeing anyone until now, he was able to conclude was Mel. "Well, I couldn't agree more with that sentiment," he said. He honestly didn't; the opportunity to travel to Ragor was honestly enough to entice him. However, if Mel planned to negotiate, having someone else in the group shy away would weaken her bargaining chip. Besides, if he could get a ship out of this arrangement, or at least the funds to get partway there, so that he could finally travel the seas and oceans, he figured he might as well play along. He just had to hope the enchanter wasn't a rat. "So, how do you plan to compensate us?"

Moolock Shog @allotherrelevantparties

 

[Shog]

The Queen was, quite frankly, shocked. Mostly at how well this was going. She was expecting more conflict and straight up refusal. But she was also shocked that her message wasn't as clear as she intended. "Tell me, what do you think I meant by "exceptional hero benefits?" Sure, there'd be a title and the fame and glory, but you'd be granted a mansion with a large plot of land and a large sum of riches. Now, should you want to forfeit or exchange your reward that is perfectly acceptable, but that can be discussed to a greater extent when you return. And don't worry, it's not like we'd publicize your mission, so no one will know what you'll be doing."

With everyone fully in the conversation now, Eldritch finally spoke up. "Well I'm in. This war will affect us all, so stop being so consumed with what you think you can squeeze out of the crown in exchange for your help and realize you benefit from accepting this quest as much as they do."

 

[Moolock]

Mel Da'Ran

"Can do without the fame and glory bit, money and land somewhere quiet is good enough for me. As I said, can't speak for anyone else but... not having to do this sort of thing ever again would be most agreeable." Mel's gaze narrowed as it flicked to the enchanter. Up until this point, she had only had the misfortune of meeting one once. She'd hoped her luck would be good enough to not repeat such a meeting. "Look here, mind-bender, there are plenty of ways to get away from the war. I don't know what your talents get you but mine here get me money for food and room. More dangerous the job, the better the food and the nicer the room. Crown or crime, still a client."

She folded her arms, wondering what swirled in the depths of the enchanter's mind, just how much he knew and what he might already know of her. The thought gave her a shiver. Mel made a note to invest in a charm that would let her know whenever foreign magic was being cast on her, it could help if she was to spend nights on a mission with him. Even if she were aware, what could she do? To him, her spells were probably tricks and child's play at best. With a quick word in prayer, the woman begged fate would not bring her against him, for she would surely fall. She rather liked her position- not where they were but the chair she was in. A chair like this was probably worth a hand or two. Her logistical position was currently a nightmare. Again, she felt a tug of longing for her weapons. ... And not once through her musing did she make direct eye contact with the enchanter. Precautions.

"I guess... I'm in," she scowled, "since Her Grace asked so nicely... Your Grace, you have my swords on the promise that nothing has touched the large one in the time since being brought here." Mel's voice dropped to an icy tone. "If that sword is returned to me upon setting out and I find it has been tampered with, examined, I rescind my participation." For such a private woman, she was actually quite simple. She only kept three goals in life: Earn money, don't die, protect the sword.


@ everyone

 

[marshmarrow]

Saxon listened quietly, the muscles in her jaw tightening as each person spoke. Her eyes focused on some distant point on the floor, but their blueness blazed and her nostrils flared faintly. Her cheeks were flushed angrily, her blush slowly creeping downwards to her neck.

She stayed like this for a moment, frozen, before she rose from her seat abruptly, the tips of her fingers white as she pressed them against the surface of the table. She visibly relaxed her tensely drawn shoulders, the redness of her face faded as quickly as it had appeared, her expression now betraying nothing.

"If your husband were to find out about our escapade, just whose side would you be on... Your Majesty?" Her tone was soft, but that did not subtract from its intensity. She guarded herself closely, like a snake coiling before it would strike. "Disobedience to the King is high treason. He would have us executed, you put away into a convent and dismissed only as a hysteric," she continued slowly, venomously, her gaze locking with the Queen's. In spite of the arctic contempt evident in her voice, she almost seemed amused.

She drew a breath sharply, a soft but hissing sibilance. She turned to face Eldritch, then Nathaniel and Mel with a frighteningly cold glare. "There will be no glory to be earned from this. Her plan to sneak into Ragor like rats is only proof Thura will lose more than this war if we continue. Have you forgotten their technology? They will have us killed before we set a foot beyond the capital gates. This is a crime against the Crown, a waste of resources, and your Queen is a fool if she thinks she can fight this war like a game of chess."

"Voice of the Forthright." || Thoughts of the Intuitive
Moolock , Shog , Sizniche , @others​

 

[Shog]

The Queen remained calm. This was more the reaction she was expecting as a whole. "I've worked out plenty of technicalities on the matter. Bringing you all together was designed as a last ditch effort as a whole, and was only discussed with a handful of people. The only records on the matter are your individual files, therefor my husband has not made an official decree banning this gathering. And even if he had, you all would be protected as you would have no prior knowledge of this plot and would simply be following orders. While I may not be quite as powerful as my husband, being Queen grants me many benefits. Still, you make excellent points. It is no secret that I am no master strategist nor have I ever lead more than a small squadron. This is far from a well ironed plan and I had hoped you would be able to make up for my shortcomings. Had we had more forewarning we may have invited you all of your own free will to begin training and allow you all to bond beforehand, but this was not a luxury we were afforded. I will emphasize this point again: this is a last ditch effort and not a decision I made lightly. If you wish to compare this to rats then by all means, but just remember a single rat can bear a plague to wipe out the most powerful of people. Lastly, Thura can lose nothing more if we lose the war. Intelligence reports that Ragor intends to wipe out our very culture. The only ones who shall be permitted to live will be the simplest of common folk. The ones who make the foundation of society. Should you believe that your honor, a vague term defined only by those in power, is more important to you than the continuation of our culture then you may walk out that door. Just remember that honor carries much less weight in Ragorian culture."

Eldritch was actually kind of amused by the two girls reactions. It just showed how differently they all viewed life. Saxon, as he sensed Ellery sensed to be called, seemed concerned with her honor while the girl that spoke before here openly admitted to working for paying criminals. He himself had been in enough minds to know that honor was too abstract to be uniform. Many simply used it as a way to justify killing another human being. He looked dead at Mel, noting her deliberately avoiding eye contact, and spoke. "My talents have never gotten me anything quite as nice without forcing weaker minds to aid me. Mostly I receive fear, distrust, and sometimes outright anger whenever someone learns of my skills. You need only to look around the room to confirm this. And your swords remain unharmed. As a general rule I try to avoid reading the minds of my allies, but your psyche is shouting two things: you have so little trust in me that one of your biggest concerns in the upcoming weeks is me, and your concern over your family's great-sword. A word of advise: I pick up surface-level thoughts whether I desire them or not. If you ever think anything just imagine blocking it off from the world and that usually helps."

 

[NekoQueen49]

Fortune glanced at the woman the people referred to as the Queen when she called her name. She wasn't quite so far removed from society to not know and recognize the concept of royalty. She pursed her lips and remained quiet though, taking in the arguments made against the Queen's request. A crime against the Crown? How could it have been if it were the Queen issuing the orders? Fortune's eyebrows furrowed, not understanding the argument. Still, politics were never her area of expertise, even when she was in touch with the human world. As such she kept silent lest her ignorance on the subject be shown.

However, the attention another man claiming to be able to read minds, astounded her. Was that actually possible? Fortune had never heard of such a thing. The wild woman turned her wide eyed gaze onto him. So he could hear each and every one of their thoughts? She imagined that would be very... overwhelming. Like everyone talking at once. If that was the case, then it was probably hard to 'hear' and understand singular person's thought. Even so, Fortune tried to close off her mind just in case. Which just meant trying to think of unimportant things. She failed in her task and only gave herself a headache.

 

[Sizniche]

Nathaniel listened carefully to to the group. A few minutes into the meeting and conflict was in the air; this was certainly not a good sign. It was at times like this he still wished he had his smoking pipe, so he could let the tobacco calm him. However, the habit got too expensive for him, and roughly a year ago he traded the pipe for a hot meal. But, I digress. While Nathaniel wasn't normally the one to get into stressful situations—with his life usually being almost entirely carefree—he knew how to weather stress well enough. A conversation wasn't going to panic him, that's for sure. So, in a calm demeanor, almost as if he were simply in a typical conversation, he spoke to the group, starting with the person he determined was Ellery.

"Ah, but Ellery, will technology alone win a war?" Nathaniel said, leaning back in his seat, "After all, battles are won with fists, but, in the end, wars are won with wits, and it seems that's what the Queen intends to do. It might behoove us to consider her plan before shooting it down. That is, unless you yourself have a master plan to take on the Ragorian army that Ragor's king, queen, court advisors, generals, commanders, nobles, merchants, and other public figures haven't already prepared for?"

Nathaniel then directed his attention to Eldritch. "Well, I'm certainly glad to have you on our side, but knowing what you've just said, I doubt I'll sleep well until this is all over."

Shog marshmarrow

 

[marshmarrow]

Saxon stared back at the Queen impassively, and informed her, "You did not answer my question, Your Grace. If you think I am wrong, say so, but do not act as if what I say is too foolish to even acknowledge. I asked if you are willing to risk your assets for this mission, if times are as desperate as you say they are."

Not waiting for a response--there was nothing Saxon hated more than repeating herself--she pressed her lips together in a thin line as she took her seat and faced Nathaniel, smoothing her skirt and regaining her composure. There were many other things to consider in the Queen's proposal, but Saxon had tired of bickering.

"Saxon," she corrected perfunctorily and as an offhand greeting. "I understand we are in a grave situation, but we must consider the most plausible and rational outcomes. It is very unlikely all of us will return home, and I do not wish to have any blood spilled that could have been avoided, if only we had all payed attention," she stated, her rhythmic accent lilting her vowels and rounding the consonants.

She gave an exasperated sigh, flicking a fiery lock of hair behind her ear. "No, I do not have a greater plan, but the success of this mission will be my first priority. Perhaps that is where you had misunderstood me. You are dense to question if I value the benefit of acumen in this operation, but we cannot discount Ragor's advantage. Luck should never take precedence over skill, and I would never expect my soldiers to go into a battle without myself being certain of the outcome."

"Voice of the Forthright." || Thoughts of the Astute
Shog , Sizniche
​

 

[Moolock]

Mel Da'Ran

The woman's scowl returned as the enchanter spoke aloud, calling out her unspoken questions and worries. Thank you ever so much for laying that on the table, she mentally sneered. If he heard it, all the better. She shifted in her seat, still glancing around with a barely noticeable blue of the arcane in her already naturally crystalline irises. She gave herself another little boost to stay off the headache, the dull pain that constantly plagued her, and glanced over to Saxon. "Good thing we're not your soldiers," Mel chuckled, flashing her a little grin. It faded quickly. "As much as I find this entire business unfavorable, if we refuse to take any risks, we will accomplish nothing. It is outside our power as mortal beings to control the excess variables. I don't have a death wish and I don't wish for anyone else here to die before their time but good Saxon, would it not be better to risk a small rag-tag bunch like ourselves rather than to slam the King's army against the Ragorian advancements?"

marshmarrow

 

[Shog]

"Pardon me," the Queen said, realizing she had indeed not actually answered the question. "In an effort to avoid further confusion I will attempt to be as clear as possible. I am willing to risk everything if I believe it will help save this country, and that includes my assets. I already have several moles burrowed deep into Ragor, though many have gone quiet. I know some of you may never return. I could not blame any of you should you decide to bail part-way through. As Mel so elegantly pointed out, none of you are trained soldiers and I cannot expect you act like one. On the other hand, you can never be certain of the outcome. You of all people should know how to account for unknown variables. Battles have been won on the whim of the changing wind. And that is not a metaphor. But any who accept are aware of the possible consequences. Even if you cannot expect them to enter battle with an uncertain outcome, that does not mean they will not charge in anyway. All in all, we need to take risks in order to succeed."

Eldritch heard Mel's thought loud and clear. He knew she wouldn't like the announcement, but it would have become pretty obvious to everyone regardless so he figured it would be a nice introduction to his abilities. He was also in the habit of announcing what was on his mind. He found it put the others more at ease to know his thoughts were just as accessible as theirs were to him. Not that he ever expected them to relax. That almost never happened. "Truth be told, a sleeping mind is surprisingly difficult to infiltrate," Eldritch said, turning his attention to Nathan. "The subconscious is quite vicious. I can see your dreams, but they appear a jumbled mess to me. Some enchanters dedicate their lives to dream interpretation, but it's not my thing."