Fantasy Penance Behind the Veil

[Coin]

PENANCE BEHIND THE VEIL

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"These eyes have seen, Prince," The oracle spoke, unwavering.


Ceril sprung from his seat and slammed his open palms onto the table before him, "You know what's behind the Veil? Tell me, old man, tell me now!"


Unmoved by the Prince's outburst, the wizened man grumbled in retort, "Fool. These eyes have seen your demise, bastard of the Ambryn throne. I see the ambition in your eyes, the flames in your heart, but the Veil will swallow the pith of your existence. You will never ascend the throne if you pass into the Veil. You will bring nothing but dissent and sorrow to you and your compatriots."


"I will not concede on mere prophecy, old man," Ceril shook his head and turned to leave. "I will return from the Veil."


Ceril whisked away from the oracle's room, cloak trailing in tow and clicked the door shut behind him.


"You will return on a bed of roses."

 

[Coin]

KINGDOM OF REGALIS -- OUTSKIRTS OF ASHLOW, TWO MILES FROM THE VEIL

Spoiler

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PRINCE CERIL


THE STEADY sound of hooves trodding along the compacted soil and the rush of mid-autumn wind in Prince Ceril's face served to calm the Prince's mounting nerves. An off glance to his flank, and he would see Aleida riding beside him and suddenly the Veil, the disappearances and the whole expedition would have been forgotten by him. Once more would the two riders just be young adults escaping from their nobility and exploring the wilds together. However, one glance behind him and he would be met by the sight of a pair of armored knights on horseback and two royal wagons driven by one of the knight's squires and Aleida's handmaiden. The façade Ceril had created in his head would crumble away as reality took precedence over humble fantasy. With an outward sigh, he pressed onward and into the small hamlet known as Ashlow.


A lone man, not even dressed in royal colors, sounded a horn to signal the arrival of the Prince's royal caravan. He and his knights had made good time and they had made it there just before noon and before the other caravan of auxiliary soldiers and servants had arrived. As the riders entered the hamlet of no more than thirty or forty inhabitants, the local citizenry began to trickle from their clay and straw houses to investigate the commotion. Ceril lead his caravan to the center of Ashlow, a murmuring crowd trailing not too far behind.


Once Ceril had found a satisfactory place to halt his steed, he directed his voice to the denizens of the land, "Good morrow, loyal subjects, I am Prince Ceril the First of the Ambryn Throne. My knights and I have sought your humble settlement as our rally point for our expedition into the Veil. As soon as my supplemental troops arrive, we will all be on our way and you all shall be at ease once more. The crown thanks you for your cooperation. Long live Regalis."


Ceril's short speech certainly elicited a response from the peasants as their murmurs turned into excited chatter and gossip. These poor folks were the ones who didn't have enough coin to move away from Ashlow. The luckier ones moved as far inward and away from the Veil as possible, The rest, doomed be known as the closest friendly settlement to the menacing fog that had overtaken the land.


Only minutes later, did the roll of creaking wheels and the trod of a pair of workhorses fill the streets, signaling the arrival of the wagon filled auxiliary troops and servants from the capital, Valemaceria. Once they were in earshot, the Prince ordered the wagon to stop and the men and women in the back to pile out so he could take head count. As soon as all twenty men and women were accounted for, he would begin the obligatory briefing of their mission.


The Prince turned to his horse to his subordinates while the regulars were exiting the wagon and tying down the horses and mules, "Aleida? Would you kindly see what provisions the capital have provided us for our journey? Lady Edina, Sir Alexander? Perhaps you should take this time to inspect our troops -- they will be under your command this venture."


((@BeyondPoetry, @Swimswamswom, @Honey Bee, @korigon))

 

[Pequeno Burraidh]

Konoha walked easily amongst the crowds, cowled in crudely and quickly stitched together burlaps sacks in the form of a cloak and cowl. It wasn't the most comfortable garment, but it hid well her white clothes and general appearance, something that she greatly needed in a land filled with such round eyed people. She largely kept to the far back away from the path that was being carved by her master and his followers.


Every now and again, through the shifting masses, she would catch view of her master, high upon his steed Ohry. It was good to know that the people did not feel ill will towards her master, and instead felt joy and cheered heartily at the sight of him. It brought a flicker of a smile to her usually stoic face to see him so loved by the people. He was, after all, quite apart from other royals. He'd never lusted after the throne as if it were a pair of easily spread legs to a eager woman, and because of it he was far kinder towards those of lower ranking. He was quite like Maximus in that fact, actually, something that she admired in the prince.


Still, he was a prince and her master, and she was gravely and blatantly breaking the orders that had been laid on her when Master Prince Ceril had set out. He had told her to stay when he had caught her packing. Told her he would not need a handmaiden or servant where he was going, and informed her she was to stay at the castle and look after the other servants and keep his castle affairs in order. It was, of course, a more than adequate honour for any servant to be put in such a high position, but it was a request she could not abide by. She would welcome his punishment when he spoke it, as she was not undeserving for breaking her vows.


True, she was honour bound to follow her master's orders, but would that honour not be sullied if she was left without a master to have return? Not when she could lay her life down to ensure that there would be her master returning to the castle.


No, should would have to defy her masters short term orders in favour of ensuring he would be able to return to his position, and fate will it, give her further orders should she return as well. It was her ethic and honour that drove her, a hard days work for a honest hours rest was what she strove for. Grip tightening on her staff as she walked past a particularly starry eyed young girl that seemed to momentarily forget her position and grab Konoha's sleeve tightly.


"Isn't Prince Ceril amazing?! He's come to save all of us! He's going to be a hero!"


Giving a slight nod of assent Konoha agreed, "He will be hero, yes. Master Prince Ceril will go, and will return, I will be sure of it."


The girl didn't give a second of thought to Konoha's words, but that was fine, and as the svelte woman continued, she eventually found herself an out of the way spot under an awning and withdrew a skein of water to sip as she watched Master Prince Ceril from a distance, eyes hidden under a burlap hood constantly scanning the crowds for any that might act untoward her master.

 

[Effervescent]

Sir Alexander Vallane

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It had been a quiet journey to Ashlow, and left Alexander to his typical contemplations before a mission. An expedition into the Veil; into the very unknown. It was a daunting task, and one that he may very well never return from. He wouldn't mind the sacrifice so much if he knew he could make a difference and save at least the rest of the kingdom from the looming fog. He cast his dark eyes to Prince Ceril's back as he led their caravan down the road. The prince, for whatever reason, looked back towards him, and he offered a calm nod before looking away towards the ominous Veil that lay thickly on the land. Alexander also wouldn't mind this possible sacrifice if it was just himself on the mission. Having so many lives to be concerned over, both within the expedition and the citizens of the land, set the knight at unease. His prince was wise in his decision to have so many able bodied volunteers, for this was no job for just one man. The burden already began to weigh heavy on his heart.


So too did the burden of the past. It had been nearly a decade or longer since he'd seen Lady Edina, and the unresolved dissonance between them churned in Alexander's mind. His brow furrowed as he purposefully avoided looking in the woman's direction, his expression set to a brood as he mulled over possible reasons as to why she would ever lay down her life for the people of this kingdom when she had her precious house to look after.


The simple houses of Ashlow provided brief reprieve to Alexander's mind. While his expression only minutely softened, he felt admiration for the people of Ashlow. Their clay houses were built by their own hands. They labored and toiled through the muck to build a home for themselves, and thatched their own roofs from straw, continuing their maintenance on their own to insure dry and comfortable nights. Their lives were constantly surviving odds in poverty and so far away from trade routes and travelers for the occasional possibility of income. And now to add to their hardships, the Veil loomed close to their homes. The people of Ashlow were brave and commendable in Alexander's mind. He was proud to aid them in this time of need, and wondered how he could further help them once the threat of the Veil subsided.


Alexander dismounted from his steed, Escovet, his plated armor and chainmail clacking as he settled his weight upon the earth. He sunk a little into the moist dirt of the road that had been moved about by their caravan. Patting the friesian's neck, he nodded at Prince Ceril's orders and walked over to the auxiliary wagon to inspect the troops that would be under his and Lady Edina's command. A few had already filed into a line for inspection, their stances rigid while he walked over to them in thought. Those who would file within the line of inspection would face out to look upon the Veil. It was fitting, and he quietly went down the line to inspect those who accepted the prince's call to aid.


@Swimswamswom

 

[korigon]

Kepheus Kerberos

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Ever since he had celebrated, albeit poorly, his fortieth day of birth, Kepheus had been struck by a desire for constant silence. He could remember the screams and cries from every battle, every loud crack emanating from the sound of metal against metal. Whats more, he had began hearing a quiet ringing in the back of his head for several months now. It followed him everywhere, even when Kepheus resided in his dreams. The noise interfered with his concentration, and seemed to only provide him with more annoyances. His excitement on joining the expedition had quickly faded, and the knowledge that he would be riding in a wagon served to dampen his spirits even further.


To his amazement, the wagon proved more comfortable than his previous bunk. The ringing subsided, and there was plenty of room for Kepheus' tall frame. In fact, Kepheus desired to simply stay in the wagon instead of leaving to face the unknown. Here was safety, where he could stretch contentedly across the gnarled wooden boards. He was terrified of the looming, black wall, and truthfully felt as though he were a small bee attempting to defend a nest from a bear. No scouts had returned from the Veil, and Kepheus did not fancy what could lurk inside the dark barrier.


Yet Kepheus was a veteran soldier, all too well accustomed to the anxiety before a battle. He stamped out the fear efficiently, and hoped that he would discover a flask filled with booze in Ashlow. It was a hope, and nothing else, but what else could he hope for? Peace? Quiet? Unlikely as the chance of surviving what lay beyond the Veil.





With a turn, he realized the wagon had stopped. Kepheus made his way out first, eyeing his surroundings with bored look in his eyes. On the ground, his boots made obvious tracks in the soft dirt, reminding of Kepheus of his family farm. His eyes fell upon the two knights, and the look of disinterest was replaced with a curious gleam. Eyes the color of the ocean flickered back and forth between the pair, finally resting on Sir Vallane as the knight approached. With tight lips and a straightened back, Kepheus waited for whatever orders the man would give him.

 

[Poe]

Aleida Gregory



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They had not spoken for nearly the entire journey to Ashlow, but there was nothing save for serenity on Aleida’s features as they rode against the autumn wind. The goodbye had been hard enough and deep in her bones she could still feel the way her mother clung to her much in the same way Aleida had clung to her father’s leg as a young girl. It was desperation, it was fear, but they both knew Aleida had made up her mind and when that occurred, nothing come hell or high-water would make her waiver or second-guess. This was Ceril’s expedition, yes, but there was a part of Aleida that needed answers, or perhaps even more questions, but regardless of what she found — it would be more than she knew before.


After all, she’d imagined the veil much like a child would a dream — not quite real. It was only when they were upon Ashlow and the fog had come fully into view did Aleida feel a slight constriction in her lungs. All the stories she had heard throughout the castle had likened the veil to a nightmare, a lingering omen, and while she put no merit in silly tales — this was different. Immediately she felt her senses heighten, the hair on the back of her neck stand on end, and something in the pit of her stomach churned. It was right before noon, but there was not much of a sun in the sky, and instead the world seemed blanketed in the dismal resonance of the fog.


But, per usual, Ceril’s voice broke Aleida out of her own thoughts. “Yeah, why not,” she shrugged with a bit of a smirk before running a hand through Rowan’s mane. The steed seemed uncertain about their proximity to the fog, but Aleida eased what tension she could before making a move to dismount herself. Almost immediately, a young man hurried towards her side to help her down, clothes tattered but eyes wide and kind. Though she did not need it, Aleida allowed him to aid her and returned his kindness with a soft smile of her own. “Thank you,” she nodded, the man staying silent but bowing his head deeply at the beautiful noblewoman before him. “It’s been quite some time since I’ve been in the company of a gentleman,” Aleida shot playfully in Ceril’s direction but there was no malice in her voice.


After all, they’d been by each other’s side for far too long to expect any kind of formalities.


Aleida made her way slowly to the wagon full of the provisions provided by the capital. Her boots sunk slightly into the mud that had been kicked up by the travelers and the moisture that hung low in the air. The auxiliary was arriving as she moved through the entourage, nodding in respect as she went. It took quite a bit of bravery to ride into such an unknown, and though Aleida was bound by her unwavering loyalty to Ceril to stay by his side no matter what the danger, she respected those who chose this path. Nothing could be guaranteed and that was a heavy burden to carry.


When she made her way back towards Ceril, her arms were crossed against her chest and brow furrowed a bit at the information she had gathered. “We have enough provisions for two, maybe three, weeks depending on how we ration them,” she explained as she stood by his horse, hand on Ohry’s neck as she spoke upwards towards the prince.

 

[Chordling]

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[Elle Joyner]

Arabella Dane

The call for service had come a week prior. The man, a squire, had come in search of volunteers, an expedition both dangerous and elusive, to seek answers regarding the appearance of the fog in the West and the great mysteries behind it.To all intents and purposes, it seemed a reckless mission, one sure to end in the uttermost tragedy. It was a fools quest, and one had to be mad to take on the venture. Arabella Dane was neither a fool, nor mad, but she was also one of the very few servants within Valemaceria with no family to care or provide for.Certainly, she was the only one whose father had given her the necessary training to make herself useful among the noble men and women to whom the quest was given. And so, to honor her prince and the people of Regalis, Arabella answered the call.


The journey was made via caravan, a rickety wagon pulled by young, sturdy colts - great brutish horses, thrice the power of her own bedraggled nag. Amaryllis remained behind in Valemaceria under the careful watch of a boy named Thom - once her father’s apprentice. Thom would care for the horse as if she were his own, and Arabella could ask for no better. Sentimental and trite as it might appear, Amaryllis was all she had left of her family and Thom knew better than most what that meant to Merry Dane’s daughter.


The ride to Ashlow was a quiet one, she and her other compatriots preoccupied by their thoughts or catching up on rest. For Arabella, it was a chance to study those with whom she would inevitably spend the next several week. From her position on the floor of the carriage, Arabella was closest to the young woman adjacent to her. The woman appeared a living flame, violently red and shining, her face a starscape of freckles, eyes like a lion - golden and wise - closed, for a time, but no doubt fierce to behold. Beside this woman sat one, more beast than man, a great and primitive warrior, and on his right, a towering figure, older and balding, but nevertheless impressive. Also in her carriage was a girl not much older than Arabella, another servant from the looks of her, and a young man, a squire from the eager, riveted look of him.


Altogether, there were ten of them, and ten more still in the carriage that followed behind. It was no small faction, but then, she imagined they might need whatever advantage they could find in so unnerving a condition. There was little knowing into what they were traversing, but from the stories spread throughout the kingdom, their benefit, indeed, was in their number.


With a guttural rumble and the wicker of the mount, the carriage came to a pause and one of the ten rose to peer through a small narrow window in the cab. A moment passed and the doors were opened, the footman stepping aside to let the throng out. Arabella waited, as she ought to, until the wagon was nearly empty, then herself exited. Her shoes made a squelching sound in the moistened earth, the air a heavy, thick feel, smelling strongly of dirt and horse and hay, but also something bitter and unfamiliar, like a crop gone to rot.


Following dutifully along with the others, she joined the line, gaze respectfully down-turned, hands folded. These were the men and women of worth, and she, lowly in station could do no more than serve as effectively as their quest would allow, and that, it seemed began with their inspection.

 

[Space Cowboy Ein]

Lady Edina Maplecroft - Royal Knight - Ashlow Outskirts


Edina should have been watching their flanks, and she was...from time to time. But it was hard to concentrate on maintaining vigilance on their way to Ashlow with the ever present looming omen that was the veil. When first spotted from the distance, it simply looked like low lying fog, and Edina, naturally skeptical about the actual size of the veil, figured they'd have no problem navigating it. Anyone else that had gotten lost likely was bad with maps anyways. But her skepticism, and wishful thinking, began to slowly dwindle as they had grown closer. In reality, the Veil was huge, stretching on for miles in either way, well beyond the limits of the human eye. It was as high as some of the tallest trees in Regalis and the visibility into it was practically nonexistent. Everything she had told herself to avoid being nervous had been thrown out of her and replaced with thoughts of home, and likely not seeing it again.


But Edina couldn't let these fears become evident in her facial features. She was Lady Edina Maplecroft after all, head of her family that had lasted for ages and a royal knight here to protect Prince Ceril himself. She wouldn't allow herself to seem off put by the veil, it'd only make the handful of soldiers and servants below her more nervous, and maintaining morale would be important considering their assignment. Not to mention, she wouldn't be caught shirking away from her duty as a knight in the presence of Alexander of all people. She had silently cursed a number of saints for being paired with him on this mission but hoped they could forgo any lingering arguments until after they returned from the veil. She broke from her trance on the large grey cloud when the small caravan finally came to a halt. A quick glance around the Ashlow met her with an expected view. Poor people with not enough money to leave, but could hardly afford to stay, what with their proximity to the fog that took any who wandered into it.


Ceril finally gave her his orders and she nodded towards him before dismounting her horse shortly after Alex. She'd let him do the first run over of the auxiliary members before coming in for a more intense inspection. She went through more minor armor and weapon imperfections if only to keep the distance between herself and Alex. She stopped in front of the red-haired female soldier staring out towards the veil. She shifted her stance to be face to face with her, resting one hand on her hip and the other on the hilt of her sword. She racked her brain for a moment, what was her name again? While she wanted to make it a point to know the names of those below her, it was still a difficult task given how many soldiers she had commanded over the years. Ren...Jen...Gwen...Gwendalin! "Gwendalin." She called to her, taking a step forward and sweeping her hip hand back towards the Veil. "Does the Veil scare you?" She looked to the soldier beside her. "How about you?" Then to the rest of the group. "Any of you?" The group of soldiers all stared to each other nervously, not willing to admit to some form of cowardice. "Well, it should. You'd be a fool not to be. This accursed wall of fog as swallowed up more good men and women than we could likely replace. But we'll be going in there anyways, because unlike them, we have a working system, and are in the presence of Prince Ceril himself. We will succeed where others have failed for that reason alone, but our chances of survival rely on you as well. You take that fear that you have, and you turn it into fuel to act when a lesser person would freeze." She paced forward towards Alexander, casting him a short glance before cutting back to the troops. "Remember, bravery isn't the absence of fear, it's acting in the face of it. If you stick to those words, you'll make it out alive." Her words were direct and for all intents and purposes she sounded sure of herself. But the reality of the situation was that she was attempting to reassure herself that they wouldn't be dying for nothing. Once that was all over, she went on to search for her squire, they had work to do.

 

[Effervescent]

Alexander Vallane

​

Gloved fingers carefully clasped the sides of his helm as Alexander removed the piece from obstructing his face. The autumn air kissed his cheeks in a gentle chill as it whispered soft threats of the coming cold of winter. His brown hair fell in a mess around his narrow features as his furrowed brow scanned over the auxiliary troops. The silver helm was carefully brought to cradle under one arm. Moisture from the mid-morning collected around the floral decor embossed within the metalwork of his armor. While each piece was not tarnished and their metallic sheen a sign of good care, it was easy to see how antiquated the set was when taking note of the nicks and minor repairs. Alexander wore the armor out of obligation, though the nature of why he would desire otherwise would not be readily seen. At this time, Alexander's thoughts mulled over the line to which Lady Edina addressed. What was important was not the tarnished Vallane name or how his armor could be used as a metaphor for the noble house. What was important were the lives of everyone present, and he wanted to be sure they were ready for the unknown.


Alexander's eyes met Edina's as she passed. It was brief, but cutting, and as the knight continued her dissertation he wondered if there was a correlation between what she was saying and the shared glance. His jaw set at the possible jab, and he turned to face the Veil to place his mind elsewhere. The last thing he needed was to lash out at his equal in front of so many. He needed to redirect his focus. Did the prince not consider the pairing of these two dysfunctional knights? Had it been anyone else, Alexander would have felt more at ease. It seemed to him the past between them was still a festering wound neglected by time. This could greatly affect their synergy when working together in the Veil. He had to draw a line of professionalism in his mind and push out his bias and personal feelings towards Edina, or it could end up costing lives.


By the time his mind calmed, Edina's voice came to a close in her empowering words. He could hear the woman's footsteps in the soft dirt as she walked away, and he turned to face the line of volunteers. Alexander froze as he was met with a familiar face framed by vibrant red hair. When Edina had mentioned her name before, it never registered in his mind. He was otherwise preoccupied with other tasks, and his outstanding tiff with the knight Edina. A moment lingered in the air, his mouth somewhat agape as he stared at the unexpected before him. It had been years since he'd seen Gwendalin, and before he could assess if she even recognized him, he turned his gaze to scan down the line once again.


Nine auxiliary soldiers in total, he counted. Alexander's eyes fell on Kepheus thoughtfully, unsure of the man's age and capability therein. He looked seasoned and wise in a battle, his aged skin lined with scars denoting survival among great odds. His head nodded in quiet approval of the man before speaking and turning down the line. His gaze caught the menacing silhouette of a young, grisly looking berserker, the appearance of which gave him a curious pause. He'd never seen anyone quite like the man, but judging by his muscular and scarred appearance, he looked quite capable.


"Right now is your final chance to turn back," Alexander stated. "From this point forward, you are bound by duty. Unpack the supplies and find a location suitable to set up camp. Do not set the tents up near any gardens or tear up their land, and do not take anything from the people of Ashlow. I expect you all to show these people respect. You are representing His Majesty Prince Ceril. Take that to heart, and get to work. Dismissed."


Alexander turned away from the line of auxiliary soldiers quickly before he could be confronted with Gwendalin once again. His boots bore into the earth with each heavy step as he made his way over to Prince Ceril. His dark gaze cast apologetically towards Aleida in preparation for his interruption. "Apologies, Prince Ceril," he said as he approached, his eyes returning to Ceril. He halted before his prince, his stance formal as he gave an inclination of his head. "We have nine auxiliary soldiers reporting."


@BeyondPoetry @Swimswamswom

 

[Doctor Jax]

Marnia Belhund -- Esquire -- Ashlow


"And what am I doing? Driving a blasted wagon."


Marnia had been grumbling to herself the whole way to Ashlow. When they'd first received word that they would be heading towards the Veil, to tackle that hellish fog that seemed to be eating the greater countryside of Regalis, Marnia had imagined herself with her bow a-twanging and sword a-cutting through the mist as if it were a soft block of cheese. Instead, she was trying to get a pair of pack mules to move faster than a sludgy amble.


She'd been more than ready to take on the very spawn of hell that had swallowed whole her three older brothers. When they'd approached within sight of the Veil, Marnia had had to take a moment to stare at it, curse it, and remember her fallen siblings, if fallen they were. Brunsvar, with his wide smile and easygoing look, engaged to marry a farm girl. Mergan, his stupid hat cocked on his head while he idly picked his teeth. Baldwin, quiet and stoic as a rock, yet somehow able to produce the most ribald of jokes when the moment called for it. She would find them, either breathing or as bones.


And now, they were in Ashlow, the entourage stopped at a dead halt. Marnia had only gotten a glimpse of a few of the auxiliary soldiers, and she honestly hadn't gotten a hold of many of their names. Grimly, she knew she probably wouldn't know until they bit the dirt, but such was life. She looked around and felt a familiar pang of homesickness as she saw the rundown cottages, the dirty faces in the windows. The children were the only ones really curious enough to actually approach, daring each other to get close enough to just touch the tip of a horse's tail, just close enough to tap the wheel of one of the wagons. She made a face at a passing child that stared at her in awe, wearing her leather riding outfit, not ready to try sitting in a wagon for days in a suit of armor. The child squealed and ran ahead, putting a smile on Marnia's face.


Then, both knights gave their speeches to the respective people of the caravan now that they'd stopped. Marnia took the time to step down out of her own supply wagon and pat the neck of one of the mules, who returned the favor by attempting to bite her. She made a face while keeping an ear out for what was being said. Edina was trying for a more inspirational talk about how they should be afraid of the Veil, and that that was okay. And Alexander... well, his delivery was a little more chilly. He was never exactly the warm and cuddly type anyways. She heard the order to find a place to camp, and she groaned. She'd just got off this rickety bundle of planks. Now they wanted her to find a place to camp out.


Knowing Edina would want something in particular, she looked around for the noble lady. No doubt, she was looking for her as well, and they were just going in circles, trying to find each other.


Seeing the redheaded lass, Gwen, if memory served right, she trotted over on her lank legs, looking like she had far more joints than limbs. Coming to a skidding stop, she asked her, "Oi, ya seen a lady wearin' armor? I know she jis walked over this way, but I can't seem t'find 'er. By the way, name's Marnia, but you can call me Marn. Sorry fer butting in."

Spoiler

@Musician @Space Cowboy Ein

 

[Chordling]

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[Coin]

PRINCE CERIL


Were the Prince less a wiser man, he would have been ensnared in the allure of the Veil. The rolling fog that blanketed the hilly border of Ashlow certainly would have drawn unsuspecting and curious folk like doomed sailors to a siren's call at sea. However, the wiser man would know that despite the Veil's omnipresent and whirling beauty to the outside eye, a deeper malice was enshrouded by the murky haze. Ceril broke his gaze form the Veil when chilling tendrils began to dance across the base of his spine. He swiftly dismounted from his warhorse, Ohry, and dug his boots into the soft ground of Ashlow. The clatter of provisions and supplies served well to distract the Prince's mind from the Veil as he stretched out his sore riding muscles. Despite the regal appearance of his engraved armor, it bit uncomfortably into his sides during the longer treks on horseback; at least he didn't even bother wearing his helmet outside of sparring.


As the auxiliary soldiers and servants were setting up their tents, two bodies per, Ceril knew something wasn't quite right even before receiving a report from his knights. There were nowhere near the amount of auxiliary soldiers he had requested from the Grand Marshal back at Valemaceria. A rough head count would show that the military officials had severely shorted the Prince's end of the bargain. From then, Ceril's mood began to foul swiftly. How dare those senile generals forsake and undermine a crown prince of the Ambryn throne. The official report from Sir Alexander and Aleida only drove the point home even worse. Nine auxiliary soldiers and two weeks of supplies to make possibly the most important venture the kingdom of Regalis has known in decades.


Ceril squeezed his gauntlet-clad palms in frustration until the metal began to dig painfully at his skin. To conceal his deteriorating mood, he unclasped one gauntlet and ran the hand through his swept hair. The Prince breathed an airy sigh and gestured to his inner circle, "Aleida, Sir Alexander, Lady Edina, a word in private, please."


Leading his highest ranking subordinates a fair distance from earshot away from the rest of the troops and servants, Ceril tapped his temple a few times in silence before speaking again, "So, I won't even begin to mention how ill fated this journey is already looking with a severe shortage of men and provisions, but we'll simply have to make do. We'll overnight here in Ashlow and wait to see if the other two wagons scheduled from the capital ever arrive, but my hopes are not high. If any of the local citizens or even any of the soldiers ask, we're only here to let the horses and mules rest before we set off into the Veil. Let's not overstay our welcome."


"By God, I hope we brought enough wine," Ceril offhandedly remarked at Aleida before setting back off to the officer's tent that a handful of servants had just finished pitching.


--


Ceril had only made it a few yards before he was intercepted by a middle aged man, balding and adorned in tattered clothes. The twisted look of disgust on his face spoke all of the discontent the Prince needed to see. Even though the peasant was considerably shorter and all together less impressive than Ceril in his full armor, the man still talked with enough confidence to cast a shadow over a mountain.


"If ye's came ta 'venture into the Veil', why isn't ye steppin' foot into the Veil yet? Yer right here 'n Ashlow, I could piss and hit the damn Veil from me house and yer here pitchin' a tent! I dun understan' why the King neededa' royal prince to lollygag and play goddamn soldier to investigate a bloody fog line! If I knew ye'd be comin' just to take up space and scare the children, I'd go out there meself and look for my daughter 'n son, not wait for the King's bastard son to do it for me!"


The man made several aggressive steps forward as he directed his sharpened words at Ceril, in which the Prince responded only by narrowing his gaze and crossing his arms over his chest. Today simply wasn't shaping out to be a very good one.


(@BeyondPoetry, @Veirrianna Valentine)

 

[Doctor Jax]

Marnia Belhund -- Esquire -- just outside of Ashlow


Apparently, she had come at a particularly bad time. It seemed the redheaded girl she'd trotted up to was not in the mood for giving directions or being mistaken for someone else. Marnie lifted her hands in a show of surrender and backed away from the redhead, who'd been quarreling with her tentmate about sleeping arrangements. Heaven knew, she'd had enough days like that when they finally rented out rooms of their castle and she was stuck sleeping with five of her girl-cousins.


"Sorry, love. I'll be on my way." Making friends already, aint'cha Marnie?


Sighing, she decided to wander around in the hopes that perhaps, just perhaps she might catch Edina and set the tents and things up to her specifications. That woman could pick out a slack rope like a barn owl picks out a field mouse. Marnie herself didn't understand why they had to set up a tent when they could sleep in the supply wagon without ever having to break out canvas and those blasted pegs, but orders were orders, and she'd been told to set up camp. Still, rather than wait, she decided she might as well put up at least Edina's tent so she didn't have a cow, and a horse, and a pig, and a whole litter a' kittens...


After painstakingly putting up the tents, she took a short walk around camp in the hopes of finding her master. In the end, she encountered very few people. On her little trek around the camp, she'd managed to pawn off some carrots and a few leeks from a villager wandering in to Ashlow to visit Grandmother, as well as talk to some of the people working in the fields. Eventually, however, she saw Edina and Alexander (together! Within ten paces of each other!) walking along with lady Aleida with the prince (oh la la), and Marnie's curiosity senses began to prickle and prod her. Looking left and right, she found what she was looking for -- a man struggling to pull his plow out of the mire about thirty feet away from where the prince had stopped.


"Hulla, good sir, 'low me to help you wi' that..."


As she and the elderly farmer grunted and groaned and cursed at the plow, Marnie listened out for the prince's voice. She may be no looker, but she had the ears of a fox! How else would she trade good gossip for recipes? From this distance, the prince's voice was easily snatched by the wind at times, but the majority of his speech was within hearing. Suddenly she was glad for the carrots and onions in the small messenger pack at her side.


What blasted idiot in Valemaceria thought it were a good idea t' send the crown prince only two weeks' supplies and a couple a soldiers? And hired blades, at that! No, there was something fishy about this, and it wasn't what was dead in the creek bed.


Suddenly, the man she was helping seemed to notice the prince's presence, and grumbling angrily, he abandoned their work to stomp over that way. Marnie, left speechless and rather struck, finally ran after him when it was clear he meant to intercept the prince. To be sure, she ended up catching the tail-end of the old man's angry words, and she suddenly wasn't sure how to handle angry villagers approaching the prince that she was supposed to be learning to protect.





"Ho, stranger, look. It ain't like we ain't wanting for trying to get into the Veil, we're, ah, preparing ourselves, like. Jumpin' with both feet's bound to get your legs broke," Marnie said, trying to diffuse the situation by putting herself between the prince and the angry man. He'd seemed calm enough before, but sometimes bad blood dries in the wrong places. "Real sorry 'bout your folks, but we don't wanna end up like 'em neither. What good are we if we get stuck in there 'n can't get 'em out?"





She gave a nervous smile to the prince. Okay, so maybe not the way Eddie would've handled it.

Spoiler

@Space Cowboy Ein, @Coin, @Musician

 

[Pequeno Burraidh]

Despite Konoha's comfort in the spot she had taken up, both through the shade, the soft grass beneath her feet, as she wore less padded shoes than most, and through the fact that wherever Master Prince Ceril had Ohry walk, she could still see him riding easily upon the steed back. It was exactly as she wanted it to be.


Not too much time later one wagon had arrived, which was odd to her, as even she knew there were supposed to be three. Still, it could have easily been that the other two had been delayed. Issues with wagons weren't that uncommon, and if a spoke on a well had broken during the traversal of one of the narrower roads, it would surely have held up any other wagons too burdened by their loads to risk going off the road momentarily. It made the most sense, provided that another two carts had been sent.


As Konoha continued to watch the crowds she slowly but surely began to notice a few of the other's that had arrived. Be them Knight or Servant, there was a surprising amount of people Konoha felt she'd seen at least once during her service to Master Prince Ceril.


As the groups hustled and bustled about Konoha reached into the folds of her burlap cloak to rifle through the small pack she had, eventually finding a bag with dried apple slices in it. The began chewing on them thoughtfully, somewhat wondering how she would go about revealing herself to Master Prince Ceril. Surely once they made to enter the Veil she would have to come out as having broken his orders, otherwise she could fair lose them seconds after they entered for all anyone understood of the fog. For minutes upon minutes she snacked as she enjoyed what seemed like a break from her duties, but as all breaks were, it wasn't too long before Master Prince Ceril chose to dismount Ohry, and that brought him out of her visions encompassing view.


Packing away her apple slices, the oriental woman began to sift through some of the lingering crowd and make her way towards the prince. She hadn't even made it back within view of Master Prince Ceril when she heard scornful words that easily proved to be directed at her Master. As she began to dart forward, her hands gripped her staff tightly in a spearman's grip, and when she rounded the corner she saw a sight that put her in a foul mood at best. There before her was Master Prince Ceril, with a large woman standing between him and a rather angry looking farmer.


For most it would have been a sight seen implying a situation handled, but Konoha was not about to lower her guard until the Master Prince was well away from the man, and her instincts proved true as the man reached into the folds of his ragged clothes and withdrew a short rusty blade. What little that Konoha saw of it, it seemed to have just been a broken scythe tip with one part wrapped in rags, but a threat towards Master Prince Ceril was a threat none the less. As he pulled it forth he lifted his hand above his head and made as if to run forward.


Breaking into a fluid motion, the small cloaked woman raised her staff with ease before dashing forward and swinging it into the man's wrist with a brutally sharp crack as the hard wood struck viciously at the man's wrist, causing him to cry out and drop the makeshift blade. He backed off a step or two, crying angrily as he held his wrist in agony. Konoha took this short reprieve as a chance to undo the tie holding her burlap cowl and let the coarse material fall easily from her white cloths and foreign visage.


"You would do well to fall to knees and pray forgiveness to Master Prince Ceril. He will be much more nicer than will I." Konoha spoke angrily as her hands shifted to hold her staff in a defensive position.


Now, perhaps it was the man's anger for the inaction of his family, or his hatred for those that took so long to act, or maybe he simply really had not been pleased with having been disarmed by a small foreign woman, but for whatever reason he roared out a guttural 'bitch' and lunged towards Konoha with only one thing one his mind as she swung wildly.


Ducking under the first swing easily Konoha came around to the right of the man and drove the end of her staff into the back right corner of his knee, dropping her assailant down onto it. Before he had time to respond she brought her staff around for another strike, this time swinging the length of it across his back and sending him sprawling into the dirt easily. As the man laid there groaning in delirium and pain Konoha lowered her spear to her side as she fell to her own knees and bowed before Master Prince Ceril, hands to the ground before her with her elbows out somewhat and her head down.


"Humblest apologies Master Prince Ceril, but honour bound am I to protection of you. Could not protect you from castle though, so I followed against wishes. Will accept any punishment seen fit for order-breaking with understanding I faulted it myself."


@Coin @Doctor Jax

 

[Elle Joyner]

Arabella Dane

Inspection went as well as could be expected, really, for a servant. Arabella had grown accustomed, over time, to being overlooked. In reality, they were of little more importance than the horses which pulled the wagons. They would serve their purpose, give and do whatever was necessary, but in the end their worth would never measure up to those of the auxiliary knights, and certainly not to the Lords and Ladies they would serve under. In very many cases, this one not withstanding, their worth wouldn't measure up to those horses...


As they were dismissed to begin building a camp, Arabella turned and her eyes met the horizon, or where it should have been. The Veil... The shifting, roiling fog, rose like a wall, high against the pale grey sky. Inexplicably, Bell felt her heart knit against her ribs, and a cold trickle of fear traced icy fingertips along her spine. She shuddered, arms wrapped over her chest.


This was the menace they faced, and it was a terror, indeed.


A commotion in the distance drew her attention from the Veil and Bell frowned at the display taking place several yards away. It was difficult to say what had happened, but it appeared a peasant, no doubt disgruntled by their invasion of Ashlow, had taken up word with the Prince. Things had then taken a violent turn, and it had been...of all people, the Prince’s personal servant who had settled the matter.


They had been there no more than half an hour and already there was trouble. It was shaping up to be quite the mission, indeed.


Something tugged at the corner of her cloak and Bell turned to see a small fist wrapped in the fabric, wide brown eyes studying intensely. She couldn’t have been older than six or seven, a small blonde thing, thin as a rail and quaking.


“Are you going to save him?” The little girl asked, pink mouth quivering.


“...I’m sorry?”


“My Papa. Are you going to save him from the fog? He’s gone, and they’re all saying he won’t come home again. Are you going to bring him home?”


Her jaw twitched, as Bell knelt before the small creature, lips curved in a subtle, reassuring smile, “...What is your name?”


“Nonny...”


“Well, Nonny, we are certainly going to try our hardest. Now, you run along home, before it’s too dark. I’ve work to finish.” She gave the child a pat and rose again, and Nonny, grinning, took off running as Bell made way in the opposite direction, to help unload the wagons.

 

[Effervescent]

Alexander Vallane

​

Prince Ceril's words lingered in Alexander's mind as he turned to look down the expanse of the Veil. The dense fog stretched across the land akin to soapy water collecting and swirling in the air around the forest and foliage along the terrain. A small notion grew within him to an inkling and then to a desire. He needed to go into the Veil and right its wrong doings. His boot found purchase in the grass along the dirt road, the heft of his armor no longer sinking within the earth as the system of tangling roots provided stability. Two steps towards the Veil. Two steps closer to this odd fixation to take on this threat and end its tyranny.


The gruff voice of a middle-aged man laden with bitterness broke Alexander's fixation, and he turned away from the fog at the man's transgression. His jaw tightened as he approached the side of his prince, ready to defend him as soon as he came within the view of the disgruntled citizen. But just as his lips parted, an unfamiliar voice broke through with a thick accent, her tone a good match to attempt to neutralize the villager's agitation. Alexander nodded his head to the tall, lanky looking woman in approval. She had at least managed to calm his own agitation at the verbal lashing from the Ashlow local.


"Aye," Alexander said calmly towards the man as he looped his thumbs within his belt. "We want to make sure our horses and mules are well rested before we venture into the Veil. It's to insure we-"


He had seen her approach, but only too late as a partially familiar servant swooped in and attacked the villager he had been addressing. Due to the villager's position, it had looked as though the man had reached behind him to scratch his back. Instead, as the servant engaged in brief combat, it was revealed he had concealed a weapon. Once again, Alexander's jaw set in frustration at his own negligence and that the dispute was not resolved without violence. Alexander took a step to the side as the servant threw herself to her knees before Prince Ceril, his hand upon the hilt of his sword casually as he looked over at his leader.


The foreign woman was someone Alexander had seen about the castle grounds only recently, but never fully gauged her role. He knew within the hierarchy and the way she bowed before the prince apologetically that she was somewhere within the lower cast, yet he still was not sure how to receive her actions upon the Ashlow local. It was not Alexander's call to speak out against what she had done no matter what he felt, but he felt it important to remain until the matter was settled.


@Veirrianna Valentine

 

[Nine]

Aila Kyndol - Servant to Lady Aleida

​

DECISIONS often frustrated Aila's otherwise charming demeanor. To consider between two, or possibly more, alternatives took such raw will for her. Perhaps it was the latent effect of being brought up by such a stern and demanding father. There was also the likelihood that Aila's general lack of friends as a child had left her somewhat crippled with regards to various expectations. Regardless, Aila suffered from an intense fear of making the wrong decision. The very idea that she might inadvertently guide herself or others down a path that would ultimately yield a negative result... such a thing was beyond her. Of course, no one would suspect Aila of such inward timidity. To any but the most discerning of observers, Aila was cocky, confident, and well-spoken. Nevertheless, her position as a servant was well-suited to her temperament. Following orders, mastering obedience, and submitting her well-being to the decisions of another was a blessed relief. But this had been a decision.


As the other members of the company busied themselves with setting up camp, Aila began to unpack Lady Aleida's tent. Her heart sought to devote itself fully to the task at hand as a means of distraction, yet the conversation she'd had with Lady Aleida still reverberated between her ears. Her Lady had often dragged Aila out on various adventures; excursions into the woods, late-night explorations of various city districts and castle fortifications. Aila was all too happy to comply, resisting outwardly as was expected from a servant of her station, but enthralled with each new chance to grow closer in friendship with lady Aleida. Today was the result of no such situation. Today had been her choice. Lady Aleida, ever the noble-hearted one, had no intentions of forcing Aila into this company and it had been left to her to decide. The burden of that decision would follow her for quite a time, though the decision itself had been the first in her memory to yield itself so freely.


Shaking herself free and glancing around, she noted her company. The two knights, each regal in their own regard, were now standing with the Prince and Aleida. Their plate armor flashed brilliantly, as if to spite the hanging mist that clung so closely about them all. Her eyes caught those of Aleida briefly, though the four of them seemed distracted. As a small, foolish old man took it upon himself to berate the Prince, Aila turned, rolling her eyes, to her task.


The tent was simple enough to set up and Aila was proud to have beaten out a handful of the male servants. Playing complement to a young lady like Aleida had certainly broadened Aila's otherwise nonexistent skill set. Sitting down within the tent, Aila took to polishing Aleida's arrows, rubbing an oil mixture into the wood shafts and honing the tips to a needle point. As her hands had found themselves busy with a job that had since become second nature, Aila's mind once again asserted itself in order to haunt her with the choices that brought her here. She sighed heavily as her runaway thoughts again subjugated her to such a heavy weight and set her work aside, laying back and awaiting Aleida's direction as the dull hymn of camp work played on around her.





@BeyondPoetry @Effervescent @Space Cowboy Ein

 

[Doctor Jax]

Marnia Belhund -- Esquire -- outside of Ashlow with the Crown Prince, Konoha, Sir Alexander


Marnia considered herself rather good at gauging the temperament of people, given her circumstances and the people she had lived with. Villagers in the Belhund hold had been well taken care of in her grandfather's time, and her father did as well as he could with what little money they had, but by the time Marnie was only twelve, their villagers were destitute, and destitution led to desperation. Angry men with nothing to lose were the most dangerous, and more than once her father had to fend off an angry man who had lost his farm to their debtors.


And so Marnia cursed her stupidity for forgetting this single fact of life. She'd known the old man was toiling against ground that gave no fruit, with children lost to the Veil, with a bone to pick with Mr. Crown Prince behind her. She saw the tight shoulders, the narrowed eyes, and the hand reaching behind his back.


Why did she not react? Perhaps softheartedness. Perhaps she had grown accustomed to people respecting her as an apprentice of a knight. Or perhaps, the most likely case, she just wasn't paying attention. Alexander had walked over as well, and he had spoken, Marnia's ears and eyes trailing to find him, when she saw the movement of a hand reaching for something behind the old man's back.


The man pulled out a rough shank that, no doubt, was a broken scythe end, the kind that rough men used to protect what little they had when they had near nothing. Her eyes widened, and her heart began to hammer immediately as she watched him raise it, and in this moment she knew she had to decide: was this prince worth getting stabbed over?


People liked to play up duty, that it's an honor and a gift to be given such a responsibility, but that was all bull wallop. Honor was hard. Duty was hard. It was the hardest thing a person was going to commit themselves to, especially something like being part of the prince's royal guard, where every day may bring some foul, fresh hell, like this one. And in Marnia's heart of hearts, her inner core, as she thought about the prince she'd viewed from afar and had seen in court (even if she'd been asleep for most of that), she knew that he was one worth saving. A good man, one who cared for his people, someone that could be trusted with carrying the weight of a kingdom on his back. He had his faults -- like this foolhardy jump into the mist -- but it was full of good intentions. Sometimes, that was what mattered more than the action itself.


So Marnia did what she considered the right thing, and she more than stepped in front of the Crown Prince of the throne of Regalis. She prepared herself to tackle the man, digging heels into the dirt to lunge forward --


And someone stole her thunder right in front of her.


She slumped as a small figure in a burlap sack flashed forward, whacking the man across the hand, then handily taking the old man down. When she had done her work, the figure dropped the cloak and fell to her knees, familiarly strange clothing adorning her and equally strange but familiar features greeting Marnia. Konoha!? The little foreigner? When'd she learn to do that?!





The little foreigner started to apologize -- apologize!! -- for not staying home, and Marnia scoffed.


"He kin pro'bly forgive you that, love," Marnie muttered, but nevertheless, she glanced back at the prince, seeing as that was his call. Remembering the old man groaning on the ground, she hastily added to the rest, "Ah, I'll, er, take care'f this'n, if you don't mind."


Marnia walked over to the downed man and picked up his shank, stuffing it into her bag. She knelt down next to the groaning farmer, and she asked, "Y'look rough. You need sleep. Yer not in yer right mind right 'bout now. Here, lemme help you up."


The beaten farmer was quiet as she hauled him over her shoulder and started hobbling towards the shack he called home. She was aware that belligerent eyes were watching her now, and she stared them down with a harsh look of her own. The villagers had watched the display, and they were less than happy with the prince's people attacking one of their own, even in defense. They had little enough -- couldn't they have some prince's blood water their fields and maybe get a crop? Still, Marnia pushed on with the farmer, who had begun angrily weeping.


"Hope ye die in the mist... Hope the Veil swallows ye, takes ye in ta die like me daughter 'n son, my sweet children... they ain't done nothin', nothin' at all, and it took 'em...ye should be the ones ta die there, not my sweet children, not my girl, my boy..." he wept as Marnia took him home.


A few moments later, she came back, walking with head tall, arms hanging down by her sides, a heavy stone where her heart should be. She knew his anger, and she understood his frustration. But attacking the Crown Prince could have dire consequences, and she had to hope that Ceril would be merciful towards an old man who had nothing but his grief and anger.


She saw the plow, still stuck in the ground, and with great heave, she lifted the whole thing out herself, laying it on its side, before approaching the prince and the small group with him.

Spoiler

@Veirrianna Valentine

 

[Space Cowboy Ein]

Lady Edina Maplecroft - Royal Knight - Ashlow Outskirts


Edina's attempts at going off to find Marnia had only ended up with her being surrounded by little children and anxious mothers on the outskirts. She had hoped the young woman would have been tending to the wagon she'd been driving, but alas, she was already gone. And so instead, she was caught up in the sweep of young ones who looked on at their method of travel in awe. Compared to the average, mules put into the employ of the royalty were well bred and fed, hardly looking as degenerate as the ones they passed on their way to the little hamlet. So, it was no surprise when the group of children backed up, reluctantly, at the arrival of such a towering figure. She did her best to ignore the little tykes while she


absently checked the harnessing on the animals, at least Marnia knew how to do that properly now. She was interrupted by a slight tugging on her right pant leg, and upon looking down she met eyes with a little blond boy staring up at her with big blue eyes.


"E-excuse me..lady knight.." Edina blinked down to the child expectantly and had half a mind to turn and leave the child there, but instead knelt down to acknowledge the lad. "My ma says you're gunna go into the fog...are you gunna go bring pa back? She thinks you won't but..." Edina grit her teeth for a moment, still looking down on the boy despite her position. While she had no issues telling the truth to her soldiers, she was far too prone to lying to children. For what it was worth, she forced a small but reassuring smile and rustled the child's already rather ill kept hair. "If we can find them, I'm sure we'll bring them back." She said lowly before standing back up to address the rest of the children and assuming her more natural and deep voice. "Alright children, run back to your parents. These mules may be well trained but should you agitate them enough you'll live the rest of your life with a hoof-print on your face." With a bit added effort she was able to wave away the children who were sent running back to their families, giggling or a little fearful of Edina.


By the time she had dispersed of them, she was being called over by the Prince and made haste to come to attention to him, making effort to put Aleida between herself and Alexander. Her malignant thoughts towards the man were drowned out quickly by Prince Ceril's words. It sounded eerily familiar to the kind of strange circumstance surrounding her first few years as head of the house. Things going missing, not having enough supplies. Ceril's situation was much worse though, given his position within the royal family. Lacking the supplies they would need for a journey like this was surely not a mistake.


She could only ruminate on the reasons behind this misfortune of the group when the Prince was stopped by a rather angry commoner. Her hand moved to the hilt of her sword once again, but her approached to quickly put the man down was interrupted by the arrival of Marnia from seemingly out of nowhere. The girl sure had the tendency to simply disappear and pop back up whenever she damn near pleased. She gave her words to calm the man, and so did Alexander, but it was the actions of a hooded individual that finally subdued the dissenter. As it turned out, it was a foreign woman, one who she could only slightly recall because of her more....exotic..appearance. Whether or not the Prince would distribute punishment upon her was not something she had to involve herself with, instead, she followed after Marnia. She took a few steps past Alexander and looked back to the Prince. "If you'll excuse me, Prince Ceril." And with that she continued at a slow pace and waited until Marnia had just dumped the plow to confront her.


"Marnia..." She crossed her arms in distaste, her tone flat and slightly upset. "You shouldn't have taken that man away before the Prince passed judgement on him, it is dangerous to overstep those above you. Granted...it's too late to want to maintain good relations...most likely now that we've had this..." She paused to look back towards the small figure that had attacked the man in Ceril's defense. "Encounter. Still, unlike that commoner, it is unlike a member of the nobility to act so hastily on an impulse. I'd ask you show restraint until orders are given next time." She paused, remembering the original reason why she was going to lecture her. "Also, no running about either. As much as you attempt to avoid me I'd rather not lose track of my squire once we enter the veil....and did you set up our tent yet?"





@Doctor Jax

 

[Doctor Jax]

Marnia Belhund -- Esquire -- outskirts of Ashlow with Edina Maplecroft


Marnia looked up from her walk over, and dread built up in her stomach. She could see Edina walking over with The Look. It was always especially easy to notice The Look, because there was just this set of her face that managed to tip Marnie off. It had been much more common for her to give The Look whenever she first started her apprenticeship, back when she was a little miffed over the sudden loss of her supposed 'destiny'. Now, it was less frequent, but every few weeks, The Look would resurface, and Marnie knew she would end up cleaning tent canvas for days.


Unconsciously, she sighed and crossed her arms over her chest, her back slightly slumped as she looked off in the distance while Edina went into her tirade. Yeah, yeah, she screwed up, she went and took the guy back to his little shack, she shoulda waited for the Prince to pass judgment, yada yada yada. Sometimes, she just forgot herself. Perhaps it was a habit of being part of the Belhund household. Sometimes, you made snap decisions, because there was no one else to make them.


"Aye, aye, I get it, I get it. I overstepped my bounds in justice, shoulda let tall, dark, and royal handle it, I'm sorry," Marnie sighed, looking heavenward. Honestly, she hadn't considered the option of leaving the man there -- she had figured the old man would need time to sit and think, maybe even get his bearings. But then again, that also gave him the option of running, and maybe she had been hasty. She scratched the left side of her face, fingering the pock marks that dotted her skin where bone rash had rampaged across her face.


"And yes, I went and put up yer tent. I even left ya some tea by yer bedroll, seein' as I know how much you like that kinda thing. That tent'd hold up in a squall, much less out here with that thing so close," Marnie said, gesturing to the menacing fog that was threatening to eat the rest of the countryside. She put her hands on her hips and sighed, scuffing one boot. She had a hard time sometimes with Eddie, and she guessed it was a bit of a control thing, especially seeing as they got off on the wrong foot those first few weeks.


Well, months.


Maybe that first whole year was a little rocky.


"Okay, I am sorry fer taking the old man off. But he'd just been beat, so I figured he weren't gonna be much harm anyways, 'n he ain't goin' nowhere with a bum leg like 'at, so the prince knows where to find 'im if he were gonna take off his head," Marnie mumbled, kicking a clod of dirt. "I'll be more mindful. Didn't mean ta overstep and stomp on Prince Ceril's boots."


Suddenly, Marnie remembered something, and she dug around in her bag. "And just ta be sure, I, ah, took his shiv."


She produced a rather rough, rusty scythe end, bound with cloth on one end. She threw it up into the air and caught it deftly, before doing a few 'knife tricks' she'd learned along the way, things her brothers had taught her because they thought it would be funny to scare their mother by having her parade around balancing knives off her nose.

 

[Swoob]

WITH A GROUND-SHAKING SLAM, FENDREL raised himself out of the cart and jumped onto the ground, his feet sinking into the soft soil as it flowed in between his bare toes. Rolling his stiff shoulders, he threw his gaze around the village of Ashlow. The familiar, homey stench of poverty wafted into his nostrils. He closed his eyes, breathing deeply as a slight feeling of nostalgia tugged at his heels. For the briefest of moments, Fendrel stumbled and almost lost his balance. His vision faded into a violent flashback; that of a smoke-filled sky casting a shadow over an ashen landscape. A boy stood before him, dark blood leaking out of his stomach and splattering onto the ground below. The apparition reached out to him, tears rolling down his dirt-streaked face. Fendrel extended his arm towards him, but his hands were dribbling with that same blood. He looked down at his stained hands, breathing louder and more rapidly, about to scream.


Then, as abruptly as it had begun, the dream flickered and faded back to reality, his emotions receding with the image.


Hoisting the tent materials onto his muscular shoulders, Fendrel passed by the Prince and his knights and began meandering through the impoverished village of Ashlow. Dust stirred up from the ground and painted his face a chalky brown. He narrowed his eyes, glancing from left to right. As he carried on through the village, peasants would stare at him and maneuver their children behind their legs. Curious, twinkling eyes poked through the holes and windows of the cottages, their gazes piercing into his body like daggers. Fendrel walked onward with a forced indifference.


A faint laughter from the right captured the attention of the beast-like man and he quickly halted in his tracks. A pair of two young boys darted out in front of him, laughter echoing and stupid grins plastered onto their faces. The child giving chase suddenly pounced forward and wrapped his arms around the other one, both falling down and tumbling about in the soft dirt.


Suddenly, they stopped, smiles disappearing, and locked gazes with Fendrel. He stared down at the pair of trembling young boys and kneeled down, slowly and carefully. The two did not move except for their wild shaking as their fear-drowned eyes looked into his. Their semblances were innocent and round with lanky bodies. In an instant, an uncontrollable thought burst through the inner barriers of his mind before he could stop it: I wonder who I would be if I grew up in a village like this one. He grunted, shooing the notion away. Känalyn was his pride, his glorious home, and he loved it fervently.


After all, it was the only thing he had to love.


Creeping out from behind a house, a young peasant woman dressed in tattered, gray rags stepped gingerly over to the duo while keeping her eyes set on Fendrel. In one swift movement, she grabbed the two and scurried back to her cottage. Sighing deeply, he pushed off his knee and rose up once again. Fendrel the Reaper, the bloodthirsty warrior who struck fear directly into every warrior's heart, trudged over to a nearby space and began setting up his tent on the outer rim of the village about 100 yards from the auxiliary carts.

 

[Poe]

“You and me both,” Aleida said back to Ceril under her breath just low enough for the two of them to hear, “that would be the real tragedy here.” All in all, she couldn't say she was surprised at the turn of events. Hardly anyone viewed their mission as anything other than a suicide mission — not that they had any reason to believe otherwise. Towns full of people, scouting missions, all men, women and children who disappeared and deserved so much more than the dark and twisted fate the people of Regalis believed was bestowed upon them. Aleida didn’t have enough time to dwell, however, as she was shaken out of her thoughts by a man who approached Ceril with sharp words. Every part of her wanted to pin him herself, draw her bow and aim her arrow between his eyes and quip about how she was the only one who was allowed to call Ceril out without consequence — but she couldn’t.


His words struck a chord within her. His daughter and son were lost beyond the Veil and it was clear the wound was fresh enough that he did not worry about the repercussions of encroaching upon the prince. It was for people like him that Aleida had agreed to venture into the fog. While she would never let Ceril down or allow him to venture without her by his side, she also knew that she had an obligation to bring anyone home that she could. No one deserved to feel the pain that came from losing someone in the depths of the Veil. It was uncertain, unknown, and it ate away at every fibre of one’s being because there was no way to know.


For a single moment, Aleida realized she had averted her gaze to Ceril during her musings and they made brief eye contact. What had happened was unspoken and while they’d never discussed it, it was clear that this mission for Aleida was not for glory. It was to protect those she loved and to save whomever she could.


Aleida turned on her heel and made her way back to the tent that her handmaiden, Aila, had so expertly constructed for them. While she had been hesitant to bring Aila along, she could not voice the gratitude in her heart for the fiery redhead’s companionship. In the decade that they had been together, they had grown close akin to sisters, and though Aleida was one year her senior, Aila was the more demure, polished and lady-like of the two and could often be viewed as older in terms of maturity.


“Well, on the bright side — we don’t have to travel anymore today,” Aleida shrugged as she walked into the tent she shared with Aila. Her body almost immediately hit the her makeshift bed and she let out a soft grunt, “But we’ve only got enough resources to last us two or three weeks, max. We might not be able to explore as thoroughly as we wanted to, but Ceril’s still got some hope that more provisions will be delivered from the capital. I’m not holding my breath, but we’ll see, I guess.”


“Now that I see it up close, it just doesn’t feel right to me,” she admitted, though there was no fear in her voice. “What do you think?”


(@Coin @Nine)

 

[Coin]

PRINCE CERIL


Ceril didn't quite know what to expect when the farmer took the many aggressive steps towards a prince of the Ambryn throne. For a moment, he considered resting a gauntleted hand on the pommel of his sword to show that he would be very ready to strike down those who oppose him. Fate would have it that he would never get the chance, as his subordinates were much swifter and punctual in their action than he. Again, exceeding his expectations were exactly who had responded to the scuffle. The warrior that stood between him and his assailant was not any of his knights, but rather Lady Edina's squire. Young and strapping, the Lady Marnia stood steadfast against the promised onslaught of a mere farming tool-turned-shiv. Yet before any harm were to befall anyone under his jurisdiction, a cloaked figure sprang into action and easily dispatched the man with its polearm. It took only a fraction of a second and a mere glimpse of the figure's face for Ceril to realize who it was. Of course it would be Konoha to disregard the Prince's orders and follow his royal caravan for days -- likely on foot, only to reveal herself to save him from a destitute and desperate farmhand.


Regardless, the assailant was neutralized, clutching what had to have been a broken wrist and a certainly fractured ego. Ceril stepped forward, briefly placed a hand on the young squire's shoulder in silent approval and stepped in front of her to address a pleading Konoha at his feet.


"Stand up, Ko," Ceril's words dripped of icy discontent, "Off the ground, you'll get filth on your clothes."


There would be no use arguing with his servant. She hardly spoke the common tongue and would surely fail to coherently express her reason for disobeying Ceril's wishes. Instead, as Marnia helped the limping man back to his home, the Prince considered his few options. He could very well order her to return back home, or even stay in Ashlow until he returned, however the likelihood that those orders be followed were but a fleeting hope. The Lord had his own way of cruel jokes, what Ceril needed was more soldiers and He had bestowed upon the Prince a royal servant.


"Ko, as punishment, you will go to the farmer's homestead and present him these coins," Ceril unclasped a small pouch on his riding belt and placed it into the servant's open hand, "Learn his name and apologize to him. After, make sure you get a cut of your rations from the wagons -- you must be starving and we've a long journey ahead of us in the morning. Go on now, return by nightfall."


(@Veirrianna Valentine)


---


SEVERAL HOURS LATER -- SUNSET





The sun fell quickly in this season. Fortunately, the rest of the evening had passed without incident since the angry farmer. For now, the Prince had called the entire entourage to gather around the bonfire they'd constructed at the center of their temporary campsite. Camping arrangements had long been finished, while provisions, soldiers and transportation had all been accounted for. Only final preparation of the mind remained at task. Supper had been passed around, boiled vegetable stew and cured beef with a cup of wine sat before every member of gathering -- servant to nobility.


All was silent among the group as many made their prayers and paid their respects. Save for the crackling of a roaring fire and a few standing torches, the stillness remained for nearly a minute before the Prince finally spoke, "In the morrow, we will pass into the Veil with our hearts yearning to ascertain what is unknown to us. Only the bravest of Regalis have been chosen for this venture, so we will not fail when our kingdom is in need. In the morrow, we will begin our journey with steadfast ardor for the justice of every soul lost in that terrible fog."


Ceril raised his wine glass in appreciation to his subordinates, "But tonight, we drink for togetherness and a safe return home to our friends and families. Eat well and enjoy the warmth of your bedrolls. Tomorrow will be a trying day for us all. Long live Regalis!"


The Prince tipped the wine glass up to his lips, a sure signal for everyone to follow suit. Immediately after, the camp was alive again with chatter as conversations picked up over a hearty meal around the fire. Finally relaxing back against large log and giving Aleida a nudge with his elbow, "I'm gettin' better at this whole speech business, don't you think? I ought ta be king in no time at this rate."


A smirk had found its way onto the right corner of the Prince's lips. Indeed, this expedition would assist him in gaining the necessary footing he needed in the royal court to begin his climb to the top of the Ambryn throne.


(@BeyondPoetry, @Swimswamswom, @Honey Bee, @korigon, @Veirrianna Valentine, @Doctor Jax, @Elle Joyner)

 

[Pequeno Burraidh]

Master Prince Ceril's audible discontent lashed down on Konoha's back harsher than any whip, club or cane ever could, and her eyes clenched in frustration and sorrow that breaking his word was the only way to ensure his safety. Still, ordered off the ground as she was, she rose hastily, quickly brushing off an errant dirt that had clung to her garments as Master Prince Ceril spoke of filthying them. As he lowered a bag of coin, with orders to present them to the man and return for supper, Konoha couldn't help but fight against a lump in her throat.


Turning away after a bow, she hurried off, not eager at the notion that Master Prince Ceril would see the affect of his disappointment in her. She chided herself as she felt a small tear escape free from the corner of her eye and set a path down to her chin. Rubbing it away with furore, Konoha shook her head furiously before setting her jaw tight and began to search for the home of the man, eager to see Master Prince Ceril's orders carried out.


---


Sunset





Konoha had retrieved her rations, as ordered, but had been slow in eating. The actions of the day, both the failures and successes, weighed heavily on her mind as she sat further from Master Prince Ceril than she normally would have. It wasn't her humiliation or embarrassment about disobeying him that kept her away though, but instead a slightly bruised right eye from a left hook and a split lip from having a bag of coins harshly thrown in her face. She knew that Master Prince Ceril had been displeased with the harshness of her actions, that much was clear, and she felt it wouldn't do well to have him see that his kindness to the man had been returned in such an ill manner.


Instead she chewed slowly on the softer foods as her eyes roved the camp and those that had come to serve Master Prince Ceril in his mission. She spotted a fair few that she did recognise well, a servant or two that she had either met or served with, a few knights she was sure she'd caught glimpse of before, Lady Aleida, ever present at her Master's side, as always. Then there were a few faces she didn't know, like the brutish barbarian she saw tell of earlier when she'd been on her way to find the farmer's house.


The group was a fair size smaller than what they had originally expected though, and it was clear that if more wagons didn't arrive by morning, then this was all there was going to be to the group.


As the firelight danced across the faces of those present, she noted expressions of hope, fear and determination, varying states of readiness as they prepared for their embarking into the mist the next day. Likewise she was also prepared, ready for any trial she may have to face. Though the farmer had been untrained, her time practising, and her occasional trips to the sparring yard under the cover of night, had seemed to have paid off. Placing her platter to the side, she lifted her staff into her lap and began feeling along it's length, checking any nicks or bumps accrued from her encounter.


On thing was certain in her mind, this was surely not going to be the last time she would have to put it to use. Fingers lighting over a small seam near the spade end, Konoha took a deep breath and looked over to Master Prince Ceril, as well as Lady Aleida. She would see the Prince well kept and protected, and as she included his emotional health, she decided Lady Aleida too would fall under her protection. Her nose wrinkling slightly, Konoha suddenly let out a light sneeze as the smoky air drifted by her, and it drew her from her thoughts. She placed her staff back at her side and set back to eating her meal amongst the others.