Fantasy Penance Behind the Veil

[korigon]

If there was one thing Kepheus could be sure about, it was his chances at recognition. Of course, it meant not dying, but that was a small matter! Even the most obscure members of the expedition would be rewarded, and who would want to die when they had a hefty sum of silver coins waiting for them? Without a doubt, not Kepheus! He would crawl back, bruised and bloody, if the need arose, just to run his hands through the stuff. He could see it now, a torrent of silvery circles rushing down a green-carpeted expanse. He could feel the coins in his hands, a solid object he could utilize to live his final years in comfort. Kepheus envisioned his future among a pile of velvet, plush pillows of the darkest crimson. Clear, silk sheets adorned a rich mahogany bed-frame, draped by curtains of a handsome green. With a start, he noticed that the red cushion were turning to a somber red. A still, immobile body lay sprawled across the mattress, with blood flowing swiftly from the figure.


"That isn't right!" Kepheus exclaimed aloud, his tone conveying his surprise. A startled look engulfed his robust face, and he realized that he was standing in the middle of a street in Ashlow, muttering to himself about beds and coins. A small crowd had gathered around him, murmuring in a bewildered pitch. Kepheus attempted a sharp laugh, then quickly strode through the parting crowd with a chagrined appearance. He made his way toward the tents, scolding himself for such sheepish behavior. As he looked upon the canvases being formed, Kepheus noticed, to his horror, there was a bear setting up his tent!


After closer inspection inspection and to his relief, he realized it was just a rather hairy and rather small man. He had the look of a barbarian, reminding Kepheus of a man from the village of Känalyn he had once gutted. It had been a fierce fight, with Kepheus finally gaining the winning hand due to his size and strength. That had been at least twenty years ago, and he did not fancy fighting one of those men again. He stood watching the man for several minutes, then strode off in an attempt to discover where the people of Ashlow acquired their booze.

-Sunset-

​

Sunset was always a very special time for Kepheus. It reminded him of his very first battle, a memory which he could never erase. He could still recall some of his young comrades who had fallen there, a victim of greed. He still recalled the dark day when they returned to camp, only to find it forsaken and burned. They had fled for hours, finally reaching sanctuary in a wooded grove. There, with tears running down his cheeks, and the bittersweet smell of sweat around him, Kepheus swore to find the man who responsible. The afterglow of blue-pink illustrated the beauty of the quiet forest, but for Kepheus, it was a time for sorrow.





With such a story like that, it was no wonder that Kepheus considered sunset a sacred moment. Yet while the Prince addressed the members of his venture, he had a flushed face and a tipsy appearance. He had discovered, to his happiness, a small inn where he could acquire the Ashlow booze. After spending some time there, he had half walked, half staggered out the door. There, he met the acquaintance of a pretty village lass near twenty years old, but Kepheus practically fled back to the campsite when he discovered she already had two children. He had stumbled around for quite awhile, eventually crashing into a tree and blacking out. Then, he awoke to find someone had splashed water on him. He stood up quickly and once again tried to return to the campsite, but ended tripping in a mass of shrubbery. His mind still a little addled, he asked for directions and was led by a pack of boys to the campsite, where he found a comfortable enough spot in his tent to sleep.


He soon discovered it was not his tent, and also observed he had a migraine. The dinner did not help, and Kepheus, with a solemn look upon his face, put aside the wine glass and vowed to 'Never drink again.' The chatter continued, making his headache worse, so Kepheus satisfied himself by openly glaring into the distance, at no one in particular. Perhaps the Prince wouldn't notice.

 

[Nine]

Aila Kyndol - Servant to Lady Aleida

​

OFTEN, as was pursuant to Aleida's more casual temperament, Aila would be caught by surprise by her lady's return as she tended to appear without announcement. In this particular case, Aila had been flirting with the brink of slumber when her lady's confident mezzo-soprano recalled her from near-dreaming. Aila sat with a start, mind reeling to catch up with Aleida's conversation as she nodded dumbly and rubbed her eyes. By the time Aleida had herself sat down upon her bedroll, Aila was wide awake. Two or three weeks worth of provision... Aila allowed a brief smirk to flit across her countenance and muttered, "Two or three weeks assuming the entire company lasts out there..."


Aila inhaled deeply as she pondered Aleida's question. She'd not actually given much thought to the Veil itself, much of her mind had been so occupied with how she'd been feeling. But that struck her in itself -- the Veil had cast no spell over her, no threatening aura. "It is a bit strange," Aila spoke as she locked eyes with Aleida, "The Veil doesn't seem particularly menacing in and of itself does it?" She bit her lip, "It's an impressive phenomenon, to be sure, but I've no sense of fear when looking upon it..." Aila paused a moment, contemplating, "Perhaps it is naught but a cover? A simple curtain behind which some greater machinations operate?" Aila shrugged as she lay herself down again. "Does it strike you the same? Or am I simply desensitized by your constant abuse of my nerves?" Aila winked and smirked as she rolled over, sleep already reaching again to meet her even as she struggled to listen for Aleida's response...


~ Sunset ~


Aila truly enjoyed her place beside Lady Aleida. She felt blessed to have been afforded such opportunity to see Prince Ceril at leisure, comfortable to be without his royal façade in Aledia's presence. Aila knew that she was gifted to see a side of the Prince that few others enjoyed and their relationship entertained her greatly. Of course the Prince's words had been eloquently spoken and shaped by such practiced grace and power that inspiration was unavoidable, and yet knowing his true personality humanized them to Aila and she found herself not provoked to duty, but encouraged to loyalty. The difference was subtle, but Aila knew its presence. His off-handish comment to her Lady was not lost on her. Aila knew well the Prince's intention to lay claim upon the Ambryn throne and knew no other man whom she would more willingly follow. She smiled to herself and cast her gaze around the fire, seeking what eyes she might connect with and familiarizing herself with some of her fellows. She noted again the two knights and pondered the apparent tension between them. Such subtleties were well within her insight to discern, yet she had no inkling as to why there would be strife between the two. She caught sight of another man, thus far alien to her, glaring at some unseen target in the distance. He seemed content to do so and unbothered by whatever had earned his ire, so Aila dismissed it. Her attention was briefly diverted by a light sneeze from Konoha, Prince Ceril's personal guard with whom Aila maintained a passable familiarity. "Bless you," she offered Konoha a sidelong glance and gentle smile, before continuing her appraisal of the camp. There were yet others she'd not met and as she lifted a bit of stew to her lips to blow cool, she pondered what was to come and how such a ragtag bunch would weather it.





@BeyondPoetry @Veirrianna Valentine @korigon @Effervescent @Space Cowboy Ein

 

[Effervescent]

Alexander Vallane

​

This was his own personal hell. Alexander sat amongst the gathered crowd around the bonfire. Camp had been pitched, and to his specifications according to inspection. The ground outside of the modest collection of Ashlow huts was minimally disturbed leaving only the crestfallen hearts and bitter minds of the citizens to be at unease. As the sun set upon the looming Veil and Ashlow and the campsite between, so too did Alexander feel his own unease. Amid the light banter and muted merriment beset by inebriation to drown out the growing anxiety of entering the Veil was yet another ghost of a memory brought to fruition once again.


Arabella Dane. He wouldn't forget that name, not after what had happened. It only took a fraction of a moment to recognize her delicate frame before he made it a point to avoid her entirely. Alexander's life had been full of avoiding personal matters, and it was as though every single thing he worked so hard to avoid decided to culminate at this very event. He thought his line of work would save him from facing such delicate matters. As his dark gaze quickly darted away from Arabella, he was met with the imposing presence of his long-standing acquaintance and once-friend Lady Edina. He felt his bitterness churn at the sour note to which their relation was left and silently wished their assignments had been different. Why did she even care?


Close by was her squire, and his brow furrowed. He could never remember the lanky woman's name. Had he heard her voice before this day? Out of everyone present, she seemed the most desirable presence. The squire had a level head and a kind heart that did not see hierarchy. It was a mindset he could relate to, and had this woman not been Edina's squire he likely would have conversed with her more readily, especially in such a time as this when he desired distraction.


Alexander's grip was tight around his bowl of stew and tarnished and slightly bent spoon warped from travel and continual neglect when randomly tossed among his belongings. He fixated on the crackling fire as Prince Ceril gave his speech. Tomorrow they venture into the fog to which no one has returned. Tomorrow he faced the unknown with his his ghosts alongside him. There was promise within the professionalism Lady Edina carried around him despite their personal friction. And while he desired to have as little interaction with her as possible, he knew would not be able to avoid her on at least a professional level.


"Long live Regalis!"


The Prince's words elicited a mechanical response from Alexander as he repeated the words in a murmur. His mind was swallowed by his inner conflict, though the culmination of Ceril's speech seemed to liven his senses. His stance relaxed, his mind slowly brought back to the present as he dipped his spoon within the cooling stew. He took in a deep breath and ladled the simple dish into his mouth as his thoughts relinquished him from a dream-like state. Long live Regalis. Long live the people of Ashlow. Long live the lives he serves and protects. Push away the ghosts, Alexander.

 

[Elle Joyner]

Arabella Dane

As the sun set across the horizon, light bled from the sky in shades of reds and purples, the bonfire in the center of camp blazed hot gold and orange, splashing color across the faces of those gathered before their meal. These were strangers to her, yet somehow, there was something in each of them that stirred echoes of memories... some more than ever, some of those memories an ache, dull and painful... some like the twist of a blade, a fresh new wound carved into clean flesh.


It wasn't the first meal she had shared with those above her station, and certainly in this endeavor would not be the last, but it never ceased to make her uncomfortable. The wine, drunk only out of obligation ran warm down her throat, the food misery in her empty, nervous stomach.


The Prince's speech was about as inspirational as she might expect it to be, leaving her curiously hollow. He was a good man, Prince Ceril, and certainly would make a good king some day, but his most arduous efforts to reassure them were sullied, somehow, by the ever increasing threat looming to the west. Tomorrow would undoubtedly bring enough turmoil to their fine camp to make those pleasant, encouraging words seem trivial... ill-timed, even.


Still, raising her cup, Arabella drank a mouthful to their beloved kingdom, "To Regalis..."

Night fell as it often did, drawing her curtain slowly across the world. The meal ended and the servants cleaned, then retired to their tents to sleep. Arabella stayed longer than most, and only when it became clear that lingering might be viewed somehow suspiciously, did she follow the others to their rest.


Her's, however, was not a sound slumber. As they often were, her dreams were troubled, tumultuous things, and with the horror of remembrance, the nightmares came in force. Bell woke, gasping, and clutching heart, which pulsed hard, pounded like a drum tattoo. Rolling upright, she drew her covers close around her, eyes searching, peering through the darkness to her tent mate. The other girl had not woken, and so carefully, Bell rose to her feet and quietly, slipped through the opening and out into the night air.


It was cold... the earth layered beneath her bare feet in a sheen of frosty dew, the breeze biting, clawing at her bare arms, bare toes. She shivered, but with an odd sense of gratefulness, too cold to focus, too cold to think...


Ahead, coiled in the darkness like a massive serpent she could see it... the Veil. All the fear and pain it had caused, and it only seemed to grow. How long would it torment their land? Could it really even be stopped?


Before her, a small stone retaining wall provided a place to rest and Bell took a seat on it, curling her knees up to her chest. It would hours before dawn, but she'd get no more sleep that night - the least she could do was keep watch...

 

[Pequeno Burraidh]

As night, and so too their slumber and dreams, had fallen upon the company, the members began to retire away to their tents, and Konoha, like the other servants, began to clean up what messes had been left behind. Once finished they separated and went their ways, and Konoha had moved to a position well suited for keeping guard outside her Master's tent, her eyes eventually closing, but but she slipped easily in and out of sleep as she had for years.


In her ere occasional waking hours that night, the girl couldn't help but begin to think about her position. She had always served, and liked to think that her actions would always go on to benefit others, but something niggled at her mind like a leech, sucking and drawing her attention unto it. It was Lady Aleida and Master Prince Ceril's affections for each other. It wasn't a jealousy at all, not a yearning for Master Prince Ceril's affections. No instead it settled into her mind as a subtle yet blatant 'what about you'?


Ever since arriving in the lands Konoha had constantly put others before herself, and yet even she longed for more, not a lot mind you, but just enough. It grew lonely some nights, and she was such a stranger in these lands. She looked different, dressed different, spoke different, and as such she knew others thought differently of her. She hid behind her actions and those she served, as it was comfortable and safe for her. She served with little regard for her own status, always viewing that the higher ranked you were, the less you could do, and yet time and time again Master Prince Ceril proved that despite position, he could stand amongst the common rabble and get his hands dirty. So outside of her debt to the Prince for her life, why did she keep such a low position when it made finding her own comforts so much more toilsome? Would not finding love or some other life fulfilling ideal be easier if she had the free time and monies to do so? She already owned a small fortune, and once returning from this endeavour, she would no doubt be more than laden down with her earnings in life. Perhaps, just perhaps, upon return she might ask Master Prince Ceril for a small amount of leave. A month, maybe two, enough to think about what she wanted to do in life, whilst still serving the Prince in his.


A shuffling of footsteps drew Konha's eyes open, and she already knew that it was far to early for it to be time to rise. Following the noise, the oriental rounded a building to find Arabella, one of the castle servants she worked with. It seemed she taken roost on a small wall, apparently unable to remain asleep.


"You are soon in awakening, Arabella," she spoke softly as she came up to the woman's side and took a set of her own, "Thoughts of troublesomeness have you bothered? Or simply feeling needs to partner myself in the twilight time?"


@Elle Joyner

 

[Doctor Jax]

Marnia Belhund -- Esquire -- Ashlow, in her tent


After the tiff with Edina, Marnie had been quiet around her master and teacher for quite a while, ruminating on her own idiocy and hastiness. She should've known better, of course, but it seemed that sometimes her soft heart could get the better of her. One day, a knife was going to end up buried in the middle of it, if she wasn't careful. In any case, she'd gone to dinner with Edina, and by then Marnie's uncharacteristically quiet demeanor fell away as she was filled with food and firelight, joking with Edina now and again about some of the members of the party -- like the older soldier, Kepheus if she'd heard right, who'd practically knocked his brains out, tripping into a tree trunk. Then, of course, she also poked fun at that bear of a man, Fendrel, sitting across the camp, careful to jab out of earshot, lest she end up with one of his swords through her gut before the night was out. Along with a soft heart, Marnie could have a, uh, loose tongue.


She'd listened to the prince's rousing speech, and as she did, she surveyed the others in the camp -- Konoha was sitting nearby (was that a black eye? a split lip?! how had those happened?!), looking pensive as she sat with her stew. The servants were likewise quiet, though they seemed pleased with the prince's speech. And Sir Alexander...


Marnie herself was not very familiar with him, only knowing that Edina had had some kind of falling out with him. Even though she was a squire to the knight, some things were better kept personal, and that was something Marn had chosen to leave alone. He looked haunted, the firelight outlining the hollows in his face, and Marnie wondered what it was that troubled him. She dared not ask, though -- people could be possessive of their demons, and he was a man she would have to work with carefully, one day.


Soon, the 'festivities' reached their end. The night had fallen, and the bed rolls called their siren song. Perhaps tomorrow would yield better results than the events that had transpired.


She could be optimistic, right?


- Nightfall -


She was running, and running, and running on her long, long legs, but it seemed that they were stuck in the mud, for no matter how fast she ran, she couldn't move fast enough. The fog surrounded her, thicker than pea soup, and she dragged the air into her burning, tired lungs. What was she running from? And what was she running after? She looked ahead, hands outstretched as she tried to feel her way through the mist, her heart pounding. In the mist, she could hear the voices of her brothers, all three, all handsome and strong and gone.


"Come, Marnie..." "Marnie, where are you...?"


"I'm right here, Marn, why can't you see me?" "Baby sister, you're going the wrong way."


"Where are you going? Help!"


"Don't leave us, Marnie!"


She stumbled and fell, skidding across the mud, and she looked back, heaving. Her foot was tangled in the remains of what had been armor, ankle deep in something... And Baldwin's face, attached to a neck above her ankle, stared at her with slack jaw, eyes open.


"Marnia."


She woke up, eyes open wide to stare at the ceiling of the tent. Her blankets were twisted around her legs, and sweat dripped down her face as she sat up and held herself, her stomach churning. She put her face in her hands and rubbed her eyes, trying to rub away the look on Baldwin's face... She needed a walk. A walk would do her some good. A walk would clear her mind, dust away the cobwebs in her skull. She flung back her covers and tiptoed out, putting her feet into her boots as quietly as she could manage. She did knock over Eddie's sword, but she thought maybe the knight was still asleep.


Still in her travel clothes, she took a short stroll of the camp, and she briefly saw Konoha sitting in front of the prince's tent, talking with another servant that she didn't know. She would approach, perhaps offer some salve for that split lip, but it seemed they were in conversation. Instead, she walked the quiet streets of rundown Ashlow, soon close enough to watch the mist of the Veil creep along the ground, swirling like some living thing waiting to devour them, not two miles away.


"I'm not afraid of you," Marnie said to it, her brow furrowing. Then, after a moment she added, "Or at least, I'm not going to be."


"Lo, dearest. Up early?"


Marnia jumped at the sudden voice behind her, and she whipped around to see a small, old woman carrying a rather large basket of sewing materials, especially in the form of thread. She put a hand over her hammering heart, and Marnie looked around, realizing they were the only people for leagues around. She swallowed and nodded.


"Care to buy some thread from an old woman? I've bolts of cloth as well, in my cart. Headed to the city from far off Yewtown, and thought I'd stop by and ask. The answer is always no if you don't ask," the old woman said, and Marnia frowned. For a moment she almost said she had no need of thread, but then she looked back at the Veil, trailing off as it did. She swallowed and looked back at the old woman, her wizened smile as endearing as any grandmother's. An idea began forming in Marnie's addled, morning-ridden brain, and she said, "I'll take a whole skein of thread, if ye've got one fer sellin'."


With hesitance, she handed over a handful of coins to the old woman for a large skein of yellow-gold thread. She watched the old lady toddle off to the camp in the predawn light, headed straight for the two servants to ply her wares, and Marnia shook her head in confusion. Now, what had she done that for...?

Spoiler

@Veirrianna Valentine @Space Cowboy Ein @Elle Joyner

 

[Poe]

Lady Aleida

​

“I can always count on you for a necessary dose of optimism,” Aleida laughed softly as she laid back on her own bedroll. She was sure Ceril had a thousand things for her to do and assist with, but for a moment she wanted nothing more than to relax her tired bones and shake the uncertainty from her core. While most saw this as a mission for glory, Aleida knew the following weeks would do nothing but test them beyond anything they could have fathomed. Yes, it was necessary to keep some hope that perhaps The Veil had only confused and misdirected the search parties and villagers, but there had to be something more.


And Aleida would not be so ignorant as to let the vulnerabilities of her heart get in the way of discovering what it was so that she could ensure no one ever felt the pain of watching the ones you loved dearest disappear behind a dense fog.


“Oh,” Aleida smiled, masking the depth of her struggle with the presence of The Veil. There was no reason to worry anyone and she had learned from a lifetime of living with her mother and growing beside Ceril that there were just some things you didn’t discuss. Some realities too painful to fully realize until you’re drowning in it. “A constant abuser of your nerves, am I?”


She let out a warm laugh, “Yes, well, that does sound like me, doesn’t it?”





- Sunset -


Shortly after dozing off, Aila had shaken Aleida from her nap to join the rest of the entourage around the campfire for supper. While she was not hungry, Aleida knew that her place was beside Ceril, an organized front was important to a group who would spend the next few weeks facing the unknown together. There had to be a camaraderie — not necessarily of friendship, but one of survival. Aleida did not pray with them, instead she chose to keep her head down and stare at the stew before her before Ceril spoke.


In truth, she loved hearing Ceril speak. As children, he would rave about one day being king and practicing royal decrees. He had never wanted to sound anything but well-versed and prepared because, after all, his speeches would be heard by everyone across the kingdom. Watching him now, several feet taller with broadened shoulders and a hopeful glint in his eye, was a sight Aleida could not take her eyes off of even if she tried. There was no doubt in her heart that he would be the king Regalis deserved and she had known from that very first day of hearing his dreams laid out before her that she would do anything in her power to help them achieve them. Even if it meant living at twenty-five, unwed, with both bark and bite, but not a clue as to how to be a lady.


At the end of his speech, Aleida slid her food to the side of her and leaned her back against the log in front of which they sat. Her hands quickly found her glass of wine and after a brief toast, brought it to her lips for a generous sip…or two. Her eyes rolled at his playful nudge, his words playful as they often got when they were alone. “Who knows, maybe next time you’ll be able to give a speech without wine,” Aleida quipped back, taking another sip of her wine, “for your audiences, I mean. Got to keep them awake somehow.”


Nudging him back, she let out a melodious laugh and relaxed her tense muscles. It was one of her favorite ways to spend an evening, drunk by Ceril’s side. They’d snuck around a million times before, drinking whatever they could and musing about adventures deep into the evening and early into the morning. “But really though,” she cleared her throat, an amused smile on her lips and a playfulness deep in her tone, “Not bad for the ‘bastard son of the Ambryn throne.’”


(@Coin @Nine)

 

[Coin]

PRINCE CERIL


"That'll be King Bastard to you, Allie-dear," Ceril corrected her and let out hollow chuckle before finishing his glass of wine.


No matter their surroundings or extra company, Ceril always felt at home in the presence of Aleida. Despite their friendship not having the most pristine public image, due in part to their largely taboo, rowdy and unprofessional behavior together, it was precisely that behavior that drew him towards her. Even though Ceril was distant from his father and the crown in general, the formalities of being royalty suffocated him. With Aleida, the Prince was liberated -- without reason to wear the mask of his noble lineage and above all, he knew that she felt the same around him. That was precisely why the Prince trusted Aleida more than he would trust any knight of the order, or even his own elder siblings.


After the night's liveliness died down after supper, servants began to tidy the campsite and soldiers started to fold in for the night. However, Ceril and Aleida remained in nearly the same location since supper started. They'd hardly had enough to drink to be drunkenly stumble about, but the warm, haziness of the wine had definitely begun to settle in their minds. Ceril was the first to move as he stood slowly to ensure he wouldn't topple over and wandered in the direction of his tent, nodding silently for Aleida to follow.


A stone throw away from his tent, the two found a shred of privacy among their company, no one having paid enough mind to see them quietly slip away.


"What do you think?" Ceril asked ambiguously, brushing a strand of rogue away from his forehead, "Truthfully, do you think the court will finally hear me out when I petition for more resources after we get behind this damnable fog? Or do you think me a madman like the warlords and noblemen who we plead men and provisions from? I simply must hear it from you before we find ourselves doomed in a malicious low-hanging cloud."


There were subtle hints of playfulness and jest in Ceril's voice but his curiosity was all true. Without Aleida's support, he would have gladly rode back to the capital in a mere moment's notice. With her support, and he would step into the Veil even if it were just Aleida and him, unarmed and ill prepared. Of all the people in Regalis, few could twist his thumb like that woman could.


(@BeyondPoetry)

 

[Poe]

Lady Aleida

​

“Oh, of course, how silly of me,” Aleida let a warm laugh ripple through her body before she managed to finish her glass of wine. The first of many that evening, to be sure. “King Bastard, then.”


After about an hour of so, supper had seemed to die down and everyone else ready to retire for the evening. Aleida did not blame them as the journey ahead was more so mentally taxing more than anything. There was no doubt in her mind that the density of the fog would grow to be something of a nuisance before becoming far more psychologically harming. Spending too much time in the dark meant forgetting what it is to feel light. But some of the company seemed rather content with their lot in life and for that Aleida was grateful. Their presence would be needed in the coming days.


An involuntary groan passed through her lips as she watched Ceril stand and nod for her to follow. She was not a lightweight by any means, but there was a distinct difference in size between her and Ceril and for some reason she always felt it necessary to keep up with him. It usually resulted in a bit of a stumble, a muttered curse, and a smooth recovery — all of which she managed as she followed him beyond the center of the camp to a little area a handful of paces from his tent. “What do I think?” she repeated as she ran a hand over her forehead before settling onto her hip and crossing her arms against her chest. “Assuming we get behind the fog and survive long enough to petition…I think they would have to. Even if the council does not support you as thoroughly as you would like, it would still be the first word sent from behind The Veil. Do you know what that would do for the people? What that would do for this village?”


“They would not be able to refuse at that point, I’m not sure the people would let them,” she shrugged but her words were entirely truthful. Ceril knew how much she trusted him and that she would do anything to help him find his rightful place to the throne by any means. “But whether or not you're a madman is an entirely different conversation,” she teased a bit, “I never met any quite as mad as you. But I think that might be exactly what we need right now.”


“Honorable and righteous men have ventured into that fog and never returned,” Aleida mentioned in a soft voice, coming as close as she ever would to talking about what she, too, had lost to the fog. “So maybe we need more than that. Yes, we’ve got your knights and squires, but also dedicated servants, some of the best auxiliary soldiers in the land and at the end of it all, if you still need something more, you’ve got me, right? So the way I see it — the only man who could command so many different people would be, well…a King.”


“Or me,” she added, just to lighten the mood. “I could definitely do it. Queen Aleida, the most fearsome monarch to ever hold the throne. A bit of a drunk though, or so I’ve heard.”


(@Coin)

 

[Elle Joyner]

Arabella Dane

She'd only sat for a few minutes before footsteps resonated behind her. Turning, she spotted a familiar face, a woman from the palace, a fellow servant. She'd only worked with the woman a handful of times, but vaguely recalled she worked close with the Prince. She was kind, and dedicated and had always treated the other servants with respect. As the woman settled down beside her, Arabella managed a small, weary smile and a shrug of the shoulders.


"I don't sleep well... I'm sorry if I woke you. I'll only be out here a few minutes more... I just needed some air." Shifting her gaze, her eyes fell on the Veil again and her brows knit, as she squinted through the darkness, "What do you suppose is on the other side? I suppose it doesn't really matter... we'll find out tomorrow. It's just curious... so much strife, so much tragedy, from something that should be so simple. So innocent."


Shaking her head, she turned back to the woman, "You've faith in him? In the Prince...? That he'll get us through? He'll get us home...?"


Looking up, she spotted the older woman coming their way and a brow quirked. It was hours yet, before day break, and it seemed an odd time to be peddling wares, but then, with so many lives lost behind the Veil and so many desperately struggling to survive in the wake... Arabella had done some uncharacteristic things she would never otherwise entertain doing, before her father's death, just to ensure a meal or a roof overhead. Selling thread, even at such an hour, was hardly of note.


"Bit of thread, bit of cloth? I've traveled a ways and it won't cost ya more than a coin or two..."


Frowning, Arabella reached down to where her coin purse was kept, but realized a moment later she'd left it in her tent, "I'm sorry... I haven't any money."

 

[Effervescent]

Alexander Vallane


- Nightfall -
​

Across the fields just a mile or so away, the Veil clung to the horizon line like a strip of ebbing grey that carried a faint glow from the moonlight. The gathering felt somewhat casual, as if their destiny was not closing in on them and they had nothing to fear. Alexander caught himself in the strange flux between calm and edge, as if his mind could not decide if this was the end or if they were the answer to saving the people of Regalis. Regardless, the knight could not sleep. His thoughts kept him awake without threat of fatigue, and so he patrolled the perimeter of Ashlow to give himself a task until his mind could rest easy.


Despite his self-absorbed thoughts, he managed to keep a watchful eye on the auxiliary troops during the bonfire and their modest meal. Kepheus, the seasoned veteran, had drunken himself into a stupor to the point where Alexander was concerned for his well being in the morning. Would the man even be able to function efficiently with the coming sickness from his inebriation? He kept a steady pace as his feet carried him from the grass to the muddy road now crisp with frost as the Autumn night temperature dropped. It was a chill brisk enough to nip at his nose and bring his plate armor to an uncomfortable cold that began to ache his muscles. He continued on, interested in finding the veteran known as Kepheus to address his state of being.


The quiet voices of a transaction caught Alexander's attention as he walked across the empty streets of Ashlow. Edina's squire had just completed a transaction with what appeared to be an old woman, a large woven basket dangling from the crook of her arm that overflowed with materials. The woman was shuffling away by the time Alexander turned, and instead of pursuing the old trader, he stopped before the squire.


His brow furrowed in speculation as he approached the lanky brunette, his gaze scanning from her face to the item in which she held within her grasp. Alexander's body turned somewhat as he came to a halt before Edina's squire, his brown hair a mess about the crown of his head. Due to the crisp Autumn air, he had elected to forgo the formalities of adorning his helm, which only served to display his disheveled mop in a care-free fashion.


"It is not so customary to be involved with transactions so late at night," Alexander stated as he looked back up at Marnia. "What is it the woman gave you?"


@Doctor Jax

 

[Pequeno Burraidh]

"Fear. Believe that fear rules other side. Fear of unknown, fear of death. Little else, just fear."


The next set of questions were something she hadn't quite expected, least ways not from another in her position. That said, she wasn't going to judge harshly. It was understandable for others to question things. After all, her belief was right, fear was what often ruled when people don't have the knowledge to stand fast in the face of danger. It took a great deal of courage and inner strength, and she refused to fault anyone who lacked it. Looking into the swirling mists before her, she finally found words to suit her answer.


"Yes. More than just Master Prince Ceril though. Having faith in self. One of the hardest tasks in the world is to having faith in self, but is important of tasks none less. You should having more faith in self, Arabella, is good for you." Konoha finished, smiling at the youthful servant that stood next to her.


As she finished speaking an elderly lady, one who seemed oddly early in peddling her wares, but perhaps had simply owned the foresight to expect to be able to peddle to those up watching for danger in the night. If anything it was smart, and even as Arabella stated that she had not the coin for anything Konoha was already reaching into her coin purse, relieving a number of small silver coins, as opposed to the usual bronze most carried. She then lifted a bolt of cloth, unravelling it and holding it next to Arabella's body, and then her arms and legs, not uttering a word before pointing to three other bolts and picking out four spools of thread, leaving nine silver coins in the older woman's and a large, amazed smile across her face.


"Faith in self , Arabella, you're having more strength than you know."


Turning and walking away with a smile, Konoha had work to go try and finish before they set out later that morning.

 

[Doctor Jax]

Marnia Belhund -- Esquire -- outside of Ashlow


The young woman pondered the long skein of string she had in her hand. The idea had been almost preposterous, absolutely silly. It was something out of a child's tale, the kind of thing a mother would tell her young ones before bed.


Yet she could not forget her mother's words as she tucked in with her elder brothers snoozing in their own bed. "And the maiden handed the golden-haired boy a skein of yarn, to help him find his way back..."


She almost jumped as she heard the crisp clank of metal on metal. Recognizing the sound of armor and certain it was Edina (the lady could get up awfully early -- a failing, truly, in Marnie's eyes, because it meant she had to be up early with her), she quickly straightened her bedraggled travel clothes, picked her teeth, and licked a finger to smooth down her unruly, unkempt hair. Satisfied that she looked more like a squire than a pauper, she stood at attention and was about to say something along the lines of 'G'mornin' m'lady' until she caught a glimpse of the person actually approaching.


To her relief, it was Sir Alexander. Eddie was good company, but during the mornings, she just seemed... a little out of sorts, despite being an early bird. Perhaps it was age catching up to her. At any right, Marnia relaxed a little. He probably hadn't slept well either, if those circles were anything to go buy. The man acted like there was a sword dangled over his head constantly, and Marnie wasn't exactly sure why. His name was famous, after all -- Vallane was known through the whole land because of the deeds of his grandfather. Surely, he could act with a little more... grace?


He spoke to her directly, perhaps the first time he had ever done so. Marnie was sure he'd probably spoken to her before that, as after all her lady was a colleague of his, but she was unsure of when or where they would've ever had a discourse. She coughed to clear her throat, aware that she was speaking to another knight, not just an angry country bumpkin or Edina in private. She had to appear at the very least competent.


"Er, she was sellin' her wares 'n she decided 'at now was a good time because, ah... well, anyways, I bought this ream a thread off a' her. She's an old lass, and it's difficult ta spin when yer that old, and well..." Marnie wondered if he would laugh at her idea, the idea that had sparked in her head the minute she'd seen a skein of yellowish thread sitting in the basket. She shrugged and rolled her eyes noncommittally as she tacked on, "... 'n I thought perraps I'd tie it to a tree out 'ere and lead it when we leave ta go through the Veil. Y'know. So if I ever get my sorry bum lost, I'll jis reel this puppy in and lead me back out."


Sorry bum!! Puppy! So much for competence. She sounded more of a bumpkin than the dignified citizens of Ashlow! And this idea, pah! Others had probably tried it one time or 'nother. She'd never heard that they had, but who knew? It was a dumb idea, a child's fantasy.


"But, y'know, I, ah, I may not. Prince Ceril's go' himself a plan, pro'lly, to get us outta the fog," Marnie hastily said, twiddling the skein on its wooden rod between her index fingers.

Spoiler

@Effervescent

 

[Coin]

PRINCE CERIL


"Oh, but of course, your ladyship," Ceril tucked one hand behind him and bowed like one of his servants would, "Your prowess and mastery on the field is an inspiration to all marshals in the many lands, my Queen."


Ceril's lips formed an amused grin as he righted himself and placed a friendly hand on her shoulder, "Thank you, Allie-dear, for being with me on this expedition -- it truly means everything to me. Now then, off to bed with us, we've an important day ahead of us in the morn."


Ceril leaned forward and gave his friend a brief embrace and a nod of approval before returning back to the campsite and retiring into his tent for the night.


Much to Ceril's dismay, Aleida's promising words and even the wine settling in his blood did not help him slip into sleep. The Prince lay still in his cot staring at the stitching patterns on the ceiling of his tent, listening to the rustle of leaves, the crackling of the campfire and the shuffling of guards taking shifts through the night. He ran his plot for the Veil over and over again in his head until he dreamt of consuming fog when he did manage to fall into a brief, but fitful slumber.


(@BeyondPoetry)


---


DAYBREAK -- 18th DAY OF THE 10th MONTH, 941 R.C.


Per usual, Ceril woke before the sun rose. The favorite part of his morning routine would be the slow and meticulous process of donning his plate armor. Each part fit perfectly with the next and formed flawlessly around his body, encasing him in a skin of engraved steel. By the time Ceril left his tent, the sun had yet to make a direct appearance on the horizon, but the day's light had begun to pour life and color onto the land. Normally, a commander would have had his subordinate officer sound the horn to signal his troops to wake and prepare to depart, but Ceril preferred more direct leadership. He unholstered his war horn from his riding belt and sounded a long, single low note that pierced and echoed through the hilly traverse that was Ashlow.


As his soldiers began to stir in their tents and bedrolls, Ceril made to prepare his own personal gear and affix them to his horse and pack. Per Regalian tradition, he was the first on his horse and waited patiently for his subordinates to disassemble camp and fall in order in front of him before they set off for the day. True to his prediction, the other half of the soldiers he had requisitioned would never show and no more food and equipment would arrive either. It didn't matter to Ceril, he would be successful in his mission regardless of foul play or sullied hope in his potential. He had to succeed.


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

 

[Space Cowboy Ein]

Lady Edina Maplecroft - Royal Knight - Ashlow Outskirts


Edina just huffed at Marnie's response. The girl was always so...stubborn. But still she had a duty to the young woman. After what had happened to her family, it was hard to say no to her father. At the very least the Knight needed something to keep prying eyes from her own untended matters, mostly that of marriage. At the least, the single Lady was stalling for time as she was very picky about choosing a husband, as she certainly was not going to merge her family into the name of another by taking a high noble male. But then marrying below her place in society would also be frowned upon, and she had not been on the courting scene for some time now. She had a prime candidate once, but those times were long gone.


She left her Squire to her business as she retreated to her tent for the evening until it was time for their supper. It seemed everyone was going to be on equal footing for this evening, what with the entire entourage being gathered around the campfire to eat, and everyone getting equal servings. It was enjoyable to say the least. She remained silent but had a good appreciation for the speech that the Prince gave, when prompted she raised her wine glass and joined in with the chorus of the others calling out... "Long Live Regalis!" And so she took her own sip of the wine, and sooner than later, some of the edge came off, and while she wasn't much to chat with the rest of the part, she had decided against giving Marnie the second round of her lecture so soon. She eventually retreated to her tent and was lucky enough to get out of most of her inhibiting pieces of armor before falling/snaking into her collection of sheets. Crowds that weren't engaged in battle weren't entirely her style, and the last thing she needed was her mild drunkenness and disdain for over stimulation cause a public row with Alex. She slept right on through the night, even past Marnie's stumbling about in the middle of it all. Instead, she managed to dream of home, the way it was before the death of her father, prancing about and making trouble like the young woman she was. It was all such a distant memory, back when everything still made sense in her world, at the very least it brought a smile to her face till....





DAYBREAK


Edina's father always used to talk about early to bed and early to rise. It was always a bit of nonsense when she was younger, but now Edina had learned to live by those words just as he did. And so, just by the break of dawn, her eyes popped open and her smile turned back into a flat line. No amount of good dreams could hold back the immediate realization that today would be the day. She stretched out a bit in her bedroll before nudging Marnie awake. "Come, we've got work to do. Get dressed and start dissembling the tent." She ordered lowly while she began to don her armor, requesting her squire's assistance when needed. Before long she was properly outfitted and was atop Covil in no time. She rode slowly up to Prince Ceril's left flank and nodded towards him. "My Prince.." She said, offering a short bow to the young man. She looked around and noted that the second part of their small convoy never exactly did show up, which caused her to released a long sigh. "It's never so easy it seems...Even during times like these, court politics will find a way to make things difficult...still." She turned her head back to the light of the rising sun reflecting off of the Veil, turning it into a silent and flaming wall. As if it didn't ever seem menacing enough. "With any luck we won't need them. But the situation leaves a bad taste in my mouth." Despite her voiced concerns, Edina's face was set with determination. She had meant what she said to the soldiers the previous day. Whatever lay within the Veil, it certainly couldn't stand to a coordinated fighting force. Or so she hoped.


@Coin @Doctor Jax

 

[Elle Joyner]

Arabella Dane

"Faith in self..." She'd repeated it, after the other servant had wandered off, only half aware of the transaction that had transpired between her and the older peddler woman. It was an interesting concept -- not entirely foreign, but a philosophy certainly easier said than followed. It wasn't that she didn't believe herself capable, but in the end one could only do so much... Life was unpredictable, and whatever turns it took, she might not have the control she needed to ensure a pleasant end... Faith in self was a powerful motivator, but so were fear and doubt.


Slipping down from her perch on the retaining wall, Arabella shook her head and started back to her tent. She wouldn't sleep, not after the dreams, but it would be foolish to stay out in the cold much longer, if she was to be any use the following morning.


Daybreak

Morning dawned a dull haze, the scent of rain lingering in the cool breeze. Rolling from her cot, rubbing her weary eyes, Arabella slipped on her apron, her cloak and her shoes before she left her tent. She needn't look for long before she found where she was most needed. The party had already begun to gather, and it seemed they would waste no time in getting started.


It was a nerve wracking thing, considering what they were about to do. They were, quite literally, walking into the unknown, and for many of them it very well might be the last thing they ever saw. But it was a chance... a chance to alter the fates of the rest of Regalis, a chance to save those who were lost, to reunite them with their families. A chance to prove despite station and rank that even the humblest of servant girls could do something great...


Approaching the small gathering, Arabella looked towards the Veil with a renewed sense of nervousness, but also a determination, spurred by the words of Konoha. Perhaps it was true, perhaps she did possess more strength than she knew.

 

[Chordling]

.

 

[Effervescent]

Alexander Vallane


- Nightfall -
​

His dark eyes held its stern stare as he listened to Marnia's plan. Golden thread to find their way back home. It was child-like hope, and as much as he wanted to explain how it logically would not work, he didn't have the heart to break it. Alexander's expression softened, his plated shoulders relaxing to a slump as he slowly closed his eyes in brief pause. When he opened them once again, his features were less concerned and formal allowing his empathy to show through. As much as he let his work and all that entails consume his everyday life, he had to let go of the lesser technicalities in such a time as this. Hope of coming home is just the right mindset needed to succeed. Without hope, where would they find motivation to even try?


"Tie the thread around a tree closer to the Veil," Alexander suggested. "And you'll have to do it quickly when we get near. We won't be waiting for you, and we don't want you to be left behind before we enter the fog. The Prince has a plan, and we will return, but the extra help to find our way back may prove useful. Be sure to get some rest before daybreak."


Alexander offered Marnia a short nod before heading away towards his own tent within the campsite just outside of Ashlow. Even if he could not find enough solace to sleep, he could at least undress from his heavy plated armor and give his muscles a rest. The cluster of tents in various sizes and drab colors still carried the hushed voices of those who could not find rest. Pushing back the flap of his tent, he exhaled a heavy sigh and began to unclasp each piece of his armor lethargically.

- Daybreak -

​

The night had been chilly and the morning just as crisp. Alexander had bundled comfortably within the layers of his bedroll, his body relaxing in the warmth and his mind unwilling to relinquish possibly the last comfort he'd feel for some time. At the sound of Ceril's warhorn he groaned and pushed away the bedroll and lazily dragged himself to his set of armor carefully placed along the far corner of the tent upon a bear hide. Adorning his armor on his own was time consuming and sometimes precarious to insure its practicality was met.


Eventually, with the aid of a couple of random auxiliary soldiers who took to mornings better, his gear and tent was packed and placed within the cart along with the rest of the supplies. Alexander's brow furrowed at the apparent lack of additional supplies and troops scheduled to meet them in Ashlow. His pause was momentary dwelling on the notion for as little time as possible so as to prevent his obsessive mind from straying too far from what lay ahead. Alexander set his jaw as he mounted his steed, his head inclining in quiet greeting to Prince Ceril. He would remain quiet as Edina spoke of her own observations and thoughts of their situation.

 

[Poe]

Lady Aleida



​

“Careful, Ceril,” Aleida smirked as he pulled away from their brief embrace, “that almost sounded affectionate.” She simply watched as the Prince slowly made his way towards his tent to retire for the evening. While she teased him endlessly, there was one fact that Aleida could not refute — after so many had pitied for her for loss, Ceril had been the only one to respect her space and give her the opportunity to do something other than mourn. While her mother tried day in and out to convince others that her husband had to be alive, Aleida had shut herself down and poured herself into everything she could. She’d spent many a night outside and looking up at the stars just thinking and living in her own silence.


Even now, miles and miles away from home, she looked up for those same stars and wondered how long it would be before she saw them again.


The evening was a bit chilly, especially considering how far she stood from the fire, but it was the crackle of the flames and the light wind that mesmerized her. Soon enough, her gaze drifted from the stars off into the distance where she could hardly make out The Veil. Everything looked the same in darkness, but she knew its presence and stared for a few moments. If her father was in there, she would find him and in that moment she decided that knowing his fate, no matter what transpired, would be better than never knowing. She also made a silent promise to herself that this would be the last time she let her thoughts wander. While she did not know of her father’s fate, she did know that Ceril was far too stubborn to travel alone. He was her priority and any answers she found along the way, she decided, would be a blessing.


With a sight, Aleida turned on her heel nearly an hour after her conversation with Ceril had ended. Aila was most certainly asleep by now, as was most of the camp, so she kept her footsteps as light as possible as she made her way back to her tent for the evening.





——


Daybreak


Aleida had never been an early riser. As a child, her mother tried time and time again to pull her from bed by her ankles and drag her into chores. While they were, in fact, well off, it had been her mother and father’s intention to make her as self-sufficient as possible. Her mother was the daughter of a bowyer, after all, and had worked from a young age assisting him when she could until she met Aleida’s father, Thomas. After that, she fell in step with the women of high society and wanted nothing but the same for her little girl with wild hair. Aleida never budged, groaning and fighting every moment her mother dragged her to the kitchen or, even worse, into the bath. The morning of her first appearance at court had been marred with hours of preparation beginning nearly an hour before dawn.


She hated mornings.


Sitting up from her bedroll, Aleida rubbed at her eyes childishly as she let out a yawn. Aila, per usual, was already awake and busying herself with preparations for their leave. The sound of Ceril’s horn bellowed through the camp. “I’m going to break that horn if it’s the last thing I do,” Aleida mumbled and let a yawn pass through her lips. While she was not a morning person, there was something about Aleida post-slumber that made her seem more, well, feminine. Her usual loosely braided hair was down, hanging over her shoulders in beautiful natural curls, but she gathered them up quickly as it was not practical to have such long hair without a means of holding it back.


By the time she was changed and her hair pulled back, Aleida was trudging her way out of the tent with her bow in tow and took her place on Rowan’s back beside Ceril. A lack of amusement painted her expression as she glanced over at the Prince who seemed nothing but pleased with the hour at hand. “Wipe that look off your face. I hate that traveling with you means mornings,” she complained, another yawn escaping her lips.


(@Coin @Nine)

 

[korigon]

Nightfall-


The chatter of the fire-pit had soon vanished, replaced by the hurrying forms of servants rushing to and fro to tidy up. The fire still burned brightly, loyal and ardent even in the midst of the dark night. Most of the entourage had retreated to their own tents to talk in hushed tones, while others had just collapsed into their beds. Kepheus still remained by the fire as Aleida and Ceril backed away into the shadows, though he did not witness it. It was not until he had given up on staring down the sky and had counted their party, that he realized the pair were missing. He made his way back to his tent in a tottering manner, with his unglued and anxious mind inventing far-fetched conclusions of what the couple were doing. Finally, he arrived at his insignificant palace, and indignant thoughts filled his head about sharing the already small space. Putting aside the discomfort for the time, Kepheus succumbed to the drowsiness which had plagued him for the day, and finally rested.


__


Daybreak-


Against his usual tradition of waking at daybreak, Kephues awoke atleast two hours before. He prepared to don his protective garments, only to discover he had fallen asleep with them on. Dismayed and still sluggish, He made his way into Ashlow to wake himself up. The streets were dark and deserted, a heavy blanket of dark-blue all around them, as he wandered around aimlessly. Repulsion settled onto his face as Kepheus surveyed the grimy roads. Mud caked the streets, a mucky aftermath of the rain that had fallen earlier in the morning. The poverty of Ashlow was nearly unbearable, and he silently considered if the Prince would assist the town if they returned from the trip. Ceril Abryn was a noble, and adding on to that, a prince. Kepheus had no doubts that the Prince wanted the throne. Like this expedition was a chance for Kepheus to take a step back from military life, it was a chance for Ceril to take a step into prominence and maybe, just maybe, a grab at the throne. Or perhaps, the man just wanted to do some good. Perhaps he viewed himself as a knight in shining armor, rescuing the land of a terrible fate. Whatever his motives, Kepheus had sworn to continue on with the expedition, and continue on he would.


His heavy-lidded eyes now vigilant and open, Kepheus made his way out of the town, enduring the odd glances of freshly-awaken villagers. The horn was soon sounded, and Kepheus awkwardly made his way in line, doing his best to appear that he had been away on a quick walk.

 

[Doctor Jax]

Marnia Belhund -- Esquire -- with Edina and Prince Ceril's inner circle on the road


She'd expected some kind of chiding rebuke or some such cold reminder of reality. After all, what she was proposing was, indeed, preposterous. Indeed, even she saw that, but there was a charm to the fantasy, that by a simple act she could singlehandedly save wise prince Ceril and everyone else around her.


And maybe, just maybe, it was because she was very, very afraid. A mere glint of a possibility. Just a little bit. She looked back at the Veil in the predawn light, swallowing as her mouth went dry. Not afraid, not afraid of you, not going to be afraid of you...


And then came Alexander's response. Her eyebrows rose with surprise at his suggestion, and for some reason, it warmed the cockles of her heart. So he wasn't such a stubborn, insensitive mule after all! For all of a moment, he seemed a little bit softer, maybe lighter, and she shrugged with a small, hidden smile as she contemplated the skein of thread in her hand. Would it last for miles? No. But maybe it didn't have to. His approval gave her boldness, and she looked up at him, only to find that he had begun walking back to his tent, his shoulders still slumped as if the world had fallen across his back. Her brows came together, and she headed back to her own tent. On her way, she made sure to give Konoha a quick smile and a wave, a small congratulations that she was allowed to stay as well as her prowess with a stick.


Soon, she was back in bed, and, despite her hesitance, managed to find rest. In her hand, she still held her skein with the tenacity of a child.


-- Day Break --


Marnia slumped in the seat, her eyes almost comically haggard and her face set in a grouchy expression. Her hair had been very hastily bound into a braid, and her clothes looked a little... ruffled, to say the least. Edina had woken her before dawn, unaware that Marnia had had a total of three hours' sleep. She'd somehow managed to shuffle Edina's things together into a semi-organized pile in the wagon, all while sporting the look of a ghoul. She was sure that if she stared at a pot of milk with her current look, it would curdle on sight.


She coaxed the wagon of small supplies forward, aware that they were several wagons short. Obviously, the capital had seen it fit not to 'waste resources' on a doomed mission. Pah! Fat lot of luck being the prince was!


She looked about her, seeing several auxiliary soldiers on foot, and she looked at her empty seat. Edina was on her own horse, near Prince Ceril, and she was almost directly behind that inner circle. She knew she'd be bored most this trip, staring at nothing but fog the whole way. Who knew what lay behind that blasted mist? And not a bard in sight to play them a merry tune to while away the time, either.


On a whim, she called out, "Oi! Any a ya blokes wan' ta rest yer legs and sit up here wiv me? I could do with some company o'er here."


Her speech was mostly directed to the nearest people she could see, that being the redhead she'd pissed off before and the older gentleman who'd been in the booze up to his nose. Any of the servants were welcome to sit up with her as well -- as long as someone got up here and gave her a reason to run her mouth.

Spoiler

@Veirrianna Valentine @Swimswamswom @Elle Joyner @Effervescent

 

[Coin]

PRINCE CERIL


"Why, good morrow to you too, Lady Aleida," Ceril chortled, clearly amused, "I trust you slept well last night? We haven't time for napping on the road while we're past the Veil."


As troops and servants fell into order in front of him, he couldn't help but notice Edina's noble squire offer to ferry those on foot aboard her wagon and steed.


Ceril raised a gloved hand and called out to her loud enough so the rest of the entourage could hear his announcement as well, "Ho, Lady Marnia, patience now. Your steadfastness will be a boon to us in the coming days, but I've yet to issue orders. Soon as I prepare my troops, you shall have your time to offer conveyance."


"Now," Ceril tugged the reins on his horse to turn and address the whole of the company, "I believe it is safe to presume we will be surrounded in damnable fog the entire journey, making visual signals and troop formation an nuisance. Therefore, I've split the cohort into five groups of four -- in these smaller cells, you will be responsible for the immediate safety and security of those within your cell and your cell alone. Should our company be split in travel or haste, your first priority is to locate your cell and travel together to prevent unnecessary losses within the Veil. In addition, each cell will have a representative that will act as a leader in the absence of my direct command, these leaders will also carry a flute to assist in signaling other cells in the fog."


The Prince dug into his saddle bag and withdrew a bundle wrapped in fine furs, unraveling it to reveal several wooden flutes, "First cell will be myself, my servant, Lady Aleida and her handmaiden. Second cell will be Squire Marnia, Gwendalin Northwode, Arabella Dane and headed by Lady Edina. Third cell will be Kepheus Kerberos, Fendrel Wolfe and Amelia Bordel, lead by Sir Alexander..."


Ceril finished calling out the remaining cells and pocketed one flute for himself, holding the rest out in front of him, "Now, will the leaders of each cell come fetch a flute from me? We will be mimicking royal military horn signals with these flutes as a communication archetype. I ask not for you to be bards and soldiers, but do try not to sound horrendous with the instruments."


Managing to squeeze a few chuckles from the soldiers with his jest, Ceril handed out the remaining flutes and reoriented his steed.


"Let us depart!" Ceril spurred his horse on to a traveling trot and began to ride towards the Veil, leaving the town of Ashlow behind them.


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

 

[Chordling]

.

 

[Pequeno Burraidh]

The morning since leaving Arabella had gone relatively inconsequential and unassuming for Konoha. Finding a nice place to sit, she went to work on the cloth she'd purchased, letting her mind fall into a steady pace that blocked out little other than the soft whistling of the winds and the chirps of the early morning birds. It was a calm and peaceful time that allowed the exotic woman to fall in an almost trance like state of comfort as her hands did the work she had self-perfected over the years since she had first learned the designs of her people.


Of course this was not to say that she was making the clothes of her people for Arabella. Despite how simple and useless the designs may seem back at in her homeland, to her they were a personal treasure. Still, she stood tall knowing she served well and dressed to show that she was not some commoner simply working because she had to. While Arabella may not have shared the same story or same reasoning for her service, that did not mean she had to dress in clothes that, while not bad, certainly were not designed to ware away the weather or thorns of the woods. It wasn't too much time later that she'd already finished her her work.


Not a complicated piece in the slightest, but a very conventional one, the finished product was a flawless white, knee length tabard with sliver threading, a wide sash to hold it tight at the waist as well. Slight additions to the simplistic styling were a pair of triangle half-sleeves sewn onto the shoulders that offered further arm protection and a hood that could be pulled up should it rain. Te finishing touch was rubbing a waxy material into the fibres, letting it seal and harden. While the tabard did not become stiff entirely, it did add a layer of water-proofing to ensure it protected the clothes underneath, similar to how she treated her own clothes.


In the moments after finishing the product, it gave Konoha some time to think over why she was doing this for Arabella to begin with. It was spur of the moment, and nice, but knowing herself well, she wasn't going to lie to herself and say that there wasn't an underlying reason there somewhere. The girls work ethic was something to be admired for sure, and she easily worked just as hard as anyone else. But still, there was something about her eyes, how, while generally turned down, would occasionally show that glint of strength underneath. Konoha felt that the girl had the strength to rise, she just needed to see it. Besides, perhaps it was high time she decided to make a friend, especially given her thoughts of retirement, or at least hiatus, from her occupation on returning. She would have to make friends eventually if that were to be the case, right? So why not do something nice and start that on it way?


It eventually took the resounding of Master Prince Ceril's horn to draw Konoha's mind back the the real world, only just now noticing the rising sun and the others milling about, gearing up for the trip into the foggy unknown. Rising from her seat, Konoha couldn't help but imagine that if she made similar articles for the rest of the group, it would not be a bad investment. Still, it would be best to approach the idea at a later date.


As the oriental servant moved towards her Master's horse she took a moment to come along side Arabella with a smile, and laid the tabard over her shoulder before moving past and taking the strides needed to fall into march alongside Master Prince Ceril. As they grew closer to the mist Konoha could feel the apprehension growing amongst some of the other and began to hum a ditty in hopes to raise the spirits of those within ear shot.

 

[Effervescent]

Alexander Vallane

​

Alexander clasped the wooden flute in one hand, the other pulling at his reins to direct his horse to the right in a semi circle. The caravan began its journey at Prince Ceril's pace; a slow dirge towards the Veil set by the rhythmic cacophony of shoed hooves to the damp Autumn set earth. Ceril had given his orders, and he wished to locate those to which he would be responsible for. He was in charge of competent looking individuals, and was thankful they were not people rooted in his past. This assignment gave his mind ease as they carried toward the thick fog a mile or so ahead of them.


Music was never one of Alexander's strong suits, though this particular type of flute was one he could almost manage. It was simple in design, the shaft consisting of five finger holes: four carved into the front, and one in the back. It was small enough to place into his saddle pouch next to his quiver without it jutting from the pouch in an awkward fashion, yet not too small to where his fingers would feel cramped when placed along its length. He doubted he'd ever need to really concern himself with a particular tune. It's not like anything out there would be playing a flute other than their group.


As Alexander moved towards the auxiliary troops, he glanced over to Gwendalin who had taken position behind him before he had fanned out. It seemed as though there still was no recognition of who he was and how their past was tied. He kept Escovet pacing along side the auxiliary troops, taking note of the locations of Kepheus, Fendrel, and the woman named Amelia Bordel. He was not familiar with the name, and therefore was not familiar with which face to put it to. His brow set in concentration as his eyes sifted through the troops on foot.


"Amelia Bordel," he called out. Was she a fighter or a servant?


@Honey Bee