Take Back the Crown


Hjalmar chuckled, "It seems where they excel in brilliance, they lack in socializing skills." He had honestly never seen a dwarf up close. They were reclusive folk, keeping to their own kind and not mingling with the surface dwellers. Well... except for the occasions where they set up traps for trespassers.


"I wonder what happened to make them so defensive..." Hjalmar thought aloud, absentmindedly rubbing his forearm, "My mother told me about them. I knew they were reclusive, but they never treated uninvited guests poorly. In fact, it just gave them another reason to feast and drink, and the thought was welcome..." He peeked out of the fold to try and get a better view of their heading, hoping to catch a sight of the dwarves when they came upon them, "But now they've completely cut themselves off, hidden and... isolated."


His brow furrowed, but he turned from the fold, one thought shifting to another... Speaking of the dwarves and their reputation, he also began to wonder about the elves, seeing as how Oceana was one of them. "What are the elves like?" He asked curiously and then chuckled, "Are they more like you? Or are they friendly?" He joked.


@OlKaJa77





"Now is not the time to be goofing off!" Svetlana scolded Alo, being pulled away from the elf and the thief, "If you had not noticed, we are in a very delicate situation. No sudden moves." The old woman sighed, she felt as if she were babysitting helpless children.


She took a seat next to the princess, proud that she was taking action and leading them. The witch sometimes felt like she was leading the group, despite that not being her place, "Alright, my highness." She smiled warmly, "When talking with the dwarves, I will act as your translator. They seem a little rough around the edges, and they can be dangerous. But at heart, they are a jolly folk always up for adventure. If you know how to communicate with them, we can avoid any bloodshed. Make sure to be very polite, and I have no doubt you will be, but also be sure to hold an air of superiority as you address them. They despise spineless wretches... and as much as I love you my dear, at times you seem to lack a backbone."


Someday, Svetlana hoped to teach Lucasta how to be more like a princess. The child had spent ten years living an almost-average life, so she had never been properly trained nor prepared for the burden... For now, the witch would wait until they had more time and less dwarves.


@Danika @Queen of Fantasy
​
 
"Sorry, no, I didn't notice." Alo was still laughing but not as loud. "I'm bad at noticing things. Horrible, actually. Lilith would tell you. Or Valeiah, but she's annoying and I don't think you'd want to talk to her of your own free will."


@Lo Alyssa


Valeiah stood up and brushed herself off. "Why did we stumble upon him of all people?" She grumbled to herself.
 
Upon seeing the shifter return, alone, Foxrun had wondered the same thoughts as all the others surely were. And those were only brought on with even more disconcerting thoughts as he explained the situation. A knot had long ago formed in his gut, the heated argument made sure of that. He felt as if this new situation had only worsened it


He peeked back out of the caravan to watch as they approached where the others were waiting, as well as the dwarves. With all the speak from others about their past, he found himself reflecting on his own again. To be specific, his mother. The only good opinion he currently had about all the sand, and the blazing sun, was how golden it all looked. Like her hair. Sure he had gotten his blonde-ish hair from her, yet it did not seem to glow as hers had. Nothing seemed to actually. As a child, he felt awed at how she seemed to always be the brightest thing around. She gleamed more than the sun in his mind. But that was to be expected, she was a nymph after all. The fae blood was pure in her, and that same blood was what drove her to leave him and his father behind. Then that led his father to ultimately abandon him as well. And just like that, his thoughts had turned sour, as well as his current mood. So he tried to focus ahead, anything to distract from such ailing thoughts.


(Ah just a glimpse into how his mind works as well as a bit of his past vuv I'm rambling, gotta try to catch back up aha)
 
Oceana tilted her head at the thief's question, smirking.


"The elves all differ from clan to clan; my clan was somewhat more reclusive than most, and were avoided by many in turn. No one really wants to trade or hang about with those that live at the foot of an active volcano."


Oceana seemed unbothered by this, almost as if her clan had been glad to be bereft of human traffick.


The elf puffed her chest proudly,


"We elves are a proud race; there is grace and certainty in everything we do. Our smiths make the most detailed artisan armor, and our hunters aim true, and our healers mend flesh and bone good as new."


"And our women are beautiful and strong."


Oceana winked at Hjalmar.


The elf maiden then sobered up a little, no longer wearing her jesting demeanor.


"Truth be told, I'm not as accepting as most of my kind. I'm also not as tall; sort of a runt, I was. Although my mother was a wee bit short as well."


There was no joking tone left in her voice now. Her cerulean eyes turned sad, dark lashes narrowing to fight back potential tears.


"My mum was from a different clan than my father....But one night, at a clan's meet near the sea, they met and danced the night away, watched the stars...He vowed to ask for her hand from their clan's elder and her father."


Her raven hair framed her face as she smiled sadly.


"And so he did. And they accepted.

But the night before she was to begin the journey, a jealous ex-lover decided to steal one last night of brutal passion."


"So she left her clan the next day, perhaps broken but defiant as ever.


She made the month long journey and told my papa what had happened and that she was pregnant with a child;... "


"Me." She whispered in a strained voice.


"But despite it all, despite that I was a bastard, they both loved me. And even when my mother, the love of my father's life, passed giving birth to me, Egonrael still loved and raised me like his own. And I foolishly took all of it for granted."


Oceana's mind flashed back to watching as Kìgyò personally sliced open her father's head. She grit her teeth, vehemently shooing the memory away.


"In short," she mumbled "elves are tall and graceful, beautiful and lean, resourceful and clever, righteous and jealous, proud and fearless,...scornful and defiant, loving and kind..."


Once again feeling a pained kind of anger, the elf looked away, lips itching with all the words she didn't say.


"I hope that answers your question, boy."


She said gruffly.


@Lo Alyssa
 
Last edited by a moderator:
When the wagons started moving, Kacel'la took a moment to decide if she should leave or stay with the group. She decided on staying, and hopped into one of the wagons. She was happy that no-one seemed to directly object to with her actions.
 

Hjalmar listened intently, truly curious about what her people were like, "My mother..." He stopped for a moment, knowing how Oceana felt about humans and elves, "When my mother was a child, she was left abandoned on the side of a road... A caravan of elves happened to be passing by. They weren't of any clan, though perhaps they used to be, but they joined together for a common cause. They found her, a mere mortal baby dying in the mud... They didn't have to do anything, and yet they picked her up and took her in. They became her family, and they taught her their trade. All of them died before I got to meet them, their trade happened to be- well, assassination. When your job consists of going around and killing people, I suppose that is the very fate you'll meet someday..."


He smiled, and leaned back, remembering the stories his mother told him, "She spoke very highly and fondly of them. Though they had long since abandoned their culture and their old ways, my mother did not know much about the elves beyond what her strange family told her... And they didn't tell her very much about their old life. However, they made sure her first language was elvish, so she made sure mine was too." He laughed and raised an eyebrow, "So I do know what you're saying under your breath sometimes."


He then went quiet, unsure as to whether he should share... "I do not understand everything you go through, Oceana... But I do understand to a certain degree. I never knew my father, my mother never spoke of him other than that he is gone... and eventually, my mother was taken from me as well."
​



 
"feallmharfóir?!" The elf hissed in disbelief, before realizing that the human knew what she said. A hand flew to her mouth in surprise.


"You!" She said accusingly, "why didn't you tell me before?"


Suddenly her eyes widened and she looked away, finally realizing how rude she was being. Hjalmar's mother... She...


Ah! Who cares? He's just a stupid human...


....I.... Do...


Looking back up to her human companion she sighed heavily.


"I'm sorry. About your mum." Was all she said, still flabbergasted by the fact elves had taken to even raising a human.


Sniffing, Oceana picked at a loose string in her armor, feeling awkward.


@Lo Alyssa


(feallmharfóir means assassin in Gaelic)
 

Giving a slight smile, he decided to address her in her own tongue, "It's okay. It was eleven years ago, I've had time to heal... I did not say anything because telling people my mother was an assassin will only strengthen their distrust towards me." He rubbed the back of his neck, regretting having said anything, "She was not just an assassin though. She was also an incredibly gifted mage and scholar. She knew many languages and many histories. After she lost her guild, she became a bounty hunter, if killing was apart of the job, so be it. But usually, it was duties such as guarding precious cargo, or apprehending wanted criminals, despite being one herself. She stopped when I was born, though the past came back to haunt her, and it was because of her path in life that she is no longer with me today."


He looked away, remembering how he had narrowly escaped the group that set out to kill her. He was her child, of course they wanted him dead too, "But maybe... maybe if I had stayed with her instead of running like she had asked, she would still be here... truthfully, it's my fault she is dead."


He shook his head, returning to the common tongue, "Sorry. I started rambling, forget I said anything." He sighed, he had never really talked with anyone about it before, he was so used to keeping everything bottled up inside. His line of work made it so he couldn't have friends, so these new companions were very different from what he was used to in a good way. It was also refreshing to speak in the elvish tongue once more, it had been a long time. He hadn't spoken it since his mother died. Deciding to be courteous, he thanked her in her tongue, "Thank you... for listening..."


He frowned, feeling like he had bothered her for sharing. He wasn't sure why he found it so easy to talk with her, perhaps it was because she looked so much like his mother... But she hated humans! He had no idea what she felt towards him. Did she save his life because she cared? Or because it was simply her duty to care for her companions? He didn't want to be tricked into believing someone truly cared again, he had learned his lesson. He can not trust anyone. With those thoughts, he retracted, and swore he wouldn't slip up and speak of his past again. It didn't seem she liked talking about it anyway, and the last thing he wanted to do was aggravate her (which he already seemed to do just by existing).
​



 

Lucasta gave a nervous smile to Svetlana and nodded in understanding. She kept her eyes on the path ahead of them, but spoke to Svetlana still. "I'll keep all of those things in mind..." She reassured the old woman. "And it's alright. I don't think I have much of a back bone either." She glanced back at her. "That's why I'm going to try harder." She grinned, then continued to look at the road. She knew that the witch was right. She never grew up with confidence, or bravery. She simply served drinks all her life, even before the attack on her home. She was always pushed around, and never knew how to stand up for herself. That's why she wants to try harder, so she may become a better leader.


Lilith sat in the back of the wagon, sitting next to the prince who was examining the small exploding rocks that Svetlana had presented to him. "You've got a runestone? Haven't seen those for many years." She commented. Lucas looked up at her and stuffed the rocks quickly back into their pouch. "The old lady, Svetlana gave me them. Aren't they cool?" He grinned. Lilith smiled back and nodded. "The last time I've seen one of those is during my stay with her in fact. She'd use them to help me train, and give them to me as well to fight back when my magic wasn't as perfected as it is now." She stroked her cat. "Except yours are a reddish color. Mine were blue. I believe they have different ranks in damage depending on the color." She thought out loud. "Or I could be wrong." She shrugged. Lucas smiled and picked the black cat from Lilith's lap, and placed her into his instead. Jinx didn't move a muscle, but simply sat in the small boy's lap and slept.
​
 
(I'm back!)


The desert was hot, dry and sunny. Unfortunately for Nameen, those were the conditions that she'd found she liked the absolute least during her travels.


The albino girl stood jammed up against one of the caravans, trying desperately to keep herself in the minimal sliver of shade that the wagons provided. Her wine red cloak was gone, tossed into the back of the cart, but her precious blade still remained strapped to her back. Sweat beaded on her temples, dampening her stark white hair while she resisted the urge to roll up her sleeves. Anything that kept her shielded from the beating sun would suffice, even though she felt as if she were about to pass out from the heat.


Being in her secluded position with none other than the horses to keep her company, Nameen strained her ears trying to listen to what was going on with her companions. She'd heard quite a lot of commotion, voices arguing and something about dwarves. Other than that it was hard to make anything out.


She huffed. Regardless of what she might be missing, it was better than being out and exposed to the desert sun's merciless rays. One hour without shade would turn her pale skin redder than a ripe tomato, and after two she'd be blistering all over come nightfall.


It was quite embarrassing, to have something as trivial as the noon sun keep her crouched by the wagons. But the last time Nameen had been in such sweltering heat, she had burned and passed out on top of it. Since then she'd kept to traveling more moderate areas. So, knowing that she would be no good to the group unconscious in a pile of sand, she stayed put.


Nameen kicked around the sand with her feet, the wonder of what she was missing gnawing at her insides. Scowling, her one light blue eye darted continuously back to where she knew the rest of the group was, beyond the wagon.


(I know this really doesn't have a lot to do with what's going on, but I'm just trying to write Nameen back in. If anyone could help that would be great because she really doesn't want to come out from behind that wagon hehe)
 
Last edited by a moderator:
Oceana frowned at Hjalmar, miffed that he had gotten so solemn and closed-off so quickly.


He was indeed human but somehow knowing that his mother had been raised by elves made her feel closer to him rather than offended.


Perhaps like some sort of estranged cousin.


And she felt a strange kinship with him over their mothers. She too felt as if her mother's death was her fault.


It was the truth but still left an odd taste in her mouth.


Nevertheless she wished to convey this fondness to him.


So she knocked him on the back of the head. Lightly...


"Donnae get all mopey on me now." She chided "that's my job; to be the grumpy and depressing ninny."


She turned away in a mockingly superior manner.


"Besides we cannae have you tiring yourself out by crying like a wee babe."


She was smirking at him but now smiled a small, genuine, smile.


"We need your help so donnae go weeping yourself to sleep, básmharáin." She drawled, but the elvish word for human wasn't spat, as one normally heard, but was said playfully, as one might tease a sibling.


Hjalmar was, by circumstance, a human, but was meant to be born an elf.


Oceana was sure of it.


@Lo Alyssa
 
Last edited by a moderator:

Hjalmar tried not to, but he couldn't help but smile. He gave her a look, her reaction made him feel a little better after sharing something so personal. He rubbed the back of his head and laughed, though it quieted as he glanced at his marked arm again. He sighed, glancing around the wagon for something to cover it with. His eyes landed on a box filled with first aid equipment, which meant there were probably gauze wraps inside. Maybe he could play it off as a wound for the time being, and if somebody saw the mark at some point, he could just give them the 'I got it while I was drunk' story. He wrapped it up quickly, careful not to make it too tight as his mother taught him. She had always refused to magically heal him when he got hurt, she believed physical pain would strengthen him. She was a wise woman despite his distaste for that mindset when he was younger, she had always responded by saying, 'If you rely on something too much, it becomes a crutch, a weakness that can be exploited.' He didn't get it then, but now that he was older, he understood what she meant. What happened if she couldn't use magic? Her life would be threatened, because she wouldn't know how to survive without it. She had always been rough around the edges, she always had a scowl on her face and rarely smiled, but if she had coddled him like most mothers, he would not have survived this long.


When he finished wrapping the mark up, gladdened he didn't have to look at it anymore, he worked on getting his worn leather armor back on. Svetlana had removed all his weapons, his scarf and the torso of his armor, and he groaned. His muscles ached as he worked on the straps, but if the dwarves ended up being hostile, they would need everyone capable of fighting. Perhaps he could use his crossbow instead of trying close combat.


When he finished, he took a seat near the front of the wagon, brushing aside the flap of the cover so he could see ahead of Svetlana and Lucasta, who were driving this caravan in particular, and the horses working hard in the heat. He could see two figures, as well as some small ones in the distance.


"Looks like we're close." He said to Oceana without turning his head, "They don't look very happy."


@OlKaJa77





Svetlana smiled, and rubbed Lucasta's shoulder, "When we have time, I will try to teach you what I know." She looked ahead of her, putting her hand up to shield the setting sun. She could see the small figures of her grandson and fellow dragon blooded companion, and the even smaller figures of the dwarves who had them cornered. When they got close enough, Svetlana halted the caravans, helping the princess off her seat. She would be sure to stay near her, and act as translator if need be.


As they approached, the leader followed suit and left his group of short dwarves to speak with them. He still had a helmet on his head, and with a muffled gravelly voice he addressed them "Ya polagayu, vy lider?"


"He asks if you are the leader. Remember, be confident. Answer him, but also explain we are just passing through." Svetlana advised the princess with a whisper.
​




@Queen of Fantasy (and everybody else on the caravans)
​
 
So now they just had to wait. It really wasn't that much of a problem, or, at least, it wouldn't have, if... he knew how to speak dwarf. The thing was, nobody was talking. Once Dorian left (and they'd all watched him go away, slowly - the dwarves watching closely), they turned back to each other in silence. He would've sworn that the dwarves would say something - maybe attempting to keep talking. They could've introduced themselves. Anything. They had Yaroslav they could talk to, after all! Right?


Well, apparently not. He was counting the seconds as they passed by, looking down at the dwarves, at Yaroslav, then back at the dwarves. He really couldn't see half of the dwarves's eyes, because their helmets shaded them or hid them completely. Were they staring at him? He had to be honest - he wouldn't be surprised. It was almost ironic that the two tallest of their group were the ones to run into dwarves (of course, he would never bring up their height - he was positive that it was a sore subject). He could feel the tension in the air (or at least, that's what he thought it was, but it was probably mostly just him being uncomfortable with the silence)...


At the moment he finally decided to say something, he saw the wagons from the corner of his eye. FINALLY. He turned back and waved, smiling in relief, and turning back to the dwarves. He pointed back at the group with his thumbs, "That's us!" He said, still smiling.


See?? NO reason to be suspicious! They weren't lying about being with a group!

 

Lucasta blinked and glanced at Svetlana. She glanced back at the dwarf, and pulling the astray hairs from her face started to respond.


"Yes, I am the leader of this company. My name is Lucasta Valor. Please, there is no need for violence. We are only passing through."


She explained, clasping her hands together with a smile. She wasn't absolutely sure whether or not dwarves responded kindly when someone presents themselves with kindness. She did so anyways.


"It is a pleasure to meet you."


She looked back at Svetlana, hoping for some reassurance if she did well.
​
 
Thora found her place near the front of the caravan (for once) and eyed the dwarfs cautiously. She was thankful to know as many languages as she did and listened intently to the conversation in the native dwarven tongue. A strange feeling she couldn't quite place washed over her body as she heard them speak. Nostalgia maybe? She wasn't quite sure. But every word they spoke added another butterfly to her stomach.


She wasn't sure what these dwarfs were even like. Friendly? HA! Dwarfs were hardly the friendliest bunch, not at first anyhow. She studied their faces, their large noses and fuzzy beards. She hid a smile as she eyed their stumpy legs; 'I could outrun them any day,' she thought to herself. They looked similar to the dwarfs she once knew and that gave her a kind of confidence she hadn't felt in some time. If things started to go south, though she prayed they didn't, then she felt comfortable enough to intervene.
 

Instead of a reassuring expression Lucasta was looking for, Svetlana's eyes widened as she bent over to look at the dwarf a little closer. Lucasta had done just fine, but something had caught the witch's eye. She then squinted, and flicked her hand, using magic to toss the helmet off the dwarf, sending a gasp throughout the crowd of dwarves. Before they could get angered at the sudden and disrespectful gesture, Svetlana smiled widely, "Sverrir!?"


The dwarf, who was now revealed to have dark eyes, a singed beard, and long dark chestnut hair pulled back in a braid, gasped. His eyes thinned as he smiled, the wrinkles in the corners of his eyelids pronounced as he smiled quite often, "Svetlana!" He jollily yelled with a boisterous deep voice, "I could not see you very well with that helmet on!" He gripped her hands fondly.


"I told you to make adjustments to that silly thing last we met." She scolded, "You had a crossbow aimed at my grandson."


The dwarf turned his head to the large warrior, and apologetically waddled over to the man, "My deepest apologies medvezhonok!" He wrapped his arms around Yaroslav's waist, as he couldn't reach any higher, "Your voice has gotten so deep, I could not recognize it! I guess you are not so little anymore."


Yaroslav smiled, "No, I am not, Sverrir. Now I am much taller than you."


The dwarf glared, "The one thing I envy about towering folk." He grumbled, "At least when I am short, it's easier to split open a belly." He chortled knocking on Yarosalv abdomen for emphasis, and then looked at the other tall man whose face he did not recognize, "Apologize to you too tall one!"


Svetlana sighed, relieved that these dwarves were ones she had met before long ago when their wagon had broken down in this same pass. She put her hand back on Lucasta's shoulder, "Princess, this is Sverrir, a very very old friend of mine."


"We have royalty present?" The dwarf asked as he bowed before Lucasta, "I am very sorry for this misunderstanding, milady." He added, "We have been dealing with thieves of an opposing clan here in the passing, so we have been on edge and taking every precaution to prevent more larceny!"


@Queen of Fantasy @soundofmind
​
 
Oceana crouched next to Hjalmar at the front, peaking at the dwarves outside of the wagon.


She almost laughed and clamped her mouth shut. She added a hand for good measure.


These guys are shorter than Thora!


Shaking her head and fighting off giggles, Oceana focused on the dwarven leader.


He was squat, yes, but his form was bulky and the elf could tell he was muscled even under all that heavy plate armor. His voice was gravelly as he spoke the guttural dwarven language.


We shouldn't underestimate them, her inner hunter told her, an unfamiliar species in an unfamiliar climate provides quite the wicked home advantage. Not to mention they're quite clever; dwarven mechanics are legend.


Her grip tightened on the slingshot in her hand.


That is until Svetlana unmasked the dwarven leader and they smiled at each other.


The elf maiden exhaled a breath she didn't know she was holding.


"Well then." She grunted to herself, as the dwarf -Sverrir- practically hugged Yaroslav.
 

Lucasta jumped at the sudden reveal of the dwarf, but sighed with relief when he turned out to be a friend of Svetlana. She watched as the dwarf leader greeting Yaroslav with great friendship and friendliness. She grinned and bowed back to the dwarf.


"It is alright. We can understand the inconvenience of thieves."


She chuckled, as she looked back at the wagon, which Hjalmar was sitting in.
​
 
Oceana had to release a giggle after her elven ears had picked up the princess' words.


She couldn't help it.


One look at the thief forced another chuckle out of her.


Indeed it was inconvenient to have my pants and weaponry stolen in the early morn by some boy, who ended up as my closest ally here.


Perhaps if I relished the company of men I would have found it flattering.





But right now, she simply found it amusing.


@Lo Alyssa
 
Valeiah had jumped into a random cart, since they were leaving and she didn't want to walk anymore. She peeked out to look at the dwarves and decided she didn't care much about them. She hadn't even noticed the other person in the cart with her.


(Just doing this to give her an opportunity to talk to someone else in the group, since she has only talked to a few people)
 
An immense amount of relief washed over Thora. She was relieved that they were not hostile. She of course was happy that they weren't going to have to fight, but she even happier that these dwarfs had a similar attitude to those she used to know. The familiarity gave her comfort and she couldn't hide the soft smile that crossed her lips.
 

The sight of Bo was enough to put her heart at ease and cease the worrisome thoughts that had consumed her mind minutes prior. She only realized how hard she had been gripping the reins of the caravan after introductions were made. Phaedra didn't realize just how tense she had been, loosening her grip, enjoying the lighthearted moment for the time being. It didn't take long for her to look at the empty spot beside her on the bench and sigh softly. It was nice to have the brief company she had had while it lasted, despite her current overall distant mood.

She focused on the reunion. Perhaps watching the joy of others would reciprocate those feelings within her? It wasn't quite so. Phaedra simply watched impassively, taking the role of observer now, closing her heart off for the time being. Somewhere in her subconscious, she was trying so hard to organize and process the emotions she had wrestled. Perhaps it was better this way - it kept her eyes wandering around the group, on the look out for any trouble.​
 
Last edited by a moderator:

Hjalmar shrugged as the princess turned to look at him, a smug smile stretched on his face, and a snort escaped his lips as he heard Oceana chuckle. Of course it was inconveniencing, but someday he would prove an asset to the group if he hadn't already.


He heard a clamor behind him, as someone hopped into the wagon. It was the obnoxious healer, Valeiah. He smirked, and seeing as how there was no longer a prominent threat, he relaxed and leaned against the beam of the caravan, "Your brother being a pain in the rear?" He asked, "Seeing you two quarrel has made me quite grateful I don't have siblings." He laughed.


@OlKaJa77 @Danika





"I am glad you understand, milady!" Sverrir lifted his head and laughed, "Now, the sun is setting, we don't want to be out here when the crawlers come out. We'll feast, drink and make merry! You are welcome to my heart and home, though it may not be quite as extravagant as my ancestral halls." He barked some orders at the the other dwarves, who instantly got to work, resetting the trap, sheathing their weapons, and getting ready to move out. He turned to Svetlana, "You will have to tell me all about what brings you through the passing this time!" He gave her a toothy smile, "I see you still have the wheel I made for you." He nodded at the wagon that was completely made of wood except for a single wheel in the back which was metal.


"Yes, yes I do." Svetlana chuckled, "It has lasted longer than the rest of them, and it has been at least 250 years."


"Really? That long?" The dwarf muttered, "My oh my, time flies by. Well, perhaps while you're stopped here, I can rig both caravans so they match that wheel? What do you day?"


Svetlana pondered for a moment, unsure as to whether they had the time. But the more she thought about it, the more it made sense to accept the offer. They were going to be traveling through rough terrain, it would be nice for the caravans to be sturdy enough to withstand it all. She slowly nodded, "You know, I think I will accept that offer."


The dwarf nearly lit up with happiness, and he clapped his hands together, "Wonderful, wonderful! Now let's get a move on so I can get to it!"


Svetlana laughed and led the princess, Bo and Yaroslav back the caravans. The dwarf leader continued to speak to his men, clearly impatient to get home now that they had unexpected good company.


She took a seat in the leading caravan with the princess. Yaroslav took a seat next to Phaedra, jostling the caravan a bit as he hopped on, a smile still on his face, very glad to have met such an old friend. He looked at Bo, "You were very good out there today." He tried to compliment albeit gruffly, feeling in a good mood, "I am happy to have individuals such as yourself aiding us on this quest." It wasn't like either of them did much but walk and look, but Bo did not irritate him as some in the group did. He turned to Phaedra, not having spoken to her much in the period of time they had been traveling. He had not forgotten her heroics on the wavebreaker, "You too. Without your abilities, I fear my magic would have not been enough to save us in that storm. It was an amazing feat you accomplished, and I am sure it made you stronger."


@soundofmind @Queen of Fantasy
​
 
Thora hid her excitement as well as one can hide a fire behind fogged glass. Maybe you had to look a little closer than usual, but once you did you could easily read how she was feeling. It had been so long since she had feasted and drank with dwarfs. She hoped that they would be just like she remembered. She bit her lip in an attempt to calm herself as the caravan followed the dwarfs.
 

Upon seeing Yaroslav take the empty seat, she seemed to perk up ever so slightly, even managing to give a small smile in greeting to the giant of a man. Yes, the company was nice. Phaedra shied away slightly at the compliment however, rubbing the back of her neck with one hand while the other held the reins.

"I could say the same to you." She managed to say, a little weaker than she had hoped. It wasn't for lack of confidence, but rather that she hadn't expected to have her voice coaxed out of her. "It was a group effort, Yaroslav. But, I thank you."

Considering how weak she felt now, it was hard not to forget the tremendous amount of energy and effort she had put forth only a day ago. Phaedra still felt lucky to be alive after that. Novice mages could burn themselves out, draining themselves completely of even their life force. While she was no novice, she was still young and not experienced enough to repeat the stunt she pulled earlier in a more controlled manner. She would have to be careful if she wished to continue to be an asset to the group and not a drained husk, left forgotten somewhere. Or worse, if a surge of wild magic decided to rip through her.

"I suppose that these dwarves knew you as a young man then, hm?" Phaedra tilted her head slightly, examining Yaroslav. "It is admittedly difficult to imagine you being their height at one time."

@Lo Alyssa
​
 
You must log in or register to reply here.

Users who are viewing this thread

Total: 2 (members: 0, guests: 2)
Back
Top