Fantasy The Five Kingdoms - The Fall of Sarthenfall - Ic

[Ms. Sparrow]

Azalea Eve Windfore

Azalea gazed up at the clouds in wonderment, eyes glazed over in thought as her thumb traced the A.R.W initials ingraved into the silver locket around her neck. She watched as something gently drifted from the skies, a speck of white landed on her scared, cold as ice and light as a feather, and when she put her free hand one of the long scars, she found only a drop of water instead and it dawned on her what it was.

Snow.

She’d always heard of it, but never experianced it in the twenty years she’d lived. Calore was cold in the winters, freezing actually, but it never snowed.

The cold air bit at her skin, the cool grass lulling her into comfort, her red hair pooled around her, and the flakes fell slowly, melting on her warm skin and sticking in her hair. There was something new in motion now. A change. And she didn’t know if it was good or bad.

And she wondered if things could have been different. Azalea continued to gaze into the clouds that dropped delicate snow flakes on her skin. She continued to trace the locket, considering. She wondered how she could explain, why she couldn’t answer so many questions she was sure she’d get asked eventually. The gravity of what she’d done.

~~
That night at the pavilion, late October, the girls didn’t dance. Instead they sat in a circle and spoke in low voices. It didn’t hurt so much, somehow, when they whispered. Above them, the invisible orchestra played soft, soothing gavottes. Earlier that day, the King had sold Ana’s portrait, the last thing of Ana’s, everything else had been locked away, and the girls were torn.

“I know it didn’t look like her,” said Azalea, in a hollow voice. Her venom had dwindled to weariness by now. “I can’t believe he would just take it. I can’t believe the King would let anyone take it.”

“I can,” said Isis, tucking a torn ribbon into her patched slipper. “Honestly, nothing the King does surprises me anymore.”

“What will happen?” said Hyacinth. “With the King?”

There was a pause, so quiet the mist could almost be heard outside.

“Nothing,” said Violet. “He’ll go back to the library. Things will be the same.”

“Like when Ana was here?” Hyacinth and Jasmine looked at Violet with bright eyes.

“No,” said Violet ,who looked to be restraint herself. “Look, we promised not to talk about the King.”

“We can’t…just pretend—like—like he and the—the Queens dead.,” said Karliah.

“Why not?” said Azalea. “I mean, things would have been different, wouldn’t they? If it was them instead of Ana who—” She abruptly stopped, her face flaming. “I didn’t mean that,” she said. “I didn’t.”

“It’s true, though,” said Isis. “Don’t you remember, how much it hurt, when they never came to dinner? How much it hurt, when he said—”

“Stop!” said Violet, on her feet. “Stop, stop, stop! We don’t talk about this!”

Violet paced, her fists clenched so tightly they shook.

The girls kept their lips pinched, their eyes wide on Violet. Normally Violet kept her temper hidden, but now it burned to her eyes, and her skirts swished hard about her.

“He’s going to find out about this, you know,” said Isis, from the floor. “The pavilion. Us dancing.”

“No, he’s not,” Violet spat. “He won’t. He has no part of this. It’s the only thing we have now, and I won’t let him take it away!” The words seared, whipping the mood into a smoldering head.

“Hyacinth will blather it about,” said Isis quietly. “You know she will.”

“I will not!”

“We could promise to keep it a secret,” said Jasmine timidly, huddling close to Hyacinth as Azalea paced in front of her. “Hyacinth and I shake hands when we have a secret.”

“It has to be more than that,” said Azalea. “It has to be something we’d never break, something we would never give away.” She spoke up, watching Violet pace.

Violet turned sharply, and stopped at Jasmine frightened bright blue eyes, and Hyacinth pudgy hand clasping Karliah’s. The pavilion felt muffled, silent, but Violet looked stunned with herself. She swallowed.

“Sorry,” said Violet. “I just—”
She pulled out a handkerchief, dabbing her wet face with it.

Azalea pursed her lips and glanced down at the floor, troubled. Her silver necklace dangled down, flashing in the light. It always seemed to take her aback and she remembered the promise she’d made to Ana with the same necklace and the sensation she got from it.

“I once made a promise,” said Azalea. “I haven’t broken it yet.”

She told them, with difficulty, what had happened that holiday night, in Ana’s room. About the promise.

“There’s something to it,” said Azalea. “I’m always reminded of it, whenever I put on the necklace.”

The girls’ mouths were slightly open.

Isis raised her chin. “All right,” she said. “If Ana did it, then—we’ll give it a go, too.”

The necklace was long enough that everyone could touch the chain—just. Azalea spoke the promise. She had them promise not to tell anyone, or show anyone, and never let anyone know about the passage or the pavilion or the Keeper. Especially not the King and Queen.

The moment the girls echoed the last word, Azalea felt the odd tingling sensation spread from her middle and shiver through her whole self, leaving remnants of goose prickles across her arms.

The girls let the necklace go, at once. Hyacinth brushed off her hands, as though they had something on them, and Karliah just looked from her fingers, to the necklace, and back to her fingers.

“What,” said Isis, “was that?”

Azalea shivered as the tingling faded. “I don’t know,” she admitted.

“I think,” said Karliah. “That…is a promise we had b-better keep.”

~~

Azalea jolted at the sound of both her title and name from Baxter’s sharp tone, sitting upright sharply just in time to watch Baxter disappear back into the screening tent. Sighing, Azalea stood, the snow beginning to stick to the ground by now, turning the grass into a speckled mess of green and white with the thin sheet of snow beginning to settle.

After adjusting her sleeves so they covered her wrists, and straighting the collar of her shirt around her neck, Azalea bedrugingly began her approach to the screening tent. Honestly, she felt as if she was walking the walk of shame, dread replacing her feelings of regret. Still, she kept her head held high and back straight, her expression showed was a wall in itself, showing nothing of what she really felt.

Azalea entered through the same tent flaps she’d seen Baxter disappear into. She found him standing behind the table and swallowed, though her expression showed nothing as she recalled his scolding yesterday. She only hesitated for a brief second before Azalea took a seat in her chair, forcing herself into a relaxed position, though she was quite the opposite, her crossed legs and arms, including her slouch and unimpressed expression said otherwise and was in all fairness, quite convincing in her posture. The snowflakes that had gathered in her red waves slowly melted as she eased her way into acting.

Her eyes traced his movements as he circled her, asking her what she guessed were the standard questions. Despite his intimidating, authoritive stature she was able to keep up with her smug, relaxed act as she smoothly replied, “My name is Azalea Eve Windfore, I’m twenty-years old and Caloreian.”

Azalea’s gaze flicked to her hand as she observed her fingernails as if there was something interesting to be found, looking all the more relaxed as her mind searched for what to leave out of her backstory before continuing on, “I grew up in Calore palace with six other sisters and one brother. Our mother and father were too busy with they’re roles in society so we were mainly raised and cared for by my father’s sister, Ana. She passed from illness a little more than a year ago, and we were in mourning until the attack.” Azalea struggled to keep her bored expression in check as she spoke, her angry bright yellow-gaze momentarily betraying her as she spoke about the attack.

“I had no occupations other then my title,” said Azalea, still feigning her relaxed position, “I could shoot a mans eye out with a bow, I’m good at sneaking, when I have to, horseback-riding, dancing...” Azalea paused, grinning a little as a spark of mischief lit her eyes, glancing up from her fingernails, “and, well, stealing.” As quickly as it appeared her smirk faded as she shrugged and looked back at her hands, “I had little time for hobbies back at the palace other then archery and dancing.” She said simply before dropping her hands to her lap and looking at Baxter as she leaned back in her chair lazily, despite her racing heartbeat and the urge to bolt out of the tent.



Xanto


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[Xanto]

Baxter Callahan​

Baxter mentally noted Azalea's posture as she spoke. It almost seemed like she was trying make the screening tent her humble abode with how relaxed her body language appeared to be. It didn't take long for the circulating leader to halt in front of the princess the moment she fully introduced herself.

His cold blue gaze glanced at the woman's finger tips as she studied them like there was some secret code written on her nails. To be honest, Baxter was not a bit surprised at Azalea's behavior. For now, she didn't seem like one to panic so easily . . unless triggered by the many topics that laid untouched.

Baxter made his way to his side of the table and took a seat writing some notes when needed. A pause in Azalea's story prompted him to look up catching sight of her infuriated eyes still focused on her nails. That was the side of Azalea Baxter wanted to dig into. What she was mentioning was purely on the surface. The intense conviction is what Baxter needed to examine.

He shortly returned to his note taking though as soon as Azalea moved on to her nonexistent other occupations. Soon enough, she paused again causing Baxter to move his gaze just in time to see her momentarily lift her eyes from her nails. Apparently, she was a bit fond of stealing. His brows slightly furrowed as he tried shooing away thoughts of his own brother's behavior. That was when he realized that Aria would find out much more about his family than expected. Regardless, he knew Raymond would only share what was relevant in his own respect.

Almost naturally, Azalea looked back at her hands and continued answering Baxter's statement. The lack of eye contact was obvious to the man. It was something that needed to be accomplished since the eyes relayed so much of what was in a soul. Bax lifted himself from his seat letting out a breath. There was no doubt that Azalea's conviction was hidden within her gaze. It seemed like he had to look into her eyes to fully unlock her inner personality.

Baxter calmly walked over to the princess and gradually leaned toward her suddenly taking her wrist without warning. He had a firm grip when he turned her wrist upward. It wasn't hard enough to hurt, but there was almost no chance for Azalea to pull herself away. With the same straight face, Baxter yanked her sleeve three fourths of the way up revealing a few marks on her skin that he temporarily glossed over. The two fingers from his opposite hand lightly pressed against her open wrist measuring her pulse. Meanwhile, his blue eyes locked on to Azalea's as he counted the beats he could feel.

"Remove your shirt," He ordered once he was finally done counting. His gaze though static dug deep into her look understanding that her hidden conviction and story would most likely be played out on the battle field . . or at least during their physical test. The man straightened himself up placing Azalea's hand back on her lap. "Empty all your pockets as well," He stated with his eyes looking toward the corner of the screening tent. He turned around and took a few steps away with his back toward her.

What was going through his mind? The fact that he hadn't taken Annabel's pulse. It wasn't that urgent, but it was a sign that needed to be checked just in case her beats implied that she was contaminated by a certain disease. Of course it would slip my mind. He made a mental note of telling Aria to take Annabel's pulse absentmindedly staying silent while waiting for Azalea to carry on.

Ms. Sparrow Blackrose7

 

[FrostFire]

Morag 'Aria' MacLaird

Spoiler: Images

Aria nodded in relief when Angie decided to let Baxter in on her little secret. It was honestly for the best, and Aria knew that the leader of the Rebellion would be just as respectful as Aria herself.
"Good, I will make sure to catch him alone at some point today." She made a mental note to drag Baxter away from his work, or perhaps she could visit his tent.
She smiled as Angie mentioned not being able to choose names. That was very true, but the fact that Angie had chosen a name so similar to her given name, in Aria's mind meant that she must have some attachment to it.
She grinned wider as Angie perked up, "Yes, capture the flag. We will be splitting everyone into teams once this part of the process is over." She said, chuckling at Angie's jest. When Angie turned around and asked a question that had no doubt been on her mind, Aria's eyes sparkled.
"I've known enough women in men's clothing to be able to recognise a fellow female soldier. I knew many a great woman who fought better than the men around them. You would not have been out of place." She said a little sad, slapping Angie on the shoulder with some force, a clunk sounding as her palm connected with her armour.

Lifting up the tent flap, she waited for Angie to leave before she herself exited, scanning the area for her next victim. Who was apparently sleeping. She sighed as she approached, noticing Clyde and giving him a little wave before she came to stand in front of the dozing Ray. He was sleeping? She disapproved, but it was something she could easily remedy....
"RAYMOND CALLAHAN!" She yelled almost at the top of her voice, her barking command reverberating across the clearing - it was probably heard clearly by every member of the Rebellion, and she was standing right in front of Ray so the noise to him would certainly come as a shock.
After a few seconds, she barked in a much quieter voice. "It's your turn. Stop sleeping and get your lazy behind into that tent." She spun on her heel, marching back to the tent and entering herself, waiting inside for him to follow her commands.

Once he was inside, she gestured to the seat, uttering "Please take a seat." as she picked up her clipboard and began her routine.
"Please state your full name, age, nationality, previous occupations, skills and interests. And tell me about your past, an outline will do." She stated, holding her cliipboard as she waited for him to speak.

explosiveKitten Xanto @ everyone

 

[explosiveKitten]

“...I’d be out of place anywhere else.” She mumbled, taking the clap to the shounded. Instinctively, her hand shot up to catch Aria’s wrist, but she stopped herself just short, her hand hovering in the air. She looked down at Aria’s hand, then her own and let her hand fall once again. She cleared her throat awkwardly and remarked, “Sorry. Reflex.”

She then ducked her way out of the tent and took a moment to breathe. That was way too much stress for her. She was still stressed, to be perfectly honest, but nothing to do about it now. Her eyes found Cale standing off by himself (as usual) and after taking a moment to gather herself before making her way carefully towards him. Remembering how the interaction between the two had gone previously, she made sure to make the walk casual, not marching threateningly, just casually approaching.

When she stood beside him, she crossed her arms over her chest and began to scan the area around them, falling back into her usual “guarding” routine. Just to break the silence, she asked, “So... how’d it go?”

Bakuyoshi FrostFire

 

[Blackrose7]

“Does it count if it is bath time? Aria will see me naked during that time, so you can ask her about that,” said Annabel. “If she mentions about a bruise on my body. I got that by being tackle off a tree, because everybody in Demonic Velvet wanted to drag me here.”
Annabel was giving Baxter a heads up on that, as she has that mark from the tree incident.

He then told her what her roles will be, and Annabel was happy at what Baxter said.
“I can do that, and I always wanted to plant some crops in my garden. Erezis didn’t let me do that since everybody would want to take them. So I had to put flowers there in order for them to not steal it.” said Annabel.
She was secretly happy about Demonic Velvet helping to lead the initiative to the stone structures because Annabel is so going to make it pretty.

Baxter said a few more stuff to Annabel before letting her leave the screening. “Freedom!” said Annabel, who left through the flap of the screening tent with the picnic basket.
Daisy was laughing at what Annabel have said when she got out of the screening tent. “Seems like you didn’t like screening a lot, Annabel,” said Daisy.
“You don’t want to know what happened in there, Daisy,” said Annabel.
She sit next to Daisy, so they can wait for capture the flag to start.

Before Annabel left: Xanto

 

[Bakuyoshi]

"Made a small mistake. I forgot to leave the disc inside of the tent. Soooo commander Baxter is the first person to know my secret. And on a better note he put me on board as the local engineer. I'm going to help make life a little easier around here." He then remembered Angelos nervousness about the screening "And what about you? What job have you got?" Cale was about to ask more when he then remembered why Angelo was there. "Oh right... I'm in a safe place now." Cale could hardly say much else. At the moment Angelo was the only person he knew well yet... Angelos job was to get Cale someplace safe. And given the camps state Cale could only assume for Angelo it was a mission complete.

explosiveKitten

 

[Ms. Sparrow]

Azalea Eve Windfore

Everything was going smoothly, the piccolo in her chest beat like mad, every part of her warning to squirm and she felt Baxter’s eyes on her, as if he was digging for something more. Azalea swallowed but kept her cool expression and focused her gaze on her fingernails, knowing if she met that piercing stare he’d see right through her. Azalea was a good actor, but her eyes held hidden hatred and grief that burned in her like mad. It ate at her, and the nightmares didn’t help.

Azalea kept her head tilted down to her fingernails, but her gaze was on Baxter as she watched him out of the corner of her eye as he began to approach, her eyes narrowed the slightest in suspicion and curiosity.

Azalea jolted as she realized what he was doing the moment he leaned towards her, but not enough time to react as he grabbed her wrist. Azalea reacted, letting out an angry hiss of breath, her eyes instantly flaring up in rage as she attempted to yank her arm away almost instinctively, though failing his grip stronger then her arm strength, her eyes narrowed into angry slits at the hand on her wrist before looking up and finding his eyes boring into her.

Azalea’s gaze went back to her wrist as he pulled her sleeve up, revealing one large ring of dark purple that went around her wrist, her other wrist identical, some minor small cuts in on her palms that were already nearly healed. Jaw clenched, Azalea flinched at the memory of receiving it before her gaze angrily shot to Baxter’s and found his piercing icy gaze staring straight into her.

Gads he was handsome, his gaze itself was a weapon. It felt as if he was staring straight through her and right into the depths of her soul. Azale forced herself to stare right back, fire and anger in her gaze as he checked her pulse, knowing her show of anger showed weakness, she refused to back down any further.

Relief flooded through her when he released her wrist, quickly pulling the sleeve back over the ring of purple, falsely hoping that was all screening entailed right up until he asked her to take off her shirt, causing her gaze to shoot up from her lap, her already pale complexion nearly going white as snow.

Her knees felt weak as she fixed herself to stand, unbuttoning her white shirt, her fingers shook slightly, lips pressed thinly together as she threw her shirt on the chair, her bindings covering her assets, but her expression showed no fear, though her eyes held anger.

The first thing that called attention was not the unnatural paleness of her skin, due to not being able to go outside for a year due to mourning restrictions, but the bruise on her neck. It nearly made a perfect ring, the only evidence that showed it was not from rope was where the thick ring of purple branched out on the sides of her neck that obviously resembled fingers, indicating there had been hands on her neck at a certain point in time, despite the bruise, her necklace still hung around her neck, bearing initials that weren’t her own.

The second thing that called to attention were the minor cuts and bruises on her arms, the cuts looking to be either made from glass while other cuts looked like they’d been pricked my something sharp, the cuts barely visible now that they were healing. She had a trim, lithe physice, more meant for speed then strength at the time, though she was slightly underweight from the long days on the road.

Azalea folded her arms across her chest, looking incredibly displeased if not a little angry for the display she was on.

The pockets didn’t concern her, considering most of her belonginings were in her bag. She dug into the pockets of her brown leather trousers and emptied it’s contents into the table; a couple hairpins, a blue ribbon, some lint and...​

A silver thorn, snapped from its silver bush most likely.

Azalea paled at the unnatural thing, alarm and panic coursing through her, wondering how she had not felt it in her pocket earlier. She resisted the urge to snatch it from the table and stomp it to the floor, not wanting to rouse any more suspicion then she was sure she already had, but still she found herself avoiding Baxter’s gaze once again, jaw clenched tightly, her lips pressed so tightly they were white as she stared at the contents of her pocket.​

Xanto

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[Xanto]

Raymond Callahan​

Raymond was sleeping like a baby with his legs stretched out on a flat rock and his back against the tree trunk. This was of course until a sudden harsh scream woke him right up. The man's eyes shot wide open as his body jolted toward the right side off the trunk. Fortunately, the sleepyhead instinctively caught himself with a tough grip around the rock he was on. Raymond then turned his attention to the demanding redhead in front of him with a slight furrowing of his brows. Even if she lowered her voice, Aria's words were coarse and sudden. It seemed like she wasn't used to letting others or herself relax just for a bit.

With a silent grunt, Raymond stood himself up and made his way to the screening tent rubbing his eyes on the way over. He simply ignored the rude awakening deciding that he really could have just sat on the ground and stared at nothingness same as everyone else probably did. Then again, that alone didn't seem productive to him. Ray slightly tilted his head before rubbing the back of his neck. What was done was done. All there was to do was look at the outcome's benefits. Raymond felt fortunate to have gotten a slight dose of energy even if he got yelled at. Anyway, it wasn't the first time he angered a royal redhead that morning.

Within a few seconds, the man entered the tent and shifted his hazel gaze to Aria. His hand moved through his tousled hair as he accordingly took his seat. From the looks of things, he seemed like the most calm member when it came to the whole screening event. There was no pressing secret that his brother didn't already know about.

What followed next seemed to be some sort of recited line with a lack of sincere curiosity in Aria's face. "Raymond Theodore Callahan, 22, Ezerisian," Ray replied gradually moving his eyes from the clipboard up to her freckled face. There was still a groggy sensation lingering inside, which he cooly tried to shake off. "Blacksmith and street magician," He mentioned skipping over that he had been a rogue thief on the sidelines. Leaving out the major criminal integral part of his life was not an option, but it wasn't an actual occupation in his eyes worth stating that moment. Besides, he would add the criminal segments later in his past "outline." "Skills are hand-to-hand combat, shooting, blacksmithing, most weapon usage, parkour, improvisation, magic tricks, criminal maneuvers, public speaking, riding horses, . . ballroom dancing" He added the last part silently realizing that he probably didn't need to mention that at all. Even with his rough house training, Ray still had a respectful and gentlemanly attitude. His eyes momentarily shifted off to the side, while he gave Aria a few moments to write down her notes. "Interested in tricks, combat, parkour, weaponry, technology, puzzles, learning, productivity, and challenges," Raymond finally said before folding his arms across his chest.

Soon enough, his gaze returned to Aria, "I am from Ezeris born and raised. Middle child of three. My family owned a blacksmith shop known throughout the kingdom and supplied both nobles as well as criminals." Raymond didn't know how much Baxter already told Aria about their family, but decided to keep the whole story minimal. "In exchange for better rates, the criminals provided our family with protection and disguised rogue training as self-defense for me," He clarified emphasizing that it wasn't his intention to receive criminal training in the first place.

Speaking about his backstory was a little tricky though since his older brother would unintentionally be connected to the whole thing. "Baxter . . Baxter had it different though," Raymond added hinting at the older Callahan's proper training under the eastern nobles. Knowing the two brothers' almost split upbringings would let anyone understand why they acted like they didn't grow up in the same house. "Half of the family moved north and we stopped supplying the criminals. A real gutsy move knowing that the decision would recoil," Visions of overnight raids unwantingly flashed in his mind as he looked around trying to find some sort of distraction. If it wasn't obvious already, he was one of the family members left in the eastern region while Baxter went ahead to the north.

Raymond skipped over the part about his own vengeance prior to ending his monologue, "My father and sister passed. Since then I have been traveling around for almost a year on my own."

FrostFire

Baxter Callahan​

Baxter was in deep thought until he heard a familiar voice yell out an all too familiar name. It sounded like Raymond was already being scolded. In fact, it didn't help that Bax was able to point out that it was Aria yelling from afar. At this sound out, the man rapidly turned around with a serious expression in time to see Azalea glaring at him with no shirt on. For some reason, Baxter had been out of it that day. His mind was scattered all over the place, but he still went the mile to help lessen Aria's screening load. So instead of walking out and scolding his brother just as he had intended to, the man snapped himself back to the reality that was already in front of him.

Baxter studied the bruises in the front of Azalea's body before approaching her again. The poor princess was bruised wherever he dared to look. Her pale skin was predictable, but the marking especially around her neck raised a lot of questions for Baxter. The rebel leader leaned a few inches away from Azalea prior to tilting a bit off to the side to see if it ended. "Did someone try to strangle you?" Baxter questioned regaining his straight posture and glancing at the necklace that hung around the princess's neck, "Or maybe attempt removing that necklace?"

It didn't take long for his eyes to shift down to her lightly cut yet also bruised arms. Either she was attacked or she randomly fell into who knew what. The next question that popped up into Baxter's mind though was, "Does Aria know about any of this?" He wasn't about to share news that wasn't his. However, if there were any pursuing life threatening situations then he had to talk to her about it.

As the man waited for Azalea's response, his eyes trailed down examining her physique. She mentioned sneaking as one of her skills and he didn't doubt it. Although he was capable of holding her wrist down, Baxter wouldn't be surprised if Azalea was fast enough to pull away beforehand knowing what was coming for her. She seemed quick.

Baxter's blue gaze moved up again once he caught sight of Azalea moving her arms across her chest and enhancing the mad look on her face. "You may wear your shirt," He said moving his attention away from her expression and onto the table.

She carried the bare minimum in her pockets. A slight shine against the light caught Baxter's attention though causing him to pour his concentration on a silver thorn. He raised a brow silently questioning the item as he looked at the woman who was once again avoiding eye contact.

The man inwardly groaned before adjusting his angle and standing directly in front of Azalea, "As odd as it seems, I am here to help." It was obvious that this particular princess ran her life based on her emotions. So, he had to let her know that he wasn't just screening her to spread news behind her back. "If you fancy . . Cale, then I do not need to know that," Baxter said randomly picking the last guy he screened. "But if you have valuable information that can save our people," The rebel leader stated on a more serious note slightly tilting his head toward her, " . . then I need to know how we can use it to defeat these shades." His phrase concluded with a softer gaze aimed at her.

Ms. Sparrow

 

[FrostFire]

Morag 'Aria' MacLaird

Spoiler: Images

Aria wrote everything down, the information he relayed was as expected, although he earned an amused eyebrow as he mentioned ballroom dancing. It was rather ironic, Aria herself had only ever had a few hasty lessons in dancing, so she was rather awkward and had a manly approach to it, any ability she had she put down to how combat and dancing were somewhat similar - judging your opponents movements and reacting accordingly. This approach meant that she danced as if she was expecting her partner to punch her or knife her, which tended to scare off most. It suited her that few would dance with her, and she deplored the dainty ritual and had always done her best to avoid it like the plague.
She wondered absentmindedly if Raymond would take a fancy to Azalea, she knew all of her cousins had adored dancing, something she could never understand. Aria scribbled everything he said down, pausing for a slip second as he mentioned Baxter's life being different. Aria had never pried into his life, but she knew there would likely be some history there, as Clyde's mother was glaringly absent.

Their families connection to criminals didn't surprise her, she knew Ezeris was rife with crime and had a rather prolific gang problem... Not that it mattered anymore. She supposed those gangs would be doing better off than most in current times.
"A year? That's rather a long time... Why didn't you come to join your brother sooner?" She questioned, genuinely curious as to the answer. The Shades had only attacked a week or two ago, so she wondered what had compelled him to stay on the road for so long... Her gut told her that the death of his Father and Sister likely had a big role to play in that.
"Also, I think it's a good idea if you worked as a blacksmith. Such skills are in short supply, especially as Baxter is now mostly tied up in other tasks." She wrote down her thoughts, and the role he would likely fill. They were in Trodaire, so had no shortage of people with combat skills - and she doubted training recruits would suit him, although she knew he could likely teach her a thing or two, combat was so different in the different Kingdoms and although she had been taught by people from all, she was keenly aware that she would always have more to learn. She made a mental note that she would have to ask him to spar with her someday in the near future.

Xanto

 

[explosiveKitten]

“Oh, brilliant.” She mumbled, resisting the urge to clap her hand to her face. “Well, I suppose it’s your secret to give, so I have no reason to judge.”

She glanced at Cale when he suddenly seemed to fall quiet after repeating her question back to her.
“Oh, jeez don’t look so crushed.” She said, looking at him with a rare softness to her face, “I said I was going to teach you to wield the sword, and who knows how long that’ll take. Besides, I want to make sure you settle in well before I...” She looked at him again, then glanced away, “... consider, leaving.”

She then got that cold, neutral look back on her face and looked forward, “Soooo, like it or not buddy, you’re stuck with me. Or I’m stuck with you. Either way you want to think about it.”

Bakuyoshi

 

[Bakuyoshi]

Cale froze for a moment. Inside his head he was making sure if what he heard was right. "Uh Angelo you are feeling alright aren't you? I mean I dont want to stomp on this moment but... did you just call me Buddy? Because if so, I mean here I was thinking you were all brooding and quiet. A man of few words! Did something happen in there that improved your mood?" Cale was in disbelief still. Even if he had conversation he still wondered if this was real. But he actually had a smile on his face as big as can be. Something he hadn't done in a while.

explosiveKitten

 

[explosiveKitten]

Angie stared at him, then with a shove she chided, “Ohhh, shut up.” purely in jest. She shoved him (carefully), then looked at Cale’s big grin. Awww look at this dork with a big ol’ grin. Just because he saw a little bit of personality.

She grabbed Cale by the shoulders and positioned him in front of her. “Alright, so since we’re doing capture the flag after everyone’s done, so I’m gonna teach you some basic defense in the next hour so hopefully you don’t get your ass beat to a pulp. Who knows, I might not be there to defend you. Might even be on the opposite team.” She said, then rubbed her hands together, “Alright, so the basics you absolutely have to know are that you need to keep a wide base,” she walked around him and used her own feet to spread Cale’s feet apart, giving him a good steady base, “This way nobody can knock you over, at least, not easily.”

She then turned to stand in front of him, “Alright, now put your arms up.” She put her fists up to block her face with her forearms just as an example to him.

Bakuyoshi

 

[Ms. Sparrow]

Azalea Eve Windfore

Baxter’s questions were direct and so were his observations, she felt her cheeks redden as his gaze fell on the bruise around her neck, and asked what had happened. She felt a wash of cold prickles spread from her toes to her neck. Her oath reminding her. Azalea visibly scowled. Ghastly magic.

Azalea put a finger to her neck, tracing the bruise then down to the necklace, considering. “Not necessarily,” She said simply, a hint of sharpness in her tone, “They didn’t want the neckla-“ Azalea abruptly closed her mouth, she sucking in sharply as the breath vanished from her lungs, the oath stopping her from discussing him, despite not using his name. And through Azalea’s both embarrassed and hardened expression it was clear she didn’t want to discuss the matter on her neck further.

Baxter’s next question didn’t suprise her, asking if her cousin knew about the extent of her injuries and Azalea’s gaze shot up from her necklace to Baxter instantly. “No,” said Azalea, icily, “And she won’t. She’s already had a ghastly enough experience, she can’t hear a guinea’s peep about this.” Azalea sighed, exasperatedly, rubbing her hand over her scarred cheek. “It’s nothing to be fretting over. What’s done is done.” She said firmly with her usual fieriness she got whenever her mind was set.

Azalea knew it wasn’t nothing, not the bruises, the scared cheek, the thorn, all of it. If she couldn’t explain how it all happened, then there was little point to the matter, and she didn’t want the pity. She was stronger then all of this. She had to be.

Azalea crossly glared at him as he measured her physique, though it was most likely standard in screenings she didn’t like it nonetheless, and was relieved to put her shirt back on when his gaze returned to her, which she never managed to hold for long. It was smoldering, then again, so was he, which made him damnably hard to look at.

When her eyes fell on the silver thorn, she could tell Baxter was unto her. She listened to him, trying to coerce her into telling him whatever she was hiding with his friendly words. She could tell he meant well, though perhaps frustrated with her, as she was with herself. She gave him a bemused glance as he mentioned fancieing Cale, the weak, scrawny wit that was most definitely far from her type.

Azalea sighed as Baxter finished, his words cleverly doing they’re job, just as his softer gaze was as well. Her heart beat like mad, she was almost certain one could see it pumping through her shirt.

Azalea forced herself to relax as she calmly stepped around him, and plucked the thorn from the table behind him before she turned and faced the onslaught of his gaze. “Listen Bax,” Azalea said, using the nickname she’d heard from yesterday, her usual casual, spirited tone returning as she forced herself into casualty. “If I could help, I would. But...” she paused and glanced down at the necklace before her hands reached around her neck and quite smoothly, and swiftly undid the chain, scooping up the necklace into the palm of her hand and running her hand over the smooth surface of the locket thoughtfully. “I can’t.” She said flatly. She couldn’t bring herself to mention it. Not yet. Not now. She knew the gravity of the situation, knew that something she was already under suspicion of hiding something. Knew lives depended on her. But she didn’t know these people. Didn’t trust them.

And even if she did, how could she tell someone she held a key she couldn’t use?
~~
That week, Azalea taught her sisters the Entwine. It was a tricky waltzlike dance, and a competitive one, where the lady and the gentleman each held an end of a long sash and weren’t allowed to let go. The gentleman would try to “catch” the lady—bringing the sash about her wrists by pulling her into under-arm turns and stepping about her, while the lady would turn and unspin and twist out of his arms, trying to keep the sash from tangling. Two years before, Ana had brought a skilled dance master to lessons to dance the Entwine with Azalea. Azalea had deftly ducked and slipped from his quick, skilled movements, and by the end of the three minutes, both of them exhausted, the dance master smiled and gave her a bow of admiration and respect.

Azalea tied a handkerchief around her arm and played the gentleman, speaking in gruff tones and making such a spectacle that the girls laughed madly.

“My laaaaaadeee,” said Azalea, bowing deeply to Violet. The girls giggled uproariously, and Violet sighed. Teaching closed dances without a gentleman was the most difficult thing so far, so she tried to lighten the mood when she could.

“My lady,” came another voice, and all the girls turned to see Mr. Keeper at the entrance, watching them with dark eyes. He smiled, and the two long dimples on each side of his mouth deepened.

Azalea stepped back. The piccolo trill in her chest glissandoed like mad. She swallowed, discreetly trying to wipe her hands on her dress. His eyes seem to see right into her.

“Do forgive me,” he said, stepping onto the dance floor. His feet made no sound. “I could not help but notice. Perhaps I could have the honor of this dance?” His eyes were on her.

A hush fell over the girls. Azalea imagined herself in Mr. Keeper’s arms, and the piccolo trill in her chest squeaked into tones only tiny birds could hear. If he danced like he moved—in smooth ripples—he was a very good dancer indeed.

“I thought you said you couldn’t,” said Hyacinth.

“My lady, I said I do not dance. That does not mean I cannot.”

“Do you even know the Entwine?” said Hyacinth.

Mr. Keeper strode to Azalea, his dark eyes drinking her in. His cloak billowed behind him. “My lady,” he said, without turning his eyes from Azalea, “I invented it.”


In a satinlike movement, Mr. Keeper had wrapped Azalea’s arm about his and had escorted her to the middle of the dance floor. So silky and gentle. Azalea blinked and realized that he had turned her around into an open dance position. She swallowed. It was hard.

Mr. Keeper flicked his hand, and a long sash appeared from nowhere. He shook it out with a snap. The bright red color flared against the pale whites and silvers. Azalea flinched.

Violet took charge of Kaidan’s pocket watch, setting it on the dessert table to mark the time. The Entwine was exactly three minutes long. The girls watched, giddy with anticipation, as the invisible orchestra began a slow waltz.

Azalea shook, nervous, as Mr. Keeper stepped in time, turning the sash about her as she stepped out. He did dance like he walked and spoke, with polished movements. Unhumanly graceful.

“My lady glides like a swan,” he said. He pulled the sash up and brought her under his arm. “You are the best I have ever danced with. And I, my lady, have danced with many.”

He pulled the sash even closer, and Azalea caught a look in his eye—the same hungry glint she had seen when he had Kaidan’s watch.

Convulsively, Azalea dropped the end of her sash.

That was immediate disqualification. The orchestra stopped.

“Only forty-five seconds,” said Hyacinth, looking at the watch, disappointed.

“You know, Mr. Keeper,” said Azalea. “We’ve never really been properly introduced. Ana always said—”

“Ah, your aunt,” said Mr. Keeper. His black eyes were completely emotionless. “I expect your aunt always had sweet little things to say. Such as, ‘You’re only a princess if you act like one,’ and other such nonsense.”

“Well,” said Azalea, coloring. “What’s wrong with that?”

Mr. Keeper gave her a thin, cold smile.

“Nothing at all,” he said.

“You know, Az has a sharp point,” said Isis as she and Karliah gathered the sleepy younger ones together. “We hardly know a thing about you. Where did you learn how to dance like that?”

Mr. Keeper’s thin, cold smile became even colder.

“I once knew a lady,” he said, “who could dance the Entwine nearly as well as your sister.”

Isis, lifting Hyacinth to her feet, perked up. Of all of them, she read the most romantic stories and drew the fluffiest of ball gowns on her stationery, and Azalea knew she wouldn’t leave until she had turned Mr. Keeper’s heart inside out, begging for details of romance.

“Were you in love?” she said. “Oh, do tell us about it. We only hear ghastly things about that time, with the revolution and everything. I want to hear something romantic.”

“Isis,” said Violet.

Mr. Keeper held up his hand, silencing her.

“It is all right,” he said. He turned to Isis, his cloak brushing the marble. “I will tell you about the lady I loved.”

The girls settled together on the entrance steps, not even breathing, for fear it would rustle the rosebushes about them and mask Mr. Keeper’s words. Mr. Keeper stood unmoving on the dance floor.

“Once upon a time,” he said. His voice dripped in silk strands. “There was a High King, who wanted more than anything to kill the five warriors who incited a rebellion against him. It consumed him. The desire to kill the Five filled him to his core, and he spent every breath, every step, thinking of ways to murder the Five.

“But he was old, and time passed, as it always does.”

Mr. Keeper paused. Azalea cast a slightly bemused glance at Violet, her eyebrow arched.

“So,” Mr. Keeper continued, “he took an oath. He filled a wine flute to the brim with blood. And he swore, on that blood, to make sure all blood of the Five would suffer and die by his hands, and that he would not die until he did this.

“And then, he drank it.

“The end.”

There was a very ugly, naked silence after that. The girls’ mouths gaped in perfect Os.

“Sorry?” said Isis. “I missed the part about the lady?”

“Ah,” said Mr. Keeper. “The blood. It was hers.”

~~
Azalea blinked away the memory. That story kept the girls awake all night with nightmares. Her necklace brought back memories, both good and bad. Azalea brushed a strand of red hair from her face, the air noticeably colder and she couldn’t help but shoot a glance behind her to the tent flaps, longing to step back outside. Before her bright gaze flew back to Baxter’s more serious expression. She pushed down the surfacing guilt in her. She knew she’d be watched with a keen eye from now on until she had answers.

Sneaking away would be a little more difficult it seemed.


Xanto​

 

[Xanto]

Raymond Callahan​

Raymond blinked a couple of times when Aria asked why he hadn't traveled to Baxter sooner. It was a question the man anticipated shortly after admitting his year long trek. After letting out a breath of air, Ray's typically playful character completely disappeared in the dark thoughts that soon bombarded his mind. "Good question," He uttered returning his look to the princess. Ever since his father and sister passed away, the guy had been beating himself up for leaving them vulnerable while taking vengeance against recoiling criminals at a rapid rate. Coming home to fire engulfing the shop was no pleasant experience especially if a person's family was caught in the blaze as well.

The man moved a hand through his hair frustrated with the thought that he fought fire with fire probably resulting in the literal bigger fire. If it wasn't obvious already, Raymond placed the blame of their deaths on himself. This was something Baxter refused to let his brother even dwell on. Bax knew that the younger Callahan's work was actually clean when he would eliminate some notorious criminals one by one. However, the truth was that the massive night raids in the blacksmith shop ended up giving gangs certain edges amongst others. So as soon as one gang had their fill, they set the place ablaze in order for the other criminal groups to have a lower weapon supply.

"I had to clear my mind," Raymond finally blurted out as he adjusted his position, "It's a hard thing when you have to tell the surviving half of the family that the other half was killed." The practical guy's mind then rerouted to a much clearer answer, "Also had to pick up a few supplies around the land for some tricks and family presents." Despite the somewhat lighter content he was telling Aria about, Raymond's thoughts couldn't help but continue to linger in the harsh darkness.

Within a few moments, he cleared his throat looking back off to the side, "Blacksmithing, yeah that sounds good." It was a fortunate thing that Aria was moving right along the agenda. This rate helped him quickly bounce back to a slightly brighter mood. "I can also travel out of grounds to scavenge for anything. Maybe even search for recruits," Raymond mentioned with his gaze focusing on the princess once again.

FrostFire

Baxter Callahan​

Baxter's eyes shifted downward as Azalea stepped around him. To the rebel leader, it was good that she was moving around now. This alone proved that his slightly different approach at least had a little effect on the princess. Unsurprisingly, Azalea's movement of picking up the thorn prompted Bax to look back at her scarred face. The man smiled a bit when she called him by his nickname. Now he was sure that some of her natural behavior was present again.

Unfortunately, Baxter couldn't get any answers out of Azalea yet. It was pretty obvious that she stomped around the bush for all the questions about her markings and thorns. Her present behavior though was actually something the man anticipated since he already knew how strong her spirit was when it came to holding her ground. No doubt it would take a longer time for him to hear the full on truth.

Baxter noticed Azalea's brief silence and slightly tilted his head. It looked like her mind was flooding to the brim with thoughts. Perhaps she was having a flashback? Whatever it was, the princess didn't seem too optimistic. "Let me know when you are ready," Baxter finally said meeting Azalea's gaze implying all the secrets she currently kept. In due time he would ask about the obvious scar on her face as well. As of now though, the man was running late to a strategic meeting.

"Your roles are as followed," Baxter rapidly moved along yet spoke with a somewhat sincere tone, "Keep the spirit up. Any morale boosting event would be nice once in a while. I have a feeling you would do well in that. Report to Aria or I with any questions or concerns." Azalea's energy could make a positive impact on the camp if channeled correctly. Hence, the consult Aria or Baxter portion of the phrase. "Aside from that, you will train our archers," The man raised a brow and smiled a bit to low key lighten her saddened mood up, "I will place you over Whitefield's word during archery training."

Then in almost an instant, his usual serious expression snapped back, "Any questions, Princess Azalea?"

Ms. Sparrow

 

[FrostFire]

Morag 'Aria' MacLaird

Spoiler: Images

Aria's eyes narrowed slightly as he explained. She wasn't buying it, not one bit, but she decided to leave it. It wasn't essential, and she figured Ray deserved a little privacy on the matter. She could sympathise... Her own thoughts threatened to darken, but she shoved them back. This was no time to be thinking about such things, she had to be strong, she was always the strong, sturdy shoulder to support the others, any feelings that might threaten that she did her best to keep buried deep within her... Of course, Ray looked so much like Luther that around him she found it difficult to keep that pretence. But after the initial shock and adjustment period, she had managed to get things under wraps surprisingly quickly. After sleeping on it she had managed to suppress most of those feelings again, back to her usual serious but cheerful self.
"Good." She echoed, scribbling down his role with a pleased nod. They needed to get the monastery habitable as quickly as possible, and Ray could certainly help with speeding things along.
She snorted, a smirk appearing on her face. "With your track record, I think perhaps it's best that if you do leave the camp it's with someone who knows the area." She chuckled, shaking her head as she recalled his map incident.
"Trodaire is notoriously difficult to navigate, but I will write down your interest nonetheless." She wrote it down, then put her clipboard back on the table, crossing her arms as she studied him.
"Now... Remove your shirt." She stated matter-of-factly, and eyebrow raising as she waited for him to comply. A small voice in the back of her head wondered if the rest of him looked as much like Luther as his face... She doubted it.

Xanto

 

[Bakuyoshi]

Cale was about ready to ask what Capture the Flag was when Angelo brought up the idea of him running into Angelo on the enemy team. And even as she was getting him ready Cale could only overthink "I mean even if you get me prepared I practically stand no chance to you or Aria! I'm sure the harpy won't have any shoe ammo but, I've kinda been raised to never hit a girl period. Unless they are intending on killing you. But this is a sparring event! What am I supposed to do-" He saw Angelo put their arms up to their face and Cale mimicked it. It was nearly the same position but Cale knew full well his arms weren't strong enough. "I hope you know this could end in my hands hitting me in the face if someone gets in a single hit." He whimpered as the only form of combat was with a Crossbow. None of this hand to hand stuff.

explosiveKitten

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"And this is the Armorcracker, still in progress but at the moment it is popular among collectors and Nobles. This baby packs a special type of ammo meant to crack the toughest armor. At the current stage we can breach chainmail but some of the higher caliber armors are still impervious to this stuff. And another downside is that the breaching of the armor is most of the punch to this. So it'd take 4 or so shots to even take someone down. But if you were to invest in this we can give you fine gentlemen a prototype to have as a collectable and once the full version is out that will come to you. It's a little on the expensive side but I'm sure higher ups like you are willing to put that tiny bit of money to help the future of our kingdom. After all gods know how long before the criminal problem in Ezeris gets to us."

Cale grabbed the blueprints as Priscilla was explaining the benefits of their new weapon. He wanted to correct her regarding the estimated number of shots to kill but he knew they had to get these Nobles on board for this. "Plus we could even get your names in when the Royal family gets a look at these finished weapons. And by that time they should be much better. And imagine your names being attached to the development of these things. Because of your contributions the Royal family could accept you into their inner circle." Cale could only say knowing the Nobles had to get credit in helping make these possible. And it would be those guys that got Credit while him and Priscilla would get a big sum of silver marks for making the weapon itself. It was nice to have a good amount but in the end those would go away and they'd have to make more inventions to get more money to keep them afloat. While these Nobles would still be at the top.

But as he was thinking his wondering eyes caught something. Something that he was instantly smitten with.

It was a women about his age, she was dressed as most women in Lorelthia were. She wore a somewhat worn tan Tunic. It's colors had somewhat faded. Maybe it was a hand me down from their family. Her brown hair reached her shoulders and was mostly straight until it got to the end where it partially curled. Her eyes were a beautiful near emerald green. She was in a corner of the tavern, which puzzled Cale. A girl as pretty as her alone in a tavern was rare. Usually all of the men would be trying to prove themselves to any girl like this. And then he remembered what his partner had said.

"Hey Priscilla I think you can handle the sale. I'm taking your advice on something."

Priscilla was confused but then followed Cales gaze. She smiled giving him a shove, "You forget who you are talking to."

 

[explosiveKitten]

Good gods, this guy’s arms are about as big as my pinkie finger... okay maybe that’s an exaggeration, but his arms are tiny.

“Cale, Calecalecale, calm down. If you’re lucky you won’t have to try to punch anyone. Besides, I won’t be able to teach you to throw a good punch in the amount of time we have anyway, so I’m just giving you a quick lesson on self-defense. Blocking punches, escaping from someone’s grip, stuff like that. Things you can use to get out of danger so you can run. Stuff like that.”

She looked at him once again and sighed inwardly. He would definitely need to start training as soon as possible, and that meant lots of lifting, running, jumping and... just, a lot. Stuff he wasn’t used to. “Well, you’re gonna have to hit some girls. Because they will not hesitate to hit you first. But that’s beside the point. Now, pay attention, this is important.”

She started to give him instructions on how to properly block attacks with his arms, but soon noticed that his head was in the clouds. Not uncommon, but definitely not a good time.
“Hey. Hey!” She waved a hand in front of his face, “Cale? You paying attention?”

Bakuyoshi

 

[Ms. Sparrow]

Azalea Eve Windfore

Gratitude washed through her at Baxter’s understanding. Trust was hard to come by these days, but he was choosing to trust her in her words, despite all the secrets. Azalea replied with a nod, a small smile gracing her lips.

She stuffed the thorn and the rest of her belongings back in her pockets and redid her the necklace around her neck with swift efficiency as Baxter explained her roles in the encampment. Azalea’s lips quirked upward in the corner of her mouth as Baxter mentioned being placed over the General’s authority when it came to archery training, Baxter’s expression helping to lighten her mood.

Of course, the expression had quickly faded, and she couldn’t help but wonder what his story was. How a man so young in his life was so serious, no doubt he had a great deal of weight resting on his shoulders now. His question snapped her from her silent examination.

Azalea grinned wryly, “Aye, sounds like a rum deal,” she said, taking a couple steps backwards towards the exit, “that’s enough gloom and doom for one day, don’t ya think?”

Azalea reached the tent flaps, her foot dangling behind her, already halfway outside, “though,” She drawled, her grin widening rather smugly, “hope you don’t mind dealing with the rotter you call a General, “ she said slyly with a wink, before stepping backwards and disappearing through the tent flaps.

She jolted as her foot came down with a crunch, turning around slowly to face the open clearing, she found the grass no longer, finding only a smooth, thin blanket of snow covering the green, Azalea gaped, aghast at the sight of snow.

She couldn’t believe the beauty of the snow. The tiny flakes fell slowly, drifting softly in the air until it stuck silently to the ground. The air was freezing, biting harshly at her pale face, though was only a small complaint to the beauty the snow gave off. Azalea took a few steps out into the open before turning her body slowly, letting her eyes take in the gift of snow, her expression lit up into a grin.


Xanto​

 

[Bakuyoshi]

Cale shook his head quickly. "Uh s-sorry. Not sure what caused but I was remembering a... happy time. So we were at my positioning right?" Cale's face was bright red. And at the moment the snow was offering little aid to protect it. "Heh this is snow huh?" In his head he thought it looked nice before the cold came "Oh gods how can people stand this? It's too damn cold. And outsiders mentioned this stuff was beautiful? Pass." Cale looked Angelo in the eyes. "I've got the positioning, now what?" He was ready to do anything to help fight this cold off. His teeth were gritted as he was fighting back against the bitter cold. Little puffs of steam came out of his mouth with every breath.

explosiveKitten

 

[Xanto]

Raymond Callahan​

Raymond tilted his head a bit listening to Aria's simple comment about his blacksmith role. Of course he would be assigned to that task. In a sense, blacksmithing ran in his blood. He didn't mind it either except for the fact that the set up usually felt twice as hot as the desert kingdom of Aubigine. It would be interesting to feel that kind of heat right next to Trodaire's snowy weather. Hopefully they'd blend somewhere in the middle.

The Princess Aria's smirk following shortly after her earlier comment forewarned Ray about the jab she was about to make at yesterday's map mishap. He slightly smiled as she chuckled before writing down his interest in scavenging and recruiting out of camp grounds on a more serious note. Thankfully Aria approved his suggestion to take a few trips out of the campsite. The man had never stayed locked on to one job. Plus, Raymond didn't want to be trapped in the blacksmith area. It was good that "exploring" and going on interesting missions would be dutifully integrated into his role.

What followed next was random despite the fact that Raymond knew he was at a screening. Aria's raised eyebrow didn't help either. With little to no hesitation, the guy let out a breath before standing up and smoothly removing his coat. His vest painfully came next as he held back a wince at the bruise that was starting to form on the right side of his back. Raymond's earlier spontaneous log battling left the mark when he hit the ground from carelessness. His hand reached over hanging the material on the chair prior to quickly yanking off his shirt, which he simply hung on the chair. Moving slowly wasn't going to ease the pain so he just decided to get the movement over with fast. Other than the forming bruise, Ray's athletic body type and the skin on it was okay.

The man clenched his jaw at the cold air he felt against his back. Wearing the three layers had kept him warm until now, "Who would you suggest I travel with?"

FrostFire

 

[FrostFire]

Morag 'Aria' MacLaird

Spoiler: Images

Aria watched as he undressed, noticing how the process caused him some pain, which he had done his best to hide. Her eyebrow rose further (if that was even possible) but she said nothing, and begun to circle him slowly, inspecting his physique. She found what was likely the cause of his suppressed pain, a red welt on his back which was quickly becoming an impressive bruise. The mark had been delivered by some force, and something relatively large, a wooden beam or a log she supposed, and quite recently.
"You should get an ice pack for that. Here-" She noted, pausing in her inspection as she went over to the desk and grabbed a cloth, knowing it had begun to snow earlier she exited the tent briefly, scooping up some of the fallen snow into the cloth and twisting it closed into a cold press. The weather was certainly taking a turn, not that it bothered Aria, who was used to such conditions, but she wondered how her foreign comrades would cope, knowing that many already in the Rebellion had and were still having a rather hard time with it.
Reentering the tent, she handed it to Ray, "Put that on it for now. It'll be sore for a few days, I'm afraid." She instructed, a grin accompanying her words. With her upbringing, Aria was no stranger to receiving, administering or treating minor injuries, and made a mental note to try and find some comfrey for both Ray and Angie.
Resuming her slow circling, she finally answered his earlier question. "That depends, of course, on who is leaving and who wishes for you to go along with them." Aria knew that she herself was often the one who left the camp on such missions, she had traversed the mountains of her homeland many a time, had dutifully memorised the maps and knew many a technique to find her way, meaning that in Trodaire Aria could never truly be lost.
"I am often the one entrusted with such tasks, but there are other Trodarians whom you might like to ask.", she chuckled, wondering if any would agree to let him along. She felt if he asked nicely enough and proved his abilities there would be no problem, a few soldiers at the Rebellion she had known before the invasion, and she was sure if she put a good word in for him they would welcome Ray with open arms, providing he lived up to their standards of course.
Finishing her inspection of his physique, she swiped up her paper and wrote down a brief summary, making sure to include the phrase 'somewhat accident prone' in her notes.
"You may put your clothes back on. Come and see me at dinner and I'll have an ointment for that bruise of yours.", she got the feeling she would be dishing out comfrey balm to Ray regularly, he seemed the type that the phrase 'curiosity killed the cat' was intended for.
The small voice in the back of her head couldn't help but mention that Luther had certainly had a much more impressive physique, but Aria silenced it quickly. Luther had been one of the best soldiers in the castle garrison, if all... This hadn't happened, he would have likely become the General... General Arwein had always had a soft spot for him.
Moving swiftly away from her thoughts on the past, Aria continued.
"That's all we really have to discuss. There will be a game of capture the flag once everyone has been screened, so stay in this area. Any questions?" She cocked her head slightly, looking forward to the game despite the fact that she would not be participating.

Xanto

 

[Xanto]

Baxter Callahan​

Baxter seriously observed whatever absurd human was before him. One moment Azalea was stiff and nearly silent then the next she was gliding out the tent with a grin. His arms folded themselves across his chest as he nodded at her question about being done with "gloom and doom." She did mention him having to deal with Whitefield though. It was an obstacle that Bax knew he would have to tackle some day.

For the most part he and the general were okay considering that they usually only talked about business. Baxter was aware that the general did possess negative behaviors to women in power though. It was coincidental since three princesses just so happened to arrive at the same time . . along with a hidden prince and someone that looked like a couple royals. The rebel leader sighed at the unique group he had taken in. From his memory, the only "normal" one seemed to be the young looking fellow in armor. Everyone else was either royal or . . his brother.

Baxter silently blinked at Azalea's wink just as she disappeared right before his eyes. He was beginning to notice a trend in the type of behavior the woman carried. For a few moments, Bax took the time to sit down messaging the temples of his head. It was now a fact that he wouldn't make it to his meeting on time.

It only took a few seconds for him to scribble some notes on paper and tear it away from the pad. With that, Baxter exited the tent just in time to be greeted by a guard. "Take this to William. Carry on with the meeting and present final potential decisions tomorrow. I have an urgent matter to take care of," He mentioned without shifting his gaze from the splayed out group on the now snowy field. Whether he liked it or not, they were a handful that needed to be observed.

Baxter's peripheral vision caught Raymond exiting just in time officially signaling that screenings were over. "Capture the flag!" Baxter bellowed walking to the middle of the field with his hands behind his back, "Everyone screened by Aria will be on my team and vice versa. Rules are simple! No killing, no collateral damage, and get the flag. Sparring only, stay in bounds, no dying, and get the damn flag. UNDERSTOOD?!" On that note, Baxter made his way to the right side of the field, "Huddle with your teams now!" Yes, he intentionally reworded the rules for extra clarification.

Ms. Sparrow explosiveKitten FrostFire Bakuyoshi SandraDeelightful Blackrose7

Raymond Callahan​

Raymond rubbed the back of his neck as Aria circled around him. Her shoes almost silently stepping on the ground until they came to a sudden stop. No doubt that she was probably eyeing the soon-to-be bruise behind him. Oh Ray could see it now. The nagging that might result from his later honest confession to Baxter. Luckily, he didn't have to deal with both Baxter and Aria at the same time . . yet. The man calmly shut his eyes expecting another "RAYMOND CALLAHAN" from her, but was relieved and somewhat surprised when Aria went out of her way to get an ice pack for him. At this, his eyes opened as he looked over his shoulder with his gaze briefly following her out of the tent.

It didn't take long for a grinning Aria to return with her own makeshift ice pack and hand it to him. Now that he thought of it, Trodaire was a kingdom known for its military engagements. As its princess, Aria was probably trained in helping heal the injuries she would encounter during battles. Raymond moved his left arm behind his torso holding the snow pack to his skin.

The sound of her steps resumed circling around Raymond while he narrowed his attention to his screener. Apparently, she was often the one galavanting around though there were others who he might be able to accompany as well. Ray didn't mind if he was accompanying his brother or a stranger. It was just good news that he could still get some air time away from the encampment. A change of scenery every once in a while was what the man personally needed. That, and there was still so much outside of the gates that he needed to understand. Where did those Shades really come from anyway?

Raymond's eyes followed Aria as she jotted down a few more notes. Soon enough, he was given permission to wear his clothes again. "Good, I was beginning to think that you were taking a liking to my bruise," Raymond mentioned quickly pulling his shirt on and grabbing his vest from the chair. It was a joke of course. Aria seemed to pay the most attention to it and with great urgency as well. With a playful grimace, the man pulled his vest on before buttoning it halfway. There was no injury for him to hide anyway. "Thank you," He shortly replied in response to the bruise ointment she planned on retrieving for him.

On that note, Aria announced that his screening finally ended. Ray's eyes widened in excitement at the mention of a game though. He enjoyed games whether he won or lost. The last time he played capture the flag though was when he and Baxter were still teenagers. Aria's voice snapped Ray away from a potential flashback asking him if he had any questions. "Only one," He made his way over to the exit and held the tent flap open with his arm for her to pass, "Do you have a log pile? I can help fix it." It was better that Aria heard the broken updates from him about the log set up rather than anyone else. Hiding the split log on the ground and the other log that was still hanging but missing a fourth would have been an impractical challenge.

Baxter soon caught Ray's attention though with his announcements about the game.

FrostFire

 

[SandraDeelightful]

Princess Aurelie Beauchampe of Aubigine

​

Aurelie couldn't help but give a genuine smile as Clyde approached her. She always wanted nothing more than to be a wife and a mother. She simply wanted to be a caretaker, since she depended on so many people. She didn't want to be a queen. She had no idea where she would even begin. But when it came to being a wife and mother, she knew just where to begin. Devotion. Complete and utter devotion. For someone who always shied away from talking with people, she had always spoke so easy to children. It was easier, perhaps because she was always seen as the child, no matter how old she got.

"Yes, I am a princess," said Aurelie, her voice gentle and sweet. It was so much unlike the timid and quiet voice she had normally spoken in. Not just since she had fled from her kingdom. But the voice that she tended to use all the time, whenever she was around anybody. But, Aurelie was someone who loved to nurture. "I don't know anyone here who know's hypnosis."

Aurelie's voice was kind as she softly corrected his words. After a moment, she continued:

"My name is Aurelie. What's yours?"

Her face fell as it was called that it was time for capture the flag. She was certainly not looking forward to that. She had no athletic ability whatsoever, and she avoided any sort of confrontation at any cost.

"Well, I'm afraid I must go now," said Aurelie, her face falling, but her voice still sweet. "It was lovely talking to you."

Xanto

 

[explosiveKitten]

“Happier times, huh? ... sounds wonderful.” She said, looking at him with a faint hint of envy in her eyes, before she wiped the look off her face entirely.

She did what she could, you know?

Cale was a flimsy young man, no doubt. But hopefully Angie had managed to teach him something about defending himself. She threw a few (weak) punches, testing his reflexes and making sure he was taking in as much as he could. Hopefully it would be useful, because he was on his own.

She looked up at Baxter when he started shouting about the rules for this bout of capture the flag, stating that the teams would divided based on who had been screened by who. Meaning, Cale was indeed on the opposite team. Angie blinked, then turned and raised an eyebrow at him with an “I told you so” smirk before clapping him on the shoulder and walking over to Baxter, wiping her face clean of emotion as she approached.

Bakuyoshi Xanto

 

[Bakuyoshi]

Cale could only watch in a blank expression hiding his horror. "I am so doomed." Was all he could think as he watched his trainer go to the other side. It wasn't Baxter he felt he had to worry about the most. It was Angelo, the man who saw all of Cales mannerisms. His teacher and the one who knows how Cale can fight like the back of their own hands. Cale was doomed if he even got into an encounter with Angelo. He was happy he was on a team with the tougher Aria but even then he knew he couldn't just talk her into taking on Angelo while Cale tried to take on someone else.

But for now he had to look around to his fellow teamates. It was as usual mostly female. Thankfully that Anabel was with him. But then he saw her, Princess Azalea, Yet she seemed different, "Is she smiling when it comes to the snow? I mean she is a princess so it may not be out of the question that she didn't get to go out often." Cale still could not comprehend why it is that people liked this snow. It was hard on the eyes and cold to the touch.

Cale shuddered when he found himself missing the cold rain of Lorelthia, which in comparison was warmer then this. He had no idea but now that he calmed down he found himself homesick. He missed the oddly rough feeling his workbench had, he missed the heat of the Barracks, the sound of other engineers in times of anger or happiness, the warm sting of stray embers from the forges, the rhythm of his job where it almost felt like the tools themselves were singing. "That's why I have to do this." He accidentally blurted out loud as his gaze shifted south. His thoughts were with his home that was now in ruins. Yet he had know idea who heard his accdidental outburst to no one in particular. And could only hope no one was close enough to hear it. And waiting for the game to begin.

FrostFire Blackrose7 Ms. Sparrow Xanto