The Queen's Madness (Open)


The Obsidian Executioner

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Asavar gave a deep rumbling 'Mm' to the Old Man's talk of retirement as he always did. He gaze flicked over Joran as he examined his sword, apparently lost in thought. Vowforger, a fine blade, one of the best he had ever seen and... well, Asavar had seen plenty. One of the few blades avaliable to the Guard that could stand up to his own large blade. Asavar tilted his head, letting the Old Man run through his thoughts as Asavar pondered his own, did Joran know about the Tavern? Likely, Joran tended to keep his ear to the ground, but unlike the others, Joran wouldn't have been afraid to tell him... so why had it taken so long for Asavar to find out?


"No," Asavar said, his lip twitching at the inside jest, "Still lack the proper... finesse," he said for lack of a better word. To be blunt, he was simply too big for the technique. Even if he was more dexterous, he simply was too large. If he tried to roll 'under' the blade swing of normal human, he would be rolling into the blade. Simply couldn't fit under it.


Asavar looked up at the setting sun, "Today has been.... eventful," he said, settling on a word. He would talk more to Joran about the tavern matter later, away from prying ears, turning his attention back to the Older Guard he questioned, "And the recruits? How are they coming, some of them seem to not be worth the effort. Should I arrange for them to be transferred down to the city or castle guard?"


 
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<p><span style="font-family:'Times New Roman';"><span style="font-size:24px;"><strong>Joran Stronham</strong></span></span></p>


<br /><br /><span style="font-family:'Times New Roman';"><span style="font-size:24px;">


</span></span><span style="font-family:'Times New Roman';"><span style="font-size:24px;"><strong>Knight of the Queen's Guard</strong></span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:'Times New Roman';"><span style="font-size:24px;">


</span></span><span style="font-family:'Times New Roman';"><span style="font-size:24px;"><strong>"The Steel Wolf"</strong></span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:'Times New Roman';"><span style="font-size:24px;">


</span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:'Times New Roman';">


</span><span style="font-family:'Times New Roman';"><span style="font-size:14px;">Joran would sigh as he sheathed Vowforger, listening on to Asavar's reply</span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:'Times New Roman';"><span style="font-size:14px;">


as he mentally went over the Castle patrols. It was an extremely secure</span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:'Times New Roman';"><span style="font-size:14px;">


system, but the amount of guards needed to carry it out was too large for</span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:'Times New Roman';">


the amount of forces before the Queen's reign to execute. And so, Joran</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:'Times New Roman';">


had ordered the recruitment of more willing men for the Castle Guard.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:'Times New Roman';">


The former mercenary shifted his gaze towards his gargantuan pupil,</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:'Times New Roman';">


tracking his vision towards the amber half-circle that illuminated the sky</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:'Times New Roman';">


with its reach. Joran sighed as he reminisced on days and adventures</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:'Times New Roman';">


long past. He wondered what Asavar had meant by "eventful", as Joran had</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:'Times New Roman';">


been rather busy training the Castle guard recruits, rather than managing the</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:'Times New Roman';">


Queen's forces within the capital city...</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:'Times New Roman';">Suddenly, Asavar would turn to him, resulting in Joran's</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:'Times New Roman';">


attention redirecting to his fellow Queen's Guard. He sighed</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:'Times New Roman';">


as Asavar spoke of demoting the men, which Joran shook his head to.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:'Times New Roman';">


The Westerner crossed his arms and eyed Asavar with a slight frown.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:'Times New Roman';">


"</span><span style="font-family:'Times New Roman';"><strong><span style="color:#b35900;">Many said you weren't worth the effort. 'An ogre can't be tamed,</span></strong></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:'Times New Roman';">


</span><span style="font-family:'Times New Roman';"><span style="color:#b35900;"><strong>especially one from the slums'. Aye, that's what they said, but I figured</strong></span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:'Times New Roman';"><span style="color:#b35900;">


</span></span><span style="font-family:'Times New Roman';"><span style="color:#b35900;"><strong>otherwise. And now look at you. You could tear your old mentor apart in</strong></span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:'Times New Roman';"><span style="color:#b35900;">


</span></span><span style="font-family:'Times New Roman';"><span style="color:#b35900;"><strong>a duel and you have a position most men would die for. I'll give the</strong></span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:'Times New Roman';"><span style="color:#b35900;">


</span></span><span style="font-family:'Times New Roman';"><span style="color:#b35900;"><strong>recruits some time. Those who fail to deliver will be transfered to their</strong></span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:'Times New Roman';"><span style="color:#b35900;">


</span></span><span style="font-family:'Times New Roman';"><span style="color:#b35900;"><strong>rightful locations, but I have faith in the lot of them. Like I had faith</strong></span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:'Times New Roman';">


</span><span style="font-family:'Times New Roman';"><strong><span style="color:#b35900;">in you.</span></strong></span><span style="font-family:'Times New Roman';">"</span><br /><br /><br /><br /></div>


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<p><span style="color:#0000b3;">Amunet was in some distant darkened small alcove for the day. She couldn't find a place with room of any sort and she was getting tired just as dawn was approaching. The woman had moved a huge boulder I front to block any sunlight from drifting in. There she rested for the day to regain her composure for a new evening. Hearing the trickling of a stream not so far off gave her an idea to bathe quickly once she rose up. Which she did in this exact moment and she moved about to stand dusting off dirt as she raised her hands to shake out her hair free of any sand. The alcove she found wasn't far from a lake where she would go dipping. </span></p>


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She didn't bother looking around for lost things as they were placed in the previous spot from this morning. Grabbing her satchel and cloak she carried them in one hand and headed to the blocked entrance. Leaning against the boulder just a little to give her room enough to slip through and she did just that. Fresh air tickling her nose as she headed in the direction of the small stream that headed towards the lake. Pleased at the sight it presented to her she dropped her satchel and cloak along with clothing within the wake of her steps... </span><br /><br /><span style="color:#0000b3;">


-Sometime later-</span><br /><br /><span style="color:#0000b3;">


Amunent had finished her refreshing bath in the lake undisputed by anything. She had enough coin to gain her lodging for a few nights until she can carry on. In the midst of waking of she did hear that not far off there was some type of in just a couple miles down. Moving her braid some as she clasped her freshened cloak about her shoulders hiding the rest of her form. She didn't bother with her hood as she swung the satchel over her frame across her body. She looked like some lone woman Traveller. She didn't have the means to feed for the evening she was satisfied the night before which took all night. Amunet didn't care about where to sleep yet she did prefer a bed of sorts. Let one hope that this place will offer as such. Some get offended because she doesn't come out during the day. </span><br /><br /><span style="color:#0000b3;">


Amunet had set about walking down that road heading towards the sounds from this establishment. All she knew was that there were people there and it hopefully appeared to be the type she blended in with. The woman didn't talk much to people. None have come close enough to gain real knowledge about her. There were times she grew weary of people and stayed away. </span><br /><br /><span style="color:#0000b3;">


-Some minutes later.-</span><br /><br /><span style="color:#0000b3;">


The walk didn't last long for her as she finally headed down the road towards the inn. Her speculations were just right. This place held an air about it different than most places. People were fighting, drinking all types of people of different ilks. Lost in thought as she listened to everyone she almost ran into the door of the place. Raising a hand to pause herself as she looked up at the signage and she raised a brow. Apparently there was even commotion happening outside. A faint brow raised some as she shook her head. Amunet may be nosey about it in a few. Just watch, and get a feel of this place. The woman pushed upon the door as she stepped over the threshold. What one expects to see of her is a woman of fair height, slight tint to her cheeks, ocean color eyes with auburn locks pulled into a lazy braid donned with a dark green cloak hiding most of her frame. </span><br /><br /><span style="color:#0000b3;">


Those very eyes roamed the place as she let go of the door and shutting it closed with her foot and she noticed the place was rather busy. She didn't react to that as she noticed a booth not far off to her left that was empty so she strides to the booth to claim it as her own. She weaves around whoever on silent feet and finally slid into a seat staking claim to her booth. </span>


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  • I nodded vehemently at mr. Allan's words, with a smile shining brightly to him. I didn't quite understand his words, but the idea of the chef giving me a treat was hypnotizing, so I didn't even question. However, his thoughts on telling ms. Emmony to "stop being lazy" were a completely different ordeal.


    "But...she isn't being lazy, right? I mean, she's blind, she should be being taken care of and let relax rather than made work. Stella told me that we should take care of people who are hurt or sick."


    I nodded at what he said next and entered the bar after the girls. I was a couple steps in when I nearly bumped into an odd-looking lady, at least by tavern standards. Actually take that back: beauty or oddity were both too common there for taht to be true. But she was intriguing nonetheless...either way, though, not someone I should be agreeing. I picked up the bucket and the cloth that I had forgotten and yawned. The scare before probably had progressed my need for rest even more. I wasn't sure how long I had or if I wouldn't suddenly fall asleep on my way somewhere...again. I ran to the kitchen, knowing the hourglass was turned.


    In it, allI found was a Emmony and the chef: exactly the two people I needed to see, but not the two people I wanted to see at the same time. It felt bad to ask for a treat in sequence to or right before giving ms. Emmony's mr. Allan's message: for her to not be lazy and get to work. I stopped in my tracks and shook a little, ashamed.


    "G-g-good af-afternoon ms. Emmony..." I greeted her, turning to the chef just so I could avoid keep staring at the animal on the ground. "And to you too Frank."


    @ianbabyyy @LadyArdent @Supermegabrenda2


    @scatteredambitions


 
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Emmony jumped in surprise at the sound of her name. She'd been so focused on the damn shapeshifter, she hadn't even noticed anyone coming in. It took her a moment to process, but a large grin crossed her face at the realization that the voice was Breeze's, her prior agitation already slipping from her mind. "Hello dearest Breeze. I was wondering what you've been up to. I haven't seen you all night. Well, figuratively." The cook simply grunted in response. Emmony held her hand out for the boy. She absolutely adored the child, and had been the driving force behind 'adopting' him. Allan had grumbled but, though he'd never admit it, he'd come to care for him too.


@Idea @Scattered Ambitions


 
Miziki Kurone

@Idea @ianbabyyy


Miziki nodded. Check the cellar for the sap ale? Easy enough. "Okay, I'll go look. Thanks again." She replied. Standing she walked over and put her plate in the sink then proceeded to make her way to the dimly lit cellar. Summoning a small spirit light in her hand she grabbed a mug and looked around for the keg that was supposed to be labeled 'sap ale'. Luckily it wasn't to far in the back, and easy to get to. She quickly filled the mug and exited the cellar, ultimately making her way to the bar. "Um. Who wanted the sap ale?" She asked, looking between the bar patrons.
 



  • The monk didn´t seem all to talkative after that, and I didn´t insist too much either. Perhaps it was for the best, perhaps this way at least he wouldn´t be asking questions, perhaps he ´didn´t want to be bothered. Considering the stakes, I wouldn´t try to bother him either. As if in cue, a girl appeared, with fox tails and ears... A kitsune, it would appear. She looked fairly young, in fact I might confuse her for a child, was she not carrying a mug of a drink of a certain, very familiar and distinct color. And name too, as she spelled it out. My arm shot up like an arrow as my heart throbbed with joy. I couldn´t believe I actually found a place that sold sap ale here! In this kingdom! I hadn´t seen any semblance of these people even knowing mantids decently, it was a miracle anyone here had gotten their hands on enough to fill a mug!


    Sap ale was the final product of the distinctive magical mark of mantid magic and culture applied to a drink. A mixture of water, honey, treated amber and preserving in more amber. Many genemancers personally took care of the matter, as their complex flesh magic was necessary to get it to brew exactly right with the treated amber. Psionic magic was then used to break through the amber where the mixture was preserved, causing it to fall in drops that were collected, each of these quickly going from semi-solid to liquid. A beauty to watch and a delicacy to drink, so much that only high-positioned mantid got to drink it.


    I waited with anxiety for the mug to come.


    @Mitchs98
 
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Emmony went through a strange range of emotions as Breeze related his evening. Amusement over him being late, pride over his success with the fire breathing and his cleaning, concern at the thought of him being scared by something, and then sheer confusion at the mention of Allan's 'girlfriend'. She honestly wasn't sure which part to focus on first. Maybe go in order? That seemed like a good plan.


She smile gently. "I'm very proud of you for how well you're doing. I hope you're alright though," she said, brow scrunching in concern. "Did they scare you too bad? Was anyone there to help you? Was Allan there?" Okay, the girlfriend part could wait until after she was sure Breeze was alright.


@Idea
 

The Obsidian Executioner

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"I am aware," Asavar said brusquely, he knew only too well the things they used to say as many did not bother to say it out of his hearing as any act of violence on his part would have given them a strong cause to throw him out of training and back into the stables with the other beast. His right fist clenched then slackened at his side, the memories calling forth the familiar sting of pain and the dull throb of barely leashed rage. Forcing his hand to relax and willing his mind back to the present, he tapped two large fingers against the steel plate covering his leg as he thought it over.


Many of the group simply wouldn't make it. It wasn't a matter of training, it was instinct. Something that couldn't be taught. Any man, or woman, could be trained well enough to become a good warrior, but only a few had the natural talent to become a Queen's Guard. Especially the boy who had so much trouble getting back into the fight after being thrown. He didn't have the resolve. He was soft, weak. The idea of such 'men' protecting the Queen, his Queen, was preposterous. While they were here, they were taking up spots that could better be given to more talent prospects, and...


Asavar looked to his side, and straight down, at Jaron, it would be better for him to do it now before the Old Man grew too attached to them. It would only be harder if the Old Man had to train them, take them further under his wing only for them to not make the cut and have to be sent back. His dark eyes searched the Old Man's face from within his dark helm before he gave a small nod of consent, "Very well, you will have your time," he consented.


He knew it was not the right choice, the efficient choice, but... Well, he owed the Old Man this small concession. Turning his eyes back to the shrinking sun, the brilliant rays of orange and crimson filling the darkening sky, "You do know that, as the Commander, I am supposed to be chastening you. Not the other way around." Asavar said blandly.





@KillThemAll
 
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Joran Stronham


Knight of the Queen's Guard


"The Steel Wolf"





Joran chuckled at this, his arms still crossed as he peered down at the dirt.


"Yes, well, I've never been very good at listening," the old warrior admitted


as he shifted his gaze back to Asavar. The much taller man had always been


dark and gloomy, something that, personally, bothered Joran. However,


Asavar wasn't the first man of that type that Joran had encountered, so


he knew what to say and what to not bother trying.


"Have you heard the news from Camelot? Lord Gregor of Whytewynd is


waging war with House Sinclair of the Mountains. That's dangerously close


to our borders," Joran would inform Asavar. He reeked of concern, never enjoying


the idea of an imminent battle, especially one without a direct message to back


it. It was far too unpredictable for the old warrior to care less about. Joran would then


sigh as he went on to give Asavar his suggestions on their situation on Lathien's


Northern border.


"That means soldiers of both sides disrupting trade and possibly even trespassing


on Lathien soil. Considering that you're the Enforcer of the Queen, it's only appropriate


I request from you that we increase border patrols in the North. Our people are on edge


already, and the possibility of raiding parties will only add to their paranoia."




@Cosmo​
 
Idea said:

  • The monk didn´t seem all to talkative after that, and I didn´t insist too much either. Perhaps it was for the best, perhaps this way at least he wouldn´t be asking questions, perhaps he ´didn´t want to be bothered. Considering the stakes, I wouldn´t try to bother him either. As if in cue, a girl appeared, with fox tails and ears... A kitsune, it would appear. She looked fairly young, in fact I might confuse her for a child, was she not carrying a mug of a drink of a certain, very familiar and distinct color. And name too, as she spelled it out. My arm shot up like an arrow as my heart throbbed with joy. I couldn´t believe I actually found a place that sold sap ale here! In this kingdom! I hadn´t seen any semblance of these people even knowing mantids decently, it was a miracle anyone here had gotten their hands on enough to fill a mug!


    Sap ale was the final product of the distinctive magical mark of mantid magic and culture applied to a drink. A mixture of water, honey, treated amber and preserving in more amber. Many genemancers personally took care of the matter, as their complex flesh magic was necessary to get it to brew exactly right with the treated amber. Psionic magic was then used to break through the amber where the mixture was preserved, causing it to fall in drops that were collected, each of these quickly going from semi-solid to liquid. A beauty to watch and a delicacy to drink, so much that only high-positioned mantid got to drink it.


    I waited with anxiety for the mug to come.


    @Mitchs98
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Miziki Kurone

Miziki looked around, eventually spotting the human sized bug creature at the bar...HUMAN SIZED BUG CREATURE?! She nearly jumped out of her skin and spilt the sap ale at the sight of it. Or rather him. She'd never exactly seen such a creature before, nor was she sure how she didn't see it until now. But it was there, and definetely a thing. A very..creepy thing, but a thing. She slowly inched towards Kneckt and sat the mug down in front of him. "Um..there you go sir. Do..do you need anything else?" She asked, trying not to stare so much but also not sure if he'd fine it rude she was clearly trying not to look at him.


It was all very confusing, really. "I..ah..sorry, what are you? Exactly..?" She questioned further, figuring maybe he wasn't actually some kind of freaky death warrior assassin bug and just looked like it. Hopefully. Oh she was probably going to die now..
 
"Aye, fine, I'm going." Seera grumbles to herself as she walked out. She was at the door when a little boy came in, and addressed the blind girl. She walk past him and out into the main area. The girl plopped down at one of the tables, and amused herself by watching the people around her and mimic what they looked like and what they were doing.
 



  • My heart nearly skipped a beat at the girl´s reaction. By an inch she didn´t drop the precious ale! Truthfully, it wouldn´t be TOO bad since I was yet to pay for it, but the sheer idea of losing such a precious thing to such a dumbfounding reaction could not exactly qualify as "good". Fortunately, the girl got a hold of herself and brought me the ale.


    "Thank you very much." My mandibules clicked. I would have dived right in, before I realized I was lacking a fundamental question, to which I pulled a fist-sized pack of silver dragons. "How much will you charge me for this?"


    The question she asked had an obvious answer, though considering how young she looked and place we were in, she might actually have had no contact with mantid ever or been told about my kin. The monk was still next to me, making me wonder if this was part of someone´s plan also, though the more pieces there were to this puzzle, the more complicated it became to decipher ANY meaning they COULD have. I thought I might as well tell her the obvious part, but stick with the important to myself.


    "Me? I am a mantid, young...hum... Well, your colleague before didn´t answer this, but, how should I address the workers in this establishment? And if it´s not too rude to ask, that reaction a little ago... Well, could you tell me the reason? I don´t want to see something that sap ale ACTUALLY being spilt by anything I can correct."


    @Decay @Mitchs98


 
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She hated herself for it, she really did. It was just so hard to contain it. She really shouldn't have, it wasn't appropriate, and it certainly wasn't very nice. From the tone of her voice, she knew it would be the absolute worst thing to do, she just couldn't help herself.


Emmony laughed.


The woman tried really hard to stifle it behind her hand, but she was sure it managed to slip out anyways. He was just so adorable, and that mistake was super cute. She tried to make up for it though, amusement in her voice as she said, "Breeze, if you mistook them for grim reapers, I'm absolutely sure there was good reason for you to be mistaken. They must have had scary armor and been covered and skull and things, the way grim reapers would be imagined.


"And yes, that creature did in fact talk. I believe it was a shapeshifter, and a little bit of a rude one at that." Her face grew serious then, hand fiddling with the scarf on her eyes, heavily resisting the urge to look into the near past and betray her brother's privacy. She had no shame in picking Breeze's brain however. "Soooo, what do you mean by Allan's... 'girlfriend'?" If that dratted man was in a relationship and hadn't told her, she'd beat him with a stick.


@Idea
 
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  • I looked away. I didn´t want to tell her not to laugh, and I could never call ms. Emmony a meanie, but something about her laughter this time around just made my heart sink and my hands fly right back to my face, covering with a "splat" sound.


    "How did...how did you know they had that skull armor?" I inquired, shocked by the fact Emmony had Emmony somehow knew about how the twins looked like. I hadn´t told her, that was for sure, and Emmony couldn´t have seen it either, she was blind! As far as I knew, ms. Emmony hadn´t used her powers right now, though I had never actually seen her use them, so I couldn´t tell. I only knew because she told me, and later, mr. Allan had confirmed it. Thinking of which, it was about time wasn´t it? I still needed to give ms. Emmony her brother´s message, but I still couldn´t bring myself to do that. I couldn´t say such mean things to her.


    "A shapeshifter? Shouldn´t we try to grab it with a rope? They say it brings good luck if we do!" I excitedly looked around for a rope, taking my hands off my face so I could quickly open the closets, causing a series of small glasses to shake with the force. I felt a "thump" in my head, a soft wooden hit from the chef´s spoon as she shook his head with a bitter gaze. I stopped trying to search for a rope then, embarrassed and slowly walked back to Emmonny who still had a smile on her face.


    "Mr.Allan´s. Well, I saw him with her, when I was talking to the scary succubi. He was walking around alone with her through the streets, and they were holding hands and seemed rather close... isn´t that what couples do? Romantic strolls at ngith and holding hands?" I titled my head. "Stella´s books always had the boyfriends and girlfriend´s do that..."


    @ianbabyyy


 
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Ashleigh

A sword clatter to the ground, followed quickly by the sound of a body hitting the cobblestone, the man groaned, as Ashleigh coldly stepped over him, "Next?", she questioned boredly. "You stuck up bitch", a recruit shouted as he rushed her from behind, he swung his sword as he closed the distance. Ashleigh effortlessly whips the blade to the ground with her parrying dagger, before sweeping the man's feet from beneath him.


She sighed, as he hit the ground just as the man before him, *They always react the same way*, she mused to herself, as she walked to her new quaters.
 

The Obsidian Executioner

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Asavar let out a short grunt of agreement, yes, the Old Man never was good at that. It wouldn't surprise him to know that the Old Man had known about the Tavern and hadn't told him for fear of his reaction to the knowledge, perhaps thought he would storm there and create a bloodbath, which, he conceded, he had almost done just this morning and still wanted to do. He couldn't help but wonder, what other secrets he was keeping from him?


His eyes ran over the Old Man's face as he talked of Camelot, of his home, watching for any signs of... well, Asavar wasn't certain what he was looking for. "I heard," Asavar said, he wasn't sure if he was pleased that the information had passed to Joran, but he wasn't surprised it had. He almost would have preferred it if any news of Camelot was kept away from his old teacher.


"Lord Gregor," Asavar said tapping his fingers, once more, against his plated leg as he thought. It had been another issue he had been thinking on all day. He couldn't spare many men, a strong force needed to remain encamped nearby, to remind the Kingdom who was in charge, and the rest were spread thin keeping the peace, or, what remained of it.


"I will dispatch three platoons on the morrow," Asavar said finally, it was one more then he wanted to, but he didn't want to wake up and find the Old Man had run off to take the fight to his old foe now that he was so close for the first time in years.


"It isn't much, I know," Asavar conceded, "But I can't afford to spare more. I will pen a proclamation to be delivered to the border lords, they will support the Queen's Forces with what men-at-arm and house guard they have."


"I cannot spare you, Old Man," Asavar said, not wanting the Old Man to even begin to think he would allow him to head north with the soldiers, "Not now."


Asavar tilted his head, "I will be leading a patrol into the city tomorrow, something small, just me and perhaps a few others. Pick two of your best recruits, I will take them with me. See how they preform in the field."





@KillThemAll
 
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Joran Stronham

Knight of the Queen's Guard


"The Steel Wolf"





Joran sighed as he thought on it. Three platoons? Lord


Gregor's army could quash it, give or take a few failures.


That worried the Steel Wolf immensely, his eyes


darting around in thought. He let out a few breaths,


clenched and unclenched his hands, and finally


spoke.





"You are the Commander, if that


is what you believe is best, then so


be it."


Joran sighed and crossed his arms,


thirsting heavily for Honey Dwarf ale.


He'd think on who he would want to


send. Ultimately, he thought of


Richard and Wilf, whom he


settled on sending. As for the


lack of men to the North, he'd have


to convince Asavar later.





"Richard and Wilf will accompany you.


Richard can perform better than you've seen,


I worked him down for a few hours.


Tough lad. Wilf is good at his stances,


a natural, but doesn't think practically."





Joran sighed again and would turn,


beginning to walk off in order to get


some much needed rest.





"Don't worry, son, I won't


fail you, and you won't fail


me."


And so, the Steel Wolf


retreated to slumber.









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She chuckled. "I guessed," she responded to his inquiry about their armor. "The Lore on Grim Reapers usually mentions a great deal on skulls, so I figured that was the most likely reason you had mistaken them. You're a very smart boy, I knew there was no way you'd mistake them without a good reason."


The woman listened to him dig around in the closets, and heard the soft thump of the chef's spoon. She stifled her grin, saying, "I don't think we should be typing anyone up tonight anyways, it's getting late. If we see the creature again, we can try then." At the further mention of Allan and his girlfriend, Emmony scowled. How could he possibly have a girlfriend, and not have told her about it? And further more, why had she not met the girl? These were important things to know!


"Yes, Breeze, a lot of couples do that. If Allan is doing such things, I'm going to hit him with a stick. I wholly approve of him finally finding a woman he's actually interested in, but the dratted man should have told me." The woman pouted, before shaking herself. "I'll just have to deal with that later. In the meantime Breeze, you should head off to bed. It's getting late and I'm sure you're tired." She cast a kind smile in his direction.


@Idea
 
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<p><span style="color:#0059b3;">Amunet literally sat there just watching everything at the moment. Clutching her satchel as she wasn't sure if anyone would approach her. She wasn't sure who was who. Who worked here? Who does the serving? Flustered she let go of her satchel and moved out from the seat where she previously occupied. Amunet meandered around some guests who may possibly be drunk. One just didn't know she kept it to herself. </span></p>


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Looking around with those blue eyes as she finally found an empty barstool. Without a second thought she slides atop the seat at the bar. She removed her satchel and placed it above the bar top in front of her. Once that was done she raised a hand to undo her cloak. It fell off her shoulders revealing her gown. It was a simple one of a similar green close to her cloak color. It was trimmed with a silver filigree at the hem and arm sleeves. It hugged her upper form and let way at her waist the material loose to allow movement. Black flats peeping beneath the hem of her gown. </span><br /><br /><span style="color:#0059b3;">


Auburn strands tickled her cheek as she looked up at the bar. Who was the bartender? Was there q barmaid? She just wanted to order a simple ale. Would she drink it? One wouldn't know. What she order food to eat? No.. A little frustrated she spoke up it enough to be heard, fangs never seen. "</span><span style="color:#0059b3;"><em>Hello?!? Could a woman please get a simple tankard of ale?"</em></span><span style="color:#0059b3;"> Amunet was highly frustrated at this point. She wasn't sure from where but there was a lot of noise happening with some clamoring. </span><br /><br /><span style="color:#0059b3;">


Yes, this lady was frustrated. She was sort of second guessing even coming here. After the ale if she were to receive any she would ask for room and board... or quite possibly leave to other places. Maybe find someone worth playing around with. She had fed a few nights ago, but one more never hurts. The thought alone toned her frustrations just a little bit. </span>


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Idea said:



  • My heart nearly skipped a beat at the girl´s reaction. By an inch she didn´t drop the precious ale! Truthfully, it wouldn´t be TOO bad since I was yet to pay for it, but the sheer idea of losing such a precious thing to such a dumbfounding reaction could not exactly qualify as "good". Fortunately, the girl got a hold of herself and brought me the ale.


    "Thank you very much." My mandibules clicked. I would have dived right in, before I realized I was lacking a fundamental question, to which I pulled a fist-sized pack of silver dragons. "How much will you charge me for this?"


    The question she asked had an obvious answer, though considering how young she looked and place we were in, she might actually have had no contact with mantid ever or been told about my kin. The monk was still next to me, making me wonder if this was part of someone´s plan also, though the more pieces there were to this puzzle, the more complicated it became to decipher ANY meaning they COULD have. I thought I might as well tell her the obvious part, but stick with the important to myself.


    "Me? I am a mantid, young...hum... Well, your colleague before didn´t answer this, but, how should I address the workers in this establishment? And if it´s not too rude to ask, that reaction a little ago... Well, could you tell me the reason? I don´t want to see something that sap ale ACTUALLY being spilt by anything I can correct."


    @Decay @Mitchs98


Click to expand...
Miziki Kurone

Miziki looked completely confused when he asked how much the ale was. That was a good question..infact, she had no idea how much anything cost. At all. "Uhhhh....I..don't know. I uh..just got hired here." She explained with a shrug. She should probably go ask Emmony, it was a kind of important thing after all. First though, she intended on getting an answer to her question. Which she did soon enough. A mantid? That..didn't exactly ring any bells whatsoever. In truth her village was fairly secluded from other races, the more exotic rarely if ever passing through.


Of course, he then asked why she reacted the way she did. Her face pretty much immediately gained a light pink blush. "Oh..um..you just startled me is all. I'm sorry. I didn't notice you sitting there and well..you..kind of scared me." She explained nervously and as carefully as she could, not wanting to gain the wrath of the mantid. "And uh..you can call me Miziki I guess. I dunno what you'd call the rest.." She added.
 



  • "Just hired?! They left someone they just hired to handle sap ale?" I inquired, covering an eye with a hand. It was a rare, precious thing! Were the owners of this placed insane? I understood being understaffed, but barely serving any clients with the proper staff and then throwing someone new to handle such a delicacy, such a gem of this business... They had to be out of their minds! I sighed.


    "I see. Thank you for the honesty, Miziki." If it was that she was actually being honest and not just playing this absurd role. If this was scripted by someone going after me, I should remind myself to recommend that person to my other enemies... It would make my life a whole lot easier. "Could you please go and check how much I owe you, then?"


    I tried smiling again, the best a mantid could, and then gazed into my ale. It was hard to resist. With the confusion this was, I had come unprepared. I would call it a night, it served well as the first scouting. For now, I´d rejoice with the fruits of it: A sweet, delicious-looking bit of sap ale! I dived my mandibules right into it, pulling in the honey-like mixture (in fluency... The flavor was too superior for a sane mantid´s comparison). It filled me with energy, it was like the feeling of obeying... The one from back then.


    I pushed aside and got up from the bench, before paying a few coins and leaving, gazing over to the monk as I did, just in case he decided it was a smart move to try to follow me.


    @Mitchs98 @Decay


 
Emmony scrunched her nose up as she finished cleaning one of the bedrooms. Some people were just gross. Everything was scrubbed, fresh sheets were laid out, she even put a vase of flowers on the small table. She took a deep breath and let it out with a happy sigh, lips turned up in a grin. Today was going to be a very good day. The woman turned towards the door, knowing there was more to be done when suddenly everything disappeared.


There was a soft, cool breeze, whispering through the tall grass, but with no sun to warm it the breeze was almost cold. There were trees. Foreboding and larger than she could comprehend. Aside from the wind, everything was silent, as if no animals or insects dared to speak.


And then there were two men, two warriors in the center of everything who stood facing one another, large blades clasped in their hands. One was enormous, a looming dark shape who for a moment took up the entire vision. Her sight shook, the image of him blurring and focusing and blurring and focusing in dizzying circle before settling.


"Gareth," the giant said, almost spitting out the name, "I have dreamed of this moment for so long, wished and prayed for it even longer."


The giant's head tilted back and his eyes staring at the sky above. "Finally," he said, his deep rumbling voice almost quivering in an unnamed emotion, "Finally, I have you. No Joran getting in the way, no rank or position to hide behind, just you..."


His helm looking down at his immense blade, the tip of which was being caressed by the waving grass below as if already trying to smear the meadow in the blood of his foe, the giant finished, "And me." That sword was so dark, so much darker than she could fathom, and she felt fear just at the sight of it.


The other armored figure, much smaller in comparison to the giant, did not say a thing. Either he was simply concentrating more on the approaching fight or something else wasn't clear. But there he stood, greatsword extended out in front of him, his stance wide and ready to move at a moments notice.


The grass no longer whispered gently, it rustled and beat against itself, beat against the wind, an impatient audience for the fight. The difference between the two swords stood out firm in the vision, his slightly warm, sitting lightly in her mind, while the too dark one radiated cold, seeming to suck in the heat. "As it should be," he said at last, beginning to circle his large foe, obviously searching for an opening to exploit.


The dark giant rolled his shoulders, leaning his helm to the right and left as he cracked his neck, the immense blade held aloft in a single hand, "Do not disappoint me, Gareth, I have waited for this for so long..." He paused, "Do not die too quickly." That word repeated itself over and over and over and over and over. Die die die die die die until it burned it's way through her head.


He stepped forward, his large legs closing the distance, the too dark blade striking out like a viper towards the smaller warrior who raised his own great blade to parry the heavy blow aside.


The force of the heavy blow, so sharp in her mind, made Emmony stumble backwards, hitting the table and knocking over the vase. The vision seemed to dissipate and her mind slowly began to clear. Her chest heaved as she struggled to breathe, trapped still between those two men, that strange tension radiating through her body.


They started again, not striking her this time but slipping in and out, the blur of bodies, the ringing clash of metal on metal in her ears, the smell of sweat and blood. It slipped away slowly and Emmony finally found herself able to breathe again, though she didn't dare push away from the table. But it was done, she could move on and process it-


The man who'd been called Gareth side stepped a swing of that massive sword, parrying another to the side. Ducking yet another swing, he lifted his head and a stream of pure, hungry heat came out of his mouth. This gave him just enough room to back out and regain his form. It was as good as ever, but he was starting to falter. The fatigue and blood loss from a wound in his side seemed to be taking it's toll, and slowly but surely he was running out of tricks. "You've learned a lot since I last saw you," he commented on the fight. "Perhaps being an executioner is more then just being a paid killer."


So much death, why was there so much death, why the pain and the fighting and the anger.


With the space between them, the dark warrior slapped his scarred abyssal chestplate, the clasps of the large bear cloak coming undone as it fell with a heavy thump around his ankles, smoldering and being eaten the intense heat that had bathed him moments before.


"Preparation," The warrior said, his voice filled with malice. "Many of your... kin still work for me," he finished, spitting out the word 'kin' like a curse.


He raised that too dark blade once more, eyeing the bleeding warrior, "I studied them. Fought them. Tested their limits, but do you know what I found?" The deep voice rumbled, "Nothing. I was better then them as I am better then you."


The warrior let out a roar as he closed the distance and started to, once again, storm down blows at the wounded Gareth.


The insult to his kind seemed to revitalize Gareth, for as the giant barred down on him he charged as well. And with the scream of metal on metal, they continued the fight.


Emmony was kneeling on the floor. She'd fallen at some point her legs unable to hold her up, knees now bruised from the fall. She tried to shift her weight, to ease the pain, but her body refused to move. It tensed and shook as if the fight went on inside of her, as if it felt the intensity of those blows but without the pain.


Things kept flashing through her sight, intense, hot, hungry energy and screaming blades and pain, oh gods, the pain, it resonated through her almost as if it was her own. She pressed her hands hard to her eyes, dislodging the head scarf, as if that could make the visions go away.


There was fighting, so much fighting, blurred and fuzzy, full of that heat and the those screams and the unmistakable coppery smell of blood. It burned her nose, made her stomach roll. She needed it to stop, for her mind to clear up, for that blurred agony to go away, but it wouldn't.


The meadow was changed. There was the crackling of burning wood, a smell she'd always associated with cool, happy evenings, but now the smoke clogged her lungs and the smell seemed tinged with blood. The grass no longer whispered or rustled or beat against itself, it now laid cold and silent on the ground.


The too dark warrior watched the other from across the ruins, measuring his opponent before moving his great blade in front of him, finally placing two massive gauntlet covered hands on the hilt.


Stepping across the meadow, the giant brought the blade down in a diagonal cut, a feral growl exploding from within the dark helm at the exertion. Time slowed, the growl seeming to go on forever, the sword inching along, leaving behind it a cold trail.


Time sped back up as Gareth brought his greatsword to block the blow, a mistake he had avoided up until that point. It seemed to her that such a sword should be able to handle a problem like this, but the man in front of him was more then capable of breaking, shattering really, the greatsword. And shatter it did, sending shards of metal flying, not even slowing the strike down, instead adding it's own deadly flourish.


The strike carved through his once smooth armor, the shards of his greatsword cutting it's wielder's face. Now weaponless and severely, if not mortally, wounded, the loss was apparent. Falling to his knees, Gareth just barely managed to keep from falling over completely, one arm on the ground and the other feebly clutching at his wound.


The Dark Warrior stood over Gareth, blood dripping from the end of the too dark blade, and hissed, "I am stronger then you."


"I am the greater warrior, I am a superior leader, I am loyal... I am better then you. I was always better then you!" He continued his voice rising into a deep bellow that echoed in her head, "So why did she pick you!? I would never have left her side! Why!?" That too dark blade shaking in his grip.


The dark warrior's voice came out as a whisper this time, one that carried over the devastation left in their wake, "Why?" His voice choked with an emotion... not anger this time, now desperation and yearning, like a child begging for an answer they truly do not wish to hear, as he once more asked, "Why did she pick you over me?!" His voice cracking even as his shoulders heaved, his body trying to fight down.


Gareth straightened as the giant had it's break down. Kneeling with his back straight, eyes seeming to contain a searing heat of their own, he stared down the victor and gave a simple answer. "You would not leave her side, because you will not see what is truly happening." And after spitting some blood at him, Gareth closed his eyes and prepared for the final swing.


Time stopped for a moment, the vision freezing, the meadow filled with heat and trees that screamed as they burned. But the peace was interrupted, by a deep, heart filled scream that tore from the dark warrior's soul, a scream filled with anger... and pain as the too dark blade flashed towards the fallen warrior and sliced through, staining the ruined earth with the blood of an honorable warrior.


Everything stopped all at once. No visions, no heat, no screaming metal, no smoke or ash to burn her throat and lungs. No pain, no anger. Nothing blurred or spun, as everything had stopped.


And Emmony sobbed on the floor. She was curled into a tight ball, as if her body had tried to protect itself from the vision, and her whole being trembled and shook. The sobs were painfully torn from her chest, echoing around the room.


Never before had she seen a death.


She's seen many bad things. Sickness, injuries, grief, even torture. But never death. It felt like a part of her mind, the part that had been drawn unbidden into that torturous nightmare, had died along with that man. Her whole body, her whole mind, her whole being ached, spreading down into her very soul.


That last scream echoed through her again, the pain and anger it carried infecting her, and she knew she would carry that sound to her grave.


Welcome to Day 2
 
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