The Queen's Madness (Open)


Chuckled softly at his words. He did catch her little joke. In that moment she looked to see where his distraction was and it was to the young woman blindfolded. A curious aspect to her. She didn't look long enough at the woman. Her gaze drifted back to the man before her. A woman did come up whispering in his ear. She didn't show any reaction to that. Amunet reached over to tug a piece of bread between her digits. Rolling it around as he finally spoke again.


Shaking her head some as auburn tendrils tickled her cheek. Laughing a little at his small jests. "It isn't a problem. This place seems to receive good business distractions are expected. What kind of books are they about? Do they contain prettier pictures than this one?" A brow was raised once more at her last question. Really it wasn't the books that caught her attention. The dull ache still played a constant reminder she needed to feed. He proved to be a small distraction for her so she'd enjoy it as much as she can. Ignoring any feeling that may drive her mood elsewhere. Amunet still fiddled with the ball of bread. It felt fresh with the aroma it carried and the softness it yielded to be shaped as one desired.


She supposed she should show appreciation for the milk so she placed the ball on the plate and reached for the milk. Raising the glass once more and then quickly wiped her lips. In all the years of practice she never let a drop pass her lips. It was almost like how a pregnant woman couldn't stomach something. The acrid tastes the food offers causes her to gag. She learned that little notion years ago. For now she will enjoy the small company he offered. Those blue eyes never leaving him as she would study him in the same moment.



​



@ianbabyyy
 
Last edited by a moderator:
"We do tend to be fairly busy, but certainly not this early. Which thankfully leaves plenty of time to converse with interesting people." The way he said it, and the little smile on his face, not so subtly implied that she was one of those interesting people. He responded to her query about books, watching her curious eyes flit from his sister and back to him. "We have all manner of books," he said. "We seem to slowly collect them over the years. People forget them frequently, occasionally someone will donate one. I've always been a very big reader."


The man thought for a long moment, absently brushing a piece of hair from his face. "I believe we do have a book that contains many prettier pictures than that one. It is, in fact, entirely pictures." He smiled warmly, saying, "We helped a poor man out, maybe a year and a half ago, gave him a job and a place to stay for a while, and he gave us the book in thanks. It turns out he was a very gifted artist.


"It's also, strangely, my sister's favorite book. I remind her occasionally that she's blind and thus cannot see it, but she says the pictures feel nice." He pause, eyes tracing the spine of the book in her hands, before continuing. "A curious question. Is it that you dislike the taste of your milk, or are you simply unable to drink it?" His keen eyes flicked back up to meet hers, turning a slightly crooked smile on her.


@LadyArdent
 
Last edited by a moderator:

The Obsidian Executioner

proxy.php



​



Asavar stood watching the crowds before them, the hum of mindless chatter and bargaining filling the air as dozens of citizens milled in and out of the commercial, and social, center of the city. He wasn't quite sure where his recruits had run off to, Richard had spotted something in a nearby alley and chased after it. It was unlikely the recruit would run into anything too dangerous, but if he did... well, any candidate for the Queen's Guard should be able to handle a few footpads, if not, the footpads would save him time.


He wasn't sure where the girl had gone, nor was he particularly concerned. If she desired to watch another area then so be it. It would project their power further, although, from the ways people continually cast looks at him and turned to whisper to their neighbors, he was the main attraction of the day even if the wide berth of empty space around him implied a different story.


The increased murmuring around him caught his attention, and he half turned to see for himself what had gotten all the attention when his fell on Richard dragging a small dirty girl in rags behind him, if he had to wager, she was no more then eight or nine, but her dirty brown hair and soot smudges made it hard to tell.


"Commander," Richard said, his chest visibly puffed out in pride at his catch, "I caught this pickpocket trying to flee," he held up a small pouch of gold, "tried to ditch her catch in a crack in a nearby wall."


Asavar kept his eyes on the little urchin girl before him before kneeling down to take a closer look, it seemed he had been wrong, her hair wasn't brown, the roots were blond. She must not have bathed in months, perhaps, longer. The child was shaking, biting her bottom lip in fear as tears started to slip out of her eyes. He knew the punishment for stealing, he would have to take her hand.


He closed his eyes, taking solace in his mind before letting out a low breath that echoed against his helm creating a grow-like effect which, for once, wasn't intentional. "I'm sorry," a small voice said, well, tried to say. It came out between shakes of her small shoulders and there was a distinct whistle sound.


She let out a scream and tried to fight against Richard's hold on her when he reached out to her, his dark hand as large as her entire chest, but she could not struggle out of the recruit's grip, taking hold of her face and tilting it up to get a better look, he used his fingers to force back her lips and reveal her teeth... her missing teeth. A lot of them. Gently, he brushed her cheek to remove the soot already knowing what he would find, the bruised flesh that lay underneath. She had been hit. Her baby teeth had not fallen out, they had been knocked out with a powerful blow to the face.


Asavar let go of her face and sat back on his hunches, taking a moment to look at the nearby crowd suddenly aware of the silence that had fallen over the square, they were watching him waiting to see what would happen. None of them would move to help an urchin, not against the likes of him, he could see that in their eyes, resignation to what they were about to see. It was a good opportunity to display force and fear that would spread throughout the city, it would enrage at first, but then the depression would sit in, and they would know that the Queen's Justice made no distinction.


But with one look at the child's face, he knew he wouldn't be carrying out her justice. She reminded him of another unwanted urchin boy who was just as terrified as she is now. "Sir?" Richard asked, Asavar wasn't sure if it was concern or confusion that colored his voice.


"Tell me who you steal for," Asavar said, his deep voice causing the small child to flinch and stubbornly shake her head.


"If you do not tell me, I will remove your hand," Asavar said, his voice as deep and rough as ever, the small child threw her free hand behind her back as if that was enough to save her from him, "S-" the urchin began, "I know," Asavar said, cutting her off.


"If you tell me who did this to you," Asavar said pointing at her bruised jaw, "You may keep your hand," he paused, "And I will take you to the castle. You will work in the kitchens, but you will have a bed and food."


The child stared up at him, and he could almost read her thoughts. The disbelief, the suspicion and the faintest glimmer of hope and just like him, she clung to the faint glimmer of hope, of the promise of a better life.. of any life, "M-Mister Tanner," she said softly as if speaking would break the spell and send her back to this 'Mister Tanner'.


Asavar listened to the girl as she started rambling about where he was, what he did to her and other girls like her giving small nods here and there to show he was listening, "Sir..." Richard said, his voice filled with confusion, "She broke the law.."


"I am aware," Asavar said, his eyes not leaving the dirty tear stained face, "But she can give us a more appealing head to remove, one who controls most of the pickpockets in this area. You reward the small fish to catch the larger prey," he said as if that was the reason he was doing it, and it would be when he filed his report... "But you did break the law," Asavar said, his voice stern even as he reached down and lightly flicked her on the forehead.


The corner of his lips tilted as the small blue eyes widened, her hand flying to her forehead to the small spot he flicked, "Don't do it again," he said even as the small girl nodded, fresh tears slipping out. How she still had any left, he didn't know.


"Recruit, take her to the castle and bring her to one of the maids, see to it she gets food, a bath and fresh clothes. In that order. You did well today, I will handle this 'Tanner' with the other recruit. You may tell Joran that he was correct, at least, about one of the recruits," Asavar said throwing in a compliment to stall any request to accompany him.


Richard gave him a salute with his free arm tugging the girl behind him, but not before she turned to give him another look, "My name is Lily," she said, her eyes shinning with not a glimmer, but the full promise of hope, Asavar tilted his head slightly in her direction, "Until we meet again, Lady Lily."


He watched the odd pair leave, the potential Queen's Guard and the urchin girl, a noticeable skip in her step as she chatted with Richard, whatever she was... she bounced back fast. She would make a better Queen's Guard then half the recruits he had.


Asavar stood once more, returning to his original stance as he turned his head back towards the crowd, the second his eyes fell on them they went back to their business, the looks in their eyes telling him all he needed to know. They had not heard what had been said, they assumed she was going to the dungeon, which suited him fine. He did not need, nor wanted, their approval. Their fear suited him better.


His arms clasped behind his back as he awaited his female recruit, they had a 'Mr. Tanner' to flay alive.





@Vantruss
 
Last edited by a moderator:

She had grabbed another small bit of bread playing with it. Pay her no mind about the sister gazing. She just noticed his distraction. Amunet didn't know if they were related in any way. It wasn't her place to question. Just something about the lady tugged at her like a familiar feeling. For now she wouldn't pay any mind to her thoughts. These two people were talking as if old friends. It was a comforting thought.


She raised a hand to touch the book binding lazily. "Truthfully I do love to read. Pictures are a nice asset as well. I'm just glad you didn't take offense to my little jest." Amunet stopped playing with the little ball of bread as they spoke. Allan mentioned a prior worker giving them a book and his sister enjoying it. Amunet did seem interested in the book. "I'd love to see this book sometime soon. I do love different variations of art whether by known it unknown artists..." Figuring the ball was just about to crumble she placed it on the plate while listening to him. He asked about the milk which made her blush a tiniest bit. It was t enough to give the full affect. Biting her lower lip as she didn't know what to say. Many didn't take to her kind in any friendly way. Right now she wasn't out to hurt anyone or anything. She didn't want to be rude because she actually liked this place so far.


Feigning another sigh as she tapped the book when she looked at him with a defeated expression. "Actually the milk smells wonderful along with the bread. They are not part of my diet. I have no problem paying for it. I'm just not hungry for this sort of meal. I'm hungry for something you don't carry on the menu..." She hoped she said her words wisely without causing offense.
​



@ianbabyyy
 
He nodded, having expected something of the sort as her answer. "No worries," the man said with an comforting smile. "We have all sorts of people come through those doors. Our tavern is welcome to any person, regardless of their race or station in life. And we are discrete." The last was added almost as a reassurance, as if he wanted her to know that he'd never reveal anything she wished to keep hidden. His sharp eyes had caught the ever so slight pinkening of her cheeks, then trailed down to watch her teeth tug at her lips, and that crooked smile grew. "You have quite a lovely blush, by the way."


"Oh!" He exclaimed, eyes widening slightly. "I'm sorry, how rude of me to not introduce myself. My name is Allan. My sister Emmony and I are the owners of this tavern." The man bowed slightly before his bright green eyes met hers again. "Back to the prior topic, I would be more than willing to loan you that book, as long as you promise not to leave the tavern with it."


@LadyArdent


(Ack, sorry, I'm failing you with post length!)
 

Amunet tugged at her sleeve some to retrieve the proper payment in silver. She would hold out her hand in offering with the money. It wasn't meant in any offensive gesture at all to the man. Amunet chuckled at his words of flattery to her. That is how she took it as, nothing more. He finally introduced himself as the owner along with the girl whom she supposed was the blind one.


Nodding her head as she spoke up after Allan finished his words. "Here is payment for the meal. I'm curious if you say all races come through this place could you name a few that come to mind?" A small brow raised in question. Before forgetting herself she finally spoke her own name. "I'm Amunet, and I'm just traveling around the city for the moment resting here for a bit. I wouldn't walk away with your book. It was a gift given to you. That is precious enough in itself.." Amunet wondered if he would ever take the payment she offered. She wouldn't be completely insistent she just happened to be holding her hand up between them.


(I sense the wine is strong in this one @ianbabyyy)
​
 
Miziki Kurone

After a a somewhat long night of being on her feet most of the time Miziki was definitely glad to finally get to her room and get some rest. The entire day had been one big hassle. She wasn't good at her new job at all, often tripping and dropping the ale or forgetting how much it costed. She was sure Emmony would fire her and she'd be out on the streets again. Though, she wouldn't blame her in the least. She had a buisiness to run, and that included making a profit. Rather than sleeping late Miziki had woke up somewhat early, making her way to the roof to bask in the morning sun in her fox form. The warmth felt very nice and relaxing on her fur. She'd come down in a little bit, most likely, and see if Emmony was willing to keep her on despite how terrible she was at her job.
 
Aster removed her veil as she exited the palace. She sighed heavily, her legs aching from kneeling for so long, her arms sore from stitching for hours without end. She needed sleep desperately, and a meal wouldn't hurt either. She was heading back to her apartment nearby, having refused the higher servants quarters she was offered in the palace. She decided she would head towards a tavern for a bite before returning home, lacking the energy to cook herself much of anything. She was in the process of tucking away her veil into her sewing basket when she knocked into a tall, hard figure. She made a small "oof!" As she fell back into her backside, her silvery veil falling into the dust.


"Oh, dear," she murmured, leaning forward to retrieve it, before looking up to see what, or whom, exactly she'd run into. It felt like a wall, but she was supprised to find it was not a structure, but in fact a man.


(@Cosmo, perhaps?)
 
Last edited by a moderator:
Sitting at a desk in absolute silence writing on in his journal with a quil pen in which he dipped in ink as he sat there writing the equation to a potion. There was a spell book on the desk and ingredients scattered about. Everything was quiet just about until his ears caught a loud clatter of books possibly and a high pitched squeal. He flinched and placed a pale hand to his head fingers through his purple hair as he gave a little annoyed groan for a moment. He stood closing his spell book brushing off his dark kimono and started into the direction of the noise to find a certain little feline looking demon caught under the book case trying to use sign language but flailing terribly. He shook his head in disappointment and moved the book case back in place. "By the gods spicame....if you want something from a high shelf please do ask for it and don't climb on the furniture." He says ruffling the demon's brown hair then gestured to the mess. "I'm quite busy at the moment so be sure to clean up your mess and when you're done gather Lazarus and tell him well be taking a little shopping trip..." He says and heads upstairs to change into something rather decent for a simple outing. He grabs his bag and heads downstairs out his mansion door into the streets quietly.


@anyoneat all
 
Gareth looked briefly at the woman, saw the scarf wrapped around her head and over her eyes, a immediately identified her as Emmony. A relative of the owner, if not co-owner. He was surprised how well she could work considering she was blind. But the patrons kindly got their feet out of the way and threatened anyone who wouldn't until they did.


"Something warm and edible for a Silver Dragon." he said, taking one from his pouche and setting it on the table so it made a noise. "And some coffee if you have it. Tea will do if you have no coffee."
 
Quinn shivered as he came back out of the portal, his breath coming out white in the much colder air of the North. He never liked coming up here for missions, soldiers whispered more amongst each other as he passed through the royal camp, only giving brief nods here and there as he wandered up to the head of it. Admittedly, he loved the attention he received from the armies, he knew many men inside had an idea of it, though he kept sure to never confirm his exact work for the crown. Despite how obvious it may be.


His arm moved to the front flap of the large tent as he let himself inside, glancing around at the accommodations set out. Light, water, food, and warmth. That would be enough for him, at least for the short while he would be staying. He sighed as he finally leaned back in the table set on the center, reaching into his loose clothes and pulling out a small metal pipe. He ever casually did his work with it, quickly filling with a substance of opium and hemp seed, it would not be long before a match's flame would meet the substance, Quinn quickly inhaling the smoke produced from it, taking it all down in one long go.


As he exhaled the smoke, the flaps behind him were suddenly opened as he heard a deep, "Sir." Behind him, causing Quinn to cough and sputter briefly, something he almost never did while smoking his pipe. He set the metal down with a small bang, looking at the soldier behind him, before suddenly going silent at the sight. "We found him scouting, sir. He struggled, we had not a--" Quinn boiled with anger as the soldier droned on and on, looking at the dead soldier held in the man's arms. "Leave him here. And go." He let out with a heavy breath, watching the soldier place the man down before exiting the tent. Quinn finally sighed as he had privacy to himself once more, looking to the dead soldier before slowly wandering around the table, taking stand by him. He bent down to a knee as he looked over the man, his hands idly reaching down to his clothes as he whispered to him. "Well.. Can't let good tools go to waste, soldier boy. Hope you understand." He emitted a final deep sigh, grabbing onto the man's clothes and beginning to strip him. He needed to find information, and he needed it fast.
 
Last edited by a moderator:

The Obsidian Executioner

proxy.php


​



Asavar watched the crowds around him, if possible, they had given him an even wider birth after the events minutes ago with Lady Lily. It had come to the point that they would rather squish together then come with six feet of him, which, normally wouldn't bother him, but the throng of people was, no doubt, slowing down the recruit he was still waiting for.


His thoughts were disrupted by a soft 'clang', a small pressure against his lower back and a following thud. Taking a small step, Asavar turned at the waist looking behind him... then slowly his helm lowered all the way to the ground to a woman laying on the cobblestones after ramming into him. His eyes fell on legs and rose up, examining the odd, perhaps even foolish, creature that had managed to run into him, out of anyone, in the merchant square and had somehow missed.. well, him.


Beautiful. A simple observation, his dark eyes assessed as they climbed her body, if he were a poetic man, he would claim she was one of those 'great beauties' that come once every couple of generations. Asavar was surprised to see someone like her out there, most peasant girls that looked liked her would be wedded to a wealthy merchant or playing mistress to a balding noble.


His eyes slid next to her, to the veil that lay in the dirt and understanding slid through his mind. Like him, she hid her face, but did so for opposite reasons, and he did not blame her for concealing her face. Asavar would not be surprised if men pressed their favor on her, wanted or not.


Tilting his helm to the side, he knew he should be extending his hand to her, offering to help her up, and by the quieting of the world around him, he knew that, once again, he was the center of the attention, "It is common courtesy," Asavar said, his deep voice rumbling in his chest, "To apologize when you run into someone," he admonished before turning back to face the crowd, dismissing her.
 
"I'm terribly sorry, I'm awfully distracted." She murmured, noticing there was no outstretched hand before her, then standing on her own. Her face burned in shame, her violet eyes downcast. "I do hope I haven't dented your armor." She smiled sheepishly at this, blushing so hardily that the tips of her ears were even flushed a shade of pink; a sharp contrast to the buttermilk coloring of the rest of her. "M-might I ask your name?" She asked, pausing, "I'd like to know exactly who I've run into." She dusted herself off a bit, wringing her hands in nervousness.


@Cosmo
 
Last edited by a moderator:
He reached out towards her hand, but instead of taking the money he curled her fingers around it with a soft smile. "I cannot accept money for food that you could not eat and milk you could not drink." The man left his hand linger on hers a moment longer, before withdrawing to push the hair on his forehead back, mentally cursing the dratted thing again. He swore, one of these days he was going to get a hair cut. He was going to sit down and get it done. And he'd do it while Emmony wasn't around. For some reason she had it in her head that she could cut his hair for him.


"Amunet is a beautiful name, and it's lovely to meet you. I'm honored you would choose our tavern to rest in. I do hope you're enjoying your trek around the city." The man hooked his thumb into the leather belt around his slim waist, before his eyebrows lifted, a thought seeming to occur to him. "If you'll give me a moment, I'll go and retrieve that book for you." With a quick grin, he turned and quickly made his way upstairs, meandering up the stairs and into his room. He searched for a couple minutes, growing more aggravated the longer he looked, before finally coming to the conclusion that Emmony must have 'borrowed' it. With a sigh, he went to check her room and yep, there it was, sitting on her bed. Quickly, having been gone for longer than he wanted, he made his way down the stairs and present the book to Amunet with an apologetic smile. "Apologies for taking so long. My sister borrowed it again without my knowledge."


@LadyArdent


The moment he spoke, she froze. It didn't take more than a few words for her to recognize his voice. It just couldn't be. Not in her tavern. He couldn't be here of all places. Is that why she'd Seen him? Because he was in her tavern today? What was he doing here, who was he, who was that other man, why were they fighting. The questions ran around and around in circles in her mind, making her dizzy, as if the world was tilting under her feet and she was in danger of falling.


Her body was completely still however, unwavering, unmoving, not even breathing. Beneath her scarf her hazel eyes were wide, tears gathering in them as scenes from the vision played over and over, the image if that man's death seared into her mind with a brand. Her hands clenched, hard enough that her nails cut little half circles into her palms, the delicate bones creaking. And oh gods, that scream. It felt like it was tugging at her sanity, dripping across her brain like acid, eating away at it.


She couldn't bear this. The weight of knowing someone would die. No person should be able to See such things. No seer should. It surpassed anything and everything that had ever been thrust upon her. She'd Seen horrible things through the years, things that still gave her nightmares, left her waking up in the middle of the night, shaking. But none of it compared to what was going to happen to this man.


She whispered, only just loud enough to be heard, "You're going to die."


@Beowulf
 

Felt the warmth from his hand made her want to feel that inside of her. The very thing to run in her veins. Biting her lower lip a little as she pulled her hand away some. Gladly he hadn't noticed her temperature is rather cold. It was the quickest of touches. Quickly she tucked away the coins as he continued to speak. He liked her name. Made her smile a little. He finished speaking and said he would go retrieve the book.


When he slipped away she heard the girl speaking. She wasn't exactly sure where she was at in this exact moment. It just pushed at her. Amunet sat straight up as she grabbed the cushion beneath her without ripping the fabric. Hard as she could she didn't like crying emotions, or anything similar to them. Amunet wasn't entirely weak at this point. Mentally she was a little tired, and she still had that ache which never went away. She held no look on her face as she heard the whisper too. Amongst all the sounds in this place she focused on that one alone.


Amunet truly didn't know what it meant or what those words held to the man she spoke them too. All she knows is that she didn't like the feeling that Emmony was giving off. Just in time she heard the familiar steps from Allan so she slouched a little attempting a pose at something of comfort releasing the cushion which was now ripped in some places. Amunet furrowed her brows as she reached for the book from Allan's hands. A slightly troubled look fell across her face as she looked up at him. "If you have the time could we go somewhere just a little quieter so you can show me some of the pieces in this book? You did mention they were all pictures, but do they carry any type of descriptions?" Amunet had hoped this little ruse would sway Allan to hopefully have them go outside. The woman was just really tensed at the moment. She did her best to appear as human as possible. Hopefully he wouldn't notice that the edge of the chair cushion was ripped so that fluff now stuck out in odd ways. She just really didn't want to be in the same building as his sister momentarily.
​



@ianbabyyy
 
Last edited by a moderator:
Fiolan walked down the street with his boots on the pavement and he stopped for a second exhaling deeply as he became a burst of feathers only for a swarm of moths to appear in the shopping district gathering together reforming him. He brushed a hand under his so very long indigo purple hair from his mismatch colored eyes moving his gaze up with a rather still expression on his pale face. He continued to walk once more turning a corner and stopped at a shop waving to A women who simply blushed. "Greetings madam, I'm here to pick up the herbs I ordered. She nodded."ah.yes.yes. here you go fiolan,are you doing well?" She asked and placed A bag on the counter and he purposely placed a bit more than enough money on the counter. "I'm doing rather fine, also I know it's a bit extra but please take it to help your shop as of a sort of thank you for helping me." He says and gives a smile before leaving with a deep exhale heading to the next place.
 
He did in fact notice that the edge of the chair cushion was ripped. Just as he noticed the tension in her body, despite her attempt to look at ease. He fought to keep the frown off his face, that small smile he usually wore becoming a little strained as he wondered what could have happened during the time he was gone that would have affected her so much. Bright green eyes roved the tavern, searching for anything of the sort. They stopped briefly on Emmony, who was talking to someone and seemed extraordinarily tense. If she'd had as bad of a vision as he thought though, then her current stance would be appropriate. The thought firmly in his mind that he would draw her away later to check on her, Allan turned back to the woman.


She taken the book, and he barely caught the way her brow furrowed. Her tension hadn't eased, and at her request he held his hand out to her. "We aren't busy at all at the moment, so I could certainly escort you somewhere quieter for a bit. And yes, each picture has a small description at the bottom. Some of them are quite interesting, detailing where he obtained the ideas from, what inspired him. I believe he said that our tavern inspired one of them as well."


@LadyArdent
 
Gareth sat patiently in his seat, arms clasped together on the table, as Emmony stood silently nearby. Maybe she hadn't heard him set the coin down, and she was waiting to hear it so she could grab it. Smart business move, get the money before you do anything. He had picked up the coin and was going to grab her arm so he could plant it in her hand when she spoke.


"You're going to die."


He paused, hand in the air, at that. Lowering his hand back to the table, he replies "Of course I'm going to die. Everyone does. But I don't want to die before breakfast. So, if you would." Setting the coin down again, this time closer to her, he once more resumes his wait for his food. He didn't know why she said that, and he didn't really want to. If she was planning on killing him it wouldn't have been smart to tell him so, so it wasn't that. It wasn't much of a conversation starter either. But then why would she say he'd die?
 

Amunet rose up with the book in her other hand. Reaching for Allan's arm loosely. She noticed her height was just a couple inches from him. He was a smaller man yet she didn't mind. Amunet was still able to look at him decently. She didn't have to crane her neck down to see him they were able to look at high level. She was a little tense. Looking back at the chair momentarily she as she spoke, "Oh dear I'll pay for that..."


Amunet would follow him where ever he decided to take her. Just as long as she wasn't in the same vicinity as those emotions. Quickly she did turn her attention back to his earlier words. "I look forward to looking at them when we aren't too distracted. Thank you for being a willing a fellow lover of art. I'd probably be able to understand them, but to learn about the person who created these pictures gives it more depth.." A simple smile offered after her words.


She waited for him to take the lead. Her touch would be that of ice... but she was able too when looking at him he'd feel this contact briefly as she would have him believe she was as warm as he was. If it wouldn't work he would truly feel that cold touch. Would he complain? One wouldn't know until he spoke up about it.
​



@ianbabyyy
 
Emmony took a couple of deep breaths, trying to calm herself. That probably wasn't the best way of going about telling him, but she was still shaken. Quite literally actually. Her whole body was trembling, nails still biting, near to drawing blood, though the pain went unnoticed. His words shocked her out of her reverie, body jerking, nearly taking a step back she was so startled. They swirled around in her head for a long moment before settling, allowing her to understand them.


"Is your name Gareth?" She asked, keeping her voice at that same soft tone, just loud enough for him and no one else to hear.. It was a silly question. She knew it would be him. Down straight to her bones, she knew this was the Gareth form her vision. She was never wrong when it came to the people she See's. Her voice low and trembling so much it was hard to understand, she continued, "A man is going to kill you. A very large man, with a sword darker than I can fathom."


Her hands came up to rub her eyes, as if she could scrub away the images in her mind. The black scarf around her eyes came undone under her hands, floating unnoticed to the floor. "I Saw it, just this morning. He speaks your name, but you refer to him only as an executioner. You set the trees around you ablaze with fire that you breathe." The woman's voice trembles more, eyes beginning to tear up once again. "There's so much fighting and blood and heat and pain." There's a long pause, as she attempts to collect herself, forcing the tears to stop, forcing her voice to firm, forcing her hands to fall back to her sides. Those eyes that See but don't see fix on Gareth, so odd with their lack of pupils.


"And you fight over a woman."


@Beowulf
 
Siara hummed as she gave the last of her bread to the injured child she had helped. Spending a day within the outskirts of Draede, Siara had extended her medical services to the peasants and poor outside of Lathien's capital city. While she ran into some trouble with the guards, resulting in a bruise on the side and her chin, she could ultimately rely on those she helped to return the favor to the City Watch. Normally, she didn't condone such violent acts, but she couldn't help but be thankful when the villagers drove the City Watch back with their torches and yelling. It was truly a sight to behold, especially since it was for her.


The injured child bowed respectfully and smiled, turning to sprint to his worried mother with a bulge of bread pushing at his cheeks. Siara smiled brightly at this before continuing on her way through Draede's streets, moving to return to the Queen's Madness in hopes of returning to Allan's presence. On her way, she heard commotion. Namely, the Executioner was strutting about. There was a beautiful maiden next to him, whom made Siara feel self-conscious, regarding her appearance. However, she couldn't deny that the balance between the ugly giant and the fair maiden was rather... attractive, in a sense. If someone had painted the scene, she was sure it would grow rather popular, two opposites standing alongside one another.


Siara smirked at this and would turn to reinitiate her journey. Climbing up a steep slope of a cobblestone road, she eventually reached the higher land that the majority of the capital rested on, separating it from the lowest slums and the outskirts that endlessly sprawled around the guarded entrances of the once happier city. She'd take in the sight that the higher elevation granted her before turning and proceeding down towards the now growing sight that was the Queen's Madness.
 
Yara murmured to herself as she gazed over at Emmony talking to the man she had hired, Gareth. Personally, she found even more interest in Emmony. What great powers she could grant for good in service of Nostros. It was a waste, truly, that she spent so much time out of the Web Priesthood. Smirking, Yara decided to strut over towards the table. The two seemed to be tense, the air dense with some sort of drama, and it naturally drew the meddling Northerner over.


"What's goin' on? You ready t' carry my baggage, yet?", the Northerner asked Gareth, eyeing Emmony with a curious gaze as she tilted her head respectfully. "Yer a seer. Not t' many of ye in the North," she'd murmur, curiously leaning towards the tavern-keeper. The red-head was dangerously close to her, gazing into her empty eyes with a gleaming look of true wonder. "Weird, too. Have you met any boys who like yer eyes?", she'd joke with a smile, still close to Emmony's face as the two abyssal pits drew her stare inwards.


@ianbabyyy


@Beowulf
 
Last edited by a moderator:
Gareth stared at her, an eyebrow raised, waiting for her to leave and come back with his breakfast. Then she asked if he was named Gareth, and before he could say yes or no she went on. A large man with a dark sword was going to kill him. Her hands went up to rub her eyes, and her scarf, the one he had not once seen her without the short while he was here, fell off revealing brown eyes with no pupils. So that was why she said that, she was a Seer. Why he hadn't come to that conclusion sooner eluded him, but he didn't have much time to wonder about it as she went on. He referred to him as 'executioner'. She knew about his fire breath, and saw he had burned trees with it, but those were rather minor details at that point.


"Asavar." he said as she stood silently, thinking she was done speaking. But he was wrong, and she finished reciting her vision by saying him and Asavar were fighting over a women. He sat there in silence, processing that last little tid bit. Him and Asavar would be fighting over a woman. "I'm sorry, but you got the wrong person. There isn't a woman him and I would be fighting over. Now, where's that breakfast I ordered?" He'd think about it in more detail once he got the time, but he would not start this day on an empty stomach.
 

The Obsidian Executioner

proxy.php



​




Asavar kept his back to her, half-listening to her apology, he was waiting for the soft claps of footsteps that would tell him she was on her way having overcome her surprise, embarrassment and fear. He was certain that this little episode of her life would be over soon... but he was wrong which was happening far too often lately to be of comfort.


He turned back around, to face the small woman and blinked. Once. Twice. Three times. She had asked his name. That hadn't happened since he was a child. People knew who he was, it was not a statement of vanity, it was simply truth. If they did not know his name, they knew his title. He was immensely large, covered in black armor and his... profession as Executioner meant people saw him beheading others at a regular basis. It was safe to assume there was no one on the planet who looked like him.


The blush that colored her face was just as confusing as the rest, it meant that she may not have asked his name out of reflex, habits born from courtesy.


"Asavar Del'Vorra, Commander of the Queen's Guard," he said inclining his head slightly forward.


Asavar paused knowing courtesy demanded he request her name, but he wasn't sure if he should, but he gave in, "And you are?"


She bit her bottom lip, cursing her stupidity, "Lady Aster Gale, her majesty the Queen's personal seamstress." she sighed, "I'm very sorry, I should know you from the palace, but I haven't encountered you before." She nervously coiled a dark curl around her finger, lashes fluttering as she redirected her gaze up to him, "It is a pleasure to meet you Sir." Her amethyst eyes seemed to bore into his soul; not intrusively, but in a seductive and gentle manor, prodding delicately at barriers made of tissue.


Asavar wasn't quite sure what, exactly, was going on. He paused to take a moment to cast his eyes around the square looking for an explanation, perhaps a pair of assassins had sent her to distract him, but he found nothing. He watched her finger curl through her dark locks, it took a few moments for what she said to register in his mind, "I see," he answered as he did. If she was a seamstress, it would make sense for her to not have seen him. He rarely visited those quarters and they tended to be busy in their small rooms applying their craft.


His confusion quickly gave way to shock at her fluttering eyes that seemed to be poking and prodding, promising something he wasn't quite sure he was prepared for. He knew that look, Asavar had seen enough young maids give looks akin to that, although they were not nearly as beautiful, to handsome men training in the yard. The look made him feel like a small child playing a game with rules he did not, nor could not, understand...


Asavar's dark brows lowed, no, it wasn't right. Someone like her did not look at someone like him. He knew that from experience, from decades of yearning, of desperate pleas for the one he watched to look at him for but a moment... It simply wasn't the way the world worked. His spine straightened and his jaw lifted, this was either a clever trap or a cruel jest being played at his expense by very brave, and foolish, people. There was no other logical explanation, this was not some story or child's dream, this was reality, and in reality, women like her did not spend time with beast like him. Yes, he could already imagine her lackey's mocking him from behind a corner, taking peeks out when they believed him to be occupied by her beauty.


"You have apologized and I have accepted, Lady Gale," Asavar said his deep voice rumbling from deep within his chest, "It was lovely to make your acquaintance but I am on duty."


She nodded, none the wiser to his thoughts on her behavior. "Very well then. I hope I see you again, Sir, perhaps less awkwardly on my part though, next time." She curtseyed, stood, and offered him a final glance and smile before she went on her way. The conversation had distracted her from her hunger for the time being, but now she was fit to keel over from the hunger pains. What had it been, two...three days since a decent meal? The queen was preparing a new gown that had cost Aster time, blood (from the many many finger jabbings), and tears (from stress, mainly, but also hunger pains). She'd been worse off, though, and a little supper would be sure to lighten her spirits. She pursed her lips as she thought back to the Knight, and hoped dearly she hadn't offended him with her slight flirtation.


Asavar watched her depart before turning his attention back to the others, his mind still going over the events that had happened just moments before... between the young urchin and the seamstress, it seemed the 'routine' patrol had been anything but routine.
 
Last edited by a moderator:
Fiolan had just about finished his errands looking at a small list only to stop for a moment moving his eyes to look down at the female with a seemingly observant gaze. His eyes two different colors the right a dark pink and the left a burning gold. He exhaled as a black moth came over landing on his shoulder. He pulls a small blue flower from his coat and leans over holding it out. It looked delicate but also it was a sort of charm flower known for protection and luck. The necromancer undertaker didn't know why but he wanted to give it to her. It was probably wasn't noticeably he was the undertaker right away but then again it would be if it was realized he was the only necromancer living around the area. Another moth finds itself sit on his shoulder as well. He rises brushing his very long hair from his face. "Do be safe I'd rather not have your corpse in one of the caskets...."He says softly and turns to continue walking. It's noticeably black moths and butterflies are attracted to him.


@SirFlabberghaspy
 
You must log in or register to reply here.

Users who are viewing this thread

Total: 4 (members: 0, guests: 4)
Back
Top