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Fantasy To topple a empire: RP page

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NeonFlow

The one who made Aerth
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Fiefallah, its not the grandest city but it has a diverse population and strong commerce thanks to being coastal. Be it from the sea or neighbouring farm villages Fiefallah was a trade hub of resources. It was a year ago when the royal Prince Bartoloe Draghart arrived in all his glory and power. Like a monster from legends and tall tales, a blood red dragon breathing fire decimated any chance of naval resistance before becoming a man ontop the tallest structure to breathe flames in the air and fire down into the streets. As the people flee death his voice bellows to all in the city.
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"i claim this city by my right as Prince Draghart, let any who oppose fight me now! To survive you must submit to me and gain my protection! The city shall burn til then"
Few attempt to kill him and they burn to ash for their effort. It wasn't long before Fiefallah surrendered but the prince continued to incinerate any to approach. Thankfully someone with telepathy was able to contact the mad prince to cease the hellfire.

Since then Fiefallah flies the Draghart flag and pays taxes to Baanwin. The locals hate and fear the prince, rebellion brews even without involvement from the Shadows. One hotspot close to the water is a tavern known as Salty Horro. The Horro was full of men who used to be sailors pissed off at the absurd amount of money Prince Bartoloe is constantly stealing from the city under the thin guise of "taxes." Crime happens everywhere but in Fiefallah it was rising, when the prince arrived he burned most of the ships in the port and whole chunks of the city. Lives lost and ruined so quickly. While the damage to the city was repaired many people lost their livelihood. With Bartoloe replacing the authorities with his soldiers from Baanwin, what used to be town guards are now thugs in a foriegn uniform. Needless to say violence is more apparent...

Regardless the chapter sent word hoping to reach any members of shadowhand for assistantance but most importantly stressing the need for some heavy hitters.
Which is why Yahno Naza sits in the cellar of Salty Horro drinking rum. The Fiefallah chapter wasn't what he expected... It wasn't exactly flush with active members but the information aswell as resources they gather had given Yahno a different assumption.
"i can't believe it's just thirteen of you."
Yahno shook his head with a chuckle at Yardal Hones, leader of the Fiefallah chapter but basically a scout like the other twelve. "What with being so far from Baanwin we really didn't need the numbers. Though Barto arriving here must have others on notice."
"Yea they all sat up. Though surprisingly Ohnee Conurbation is still independent of Draghart, rumours say Baanwin sends a army for it. A army devoid of royals. It gives Ohnee a fighting chance but it makes me wonder why a Draghart took here instead of there. Must mean the Draghart family want or fear something there, otherwise just fly above breathing magic yea?"

Yardal nodded. "Ohnee is much larger then this little city, Fiefallah used to pay them taxes for protection. All the good that's done... to your point though maybe they plan to use this city as a starting point."
"No... they have the strength to take all of Ohnee at any moment with three or four Dragharts flying in. Them sending a army so far from home instead of the normal tactics they use is off-putting."
Yahno replied but it was in that moment Yardal helped him realise something. "Yea... though to be honest, I've never heard of two let alone four Dragharts arriving anywhere together. Maybe they have some sort of code or rule that is against the royal family working together?"
Yahno finished his bottle lost in thought. Having been with the guild for more than a decade he had plenty of memories to comb through.
"You might be right there... even after we took back Kanyo no reinforcements came."
"Wasn't Kanyo taken by another Princess two years ago?"
"...? I feel someone would have told me if it was..."
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You are somewhere in Fiefallah, maybe you are apart of this chapter. Maybe you got sent from Ohnee or from one of the other chapters in the lands of Wakum. Point is you are here in this city being driven into the shit with a Draghart prince at the reins. You know there is a chapter somewhere in the city but the only clues found or heard lead you to the Salty Horro.

In a tavern with about thirty or so people spending what little they have to get drunk and complain. The bartender would probably be the most notable thing a newcomer to the Horro would see. Left eye blue and right eye green, a scar across his left eye but it seems as if he can see fine. Looking like a handsome pirate cleaned up nicely to open a restaurant... the gentleman attire doesn't suit such a rough house drinking establishment.
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phibglib phibglib EtherealShadows EtherealShadows Sonora Sonora
Introduce your character into the scene how they like. It's probably easier to be from a made up town rather then Fiefallah or Ohnee but if you want to im happy to pass along info they should know. I'll voice and act as most npcs and enemies, I'm open to others taking these roles later on but for now I'm happy for you to control minor characters to help things along. Buying something from a merchant, small talk with someone... just keep it reasonable, don't have them intimidate the guards and seduce half the marketplace for the best prices etc
 
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At one table a young man sat, his pointy ears revealed that he was in fact a Half-Elf. This twenty-seven year old man, Sylvius Elastine a man of the guild, had just arrived inside of the Salty Horro. Unlike the the majority he was not thirsty, he was not here to get drunk or complain, he was there to search people to trade knowledge with. Being quite the familiar with some chapters of Fiefallah even though he was mostly familiar with the places Ohnee where he grew up, but he had now been settled in in the Fiefallah for quite a few years.

At the first sight he recognized the bartender, it was Royce Brightwood, he was the man working there almost everytime he entered the tavern. Sylvius made a few calculations counting the numbers of coins he had in hand. Not quite anything else than the amount you would mostly save for something important. His plan was to use some in trade but only if it was worth it. For a moment, his amber eyes scanned the room, the thing that catched his eye was an old man carrying a backpack and a bunch of small bags, he had to be a trader. Out of the young half-elf's curiosity he gently got up and reached the man that seemed like he may have been a mercenary.

"Excuse me, do you have any maps? It would be the most simple but still useful trade!" Sylvius asked the old backpacker. The man gladly handed over an average drawn map of Fiefallah, as Sylvius offered a few emeralds of his. "Thanks, but do you also have a-" The halfling was about to ask, but the old man had already disappeard between the batch of people around. He sighed, hopefully he'd find someone anytime soon who's willing to help him out a little, if any had some knowledge of how to hunt down a Draghart. He recently had joined the guild, so he was very unexperienced, never had he seen a Draghart with his own eyes. Patiently, he leaned down a chair, waiting in case any guild members and alike would enter the tavern.

"new to the guild right? Head down to the cellar and talk to the halfcast" The words didn't seem to come from the outside circumstances but instead from within. Sylvius was half confused, he did not make this up in his mind. He assumed it may have been some kind of telepathic interaction. Not sure what it was, he lightly suspect the barkeeper to have something to do with it. Regardless of what it was, he decided to do as the voice said and head down the direction of the cellar.
 
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The door to the Salty Horro creaked open, the noise of the bustling tavern dying down just for a moment as the patrons turned to see who had just entered. In walked Sylqarin Thaeldrova, her brown hair loosely tied back and her cloak billowing behind her. As she made her way through the tavern, the murmur of conversations resumed, the patrons returning to their drinks and personal gripes.

Her attention was first drawn to the bartender, Royce Brightwood. She had heard of him, knew of his peculiar eyes, one blue, one green, but this was her first time seeing him. He looked every bit the experienced barkeep and more, his scarred visage carrying stories untold. It was clear he was more than met the eye.

As Sylqarin took a seat at the bar, she offered the bartender a nod. "Water," she requested, her voice calm and measured. Royce gave a slight smirk, pouring a glass of water and placing it in front of her.

Sylqarin scanned the tavern as she sipped on her water. She was in no hurry. The rebellion was not something one could rush, even with the prince's oppressive rule growing heavier by the day. Every move had to be calculated, every action considered. It was a game of chess with the highest stakes.

Her eyes settled on a familiar figure, a young half-elf like her, moving towards the cellar. Sylvius Elastine, a recent addition to the guild, from Ohnee. She had not interacted much with him, but she knew that he was dedicated to the cause. His unexperienced demeanor hinted at his newness to the resistance.

A sudden whisper tickled her mind, a telepathic message, faint but clear. She glanced around the tavern, trying to find the source. When her eyes landed on Royce again, she found him observing her, a knowing look in his eyes. The message was clear – there was more happening in the Salty Horro than met the eye.

With a final sip of her water, she slid off her barstool, adjusting her satchel and brushing her cloak back into place. She followed Sylvius, heading towards the cellar. As she descended into the underground, she couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation. The Salty Horro was more than a simple tavern; it was a nexus of information, a meeting point for rebels, and potentially, the beginning of a much larger operation. She was prepared to do what was necessary to ensure the rebellion's success.
 
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The conversation Yardal was having with Yahno stopped as they heard the bartender talk without using his voice, "more half elves coming, you'd think some actual elves would be somewhere with how many of you lot are about"
Yahno shrugged not having a answer or retort. "I don't know these two, you wanna talk?" "yea were family, in a way" the dark elf smiles standing up and placing his empty bottle on the table before turning towards the stairs
"suppose you two are looking for a quiet place to know each other better, or both of you came here looking for the same job?"

Yahno smiles at the two coming down and could guess at them being strangers to each other. "I had a bet with Yonny here that no elves beside me would show, I'm guessing I owe two gold coins to the esteemed captain here. Tell me kin, what's your names and how do hope to help us here at the Salty Horro?"
The dark elf motions for the two to come take a seat by the table. Yardal's large frame stood in the corner, arms crossed with a smirk on his face.
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Post order for now will be 1 2 than you. Meaning let two others post after you do. This may change depending on player count.

I also don't want to push the main plot until everyone is in the same place. Sonora Sonora EtherealShadows EtherealShadows phibglib phibglib
 
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A woman opened the door of the tavern with a huff. Miva had arrived early in the morning after her chapter received word from the Fiefallah chapter. She did not volunteer to come as others had, instead she was chosen by the chapters leader. While unsure of the reason behind this decision Miva was never one to disrespect orders. So here she is. Looking around Miva was unimpressed as she tossed her blonde, almost white, hair behind her shoulder.

A tavern. She was lead to a tavern. It took her a couple hours of asking locals till she was lead here. Based on the hushed tones the locals used when offering their, what they believed to be, juicy gossip on the guild Miva thought it would be a little more grand.

After, looking around Miva's eyes landed on the bar, a smile tugging at her lips. She walked up and raised her hand to signal the bartender. He was an interesting fella to look at. His eyes caused Miva to raise an eyebrow in interest but she quickly dismissed her intrusive thoughts before ordering. " A pint of mead, if you would." She followed her request by placing some coins on the counter. The bar tender placed a glass in front of her filled to the top, the liquid spilling slightly over the sides. Grabbing the glass Miva gave a nod to the bartender who gave a nod back. However his eyes caught hers again as they slid from her face down to where she assumed the cellar of the tavern might be.

Grabbing her cup Miva turned herself around to gain a better look. Her eyes landing on two individuals who started making their way down. Scanning the room, the other patrons of the tavern did not seem to notice the ones slipping into the cellar which piqued Miva's interest. They did not to be workers, Miva thought. Pushing herself off of where she leaned on the bar Miva made her way to the cellar. Weaving in-between the patrons, careful enough to not spill her drink.

By the time she was at the edge of the cellar she a man's voice rose up to meet her ears. She slowly walked down to find three half-elves in her line of sight. The slight raise in her brow her only sign of being confused until it lowered and a playful smirk appeared on her lips. "Have I stumbled onto a lover's lair?" Her voice intertwined with a soft chuckle. "Oh, or is this half-elf anonymous?". Miva could not help but feeling slightly out numbered. Wondering if her leader misread the call for help . Leaning on one of the posts that came down from the ceiling Miva sipped her drink as she looked at the individuals in front of her, unsure if she found the right place.




NeonFlow NeonFlow EtherealShadows EtherealShadows phibglib phibglib apologies for my late response. I just got off of work!
 
The stench of the cellar was a unique blend of aged ale, damp wood, and something that reminded Sylqarin of spent magic. The air was noticeably cooler than the tavern above, carrying the hushed whispers of the underground.

It was dimly lit with flickering torches strategically placed, casting long, dancing shadows across the room. Sylqarin took a moment to survey her surroundings, taking in the different patrons. Her attention was drawn to the corner of the room, where a dark elf and a hulking figure - presumably Yardal - sat conversing in hushed tones. Not far from them, a human woman leaned against a pillar, sipping her drink with an amused smirk playing on her lips.

Sylqarin gave her a quick, acknowledging nod before turning her attention back to the dark elf who had just addressed her. The tension in the room seemed to lighten at his jest. A subtle undercurrent of respect was palpable, even amidst the easy-going banter.

She moved gracefully through the room, navigating between tables and barrels, to join the duo. Her cloak swished lightly against the worn-out stone floor as she pulled out a wooden stool and took a seat, placing her satchel carefully at her feet.

Sylqarin's fingers traced the rough grain of the table as she gathered her thoughts, her eyes scanning the faces of those present. "Sylqarin Thaeldrova," she finally introduced herself, the calm steadiness of her voice cutting through the cellar's hushed whispers. "As for how I can help, well, I suppose that depends on what you need help with."

She paused, the flickering light from the torches casting dancing shadows on her face, emphasizing her high cheekbones and the determined glint in her eyes. "If it's about challenging the Dragon King's tyranny, then count me in. I've been at odds with his reign since I was old enough to understand what freedom meant. I've trained, I've fought, and I've survived. I'll contribute in any way I can to see the end of his rule."

Her words echoed softly, the silence stretching out as Sylqarin leaned back in her seat, the resolve etched into her features testifying to her sincerity. The undercurrent of tension slowly seeped back into the room, but it was different this time - it wasn't strained or uncomfortable. It was the quiet anticipation, the charged calm before the storm.
 
Sylvius stepped carefully down the old staircases. The lights were pretty dim down there, being lit by small branches of torches. He wasn't that attentive, so the footsteps from behind suprised him. It was Sylqarin Thaeldrova, he only recognized that she was a part of the guild, though he hadn't really interact with her that much, considering how he recently had discovered the death of his parents, he had only just volunteered to join them to avenge his parents on the Dragharts. Sylvius smiled softly to the other half-elf, then turned his attention to the cellar ahead of him.

As he reached into the celler, he encountered even more half elves. Behind him, a human woman entered the cellar, asking if this meeting was a half-elf anonymous. "How would I know? I only just came here to learn more of this guild..." He replied, somewhat clueless about what the woman was talking about. "So... I'm new here and I'd like some guidance on how to help this guild." The halfling stated, directing at the man that seemed quite similar to a dark elf. "I mean, I could definitely be up for some practice mission..."
 
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Miva sighed at the half-elves responses, she took note that she was not around the joking type. Taking another sip of her drink before pushing of the pillar as she moved towards the group. Her eyes moving over to the individual asking the questions. His questions did not seem to be entirely directed to her, she assumed it was due to her being the last to walk down the steps. Placing her glass down on a nearby barrel she dusted of her hands on the side of her thighs. Listening to the others answer the man's questions bit the inside of her cheek upon hearing the woman speaking of challenging the king. This woman, Sylqarin as she introduced herself, was definitely not shy to speak on her views of the king. While Miva was sure she was in the correct place she was hesitant to speak, not knowing who she was really accompanied by. When leaving to assist this guild there was not much guidance given on who she would encounter, just that help was needed.

Scanning the faces of those around her she listed to the other half-elf speak of the guild. Based on these two half-elves she was more than sure she had found the correct place. Waiting for him to finish speaking before she offered her voice to the group. "My group received word that assistance was needed. I am simply who they sent to answer the call." She pursed her lips, breathing in though her nose before continuing. "The name is Miva Sarun." As she answered Miva gave a slight bow of her head when introducing herself. She could not lie to herself that when standing in this cellar she grew nervous. There were less of them than fingers on her hand...How were they supposed to overthrow a Draghart? Shaking her head slightly, as if to shake the thought out of her head, she folded her hands behind her back she straightened up. She made eye contact with each person in the room. Miva always hated introductions and small talk. It made her skin crawl. She hoped that she said enough to answer the man's questions.

Her eyes drifting over to her drink, the condensation running down the sides. With the way the day had gone this would definitely not be her last Miva noted. Crossing her arms Miva leaned on the barrel that held her drink. Blowing a strand of hair away from her face as she waited for other to speak.
 
Yahno nodded and smiled but he didn't recognise any of the names given in this brief moment, and probably wouldn't be able to spell or remember them. Though the situation as grim as it was, Fiefallah's chapter was lucky four people arrived within a week. Though with the information Royce has managed to turn up... Yardal only had one plan worth pursuing. "New guy, Sylvius right?" he announced loud enough for Yahno to turn around.
"Yahno here has a task for you" Yardal gave the dark elf a look which seemed to convey something "i guess I do, come with me Syl."
Yahno led the newcomer back up the stairs and through the tavern outside onto the street before speaking again.

"you know where Ohnee is right? Well in the farmlands before the city wall is a village called Herdfer, your gonna take this message to the village chief of Herdfer and he is gonna take care of things. He may have some tasks for you to do but hopefully you'll be bringing back much needed supplies for the guild. Don't lose this letter, don't open it either. You won't understand what it says and if you deliver a open letter you could be killed. Im counting on you, as fast as you can manage be it running on foot or stealing a horse, deliver that message to Herdfer's chief."
Placing a envelope in the man's hands and pushing him in the direction of Ohnee. "like right this moment, run run run" Yahno says motioning with his hands 'moving quickly.'
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EtherealShadows EtherealShadows will post again when able, he's now on off-screen shit
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Yardal waited til the elf men had left before speaking. "Nice to meet you two, my name is Captain Yonny. Allow me to welcome you Miva, Sylqarin, to the Salty Horro. We are severely understaffed and the only plan i have worth speaking outloud puts you two in immediate danger. But I won't lie, I think the best chance comes with you two. Best foot forward so to speak... of course if you wish to flee for your lives now is the chance. Cause each step after this moment could very well lead to your fiery death. I'd hate to label such fine ladies as traitors or cowards to a righteous cause"
phibglib phibglib Sonora Sonora
 
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Sylqarin listened intently as Yahno provided the newcomer, Sylvius, with his task. It was clear that the dark elf was not one for idle chit-chat, his commands precise and direct. She watched them ascend the stairs, disappearing through the tavern doors. The echo of Yahno's final words, a reminder of the seriousness of the tasks that laid ahead, lingered in the air. She then turned her attention to Captain Yonny as he started to speak, his words a sobering mix of welcome and warning. She watched him closely, her keen eyes studying his demeanor and the slight shift in his tone when he mentioned their potential fiery demise.

For a moment, Sylqarin sat in silence, her gaze moving from Captain Yonny to Miva, then back to the empty space where Yahno and Sylvius had stood. She was no stranger to danger; she knew it well, and it had been her constant companion ever since her parents' demise. But she was also no fool. Her time with the rebellion had taught her the importance of careful planning and strategic decisions, of evaluating risks and potential outcomes.

Taking a deep breath, she pushed away from the table, her chair scraping softly against the stone floor. She gave Yonny a firm nod, her gaze steady and unwavering. "As much as I appreciate the invitation to flee, Captain Yonny," she started, a slight hint of sarcasm seeping into her tone, "I believe I'll stick around. I didn't join this rebellion to run at the first sign of danger." Her voice was soft, but it carried an underlying strength, a steely resolve that echoed in the quiet cellar. "However," she continued, her tone shifting to a more serious one, "it would be helpful if we had a clearer picture of what we're walking into."

As she spoke, Sylqarin moved around the room, her fingers brushing lightly over the dusty barrels and crates. She was thinking, formulating plans and strategies, potential scenarios and countermeasures. Her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, her heart steady with determination. She had a purpose, a mission, a fight worth fighting for, and she wouldn't back down. Not now, not ever.

Retracing her steps, Sylqarin returned to the table and pulled out a parchment from her satchel. Unrolling it on the table, she looked up at Yonny and Miva. "I don't have a map of Baanwin, but I can draw one from memory," she stated, her fingers already moving, marking key locations and pathways. "If we are to take on this task, we need to be prepared. Knowledge is power, after all." As she spoke, her voice took on a steady rhythm, the sound of hope and determination cutting through the tense silence. Her eyes were alight with a fierce resolve, the sparks of rebellion burning brightly in their depths.
 
Yardal's face went blank for a moment as he blinked in a mixture of confusion and disbelief. "BAHAhahahahahshahahahahahah, oh your a character Missy... Baanwin is on the other side of the world! us here in Fiefallah. We're trying to save our home, not launch a invasion on the Dragon king."

Yardal chuckled again "I can't tell if your serious or not... but to get back on topic, you two..." the big man points at the ladies "...need to get cleaned up, try on some provocative clothes and practice dancing. The prince takes in attractive women to use and abuse every week, we learned he has a thing for dancing girls. If you two dance using magic it might be enough to take just you two to his chambers. If you two can seduce him enough to slit his throat job well done, if you two can lead him to a balcony or give Yahno a view inside then Royce and him will be able to ambush the scum."
Yardal went off into the darkness of the cellar and brought a large sack full of women's clothes to the table.

"You ever dance miss Sylqarin? I could draw you the steps, ahahah... aw I don't mean to tease, I can honestly say I've not met one like you miss Sylqarin for a long time."
Yahno was coming back down to hear Yardal laughing "what's up Yonny?"
"its just been so long since I've met a hero" the big man seemed much more jolly than before.
"I'll judge your assessment after I've seen them work, it's the honey pot tatic then?"
The dark elf asked noticing a bag of clothes spilling onto the table.

"Aye, what with three men and two ladies... one of which survived Baanwin... how else we gonna murder a scumbag prince?" Yardal contains his laughter but Yahno didn't understand the joke.
"well we have time before he kidnaps a new harem. We'll need to make the most of it, us three would be in the thick of it, you an Roy would be somewhat safe outside..."
Yardal shrugged "I can't fit in any disguise, besides. We know Bartoloe has a thing for dancers, we so happen to have two fine young ladies capable of magic. A dance of fire and wind should surely be captivating, interesting enough to lead a drunk prince to the balcony for a magical performance."

Yahno agreed but didn't mention it outloud due to how simple it sounded. Was still the best plan they had though considering the numbers available and the target.
 
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Sylqarin kept her face steady as Yardal corrected her, a faint blush appearing on her cheeks as she realized her mistake. It was a simple one, but it was still a mistake. "My apologies, I must have misspoke," she admitted, her voice soft but unyielding. She wasn't one to shy away from admitting her errors, as each one was a learning opportunity. "Fiefallah, not Baanwin. It seems my mind is already planning multiple steps ahead."

As Yardal explained the plan, Sylqarin's brows furrowed. She was an accomplished archer and a skilled strategist, but a seductive dancer? That was a new role, and she wasn't sure how to feel about it. However, she didn't let her doubts cloud her judgment. They were fighting against a powerful enemy, and they needed to use every tool at their disposal.

"I'm no dancer," she confessed, her gaze focused on the bag of clothes Yardal had brought to the table. "But I can learn. I'm willing to play the part if it helps our cause."

Her eyes narrowed as she looked at Miva, a silent agreement possibly passing between them. She might not have liked the plan, but she recognized its potential. A dance of fire and wind—it was an intriguing idea, one that could potentially turn the tables in their favor.

"I guess we'll need to start practicing then," she said, her tone filled with determination. "Yardal, you mentioned that you could teach me the steps. When do we start?"

The comment about being a hero drew a chuckle from her. "Hero is a strong word," she said, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "I'm just a woman trying to make a difference. If that makes me a hero, then so be it."

She reached into the bag, pulling out a couple of the outfits. They were provocative, as Yardal had said, but there was also a certain beauty to them. The fabric was soft and colorful, the designs intricate and detailed. She would have to become someone else, a captivating dancer capable of ensnaring a prince. It was a daunting task, but Sylqarin was up for the challenge. With the rebellion at her back and her parents' memory in her heart, she was ready to face whatever came her way.

After all, she was Sylqarin Thaeldrova—half-elf archer, air mage, and now, a dancer.
 
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Miva stayed in her corner as the others spoke. Drifting in and out of the conversation as it was already growing tiresome. Her eyes drifting over to Sylqarin as she rolled out a piece of parchment. So eager. Miva thought, watching the half-elf's hand move quickly over the parchment. Her eyes immediately darting to the dark elf when laughter exploded out of his mouth. She bit the inside of her cheek as to not say anything. It simply wasn't her place to voice her displeasure of loud noises. Looking back at Sylqarin to see how she took the news, only to find a hint of embarrassment in her flushed cheeks. A slight smile tugged at Miva's lips upon seeing this. She respected a woman who didn't let to much show, instead Sylqarin seemed to easily collect herself after misspeaking.

Picking up her cup Miva was about to move towards the group until she heard the dark elves remarks, the tips of her ears immediately turning red. Her eyes looking over to Sylqarin who gave her a look as if to say, I don't want to do this any more than you. She again commended the half-elf for keeping her cool under such an insulting request. Miva would not be as kind. "I don't dance." Miva spoke up, crossing her arms over her chest, not moving from her barrel. "You have me believe this is the only way for use to accomplish this task?" She stared down this man, her eyes steady on him. "Of course you see no issue with this. However, seeing you call upon the guild to send their strongest people and you insult us by having us play a harlot?" Miva gave a low chuckle as she shook her head. She had already faced enough embarrassment growing up in the guild. These honey pot tricks being held over her head time and time again. Of course she want to assist in the cause, however she refused to be made a fool.

Miva's pride had always been a sore subject. Always feeling like she had to give up her pride in the name of change, but recently this changed. She was not ready to dive into exactly why this had changed but Miva knew for sure she was not about to blindly agree to dressing up as a dancer without some pushback. Prior to coming on this mission her leader had asked for Miva to work on her anger. Obviously Miva did not start working on this prior to leaving. Miva looked to Sylqarin, pursing her lips before opening them to speak. "Don't even attempt to learn to dance until this man gives a better reason on why this is the only way to trap the prince."
 
Sylqarin remained silent as she observed the tension brewing between Yardal and Miva. She understood Miva's frustration and respected her right to voice it. She empathized with her friend's fiery defiance but had long learned to choose her battles. This mission was a means to an end, a strategic move in a bigger game.

With a calming sigh, she turned to Miva, her hand resting lightly on the map. "I understand your anger, Miva," she said, her voice steady yet soft. "No one should be forced into a role they're uncomfortable with. But we have to consider our options, weigh the potential outcomes."

She then turned to Yardal, her brown eyes burning with determination. "However," she continued, her voice holding a touch of authority, "Miva's right. If this is our strategy, it should be backed by solid reasoning, not just because it's unexpected. We need a contingency plan, in case things go awry."

She gestured at the map, her eyes scanning the intricate details of the prince's palace. "We need more information, Yardal. Guards' schedules, palace layout, possible escape routes...everything. Without it, we're heading into this mission half-blind."

As the group debated the strategy, Sylqarin couldn't help but feel the weight of her role within the rebellion. She may have appeared calm and composed, but beneath the surface, her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and concerns. The lives of her comrades rested on the decisions they made, and she was acutely aware of the consequences of failure.

Despite her apprehensions, she knew she couldn't afford to let doubt cloud her judgment. She had a job to do, and she'd do it to the best of her abilities. She owed that to the memory of her parents and to those who believed in her.

With newfound resolve, Sylqarin focused on the map, her brow furrowed as she began formulating a plan. The fire of rebellion burned bright within her, fueled by her indomitable spirit and unwavering conviction. The path ahead may be fraught with danger, but Sylqarin Thaeldrova was ready to face whatever challenges came her way.

She turned to Yardal, her voice firm. "I will learn the dance, but this will not be our only strategy. We prepare for every possibility, every outcome." She gestured to the map. "So, let's get to work."

With her decisive words hanging in the air, Sylqarin felt a peculiar calmness descend over her. She was ready to take on the challenges that lay ahead, to embrace the trials and tribulations with courage and determination. After all, she was not just a half-elf archer or a reluctant dancer; she was Sylqarin Thaeldrova, the determined rebel fighting for the freedom of her people.
 
Yardal laughed again but it wasn't as loud as the previous one. Yahno had a bit of a grimace on his face knowing exactly what Yardal was going to reply with. "We sent word months ago begging for help and you lot literally arrived this week. Three half elves and some blonde implying that she's the best thing sent to help? Naza there can teleport and he isn't even one of the strongest fingers."
"ehh, fuck you to" Yahno mumbles. But Yardal goes on not breaking eye contact with his newest helper.

"I suppose you've spent months studying the prince's habits aswell as the schedule his guards keep? I suppose you have a telepath risking their life to discover any information at all about this near invincible shitstain? Cause i have. As the leader of this chapter you will do exactly as I order SPECIFICALLY because you were sent here to help. If you have a better plan let me hear it. If you don't want to follow orders piss off very quickly."
Yardal looks down at Miva waiting for a answer. He may be the leader of a small chapter but Yardal wasn't one to be talked down to, especially when his work was being questioned.

Yahno wondered when they started calling Yardal by his name cause he introduced him as captain Yonny. Either way he figured he should try and smooth this over a bit. "big man is right, he's had the most time and men on this and seeing as our fighting forces is less then ten the best plan is to use whatever assets we can. The prince only leaves his mansion to fly about as a dragon, apart from that he's just partying in there with women from the city and his most trusted men. Since that's been going on for almost a year now I imagine some new faces would easily make it inside... what with no volunteers from the city, the guards have to kidnap victims... you two can help try and put a stop to that. I just need you to open a window then I can teleport in with Roy and whatever weapons you use. You'd be acting as a virgin dancer, not harlots... unless you got a better plan to share"
Yahno shrugged hoping he helped.
 
Sylqarin took in Yardal’s words, her frustration simmering beneath her calm exterior. She was used to dealing with disagreements, and the constant tension that came with the rebellion, but this blatant disregard felt like an insult.

She turned to Yahno, his words hanging heavily in the air. "Virgin dancers," he'd said, as if that eased their discomfort. "Open a window," as if their role was a simple one. She grasped the logic behind the plan, but the lack of respect and consideration for their feelings stung.

She met Yardal's defiant gaze, determination replacing the usual spark of joviality in her eyes. The half-elf was no stranger to adversity, and she wouldn't back down.

"Yardal," she began, her voice steady, "Your words do nothing but create dissent. We were sent here to assist, not to be disregarded or belittled." She turned to Yahno, her expression softening slightly. "And you, Yahno, you try to make this plan sound more acceptable by downplaying our discomfort. The label of 'virgin dancers' doesn't sit well with us. It's not just about what the prince expects, it's about how this plan reduces us to mere bait."

She turned her gaze back to the map, her thoughts racing. "If this is the only strategy, then I'm prepared to do my part. But do not mistake my agreement as acceptance of your attitudes. We deserve respect, and I expect it henceforth."

Sylqarin glanced at Miva, her new companion. She was aware that she could not speak for Miva, that she would voice her thoughts in her own time and manner. But she hoped her own words might encourage Miva to express her feelings on the matter. Regardless, Sylqarin was ready to support Miva and stand by her side, no matter what the decision.
 
Yahno looked a bit annoyed at Sylqarin as he took a moment to understand. "bait? Discomfort? Lady we are trying to kill a draghart, In any plan which involves murdering a dragon do you expect a degree of comfort? Let me tell you If the prince was abducting men to keep him company do you have any idea how much easier it would be for us to get inside? I would have made a attempt on his life five days ago"
Yahnos tone was incredulous.

Yardal's face remains unimpressed "respect is earned, I appreciate help but I've no need for any so easily offended." He looked at Yahno saying "im taking over for Roy, he says he'll be ready to leave by sunset"
The dark elf sighed knowing he would most likely have to practice his magic to work with more than two people.
"yea I know"
Yardal left up the stairs.
 
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As Yardal disappeared up the stairs, Sylqarin's gaze lingered on the spot he'd vacated. His dismissive attitude chafed, and while she was adept at keeping her emotions under control, the frustration in the pit of her stomach was hard to ignore. She knew that respect had to be earned, but it was also a fundamental right and expectation in any group operation, especially one as delicate as theirs.

With a heavy sigh, she turned her attention back to the map, her fingers tracing over the intricate details. She understood the gravity of the situation; they were going to assassinate a Draghart, and the discomfort was a necessary evil. But that didn't mean it didn't sting.

"Yahno," she addressed, keeping her tone neutral. "Your points are noted, and you're right. This is about killing a Draghart, and our comfort shouldn't come into play. However, it's essential to address concerns and to ensure that all members feel valued. My point was not about my discomfort, but rather about the approach to it."

She offered a curt nod, hoping to put an end to the argument. It was not productive and certainly wasn't helping their mission. Yet, she felt a twinge of satisfaction having voiced her concerns. It was better out than festering within.
 

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