Atheryin: Fall of Thyros

[Baloth-Kul]

"Anything, might help me survive a little longer." He scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Maybe a cloak, large enough to at least cover some of my armour. Draw a bit less attention to myself." Baldric suddenly wondered why he never bothered to have a cloak in the first place.

[POMC S117]

Conrai's Tent

Conrai looked at Q'lora, somewhat confused. "Why yes, of course you can go." He said, though on the inside he appeared to be wondering why Q'lorra needed to ask his leave in the first place.

Lord Eláron's Tent

Aneira found herself in Lord Eláron's tent, a large structure filled with many armed guards and hangers on. Eláron Tohrá himself was sitting at a desk, looking over maps and other such things related to the war. Occasionally, he would write something down, or note something in his ledger.

Lord Eláron appeared to be in his early 50's, and has a grizzled face, which in passing looked nothing like his nephew's, though, if you were to spent a length of time looking upon it, you would have perhaps seen a faint familial resemblance. His nose appeared to have been broken several times, he had scars all along his face, and on his balding head. If he head any around his mouth, no one would know, for he has a small thick salt and pepper beard on it.

"If only Orpheus were the [&@%!]..." he mumbled to himself, failing to notice Aneira. After a few moments, he glanced up and saw her. "Who the hell are you?" he said, before a moment later realising. "You're that Templar [&@%!], aren't you? I saw you riding next to Sir Conrai, Anndrais told me all about you, though it seems in his hatred he declined to mention you were a Rínnan. I have no love for you and your ilk, but if Orpheus trusts you enough not to have you hung in Gryphon's Way, I suppose I'll have to remain pleasant. Now, what do you want?"

The Mercenary Camp

Odhran arrived at the camp of the Black Axe Mercenaries. He found the camp to be the complete opposite of the legion camps he had passed through, there was no real order here. Ale and women seemed to flow with the same speed, and nearly everyone partook.

A well-armed Leoth sitting on a barrel called over to to him."What the [&@%!] do you want, Dunaan? If you're here to see the boss, he's in his tent, if you aren't, [&@%!] off somewhere else."

The Legion Camp

As Luthais wandered, he came into the camp's of one of the legion's. His first view of the camp was not one of order and organisation that you would expect to see in a legion camp. Two legionaries seemed to be standing, only a few feet from each other, shouting and swearing, and gesturing with their fists, at each other, surrounded by a throng of jeering men. Some other legionaries called on them to break off, but, within a few seconds, the shouting had escalated, and soon the two legionaries were wrestling on the floor. There was a sound of shouting, and a centurion could be seen charging through the crowd and towards the squabbling men, his vine cane prepared, in full swing.

Then, there came a cry, and the torso of one of the legionaries became red with blood, as the other drew a dagger from his tunic. Then, the centurion let loose a hail of blows on the back of the armed legionary, the cane cutting through his tunic and into the flesh of his back. The other legionaries rushed forward, and pulled the wounded legionary away, as some held the guilty legionary and dragged him over to a crate.

The centurion stood beside the crate, and was joined by other centurions from the legion. "This man has broken the law, and must be punished! Let this be known to to those among you, who may speak of disorder and disarray, that the punishment for drawing and using a weapon against a fellow soldier, is greater than the crime! He shall receive ten lashes from each centurion of the cohort, five from the centurions of the other cohorts, for a total of two-hundred and fifty lashes, or the number of lashes until he drops dead from the pain."

The Lyrian Camp

"A cloak? A cloak he says, but there are many kinds of a cloak, what do you require? We have cloaks of fine silk and cloaks of fur, we have cloaks that would make you prettier than a royal maiden, or cloaks that would simply make you vanish, but those would be beyond your means, no? They are beyond the means of most everyone. Come, sit, and we will discuss a deal. Ah, but before we do that, you must share some of our pleasures, it is only custom, my friend."

[Hissien]

Q'lorra nodded and left the tent, looking for Mak. Though she suspected that he would likely be far too busy to help her.

[Derp53]

"Well, aren't you just charming Elaron....." Aneira thought to herself, then clearing her throat and forcing herself to remain civil she bowed to Elaron respectfully "I had just come to apologize and clarify, Orpheus understood when I explained to him the circumstances and the reputation that proceeds you is an impressive one so if anyone can understand what I have to say it would be one such as you. First off I was forced to be a Templar by my father who would have had me pass on important logistical information to him from my position within the order, second myself and the Rinnan's are sympathetic to your cause and while I don't quite know your problem with my family I humbly apologize for the trouble I have caused from my prior position within the templars." Once again Aneira bowed respectfully hoping that if Elaron was treated with respect he would be bit more receptive to dialogue.

[Baloth-Kul]

Baldric sat down with the Lyrian. "Fur or wool. Something dark or...neutral coloured, help me blend in."

[The SheoDovah]

"I'll see you guys later." Saroné told everyone as he left in search for some ale and to see what an army camp was like.

[Sav]

Odhran tried his best to put on an unassuming smile. "Why, I'm just here for some ale." He took a glance at his surroundings, before turning back to the Leoth. "It seems like there's plenty to go around. Perhaps you'd be kind enough to share?"

[All hail!]

What on earth?! thought Luthais, upon seeing the fight. "What's going on here?" he asked of a nearby soldier, hoping the response wouldn't be curt.

[POMC S117]

The Legion Camp

The legionary didn't turn to face Luthais, assuming that he was a fellow legionary. "Eh, I'm not entirely sure. Some argument, I believe, which escalated, as you can see. That legionary there, Thyrós, who's about to be beaten to death, poor sod, though, not that he didn't deserve it, well, he took a knife to a fist fight, and stabbed Aonghas." he then turned to face Luthais. "Hey, you're not a legionary. What're you doing here? The levy camp's down the hill." The legionry flinched as Thyrós' cries reached into the air, and the centurion came down with a hail of blows against his naked back, turning it red and raw.

Mak's Tent

Q'lorra found the college mage in his tent, a smaller affair than that of the lords and legates, it had a large desk and many chests thrown about the room, likely filled with supplies and other such things. The Dramer stood in the middle of the tent, studying several parchments filled with numbers and calculations, amongst other things. He glanced up and saw her. "Greetings, Q'lorra." He said. "I'm quite busy, but I can make time for you, I need a second set of eyes for this. I knew something was wrong the moment I got here, and I began taking notes, and preparing. From what I can see, the palisade is thin here, so very thin, almost like a fissure has appeared here, but not quite. I'm wondering what's going on in the Fort, if there's Templars in there, what are they doing tearing the palisade? Anyway, I need an extra set of eyes for this, I'll be performing the Faelands exam here, you know the way it works, right? If the light changes colour, there's a hole in the Palisade, the darker it is, the bigger the tear. Faros, bring the large oak chest over here." As he said that, a young-looking Tallin man ran over to grab the chest. Q'lorra knew that if the palisade was torn in the Fort, it likely meant some unholy creature was waiting inside.

Lord Eláron's tent

Eláron listened to Aneira speak, and a frown began to appear on his face. "Are you dim, Rínnan? Touched in the head? I can see why your father pawned you off to the Templars, for you seem to believe I have no love for the Rínnan, when in reality, I meant the Templars. Actually, I really don't give a damn about the Rínnan, I've never had any dealings with them in my life, in fact, I've barely even heard of them, I just know their symbol from my travels through the Dún. I have no clue what you're apologising for, but I'll accept it none the less.

Tell me, is this your first time outside of the Rín?"

The Lyrian Camp

"Fur he says, and fur it is." The Lyrian speaking to Baldric said. "You shall blend in wherever you go, my friend, but the question is why blend in? Why do you not seek to stand out from the crowd, why do you not want to carve a separate path, that is what this one wishes to know, indeed it is. Your fur shall be fetched, yes it shall, in the mean time, partake with us, Jarvah, let they who are without a continent speak to the elder race in the highest manner." As the Lyrian Akko said this, another Lyrian brought a hookah pipe to Baldric. "The first time is never quite like the rest of them."

The Storeroom

Saroné arrived outside the tent storing the ale and other food supplies. Outside it stood two Legion guards, amongst the best in the Rebellion. Saroné saw no way inside except through the front.

The Mercenary Camp

"[&@%!] off, Dunaan." The Leoth replied. "This ale is for black axe members only, and I don't recall ever seeing you before. You should leave before I make you." He threatened. Odhran noticed the Leoth was sitting near a sharp rock, if he pushed him off, it was likely the Leoth would fall on it.

[Sav]

"Oh? And who are you to say who leaves and goes?" Odhran asked, with a hint of mockery in his voice. He slowly took a few steps forward, preparing to push the Leoth off if any violence was to ensue.

[VirtualWeasel]

"I'm a [&@%!] Black Axe, that's who, and that means it's MY ale. Go on back to your prim legion camp and find your own ale, Dunaan." As he was rattling off to Odhran, the man didn't bother to stand and assert himself physically, clearly conscious that he could win any fight with a scrawny Dunaan.

[Baloth-Kul]

Baldric took a long drag from the hookah, and slowly breathed the smoke out. "No papers." He saw no reason to lie, here. "I'm an exile. I chose to carve a separate path, but I'm doing it smart. Low profile, until I have enough distance from the kingdom, or enough status to be...untouchable."

[Derp53]

Slightly embarrassed at her blunder, Aneira meekly slid on to answer Elaron's question "I've been to Rekkan once and Celadon as well as most of Dun. I can't say I'm surprised you haven't heard of us though, Rinnan foreign policy normally involves trade deals and backdoors more than military conquest and political pull." As she spoke her confidence began to recover, then going on she returned a question "Let me ask you a question in return then, as a more experienced and I'm going to hazard the use of the word bitter, noble, what is a valuable lesson you learned in your youth?" Tired of being insulted, there was a subtle bit of internalized disdain in her voice.

[BetaB17]

The scholar, keeping to himself just near the border of the camps and their inhabitants, not far from the Lyrians and their tents. It was not that he felt unwelcomed, but rather the surrounding flora seemed more interesting than fire and steel. With a small scroll in hand and fresh ink upon it's surface, he etched the image of a single native fern. For each plant has a tale of it's own, and while many would think him mad they can tell him much of how the land fairs. Periodically the Kutai would even look upon the sky, not to see if night shall fall but to what whispers the wind carried. Not all seemed well, and something troubled him so, maybe it would of been best not to join the others on that wagon

[Sav]

As soon as Black Axe was done speaking, Odhran got closer to him, before using all his strength to push the Leoth off the barrel, hoping he would fall on the rock and injure himself.

[Hissien]

"Perhaps there's a way I can assist you?" Q'lorra suggested, knowing full well that Mak probably wouldn't need it. "I know little enough of Fell Creatures but I will do anything I can." She said, though she would probably regret doing so later.

[VirtualWeasel]

The Lyrian Camp

The smoke was cool and crisp in the Jarvah's lungs, numbing them, and producing an extremely peculiar feeling. As it moved from the lungs to his blood upon exhaling, the numbing coolness could be felt like a tidal wave of ecstasy, settling in on the body ever so gently. The world seemed to move just a little bit slower now, stress didn't seem to impede the high, and the whole body seemed to be cooled and relaxed by the Entes bark's smoke.
But, another feeling began to become ever so present, even the minor amounts of Kvurian Nightshade could be felt, pounding in the Jarvah's chest like a deep, goatskin drum. It started slow, but soon seemed to pulsate over the entire body. It was as if all the world's beauty had enveloped him at once. But, with this came a stiffening tiredness.
Though, strangely, the drug had barely inhibited motor skills yet, speech was still articulate, and the mind even seemed to be more creative under its influence. The only impeding effect, so far, being a loss of balance.
One of the merchants softly spoke to Baldric, noticing the rather heavy head he'd gotten from the pipe.
"It is best we try not to sleep." She snickered playfully, looking around at the others for approving faces. The first merchant who had been doing business with the Jarvah continued after her.
"Untouchable is not their way, no, no, Jarvah always hit their mark, Jarvah always finds his man. Jarvah does not fail, for his legacy is on the line. The Jarvah find their peace in finding you. No, you will be untouchable when you show them they can find you, but return home in their coffins.
That is the Jarvah way."

Lord Eláron's Tent

Eláron's brow raised ever so inquisitively at Aneira's question. He leaned back slowly in his chair, uninterested now with the work before him. He cast a feigned glance of disbelief to one of the guards standing at attention in the room, before beginning to talk.
"I learned to respect my superiors, my betters, and my elders. That got me far in life, child, and a bit of practice in the same field would do you good as well." He shot Aneira a scornful glance, refraining from reprimanding her for the evident unpleasant attitude she carried.

Aes, Alone In A Field, Drawing Plants

One of the merchant's assistants, a young Lyrian girl, who must have only just left the care of her parents, spotted the lonely Kutai in the distance as she fetched a cloak for Baldric. Curious, she approached the strange creature, sitting next to him in the grass.
"Hello." She said carefully, but inquisitively.

The Mercenary Camp

The Leoth was flung off his seat, falling backwards onto the large stone. It pierced his cheap, thin armor, cutting into the right side of his back. He let out a deafening wail as it happened, writhing around on the ground afterward in immense pain.
It wasn't lethal, by any means, but the wound was painful enough to keep the Leoth from getting up any time soon.

Hidden:

Hissien, I'm gonna leave your reply to Pom or at least gonna wait until I can talk with him about how this whole process works, before I post anything.

[Sav]

Odhran smiled to himself, feeling triumphant. He knelt down next to the injured Leoth. "Are you okay, friend? Your fall looked rather painful." He said, his voice thick with malice, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword.

[BetaB17]

At first he hardly noticed his serenity was now shared, but in a brief moment his hand went stiff while in the mist of it's strokes. Shade in his eyes and face hidden from all, he still tried to put a welcoming appeal even if it shall go unseen. "My my, what do we have, a curious one yes?" He spoke kindly and softly, like an elder to his youth

[The SheoDovah]

"Greetings." Saroné said to the 2 legionaires as he approached them but ensured he was out of punching range. "Could i help myself to a tiny bit of ale?" He asked them.

[All hail!]

Luthais couldn't help but cringe at what was happening to Thyrós. "I'm not a levy." He replied to the Legionary "I'm uh..the duke's guest of honour." he said. It wasn't an outright lie, but it was certainly an inflation of what was really going on.

[Baloth-Kul]

Baldric took in a slow, deep breath of air, and gradually released it, getting a feel for this high. He looked into the Lyrian's eyes. He was going to contradict the merchant, but he stopped, and considered. There was wisdom in those words. They would never stop hunting him until he dug in his heels. Station could help further, if he had loyal men to fight for him, or at least perhaps finer arms and armour.

He gave a brief chuckle. "You know more about being a Jarvah than I do. ...And you're right. I'm done running, and I'm done hiding." Baldric rolled his shoulders as he contemplated his future. "I'll still take that cloak, though."

[Sloady]

Spoiler:

I've been away for a couple days, apologies. I've just sobered up. Where should I be? Or does it even matter?

[Derp53]

"Yes, that is something I've heard, though one could also say that respect is earned regardless of age or rank. For not all high ranks are earned with merit, at least not with a majority of current political systems today." Upon finishing her sentence Aneira adopted a more respectful tone again. Then another thought left her before she could check herself "That being said milord, what do you make of the modern political systems of inheritance, where one noble inherits the title and responsibility of their forefathers? In Dun it is only kept around for its convenience and traditions within our religion but in Thyressia feudal systems seem preferred."

[Baloth-Kul]

Hidden:

Sloady, you can be wherever you want in camp, I imagine. There's mercs about to murder Sav, there's the legionary camp, there's the Lyrian camp.