Atheryin: Fall of Thyros

[Derp53]

Aneira nodded in appreciation and agreement at Elaron's response, then she replied "Does gender matter in noble's application of courage? If some are born with it and others not, can a woman be greater than a man or is one gender weaker than another in your eyes?" Though the question was seemed a no brainer there was a waiting silence in her attitude as she finished her sentence, Aneira made no attempt to hide that her next answer would vary greatly on what Elaron said.

[Sloady]

"Like my people then," Ran replied. The Lyrians were similar to the Dramer in so many ways, it startled the elf. Unwelcome in most places, Dramer and Lyrian's alike secured their place in the world by becoming necessities - something the Templar's were keen to destroy. "Where are you bound, after the battle is done?"

[Sav]

Seeing an opening, Odhran swung his sword at the Jarvah's legs, hoping his attack would at the least slow the Jarvah down.

[The SheoDovah]

"Greetings." Saroné replied to the Tallin. "I'm not part of the legion but a humble merchant that had the misfortune to be dragged out his bed by the templars and was rescued by the duke's men. It's a long story that requires a few tankards of ale and a few lovely women." He told the elf. "Never forgive those [&@%!] for ruining my robes." He muttered in a hateful tone under his breath.

[BetaB17]

"Ah indeed I am." He replied "These flora, simple they may be, can tell me plenty of the lands that I travel." He attempted a light hearted chuckle "But I guess you would know a thing or two about travel now would you? Tell me, which land do you hail from?"

[All hail!]

"I told you". Luthais replied. "I'm an honoured guest of the Duke, in a sense. Me and some others were captured by the Templars, and some Knights rescued us. What the Duke actually needs a bunch of nobodies for in a rebellion, I don't know."

[POMC S117]

Lord Eláron's Tent

"If you are asking if I view women as lesser than men, then I need only tell you that the only person that I fear in this world is my wife. But, I grow tired of this numerous barrage of questions. Have I been pulled in front of the judges? I must attend to matters of strategy and tactics, and that commands my full attention. It has been interesting to speak to you, at least. Perhaps we will meet again." Eláron said, turning his attention back to the wide range of maps laid out in front of him, and the mess of notes around the maps, detailing anything from terrain problems to enemy troop positions.

The Lyrian Camp

"The Jarvah is smarter than most think." The Lyrian laughed. "It is wise to always be prepared, out on the trails you never know what you might find..or what might find you. Always prepared, always watching, this is smart."

The Lyrian inhaled some smoke from his pipe once more.

"We are not bound anywhere after the battle is done, Dramer, for this caravan does not think it would be so wise to stay for it, we leave at sundown, we will pack up our Jur and head on soon. We plan to travel away from Velamyk and south, towards Thyrra. We will linger there, for a time. After that, who knows where we shall go? I believe we shall return to the Ohkorra, several of my clan have urged me to go to Nokana, but I shall not go to Lyria until all of the ira Tyrosi can."

Ael

"I'm from Farmoka." The Lyrian child answered. "It's a Lyrian village in the Ohkorra desert. Where are you from?"

Spoiler:

Jur = House(Lyrian)

Velamyk = Eýn Mountains(Lyrian)

ira Tyrosi = Children of Taurus(Lyrian)

Farmoka, from Faermoka(Lyrian) meaning Gold Fort/Tower

The Legionary Tent

"Well, fate has blessed you, it seems. I assume the Templars were taking you to be executed. Trust me, most of us here have lost someone to the [&@%!] Templars." the legionary with the injured leg said. "Say, where do you come from? I take it you're a farmer of some sort."

Saroné

"Come on, then." the Tallin said. "Tell me the story. You have me interested. It'd be criminal to say so little. I can't promise any beverages at the end, but maybe I'll be able to repay your tale with a story of my own."

The Duel

Odhran's attack hit it's mark, the non-armoured legs of the Jarvah. The cut was deep, however, and the large Jarvah didn't feel the pain in the heat of the moment. "Trying to hide, [&@%!]?!" he roared, rounding on Odhran and delivering a large blow with the flat of his axe, which bloodied Odhran's face. He felt a few of his teeth become loose. The Jarvah advanced again on the Dunaan, but the Jarvah finally caught on to the seriousness of his wound and stopped, before advancing again, though at a much slower pace.

[All hail!]

Spoiler:

Er, where would Luthais be from?

[Derp53]

"Very well then, I understand your workload my friend, the pleasure's been mine." Aneira refrained from her native method of saying goodbye, she bowed her head respectfully unsure of the local custom and left the tent going in the direction of the Lyrian camp.

[POMC S117]

Spoiler:

Perhaps he could be from Túnsen or from somewhere else in Thyressia?

[The SheoDovah]

"I am a better story teller with some ale in me or a fine woman on my lap but i suppose regailing one with a tale will pass the time." Saroné told the Tallin as he looked at the fighting priests. "But i would prefer to do it elsewhere and near a campfire." He informed the tallin and would follow them.

Hidden:

Then it was revealed the elf was a woman and Saroné had his manhood removed.

[VirtualWeasel]

Hidden:

Since I guess nobody else is going to respond...

Aneira
Eláron nodded at the Dunaan's leave, and began to fiddle with his work. As Aneira approached the Lyrian camp, the canids thought nothing of her joining with them, seeing as it must have been a common trend among the outsiders of the siege camp.

Saroné
The Tallin walked toward a nearby pile of crates and barrels, sitting on the top of one and implying Saroné should do the same.
"Now come on, don't be shy." He waited for Saroné to begin his tale.

The Lyrian Camp
The Lyrian guard wandered around the wagons, searching for any sign of the young girl who had been ordered to fetch Baldric's cloak. Unable to find her, he emitted a thick snarl before mumbling under his breath.
"Beras paia..." Frustrated, he swung open the back of the end wagon, the doors banging against the dark, wooden and iron wagon edges. The armored Lyrian tossed around item after item, digging through crates, chests, and barrels in search for the requested cloak. Finding one, finally, large enough and decorated with a simple light and dark grey fur and a thick hide underside. He grabbed another trinket from a large, built-in wardrobe-like structure within the wagon interior, and continued out of the vessel back to the fireplace, the whole time mockingly muttering to himself.

[Baloth-Kul]

Hidden:

Baldric's just waiting for his cloak, man

[VirtualWeasel]

Hidden:

Baldric's just waiting for his cloak, man

Hidden:

Edited for that

[Baloth-Kul]

Baldric breathed in and out calmly. Normally, he would be impatiently demanding his goods, but he was in an odd place. Meditative. Plus, he was high. He thought on his future as he waited patiently.

[Derp53]

Aneira entered the camp noting a smell familiar with Rin's markets and kicked a log besides Baldric's seat breathing through her mouth and coughing a bit at the lingering smell "You know Jarvah, that stuff is going to give you a nasty headache in the morning, by the way sorry about carting you up a mountain to be ritually sacrificed, not really something I wanted to do but Templar commanders like executing people that tell them to [&@%!] off." Her voice was slow in acknowledgement of Baldric's high and she leaned out of reach unsure of Baldric's temper.

[Baloth-Kul]

Baldric didn't look at Aneira, but he spoke to the former Templar. "There's no profit in grudges." He turned his head to face her. "Unless you plan on trying again." He didn't laugh, but his tone of voice suggested he was at least somewhat joking.

He noted her distance. "I'm not going to strike you. Not unless you pull a blade on me, anyway."

[Derp53]

Sensing a lack of hostility she sat up normally and leaned forward "There's no reason for us distrust each other, I just haven't met a Jarvah who hasn't been hostile or dangerously short tempered. You seem different though, there's no reason we can't at the very least trust each other." Aneira was internally apprehensive, most Dunaan knew Jarvah as only raiders and barbarians.

[Baloth-Kul]

Baldric narrowed his eyes a little. "There's no profit in trust, either. Not the least when you're a Jarvah without papers." He shook his head. "I'll reserve my trust. But we can...work together, for the time being. You don't seem to be nearly as stupid as most other of our...companions, are." He was very reluctant to even associate himself with most of the others, and it showed as his face tensed at the word 'companions'.

He shifted a little. "I'm not all that different, though. As I said earlier, I've already killed twice since being freed. ...Not exactly by choice, but be warned that I'm no soft, potbellied little elf or wine-sotted fool."

[The SheoDovah]

Saroné sat down on top of a barrel. "Normally, i tell my tales with a flagon in my right hand and nothing in my left. But sadly, i will have to go without any ale. My tale began one month ago in the city of Arctun. The city is a lovely place and it's people are a mix bunch. Some will tell you to [&@%!] off, whilst some will greet you. Some just don't care and some will do anything to make some coin. But i am not doing the city justice and i am no bard." He told his fellow Tallin as he thought of home. He loved Arctun and had many fond memories of the city.

"I had just finished signing a contract with a local blacksmith after hours of talking and had returned to my father's shop. He and mother had gone away on holiday for the past few weeks and had trusted me to run our business. I hoped to improve our variety by convincing the locals to supply us in return for a fair wage. We even stocked cheese at one point but that was short lived and we ended up giving up due to how expensive it was to import." He told the tallin as he brushed his sleeve with his right hand.

"I returned to my house after checking on our shop. But to avoid confusion, our shop is a big warehouse and i like to call it a shop. Anyway, after a long hard day's work, i had a simple meal of fish and wine. The fish was freshly caught and it was magnificent. The wine was meant as a gift for my father but it had found it's way into my hand and it commanded me to drink it. Afterwards, i went to sleep in my nice soft warm bed. Now, this is where the templars come in and no, i did not lured into a trap by one of their women although i would have preferred it that way instead of what actually happened. I think it was midnight when i heard my front door being broken down and the sound of heavy boots walking on my rug. I do not remember how many of the steel [&@%!] there were but i do remember considering risking breaking my legs by jumping out of my window. They tore my house apart looking for me or prehaps they just wanted to really [&@%!] me off by destroying everything i owned. [&@%!]." He said with hate in his voice. "After what must have been 5 minutes, they found me and all i remember was being punched in the face and see the handle of a sword coming towards my face. The next thing i knew, i was wet and my magic did not want to be cast. I knew i would not be able to escape and they knew i wouldn't either. They had left a lone guard to keep watch over me and fortunately, they did not chain me to the wall. The cell stank of death and during the nights, i was lucky to see my own hand after the guard put out all of the torches. I remember hearing someone swear a lot before silence. Poor sod must have been killed or had their tongue removed. I do not know how much time i spent in their cell but i do remember being chucked into the wagon and little did i know that the Duke would end up saving my life. He sent his men to free us and the templars were ambushed by him. We met the duke in person and he invited us to a feast. Unlike most, i knew how to conduct myself at a feast and he asked us to help him. So, seeing as i'm a long way from home, i decided to aid his cause and with any luck, i will get a lot of women afterwards, permission to buy a warehouse over here and expand the business. But i will never forgive the templars for ruining my robes. Although it is a bit odd that they kept some of my belongings. I wonder if they intended to give me false hope of freedom or just fancied helping themselves to it." He ran his hand through his hair afterwards. "Next templar i see, they will burn." He told the tallin.

[Derp53]

"Killing in self defense is different from murder, you don't have the same attitude as a murderer anyway. I understand your sentiment though, there's really only one person I can look at without suspicion right now, however I want to make that two. The two Dramer are unknown to me and the idiot Tallin is the kind of man my father's guards had tossed out of my prescense, that leaves you."

Aneira was quiet for minute to let Baldric mull over her words, then she turned to face his direction and held out her hand and touched the pommel of her dagger with the other in accordance with the principle of extending one hand while arming the other "My name is Aneira by the way, a high born of Rin and as of now your acquaintance."

[Baloth-Kul]

High born. But different. Baldric looked down at Aneira's gesture, and extended his hand to reciprocate. "Baldric. No land or titles, just a solitary fugitive Jarvah, if that wasn't already made obvious."

The Jarvah looked over at Ran. "You don't strike me as being stupid, either."

[Derp53]

Aneira shook Baldric's hand and turned back to the fire "Baldric speaks truly, you're more tolerable than the other Dramer in our group, tell us something about yourself."

[BetaB17]

Naeryan responded, looking aware from his ink and scroll upon the sky "From the desert you say? And what of I, from high atop the leaves and canopy I hail. Though it has been long since I seen the jungles of Kira. Merely the origin of my birth, but my home is that which is beneath the stars.."

He looked back down to his paper and tried to scribble some more, only for his brush to run dry, leaving hsi wrok unfinished "Tsk, it seems I am in short supply of something in much need.." He looked upon the child "Tell me, you know this camp and it's trade, would there be a means to replenish my supply of ink? I would be most grateful if you knew where I could do so." He asked in a humble way, though the need for ink to procede with his work was most dire less future accounts go unwritten.

[Sav]

Odhran grimaced from the pain, but quickly began to back away as the Jarvah advanced on him. The Dunaan had noted the Jarvah's slower pace, and was ready to dodge any more incoming attacks, hoping it would be easier than before.