Jump to content

Angelcynn: The Myrcian Conflict - Act 4


Shin
 Share

Recommended Posts

"I know, I'm not protesting. I just don't want any more trouble for a while." It was true that Claire hadn't been sleeping too well, but part of her was just glad that the last week had progressed so smoothly. Cass seemed... better, at the least, even if her own sleep had been sacrificed with the amount of time they'd spent together. 

Freya asked the question, however, which slightly relieved Claire. "If you'd like to come, I don't mind. Cass?" Freya's company had been helpful before, and she was duty-bound enough to hold back any misgivings she may have over the princess now. Things should end up remaining at least relatively comfortable.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • Replies 842
  • Created
  • Last Reply

Top Posters In This Topic

"Well, that wouldn't be much fun at all! Unless you want to spend most of the time hiding around the city, looking for opportunities to go anywhere... maybe it would be fun, just in a different way." Sidney teased. "I would have to teach you all the shortcuts in Tytila! Or just how to be sneaky in general, which I think it's safe to say you don't think you have much experience with- sorry, dear." She squeezed Owen's hand, then started with him out the door. "Whether or not that would be interesting, there's no need for it, so let's just make the most of our time instead."

Walking past the guards, Sidney swung her arms slightly to the side, making sure that they noticed exactly whose hand she was holding. I think that should put any concerns about me to rest! "Anyway, I'm only hungrier now that I've been thinking of all this. There are lots of nice, small stores, hidden little places amongst the hustle and bustle of the city. I'm sure we'll find somewhere we both fancy soon enough."

Sidney leads Owen to some breakfast place that isn't the Golden Experience

Link to comment
Share on other sites

"Oh, is that so? That's quite a bother," he groaned. The walk likely wouldn't be long, but it was still an annoyance. With any luck, he'd be able to make it back in time. He would hate to have to make the trip twice. "Well, thanks for the help miss. Good day," he said, making he journey back to the wards. 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

"Oh, Freya coming along? I... Uhm..." Cass looked down, and away, for a moment, not really sure... It wasn't like Freya coming along would be a bad idea or anything, she just... Having someone else involved in her issues felt, poor. She'd already involved Claire, Owen, talked to Esclabor, and... Alain. She sighed. "Alright. I suppose if it's for our own safety then it would be better to have her come along. Wouldn't want to run into someone crazy unprepared." Already have enough instability right here.

"Oh, and we should probably go somewhere cheaper. I... I don't think we have a lot of gold left, and I'd... Rather not use more than what I already have. Oh, one moment." Cass dipped back into the room to grab-- "There it is." During the week, she'd made a stop over at their stores, and somehow, it was still with them. The sword Gawaint had left behind, one that fit her grip just right. It was a nostalgic, bittersweet feeling, holding it, but it still felt right. Fitting the scabbard to her belt, she hopped back over, nodding. "Alright. Whenever you're both ready, then."

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Oatful Outing

Sidney's choice to avoid the Golden Experience had resulted in an alternative location for breakfast. Whilst there were several venues that offered food, one in particular seemed to specialise in breakfast. It also stood out among the buildings, looking more like a quaint cottage rather than a business establishment, with its charming thatched roof and timber walls. The interior was filled with several small round tables, and a counter right next to a fireplace. There weren't a huge number of guests, but Nelon and Morta were sat in one of the corners, the young rider disgruntled as she allowed oatmeal to drip from her spoon into her bowl.

"Uncle Ceirch, you eat this every day? It looks like something a horse would eat... or maybe Angus." Morta asked, hesitant  to tackle the bowl in front of her. "I know you want to get back on your feet but is this going to help?"

A little old man, a head shorter than Owen manned the counter, wearing a pair of tiny spectacles and a cloth apron. "Welcome to Copperbottom's Cottage." he greeted as his guests entered. "We've got breakfast for princes and paupers, nobody goes hungry with my wife's cooking!"

Sucking Eggs

Jannes had his mages looked between each other, the ramblings of the old woman in front of them becoming more relevant. One of his colleagues was ready to dismiss Constance as insane, but Jannes raised his hand, signalling for silence from his companions. "I feel that this woman is somewhat familiar... are you not the old crone who tends to the insane?" Jannes asked, stroking his beard curiously. Stepping forward, he looked up and down, taking in Constance's attire. "I'm fairly certain that you're the one. You know Ezekiel, don't you? If you are indeed involved, I can reassure you, we shall ensure that this girl doesn't end in with him... it was unfortunate his behaviour caused him to be deemed as a public menace."

Lars too had recognised Constance, he'd definitely caught a glimpse of her during the wedding. Pushing his way past the mages, he joined Constance and Jannes. "Finally, someone who isn't some random egghead. You been visiting Emily too?" he asked, visibly relieved to see someone backing her corner. "I know there was that Sir Alain guy coming to her too, you seen him about?"

Alain's timing was wonderful, it was almost as Belial had timed his entry for him.
 

Healing Touch

"You always meet with such strange people, Serge. No wonder you were such good friends with Angus." Nona mused, brushing her hair from in front of her eyes. "Let me lend you a hand, I'm rather swift with removing armour... it's a helpful talent to have when the need arises."

She gave a playful smile, helping Serge unbuckle the rider's helmet. Brilliant white hair blossomed from the helmet as Serge took it off, the perfect locks falling gently to the rider's shoulders. Their face was pale, their lips a ruby red, there was a serene and peaceful beauty to it all. "The midnight... sea..." Accolon groaned, their voice far less impossing and masculine than with the helmet on. Nona smiled, looking at Serge as she raised her staff to start her work.

"Maybe you should add this one to your entourage? You seem to have a liking for the pretty ones." she teased, the gentle glow of her staff bathing Accolon in light.
 

Crying to for help... and Esclabor

Eric was met with strange glances as he wandered the street, many of the mutterings about another guest for the asylum. The guards were very much alert, keeping an eye on him as he continued on. He hadn't been deemed a threat for the moment, but nobody was leaping at the opportunity to aid him. Mothers ushered their children away, the elderly turned their backs to Eric's cries. However, there appeared to be one man who at least decided to respond. He was a rather svelte man, with long green hair and a bandage around his head. Finely dressed, the chances were that he was somewhat wealthy. Along with him was what could only be referred to as a badger of a man in a suit - a gormless bearded man who contrasted the other.

"Shagsworth, we're stopping for a moment." Esclabor commanded, Shaggy pausing immediately. He approached Eric, looking at his coat with contempt. "Deira... either you're little lost or you really in trouble. Stop shouting like a lunatic and speak, you fool. I've dealt with enough nut-jobs this week, I don't have the patience for another."

Link to comment
Share on other sites

"Ooh, now isn't this place just lovely? I knew we would be well off to like somewhere quiet" Sidney giggled as her and Owen entered the shop, giving a small wave to Morta and Ceirch. "You've never seen oatmeal, Morta? It's not my favorite, I think it's a little bland to have too often, but it's not so bad that I'd compare it to Kearney." She approached the counter, smiling at the old man who seemed strangely familiar; maybe she had been here as a child and not remembered. "Good morning! Hmm, I think me and Owen would like to know what's available. Do you have anything sweet or fruity?"

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Constance nodded. "Yes. The name's Constance. I have examined this girl. Her mind seems dull but not deranged. She has not seen the things he has seen. But there is a foul aura about her. But she is not a monster. And you should not treat her as one."

Link to comment
Share on other sites

"Someone ought to lock up the crone with her patients. Raewald will be a safer place for it, I guarantee. You know what they say and people and the company they keep," Alain scoffed. "Honestly, I'm not quite sure who keeps letting the Madam in here, but I should get that cleared with the guards soon," he muttered, making his way closer to the gathering. 

"Jannes is a good man, so you shouldn't worry too much Lars," he said. "She'll be taken care of properly. I wont allow anything less. And I'm sure Jannes here will agree to that, isn't that right, Principal?" he said, looking to the old man. "In any case, it's better than bringing her along for a trek across the continent. She'll be comfortable among her peers, I hope. Perhaps Morganna will turn up as well to finally see her friend," he mused. 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Haunting Illusions

Spoiler

Early afternoon of April 18th

It was with slight reluctance that Claire returned to the mage guild, with most of her affairs in the city now sorted. The elderly witch wasn't the best company, but her knowledge was necessary, and so Claire would put up with it. Her walk to the guild was significantly faster the second time around, and fortunately Constance was waiting in the same are as Claire had met her two days prior.

"Good afternoon. Are you free to teach me to today?" She was straight down to business. They'd never arranged an exact date or time for their meeting, but Constance didn't seem to be especially busy. The sooner they could start this up, the better. It was difficult to say when their party would be on the move again, so Claire wanted to get as much practice in as she could while they still had the chance.

Constance smiled. "Claire. What a pleasant surprise. Have a seat." Straight to the point hmm. I will need to ensure she's not too power hungry. I don't want to make that mistake again. Still, she did turn now my offer to teach her about Belial which is a good sign.

Constance moved the candelabra in the center of the table so that it lay between the two of them. It was still many hours until it needed to be lit. "First off, there's no dedicated tome used for Illusion magic. At least that I know of. Most people that do use it do so for the purpose of sleight of hand, trickery, distraction. That sort of thing. Not really something you want advertised. So, show me what you can do without a tome. Light this candle."

It wasn't exactly a real answer, but Claire took Constance's lack of refusal as a 'yes'. Seating herself opposite of Constance, the young mage listened quietly to what they had to say. If only Malaphar was simply a petty thief. She held back a sigh, waiting for Constance to finish speaking before conjuring a small fire.

"We were taught this at the college, along with a couple of other basic spells. Nothing particularly useful; just for lighting candles and creating cool breezes, at best." Claire wondered for a moment if Constance had one day attended the college too in her younger years, she supposed that it meant little. What mattered was that the candle was lit, and the rest of the lesson that followed.

"Ah" Constance said pleasantly surprised. "I didn't expect you to do it so easy. Some of the most skilled mages I know can struggle with tomeless magic. Now I assume, since you're interested, you already know the fundamentals of what illusion magic is? It's all to do with giving the appearance of form without actually creating new form. At least on our level. Any illusion I cast would break away if you prodded it enough. However Malaphar seems to literally be able to create new matter. Even when we create fire or wind it's not the same thing. We just manipulate the  substance that's there. We focus heat which makes fire, he can just make fire even without heat, or create wind without air, if you can imagine such things. Do you follow me so far?"

Constance gestured towards one of the other candles on the stand. "This time try setting the candle alight again, except instead of focusing on creating fire, try and create the appearance of fire."

"Mmm..." Claire supposed that it was just a construct of teaching techniques between generations, but at the same time she felt as though the other mages Constance knew couldn't have been that impressive. Or perhaps they just never had a reason to show her what they could do. It wasn't out of the question.

Still, what Constance told her made sense (at least in a theoretical sense), and she responded with a small nod. She extinguished her previous flame without the use of magic, and then paused. A fire that isn't hot... or is the heat simply not relevant? But everything he created felt so real... It was difficult to visualise, and Constance could barely make out a quiet "Hmm..." over the general murmur of the crowd around them.

Claire shut her eyes, trying to push all other topics out of her thoughts. She could picture the flame clearly, flickering in the darkness, but it was too large for what she had in mind. And surely, smaller would be easier, right? So she sculpted tiny fire in her mind, squashing it down to size to little more than a glimmer. 

Will this work? It was worth a try, at least. Extending her palm towards the candle once again, Claire tried to keep the image clearly in her mind, and cast... something.

A flame appeared on the candlestick. "Hmm." Constance reached out and touched it. She shook her head as the fire was extinguished. "No. That was a real flame. You're thinking too much about real fire rather than the image of fire. Think of a painting of a fire. It's not hot like a flame but your mind still sees it as one. Trying to make it an unnatural colour might help too."

"Urgh..." Claire frowned as she rested her head on her palm. She'd just created the real thing; just a smaller and more pathetic version of it. Constance's advice did, however, did make one point clear to her. Deceive the eyes, not the mind. Had she been moving too quickly, trying to sculpt a perfect image of the flame? 

There was only one way to find out. Claire kept those concepts in mind as she made another attempt. This time, she imagined that flame standing unnnaturally still, and coloured a deep black, not dissimilar from her own hair. It was a far cry from what she'd created before. 

"Let's see, then." After those brief words of self-encouragement, the young mage turned her attention back towards the candlestick. Extending her arm once again, Claire was feeling a little more confident this time around. It was just a matter of how it turned out...

Claire concentrated but again a real flame appeared. Once more Constance extinguished it. "A full illusion takes a lot of concentration to maintain" Constance said. "But when trying to get the knack for it, sometimes being distracted can help. So let's talk as you practise. Tell me, what do you know of a man called Emmet?"

I guess this is going to take some serious practice, then... Perhaps that should've been expected, really. These classes were only offered to high achieving students at the academy, and even if she was older and more experienced now that didn't mean learning an entirely new branch of magic would come quickly. That was what she told herself, anyway, instead of making more frustrated noises.

The mention of Emmet, however, made her raise an eyebrow. "He was a minor noble from Raewald, apparently at the very bottom of the barrel. ...He's dead now." Claire paused. "Are you a family member?" She wasn't quite sure how to tread around Constance. Claire certainly had words for Emmet, but if speaking them meant that she would risk her lessons, then the mage would have to hold her tongue.

"Humph. I expected more of a reaction from you. I guess you didn't know. He's one of Malaphar's underlings. And very much alive from what I can gather."

If Constance was disappointed in Claire's calm response, this new piece of information led to anything but. At first, she simply shook her head, being unsure if she'd heard correctly. "No. No, that doesn't make any sense." This was ridiculous. "The man was executed a week ago, and he traveled with us since we were in Wyke. He was beheaded - there's no way that he could have survived something like that." 

"Why do you think that?" Claire was absolutely baffled, shooting a curious look at Constance as she tried to work out what she was thinking. Was this some kind of strange test? But how did she know about Emmet in the first place? Claire's gaze was fixed on the elderly mage, desperate for her explanation. 

"Belial showed me" Constance said casually. "A gift perhaps. Or maybe a taunt. But regardless, I saw Malaphar talking to a man he identified as Emmet. They talked about how disappointed they were prince Owen did not elect to join them. They compared him to Oswald if I recall correctly."

"He showed you...?" Claire couldn't really understand what Constance meant by that, but was she really the type to play around with these things? The younger mage relaxed back into her seat, all thoughts of illusion magic driven from her head now. If what Constance was telling her was true, there was only one way this could have come about. 

She sighed. "Have you ever heard of the Fountain of Ages?" Malaphar, according to Emmet himself, had acquired a vial of his own. To think that it could reattach a severed head was horrifying, but it was the logical conclusion to take.

"Of course, any healer as experienced as me is bound to of" Constance said. "Can't waste your time chasing legends like that though. Real world and practical matters exist. Why do you ask? You think maybe this fountain could be the source of Malaphar's power?"

Good. That saves time, then. "It might be. It's definitely real, though. Malaphar had a vial of it, which he seems to have used on Emmet. I had one as well, so I can confirm it definitely works, at least to some extent. I'm not so sure about the side effects yet." She kept the details vague, not wanting to get Emily any more involved. 

"If your vision is to be believed, then that's another problem added to our plate." Claire sighed. "What exactly did you see? Was it from Malaphar's perspective, or were you looking down at them?" She wanted to gather as much information as she could, before making any rash judgments. Whatever the answer, though, things weren't looking good.

"Visions from Belial are hard to explain" Constance told her. "You see...something but it's vague. It's more about what you feel. I see a silhouette of a man. Murky and dark. But I feel the aura of Malaphar. Emmet's aura was not as familiar to me but I could hear them talking. The vision came to an end when Malaphar referred to him by name. Truth be told there wasn't really all that much useful information. All Belial wanted to tell me was that this man known as Emmet lives in spite of a beheading. What do you mean you had a vial? Where did it go?"

"That's, um, not what I expected. Huh..." Claire paused, eyeing Constance carefully. Was this some regular thing for Belial? It didn't sound like it, but then what was his purpose? The knowledge meant nothing to Constance on her own, so did he have plans to make her join their party? Or was Claire just ovethinking this?

Eventually, the quiet gave way to a small grunt.She would have to take the leap of faith, and deal with any problems as they came. "There isn't any left. We had to use it on the way here, shortly before Emmet died. ...Actually, it was why he had to be killed in the first place. He was obsessed with it, and tried to turn on us for a fleeting chance of acquiring another one." Claire grimaced. It was scary to think that the twins could tempt one of their own so easily. 

Hmm. I can guess who she used it on Constance thought to herself. Though I better not say anything. It will only lead to uncomfortable questions that may put Alain at risk. Very little of what Claire told her was new information, but she was interested in confirming the truth of what her fellow worshiper had told her.

Constance leaned forward in her chair. "Youths can be so foolish. All that wishing to live forever. When you get to my age life can become tiresome. A  good death is the best we can hope for." Though perhaps it's hypocritical for me to comment. I've outright cheated death for this long. Constance motioned to the candle. "Look. I think you've done it." She held her hand over the flame. "See, all this talking distracted you long enough to forget that fire burns."

Constance's know-it-all attitude made Claire frown, almost crossing her arms before she realised that she was still trying to create the illusion. "I don't expect you to understand it." There was a difference between seeking eternal life and not wanting to die young, but Constance appeared to be far too jaded to understand that now.

Still, it appeared their lesson had been a success. The younger mage prodded carefully at the flame, causing it to vanish suddenly. "It's a step forward." she nodded, speaking more for her own sake than Constance's. Not to be discorteuous, but Claire would really prefer to be gone before they got into an argument about that. "Is there any more to this? I think I need to go away and practice, before we go any further." 

"Yes. That's the basics of it. There's a bit more on the theory of where the illusion comes from but most don't even bother with that. For practical use it's just a matter of honing the ability and getting the feel for it." Constance paused for a second. "What do you mean you don't expect me to understand? Do you share this Emmet's obsession with living forever?"

Claire stood up, satisfied with that response. "That's not it, but you don't seem to value living in generally very highly, by the sound of things. Emmet was willing to step on every relationship he'd made since we'd met him in order to chase after a chance at a life like that - regardless of consequences. I'm not that stupid." Well-intentioned mistakes were one thing, but what the Dun had done... that was a totally different matter.

Constance grew quite. She looked away from Claire. "You misunderstood what I said" she muttered. "I likely value life more than any individual you have ever met. It's why I became a healer. But we will all die some day. Even immortals won't escape that fact. It's something we all must accept before the time comes." Her mood changed but she still seemed distracted. "Keep practicing. You'll get it eventually. If you can excuse me, there's a book I must get back to."

Constance's answer was perplexing. It seemed contradictory to her demeanour, yet there was honest feeling about it. Perhaps it explained some of her past actions, as well. Regardless, it had left Claire in a rather stunned silence for a few moments, until the elder shooed her away.

 

"Until next time, then." Claire muttered back, quietly making her exit. In spite of her first impression, there was certainly more to the elderly mage than what meets the eye.

 

Constance pretended to read until Claire was out of sight. When she was sure the younger mage was gone, she sighed and closed the book. You spent too long in that cave Connie. The people in the real world aren't coming to you bleeding and desperate. She looked at her own distorted reflection on the candelabra. You're not their miracle worker here. Just another grouchy old woman causing trouble.

 

"Ah" Constance said, realising Alain's presence. "It's good to see you up and about Sir Alain. I came here looking for you. I wish to apologise for that mishap the other day. You were injured due to my carelessness. I can assure you it wasn't my intention. I sought only to dispel the situation, but instead I only made things worse." She bowed to the mage. "I beg your forgiveness."

Link to comment
Share on other sites

"I'll consider hiring when I know who they are and what they want. Being pretty has nothing to do with it." He said, plainly. There was no visible reaction on Serge's face when the helmet was removed, though he certainly didn't expect what he saw. The other person, the one in the golden coat, had called them a 'he', but Serge wasn't entirely sure that was right. Of course, he wasn't really one to judge, his ponytail not exactly being the most masculine of hairstyles. But it wasn't just the hair; their entire face seemed feminine, almost...angelic.

"...Hey. You feeling any better?" He asked, after a long moment of silence, letting Nona's healing staff do it's work. "Can you speak? Can you tell us who you are? Why you're here?" It didn't feel great to be the guy interrogating someone with so many injuries, but now had to be a better time than when they could fight back. After all, he wasn't going to completely write off the possibility that this person might start attacking.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Eric ran down the street, calling for aid. Yet, for some reason, no one was responding. Reacting, sure. But not in the way he wanted. Everyone was turning away, with contemptual gazes and hushed voices. How could they? Eric stopped in his tracks. "Please! Anybody! There is a person over there! Dying! And you're all just gonna let it happen?! What the hell is wrong with-"

Eric was cut off with the name of his birth country. Which would make the second time in under five minutes, Eric noted. He turned around to see a rich-looking man and a much scruffier-looking one. The rich-looking one continued to speak. He didn't like the disdain in the man's voice, but at least he was-Fool? Lunatic?! Why you pompous little-Eric cut off his own train of thought. Mouthing off to higher-ranking people was part of what got him here in the first place. He wasn't about to dig himself an even deeper hole. So instead, he responded as unoffensively as he could.

"I myself am not in any real trouble...uh..." Eric paused briefly. He didn't know the proper way to address this man. Ugh. Just wing it. "...you...but my friend is. We landed over that way,"-At this, Eric, without looking, pointed in the direction from which he'd run-"And...it's bad. I don't know what's hurt. But if I don't get someone to help...I don't think Accolon's gonna make it. Now, please, if you don't know how to aid wounds, can you help me find someone who can?"

The entire time he spoke, Eric's eyes darted from place to place. They generally came back to his feet, and not once did he actually look this man in the eye. It was an old habit. Eye contact had always been...awkward.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

"Hmm. If you're both sure, then." Freya felt as if she might be interrupting with how on Cassandra responded about her question, but at least Claire seemed fine with the arrangement. The princess seemed to have even more surprises ready, though. "When did you start using swords, Princess? Isn't it rather ambitious to do that alongside learning magic from Lady Claire?" Having not been at Dettard's manse, the exact nature of the sword was beyond her, but it was still a curious situation. She had her own weapons ready, as usual, but she'd brought a new one that seemed especially deadly when she'd practiced with it- that would be for the criminal if it came down to it. In that sense, the princess arming herself just in cast wasn't out of place, but it did feel a bit unusual.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

"This? I've been practicing off and on with Owen since Magonsaete. He says that I have a good handle of things... And I've learned enough of his style to mesh it with my own. I won't be flailing it around aimlessly, to say the least, if it becomes necessary to use... And it makes me feel safe. That's all." The reminder of family was a strong one, for Cass.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

"I see... if you're confident, then. In all likeliness, it won't come to that right now, anyway." Despite saying that, Freya had some reservations, considering how often trouble came upon them, but if it did, they would be prepared. This was only one man, and her most recent combat outings had her enduring hits from about twenty between the church and hideout. "Are you all set to go as well then, Lady Claire?"

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Claire dipped back into the room quickly as the other pair talked, making sure that Razorwind was ready just in case. It was unlikely, but she didn't want to take any chances. They all seemed to be in the same state of mind as she returned to the doorway. "Mmhmm. I'm ready to go." Surely they wouldn't have to travel too far to find something nice to eat.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Royal Rescue

Spoiler

The pursuit through the city had drawn the attention of the guards, although Owen's kidnappers had used their knowledge of the back alleys to keep the heat off of them. Sidney and the struggling Decima were gradually closing the gap, The chase had taken them to the edge of the city, the great stone wall the only thing separating them from the surrounding villages. The pair were just able to catch the thugs lugging the captured Owen into one of the houses lining the wall. It was no surprise that they were in the dodgy part of town - not all of the peasants appeared to have attacked the wedding for moral reasons. Dark and shabby, the kidnapper's den appeared almost derelict - no decent individual would be caught dead entering it willingly.

Decima raised her hand, trying to catch her breath as the pair came to a halt. "Charlotte... let me get... my breath back, not everyone... can run like you." she panted, her red dress torn from the chase. "Do you have a plan? You're fast... but what if there's a whole bunch of them in there? I don't have any real weapons on me, you're not going to use those hairbands are you?"

Freya and, oddly enough, Vesta had stumbled their way out of an alley, emerging not too far from Sidney and Decima. Whether it had been skillful navigation or blind chance was anyone's guess, but having four people against an unknown force was far more appealing than just the two.

"Never thought that something like this would be my first job." Vesta remarked, noticeably less winded than Decima. "Do you nobles get kidnapped a lot? I remember hearing a story from one of the other mercenaries about it."

Sidney snarled as Decima needed to slow down, even though she raised a fair point. "They can't go anywhere from here, can they? We could get the guards, but if they decide they don't want to go anywhere and hurt him, we can't waste any time at all." She glanced at her waist again, this time drawing her dagger to show to the pegasus knight, glimmering red in the shade. "I'm never completely unarmed... if I have to use this, I will! I don't like hurting people, but it's a last resort if I must to save him."

Suddenly, two more people were near them, but they were friendly faces. Well, at least Freya was- she didn't recognize the other woman, but she spoke familiar enough that it was a safe assumption. Other mercenaries, she said... probably a new recruit. "How'd you guys get here so fast? Well, whatever, we need the help... I don't know what to do. If we rush, they could collapse on us, but if we wait too long, it could be awful."

Freya walked towards the door, examining the place where Owen was presumably held. "Seems the changes I made to my armor have paid off already," she remarked, thinking on Sidney's words. "You're not thinking of going in first, are you? If there are even two of them there, they'd probably just beat you down, and that'd do us no good at all. How many are there, anyway? If they don't have things that are a lot better than shovels and boards, they'll never get past me. I'll take the point." She looked at the mop she had rather sheepishly, but then thought on it more. "You shouldn't make it obvious that you're well-armed. If they see us running in like this, they might underestimate us, and not put Prince Owen in any immediate danger."

The guard looked at the other two after. "No, despite this happening to the Princess about a month ago, this is certainly an anomaly. That was the occasion I was assigned to her in the first place because of. Maybe we'll get some convenient assistance due to this similar scenario..." Obviously it was very hopeful, but a fifth person would certainly still be appreciated.

Decima was surprised at their sudden company, as well as Freya's bravado. Was she really going to just run in there and beat them all up with a mop? Freya looked like the kind who could hold herself in a fight, but was she really that strong? "My sister said that you were good at fighting... but there could be dozens of them." Decima replied, almost imagining the unruly mob inside. A mop and a dagger didn't really fill her with confidence. "I suppose I could try and make a few sparks, it's not much but it might spook them a little."

Vesta listened calmly as the three discussed their plans, taking particularly interest in Freya's story about Cass. "Sounds like you guys attract trouble." she laughed, looking at her hand and counting her fingers as she began to mutter to herself. "You could always make them think that you're one of the city guards... could always say that you've got people coming to back you up."

"I'm inclined to agree," Freya mumbled unhappily. "But, maybe you're right that charging in isn't the best plan... still, if we do march in, that would probably be the way to do it. None of us know how many people there actually are in there? The unknown number makes this harder." Vesta proposed an interesting suggestion. "Do you think that would work? If they have a way of seeing us, it falls through. If we say they might be a while, it could work, but if they wait it out... maybe someone could actually talk to the guards to direct them here?"

Sidney listened to the plans of the other three women anxiously, but did put her dagger away for the time being. "I'm just scared of what they want... Owen wasn't the one getting married, they just took him and ran! I don't trust these kind of people. What if they don't listen to our threats? Maybe they just want money or something like that. I could run to my father and ask for some..." She just shook her head, trying to maintain a sense of calm to handle the situation better.

"We've got to do something though, poor Prince Owen..." Decima replied, torn between their multiple plans. All of them seemed to have their merits and flaws, but she couldn't quite commit to any of them. Morta would have probably decided to rush in and try to fight everyone and Nona would have some way to talk her way out of it... but there she was hiding and waiting for other people to make the choices for her. She sunk back a bit, hoping one of the others would have some sort of master plan.

"I could go grab the guards, it's not like I've got anything I can fight with, " Vesta pitched in, looking at the battered house. There was a boarded up window on the first floor, and a broken one adjacent to it. She looked over at Sidney, using her fingers to judge the thief's height. "How are you at climbing? If our armoured friend here makes some noise at the front, it'll give you a chance to sneak in and get them from behind. If you're lucky, they'll have the Prince upstairs. If you're not, we'll at least know he's downstairs."

"Mm. If we wait, we don't know what could happen." Sidney seemed surprised by Vesta's questions. "Climbing? Well, I'm plenty nimble... my climbing is good enough. I think I could do it." I have to do it. "But, we would need a pretty good distraction, then. Freya, if you're confident, then... I can try it. I think getting the guards is important, too. We need to be able to back up what we say."

She moved herself towards the broken window, looking at the way she'd need to climb in order to reach there. If I can get a footing here... I've taken some strange routes into home before. It should work.

"A distraction? I can do that. I'll talk to them about the city guards coming, and I bet I can do a decent impression myself." She waited a few moments for people to get into position, then knocked at the entry to the house. "Halt!" she spoke. "There are city guards who will be convening on your location." Not claiming she was one made her feel more confident, and she spoke in the most authoritative voice she could manage. "Kidnapping a foreign prince is a serious offense. If you release him at once, your punishment will be less severe." That, too, was probably true- she could only imagine the fury of Sidney in the case that he was harmed. She gestured for the noblewoman to get going while she had an opportunity, watching her being to scale the building only briefly before returning focus to the door.

Vesta nodded, giving Freya a thumbs up. "Sounds spot on to me," she chuckled, hurrying back towards the main street. Decima stood underneath the window, ready to give Sidney a hand in getting up to it. She couldn't quite believe what she was taking part in, but she needed to help. She wasn't just a faceless wallflower, she was as much a part of the group as either of his sisters. "I'm ready, Charlotte. Good luck." she said firmly, doing her best to stop her knees from shaking.

"The guards? We got nothings like that in here! We're just a group of... pants salesman. Nothing but pants here." one of the goons called out nervously. "Yep, you don't needs to come in here, it's a terrible mess, pants everywhere! We can get yer a pair if yer want!"

Sidney quelled her nerves as she used Decima's assistance to start the ascent, momentarily thankful that she'd chosen one of her dresses more suitable for movement. Something more quiet to not draw attention from the wedding... this is not exactly what I expected to do wearing it, but I suppose it worked. As she climbed, she more easily noticed little imperfections in the building that she hadn't seen from below, but ones she could make use of to climb the side of the building. She was surprised as she went further up at how easy it was. I guess it makes sense... the travels we've been through have made me even quicker than I used to be.

Soon enough she had her hand at the height of the window, which proved to the first real difficulty- bloodying her hand on the glass would do no good. She took a few moments to find a handhold, in this case an area where there was no more glass at all, then with a deep breath, pulled herself through the window, landing on both feet and her other hand, and managing to avoid breaking anything.

Freya huffed at the explanation, evidently not impressed. "Pants salesmen? How interesting. However, I think it's an important detail on where you got the pants, and why you needed to bring a person along to sell them." She took a few moments to carefully consider what she said next. "If I were you, I'd hand over the man along with the pants. The guards have been busy lately, seeing as there's rumors a dangerous criminal returned to the city, so they've been more alert. I consider myself a patient woman, but I'm not so sure that I can say the same of the entirety of the guard. Maybe you'll get lucky, and there will be a group full of those as understanding as me who come to visit here."

She paused a bit to try and juxtapose that with what she had to say next. "But... if you're not so lucky... well, you might find yourself with some upset men who don't want to spend too much time on the case of a group of illicit pants salesmen. Some of them have really awful tempers. And as kind as I try to be, I admit, when I'm pushed too far I can be quite furious. But, I'll humor you for now- I won't open the door, I'll wait for someone else to. But unless you have something else that could be important to tell me, and really convince me nobody is here, then it won't be too long before you'll have to try those odds- and a more impatient man might use a big axe to chop the door right off its hinges. It might just happen- I really couldn't say."

There was a lot of muttering and the heavy moving sounds from in the house, the cacophony of panicked thugs echoing inside. "We got pants of all sizes, big and small... we can gets some samples for yer ready if yer like... just give us a moment or two." the thugs replied, unlocking the door slowly. Decima did her best to hide herself from view, the last thing Freya needed was for her cover story to be blown.

The front door opened very slightly, a rather rough and ready bald man's face poking out from the gap. The man smiled, revealing a mouth devoid of any teeth. "One moment, we're uh... just getting the good stuff ready." he added, looking at Freya cautiously. "We don't know anythings about a man, but yer can come in if yer like."

Meanwhile, Sidney had made a flawless entry into the house, landing on the floorboards stealthily. Two shovel wielding men had their backs to her, looking at a mass of cloth on top of a bed. "Looks like the fuzz are here, we should probably hide him before they sees him." one remarked, shaking his head. "Make sure he don't got any access to weapons, swords, hammers... pants, yer saw that weird thing he did at the church."

Freya grit her teeth, crossing her arms as she came into view of the doorman. This is absurd... "There are multiple reports that a young man was captured and brought here. I'll be the judge of if there's nobody here or not." But she had no intentions of being ambushed with only a mop to defend herself. She snapped off the end of the cleaning tool before she made her way through the door, examining the room, but staying near the door in case retreat was necessary. "You'll need to prove to me well beyond a doubt that there's really nobody here and that the reports were inaccurate, or else a larger scale investigation will have to be carried out. We aren't going to ignore a man being kidnapped at a wedding. Am I understood?" From what she saw, they were at least smart enough to not keep him down here, but beyond that, they were not very good liars. "Where are these pants? It would certainly draw suspicion for them to be similar to those that were seen on the missing man in question..."

Sidney stood up slowly, briefly proud of how smooth her entry was, but immediately focusing once she saw the cloth and listened to the words one of the men said. Owen! Slowly, she snuck up behind the one who spoke, readying the Zodiac Claw while keeping her breathing steady. But, she didn't make her move just yet- they didn't seem to recognize her presence before, and maybe they would give away more info if given just a bit of time- or if they were about to hurt him, she'd be in position to stop that. Besides, speaking up when there was plenty of noise downstairs was probably dangerous.

The bald man was caught off guard, although he seemed more than happy to let Freya in. The house was in a dire state, floor boards were broken, the walls were dirty and there was something that could only be referred to as a green fuzz in the corner of the room. However, as Freya had astutely pointed out, there wasn't a pair of pants to be seen. There were perhaps a dozen men in total, dirty and grubby, all of them wearing their best guilty smiles. "The pants? We uh... just ran out of stock, we can get a fresh batch for you from the closet." the bald man replied, gesturing to a rather flimsy looking door adjacent to them. "You can look straight in there, nothing to hide here."

As Sidney drew closer, the men continued to idly watch the flaccid pile of cloth. "Good thing we had those religious nut-jobs attacking that wedding, woulda been hard to snatch someone important otherwise." the other replied, nearly turning to face Sidney but being drawn back to the bed swiftly. "Figure we could probably get some dosh for selling him to Deira, then we can live the good life for the rest of our days." 

Sell him to Deira?! "Don't you dare," Sidney whispered, moving her arm to press her knife against the man she was behind's neck. "Speak other than what I tell you or harm Owen, and the rest of your days will be very, very limited... I have some very definite instructions to give you. Nod if you understand what I'm saying. Are we clear?" She pointed to the other man. "There's a guard downstairs, a woman, not pleased about this either. Tell someone with you to let her upstairs. I'd advise against trying to hurt her, you wouldn't like her when she's angry."

"You ran out of stock? But you were just telling me about the wide variety you had on hand. Isn't that very unusual?" She gave a cursory look to the door before shaking her head. "That won't do. You open it, then I'll take a look inside. My armor makes me look bigger, but I'm actually fairly medium, and I like blue. Something like that."

Another wrinkle in the pretend investigation popped up when she heard murmurs upstairs. "What was that? I didn't know there were two stories here. Is there anything else I should be knowing about this place?"

"Yeah, funny that... just straight up run out." the bald man muttered darkly, his eyes darting across to his allies in the room. He almost appeared to be waiting for something, slowly approaching the door as he peered over his shoulder. "Maybe we should just skip the pants... yer won't be needing them after this. Boys, show our guest that we ain't exactly good at customer service."

The goons gathered around Freya, brandishing a wide array of makeshift weaponry. "We'll make sure yer grave is a medium, boys, show 'er that we mean business!" the bald man cried out, pointing at Freya as the mob swarmed her. Planks, clubs and what appeared to be a sack of stones tied to a stick, the weapons clanked against Freya's armour... although none of it seemed even remotely effective. Every strike simply bounced off from her, if it even connected. The peasants' only saving grace was their advantage in numbers, and even then it only meant Freya was somewhat inconvenienced in her passage forwards.

"She's a monster... maybe she's the big guard's sister!" a partially repulsive mobster cried out, trying to stab at Freya's shoulder with a particularly long fork. "Boss, we ain't doing nothing!"

Meanwhile, Sidney had made herself known to the two men, the one she'd ambushed dropping his weapon and holding up his hands. "Ain't gonna dare, I like my noggin where it is, miss." he yelped, his rodent-like face scrunching into a miserable frown. There was a lot of noise coming from downstairs, the sound of metal against metal and the yelling of men. "Yous probably want to be avoiding downstairs, miss. Sounds like an awful fight going on."

"Ha! I hope you're not so foolish, you'll be in no shape to do any sort of digging when I'm through with you!" And yet they attacked, in spite of her armor- but it was so ineffective that Freya almost felt bad to use the pointed stick when a mop would've done just fine. Amongst the clatter of useless weaponry clanging against her armor, she made another modification, snapping off the point of the stick so that it was dull again- then, she started hitting back.

It was almost disappointing. Each of them tried at her, none of them leaving so much as a dent, even after she'd had her armor modified to be less bulky. But she kept swinging the mop handle, slowly but surely bruising those around her while she laughed off their attempts. "Weaklings, all of you! I am Freya- remember the name well, the one who defeated you all with such ease." She wasn't quite done, but declaring her victory didn't seem pre-emptive. Maybe the rest of them would back off already.

Perhaps she could get the head reattached after. It would be a waste of a perfectly good mop since she didn't have to resort to the pointed version, though in a sense she was doing some cleaning. It would just be a shorter mop after.

"Well. That's good, then." Sidney had expected more of a struggle, but instead that seemed to be breaking out downstairs. This complicates things again... Still, that the fighting seemed to continue was likely a good sign, and she'd seen how pathetic the attempts at battling Freya were for herself in the church- despite all odds, the man's advice was probably correct. "Okay, so... you there." She pointed at the other man again. "Is he covered by the cloth? Unravel it, but do no more than that. I want to see that he's safe."

Freya's counterattacks were making quick work of the thugs, it didn't take more than a hit or two to fell a single man, only panicking the rest as they succumbed to the guard. The bald man let out a cry of despair, scrambling back to the cupboard. "Don't aim for her body, aim for her face! She ain't got armour on her eyeballs, you daft bunch of clot heads!" he barked, the remaining few goons realising the errors of their ways. "Maybe the pants sellin' story wasn't the best, but at least I didn't get myself beaten up for it!"

One of the goons had circled around to behind Freya, stealthily ready to smash a brick over her head. His plan would have been promising if it hadn't been for a loud bang behind him. Jumping as he turned around quick, Decima had stepped through the door, using whatever magic she could have as a distraction. "You little..." he barked, turning from Freya and hurling himself at Decima. 

Decima let out a panicked cry, shielding herself with her arms as a bright flash enveloped her hands. The man cried out in pain, covering his eyes as he stumbled around helplessly. "My eyes! This is worse than the moonshine!" he gasped, tripping over one of his fallen allies. That only left the bald man, who had lost his entire bravado as he hid himself in the cupboard.

Upstairs, the other man nodded slowly, removing the top cloth from on top of the bed. Owen lay in front of them, his hands and ankles bound with rope, as well as around his waist. "Didn't want him to try fightin' us with his pants again." the goon explained, very aware of Sidney's hold over his ally. "We understands yer, our boss is downstairs, he's callin' the shots. It's gotten awfully quiet... whoever yer friend was... she's either been beaten up, or she's someone I don't want to be fightin'."

Freya felt slightly more threatened when the leader mentioned her vulnerability to head wounds, but she was able to dispatch most of the threats before that would be a real issue. Behind her, she was startled by a shouting man, catching a glimpse of Decima's magic as the thug fell to the ground. "Lady Decima, thank you... you certainly spared me a lot of pain."

That just left one man, and there weren't exactly many places for him to hide. She opened the cupboard door forcefully, her hands heading straight for the man's neck. "I didn't buy your story for a second, you idiot! I saw the prince captured for myself, and now you're in much more trouble than if you'd done nothing at all. I'm not even a Raewalden knight, but I'm sure they'll be pleased to apprehend a whole group of criminals at once!" Her anger at a maximum, she gave the bald man a solid right hook, throwing him to the ground after. "You'll all be a lesson to anyone who crosses the prince again!"

"Prince Owen!" Sidney exclaimed. He looked as though he hadn't been hurt any more than what had happened at the church, if a bit worse for the wear from being carried around. She nearly walked right towards him to be sure, but that would be too risky, and instead she stayed where she was for one more order. "Alright. You drop your weapon too..." The distinct shouting of the armored guard beneath them, followed by one more clatter, finally brought a smirk to Sidney's face.

"Ha! Seems you have your answer. Freya, come up here!" she shouted down the stairs, relaxing her grip somewhat. "I doubt you want to deal with her! But, she's not all that bad. If you don't do anything, she won't have to beat you up too. I'm going to free him now, and I think you know better than to interfere." She let go of the man she stood behind, moving instead to sit next to Owen and started cutting away at the ropes binding him, but keeping a close eye on the two men in case they tried anything.

The bald man yelped as Freya took him by the neck, his face turning red as the guard scolded him for his treachery. His eyes darted around the room, his expression becoming more horrified as he realised all his men had been incapacitated. "I'm sorry, miss! I got so greedy bein' all poor and all that! Please don't-..." he begged, falling victim to Freya's mighty fist. Passing out before he hit the floor, Freya had bested the entire crew of thugs.

Decima stepped forward cautiously, stepping over the unconscious goons below her. "Remind me not to get on your bad side." she commented, wincing as she saw the state of the bald man's broken nose. "Sorry I wasn't more help, I would have gotten in the way if I tried fighting.. but you did a really good job! When we get home, maybe I can ask my father to hire you! That's if you want, it's OK if you don't... working for royalty is rather prestigious."

The two men stepped away from Sidney, dropping their weapons and raising their hands. "Sounds like our guys got busted up downstairs. We're smart enough to surrender when it looks bad. Might save us from the chopping block if we're lucky." one replied, getting down on his knees. 

"Hmph! Being poor is no reason for such actions," Freya spoke aloud, though rather uselessly- he was motionless already. I was poor... now I'm fine. She turned to face Decima, nodding at her praise. "Well, thank you. My training paid off, even though I'm not sure it would work against smarter foes. Maybe I should get a helmet... anyway, thanks for saving me. Even if it wasn't that much, you still were helpful, and who knows what would've happen if he succeeded? I'll think about your offer, anyway, though we have to get back there first. This is a lot more glamorous than what I used to do, but I liked being a simple city guard too."

She heard the thief's call from the room above. "Seems like she was successful, too. Let's go meet up with her." There were a lot of stairs for such a rundown place, but she saw Sidney freeing Owen from bindings, and two thugs hiding in the corner. "Do I need to deal with them, too?"

"Fine with me if you don't cause trouble, then. It certainly sounds like you're smarter than whoever else was down there." Sidney smiled as Freya made her way up the stairs, undoing the last of the Prince's restraints. "Not a scratch on you, huh? No, they're fine just sitting here for now. I think we're just about done, anyway, Owen is safe, though probably needing some healing, and we didn't even need to rely on the city guards! Maybe they'll be appreciative of us turning in a whole bunch of criminals and overlook some past deeds... maybe not, but there's always hoping." She put her knife away, picking Owen up and carrying him well enough. "Alright... I think we have a wedding to go back to, don't we? We surely missed a lot, I wonder if they went through with the vows at all."

"We knows when we's been had, miss. Nothing from us." one of the two men replied. with Decima coming up the stairs, they were outnumbered. Not only that, but there was a herd of footsteps from below. The clanking of metal and the ordering of men suggested that the guards had finally arrived. "Get upstairs, make sure that the Prince is unharmed!" barked their commander, his orders quickly accompanied by a flurry of footsteps up the stairs.

A trio of city guards approached Sidney and her group, clad in slate grey armour and holding their spears upright. "It's OK, Captain! Looks like these ladies here beat us to it! Managed to corner the last two." the tallest called down. One of the other two approached Sidney, extending a hand. "Not sure how you people managed to beat a dozen men, but it's a job well done. I take it you're with the Prince? The scruffy lass told us about what happened, you probably want to get him somewhere a little more comfortable than here."

"Hello there," Sidney spoke to the guards, surprised they didn't mention anything about her. About time they got here! "The Prince is my boyfriend. But, to be honest, Freya did pretty much all of the work. I snuck in by climbing just in case we had to rescue him like that, but instead she just beat up most of the thugs, so that was fairly easy. Owen's lucky to have a good guard like her around!" She pat the guard on the shoulder, who she certainly felt very appreciative towards. "But anyway, we can take him from here. You can bring these hooligans in pretty easily, I'd bet they won't be getting up any time soon."

The Prince was safe, and her work here was done. "It was no trouble. Their makeshift weapons were useless against my armor, so I incapacitated them fairly easily." She awkwardly accepted the handshake when it became clear that Sidney was not going to. "We'll be extra certain that nothing else happens from here on out. And thank you for helping us bring these men to justice. It wouldn't do as much good to rescue the prince but have to leave these people here to scheme another day." She at least gave a passing glance at the other two thugs. "These two didn't put up any resistance, they surrendered right away when she breached the window instead of putting up a fight. Perhaps they deserve something of a lighter sentence."

"I'll have to thank you both, there's been reports around the area of a group of pants salesmen acting as a front for all sorts of criminal activity." the guard replied, glancing over at the two surrendered thugs. "The City of Tytila thanks you all for your efforts, with these criminals detained the people shall sleep easy. I shall entrust the Prince to you, we shall handle the rest."

Queen meets Devil

Spoiler

20th April 812

It had been a few days until Alain had been given an appointment with Queen Ethel. The messengers hadn't specified much other than Ethel being rather preoccupied. It was the late afternoon by the time he'd been invited to her study. Asked to wait outside by the guards, Alain only had to wait a few minutes before the queen arrived, dressed in a stylish gown. Smiling, she gestured towards the door, shooing away the guards. "Don't worry, I'm sure that Sir Duhamel will be no trouble at all. He's been ever so helpful in the last few months, I would like to speak with him in comfort." she charmed, watching as the guards departed. "Do come inside, Alain. I hate being bothered by such uptight people. A meeting between people like you and me is much better somewhere comfortable and in private."

Opening the door, Ethel revealed her study, a cosy little room with book shelves lining the walls. With two comfortable armchairs in the middle, Ethel made it clear what their choice in seating would be. "Do take a seat, I'm so tired of people waiting for me to sit down." she mused, gesturing towards the chair. "I find it rather amusing to let someone else sit before I do once in a while... and I want you to be comfortable before we start talking about all the wonderful things you've seen."

"A sentiment we both share, your Majesty," Alain replied, offering the guards a clandestine wink as they passed by. He followed the Queen inside her study and took his seat as instructed. He was noticeably straying from formal etiquette, but in the name of the Queen's amusement there was little else to do but to oblige.

"Only in your company do I find myself so highly exalted,"

...

"Ethel."

A momentary pause washed over the room, and a thin smile began to creep its way onto Alain's lips. "...I would humbly beg for your forgiveness your Majesty," he said, his gaze falling to the floor. "It appears as though I may have gotten somewhat too comfortable in this chair." 

Ethel eyed the document Alain had produced, casually skimming its contents. "I think you're incredibly good at humouring me, always with the right words to say... perhaps divine powers provide you a script to read from too?" she mused, "I was curious if anyone would come across it and take interest... anyone able would be able to offer me a source of power to crush Deira with. You, Alain, may have provided not only a key ally in the form of Prince Owen, but a dark power that can finally dim the light that blinds Deira. We can cripple Olaf's ambition, and help reform a nation that would dare not strike another for the rest of its existence."

Smiling and nodding her head agreeable, she sat back in her seat. "I'll sign whatever you wish, you're an asset to me that deserves to be rewarded as such. I have a few nobles who need replacing, and you've made yourself a prime candidate to replace them. With new power and influence, you'll be able to help me correct how the public view people like yourself. Whatever gods people pray to doesn't bother me, all I desire is for a sensible society that understands that results are better when everyone is able to contribute their talents." she added, idly looking at her hands. "Of course, you'll be rewarded financially too, and I'm more than happy to overlook your... borrowing of the book."

"A script? Hardly my Queen," he said, pleasantly amused. If Belial deigned to give him life's script, he imagined observing him wouldn't be nearly as interesting as the demon made it out to be. 

"Your Majesty should remember better than most, the state I was in as a boy all those years ago. I've simply been practicing diligently ever since then," he added. 

Compliments aside, it was striking to him that the person with the most lavish means of extravagance would prove to be the most willing to deal in pragmatism. It wasn't the first time Ethel had displayed herself as such, but it still amazed him all the same. 

He had settled for simply fading into obscurity after the war was over, content to practice his magic in the quieter corners of the college. But power and influence didn't seem that bad either. Perhaps then he'd be able to repay the debt he owed his family. And lording over some of his more self-aggrandizing companions would prove a great source of entertainment as well. 

With renewed vigor, he rose from his chair, offering the Queen a sincere bow of gratitude, and an oath of loyalty. "You spoil me beyond measure, Queen Ethel. If you would find me vital to your cause, I will henceforth work in earnest to see your vision come to light," he stated. 

But he was getting ahead of himself. 

In a moment of clarity, his jubilant expression dimmed to something more somber. "Forgive me for taking your time your Majesty, but there is one other troubling matter I wished to personally discuss with you," he said.

All the talk of the war, King Olaf, and all the rest mattered little in the face of their most palpable ordeal. 

"I would ask if you know anything about a man who goes by the name of Malaphar."

"I remember the people who are useful to me, it's much better to offer a carrot rather than a stick. Those who do well deserve a particularly large carrot." Ethel replied, amused by Alain's agreement and promises of servitude. "Sometimes the best of us come from humble backgrounds, you've done far more for me than many of my blue blooded nobles. You've had to work for every scrap you obtained. On the other hand, they've had everything fall into the laps. Perhaps a little hard work would teach them how fortunate they are, no?"

Ethel laughed, albeit pausing at the mention of Malaphar. Her smile became more gentle, more of an acknowledgement than genuine pleasure. "It's a name I'm familiar with, the scholars have made me more than aware of it. As troubling as it may be, it's something we shall have to focus on later. I already have people working to deal with him at the college." she replied, her confidence slightly shaken. However, it didn't take her long to recompose herself. "Tell me, how did you come across such a man? Magonsaete must have been more interesting than I expected."

"That's putting it mildly. Truthfully, I wasn't expecting to brave so many hazards as a mere diplomat." He raised his brow, the faintest hint of a smile forming on his lips. "But nevertheless, if you already know who he is, then that makes things a little easier to explain," he said, breathing a deep sigh of relief. 

"It was some three weeks back when our group had just landed on the shore of Magonsaete. Upon our arrival we were beset by bandits, and a particular pair of twins," he recounted. 

"From my perspective, things were going rather poorly until Malaphar arrived. We owed him our lives. Or at least, he made it appear to us that way," he said, frowning. He went on to tell Ethel of Malaphar's plan to divide their group into three, his desire to obtain the elixir, the twins, and about the fountain itself. 

He shuffled rather uncomfortably in his seat. Malaphar, the elixir, the fountain, the war... there was really just too much that needed attention and too little time to attend to it all. The Kingdom would truly be tested in the days to come. 

"It's a lot to take in, I know. There's more to the tale, though," he sighed. "He appeared to have gone out during the early morning--only to return to us with a grievous wound... asking us for our assistance," he said, shrugging his shoulders. "Personally, I wonder how a man like Malaphar receives such a wound in the first place," he said.  

"We prodded him for some information, but he refused to explain to us his circumstances. It was at that point that Lady Claire decided to strike him. That was the impetus for him to reveal his world," he said, grimacing. 

"I should hope that your Majesty and the college are aware of this ability of his? The sheer application of the magic is frightening, to say the least..." 

"Diplomacy isn't always simple, Alain. but hopefully any further assignments will be a little more straight forward for you." Ethel teased, grinning at Alain's tales of hardship. "Malaphar sounds like quite the piece of work. All powerful, ambitious and driven to obtain what he desires. Perhaps I should ask him if he were looking for a wife? Aside from the blatant disregard for the people around him, he sounds like quite the catch. Although I'm not sure if I'm interested in older men..."

Her grin widened, fanning her hand playfully. Listening to Alain's account intently, she appeared to making mental notes of some of the key events. "He can't be too powerful if someone reduced him to begging for help. That and his limited mastery of his world... it makes me think he's only a threat to relatively small groups." Ethel replied, relaxing her shoulders. "The college knows a lot about him, there's a small group dedicated to researching him. If Prince Owen and his men was enough to fend him off, he wouldn't dare attempt anything with Raewald backing him."

"You say that, and yet..." Alain pursed his lips, feeling that Queen Ethel was perhaps taking the matter too lightly. Or am I making a bigger deal out of him than I should be? 

Everything that he had seen about the man had instilled in him a sense of deep seated dread. The fact that there was someone powerful enough to injure Malaphar didn't lessen Malaphar's own significance. Claire seemed to agree with him, at least. And even Belial had gotten mixed into the matter--for whatever reason.

Surely there was something to be feared.

"...He's been amassing followers," Alain said, nervously rubbing his hands together. "Or perhaps he's creating them with the fountain's magic... it's hard to be certain," he said, averting his gaze.

"The only reason Owen's group was able to fend him away, was due to the injury he'd received prior," he said. "If he had been completely healthy, I must admit I think I might not be speaking to you here today," he added. 

A moment passed, before Alain finally let out a deep sigh. "I am in no position to question your judgement on the matter, but I simply ask that you exercise due diligence in the coming months," he said. "I fear that the chaos of the war may provide him an easy avenue to play his hand," he said. 

"The college may believe otherwise, but they have not seen what I have."

"That is all." 

"Quite the astute formulation, Alain. It must be ever so interesting in that clever mind of yours. Every scenario crosses through your mind, and you come up with a response to each one." Ethel replied, watching to see if his tone changed. "Such a careful touch is wonderful when the stakes are so high, but I can assure you that he will be accounted for. I won't let him creep up on us, if he dares try to... he'll find himself in a situation he can't possibly escape from. If an individual who can wound him exists, then the man cannot be all powerful."

"You're giving me far more credit than I deserve your Majesty," he laughed, his worry somewhat abated by Ethel's confidence. He was still rather worried of course, but if Ethel had a plan for Malaphar, then he would simply have to trust that. At the very least he would be able to keep his conscience clear--his job was to tell her, and he'd done just that. 

"I suppose that wraps up everything I needed to discuss," he said, standing up from his chair. "The greater details of the journey from Wyke have all been recorded in my report which you can peruse in greater detail at your leisure," he added.

"By your leave then, Ethel." He grinned, giving her a final bow.

"I look forward to seeing you soon, Alain." Ethel replied, watching him as he made his exit. "I'm going to thoroughly enjoy your report."

Lars and the Belial Buddies

Surrounded by so many spellcasters left Lars a little out of place. He was more reassured of Alain than he was Constance, his posture relaxed as the diplomat made his case. "Well, if yer say they're a decent bunch... we'll have to run it by the boss. He ain't been himself the last few days, not sure if he's on board with all this." Lars replied, Jannes eager to gain his approval.

"Quite right, Sir Duhamel. I can give my solemn word as the lead tutor of the Tytila branch that she will be treated with the utmost care." Jannes assured, eying the door subtly. The others were remaining silent, looking at Alain as if he were the one to make any decisions. "Morganna has stopped by recently, she's been very helpful in relaying information that was obtained during your group's journey."
 

Bowled Over

Morta looked up, giving Sidney a rather sour look. "Of course I've seen it before, Unc-... Baron Nelon eats it all the time. Even if you do something with it, it's still the same stuff at the heart of it." she complained, letting her spoon sink into the bowl. "When we get back home, I'm getting some proper breakfast."

The little old man at the counter looked up at Sidney, and glanced over as Owen followed. Adjusting his glasses, he gave Sidney a friendly grin. "Something sweet you say? I think we've got something that might tickle your fancy. Pancakes have become rather popular in the last few months, perhaps you've want to give ours a try?" he suggested, rather modest in suggestion. He leaned back, calling to the door behind him. "Gertrude? Do you have any pancakes ready? I think our guests might like some."

There was a loud grumble from the backroom. "What? I didn't put any snakes in the kitchen." a deep woman's voice bellowed, the floorboards shaking beneath them. "Maybe it was one of the guests, I bet they did that, young people are always putting snakes in the kitchen."
 

Angel from the Sky

Accolon's eyes opened slowly, their expression bewildered and tired. "My wounds... the pain has lessened, the blades that carve and the rays that burn..." they winced, struggling to raise their head from the ground. Their limbs carefully curled upwards, lacking the strength to make any meaningful movements. "My debt is one that must be repaid... the chains that link my brothers, honour binds us as..."

Nona watched curiously, perhaps choosing to ignore Serge's response to her. Accolon soon fell out of consciousness, only managing a short stare at Serge. Their face was peaceful, Nona's healing had been at least somewhat effective, there weren't any signs of blood on the ground beneath Accolon. The rider's wyvern hissed at Serge, approaching it fallen master protectively. "You have to be careful feeding wyverns." Nona commented, looking at the beast. "I've heard stories where they get a taste for human flesh, they can get really hungry."
 

Unlikely Saviour

Esclabor grinned, waiting for the man's response. "Maybe I do, it really depends who's asking. I've got supplies, I've got allies... it depends what you have, and what you're going to do afterwards." he replied, beckoning for his servant to come forwards. He seemed to take some pleasure in questioning Eric, looking at him as if he were some lost animal.  "You wouldn't be in an enemy country begging for help unless you were truly desperate. Tell me, what are you and your friend doing so far from home?"

Shaggy shuffled forwards, about to open his mouth, but his master stepped in front of him. "Baron Thomas Esclabor of Wyke. I feel like you deserve a good punch in the face for what your country's been up to."  he added, walking past Eric and towards the main gates. Members of the public subtly kept their eyes on Eric, turning away quickly if he dared look at them. "You came from outside the gates, is that where you've dumped your friend? I'm sure the guards will take care of him if you're too slow."

Link to comment
Share on other sites

"Wonderful." Cass smiled again. Maybe things were going to be alright. As they left the quarters and made their way through town, it wasn't like she didn't notice some of the leering she was getting from the citizens. No one tried anything, likely because of the stature of Freya, the imposing figure that she was, but it was still something she noticed. It would take a while, in any case, for things to return to normal, or even get better. Still, breakfast was in sight, a lovely little place with a sign out front: Copperbottom's.

"Well this looks nice, no?" Cass took in the small cottage, offering a tiny chuckle. "Far be it from me to judge an establishment by its design. Let's take a look inside." Cass wasted no time opening the door, stepping in to the smell of cooking food and-- "Owen?" Cass paused at the door, a bit shocked. Not just Owen either, Sidney, Nelon, Morta. "Did everyone decide to eat all at once? What a lovely coincidence." She stepped herself aside to let Claire and Freya in, more pleased than she'd been on the walk here.

Edited by SnakeMomMelissa
Link to comment
Share on other sites

The cold morning air was very much welcome - by the time they reached the converted cottage, Claire was feeling much more awake than she had done before. And it was a good thing, too, considering who they found inside. "Oh. Good morning?" She couldn't help but wonder if they were interrupting something, with Owen and Charlotte eating alone.

Or maybe not so alone, as the mage quickly spotted a few more familiar faces, walking over to their table. "Hello Ceirch. Erm, hi Morta." She really wasn't sure how to speak to the Valter girl, after their ride on her pegasus. Instead, she turned back to the Baron. "How are you? I heard the two of you started training again." If he was back in action so soon, Claire felt fairly relieved. It seemed as though there really was no lasting damage.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

The walk through the city went smoothly enough, the three of them arriving at a modest store that Freya rather liked. She relaxed her shoulders, not having to be as ready when they were at somewhere to eat, entering behind Cassandra and Claire. Perhaps more surprising was that four of their traveling companions had also chosen to eat here this morning, with Ceirch and Morta already seated over oatmeal, and Owen at the counter with Sidney clinging onto his arm. "How amusing," she agreed with the princess. "They have oatmeal here? Well, I haven't eaten yet, so maybe I'll have some."

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Alain sighed. "Tch, yes, whatever. Just don't expect any kindnesses from me should I happen to witness a second display of your elderly 'wisdom' at work," he said, motioning for Constance to rise. Fool me once... 

At least she'd admitted her fault in the matter. 

"In any event, you have my thanks Lars. I imagine the commander has a lot on his mind lately, but If he has any qualms about the arrangement tell him to come speak with me. He may have been her employer, but Emily is also the niece of Wyke's court mage. She's a bit of a special case in that regard," he said thoughtfully. Edion had appeared to him in the vision that Belial had first granted him--but whether or not there was any significance to it had yet to be seen. 

"I can see you're rather eager to speak with her, Jannes. But first I was hoping to speak with you myself," he said, looking over to the principal's peers, as well as Constance. "Since you've been in contact with Morganna, I imagine she's told you much of Malaphar? That means I don't need to go over it twice. I don't know what his aim is, but I imagine he'll be quite the thorn in our side once the war commences in earnest. The Queen says you at the college have accounted for him, but I'm still not entirely convinced," he said, a pensive look about him. 

 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

"Really! If it's not to your liking, then I'm sure Baron Nelon wouldn't mind extra helpings," Sidney commented at Morta's displeasure. But Copperbottom's idea seemed excellent to her. Why didn't she just get something she liked if they have such good food here? "Oh, pancakes! Sure, I'll have some- Owen, you should try them, they're quite delicious. Can I get some strawberries on the side?" she asked, surprised when there were three more familiar faces arriving. "Cass, Claire, Freya? Isn't this the popular stop today?" She was quite cheerful, though seeing Cass was a bit awkward after they hadn't in some time. Even after what I said to Prince Owen, it's not so easy... grr! Why is being conventionally sociable so difficult? "Little did we know, what we thought would be a quiet little spot to start the morning with would be where everyone else had the same idea. How are you all?"

Link to comment
Share on other sites

It was nice to see Sidney in high spirits over not worrying about the guards, even bringing Owen to smile. With the both of them fairly hungry, and Owen not being picky about where they had meal, he let Sidney take the lead and take them to a rather... inconspicuous place. It seemed she'd never been here either, by the looks of it, but everything seemed to brighten as they'd met two familiar faces already having breakfast there. "Well met, Lady Morta. How have you been? What of your sisters?" That's right, they've been following him, and even helped out Cass and Sidney once when the group split. It'd do the prince good to not forget to thank them, and speak to them about what they want to do. I never expected to find support from these three. I should count my blessings. "And you, Baron Nelon, how much has your wound recovered? I must admit, it's been a great shame to not have your aid on the field, but at the same time, I thank Engel it wasn't worse. To lose you would be a great blow to all of Wyke." Certainly not just the army, considering his relationship with the Valter sisters... did Morta just call him Uncle?

"I'll take pancakes, as well." Owen's tone sounded a tad more interested in breakfast after it was revealed that there was indeed more than oatmeal to eat there. Not that he had anything against oatmeal, but... "I'll take mine with lemon and sugar on the side, please." Now that, was something the prince could get behind. A simple breakfast served by a charming old couple couldn't hurt, could it?

Hearing his name mentioned from the entrance to the establishment made Owen turn immediately to see Cassandra had also decided it was time to have breakfast in such a remote place. "Cass?" He returned his sister's word with reluctance. "Are you fine? Nothing happened on the streets on the way here, right?" He walked to her side, his cautious side readily apparent. To Owen, it was that tensions with the common folk of Tytila were not fully reigned by Ethel. "Well... indeed, what a coincidence." With nothing else to add, he relaxed his stance, eyes down to catch an interesting sword sheathed on her side. An epee much like his, by the looks. "Are you comfortable enough to use a sword, now? An epee is unlike most swords, I can give you a few pointers if you wish."

Link to comment
Share on other sites

"I'm quite alright, Sidney, Owen. Please, you don't have to worry that much. Freya was quite the wonderful deterrent for any would be troubles." She smiled, a bit. It was nice to see her brother, as much as Morta and Nelon were likely to give her an odd look. Even Sidney, seemed... No, she was probably just imagining it. Owen had likely talked to her previously... So she hoped. Still, it was nice to have Owen worry over her like this, even a little bit. "I'm not that fragile, I would hope. I always bounce back! I'll just have to keep bouncing back. Trust your little sister." She gently rapped her fist against his arm, smiling up at him, gently.

"Ah, right. I was sure you'd say something about it, teacher," she quipped with a small smirk, gently lifting the emerald blade out of the sheath a few inches. "It's the sword that... Well, you know. Does everyone know about that, now?" she began to ask, lowering her voice to a whisper, as he stood next to her. "In any case, it reminds me of family, and brings me comfort. And, it fits quite well in my hand. Oddly well, really... So! If you want to give me some pointers on how to use it, I'd be glad to hear them. Oh, after food, of course."

Link to comment
Share on other sites

"Why, I suppose I've got to thank Freya for doing her job." The prince nodded at the guard's direction, content with her work. "It wouldn't do if you were hurt, nonetheless, sister. If these common men were stirred enough to attack us during a wedding in Engel's holy church, I'm not past labeling them as barbarians." The last words came out harshly from his tongue, accentuated by a hint of a frown. "Perhaps it would have been better if we'd performed the wedding at Magon." It was sad, the way some people could be prejudiced to his sister.

"About that...?" It didn't dawn immediately, until Cassandra spoke of family and showed the emerald tint of the blade. Father hadn't gifted them any swords before this journey, and his epee was still in his quarters... but an epee with that emerald tint could only belong to Gewaint. That fool... the man of whimsical ambition that almost got Owen killed. Ugh, why had father done that? "That sword... I, I see. It... it fits you?" Why. Why? Owen's reaction was staggered, jerking his head to the side as the realization set in. "It has made me a share of wounds... Gewaint knew how to use the emerald sword technique even before your fortunate swing that one time." He winced. Those weren't exactly pleasant memories for him.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

"Yes, that one. I figured that, well... If I was to be learning from you, and if I could perform the family technique, the sword... It reminded me of that. I don't know, perhaps it's me being silly. Or homesick. I do hope Wyke is alright... Er, O-Owen?" He seemed... Displeased, at the sight of it. She quickly pushed it back into the scabbard, trying to read his face-- but his words were all too clear. "Oh... I... I'd almost forgotten you'd fought him directly. I-- He did? Really? That's... Unfortunately impressive. I can put it away, if you'd prefer, I... I don't wish to trouble you, with awful memories." She truly wished not to, despite her words. But Owen was being so kind to her, she could do him this one favor... Hopefully.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Join the conversation

You can post now and register later. If you have an account, sign in now to post with your account.

Guest
Reply to this topic...

×   Pasted as rich text.   Paste as plain text instead

  Only 75 emoji are allowed.

×   Your link has been automatically embedded.   Display as a link instead

×   Your previous content has been restored.   Clear editor

×   You cannot paste images directly. Upload or insert images from URL.

 Share

  • Recently Browsing   0 members

    • No registered users viewing this page.
×
×
  • Create New...