Unti Family/Nerta/A5S2

Elios' Tale
Roleplay from Nerta the Weaver Message sent to Everyone in the Old Gods Entering the city with Balin, Nerta bristles in the crowd as they head to the Azure Plaza. "A lot more soldiers than last time I was here." A jostling teamster sends Nerta into the red head earning one of them a muttered apology and the other a hiss. "I doubt we'll have to fight a horde of zombies, but we should check the temple. Someone's going to need our help." Nerta the Weaver (Foederati)
Roleplay from Nerta the Weaver Message sent to Everyone in the Old Gods Happy to be away from the crowd, Nerta taps at the quest board outside the Temple to the Old Gods. "Usual stuff for a city. Couple hauntings. Missing kid. Merchant needs needs someone to collect his lost cargo." She rubs at her injured arm. It feels hot. What she gets for catching a death knight blade. "Compared to Bessimir this stuff should be easy. Especially if the temple has any elixirs. You could probably handle it all on your own while I heal up..." The thought is cut short as a young woman clutching a parchment intent for the board steps into view. Her flaxen hair is pulled in a tight bun, and she wore a washerwoman's skirt. But most telling her eyes shimmer with tears. "S-Sir, Miss... p-please..." Nerta slumps and closes her eyes. Her voice warm for the first time since Balin met her. "Brother or son?" The washerwoman swallows hard and points toward the slopes of the mountain. "My F-Father...the quarry. A..A landslide." "Heh... that one's new. Let's hope the Dark Mistress hasn't welcomed him to her court just yet." Squeezing the woman's arm, Nerta waves Balin to follow. No monsters this time, but someone still needed help, and that’s why they were here. Nerta the Weaver (Foederati)
Roleplay from Nerta the Weaver Message sent to Everyone in the Old Gods Running hands through her hair, stone dust scatters and Nerta takes another sip of water. She needed it. The digging had been sweaty work, and her injured arm throbbed. But either the Life Taker or the Weaver of Fate had spared these people. Moments like this are fleeting. Usually families aren’t reunited, they’re mourning. So Nerta enjoys the relative calm and leans back till her hood falls away so the sun can play across her face. But even the sun sets eventually. “This is the thing?” The sneer guard captain blocks the light as an underlying prods Nerta’s shoulder with a spear. “Yes sir, one of those mountain folk.” “Folk? You give these beasts too much credit Cedric.” Nerta scans the small contingent. Forty… she could take them, but only if she was willing to kill some…. “I said stand up beast! I know you speak language.” … most. “It has been a good day Captain and I would rather it continue, for both of us. I am indeed from the Roof of the World, but I mean your people no har….” The prod of a second spear cuts her off as the captain with the curly moustache scowls. “No harm? There was a Crystal-Cursed landslide. Everyone knows your kind cause disasters and ill luck.” “I just saved those people.” The woman’s tone flat, her eyes glitter with malice but the array of spears hold her back. “I will not debate with the likes of you. Cedric! Take this thing to the dungeons, this will be a matter for the duke.” Nerta the Weaver (Foederati)
Roleplay from Soren Navaar Message sent to Everyone in the Old Gods "Prison?" Soren sighed, shaking his head. Probably Thalmarkin. Probably for something stupid. That was where he had last seen her, and he didn't doubt she was still out there. He pondered over if he could even help her or not. Katria, the first daughter of one of the river lords, stepped forward with a smug look on her face. "If I may, sir? That woman doesn't deserve your time anyway. She's uncouth, a drifter hardly better than an adventurer, and I can't see why you would spend your time with her." Soren shook his head again, this time at his assistant. "Then you haven't been paying attention," Soren told her, ignoring the offense she took at that statement. Setting aside the latest harvest reports Katria had originally come to deliver, he took a blank piece of parchment and picked up his pen. "There's more to her than just what you see on the surface, Katria." "She seems to hate you." Soren laughed, but didn't give her a response. Soren Navaar (Count of Seven Rivers)
Roleplay from Nerta the Weaver Message sent to Everyone in the Old Gods It's hard to tell time in a dungeon. But the pale woman is able to count heartbeats by the throb of her injured arm. Five hundred beats after the Old Man had decided to look around the citadel, the door to her cell opens with a screech. Expecting a guard, the appearance of a nervous young man dressed as a page is curious. As is the medical kit thrust toward her. “Uh… miss Nerta, y-you need some medicine and bandages right?” Her breath steaming in the cool air, she swallows hard to clear her throat. "Thank you, lad. I hope the Old Man wasn’t too big of a scare.” The boy fidgets with his tunic while Nerta opens the pack to pull out salve and alcohol. “It’s alright miss. I heard about what you did down at the quarry…” A faint smile turns to a wince as she cleans the wound, and the page fills the silence. “The Captain is just worried about the war, the army was routed in Qual and there’s been looting.” The splash of alcohol has Nerta hiss and tense, leading the page to nearly jump out of his skin. As the pain subsides, Nerta shrugs. “The captain arrested me for the same reason you’re staring.” The boy had the decency to flush and look away, leaving Nerta to fill the silence. “It’s alright. I’m used to it.” Working the salve into the cut, she continues. “I heard others being released but I’m still here. Why?” The boy rubs his head and glances over his shoulder. “The Duke’s busy with the war and the Captain wants you transferred out of the city and to the judge.” Nerta snorts as she winds the bandages around her arm. “The Royal Judge for little old me? I guess the Ice Queen was in a hurry to balance her scales of fate.” Tying off the bandage, Nerta folds back up the pack and pushes it toward him with her foot. “Thank you lad, now get going before you get in trouble. I have to clean up my cell for company after all.” Nerta the Weaver (Foederati)
Report from Elios Everlight Message sent to Everyone in the Old Gods Most Honoured Duchess Anyte, Senex Nerta: The Temple in my city has never looked so impressive. How has Vore come to be bestowed with such an honour? Senex, I do not believe that we have met. I wonder that his Majesty has not noted your presence, what with the war and all. Would it be wise to trust that your intentions here are all above board? Not to throw bald suspicion upon you, Lady; I ask openly of a peer. For the North, Elios Everlight (Duke of Vore)
Roleplay from Nerta the Weaver Message sent to Everyone in the Old Gods Nerta squints in the morning light as she steps from the citadel as a free woman once more. “Here,” the captain sniffs and extends her cloak, “if you must be released among honest folk, have the decency to cover yourself.” The woman says nothing to the guard’s sneer, but as she adjusts the hood another figure trots up atop a splendid charger. The resplendent man is bearded with hazel-green eyes and sandy hair. “Senex, I do not believe that we have met. The Temple in my city has never looked so impressive” The horse stamps and he pulls at the reins. “Still, I wonder that his Majesty has not noted your presence, what with the war and all. Would it be wise to trust that your intentions here are all above board?” His smile earns a grumble from the guard captain. “Not to throw bald suspicion upon you, Lady; I ask openly of a peer.” Checking her gear, Nerta cranes her neck to eye the looming man for several heartbeats. Based on his comfort in the saddle and claim to the city, this must be the Duke of Vore. “You’re a peer, are you? The very same Duke who’s dungeons she’d spent a week in. “Well, why didn’t you say so...” Alarm bells ring for the captain at the tone of the ‘thing’, but he’s not fast enough to stop Nerta snatching her spear and launching herself in a run. Crossing the distance as a scuttling blur, the woman springs from the ground toward the cavalier. Nerta the Weaver (Foederati)
Training Match (Personal message) - 5 minutes ago Elios Everlight, Duke of Valour, Margrave of Vore meets his challenger Nerta Unti, Dame of Agyr, Priestess of The Old Gods for the agreed training match. Both participants are using the 'overrun' strategy, so that neither has an advantage. After a series of blows, Nerta wins the training match.
Roleplay from Nerta the Weaver Message sent to Everyone in the Old Gods Nerta crashes into the Duke before he draws his sword, but Elios holds his seat through training and reflex. Adapting quickly, the woman plucks a knife from her belt to lunge. It forces Elios to release the saddle and parry with his bracer. Legs alone control the dancing horse as the blade switches hands for a second swing. But the Duke grabs her arm and ripostes with a heavy crack to her ribs. Thrown back against the neck of the panicking charger, Nerta grabs his arm and pulls Elios forward into a right hook. Dazed and unable to pull free, Elios hammers with his left. The flailing metal crunches Nerta’s injured arm to a hiss of pain. From there everything about the woman is a blur of fabric and hands. When things settle, the Duke finds his left arm pinned as well and Nerta peering up at him close enough to taste the sweat on her brow. Eyes wide she clicks something in the back of her throat before swallowing hard. “Peer?” Her breath washes across his beard and, despite the tremble from adrenaline, her hand remains steady as the knife presses to his throat. “Maybe I should put you in a little box for a week...” “THE DUKE! TO ARMS!” Sweat drips from Elios’ nose to splash on her own, but Nerta’s gaze never stops boring into those hazel-green eyes. “Now Duke, tell them to stand down. This is between peers after all.” Nerta the Weaver (Foederati)
Roleplay from Nerta the Weaver Message sent to Everyone in the Old Gods Nerta knew that a man like the captain is a coward. He will do nothing while a knife sits at the Duke's throat. But the captain is not alone. There are soldiers, torn between duty and their petty tyrant. There are peasants, cooks, and groundskeepers- all transfixed at the sight. But there is also a young boy who wants so much to honour his grandfather. A young boy who bravely ventured alone into the dungeons with medicine. A young boy who does what's right. So while the crowd stands frozen, the young page picks up Nerta's spear and places the tip against her side. "Lady…" Nerta's grip tightens on the knife, her knuckles turning white. "...please." The blade falls from her hand and she finally closes her eyes. Nerta the Weaver (Foederati)