| Children
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| Roleplay from Nerta the Weaver |
| Message sent to Everyone in Wudenkin |
| It had been some time since the cloaked Nerta had entered the Cursed City of Wudenkin to assist the Revenites with the Conclave of Necromancers. Some had not escaped that day, but she had, by all appearances.
The city itself seemed as it always was, far too busy for the space between the mountains and the lake. There would no doubt be things for her to hunt, though without a Temple to the Old Gods it was harder to learn what the people needed.
Perhaps the large muster of soldiers might hold answers?
"Preparing for a sortie?" |
| Nerta the Weaver (Foederati) |
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| Roleplay from Venderaic Aboolio |
| Message sent to Everyone in Wudenkin |
| The soldier, a young man in scalemail with a serpent crowned helmet, turned to regard Nerta as she spoke. "You must not be from around here if you've not heard tell of the Raid. We're off for gold and glory, or so the blue bloods tell us." He said, then glance about and leaned in closer. "More likely we're off to steal food from some poor farmers and the like, but hey, it beats doing drills forever." He gestured to the other soldiers around him who were in fact running through a series of marching drills. Their short conversation had caught the attention of someone important looking who was riding by, who rode over with an angry look on his face.
"What's this then? Do I pay you to conoodle with the peasantry Sergeant?" The lofty looking man on horse back asked. As the soldier opened his mouth to reply he was slapped across the face, causing him to stagger and his helmet to roll from his head onto the cobbled street. This appeared to have cowed the soldier to the horse backed man's liking. "Sorry Lord Vendraic..." He quibbled as he went to retrieve his helmet.
Seeming self satisfied Vendraic turned his horse and stared down his nose at Nerta, a sneer painting his lips. "You, girl. You should peddle your body to the men after they finish with their shifts, not while their on duty. You aught to know better." |
| Venderaic Aboolio (Depraved Prince of Reven) |
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| Roleplay from Nerta the Weaver |
| Message sent to Everyone in Wudenkin |
| The woman in travel worn browns and blues nods along with the sergeant's explanation. Glory and gold... Is there anything the lowlanders crave more? Still, the Revenite regiment is in good form, even if some look a bit thin. Perhaps the rumours of grain shortages were true afterall...
"I'm not sure where I'm from anymore, to be honest, though my story isn't important here." Nerta's spear bounces on the stone of the parade ground with a ring up the wicked curve of the blade. "These days I help people..."
Before the wanderer can ask after monster nests and haunted catacombs the pair are joined by another who makes quite the impression. It reminds her of Duke Elios of Thalmarkin. That exchange had gone poorly, but it does not stop Nerta for a moment.
"Yes, you aught to know better, but here we are." Nerta's eyes glitter under her hood in the shadow of the stallion as she asks with her clipped accent. "Shall you dismount before we fight, or shall I unseat you myself?" |
| Nerta the Weaver (Foederati) |
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| Training Match
Venderaic Aboolio, Depraved Prince, Lord of War of Reven, Royal of Reven, Duke of Argonautica Orphica, Margrave of Ircymbar, Marshal of the Depraved Legion meets his challenger Nerta Unti, Judge of Ar Agyr, Dame of Agyr, Priestess of The Old Gods for the agreed training match.
Nerta has decided to use the 'trick moves' strategy while Venderaic has chosen the 'defensive' strategy, giving Nerta the advantage.
After a series of blows, Nerta wins the training match.
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| Roleplay from Nerta the Weaver |
| Message sent to Everyone in Wudenkin |
| The dismissive sneer of the noble atop his steed is marred by the butt of Nerta’s spear into his ribs. As warned, the blow is hard enough to unseat the man with the clang of armour and jingle of bridle from the startled horse. Eventually the dust clears and a boot steps atop Venderaic’s right arm, but Nerta’s attention is on the crowd.
“Now before I continue, does anyone else want to get involved?”
She recalls keenly her last duel with a loutish lord, how a plucky guard had intervened and gotten her tossed in prison. The sergeant hardly seems the type to jump in, but the muster field is packed with all sorts, and someone might take offence. |
| Nerta the Weaver (Foederati) |
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| Roleplay from Venderaic Aboolio |
| Message sent to Everyone in Wudenkin |
| Vendraic was caught off guard as the woman forewent the proffered practice sword and instead jabbed him and knocked him down with the butt of her spear. He fell heavily to his back and his arm clutching the golden cane was pinned within a moment, quickly answering his questions as to whether she could back up her boasting. He knew from his time in the dueling league he was not the finest fighter, but her promptness in taking him down told him that she had some experience in this.
From the ground he gestured to his Captain and a moment later a cadre of soldiers had drawn arms and moved in to surround and restrain the spear wielding women. It didn't take long for their positions to become reversed as his men helped Vendraic to his feet and disarmed Nerta in turn. Vendraic was quick to brush his fine military livery clean of the dust from the pavement and offered the woman a reprimanding sneer as he straightened himself, clearly having a low opinion of the manner in which she had overcome him in their contest. He picked up his gold encrusted cane and spun it a few times before cradling it under one arm, then took Nerta's spear from one of his men.
"You have some experience and confidence to you... So I will again ask your identity." He stated without looking at her, instead spending his time inspecting her weapon. He didn't look like he was actually gaining insight from the inspection, more like he was willfully choosing to dismiss her importance by not giving her his full attention. |
| Venderaic Aboolio (Depraved Prince of Reven) |
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| Roleplay from Nerta the Weaver |
| Message sent to Everyone in Wudenkin |
| History repeats for the shrouded young woman, who finds herself quickly surrounded by guards keen to earn their pay. Nerta relinquishes her perch on Venderaic as the ring of steel closes in, and tosses her spear to the closest soldier with a long suffering sigh. However her cooperation ends there, and she stares down any of the soldiers who attempt to get closer.
Venderaic takes his time allowing the chaotic outburst to once again settle into something more sedate. The spear in his hand is well made, but functional rather than fine. It lacks any adornments to the timber or blade, save a tassel that flutters like wheat in a field.
“Yes, let’s pretend you asked who I was, and not how much for the night. Not like you could afford it anyway.” A faint chitter accompanies Nerta’s thin smile at his question. Swallowing hard, she clears her throat and continues. “I am called Nerta. I wander and solve problems. You?” |
| Nerta the Weaver (Foederati) |
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| Roleplay from Venderaic Aboolio |
| Message sent to Everyone in Wudenkin |
| Vendraic clicked his tongue when she had finished answering his question and turned the spear, angling the point toward her. "I might assume you were a spy, but the fact that you do not recognize me as Vendraic Aboolio, Depraved Prince and ruler of the realm in which you stand, tells me that you are either woefully uninformed or incredibly eager to experience prolific torture." He wavered the tip of the spear for a moment, seeming to consider whether he wanted to carry out the subtle threats of torture right there before the crowd, but seemed to decide against it.
"I ask again, Nerta..." His voice drew out the name in an insulting manner. "Who are you that would act so boldly to me? Lie to me and I promise you will live only long enough to regret the decision." |
| Venderaic Aboolio (Depraved Prince of Reven) |
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| Roleplay from Nerta the Weaver |
| Message sent to Everyone in Wudenkin |
| “My, you are trying very hard to impress me right now.” Nerta doesn’t twitch as Venderaic swings her spear around to threaten her. “I’m touched.”
Attention drawn to the man’s audience, those glittering eyes consider her options askance. This king can ill afford to leave her challenge unanswered, but the thought of compliance makes her hands itch. So much for learning from one’s mistakes.
“I am Nerta, a wanderer who assists those in need. Since I arrived you have done nothing but attempt to insult my honour. Thus, as is traditional, I answered your words with violence. Yet here you are, unable to fight your own battles. Like a child.” |
| Nerta the Weaver (Foederati) |
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| Roleplay from Venderaic Aboolio |
| Message sent to Everyone in Wudenkin |
| The women's words caused Vendraic to flinch momentarily, but after a moment he smiled at her. "I've given you your chance to plead a case for amnesty, Nerta the wanderer. I know not what your mission is here, or why you have chosen such a foolish course, but I shall find my answers one way or another." With a quick flick of his wrist he tossed her spear to one of his men, who unprepared fumbled it and almost dropped it. "Clap this woman in irons. She will accompany us on the journey South." He told one of his men, then turned his back to her, fully expecting his orders to be carried out without bothering to watch.
"Before I assumed the mantle of rulership I stalked the night and lived by the cloak and dagger. I came close to losing my head more than once while living that life..." He said absently, though the words were clearly meant for her. "It taught me many things... Such as the fact that only fools fight fairly." |
| Venderaic Aboolio (Depraved Prince of Reven) |
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| Roleplay from Nerta the Weaver |
| Message sent to Everyone in Ippetimbal |
| The cloaked woman in Venderaic’s entourage ignores the manacles weighing on her two arms. She’d offered them without much fuss when the prince had declared her captive, on the insistence that she retain her cloak. The sergeant she’d been chatting with before the impromptu duel hadn’t questioned the matter. Since he had little motive to notify his loutish lord, Nerta was able to observe the proceedings from under her hood.
The Revenites had arrived in Nothoi lands only hours before to find a cadre of foreign soldiers waiting for them. Apparently the entire march had been well coordinated. No doubt the logistics of moving so many wagons must be a nightmare, even if most were empty.
The man driving her own ride had certainly avoided conversation, despite her best efforts and so Nerta’s glittering eyes now scan the line of pennants in the hilly terrain. The small gathering on the nearby hill certainly seems animated, but from her vantage she could see little and hear even less. |
| Nerta the Weaver (Foederati) |
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