Unti Family/Nerta/A1S2

Tournament for Ancients
Roleplay from Nerta the Weaver Message sent to Fronepu City Gates, Capital of the Five Lands As winter turned to Spring, the cloaked woman from the mountains had learned a thing or two about the lowlands. Stark lessons in the treachery of old women, the kindness of relieved mothers, and the helplessness of the people. Yet though she had bloodied her spear in the service of others countless times, she still had no answers to her own questions. And so desperation put the hunter on the path of very different prey: an old grey beard, Bob Baceolus, Duke of Agyr. Under normal circumstances a man of his rank would hardly meet with a vagabond like her, but Leaving aside the challenge of getting an audience with the man, even at his age he never stood still. Thus she decided to set up an ambush. Even a warrior Duke can't avoid attending the Royal Tournament. Thankfully Nerta avoided a long march to the capital by saving a passing cart from a scyther. Thus the city of towers, Fronepu, sways into view. Despite the crumbling remains of the outer walls the seat of the crown is clean. Well, cleaner than Mhed at least. The only question: is this normal or in preparation for the tournament? Passing through the outer gates, the familiar chill wind draws her attention up to the faded wolf paw. A mark of the past. A past that haunts her still. As does her light coin purse. Everything about living in the lowlands is just so expensive and, with a tournament underway, prices are even higher. No matter. As she'd learned weeks ago, even this shining city had a dark underbelly that would pay a hunter well. Nerta the Weaver (Foederati)
Roleplay from Aibhlidhn Dubhaine Message sent to Fronepu City Castle, Royal Quarters Her Majesty, Aibhlidhn Dubhaine, Protector of the Five Lands and Crusader of the Metal Gods of Daishi, relaxes atop her balcony to admire the Royal Tournament and bask in the sun. The steady stream of knights from all the kingdoms will soon be enjoying the feast, and the dancehalls will be filled to bursting. The people need such festivity after the long and cold winter. Yet, her amber eyes set on the ornate Crown looming close at hand. As always it calls and even she can not avoid it for long. Aibhlidhn Dubhaine (Queen of Ar Agyr)
Roleplay from Nerta the Weaver Message sent to Fronepu City, Wolf Tavern Best laid plans… Swinging around her spear to strike down the last rattler, Nerta sighs and inspects the dusty catacombs in flickering torch light. Did the Valentic Order of old burrow in every city they entered? First Mhed, with Captain Egan, then Agyr, and now here… A chill wind whistles through the shattered bones, calling the hunter to dig and is rewarded with old coins. Like the tower looming over the gate, these are marked with a wolf's paw on one side, but the other is a blazing sun. Bouncing the coins she listens, either to their jingle, or something else. Either way, at least she can afford a hot meal. Pulling her cloak back around her as she exits the underground, the young woman picks one of the alehouses at random. It's down a side street and thus the wide round room filled with tables is mostly empty. It's cosy, if sparse, with the only real decoration being an old banner nearly as ratty as her cloak. It's black, but at this point that isn't a surprise. No matter where she went she couldn't escape old ghosts and the lingering remains they leave behind. The bowl of victory stew clomping on the table pulls Nerta back to the here and now. A few coins later and she gets to relax with a tasty mea-... A vessel with a pestle thumps on the table. "Well, well, someone let a pretty little thing in without getting her a drink? A shame that, but don't you worry." The bearded man breaks into a grin. "I'm a proper gentleman and happy to keep a lady, lubricated." The glittering gaze narrows and Nerta puffs aside a stray hair. "Well I'm not a lady and I'm not looking for company so why don't you go bother someone else." The man holds a chalice from the palace positively overflowing with frothy ale. "Naa lass, this here's my table and I do like your eyes." Nerta's grip tightens on her spoon as her skin crawls. But before she could respond the door of the alehouse bangs on the wall. It draws every eye in the place to the puffed up patrician waddling in. No doubt just as intended. Dressed from head to toe in resplendent clothing of a dozen colours, the sword on his hip seems more for show then combat. As is the hefty purse he tosses onto the counter. "Let it be known effendi; Achille de Medici, Knight of Keffa, buys the house a round or twelve!" All but two cheer at the news, Nerta and the bearded man dressed in blue. Turns out free ale is effective bait for a crowd, and a growing crowd, effective cover for a letch. The man tries to slip into the chair next to her, but Nerta is having none of it and kicks it back. "Seats taken." Catching the sliding seat he laughs. "Feisty! But that's alright, I'll just stand." He toasts and leans against the wall, his hand rests on her spear. "So not from around here, not a lady, but still armed." Nerta's glare earns another grin. "And ya, a spicy kitten. Means you must be an adventurer, and broke. I know a few ways you can make easy money." Nerta sneers and rises from her seat. "You mean by killing you and collecting a bounty? Because there's generally good pay in slaughtering monsters." The man swirls his cup and yawns before taking a drink. "Ya, ya, you're such a spicy kitten, you'll fight the whole bar for attacking one of the regulars." A cute couple hunting for a quiet corner get a bit close, encouraging the man to lean in. "Face it little girl, you're not leaving until I say you can." Gritting her teeth hard enough they might crack, Nerta calmly plucks a dagger from her belt and slashes at the man. His reflexes are pretty quick, so she only catches the back of his hand. It's enough for him to drop his drink leaving the chalice to shatter on the ground while he lets out a surprised oath. "You bitch! I was going to go easy on you, but now..." The commotion catches the attention of the couple, and the man holding a flagon with a dragon interjects. "Sounds like someone's had a bit too much to drink." His voice has an almost musical quality. "Why don't you take a walk?" The bearded man in blue spins around to snarl at the intrusion only to pause. He seems to recognize the pair and smirks still clutching his hand. "Not a bad idea, but don't worry, spicy kitten; I'll be back." The three leave, but not before the man with the flagon pours out the vessel with the pestle. "Sorry, miss. I'll buy you a replacement." "I'm not interested." "Fair enough," he bows, "hope your day goes well." With that they leave and Nerta can finally finish her meal. Not that she has the appetite any more. Better to get out of here, she has work to do after all. Nerta the Weaver (Foederati)
Roleplay from Soren Navaar Message sent to Fronepu City, Wolf Tavern Anger made Soren’s gut churn, though it didn’t show. Nothing showed unless someone knew how to look past the mask he had long since perfected. It only lifted as the four rounded the corner to the small alley between the tavern and a local shop. Soren growled, grey eyes showing the first hint of what he was feeling. “What did you step in for, pup?” the bearded man demanded at the sound. “We would have had her, and this damn job would be over with.” The couple hanging off of each other like a pair of lovers were called the siblings back at the Blue Tower, not actual siblings thankfully, but they came in together and had long since been inseparable. The couple stepped back, having been on the receiving end of Soren’s anger before. The bear of a man in front of him is from a different faction. He had no idea what to make of him until now. Reckless. “This is why I hate working with you Factorium lunatics. Everything’s an experiment to you! Were you going to try kidnapping in broad daylight out of a busy tavern, trying to sleep with your target?” "It's just a bit o' fun," he said in his defence. Stalking towards the bearded man, Soren’s hands balled into fists, the first strike sending the man stumbling deeper into the alley. "You used my name to get in here safely…" When Soren walks past the siblings, his glare makes them freeze. "Tell Silas I'm done with this…" Soren Navaar (Knight of Nothoi)
Roleplay from Gustav Kuriga Message sent to Fronepu City, Across from Wolf Tavern In the shaded corner of the marketplace sits a man robbed in black with trim of both crimson & blue. Despite the festivities around him, none dare disturb his reading. Rumours claim he’s the Prophet of the Bloody Prince from the distant land of Vordul Sanguinus. Others say he offers salvation for humanity. Yet the smiling man would happily answer their questions about the tenets of Vordulism if they only found the courage to ask. Gustav Kuriga (Prophet of Vordulism)
Roleplay from Nerta the Weaver Message sent to Fronepu City, Across from the Wolf Tavern Nerta finishes pushing her way through the crowd only to find the market plaza lacks the usual bustle. Maybe everyone is just in the alehouse but… A familiar chill breeze pulls her gaze toward the slender man shaded by the tree in the corner. He’s reading, so is probably noble born, yet the robes are not the dress of a warrior. Yet despite the differences there seems a thread, a connection of sorts. Ignoring the chill, Nerta glances around the square and frowns in realisation. The Plebeians are leaving the man well alone, just like they did for her. It is surreal to feel kinship with a stranger purely due to being equally excluded. Thoughts of home bring a familiar melody to her fingers, by the Gods she missed the mountains. Stuck here in these alien lands on the outside just like this stranger. She knows nothing of the man really, and yet it looks as though no one else would take the time to learn of him. Nerta pushes aside the thoughts of home least homesickness becomes despair, but wavers. Could she afford a detour? The ache of kinship pulls her to at least try but… The blare of trumpets pulls her attention toward the walls. Has her quarry arrived at last? Glancing from one to the other she scowls and stalks out of the square. The stranger didn’t look like he was going anywhere and if that was Bob, he probably wasn’t going to sit still for long. Nerta the Weaver (Foederati)
Roleplay from Godfrey Greybrook Message sent to Fronepu City, Across from the Wolf Tavern Pain is an excellent teacher. Godfrey learned that and more in the southern hills. Once a man too proud to hold his tongue, the cult of Vordulism had shown him the error of his ways. Thus the man dressed in black and crimson merely bows his head as Achille de Medici showers the alehouse with drinks. His inspection of the crowd had proven interesting. Especially the lady in the corner… Ah but she is probably not noble born, otherwise why avoid Gustav. A pity, but even the rabble are needed for the great plan. Should he intervene? Ah but the woman is leaving at the call of trumpets. Perhaps another time. Godfrey Greybrook (Knight of Vordul Sanquinus)
Roleplay from Bob Baceolus Message sent to Fronepu City, Tournament Grounds The shining ranks of the Ballistic Hooligans march into the tournament grounds. At the head of the column rides Bob Baceolus, Duke of Agyr and Seneschal of the Five Lands. Many would scoff at the old greybeard claiming age had melted his frame, and dulled his wit. But those blue eyes are sharp and his body, though lean, is strong as a bow. The festivities remind the man of his youth. A simpler time when his banner carried the mark of the wolf and his blood ran hot. He rarely competed in those days, too busy slaying monsters, and such tournaments are closed to the officers of the royal court. But it's probably for the best; he'd be unlikely to keep up with all the younger knights these days. Settling his men in barracks, and giving them leave, the old duke and his guards ride down to fare to welcome all to the Five Lands. Bob Baceolus (Seneschal of Ar Agyr, Duke of Agyr)
Roleplay from Nerta the Weaver Message sent to Fronepu City, Tournament Grounds So...this is the infamous Bob. Gripping a windowsill of the old Stronghold in a few places, Nerta peers down from her perch at the unassuming precession. The greybeard riding a black charger looks pretty comfortable in the saddle and there is a wariness about him that reminded her of a cat. Even relaxed, he seems ready to ambush something. And play with it. Still he was certainly old. In fact he made the Old Man seem positively spry. Shielding her eyes from the glare, Nerta traces his path through town. At last Bob is away from his battlefields with only a token handful of, admittedly sturdy looking guards. Not people to mess with, but she has little choice if she wants any sleep. As the man reaches the fare she scales back down the tower and attempts an approach, but the guards are well paid and sharp of eye. They see her off promptly since a vagabond has no business bothering a duke. But Nerta is stubborn and the chilly breeze draws her attention to the man’s horse. That is her window. Someone needs to fetch things, so she lingers close at hand and when the mighty Bob calls for water Nerta happily obliges. The sloshing pail is actually fairly large, but she has a solid grip, or three, letting her approach the group like a crab. As the horse looms overhead, Nerta can’t help but wonder how she might begin but the thought is cut short by an errant splash that soaks into her cloak. Cursing, the closest guard menaces a spear her way. They take Bob’s safety seriously indeed. Thus she waits, the duke not even looking at her. “Think I saw her earlier, Captain.” The stern veteran sweeps her cloaked figure with his gaze. The man sporting a wickedly sharp goatee frowns. “Really? Then step back lass. His Grace’s horse can get water from a bucket without you.” Months of work for this opportunity only to be denied? No, but what can she… The chill wind answers her racing thoughts with an echoing call. “So this is what became of the Beloved Hidden Sage of War, the Guardian of the Flame, the Last Sentinel of Rengo…” Bob has been ignoring the slip of a girl, but this icy litany focuses his attention like a hawk on a mouse. And the titles keep coming. “…Imperator Primus, the White Walker of Lin Helon, the Dancer of Daimons, Champion of the Ancestors, Shield of Thalmarkin, Saviour of Avalon, Reaper of Emperors, Scourge of Tyranny, and how can any forget, the Grinning Fool.” Nerta the Weaver (Foederati)
Roleplay from Bob Baceolus Message sent to Fronepu City, Tournament Grounds The litany ends like the death of a song leaving the guards alert, and Bob thoughtful. Wordlessly he signals for the captain to hold, and strokes his beard. “Haven’t heard that list in a long time. A nice trick. I would have your name, and your source.” Eyeing the guards each in turn the woman sets her teeth. “I’m Nerta, and if you want to know my source, take a look in the bucket.” Again silence stretches, but curiosity encourages the ancient warrior to wave her through the spears. Alas, thanks to his high horse, Nerta must hoist the pail to her shoulder. Can’t have His Grace bend. Reflected in the peasant’s grail, Bob can see how his face is lined and weathered from decades out in the field. Inspection of his thinning grey hair is cut short by the arrival of an altogether different figure floating just behind his shoulder. The man has a neatly trimmed beard, dusty grey hair and burning violet eyes. He wears a well appointed jacket, quite formal in cut and when he speaks his voice echoes as a chill breeze. “It is good to see you again, old friend. But I must say, the years have not been kind to you, and coming from me that is saying something.” Bob arches a brow at the snide comment and addresses his guards without taking his eyes off the eerie figure in the water. “I assume there is nothing behind me, Captain. Which means either this is a poor illusion attempting to trick an old warrior, or Consul Aldo has at last returned. I'm not rightly sure which is worse." The guard affirms Bob’s guess while the spectre chuckles. "Come on Bob, my Imperator, where's your sense of adventure? The king-under-the-mountain has returned and you know that means things are going to get exciting." “Maybe the reflection of exciting,” Bob tugs at the reins, “you aren’t exactly all here.” Nerta scowls under the weight of the bucket as the pair banter and curls her fingers around the lip for a better grip. The shaking sees the ghostly man rippling in the water. He waits for the image to clear before straightening his jacket. “Yes well, turns out when you steal from the Gods they notice. Even if they wait a bit to collect their due.” “See? This is why I never bothered with the Gods, it only leads to mischief.” “Oh that’s rich coming from the near avatar of the Ephemeral Emperor. Has age stolen your wit as well? What happened to the man who catapulted zombies into a party just to liven things up?” The memory of that crashed ball has Bob smile, but three heartbeats later the grin fades. “It really is you, old friend. Then I am truly sorry. I failed you, failed everyone. Tyrants came after you were gone and I am a warrior, not a leader. I could do nothing to protect your legacy. Everything you built has been destroyed. Everyone you shielded is exposed. And I-” He sighs, “I was unable to save even you in the end.” The reflection of the ghost flares. “Bob. I know you did all that you could. If you failed, it is not for lack of trying, but for the lack of grace in the world. Though much has been lost, I am happy that I could see you even one last time.” Nerta mutters and sags under the weight of the bucket, setting the reflection to waver. “Gods... old men won't shut up…” The ethereal equivalent of a sigh bubbles up from the blurry image, but slowly the reflection returns to focus. “Don't mind Nerta, she tries but…” Trailing off he presses on. “It doesn’t matter. Yes Bob, I’m back.” Bob Baceolus (Seneschal of Ar Agyr, Duke of Agyr)
Roleplay from Mielba Cordenata Message sent to Fronepu City, Cordenata Family Manor The old manor by the sea is airy and bright despite the signs of genteel decay. Scampering through the halls of white stone is a young woman dressed in gold and orange. Her blonde hair bounces nearly as much as the letter she carries. “Father! I did it! I have an estate!” The elderly Cordenata sits in his study as his lovely daughter Mielba bounds towards him, holding the deed. From the garden a woman’s voice mingles with the bracing sea air. “Are you certain it is in Ar Agyr this time?” Mielba is far too excited to notice the pointed question. “Yes! Yes! Come see!” Her father takes his time reviewing the deed while the excitable Mielba bounces as a gull on the waves. Eventually her mother arrives, casting a casual glance to ensure her wayward daughter hadn’t ended too far-afield. “Duke Bob of Agyr, Seneschal of the Five Lands, hereby offers Dame Mielba the estates of Bay... tzeera?” “Y-yes.” This causes the young lass to pause. Had she messed up somehow? “Seneschal Bob let me name it. He said we could always change it. What do you think?” The critical Lady Cordenata looks outward with a faraway gaze. Eyes closed she shakes her head slowly from side to side, but finally grants a small nod. Keeping out of the discussion, Lord Cordenata pokes his head out from the battlements when the salvo concludes. “This is a sizable parcel of land, my dear. The Senechal must have taken a liking to you.” “As well he should, though,” Lady Cordenata frows, “Mayhaps this is a token of goodwill in light of the embarrassment? Really my dear accidentally swearing fealty to a foregin lord of this Vordulism cult is most, unbecoming…” “Oh! Um, neither,” replies Mielba bashfully. “The Senechal’s man explained that this is purely for administrative reasons, but that His Grace Bob looks forward to my continued success.” “Ah. Well no matter! The Gods have seen fit to bless you, child.” Lord Cordenata carefully made the effort to stand. He beams, standing tall and proud, appearing for a moment as he had when she was a child. “Now you are truly a proper noblewoman!” Mother smiles wanly. Mielba Cordenata (Knight of Ar Agyr)
Roleplay from Elios Everlight Message sent to Fronepu City, Stables The sandy-haired, burly knight dismounts just outside the tournament ground to admire the banners and pennants caught high in the coastal breezes of Fronepu. Compared to his wooded land to the north, it is comfortably warm here with a sweet smell of the eastern sea. His horse Stout is in fine spirits despite the long ride though the chestnut mare tosses her head and fixes him with a sidelong glance as though to say: "I know there's a stable in there with oats for me, get a move on!" Elios leads Stout through the gate on foot, presenting his admission fee for the tournament to a clerk, and then steps away confidently to look for a stable-hand. "You'll be wanting the stable boarding for your mount then, Sir?" came the reedy voice of the clerk just behind him. Elios reddens, then straightens his shoulders to turn. "Why yes, of course." The clerk stands by his small podium, flanked by a finely-liveried stable-hand. Gaze lingering on the girl, Elios wonders how he’d missed her… "Cinda will be honoured to see your mount and tack well cared for, Sir." The clerk prompted. "Ah, yes..." the blush of embarrassment is hot under his beard, and Elios handed--nearly threw--the reins to the girl. She catches them deftly and stands at attention, waiting for any instruction. The blonde knight's brows furrow together at her silent behaviour and his eyes cast about, thinking hard. A tip? He shoved a hand into his pocket and retrieved a silver piece, and flipped it to her as well. The girl caught it without comment and maintained her stance calmly. "There is no boarding charge nor tip requirement for tournament competitors, Sir," came the reedy voice again, this time with a tone of long trained patience and a hint of patronization. "She waits for the mount's name, and any instructions as to her care." His mouth feels hot and dry, contrasting the palms sweaty with nerves. "S-Stout. She eats whatever. Oats." The knight whirls on his heel and begins to depart quickly, but only gets a few steps when another thought occurs. "Uh, Thanks." He continues his escape at a brisk walk, hunting for the nearest tavern. If not for the weight of thousands of imagined eyes on him, he would run. Elios Everlight (Count of Wailing Woods)
Roleplay from Gustav Kuriga Message sent to Everyone in Fronepu Gustav watches as a sandy-haired knight blusters into the same tavern as the others. A popular destination ever since that Keffan in the bright surcoat had started handing out free drinks. He idly wonders what happened to the cloaked figure from earlier, but if the Gods saw fit to bring them together it would come to pass. For now he finishes signing off on absolving this ‘Mielba Cordenata’ from her ill-timed oath of fealty. Such paperwork… ah but perhaps he could take time to explore the mysteries of this old city. One of the original settlements along the east coast of what became known as Beluaterra, the shining city of Fronepu has a long history. Yet despite being the royal seat of the Five Lands there are many signs of decay in the outer city. Such as the strange shrine carved into the side of a factor’s warehouse. What draws his eyes is not the shine itself, which seems more a shack against the rain, but the stylized wolf paw above it's entrance, aged but still intact. He sits down for a time, sketching the shack as he had the outer walls for around ten minutes. Finishing the main lines of the drawing, he returns the journal and carefully approaches praying all the while that the whole edifice wouldn't come down on him. Within he finds an assortment of household items and wooden carvings depicting: a crown, a wolf, a flame, a mask, and a lantern. The shack seems barren otherwise, with nothing of value or note. Yet something catches his eye in the back. It shines in a dark shadow, away from others. It seems to be a necklace of blue lapis lazuli. Gustav marvels at the workmanship, the links of the chain seem to pour between his fingers and something, something calls him to pocket the simple necklace. He will have time to study it later, but for now he should see about visiting her Majesty. Gustav Kuriga (Prophet of Vordulism)
Roleplay from Aibhlidhn Dubhaine Message sent to Fronepu City, Tournament Grounds Her Majesty, Aibhlidhn Dubhaine, Protector of the Five Lands and Crusader of the Metal Gods of Daishi, smiles behind the faceplate of her helm. Practice swords clash as she locks guard with Prince Marcus Daubney from the distant southern Theocracy of Obia'Syela. Steam rising from his visor, the callow youth moves to shoulder check the Queen, but Her Majesty pivots around to smash him across the back. The blow sends him teetering forward into the arena railing, but the man recovers quickly. “Your Majesty fights well! But then I should expect nothing less from the tireless crusader. The only pity is that you battle for the Metal Gods, not the Lady Oracle. You would make a fine Templar.” Her blade held firm between them, the Queen of the Five Lands keeps her gaze squarely on his shoulders. “Conversion by the sword is it Prince Marcus? Thanks to your tireless efforts your Lady Oracle has little need for a champion such as I.” Marcus’ sword dips as he stretches an arm. “Little need, but much desire…” The man inclines his head and the blade flashes once more in the sun. The clang of metal, and the pivot of feet pushes Aibhlidhn back to the centre of the arena. However as the routine grows more sluggish she is able to once again deflect his blade into the dirt. “A Lady’s desires can be quite mysterious, young prince. But those of a prince quite direct.” “Too true, but I note Your Majesty has not said ‘no’.” His blade still trailing behind, the man lunges forward suddenly. Apparently his lack of readiness was an attempt at a ruse. Her Majesty deflects the charge, disarming him in the process. “One hardly needs to say things that are self-evident, Prince Marcus.” The seconds observing the match raise flags, signalling the match has ended in the favour of the Queen. If the thrashing, both physical and verbal, upsets the young Prince he doesn’t show it. “Fair enough, Your Majesty. Truly you are akin to the warrior-queens of old legend. How do the myths go? Cold as ice and twice as deadly…” Aibhlidhn’s helm hides her smile, but not her salute. “Those legends are older than warrior-queens, or so my Senechal claims. But I shall take it as a compliment all the same. Good match Prince Marcus.” Aibhlidhn Dubhaine (Queen of Ar Agyr)
Roleplay from Nerta the Weaver Message sent to Fronepu City, Tournament Grounds The clash of steel rings across the rapidly filling fareground as Nerta glares up at the empty gap above Bob’s shoulder. Suddenly, the irritable vagabond drops the bucket, spilling water across the parade grounds before biting out. "I tried but; it was pretty heavy." The guards seem quite bewildered but Nerta ignores their spears to round on Bob. "I get that you two are having a grand time catching up, but I'm tired of being the Old Man’s Crystal-Cursed chauffeur." Nerta's voice climbs as she continues, talking over the unseen. "I want him gone, I want my life back and I was told you could help me. So: if you two want to talk, take him; and if it was a lie, tell me so I can get on with it.” Nerta the Weaver (Foederati)
Roleplay from Bob Baceolus Message sent to Everyone in Fronepu Bob lets the reins slap down across his saddle and carefully adjusts his glove as the woman ends her outburst. His expression is unreadable, the anguish from earlier fading to his usual intensity, but eventually the man lets out a short barking laugh. "All that knowledge and you want to throw it away? I wonder which of you is more cursed." Patting the neck of his charger he continues. “I’m not sure who told you I can help. My problem solving skills are usually quite abrupt.” His eyes sparkle. “Fatally abrupt. However I might have an idea or two. But first, if you would indulge my curiosity: Where did you find the," he smiles and savours the moment, "Old Man anyways?" Bob Baceolus (Seneschal of Ar Agyr, Duke of Agyr)
Roleplay from Elios Everlight Message sent to Fronepu City, Wolf Tavern Elios sits at the end of the bar, back against the wall, mug of ale in both hands, to watch the busy tavern. It’s packed with knights, ambassadors, nobles, and Royals, their retinues and many servants. This is twice as big as any of the feasts he’d ever had at home, and there are Royals here! He scans the room looking for any familiar faces or tabards but only spots a couple. There seems a blonde woman in orange… About to hail her, a sobering thought stops him mid call. Were they familiar because he’d seen them on his side of a battle, or the other side? Staring into his mug, cheeks puff out as he lets out a slow breath. Hoo boy... "A round on the house, courtesy of the generous Dame Mielba!" Comes a loud call from the head barkeep, to a raucous cheer. His head snaps up to see who this no doubt wealthy lady is, yet he could not spot her through the thronging crowd. Royals in taverns, and wealthy Dames buying rounds? Anyone who looked at the young bearded knight would see a man with eyes unfocused, deep in thought, as though his world had just been turned on its head. Elios Everlight (Count of Wailing Woods)
Roleplay from Nerta the Weaver Message sent to Fronepu City, Tournament Grounds Nerta fidgets with her cloak. “He was foisted on me at an awkward time by a… shadow.” Hissing sharply at her silent companion, the Crystal-Cursed chauffeur amends. “Yes, a shadow which claimed to be the Dark Mistress and who also said he was being punished. However since that day I’ve been the one stuck in the Abyss with an ancient wren tittering on for every hour of the day.” Pinching the bridge of her nose, Nerta lets out a sigh and eventually looks up at the ancient warrior. “Can you help me, please? I just want to go home.” Nerta the Weaver (Foederati)
Roleplay from Wren the Watcher Message sent to Fronepu City, Near the Tournament Grounds The shade on the stone front steps of the Long Trough Inn is cool. Peaceful. Wren heard the bustle of the tournament several blocks away, across the square, and she was glad to be far away from it. It made her nervous. Too many highborn. Too many people! She couldn't watch them all! She was staying away, relaxed after paying for a safe sleep in the Inn, and considering maybe even paying an extravagant couple of silver to a street food peddler. Smells good. Then she heard her name. "...wren tittering on for every hour of the day.” Starting, the young woman in a mottled cloak is on her feet in an instant and by the corner of the building so fast, it was as though she hadn't touched the ground at all. Wren notes that the figure on the horse is both very old and most certainly a nobleman, yet he speaks with a heavily cloaked figure on the ground. There is a large bucket on the ground, and a puddle. The cloaked one--a female?--speaks. Nerta lets out a sigh and eventually looks up at the ancient warrior, “Can you help me, please? I just want to go home.” Wren looks curiously at the cloaked one, double-blinking, and double-blinking again. That one moves differently. Familiar somehow. Curious as her namesake, Wren took little hesitant steps out from the building, vaguely in the direction of the pair. Nobody notices Wren. Listening. Watching. Wren the Watcher (Foederati)
Roleplay from Mielba Cordenata Message sent to Fronepu City, Wolf Tavern Today, she would taste her first mead, one of the drinks of choice among the brave heroes of now and yore. Unfortunately, she entered the tavern just in time to be served a round of ale, on the house. Courtesy of some other knight, perhaps that handsome man by the bar… Mielba makes sure to take her first sip when the blonde knight looks in her direction. She’d always found Fronepu‘s famous ale too bitter for her tastes. However, it was considered an insult to refuse Fronenite ale, why within the capital itself, a refusal of the ale might be considered treason. In her twenty years she’d never seen anyone refuse. Pouting at the fading foam, she considers her options, and takes another strategic sip of ale. A barmaid walking by became the perfect opportunity to shyly ask about the protocol for ordering a round of drinks. Specifically mead, if possible. Surely if it was made with honey, it would not be too bitter? Feeling safe amongst the many nobles in the tavern, she indulged in a fantasy that she could be a renowned knight or even hero- rather than a foolish young dame who sent men to perish in battle and did not even save the town. Stealing another glance at the young knight, she wonders if he, too, has regrets from the battlefield. Mielba Cordenata (Knight of Ar Agyr)
Roleplay from Bob Baceolus Message sent to Fronepu city, Tournament Grounds. Bob can’t help the dry laugh. “The Dark Mistress you say? My my Aldo, punished by the Goddess of Death herself. That little expedition of yours all those years ago still causing chaos even now? For a wise man you can certainly play the fool…” The old warrior glances up at the movement out of the corner of his eye. Another cloaked vagabond? Interesting. His gaze flickers back to the surly woman at his feet. “My knowledge of ghosts is limited to creating them but the usual trick is to find their anchor and smash it. Of course that seems to be you. However, most ghosts aren’t sent by the Gods, so perhaps if you complete whatever task they unleashed him for they’ll reel him back in. I can’t speculate what that task is, but perhaps the old Agyrian Academy that Aldo spent so long building might hold answers.” “Also, though the Followers may not be as obvious as they once were,” Turning his horse, Bob fishes in his shirt and pulls out a pendant depicting the violet flame, “they are still out there, doing what must be done to protect the land.” The man smiles then, broadly. “Welcome to the hunt, Nerta. But now I must take my leave. For my current Queen, calls.” Bob Baceolus (Chancellor of Ar Agyr, Duke of Agyr)
Roleplay from Nerta the Weaver Message sent to Fronepu City, Tournament Grounds Left in the midst of the soggy field with a vague disquiet, Nerta can only watch as Bob rides off with his words ringing in her ears. She has answers, of a sort. Though like any true horror each minor victory became two more questions to wrestle with. The sudden blare of trumpets leaves Nerta to jump, her head whipping around to try and see… Oh! The tournament must be about to begin. Heart racing she scuttles off to hide in the shadow of a low building. Shrouded in relative safety as the parade of patricians begins, she rests her brow against the timber jam and closes her eyes. For once the ghostly chill of the Old Man is quiet. For once. After a few more moments she straightens. Agyr it is then. And promptly turns around to crash into a figure shrouded in a mottled brown cloak. Nerta the Weaver (Foederati)
Roleplay from Wren the Watcher Message sent to Fronepu City, Near the Tournament Ground The old nobleman mounted a horse and rode off without another word to the cloaked one. Wren paused in her approach. Then trumpets sound, and she fled back to the shade. Curled up against the bottom of the wall in her mottled brown cloak, she may as well have been a little burlap sack of flour. The cloaked one scuttled to hide by the wall as well. They--she?--did not seem to notice the Wren. The little adventurer opened her round dark eyes to peer up at the oddly hunched stranger as she leans on the wall. Blink-blink. Such broad shoulders. The figure straightens up straight, and startles Wren, who also stands, leaning back away from the creature. It whirls and crashes into Wren, throwing her a step backward, but she flaps her arms to catch herself before crouching defensively. Up close the new face is sharp, grumpy, with glittering eyes that seem haunted. "How you know my name?" Wren chirps in her thin, high-pitched voice. Wren the Watcher (Foederati)
Roleplay from Elios Everlight Message sent to Fronepu City, Tournament Grounds Elios reclines on the bench at the edge of the tournament ground with several others. Nursing a sore arm from the joust, he beams with pride. All in all, not a bad showing for his first tournament. Admittedly after years of monopolising the family sword-fighting coach he thought he'd do better than fourth round. Still tossing his sandy brown hair back, he runs both hands through it, then scratches his sweaty beard. Maybe there’s time for one more round at the tavern. He stands and stretches, armour unbuckled and hanging carelessly half off his shoulders. A familiar face turns his way. It’s the Dame who had bought a round of mead! Cordenata? … she seems to be staring at him. Not sure what to do, he averts his gaze and heads for the stables. Elios Everlight (Count of Wailing Woods)
Roleplay from Nerta the Weaver Message sent to Fronepu City, Near the Tournament Grounds Pickpocket! Knocked to the ground by the sudden fluttering would-be-thief, Nerta clutches her meagre purse. “Know your name? What are you on about…?” Blinking a few times herself, Nerta pulls back her hood and slowly begins to sit up, even as the stranger hops around. "You… are of the Tribes.” Wide eyes roam. “Southern forest? I-I have not seen anyone for months.” A sharp move brings a hand to her chest, “I’m from the mountains… the Roof of the World.” The stranger’s eyes go wide, head cocked to one side at the mention of the icy peaks to the west of here. Laughter accompanies a fresh hand pushing back short hair, “Another. Another…” Rising from her balanced sprawl, Nerta clambers to her feet to step closer, reaching for the stranger, “But your name! I don’t know your name, I’m sorry, but have we met? I’m Nerta...” The strange woman seems skittish, shrinking away even as she mimics. “Neear-taaa? Nairrrr-ta? Nerta? Nerta” Nerta pauses at the reaction to her enthusiasm and pulls her hands back, fingers curling into her palms. “Were, were you listening to my conversation about...?” Nerta’s gaze darts to the side towards the chilly presence as she trails off. Taking a moment to adjust her cloak and regain that hunched posture, Nerta sighs, “I can explain…” The rest is cut off as yet another presence pops out of the undergrowth leaving Nerta to clutch her cloak tight. Ambush. Nerta the Weaver (Foederati)
Roleplay from Mulki Laraak Message sent to Everyone in Fronepu Peers out from behind the bush, gazing intently toward Wren and Nerta. "Frands...?" Mulki saunters out of the bushes - or at least, that's how it went in her mind. In reality, she half-stumbles only to fall face-first into the mud. As she gets up and brushes the offending goop out of her eyes, she waves at the assembled adventurers and manages a sheepish grin. "Uhh... Hai. Is it safe for us to come out now? Are the nobles gone?" Mulki Laraak (Adventurer)
Roleplay from Wren the Watcher Message sent to Fronepu City, Near the Tournament Ground Wren’s mind was racing, circling. Roof of the World. Another. Another like me! A second wordy stranger fell out of the bushes and into the wet ground nearby. Wren’s heart was already racing so this time, she did not jump. She looked sharply at the newcomer as she asks about the nobles. Blink-blink. Nod. Then Wren looked back to Nerta and spoke again in the delicate, high-pitched voice. “Nerta. Don’t know you. But familiar. You said wren. I am Wren. Southern Forest by plains. Tree Shaper.” The words were melodious, delivered in short bursts. She paused for a breath, and continued. “Only heard wren. Followers. Who old man?” The lightly-built young woman stood up from her crouch and shook out her shoulders, the dappled brown cloak rustling, and looked from Nerta to the other and back. Wren the Watcher (Foederati)
Roleplay from Mulki Laraak Message sent to Fronepu City, Near the Tournament Grounds Smiling warmly, Mulki gestures toward Nerta and Wren before dropping two wrapped packages on the ground between them. She points to one from whose corners a tuft of fur erupts, and then to Nerta. "Gift for new frand." The other, wrapped in carefully-laid moss, she lays closer to Wren with a humble bow. "For forest frand." Mulki Laraak (Adventurer)
Roleplay from Wren the Watcher Message sent to Fronepu City, Near the Tournament Grounds Wren blink-blinks at the newcomer again, and at the mossy parcel. “Thank you? Who are you?” she chirped. “From wild family too?” She looked pointedly to Nerta. "We are wild family. Far cousins. Travel together?" Wren the Watcher (Foederati)
Roleplay from Mulki Laraak Message sent to Fronepu City, Near the Tournament Grounds Mulki nods and smiles sheepishly at Wren before pointing at herself. "Mulki wild people, yes. Coming from far island. Having strange future-dream for coming here... When finding big boat, man with funny beard letting Mulki sleep in barrel. Now Mulki here and adventuring time? Mulki adventure with wild frands." Mulki picks a beetle out of her hair and flicks it skyward - pausing briefly to stifle a grin as it lands in some drunk's goblet. Mulki Laraak (Adventurer)
Roleplay from Nerta the Weaver Message sent to Fronepu City, Near the Tournament Grounds Nerta pinches her nose as eyes dart from one strange figure to the other. Why is nothing in this world ever simple? She wanted the shade gone, but yet he lingers. She had finally found one of her people after so many months, yet… she had found another as well. A strange one even by the standards of the ‘civilised’ folk. The Gods are playing games... Nerta grimaces at Mulki looking through the chilly shade that only she could see. And they are cruel games indeed... But the tournament would be even more crowded, and this was enough crowds for one day. It was time to move on, to get those answers Bob had promised. Eventually she lets out a sigh and waves the two to follow, “I will explain on the way, I need to get to Agyr.” Nerta the Weaver (Foederati)